#maybe most of it was mental

[oysters-aint-for-me]

tips on refrigerator ownership for the mentally ill

1.) letting food go bad does NOT make you a Bad Person.

2.) it is okay to throw out only one thing at a time. even especially if there are a lot of expired things in there.

3.) give yourself permission to throw out tupperware once in a while.

[twinstxrs]

idk if this is accurate but i’ve felt like in previous seasons riz & gorgug have been one of the inter-bad kids dynamics we’ve seen the least of & this season has been so great in that aspect. gorgug having helped make some of riz’s magic gear. riz helping gorgug with his studies. the shared birthday party. gorgug’s gift to riz being something he himself made to protect riz. riz’s gift to gorgug being something he illegally grabbed to protect gorgug. gorgug who utilizes rage to put his body on the line for his friends & riz who will take deep levels of mental stress for his friends. even though it was within the context of a joke, riz calling gorgug an “absolute sweetie.” like yea they might not be in a band together or both part of a presidential campaign team or owlbears teammates, but they’d go to war for each other, because they’re best friends.

[lildoodlenoodle]

Thinking about the way noir and Hobie were most likely treated because of how they look and being severely underestimated because of it.

Hobie looks and acts like a punk. He is just unserious enough to not be taken seriously. The dude is smart enough to recreate a dimension jumping watch from scraps, that people WATCH him steal and go “ugh sorry about that, he’s always like that”. And they treat him like an instigative child. Meanwhile this man is staging an interdimensional coup and is essentially a rebel freedom fighter in his own world. He is incredibly strategic and a genius while also being kind and sticking to his guns. And as a reminder, without knowing Miles or how his powers worked for even two minutes he was able to accurately help him improve his abilities! Man is observant and a quick thinker! But he’s quiet about it!

Noir dresses and sounds like an ‘oldtimer’ bc he’s from the 1930s. People probably went “ah yes grandpa” with the assumption of a mild mannered, old, and jaded private eye. Probably thought of as behind the times and not as intelligent because of lack of experience with technology. But overall first impression was of a sensible hardworking guy, and at worst melodramatic. In reality, dude is more than mildly neurotic, has severe anger issues, and prone to getting into fights. A raised socialist activist, who has very little to lose, and has canonically burned down the Statue of Liberty, shockingly he is a bit of a wildcard. And more than likely got kicked off/quit the ‘elite strike force’ for those reasons. But he’s also resourceful, smart, and quick to adapt.

Both of these characters are going to be a force to be reckoned with when they get together. Very much house on fire that burns down the entire neighborhood type relationship. I’m very excited.

[so-i-did-this-thing]

Hello, I would like to ask you a question that has been interesting to me for a long time, but I am afraid that it may somehow offend you, so I apologize. I understand if you do not want to discuss such things.

May you please tell me a little about the side effects of the transition?

So, the downsides of medical transition? Sure, I can name a few things. But a lot of "side effects" people warn you about are really just "be sure you're prepared to be more physiologically like a cis man -- you can't pick and choose what effects you get, but you can predict some of them based on genetics."

(Transphobes like to make this sound scary, like you're damaging your body. But it's like... OK, a receding hairline? Yeah, no shit that's gonna happen. Happens to most dudes. Jokes on you, a lot of people are into that. And I can take some finesteride to slow it down, so stop using visual shorthand for masculinity to scare me away from masculinity.)

That said, be sure you're prepared for changes to:

How you gain muscle & fat

Your libido

Your hair growth patterns

How you express (and possibly even feel) emotions

Your voice

Your genitals

Your risk factors for certain health conditions. Some will improve, some will get worse. Me, I have to keep an eye on my congenital heart issue.

That said, the only real "side effects" that I feel are unique to being trans and/or me are:

Vaginal dryness. There's creams for that, so, completely manageable.

You of course need to be aware of your liver health, since you're on a major medication. But it's your doc's job to check your levels and adjust accordingly. I have had no issues.

My ADHD and memory maybe got a bit worse? But they are both stable now.

If I miss a shot, I get irritable (T makes me a much calmer person)

That's really it for me.

I've had top surgery and the only side effect there was that I rejected some sutures (first time that has happened) and thus got a gnarly scar, but that can happen with any surgery.

Other folks are welcome to chime in. Again, I think it's important to distinguish between "side effect" and "this is a new-to-you thing to deal with that is common for cis men."

[gentlenotes-moved]

"you're flawless!" "you're perfect!" or!!!!!! maybe you're a little flawed. maybe you've fucked up. maybe you're a human with scars and faults. a human who's wronged and who's been wronged. maybe you've messed up. but... maybe you're a human that deserves love and happiness and good things in life. a human that deserves to heal and to be loved because you're worth something just for being alive.

[nctsworld]

JAEMIN // SMOOTHIE MV BEHIND

[fatedroses]

More than just the Demon.

[jinxed-sinner]

Look I know Lucifer isn't the best dad ever but I feel like people who say he's a bad dad are purposely ignoring the context of the show. It is very much implied that he thought Charlie wanted nothing to do with him, and Charlie thought he wanted nothing to do with her. Lucifer’s still dealing with trauma from Heaven and his fall and probably will for the rest of time plus he's dealing with what would probably qualify as clinical depression, and simultaneously dealing with trauma, clinical depression, and autistic traits (which Lucifer absolutely has; I do not say, as an autistic person, that Lucifer is a massive autistic mood for no reason) is a fucking NIGHTMARE.

I'm not saying Lucifer shouldn't take responsibility. He should. But he's already doing better than my dad frankly. Lucifer hits me in the daddy issues, I wish my dad made an effort to be more active in my life. Lucifer is fucking trying, and that's better than a lot of people can say about their dads.

[euripidestrousers]

Can't get this AU out of my head, I need to let it out:

Muggle AU where Remus moves into a new neighbourhood. He notices his neighbour is almost constantly in his garage, working on his motorbike with the garage door open for fresh air. Remus, an avid gardener, is setting up his new garden beds and finds himself often glancing over to watch his neighbour work (he's impossibly handsome and Remus is just trying to figure out if he's real or a figment of his imagination conjured from lonelieness, alright?), and suddenly he's become incredibly clumsy.

The neighbour stretches his back, the tips of his fingers reaching the high ceiling and his shirt riding up - Remus fumbles the watering can and spills it all over himself. Neighbour lifts the hem of his shirt to wipe sweat off his forehead - Remus trips and dumps a wheelbarrow of soil on the driveway. The neighbour looks up and notices him one day and sends a friendly wave and smile his way - Remus promptly drops his sad, sick aloe vera plant into a bucket of water, sealing its death.

It's quite inconvenient, really, having a smoking hot neighbour who either doesn't seem to be aware of his good looks or doesn't care.

However, it comes in handy when his car won't start one day, and Handsome Neighbour hears the pitiful stutters of the engine and pokes his head over the low fence, asking if he needs a hand.

Remus promptly smacks his head on the open car bonnet and while he's busy protesting that he really needn't trouble himself as he gingerly presses the tender spot on his head, turns to find his handsome neighbour walking up the driveway. He grins, introduces himself as Sirius, and asks if he wants some ice.

"For the car?" Remus asks, bewildered and maybe a little concussed.

Sirius bursts into laughter. "No, uh, no, I meant for your head. Let me take a look."

"Oh, it was just a smack, I'll be right. No need to-"

"Actually, this time I meant the car", Sirius chuckles, peering into the engine.

Thus begins the horrible, embarrassing fumbles with Handsome Neighbour Sirius Black.

(It's entirely possible that Sirius keeps finding minor problems with Remus' car and offers to fix them for free just to have an excuse to chat to his shy, and frankly adorable, neighbour who is living proof that you shouldn't judge a book by its cover, because while he's always wearing a wide-brimmed sun hat along with 3 layers of sunscreen more fitting a retired senior, and always seems to be dropping something, he has a wicked wit and cutting opinions on national politics, and God, Sirius could talk to him for hours. Remus' car has had a full logbook service done by the time Sirius gets invited inside for a cup of tea and they kiss in the kitchen and fuck nasty on the counter)

[lovesickeros]

☆ de fontaine

{☆} characters furina {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings angst, suicidal thoughts, hurt / no comfort {☆} word count 1.4k

This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair!

She thought, for one moment, she could put the mask down and breathe – for one moment of daydreaming, she thought she could just be Furina. She thought she would finally get to live the live she should've had in the first place, the life she threw away to play God to an audience who saw her as nothing but a circus animal, dancing to their whims. Furina just wanted to be selfish for one brief and fleeting moment..and it was gone before she could even grasp it in her hand. A comet soaring past far out of her reach.

She can barely keep her hands from violently shaking as she looks down at them – broken and bloody and more a corpse then a person – and she feels so numb she can't even feel the rain pelting against her back. None of this is fair, she wants to scream, why is it always me? But her voice is silent beneath the torrent of rain. She wonders if the ocean would take her if she sank into it's depths – just for a moment, she wonders how it would feel to finally be able to sleep at ease.

Furina is tired.

But Furina is nothing if not useful, isn't she?

So she forces her feet to move, dragging against the stone beneath her heels, and drags their bloodied body into the nearest empty building, letting the rain do the work of washing away the smeared blood following her path. The smell makes her feel sick, the feeling of it sticking to her hands and gloves makes her lightheaded, but she persists. Because Furina is useful, because Furina won't let them die out in the rain, because Furina won't stand by and just let them rot on the streets like some..pest.

Furina wants to go home. She wants to sleep and she isn't she if she wants to wake up, this time. But she keeps going anyway.

Because it's all she's ever done, and the habit sticks.

An Archon she may not be, not anymore, but the expectations of five hundred years still linger like eyes on the inside of her skull. They watch her, pry and prod at her thoughts, mocking laughter and judging eyes following her as she forces herself to dance to the song they weave with glee. Furina never stepped off that stage – she's still there, she thinks, watching the crowd stare at her in disdain as the curtain call looms above her like a guillotine. She still hears Neuvillette deliver her damnation and salvation with a trembling voice, still feels her hair stand on end when electro crackled like the crack of the whip, Clorinde's blade aimed at her like a loaded gun.

She's trapped on that stage and she never left, not really.

She hates it. She thinks she hates them, but it's not their fault. They didn't ask for this, didn't ask for everyone to turn against them, didn't ask for her to save them. Neither did she..yet here they are, she thinks.

She tries to tell herself she's in control this time, though. She can stop performing her part in this horrible, bloody play any time she wants. It makes her feel better, just for a little while, if she convinces herself she's still Furina, painfully human.

And Furina has always been good at lying.

It's the believing that's the hard part.

There isn't time for her to wallow in her own self pity, though. They're still bleeding out onto the dusty, creaky floorboards of some random, broken down house and she's just standing there as the blood stains the wood. She can fix it – she's good at fixing things. She's done nothing but fix things – try to, anyway – for five hundred years. She can fix a little wound, how hard could it be? Her hands are clenched so tight they ache as she kneels down, wincing at the creak of the floorboards beneath her heels– she hesitates just long enough to wonder if she's making a mistake before she peels away just enough of the outer layer of their clothes to see the deep, bloody gash across their chest. She tries not to think about it – it's deep, too deep, and she feels dizzy just looking at it, but she's handled worse, right?

Furina can fix it. That's what she's good at.

She doesn't feel so confident when she tries to wrack her brain for..something. Five hundred years, and a little wound stumps her? No, she had to have learned something, right? She's decidedly not trying to buy time because she's panicking, parsing through hundreds of years of memories like flipping through a book. Furina isn't made for this, not really – she's running on nothing but adrenaline and she's really not sure what she's doing, but she's trying. And just like before, it won't be enough, will it?

She'll fall short again – she'll be too late to fix it before she's alone again.

Furina was an Archon..used to be. What use would she have for that sort of knowledge? Which makes her predicament all the more harrowing and bleak. What was she supposed to do?

Furina had heard it first hand, that vitriol in Neuvillette's voice. She isn't sure she's ever heard him that..angry before. She's not sure he would listen to her if she tried, either. And that scares her more then anything. All of Fontaine was up in arms about this..imposter, yet here she was, staring down at them bleeding out in front of her, and she was trying to save them.

Why? Why is she throwing away her only chance at normalcy for a fraud? Why didn't she just turn them in?

They were dying – that should've been a good thing, shouldn't it? So why didn't it feel like it?

"Why you?" Her voice breaks as she speaks in harsh tones, grabbing the front of their shirt in trembling, bloodied hands. "Why now?" She wants to scream, to demand answers they can't give, to claw back the reprieve she was promised after five hundred years of agony..and all she can do is sob into their chest, pleading for an answer that will not come. "Why me?"

Silence is their answer, and it hangs heavy on her trembling shoulders as she cries.

Of course they don't, she thinks bitterly, no one has ever answered her pleas spoken in hushed sobs. Not her other self and certainly not them.

Furina has always been alone. Furina will always be alone.

Because Furina never left that stage, never left that moment when she looked at herself in the mirror and took up a mantle too heavy for her to bear. She always finds her way back eventually. There's no one on the other side anymore – she stands alone on a stage, waiting for an inevitable end she isn't sure will come.

"Please," She pleads through tears and choked sobs, clinging to them like they are all that keeps her from sinking. "Please don't leave me, too." The words burn on her tongue – how pathetic is she that she craves companionship from the bloodied body of the imposter? Perhaps she's truly lost her mind after all these years..perhaps she's finally gone mad. She must have.

But their presence is like the first feeling of gentle warmth upon her skin as the sun crests the horizon, like the gentle lap of tides along her heels, the sway of branches and leaves as the wind blows through them like an instrument all it's own. They are the soothing sound of rain against the window as she watches the dreary skies in fond longing, the first bloom of spring as color blooms upon the landscape like paint had been spilled across the hills and valleys.

They are like the faint spark she carefully nurtures and stokes, so fragile even the smallest wind could blow it out like a candle. She cradles it within her palms, pleads with whoever will listen – prays that someone finally listens, because if not for her, then for them.

She's failed to protect too much already, let too many people with so much trust in her fall between the cracks of her fingers like grains of sand. She won't let them go – she can't.

If nothing else, if she couldn't be saved when she begged for salvation from that five hundred year long agony, even if she never got that chance..

Furina will make sure they do.

[uncanny-tranny]

I've talked before about how the way people treat suicide can be unintentionally devastating to the suicidal person, but I don't think I really ever said how to avoid that.

Speaking about suicide in how selfish it "is" ("think about how you'll transfer your pain to your loved ones!") might seem like a way to put logical sense into the suicidal person, but, honestly? It runs the risk of massively increasing their shame and guilt about being suicidal. Suicide is not inherently a revenge fantasy or a way to "get back" at someone's loved ones, so when the suicidal person is treated like a criminal of a "crime" they haven't even committed yet, you can imagine how unhelpful that can become.

Instead, if you want to point out how cherished your person is, frame their relationships as something they can keep fostering.

"Your cat will miss you :(!!!!" becomes "you and your cat seem close, right? I'm sure it's beautiful having a close friend like that!" and maybe include ways that they and their cat are close and meaningful to each other, tailored to that relationship.

That's only one example, but when you shift the focus away from why that person should repent and feel guilty for being suicidal, you can instead focus on why they would live for that reason. See how you can frame that as a positive? Whatever is keeping that person tethered should never be used as a bludgeon, I think, because then you're taking away why they're living, the positivity of why they are here. Whatever they are here for should be remembered often and honoured.

[rose-chateau]

The absolute separation and dissonance american people have from the concept of illness is insane to me. American culture (I know it's not the only one) is so hung up on preserving youth, health, ability status, privilege, etc to the degree that they moralize uncontrollable (and sometimes harmless) biological occurrences to the point of actual delusion.

You can't have wrinkles, you can't have grey hair, you need to look 24, you need to fit in the prom dress you bought when you were 16. And the way this extends into healthism and ableism is detrimental to the collective conscious, I think. People act like you're a "bad person" if you get covid. They act like if you get sick, it's because you did something wrong. They say you should get into health and fitness not to make yourself happy or to have something to do, but to "prepare our bodies to age gracefully."

As someone who was chronically ill and disabled since childhood, I've always had a bit of a disconnect with this culture?? Like, having to LIVE with a facial difference for 15 years before "cosmetic reparation" was an option for me taught me that the way you look and how healthy you are really has nothing to do with you at all. But the main reason people aren't "unlearning" these issues is that americans refuse to accept that they coexist with disease at all.

Cancer treatment only happens in movies or to people you don't talk to anymore. Covid isn't real. Covid is over. Everyone with lung cancer got it because they smoked and they knew the risks. If you're on a chemo drug, you must have cancer. If you have cancer or a spinal condition, you MUST be dying. If you're in a wheelchair, you can walk if you really wanted to. Don't be visibly sick or disabled around me; it makes me uncomfortable. Don't talk about your health; it reminds me of my own mortality. Deny, dissociate, don't think about it.

When the reality is that new illnesses and outbreaks happen all the time. "Chemo" drug units and dialysis centers actually encompass a range of drugs and disease treatments. Some people have to get a year's supply of iron infused into their blood once a year. Does that scare you? If you've had cancer, you have cancer forever. You're in REMISSION because the root cause of the problem is still in your body. You're cancer free now, but maintenance diagnostics will be a permanent part of your life.

But we can't talk about that. Because the concept of BEING ill is so deeply dysphoric for the generally healthy, abled public. Getting sick is TRAUMATIZING to the point where if you can fully recover, you tend to not dig deep into your feelings about the situation ever again. And you're doing it to yourself, but it's also kind of being done to you by everyone. Honestly, just normalizing illness and coping with our close proximity to it would do wonders for society.

[philsmeatylegss]

Me bopping to a song whose chorus is about passive suicidal ideation and waiting for death to experience less pain for the next few weeks

[averlym]

litany of the martyrs (click for better resolution!)

[critter-of-habit]

It's 'art year in review time!' The running theme for '23 was certainly 'soft and gay'... I'm sure '24 will continue the trend 😌

2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019 2020, 2021, 2022,

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

literally the easiest way to make someone care about a character and make them feel well-rounded beyond basic traits like personality, sexuality, ethnicity, etc, is to give them an actual character arc, and it’s shocking how many people do not seem to fully realize this

you cannot just cram a bunch of tropes. tropes are not the main event, they are tools to tell the story you wish to tell. emotional impact comes from the lead up, so you can’t just jump ahead and expect the payoff to work. “I want this character to just ___ already!” but they’re not there yet. that’s where the arc comes in - how do they get there?

and! most importantly, and this is something I really want people to think about when writing - the most important relationship your character should have, always, is with the world and society around them. defining your character purely through their interactions with other characters are, I find, how a lot of female characters end up feeling flat or not engaging with the themes as much as the male characters, and also how queer and non-white characters wind up as devices for other characters’ development instead of being more fleshed out