#one of my friends has done this several times

[motorsportbarbie13]

Aftermath - Chapter 3

When Lando leaves you heartbroken after you get tired of trying to make nothing into something for far too long, Max steps in to help you pick up the pieces.

warnings: this chapter contains language and descriptions that illustrate abuse (mental and emotional). lando is abusive, full stop but like many survivors of abuse, it takes reader a bit to claw herself out of this. as a survivor of abuse myself, I am doing my best to give this story line the most respect and care that i can. please don't engage with my work if you find any of the topics triggering.i'd also like to point out that this is a character i am writing, i in no way am insinuating or implying the real lando is like this in any way. pairing: max verstappen x leclercsister!reader word count: 4.9k

(Extra special shout out to @nitaekook for beta reading and holding my hand through this fic 😂❤️)

Aftermath - MV33 - Chapter 1 Aftermath - Chapter 2 Master List

“Where do you want these plates to go, my dear?” Jade asks from across the kitchen. 

You glance up at her from your spot on the brand new couch that was just delivered to the new apartment that morning. You’re sitting cross legged unpacking a box of the few things that you had brought over from the old apartment. In the kitchen, your best friend Jade (who is also Arthur’s girlfriend of about a year thanks to your meddling) stands holding up one of the new plates that you bought with her yesterday. 

“Wherever there’s room.” You say with a shrug, not really caring where the plates go because everything feels weird.

The apartment is pristine with its gorgeous hardwood flooring that Charles had refinished before you moved in, floor to ceiling windows that face out towards the water, and that new house smell that is totally unfamiliar and a little unnerving. You should be happy, shouldn’t you? Finally being free of the stifling apartment that you had shared with Lando should fill you with so much optimism and a sense of relief, shouldn’t it? But that’s not the case. Not even close. You’re scared and nervous and just the thought of deciding where those plates should go seems like the heaviest question you've ever been asked.

 Simply picking out the plates yesterday with Jade had been an ordeal and you had needed to take several moments to yourself while shopping. You liked your old plates that you had bought with Lando the week you moved in with him but at the same time, the thought of taking those to your new apartment was more painful than leaving them behind.

Jade must notice your anxiety because as soon as she finishes putting the plates and bowls in whatever cabinet that suits her fancy, she comes over to sit next to you on the couch. When she wraps her arm around your shoulders you melt into her in a desperate attempt to stop a fresh flood of tears from falling. It seems as if all you’ve done since leaving the old apartment was cry and if you’re not crying, you’re barely fighting off an incoming panic attack and jumping with every ding of your phone. 

“What’s going on, my love?” Her voice is gentle, like she’s talking to an injured animal that she doesn’t want to spook. It makes you feel pathetic, helpless, and angry for how much Lando has damaged you when he should have been loving you. 

You’ve known Jade for years now and she’s always been one of your closest friends. It was Jade that had been the first of your friend group to pull you aside almost a year ago to ask you if you were truly happy with Lando. She had seen the light dim in your eyes as your relationship with him progressed and watching you lose your spark had scared her. When you had told her the morning after your art show last month that you had finally decided to leave Lando, it had been so hard for her to tamp down her excitement that you had finally worked up the courage to leave him. 

“I should be happy, right?” You ask, voice cracking a bit with the heavy weight of what closing the door on the apartment for the very last time had done to you that morning. “I mean, I know I’ve been miserable for…” You scoff, “a really long time so shouldn’t I feel something other than heartbreakingly sad?” 

Jade tips her head so it rests on your shoulder, a humming sound playing at the back of her throat. “You’ve been with him for a long time, of course you’re going to be heartbroken. Youu’re doing the right thing though, I promise you. He couldn’t even stop playing that stupid video game long enough to support you last month!” 

You nod, memory flickering back to the fight in the hallway in front of Max. You hadn’t heard much from him in the weeks since that night aside from a few texts here and there and you had expected that. He probably was mortified at how you had behaved, embarrassed for you that you had allowed yourself to be treated that way in front him.

You wouldn’t have blamed him if he thought you were a weak little girl who deserved the treatment Lando doled out to you. It was the only way you could rationalize his silence. Seeing how far you’d fallen, how much you’d changed, had obviously had an effect on Max and he had decided he’d seen enough. It didn’t surprise you and you didn’t blame him. Jade was one of your only remaining friends and losing yet another person you trusted and valued in your life was just another thing Lando had taken from you. 

“I’m just so glad you finally are taking your power back, love. I know it feels all wrong right now but when you go from the chaos that you’ve been living in for so long, I’m sure the calm of this apartment feels wrong. You’ll get used to it. It might take some time but you’ll get used to it.” 

Your head swivels around to look your best friend and you search her face for any sign of her lying to you. You desperately want to believe she’s right, that you’re making the right choice. You know you are, deep down in your soul, but you’ve been with Lando for so long and have spent so many nights listening to him rant and rave about how he’s the only one who could ever deal with your dramatics that you wonder if Jade is wrong and Lando is the one who’s been right all along. You don’t voice the doubts though, knowing that those kinds of things are something that you should probably keep to yourself. So instead of voicing all of the fears that are bouncing around in your chest, making it feel heavy and tight with the pressure of doing something that absolutely terrifies you, you just nod and lean further into Jade’s shoulder.

 “I know.” You whisper, staring out over the open living room that is littered with small boxes and suitcases. 

With the help of your brothers and Jade, you had started moving your things out slowly while Lando had been otherwise distracted. Just a small box of clothes and trinkets here and there, over the last month while Charles had the apartment renovated and cleaned. When it was finally ready last week, you had begun looking for furniture and making final plans. 

The timing had worked out perfectly, with the apartment finally being finished perfectly aligning with a weeklong trip Lando had planned to go to Woking to spend time in the sim at the MTC. He rarely bothered you during these working trips, hell he barely bothered you during any of this trips, but his work trips were different, so you knew you’d have a solid week to get everything that mattered to you out of the apartment before he would be any wiser. 

“He’s going to be so mad when he comes home and my things are gone.” You murmur, staring down at your phone which hadn’t received so much as a text message from him in almost 48 hours. 

You hadn’t bothered telling Lando you were leaving, that you were done with him. You shied away form confrontation on even the best of days so telling the man that you’d spent the last three years building a life together that you were leaving him was terrifying. When you had started moving small boxes out while Lando was still in town, you had half expected him to notice but that had never been a problem. He hadn’t even noticed you leaving on several occasions with boxes of your books or suitcases of clothes. 

A larger part of you had another reason for not telling him, though. You knew that if you told him before you were fully moved out he’d try to get you to stay. He’d try to convince you that things would get better, that this time would be different. All the things that he’s said before when you spent the night crying over his neglect. And you knew you’d fall for it. You knew you’d go running back to him if you didn’t get out before he found out. Lando was persistent and an expert manipulator, you knew that and you still fell for it over and over again so this time you were trying to give yourself the chance to put yourself first and not fall back into his trap. 

“He’s going to learn his lesson when he comes home and finds that you’re finally moving on.” Jade says, tone firm but still gentle. She knows what it’s like to be in a relationship like you have with Lando and when you had called her that morning last month to tell her you were finally leaving him, she had decided she was going to make sure she’d do everything in her power to keep you from going back to him. Getting you unpacked and settled in your new apartment was a huge step forward, one Jade hadn’t been sure you would end up following through with. 

You nod, hoping she’s right but you have a feeling deep in your gut that when Lando gets back into town tomorrow morning he’s not going to see it that way. He’s going to be angry and he’s going to try to get you to come back home to him. 

Looking around your new apartment though, you feel something settle in your bones that you haven’t felt in a very long time. It’s a feeling of attachment to this place. Like if you’re careful and thoughtful, this little apartment tucked away in one of the most exclusive buildings in Monaco could be the best opportunity you have for getting your life back on track. You could heal here, you can feel that in the way the sunlight spills through the windows in the living room, in the way your anxiety allows you to breathe when you stand in the kitchen surrounded by things that you bought yourself, and in in the way you feel when you settle yourself on your brand new bed that will have never shared an intimate moment between you and Lando. Those memories have all been left behind and this new apartment seems like the perfect place for a new beginning. 

As Jade comforts you on your couch, your brother is across town arriving at the Monaco Sports Club where he has a game of padel scheduled with Max that afternoon. He had offered to cancel on him this morning when you spoke to him on the phone, saying that your first full day in the apartment was more important than any padel game, but you had insisted that he keep his game. You had wanted a bit of space to breathe from your brothers, who you knew meant very well and you were very grateful for but sometimes, the three men got to be a little suffocating. So, against his better judgement, Charles had skipped coming over that afternoon in favor of hanging out with Max. 

Max hasn’t stopped thinking about that night last month when he witnessed Lando being needlessly cruel to you. He had every intention of calling Charles that night, had every intention of telling him how the British driver was actually treating you but something had stopped him. He had needed a little more time to process everything that he saw. Max knew that Lando could be an asshole but he never could have guessed that he would have treated you the way he did that night he brought you back to the apartment. It had shaken him and it had taken him a bit to figure out exactly how to approach it with Charles because he knew if Charles really knew how Lando had been treating you, Lando might not make it to the next race alive. Because while everyone knew the relationship was toxic and Lando wasn’t a good boyfriend, no one really realized just how bad it had gotten until Max saw behind the curtain that night of the art show. 

When Max had invited Charles to play padel today, he had finally decided to tell him what had gone down that night. It had taken so long because Max kept waffling between ‘this is none of my business’ and ‘she’s everything’ but when he spotted Charles walking through the padel courts towards him, Max was surprised at how happy Charles looked. 

“You look happy.” Max observes before giving his friend a hug. 

“Oh, it is a very good day, mon ami.” Charles is practically glowing as he smiles over at his long time friend. 

Max lifts a brow, it’s been a while since he’s seen Charles look this optimistic and he wonders if it has something to do with you. 

As if Charles reads his mind, he continues, “We finally got the apartment finished and as of this morning, she’s fully left that piece of garbage.” A smug smile plays at the corner of the Ferrari driver’s mouth. 

The relief that washes over Max is surprising. He hadn’t realized how truly worried he was for your well being until that moment. The guilt that sets in though has his chest aching. How could he have gone so long without saying something to someone about what he had seen that night? Max carefully weighs his decision that he had been so set on just moments before. If you’ve already left Lando and are settling into your apartment, does Charles really need to know what happened that night? It would only cause more drama and Max knew that more drama and anxiety was the last thing you needed. 

In a split second decision that he knows could come back to haunt him, Max decides to keep quiet for now. 

“That is the best thing I’ve heard all day.” With a genuine grin, Max bounces the padel ball against the floor. 

Charles beams back at him and Max can almost see the stress that his friend has been carrying around recently melting away from his features. He had known that your brother was worried about you, had known your entire circle, or what was left of it, was worried but now that this was really happening, Max could practically feel the relief rolling off of Charles in waves. 

“You’re telling me.” Charles mutters before walking to the other side of the court to get the game started. 

Max hadn’t meant to end up in your old neighborhood, truly he hadn’t. He had been on a run the morning after playing padel for a few hours with Charles when he passed the bakery that was a few blocks from your old apartment. He hadn’t meant to come this far but the pressures of the season were starting to get to him as they usually did around this time of year and he had needed extra time to clear his head. The fact that he couldn’t seem to get you off his mind either plagued him the entire run too. The way you had felt pressed against his side as he walked you home that night last month, the way your cheeks flamed with humiliation as Lando had laid into you in front of him when he walked you to your door, everything about you seemed to be invading his thoughts and it worried him. 

It worried him because he couldn’t let you get under his skin like this. He knew it was a dangerous game he was playing, knowing what you’ve been through and allowing himself to wander down that road. He was just happy you were safe now and hopefully you would start to get that spark back that he knew you still had in you. Everything else would have to wait. 

So when he passed the bakery you had pointed out as your favorite the night he had walked you home, he couldn’t help but follow his feet inside. The smells of freshly baked bread and sweet pastries washed over his senses as the bell above the wooden door jingled, announcing his arrival. He knew exactly what he was looking for before the woman behind the counter even asked and before he was able to second guess his decision, Max was walking out of the bakery moments later with half a dozen of what he knew were your favorite almond croissants. 

A housewarming gift, he told himself. Because what other way should Max welcome his newest neighbor to the building where he had lived for the last two years? He knew these were your favorites and if he had to guess, wandering back into your old neighborhood just for some carbs was probably at the bottom of your ‘to do’ list right now, even if they were heavenly pieces of baked bread and sweet almond filling. 

While Max made his way back across town, laden down with a large pink bakery box, you were just getting out of bed and starting your day. Anxiety, a feeling that seemed to be your constant companion lately, sits heavy on your shoulders as you move around the new apartment. The quiet hush that blankets the small space is different than the stifling silence you're used to in your apartment with Lando. It was unnerving to say the least but if you allowed yourself to pause for even just a moment, you could almost feel your soul breathing a sigh of relief. 

That wash of contentment is short lived though when a knock at your front door sends your heart rate spiking through the roof. You know that Lando was going to be home today but didn't know what time. It didn’t even cross your mind that there was no way it was him outside your door because he simply didn’t know where you had moved to but just the thought of someone who you weren’t expecting waiting for you and the possibility that it could be your now ex-boyfriend had you spiraling.��

Reaching for your phone, you pull up the security system app that Charles had insisted you get installed, despite the fact that this was a very well secured building with its own doorman downstairs 24/7. The person standing outside your door has confusion knitting your brow together. 

Pancake ingredients forgotten, you pad towards the door shuffling through various emotions: relief that it isn’t Lando waiting for you on the other side, apprehension about seeing the person that was patiently waiting in the hallway for you, and a bit of relief that you hadn’t lost this person like you thought you might have. 

“Max, what a pleasant surprise.” You murmur when you swing the door open. 

In front of you, the Dutch driver is dressed for a workout in athletic shorts and a t-shirt, his blond hair covered in a backwards baseball cap. You’re surprised at the shimmer of pleasure that works its way up your spine when he smiles at you but quickly squash the feeling, remembering the pity on his face as Lando had yelled at you that night he walked you home. 

“I was on a run this morning and remembered you saying this bakery was your favorite. I thought I’d bring you some almond croissants as a sort of ‘welcome to the building’ present.” 

Warmth spreads through your belly at the gesture and you hold the door open to welcome Max into the apartment. “Welcome to the building?” You ask, confused. 

Max grins back at you, rubbing at the back of his neck as he follows you to the kitchen. “I live up in the penthouse. I moved in about two years ago.”

Surprise flickers across your face. When you started dating Lando, your friendship with Max had grown distant so it shouldn’t shock you that you didn’t even know where your friend lived. “Oh, I didn’t realize.” You whisper, guilt settling like a stone in your stomach. 

Max watches you bustle around the kitchen, decidedly avoiding eye contact with him. For a few moments he just observes you, trying to decide if he should leave or push. Charles had mentioned yesterday that you were nervous about living alone and Max wanted to make sure that you were okay. He knew he should probably leave you alone to continue to settle it, with it being only your second day in the apartment alone, but there was something keeping him rooted to the spot where he stood in the middle of the kitchen.

 “Are the almond ones still your favorite?” He asks, shattering the silence that had settled over the room. He knows you’re easily spooked now and Max desperately wants you to be comfortable about him. Maybe if he distracts you from whatever storm is brewing in your head, you’ll open up a bit. 

His patience is rewarded with the first unguarded smile he’s seen from you in a long time. “I can’t believe you remembered.” You laugh, reaching for one of the croissants in the open box. 

“You used to put these things away like nobody’s business when we were younger.” 

The blush that creeps across your cheeks has Max gripping the edge of the counter. The two of you fall into a comfortable conversation of safe topics, mostly about your new apartment and how Max’s cats are doing. You like this, the way you feel around him but you can almost feel your body bracing for the other shoe to fall. You keep waiting to have something stupid slip out of your mouth, causing Max to berate or make fun of you. 

Much to your surprise it never happens though and you spend the next hour talking through memories of when Charles and Max were fighting it out on the karting tracks when you were younger. Max remembered you well from those days, how you would beg to tag along with him and Charles and the older boys. 

The sun sits high in the sky when your phone start buzzing loudly on the counter. At first you ignore it, too lost in the conversation you and Max are having, the way he is so attentive to everything you have to say and how he asks you questions like he’s genuinely interested in what you have to say. You don’t want the attention he’s giving you to end but when your phone starts buzzing for the fifth time in a row, you get up off the couch to retrieve it. It was probably just Charles checking on you, you hand’t heard from him all day after all. 

Your heart sinks and your stomach churns when you see the caller ID though. “Fuck.” The whisper that tumbles off of your lips is broken and harsh, causing Max’s head to snap towards where you’re leaning over the counter, forearms braced on either side of your phone. 

“Everything okay?” Max gets up off the couch to join you in the kitchen, concerned over the way you’ve suddenly gone white as a sheet as you stare down at your phone like it’s about to reach up and strangle you right there in the middle of the room. 

In the couple of hours that you had spent catching up with Max, you had completely forgot that Lando was due to get home soon. “I guess Lando has discovered I’m gone.” The way your voice shakes has Max’s heart squeezing. 

“He doesn’t know you moved out?” 

“Well he does now.” You quip, nervous chuckle falling from your lips. The text messages came in first, it looked like. Nearly a dozen of them and as you scroll through the messages, your face heats. Of course this is going to happen with Max here. Why is he always a witness to your humiliation?

Where are you? Why is the closet half empty, where are all your clothes? Baby, why is your treadmill gone? And your Peloton?  Where the FUCK are you??? ANSWER ME NOW WHERE ARE YOU??? DID YOU LEAVE ME THERE IS NO FUCKING WAY YOU’RE DOING THIS TO ME RIGHT NOW ANSWER YOUR FUCKING PHONE NOW COWARD

Shortly after the messages stop, the calls start. You stare down at the phone as Max watches as call after call comes through. 

“You don’t have to answer him.” Max murmurs, coming to stand right next to you. You have to resist the urge to lean into his warmth, to collapse against the quiet strength that rolls off of him in waves.

“It’s only going to get worse if I don’t.” 

“Does he know where you are?” 

You shake your head, tears threatening to spill over. Why was this all happening right now? You knew you were safe, that he had no idea where you had moved to but just the thought of being in the same city as him when he was this angry is enough to have the panic threatening to strangle the breath straight out of your lungs. 

“Then you’re safe. He wouldn’t ever do anything to put his career in danger, Dovie.” 

You have to laugh at the statement because it’s so true. Lando would never do anything to put his career on the line. He’d do whatever it took to keep you in line under his thumb, no matter how mean he had to be to control you but when it came to his career? His first love? He’d never do anything to put his seat in question and you knew that. You had always come second to racing and what Max said was the total truth. 

Max watches you shrink into yourself as the calls continue to come in, one after another, and he knows he has to do something. He glances at the time and instantly gets an idea. “I was supposed to go to dinner with Danny in an hour. What if you leave the phone here for the night and come to dinner with me?” He pauses, seeing the panic flicker across your face. “With us. Come to dinner with us.” He corrects quickly. “I’ll call Charles and see if he’s free too? It’s been a while since we’ve all had dinner together.” 

Your eyes drop down to the phone, now quiet for the moment, and weigh your options. You know you’re not ready to talk to Lando but the fact that you’re ignoring him makes you feel like a coward. You’re going to have to speak to him sometime but maybe it was okay if you put if off for a few more days. Dinner out with Max, Daniel, and your brother sounds so appealing but you still hesitate. 

“Come on, Dovie. You can’t spend the whole night starting at the phone. He’s going to keep calling and it’s not good for you to be alone right now.” 

The pain that slices through your heart at the gentle coaxing Max’s tone takes on is almost unbearable. Why is he always the one to see you laid so bare, so vulnerable? 

“How did I let this happen, Max?” Your voice breaks, soft and uncertain as you turn into Max’s waiting frame. Without hesitation, Max’s arms circle around you and he pulls you deeper into his chest. Something settles in him then, almost like he’s relieved you’ve allowed him in. The way you shake while he holds you has his chest aching and he’d really like to give the McLaren driver a piece of his fucking mind right about then, but he knows that’s going to have to wait for now. You’re much more important. 

“You were in love, schatje and that’s okay. You trusted him and he broke that trust. It’s not a reflection of you, sweet girl, its a reflection of him. You have nothing to be embarrassed about.” 

You sob quietly into his chest, soaking his t-shirt through with your tears as the dam finally breaks. Humiliation threatens to drag you under but you allow Max’s words to resonate through you. They soften the sharp edges of your heartache and regret, knowing that someone like Max, who you respect and have known for nearly your entire life, doesn’t think this entire thing is your fault. You sink into his warmth, clutching at the fabric of his shirt, allowing his steady breath to ground you. 

Max just stands there, a quiet pillar of strength that he can feel you desperately need right now. Hr murmurs quiet reassurances to you as you cry against him, slowly rocking you back and forth. “Come on,” Max coos, lips brushing against the top of your head. “Go take a shower and then lets go to dinner. I’ll call Charles and see if he’s free. You haven’t seen Danny in ages, right? It’ll be good to get out.” 

Dragging in a deep breath, you hold the air in your lungs until they pinch. “Okay.” 

With one last look at your phone, you turn away and walk down the hallway, leaving Max starting at your phone which has finally gone quiet. For several moments, Max just stands at the counter in the kitchen, unable to move. Relief floods his veins when he hears the shower start though and he knows that you’re finally making a small step towards getting out from under Lando’s control.

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[shorthaltsjester]

obsessed with the fact that bell's hells won that fight explicitly because of their reliance on the gods. imogen and laudna both vocally saying 'thank you matron' at the beginnings of that combat as they use new skills or spells they've refreshed, orym wielding his sword, braius wielding his divine power, the entire party instilled with a hero's feast prepared by a cleric of the wildmother, imogen using power granted by the arch heart to bring down predathos -- an entity that has been described as welcoming her home, offering a womb she has longed to return to, her as its kin -- in imagery evoking the moment where the gods too decided to turn their backs on their home when faced with the monstrosity they were tied to, that they'd help bring about (something something, the arch heart gave mortals magic and imogen gave predathos its vessel). and the fact that bell's hells has slowly grown more reliant on the idea that predathos does not hunger for mortals -- something they in fact scoffed at when it came from liliana and ludinus' mouths -- predathos took several of them in his maw and tried to consume them.

viewing the story as one of a group of people predominantly blinded to the reality of their situations by the fog of their traumatized feelings -- as i've chosen to do for the sake of my sanity listening to them go on and on about gods that never gave them a lick in the same breath that they complain that the gods have too much power -- it is so extremely poetic that orym cut down ludinus with a sword blessed by the wild mother only for bell's hells to retread the path ludinus set up for himself. it is extremely ironic for a group of people who have implicitly raised complaints about the inherent manipulation that comes with the god's existence to come up with a plan that is explicit manipulation, demanding the gods become mortal or die [which to be clear, extremely interesting plan with interesting consequences that would be compelling to see! absolutely dogshit reasoning skills and moral assessment. but it is continually ASTOUNDING to me that a campaign that gets treated by some as the height of critical role's sociopolitical philosophical exploration features so many PCs who struggle (and not in the fruitful, developmental way but in the head-in-hands, can this student talk to the prof during office hours so I don't have to feel the second hand embarrassment of them making it obvious they haven't ever attended a previous lecture or done the class readings way) with ideas found in any first year philosophy course].

and to be clear this is not me devaluing the role of bell's hells in actually fighting the fight -- but all they've done is the same thing the gods were already doing, keeping predathos sealed, except now its in a volatile-at-best mortal who is on borrowed time re: being lost once again to its power. the only suggestion the hells have that this might be a justified and right course of action is the support of two gods -- one who has proven themself to be okay with the idea of death until it actually arrives before and the other one who is the only being on record who actually chose to be a deity -- out of a much larger pantheon, and their personal inclinations to agree with the ideology of a man who they have claimed to ardently disagree with but it turns out that was just because of his methods, I guess. scattershotting catalysts for change and hoping that change results in a Better World just. on its own (almost like. idk. fate) that you haven't even suggested practical (I'd even take theoretical ones atp) methods to achieve beyond Get Rid of a bunch of beings who are involved in actually extreme amounts of metaphysical and magical infrastructure isn't actually a course of action, its a course of chaos, and that is in fact worse than things staying the way they are if 'the way things are' that you keep referring to has only been shown to, currently, be that you and your friends feel sad and a little miffed that the gods you haven't offered anything to are only willing to do things for you when you serve them. unlike you, a group notorious for the way you do things for people you don't know without asking anything in return (this is sarcasm, if that wasn't clear).

anyway, I will continue to be frustrated by the lack of grounding for either (a) bell's hells having actually incisive and contextualized criticisms of the gods (either their own or from the actual mouths of the 'little guys' they are allegedly fighting for) or (b) more engagement with the fact that bell's hells as a party are not interested in making the morally right choice, they are at Best looking for a morally neutral choice. that said, if I ignore the actual story c3 has portrayed, the last few episodes have been a great wrap-up to a story about how singleminded trauma can make you and how that can lead you to place where there's no longer any Good choices to make, only potentially satisfying ones, where the question of who to satisfy takes the reigns over what is best.

[schizosupport]

While I understand where you might be coming from, I think you fundamentally misunderstand OP's point, while lacking awareness of what it can be like to be a patient in the psychiatric system.

You acknowledge yourself that if you have a bad doctor, you need to change to a better one. But you also say to always trust your doctor, or you won't get better. These two statements can't coexist, because if you trust your doctor no matter what, you won't be able to protect yourself from bad doctors "and change to a new one" or whatever else protecting yourself might entail.

Now, OP isn't actually saying not to trust a doctor that you have found to be good and helpful and trustworthy. What OP is saying, is that placing blind trust in a bad psychiatrist can lead to real life harm for psychiatric patients.

Psychiatrists have systemic power over their patients, and they can both force you into treatments, and deny you treatments, based on the information you share with them. I'll give a couple examples.

1) A friend of mine who had been struggling severely and unable to work for the past year due to stress and increasing panic attacks/flashbacks finally went to see a psychiatrist at a hospital. The first person she talked to was really nice. She asked about drugs and my friend admitted that she occasionally smokes weed to calm down from the very symptoms that she's seeking help for. The psych was understanding. A couple interviews later she gets a new doctor who has a different opinion. And skip to two years later where the system is still denying her care bc "she has a drug addiction" while the drug addiction clinic is denying her care bc "that doesn't count as a drug addiction" and "she would stop smoking weed if someone cared for her glaring mental problems". She is not alone, this is a very common scenario across the world. If you admit to ever touching drugs you may very well be denied care indefinitely. The community recommendation in my country is to never admit to any substance use, even to people in the system who seem understanding, because others in the system may be less so, and you may never get the care you need. As you can imagine, this gets very complicated for people where the drug use is also a large issue on its own.

2) Another friend of mine went to get assessed for adhd. They said they couldn't finish the assessment bc she was too disorganized, and she was sent to be assessed for a schizo spec disorder instead. She was desparate to get any diagnosis at all bc she really really needed help. Here she was given a schizotypal diagnosis. After this she was being treated for this with antipsychotics. They didn't do anything good for her, in fact they made her worse. She tried to ask to be reassessed for ADHD but was denied bc it was seen as a delusion. Her gender identity (which she had been out and in treatment for, for years) was seen as a delusion, and the psychiatric system blocked her from getting the necessary paperwork to get surgery. Eventually she went private sector and found a good psychiatrist who diagnosed her with ADHD. With adhd meds things started improving, she also got her letter from the private psych and got her surgery. (And she's doing so much better!!) But if she hadn't had the means to go private, then her psychiatrists would've been able to block her from the right treatment and life saving surgery indefinitely. This is an example of what can happen from being honest about even quasi-psychotic symptoms, and the ways psychiatrists often have power to block and gatekeep certain treatments from you based on how THEY perceive you and your reality.

3) A third friend of mine is schizophrenic and on a treatment order. She hasn't done anything criminal, but where she lives you can be put on a treatment order simply if a panel of psychiatrists decide that if you don't get forced treatment, you might deterioate. So for a long time she had injections of a medication that was not helping, but that was causing severe side effects, forced on her. This is one of many examples of psychiatrists wielding systemic power over their patients.

Many psychiatric patients fear being honest with their care providers, because it can lead to forced hospitalization, forced medication, or it can lead to denial of care and treatment. This is not an ungrounded fear. These are things that happen to people. Sure, some may fear this beyond what's realistic in their situation, so anxiety can mix with this, but it is a real thing to be aware of.

And as I've attempted to illustrate with these examples, it's not as simple as "if you get a bad doctor, get a new one". This is often not an option, there's often a paper trail that follows you from doctor to doctor, and even the first doctor you meet have power over you, and can potentially make your situation worse if they are bad at their job.

I know several people who have been severely overmedicated and wrongfully medicated. One person I knew was taking 10 different medications at once, including heavy duty antipsychotics despite not having experienced or being diagnosed with psychosis, and benzodiazepines on a completely irresponsible regiment that got her severely physically addicted. She didn't start to get better, before she slowly weaned off all these substances against her doctor's recommendation.

In an ideal world we could always trust our doctors, and be honest from the get-go, with the assumption that they know what they're doing and won't force or deny care.

But in the reality we live in, doctors have systemic power over patients, and not all doctors are good. So therefore it is in fact important to advocate for yourself, seek out information independent from your own doctor, talk to others in the community about their experiences, and yes. To be tactical about what you do and do not share with your psychiatrist. And when it does fuck up, you may very well need a lawyer. For example if you want to sue for wrongful treatment, overuse of coercion, or to get you off a treatment order that's destroying your life.

I really recommend doing some research into the kind of abuse and neglect that unfortunately takes place in the psychiatric system, before speaking so confidently on the matter.

Psychiatry differs fundamentally from oncology in its views on patients' rights to autonomy, and in the level of power granted to your doctor to control your life. But that said, most of us are not experts on oncology either. Which means that in reality it can be pretty hard to know whether your oncologist is good, and whether you need a new one. And somatic medicine is not free of bias, abuse and neglect either.

So TLDR, OP isn't saying never to seek help or not to trust your doctor with anything, she's saying to be aware of the potential pitfalls and to be tactical in your approach and to advocate for yourself, and not to trust psychiatric authority blindly.

That's not ableism, that's realism.

I want and need more discussions of how, when you're labeled mentally ill, a psychiatrist is in fact an authoritative figure with systemic power over your life and autonomy who might in some cases turn out to be bigoted or abusive. Most of us know that statements like "you should always tell the cops everything! They just want to help you" are harmful, and yet I constantly see posts telling people to trust their psychs with everything if they want to get better without any mentions of what can happen and how to protect yourself if it turns out your psych isn't a good guy

[sukunastoy]

Only Love Can Hurt Like This, Prologue (CEO! Sukuna x Fem! Reader, MDNI)

⭐This is a redo of my story, Shameful Attraction. I've rewritten it as I originally wanted so long ago. I was trying to write it to appease people and once I let go of that and just started to enjoy the story for itself, the flow became a lot better. For those who read it before, there are major changes you'll notice upon the next upload. For those who haven't read it at all before, I hope you enjoy. <3⭐

⬇️PLEASE READ BEFORE STARTING THE STORY! ⬇️

Modern age AU, no curses. Sukuna still has his tattoos, but his face ones are carefully hidden. This story is set in Japan, and I've done my best to impliment real life into it. For example, tattoos in Japan are still taboo, and people associate them with the yakuza, so its not normal to see everyday people have them. Though I know I won't have all the details of modern day life in Japan correct, I hope you still enjoy.

Pairings: CEO Sukuna x Fem Reader Content/Trigger Warnings: This story has a lot of abuse in it. Reader is in an abusive relationship with her fiance, Toji. There are several moments in the story that highlight this including, but not limited to, acts of violence and aggression towards reader, including name calling, shoving, punching, sexual assault, being manipulated, unwanted bondage and containment, food denial, being drugged etc. Reader is thin, not allowed to eat a lot per Toji's rules in regards to her weight. If she feels like she is gaining weight, she will make herself throw up after meals. Reader also struggles through depression though often hides it through masking, however there are ocassional thoughts of suicide when some scenarios are too extreme to cope with. She's scared to leave, assumes she could never get away, so just deals with it all as she doesn't know what else to do. Wordcount: 2k+

Prologue

Present Day ~ Friday, 10:23 PM

It was happening again. There was nothing you could do to stop it. No amount of shame or fear could keep you from hiding in the bathroom at 10:23 PM, your thumb hovering over the open message icon on your phone. You knew who it was, the person you desperately craved.

The sender's name was your best friend and coworker, Yuna.

You always talked to Yuna; sometimes you even stayed with her after work was over in the affluent area of Tokyo, Roppongi Hills. There were even the rare times you'd stay overnight after work because you felt like you couldn't see each other long enough. At least, it's who your fiancé thought you were talking to and seeing. If he ever found out otherwise, well, you weren't sure you even wanted to think about what might happen.

Toji would get annoyed at you for wanting to talk so much with one of your friends, and he always demanded to know what you two did or talked about all the time, which you offered very detailed lies in response to his questions. It's not like you came to these decisions lightly. You stuck it out faithfully for almost seven years before giving up and needing someone else to make you feel like a beautiful and worthy woman again. To know someone else could appreciate you and offer excitement in your life. To not hit or yell at for everything was a huge plus also. Even if it was only temporary. Even if they didn't care about you in the same way you cared for them, you still needed whatever you could get.

Listening carefully in the silence of the night, you could still hear Toji snoring from your tiny, shared bed down the hall, and finally, your shaking thumb pressed onto the screen, closing your eyes as you felt the little bzzt of the message opening.

Swallowing tightly before accepting the message visually, you peeked an eye open and felt your face flush with a tingling heat that traveled down into your core, making your thighs squeeze together tightly as you sat on the edge of the tub, breath hitching at the photo and caption that now had you uncontrollably mesmerized.

Clicking the lock button on the side of your phone you dropped it down onto the soft rug below, your shaking hands now covering your face before going through your hair and you let out a long quiet breath.

Your heart pounded with the image in your mind, and what usually happened after you got one of these messages, there was no stopping it, and you hoped it never would.

Finally calming your nerves at the moment, you picked your phone back up, only to have that heated chill drop to your stomach again as there was another message to open now. Biting your lip, you opened it and at this point, you could nearly hear your own elevated heartbeat.

-"Aren't you going to answer me, doll? I know you're still awake."-

You covered your mouth with your free hand to try and quiet the excited breaths escaping your mouth, scrolling up slowly to review the previous message.

-"I know it's late, and to be honest, I really don't care. I want you here, need you beneath me in my bed where you know you belong. Letting a real man fuck you. You know he can't make you feel like I can." Photo attached: It was of that enormous bulge desperately trying to push through dark sweatpants that were loosely tied at the hip, shirt lifted and held up by sharp canines to show off that ridiculously built body, and sinful black tattoos that hugged the skin.-

Damn him. A quiet whine churned in your throat as your thighs clenched together more tightly in that shameful desire. He was right though. Toji could never fuck you as good as Sukuna. It was so embarrassing. Embarrassing how easy it was for Sukuna to turn you completely limp in his arms, and how quickly you'd lose yourself beneath him. Embarrassing because of how loud and lewd your moans were. Embarrassing because of how much you wanted this arrogant playboy.

Knowing another message would come through if you didn't reply, you quickly responded with the only thing you could think of at the moment, being so flustered and already getting dumb over dick through a teasing photo. -"I still have that report I have to finish this weekend, I don't think you'd be too happy if I don't complete it by Monday, Sukuna."-

As soon as you sent the message, it was as if there was an answer already waiting, and your phone almost immediately vibrated in response. -"Just stay the whole weekend with me, I don't even care anymore at this point. You can finish that here after I'm finished with you. I've already transferred the train ticket vouchers to you. The last one leaves at 10:51 pm. I'll pick you up at the station when you arrive. Just don't keep me waiting, my pretty, little thing."-

Running a hand over your forehead that felt a bit damp from nervousness, you shoved your phone into your pocket and let out a quiet but heavy breath. Having an affair with your boss was undoubtedly making you the happiest you've felt in years, but still, at the same time, it made you so frightened and ashamed. Especially since it felt like you were getting more attached to him, though you knew Sukuna wasn't looking for a serious relationship of any kind. He had made that perfectly clear. Painfully clear. You weren't the only woman in his life that he entertained, and you knew you wouldn't be the last. You were just fortunate to have his attention, for now.

He certainly knew how to make you feel like the only woman in the world though, despite knowing you were just sharing him. At least he kept his wandering eyes and flirtatious comments under check when the two of you were spending time together. Meanwhile, Toji acted like the biggest flirt in the world with every woman he encountered, even with you at his side.

Toji could be so gentle and loving when he wanted to be, but it never lasted long, and it was only when he was rewarding you for properly behaving. There'd always be something to set him off or some woman nearby he couldn't keep his eyes off of. You were certain he had been sleeping with other women for years, the way he acted around some of them proved it. Despite your supsicions, you had stayed faithful and loyal. Even through the beatings and constant derogatory things he called you. You weren't sure if it was because you had morals, or because you were terrified of him.

So long as you were obedient like a trained dog, Toji wouldn't hurt you. Mentally or physically. Most of the time you were too frightened to fall out of line, knowing how easily he could knock you out, or break an arm; something he's done before in a fit of drunken rage. He definitely scared the shit out of you, and cheating or lying like this was enough to make you shake in fear for your safety.

But, Sukuna never asked you to officially stay for several days like this at his own home. Sure, you've taken work trips together, but even though you gave yourself to Sukuna in any way he wanted, most of those were strictly professional and work related. So, as terrified as you were of your fiancé finding out, you couldn't pass up this type of opportunity. Maybe Sukuna was getting more attached to you as well? 

"I have no desire for a relationship of any kind beyond this. Don't get any hopes or ideas, I simply enjoy what we have, and it wont ever change."

Doubtful.

Even knowing his attitude towards your relationship, it wasn't always easy to keep your mind free of hopeful thoughts, unfortunately. The way he'd hold you so close or kiss you so gently at times brought such confusion it hurt almost worse than any slap from Toji.

You carefully snuck out of the apartment, praying to god that Toji wouldn't hear you. You'd have to come up with some lie at some point, but for now, you just wanted to see the man you desperately longed for. The train station was only a couple of minutes away from your apartment, so it was a quick walk down the road. Approaching the kiosk to pick up your tickets, you held the voucher barcode on your phone underneath the scanner and it printed out a set of tickets for you to board the train. 

Knowing the ride would be a little time-consuming, roughly over an hour, you stared aimlessly out the window for most of the trip, your leg bouncing in anticipation. You tried not to think of all the shameful things you were going to let this beast of a man do to you through the rest of the night, and how you craved every bit of it. It was the only time you didn't have to think or worry, you could just let Sukuna use you as he wanted. 

Nearing the destination, you clicked on Yuna's name in your contacts and took a quick selfie, angling the camera so your pushed-up boobs were clearly visible as well. Before Sukuna, you could never feel confident enough to take such pictures. Even when Toji demanded some risqué photos, you couldn't feel comfortable doing so. Sending them to Sukuna was exciting, however. Being satisfied after a few images, you attached a message, -"I'm coming. ❤"-

-"Yeah, you'll be screaming that soon enough."- he replied nearly instantly.

God, you could hear his cocky chuckle through the text. -"Please, 'cause I seriously need it. This whole week was awful."- You type out, still feeling the throbbing, dull pain in your side where Toji jammed his fist into your ribs for talking back to him. -"Yeah? Well, glad I had you come over then. I'll make sure to fuck all of the stress out of you."-

He sent another photo and you nearly dropped your phone once it popped up on the screen as you weren't expecting to see his large hand tightly wrapped around his hardened cock. You let out a near silent yet audible whimper as your eyes fixated on it. A shudder traveled through your body as you recalled how amazing he could make you feel.

You were just grateful Sukuna asked you to come over tonight, and it not be mainly for work, considering you and Toji had another fight about his past financial problems that somehow became your main responsibility to fix. At the time of your engagement when you were young, dumb, and in love, you had agreed to put all of his bills in your name and his credit debt as soon as possible so he could catch a break and start rebuilding his finances and you'd be able to help with the payments then.

Of course, through some miscommunication, you were responsible for ALL the payments now, and you couldn't keep up. To make it worse, he kept taking out new loans for who knows what and it seriously terrified you. Loan sharks were nothing to mess with. They'd give you anything you want, but if you didn't pay it back, they weren't afraid to get rough for their money. No point in calling the cops either, cause the cops were scared of them half the time too.

Seeing the city lights get closer, you let out a deep breath of suspense, knowing within the next few moments or so you'd be getting fucked stupid in one of the very expensive, luxury penthouses of the seductively, dominant man you met only a few months ago.

You knew the moment you had literally run into him while rushing down the sidewalk, causing his hot morning coffee to spill onto you and all over his expensive suit that things were going to change in your life, even if just for a little while.

End Prologue

I hope you enjoyed! <3 I'm happy to actually be writing this story again. I truly LOVE comments so please leave some! They make me smile so much. ヾ(•ω•`)o

I'll do my absolute best to keep this story updated, unlike before. I promise!

[ironwoman359]

I believe you’ve said you are no longer in the Sanders Sides Fandom anymore so feel free to ignore this. I have fallen back into the fandom and was wondering if you had any good fic recommendations? I know you’ve written some too. I’m not sure what types I want but I do enjoy whump, hurt/comfort, found family, and angst. Thanks in advance.

So, my entire Sanders Sides masterlist is here, but I can give you some specific recs of mine that fit that vibe!

A Fiendly Reunion is a canonverse multi-chapter whump/hurt-comfort fic in which the dark sides kidnap Virgil post SvS:Redux, and Thomas and the light sides venture into the dark side of the mindscape to rescue him.

We Blankly Stare is a 3-chapter whump fantasy story in which a naga Janus is kept as a pet who is rescued by the other sides. (and if whump is your thing, this whole list here is of responses to a Bad Things Happen Bingo prompt card)

Replicated is a whumpy science fiction story done through an interactive ask blog I run called @ts-replicated-au. In it, Thomas discovers that his DNA has been used to make test subjects in a massive facility that does all kinds of unethical experiments on human clones. The story is on indefinite hiatus right now but I've always wanted to return to it and at least complete the Escape Arc of the story.

Other authors I'd recommend (though several, like myself, ALSO don't write much for the fandom anymore):

@tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors, whose work ranges from the sweetest fluff to the sharpest angst and whom I adore with my whole heart (and who DOES still write for the fandom, just uploaded a massive chapter to a very angsty time loop story, Violet is incredible seriously)

@delimeful who tells wonderful fantasy and sci-fi stories, many of which make my h/c heart oh so happy

@asofterfan's punk au has some of the most heartfelt writing I've ever read, and also some incredible artwork (one of their pieces inspired me to write a whump fic that to this day is one of my most popular on both tumblr and AO3, Broken Wings )

@random-snippets, which is the writing blog of @randomslasher, a dear friend and excellent writer who from what I recall was the first fic author I ever read whump from who called it whump, thus giving me a great new term to put into this website's terrible search feature.

There are so many others who deserve a look, and so many now who I'm sure are making new and fresh Sanders Sides content that I'm not aware of, so anyone who's got any good recs for anon, drop them in the notes!

[poopybaby3th]

Can I call you tonight?

I’m lying in bed, restless, not getting a wink of sleep because I’m thinking of my partner. Well, she’s not really my partner yet, is she? She’s just a work partner—and my best friend at that. I glance over at my alarm to check the time: 3:27 a.m. I want to talk to her, but I don’t want to wake her up. I toss and turn, sighing and groaning until I look at the clock again. 3:32 a.m.

Fuck.

I stumble over the thought of texting her to see if she’s awake. I know she has trouble sleeping sometimes too. Finally, I pick up my phone and send a message to Arden.

"Hey, you awake?" Message sent.

The last time she was online was four hours ago. I set my phone back on the nightstand and start fidgeting with my ring—the one Arden gave me. She has the same one. She gave it to me so I’d stop bouncing my leg all the time, and it worked. Now, whenever we’re sitting in the car together, waiting on a bounty, we both end up fidgeting with our rings. She calls us "ADHD besties."

My expression darkens for a moment when I think about that label. Is that all we are? Best friends? Nothing more, right?

While my thoughts wander back to Arden, my phone vibrates. My heart skips a beat when I see her reply:

"Yeah, what’s up? Can’t sleep?"

Instead of texting her back, I hit the call button.

“Hey, dork,” she says, her voice warm and teasing.

I huff, amused. “Hey, Arden.”

I hear her shifting in bed. “So, what’s up?”

I lean back, setting the phone beside me on speaker. “I could ask you the same thing,” I reply slyly.

“True. How about this: I’ll tell you what’s keeping me awake if you tell me what’s keeping you awake,” she offers.

I yawn. “Sounds like a deal.”

She yawns back. “Alright, you first.”

I scoff. “Why do I have to go first? I’m the one gracing you with my presence—you should go first.”

Arden makes a disapproving noise. “I asked you first, so you should go first.”

I glare at the ceiling, stubbornly refusing to give in. After a moment, I sigh. “Okay, fine, I’ll tell you.”

“I’m listening.”

My heart pounds as I try to muster up the courage. “I’m thinking about you.”

Arden hums. “Okay, and?”

“You’re keeping me awake.”

“Yeah, because we’re calling.”

“No, Arden. I was thinking about you even before we were on the phone. You’re the reason I’m awake.”

“Huh…” She goes quiet. I think I broke her.

Finally, she speaks again. “Why?” she asks, her tone confused.

“I like thinking about you,” I admit, trying to sound nonchalant.

I hear her mumbling, as if she’s trying to form a coherent sentence.

“I don’t think I understand how you mean that,” she says finally, her voice wavering.

“I mean that I like to think about you… romantically.”

Uncomfortable silence stretches between us, and I decide to break it.

“Arden?”

“What? Oh, yeah, I’m still here. Just… processing.”

“Do you want me to hang up?”

“No, no, no! Don’t hang up. I’m done processing.” She lets out a sigh—I can’t tell if it’s one of relief or disappointment. “I… I like you too.”

My heart skips several beats. “You like me too?” I ask, barely able to contain my excitement.

“Yeah,” she says softly. I can hear the smile in her voice.

I sit there, grinning like an idiot, before making a decision.

“Okay, screw this—I’m coming over,” I announce.

“COMING OVER?! AT THIS TIME?! WITH YOUR BIKE?! NO WAY. If anyone’s coming over, it’s me,” she protests.

“Nope, I’ll be ready faster. I’ll be fine on my bike.”

“Uh-uh. You are not getting on your bike. I’ll drive to your place.”

I throw on a jacket, slip into my shoes, and grab my keys. “Too late—I’m already dressed. I’m on my way.”

I hear her sigh, amused but resigned. “Okay, but be careful.”

“I always am,” I reply, grinning as I get on my bike. “I’ll keep you on the line so you don’t have to worry.”

The ride to Arden’s place is uneventful, as expected at 3 a.m. The streets are quiet. When I arrive, I raise my hand to knock, but before I can, the door swings open, and Arden practically throws herself at me, wrapping her arms around my waist.

I wrap my arms around her in return, nuzzling into her shoulder.

“Hey,” I mumble.

“Hi,” she whispers back.

We stay like that for a while before heading inside. Instead of going to the living room, we make our way to her bedroom. It’s late, and we both know we’ll probably fall asleep while talking.

I sit on one side of the bed while she sits on the other, facing me.

“So…” we both start at the same time, then laugh.

“Are we… together now?” I ask, wanting to clarify things.

“I mean, I want us to be together,” she says, nervously. “But if you’re not ready, we can—”

“I love that. Hey, girlfriend,” I interrupt, grinning. “God, I love calling you that.”

I take her face in my hands, looking at her with pure adoration.

“I like when you call me that too,” she says, her cheeks flushed.

We’re both grinning like idiots when I notice her gaze flicker to my lips. I pull her closer.

“Can I kiss you?” I whisper, my voice breathless.

Instead of answering, she leans in and presses her lips to mine. The kiss starts out rough and eager but quickly softens into something gentle. Our lips move together, our tongues exploring with curiosity.

After what feels like forever—but also not long enough—we pull apart, breathless.

I yawn, and Arden follows suit.

“We should sleep,” she says, glancing at the clock.

I glance too. 4:24 a.m.

“Yeah, we should,” I agree.

We lie down and pull the blanket over us. I wrap myself around her, letting her use my arm as a pillow.

“Good night, partner,” Arden murmurs sleepily.

“Good night,” I whisper back.

Before I know it, I’m fast asleep, wrapped around the person I feel most comfortable with.

[chamerionwrites]

There are a number of specific personal anecdotes I could cite here. But many years later, the one that (sort of ironically given how it ultimately turned out) hacks me off the most is this:

In college, walking in a park at dusk, with my friend and his two roommates (all dudes). We came over a hill, heard a yelp, and silhouetted against the fading sunset we saw the shadow of a large man throwing what was clearly a much smaller woman to the ground.

My friend and I sprinted down the hill, shouting and clenching our fists, fully prepared to try to fuck this guy up. It’s at this point that I should probably mention that in college I was all of 130 pounds (at 5’9”). My friend Mike was a little Filipino guy several inches shorter than me; I quite possibly outweighed him. (Also he happens to be gay, which is not an indicator of somebody’s prowess in a fight, but you know. Plenty of people sure think that it is.)

This story has a happier and more anticlimactic ending than it may initially appear, because as it turned out this was a guy and his girlfriend goofing around and we jumped to the worst conclusions because it was dark and nobody else was around. She thought the whole thing was hilarious. He was extremely red in the face, but also kind of sheepishly grateful to us for intervening. A minute later Mike’s roommates came down the hill, also looking sheepish and a little wary, and everything was explained and no harm was done.

Afterward one of the roommates playfully took me to task for it. What did I think I was going to do, against this guy who was twice my size? I told him I didn’t really have time to think about it, I just reacted, but I wasn’t going to do nothing. “So you started a fight that I would have had to finish,” he told me. Still playfully, but I thought I could sense some real frustration there. “I’m the one who would have had to intervene, to keep you from getting your ass kicked.”

Like I said he was being playful, and at the time I didn’t react as strongly as I wish I had in hindsight. But the older I’ve gotten and the more I’ve thought about that situation, the angrier I’ve become. I signed him up for a fight? He and the other roommate were the ones waffling at the top of the hill. There were four of us and one of the other guy, and he hung back like a coward, and then he tried to frame that as a failure on my part instead of a failure on his.

This is what I always think about, when I hear that kind of who-will-protect-you-if-not-for-traditionally-masculine-men whining. As a person who tends to get along pretty well with men, whose most beloved and admired friends are and always have been mostly men, who frankly has always had a bit of trouble making friends with women and fitting into women-only spaces (and there is A LOT to be said about the whys of this, much of it about toxic femininity and women as enforcers of misogyny and the gendered violence they will aim at other women who don’t Do Gender correctly - so don’t clown in my notes)….I have enormous respect and admiration for my male friends! I get as annoyed as anyone when people are unnecessarily shitty to or about men.

But also, I’m gonna be real with you guys. When the chips are down far too many of you - white straight cis men especially - are abject self-centered cowards who will not raise a finger to defend anyone more vulnerable than yourselves. Who actively loathe vulnerability, in fact, because you have been taught to have zero compassion for it in either others or (tragically) yourself. Who would not last even a single day in the shoes of the women and queer people that you secretly or not-so-secretly consider soft.

Possibly THE most obnoxious misogynist talking point to me personally is the whining about how only a good guy with a gun patriarchal masculinity can stop a bad guy with a gun patriarchal masculinity, so you stupid women had better stop shit-talking men (complaining about misogyny) because who will protect you otherwise?

Uh, statistically? Not you.

Anecdotally, in 9 out of 10 cases the person who intervenes when a man is being violent/threatening/creepy/etc is a woman or a queer dude, so. Also not you.

[thefleshyougoveggie]

cishets (and some queer ppl too…) think it’s an insult to say “you seem like you had a steven universe phase” and it’s like??? yes i did???

and i honestly don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.

oh i’m so sorry for liking a cartoon with queer characters and positive messages

🙄🙄🙄

[nobodybetterlookatme]

nah cuz I would pass away if someone asked me if I was into them 😭 but CONGRATS ON GETTING THE DATE!! I hate to say we told you so, but we definitely told you so 😌💅

Bro I literally short circuited lmaoooo like it was not cute and I almost died fr. But yeah, date secured ahskaksk y'all were right 😭 it still feels so surreal lmao I'm still vibrating about it

[team-canon]

I refuse to do it badly no matter what you ask.

Persona is a game series about exploring the human psyche. People always joke about the anime tropes and the dating sim aspects, but it makes it work better in my opinion, because the characters being archetypal and having a mechanic designed to let you get to know them better makes that exploration of the psyche much easier. You see these characters at their best and worst, and it reflects in the form of unnatural entities created by the subconscious; Shadows, which are a dark and bastardized caricature of the person's innermost secret they don't want to share, and Personas, entities that a person can create from within themselves, forged from those same inner feelings and fueled by accepting them, which does its creator's bidding and has the power to harm the Shadows and other creatures inside the "other world"(for lack of a better term) that exists in a different form in each game.

The Persona as a concept is a whole discussion on its own, but in simplest terms, there's several hundred, some of them specialized to and only used by one person, others able to manifest for anyone that can go through the arcane process that allows their use. Regardless, the Persona's name, appearance, and power all comes from various folklore characters throughout history and culture, a part of the collective will of mankind

In Persona 1, the entire town is plunged into the other world of that particular game, and the main character Naoya has to get his school back in order while he and his friends work their way through the complex mystery of why all this happened in the first place.

Persona 2 is in two parts, Innocent Sin and Eternal Punishment. IS is about the new protagonist Tatsuya, a reporter named Maya, Tatsuya's classmates, and some of the party members from Persona 1, all trying to figure out what happened in the town of the setting, that causes people's wishes and rumors to come true at the cost of reality bending further and further. EP takes place a year or two later, with Maya as the protagonist, working to uncover why no one else remembers what happened in Innocent Sin, and why the same type of events are happening all over again

Some people think Persona 3 is the real start, but that's a weak stance. That said, 3 is where the social elements get introduced, so I appreciate it all the same. The story follows a boy named Minato, or, as an option in the PSP version, a girl named Hamuko, who moved to a dorm in a new city, and discovers that the other kids in the dorm, like Minato himself, have the ability to use a Persona, and they all have been tasked with using their power to investigate the massive dungeon tower known as Tartarus, believed to be the taproot of the Shadows that plague humanity every midnight. But the real fun is that, because it's only a nighttime problem, in the day when everything is normal, Minato can go to school, take tests, do part time jobs, go on dates, and bond with friends, and in doing so better understand other people and himself, and through these crafted bonds awaken the power to summon and wield more Personas, becoming more and more powerful during the Shadow Hunts.

Persona 4 sees Yu, the protagonist, going to live with his uncle Dojima and(painfully cute) cousin Nanako for a school year. In the small town they live in, he and some friends he make find that there's another world, accessed by going into a TV, where Shadows swarm them, Yu can summon a Persona to fight those Shadows, and also there's a giant talking teddy bear that people either love or hate. At the same time as that, mysterious murders have been happening in the town, which the bear helps Yu and crew figure out have been done inside the world within the TV, so the students band together to use the power of Persona to explore inside the TV and find out who the killer is. But on the way, they discover what was hinted at in earlier titles: Shadows are created directly from the darkest thoughts of a person, and inside the other world, a Shadow can form themselves to look like a person and goad the one they look like into doing things they wouldn't normally do

Persona 5 goes the opposite way fro. 4, sort of. Ren is the protagonist, sent to a different city after getting in trouble with the law, made to stay with a friend of his parents who doesn't trust him, and made to feel like an outcast in the school he's sent to, he and other outcasts find a talking cat, and that cat leads them to a place that he tells them is made by the human collective unconscious. In this place, everyone has a mask put on them, and Shadows roam halls of places called Palaces, bastions of indulgence where a person's belief of themselves being something creates a reality where a Shadow if them is that for real. And when Ren and the other outcasts remove their masks, remove the representation of the facade out up by society's rules, the mask becomes a Persona that can fight against the Shadows, and if the one that created the Palace is defeated, the person who made it will give up on what lifestyle choices they made to reach that point. With this, the outcasts become the Phantom Thieves of Hearts, and vow to pull heists on the Palaces of people they feel have wronged them or society in some way, to make them give up on their poor actions and confess to their crimes, with the ultimate goal of going after the corrupt politician who was the reason Ren came here in the first place

There's a lot more. A LOT more. But this is the simplest description I could do. If you want more, we can talk in PM, or you can ask someone who can speak more concisely

Someone explain the Persona games to me, someone who knows nothing about Persona.

[buttercup-barf]

Under the cut are mostly self-insert doodles of decreasing quality. Again, not much directly tied to Team Fortress 2. Might as well toss these out while I have no access to my puter. Much yapping under the cut and in the tags incoming.

Another self-insert, this time less of a "here's me as a tenth class" and more of a "here's my game experiences translated into the class I would take the place of". The Cleaner. Although I guess they could still be wearing either suit. It doesn't matter that much.

That one Convict's Case taunt with Backup would be extremely funny, because the man would be on the verge of a breakdown (he does not want to go to jail so bad you have no idea). The second image- I owe no explanation. You know what I am. You see the pattern with my favourites.

The duality of the man. Resting face versus "just heard you express interest in religion/Russian folklore" face. He's not that hard to make friends with, when you pull him away from all the explosions.

Some doodles of trying to figure his face out. Unfortunately, the more I stare at him, the more I worry that he looks like A Certain Guy With The Last Name "Kazarin", and the fear of never being original in my life caught up to me.

Don't look at me, don't perceive me, I refuse to explain any of my actions to you.

[tittyinfinity]

It's really nice having a free housekeeping service thru my Medicaid but ever since my regular housekeeper that I had for a year (now friend) got promoted in March it's like every other person I've had fuckin hates disabled people

[residentialsinyomakai]

Here's that update thingy i was talking about ×) haven't shown my wall in a bit but!! Quite a few things have been added

[captain-space-kin]

What the absolute FUCK did they put in the water this show hiatus, because it is making some parts of this community have the most RANCID vibes I’ve seen in a long time.

I was talking to some friends about this and was wondering if anyone else noticed this? Am I hallucinating?? Did they put toxic gas in the S2P2 leaks??? What is happening????

[ourladyoftheflytrap]

It's fucked up that the sober population straight up ignores how a huge portion of addicts have chronic illnesses

[bokuwadekinaiko]

cw post / tags. sorry

i don't even know if i have the words

to express this

she's gone

and its all my fault