#this whole thing was a literal experiment

[narcjsistx]

— 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐑𝐈𝐍 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈! ; words: 0.5k

think about the first time you and RIN ITOSHI slept in the same bed... nothing sexual, wait!! or at least, not that time. you've been together for a while now, but you've never spent the night together since he always comes home late after practice and you're busy with your activities

so when you got stuck at the itoshi's house after having dinner with his family, having you sleep with him was the only option. there was a storm outside and it would be dangerous to go out in all that rain!. when his parents suggested you stay at their house, Rin was already thinking about how strange it would be to have you SO CLOSE for A WHOLE NIGHT. not that he minds tho

he lent you an old shirt and shorts of his, leaving you the bathroom free while he waited for you in his room. he was literally dying of anxiety, not that he was ashamed, but what was he supposed to do? he had been used to sleeping alone for practically forever, except for a few times when he had slept in his parents' bed because of the storms, but he was a child! and now YOU would be lying next to HIM??

when you came out of the bathroom wearing his clothes, he almost exploded. you were beautiful. too beautiful. i mean, you always were, but with his stuff on you were even more beautiful. and while he was lying down and you were getting under the covers, the only noise outside was fortunately that of the storm, otherwise you would have heard his heart. it was exploding

for a while, he pretended to be asleep. he didn't really know what to do, all the scenarios where he got a little closer ended in catastrophe in his mind. he didn't want to make such an intimate experience uncomfortable for you, it was the last thing in the world he wanted. but hell, he wanted to hug you so bad at the same time

shyly, his arm rested on your waist, and when he noticed that you didn't seem bothered, he put the other one under you and slowly pulled you towards him. he hid his anxiety well but inside he was wondering if he had overdone it since yeah, you didn't seem bothered, but you weren't even hugging him back. maybe he had exaggerated

but when your arms wrapped around his upper back, Rin breathed a sigh of relief. the anxiety slowly melted away as he rested his face on your chest, enjoying the feeling of having you so close and warm. he couldn't decide whether he preferred this or scoring goals in a match

when he woke up the next morning, you were both in the exact same position, his arms still wrapped around your waist as if you might escape. your head was resting on the pillow and at the same time on his head, which remained on your breast. it was relaxing to see you so calm in the morning, still in dreamland

maybe you were dreaming about him

he had been dreaming about you all night

he could almost get used to this, if one day you decided to spend the rest of your life together

✶ 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!

[osakanone]

Writer here.

Actually to hell with this false equivalence and the advice.

Advice is a form of social nostalgia. We learn something, but we remove the bad parts to help us remember the thing. We simplify it down.

When we pass it on, we conveniently forget to put the shitty parts back on, because that's how memory works and its part of how we value advice appropriateness of past experiences.

We do this even when someone's situation and context is totally unlike our own and we do so with confidence until we learn not to.

The big lesson?

Life doesn't generalize. Neither does context.

Experience does not generalize. That's literally how and why people are different from one another. We get to know people unlike ourselves so we can see differing contexts, so we know when our experiences do not generalize. So we can see beyond ourselves.

Some people desperately want to think all of life generalizes, but that's the same mentality which produces people who think they can personal choices their way out of any imaginable problem.

As an example, a thousand Signalis like tragedies doesn't prepare someone for a dead spouse.

A million Disco Elysiums cannot undo decades of catastrophic self-hatred.

Its not like a fire-drill where after doing it enough you go into autopilot with some kind of readiness and automaticity even if it claims to sell you that fantasy.

It can put tools in your hand, but only if your context is close enough that the tools are actionable and useful.

If the realization is not useful, you can't act on it.

Sometimes it is, sometimes its not, often because minor contextural factors will intervene.

What if you have a lot of complex feelings about both a dead spouse and your concept of gender and its all too muddled to process in Signalis and it messes with your ability to process your grief?

What if you have a lot of complex feelings about an alcoholic parent and Harry makes you forgive things you shouldn't forgive?

People are influenced by media, and they do do things like this.

Sometimes instinctively, they even know they shouldn't and will drop something.

Like don't get me wrong, advice is helpful sometimes but its ultimately still advice in the form of roleplay with number of players zero.

The real thing is not an abstraction.

Sometimes what people actually need isn't piles and piles of tools, but distance. To know things can be different, or just not to think about what's happening so they can get things done that will help their situation. To know there is something worth working towards. That it isn't going to rain forever.

Sometimes what people want is catharsis or just relief or to feel seen rather than to learn or be told something or shown a different way to think or be given actionable tools.

They just want to escape so there's a reward to getting things done that let them continue to exist. A carrot on the end of a stick so things feel worth doing.

Sometimes people aren't willing to suffer to get there because they're already so depleted, and get those lessons because they just want a carrot to only be a carrot.

You might say that unreasonable or unrealistic or even childish but many people don't get a controlled environment in their heads to begin with (and potentially not even one in their lives) so your bit about a controlled sandbox doesn't generalize either.

The sheer distance of how far away two human contexts can even be is beyond imagination in its nuanced emergent subtleties.

Nothing in our evolution has prepared us for the era we live in.

Lots of people as a defense mechanism will struggle to connect with others who have difficult experiences as a means of limiting the incoming pain as they're already saturated.

That's not going to help someone connect to a story or care enough to complete it.

Fiction can be useful to bridge those gaps or even bring people closer, but it won't make people whole again, especially if they don't even know what being whole is or if they don't have space to walk.

Remember Maslow's higherarchy?

Think of where you have to be for personal growth to happen.

Lots of people begin from below the ground up, not even knowing what experiences they didn't get to have or what lessons they weren't taught as children, assuming they were even taught any.

The context where your advice genuinely helps?

Not everybody is there.

Please remember this.

Take care.

whenever people say they can't watch/play/read anything slightly upsetting or scary or challenging because it's... upsetting or scary or challenging all i can think of is this lol

[monsters-demons-and-ai-oh-my]

TW: Talk about mental health and sui ideation and sui attempt

I feel the need to talk more about Jayce's "attempt" again because of what I learned from his journal in the "Council Archives"

There's a fair argument to be made that Jayce was already in a very bad headspace even BEFORE the explosion in his apartment.

If you read Jayce's journals it feels like Jayce was ALREADY spiraling before he got kicked out of the academy. For a few reasons.

-----

1.Jayce was very isolated to begin with.

He was working on experiments he knew were illegal and was so paranoid about being found out he started coming up with insults to call another student who almost caught him throwing away a failed experiment.

He also seemed to only be able to cheer himself up by talking shit about other people's work and how everyone else just couldn't measure up to how important his work was and would be. And when he finally meets Viktor he talks about never really thinking he'd take to working with another scientist.

(Honestly, pre-act 1 Jayce comes off a little more like his LOL counterpart which make me believe Arcane Jayce meeting and working with Viktor as early as he did is what helped make him the version of himself he is in Arcane?)

------

2. Jayce was not really sleeping and his schoolwork and grades were going downhill.

He talks in his journal about the fact that he's not getting to sleep until sunrise a lot of nights because he was trying and failing to make the crystals work.

And as a direct consequence of not sleeping he talks about Heimerdinger (the DEAN) having to come talk to him because his grades are slipping.

Jayce literally decides to make a graph correlating his lack of sleep to his poor academic performance.

(Later he expresses concern that he might get expelled from the academy because his work is slipping that badly).

And remember all the while when he is so sleep-deprived he can't focus on coursework he is FULLY CONVINCED he can figure out Hextech. You know a whole new field of study. It doesn't work, shockingly.

------

3. Ximena was already worried about Jayce wellbeing and trying to get him to go outside and be around others.

He eats some snacks insults some people's work to himself and then goes back to doing what he was doing.

Not a lot to talk about with this one except it's no wonder she tried to get him to back off magic if she could already tell he wasn't okay especially when we consider the state he was in at that point.

You also see that both his mother and Heimerdinger were expressing valid concern for him only for him to brush it off.

-----

4. Near the end of the journal entries before we get to the ACT 1 content he says some concerning things considering his later attempt on his life.

First he starts to doubt what he's getting anywhere he remembers something Heimdinger once said about most inventors failing a 1000 times before succeeding and he makes a self-deprecating joke about "I suppose I must be closing in...".

Then he straight up says he can't see a path forward.

And when makes a pros and cons list of his experiments where he talks about how the work with the crystals is very dangerous and if he pushes to much it could kill him but also how he's in danger of getting expelled if he can't sort out his schoolwork.

and then he writes.

"Which is worse? Killed or expelled?"

Which is certainly a Harry Potter reference but also given his eventual attempt is very telling.

And it's closely followed by him saying his mom was worried about him, which... seems valid.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Also on a side note unrelated to the journal entries.

Jayce's attempt was not a choice made suddenly in a rush of emotion like Viktor's, he planned it.

Jayce not only left what was implied to be a suicide note he took the methodical time to literally WAX SEAL the note with his official house mark. And it took Viktor a long long while of talking to him to get him to back away from the ledge. He was fully committed to committing.

-------------------------------------------------

Final thoughts: I think Jayce was in a place in his mind backed into a corner.

He wasn't able to reach out for help or even trust anyone because of the nature of his work. He wasn't listening to people that were concerned about him. And the way in which Jayce was doing his work was damaging to himself and his life in general. He was spiraling.

He needed someone else there to share the weight of what he was trying to do, to be able to reach out to outside of his own head which was the person Viktor became to him.

Part of me even wonders if Jayce was already in a place where he might have ended up on that ledge without the explosion if he didn't change his ways or have a sudden breakthrough.

[cybershock24601]

Imagining a Ingellvar who still on reflex does things like have their breakable things sufficiently anchored in case gravity changes and keeping important documents under things in case of blood rain and just having a whole bunch of quirks that they don't really think of as quirks just because they're things she grew up doing because she grew up in a place where reality's rules change and twists. The team tries to ask her why she does what she does. Her and Emmerich's explanations raise more questions than they answer.

Ingellvar having a bunch of weird little habits from growing up in the Necropolis that everyone just passes off as personal quirks until Emmrich shows up and does the same things and suddenly what everyone wrote off as weird quirks become a bit of a mystery. The team does ask about it but everyone's convinced that Ingellvar and Emmrich are fucking with them because what do you mean you always carry an umbrella around in case of blood rain??

At least everyone is convinced they're being messed with until they're accompanying Rook and Emmrich to the Necropolis and start to experience how fucking weird it is.

Harding is tagging along behind Rook and Emmrich and suddenly Emmrich vanishes out of thin air and Harding starts freaking out while Rook's all like "chill, it's just a Chronological Incontinence Incident. Emmrich will be fine" and Harding's like "What does that even mean???" and Rook starts to explain going full Watcher mode and by the time she's almost done Emmrich is back and it's all good though he does disagree with Rook's preferred theory behind the phenomena and they end up having a rather spirited debate on the subject while Harding is slowly losing her mind and also takes note that Rook really does talk different in the Necropolis.

Neve's helping Rook and Emmrich clear out some more Venatori that have snuck into the Necropolis and suddenly the gravity turns off and everyone starts floating. Rook and Emmrich barely pause in their spell slinging while everyone else is freaking out. Neve too is freaking out but does an admirable job of composing herself after she falls on her ass when she hits the ground while Rook and Emmrich nimbly land on their feet.

Davrin's trying to keep Assan from turning the bones lying around into chew toys when suddenly the room is submerged in total darkness and he suddenly gets an armful of freaked out baby griffin as Assan tries to climb his way up Davrin in a panic at being suddenly blinded. Or alternately Assan ends up going right to sleep like a bird, I'm not sure whether the bird side or the cat side would win out here. Either way while Davrin's wondering what the fuck is going on, Rook and Emmrich are being super chill about the whole experience because sudden unexplained darkness is not that uncommon in the Necropolis.

Lucanis is the lucky one who gets blood rained on. It starts out like little droplets of water which is strange enough because they're inside but the smell of iron is unmistakable and the red color is pretty unmistakably blood like and Lucanis barely gets out a very emphatic "what the fuck" before it suddenly starts pouring blood rain. Luckily Rook and Emmrich always carry an umbrella around so Lucanis gets to share with Rook. Bonus points for this being pretty early in their romance and Rook is swooning over how romantic it is to have a nice walk through the blood rain sharing an umbrella while Lucanis is Going Through It and experiencing the horrors of Necropolis. The fact that Rook and Emmrich are so unfazed about the fact that it is literally raining blood almost makes the situation worse.

Bellara is the one that handles the weirdness of the Necropolis the best because Arlathan Forest gets pretty freaky too. Remember the story about the guy stuck in the clouds? So while the Necropolis' shenanigans are generally creepier, she takes the weird shit in stride and is actually very interested on the why and how of why all the statues in the room suddenly started crying blood.

Taash is the only one to escape the madness because they nope the fuck out of ever going to the Necropolis once everyone starts mentioning the weird stuff that goes on there. Necromancy is already bad enough but they are not going to haunted super cemetery.

Because I am a fan of semi-sentient locations, the reason the Necropolis keeps acting up like this is because it's excited it's Crypt Baby is back and that excitement is manifesting in weird unexplained phenomena.

[genderqueerdykes]

tired transmasc from earlier. My discomfort with those who believe in "transandrophobia" is not from self-hate nor from radfems. It’s from listening to transfems. And I don’t believe men or masculinity are bad at all!! I am in community with with men and mascs and with women + fems all the time. It’s just plain ignorant to say we don’t have male privilege and are actually oppressed for being men. We do have privilege. The whole "everyone is saying men are evil!!" thing sounds so much like incel behaviour it’s really off putting.

hello again! thanks for dropping by, let me see if i can help explain things better, and as to why it's not okay to put down other trans men and deny that they are experience oppression just because you, one person, believes they are not. dont take this personally, but much like gravity, you not believing in it doesn't mean it's not happening. it's happening, you're just refusing to acknowledge it. this is the equivalent of plugging one's ears and humming when someone else starts talking

i'm gonna call this behavior for what it is, because yourself & every other self-flagellating trans man & transmasc who says transandrophobia doesn't exist because it belittles trans women are just hurting people ON PURPOSE with a thin guise of saying "listen to trans women!!!!!" i really hope you understand that trans women can see through that. we can tell that you're doing this specifically to hurt people, not to give trans women a platform to stand on. you think you are telling people to listen to trans women, but what you are doing is SILENCING trans men & mascs in order to do that. you can't do that to your own gender. you're silencing yourself in the process. you're participating in transmasculine erasure and this is not a good thing. don't be proud of that. don't be proud of erasing the things your siblings go through.

I have to be really, really honest with you and tell you that this kissing up to trans women for brownie points stuff is really, really obvious and none of us like it. Like I'm not being mean. Please don't take this in a sarcastic tone. I am stock serious when I say that trans women & transfems can tell when you are doing things to pander to us to act like you care about transfems and transfemininity. We can tell this is desperate virtue signalling to not look transmisogynistic and nothing else. I'm serious. You are hating people on purpose with the guise of trying to help trans women. You do not have to silence someone else in order to let trans women talk and listen to them.

If you do not want transfems & trans women to be silenced: do not silence someone else. You do not solve this problem by silencing someone else. We solve the problem by listening to each other, not forcing the other to sit in silence while only one person talks. You don't solve the problem by doing that exact thing to someone else. You're creating a new problem.

privilege is a power structure, trans men do not suddenly shoot up from oppressed woman to neurotypical cishet white able bodied man in terms of status in society. i need people to get this into their heads that trans men do not and will not ever shoot directly up the privilege ladder and instantly become abusive and predator and holding power over all the other queers. like this is completely fabricated. you can stop believing that now, it's quite literally made up by trans/rad fems because they do not interact with trans men irl to see that they struggle.

trans men are not oppressed for being men: they're oppressed for being TRANS men. the trans part is what they're being oppressed for. do you not see transmascs and trans men as trans? because if so that is highly disturbing. and don't call that "regular transphobia" because that's not true and you know it isn't trans men and mascs are oppressed... for being TRANS men. seriously. you gotta stop focusing on "men bad" so hard that you literally forget that trans men are trans. back it up. like seriously i'm dead serious. back it up one step. before you focus on the "man" part, think about the "trans" part and how you're basically denying that trans men are trans because you are so wrapped up in radfem hate. TRANS men do not become cis men after they come out. they don't become cis men after transitioning. this, quite literally, is transandrophobia. what you said right there is an example of transandrophobia. sober up, you are not thinking clearly.

the thing is that we do not have male privilege wholesale as a group. that is a lie you have been told. you have to realize most trans men never gain any form of cishet male privilege. some trans men may pass well, but if the word gets out that they're trans, they are no longer respected or viewed as a man at all. especially if you're a man of color. trans men may have an amount of privilege depending on the situation, like being someone's manager, but it is not male privilege in every situation, nor is it anywhere near the privilege that cishet perisex white abled men have.

when we have this type of conversation, we are assuming that all trans men are 100% cis passing who will never be questioned. which happens, but that does not mean those trans men do not struggle. in fact, trans men like that suffer greatly in terms of reproductive care. cis passing trans men are often outright denied reproductive care, and some need that to live. some need to see a gynecologist for a variety of reasons, and being a cis passing man can shoot you in the foot. trans men struggle in health care almost universally. trans men are constantly misgendered in medical settings, and are very often treated as though they are cis women by medical staff no matter what. trans men and mascs are also very commonly assaulted by doctors and other medical professionals

most trans men do not get paid more at their jobs. trans men struggle to get promotions. trans men struggle to get employment in male dominated fields. most trans men still deal with homelessness, sexual assault, physical assault, domestic violence, addiction, misogyny and more. trans men deal with corrective rape. trans men deal with stalking. trans men do not magically have it better in society the second they come out. it creates a whole new host of problems

gaslighting strangers and telling them they're not being abused and oppressed isn't helping anyone. i'm serious. please stop this behavior because you are the one hurting people. care about trans men and mascs. you don't have to throw transmascs and trans men under the bus in order for trans women to be heard. we don't need to be pandered to like this. it's not flattering or helping anyone. you don't need to kiss up to people who literally hate your gender.

i need you to understand that people who talk like this hate transmascs and trans men. they don't like you. they don't care about you. leave those kinds of environments. you're going to regret it if you don't. if you're thinking about your oppression aaalllll day long its all you're ever gonna see and eventually, it's gonna crush you under its weight. be careful. that's dangerous thinking.

[rostekhorn]

I don't know where it stands when compared to Campbell's Hero's Journey idea specifically, but I've always loved Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan (and the preceding episode of TOS, Space Seed) for going against a hell of a lot of established conventions when it comes to heroism and lone men saving the world.

Khan's entire backstory is that of a guy who thinks the hero's journey is real, and he's the hero, except life stubbornly refuses to conform to his narrative. He's literally the product of an attempt to make superheroes real, and he's internalized the idea that because he's stronger and smarter than everybody else, it's his destiny to rule over them for their own good. ... And real life keeps getting in the way. First, the stupid little muggles back in the 1990s refused to obey him and overthrew his empire. Then, he was unfrozen in the 23rd century, thought he had a second chance, only the stupid little muggles took that away from him again. Then, his attempt to build a new world from scratch on Ceti Alpha V also failed because of a freak natural phenomenon that none of his superior strength and intellect could handle. And then of course, the movie. His hero's journey keeps getting thwarted by, well, the fact that the world isn't actually a superhero movie, and he isn't actually its main character, and the more it happens, the angrier he gets.

But that's just Khan. Then there's Kirk. Who has more than a little of the same ego and hero complex that Khan does, and in this movie, it's all for the worst. His arrogance and belief that he's above the rules gets a whole bunch of his crew killed, ultimately including his best friend, who has to sacrifice himself to finish cleaning up his mess. The entire situation could have been avoided if Kirk had simply followed routine Starfleet procedure (kept the shields raised when encountering Reliant). The only thing that allows him to escape and stage a comeback is more routine Starfleet procedures (Reliant's command codes, and the "for God's sake use codes when you're on an open channel" rule). And when he finally comes back for round 2, the reason he wins is simply that deep space combat is something he's been doing all his life and Khan has never done before. The whole movie celebrates bureaucracy, training, and experience, over innate special individual ability.

If you go back to Space Seed, there's also the whole story about the ship's historian who falls in love with Khan but then betrays him once she realizes what he's about. I don't love all the gender politics that are wrapped up in that storyline, but I recognize the point they were trying to make. She's someone who's completely bought the romanticized vision of past figures like Khan, and has to learn, through exposure to the real thing, that people like that in real life aren't Campbellian heroes, they're brutal thugs. (It also softens the gender politics a little bit that Kirk, McCoy, and the rest of the humans have also swallowed a lot of the romantic kool-aid - not as much as her, but enough to seriously disturb Spock, the only one in this episode who sees clearly right from the start - which kind of foreshadows Kirk's flaws when they next encounter Khan in the movie).

In any case, color me unsurprised that when we got that thoughtful pushback against a bunch of our traditional heroic tropes, it came from Star Trek.

alright, I’m annoyed with the class that I’m taking. it’s about writing novels, and I thought it would have cool stuff about balancing your narrative and developing themes etc, but instead she spent the first class talking about how every book fits into the Hero’s Journey (the monomyth template). and I was somewhat of a contrarian, and said “can you give us examples of books that don’t fit into this template?” and she said “no. because all books fit.”

but I dunno man, I just finished reading this Korean book where the plot is just the character having a string of hookups and reflecting on them without changing in any way. I don’t know if it’s possible to contort that into the Hero’s Journey.

[secret-sturniolo]

to everyone bravely speaking up about their experiences, thank you, and im proud of you. i want you to know that you have literally hundreds of other accounts here that will back you up, myself included.

the sturniolo fandom holds no place for the actions of the person involved. it is disgusting, it is a crime, and it puts people in real, actual danger. endangering and preying on a minor is a whole other level of evil.

my heart breaks for the people who have been affected and have to be reminded, against their will, of the things they have experienced. it is not your fault.

your trauma is valid. your experience matters. your healing matters. do not let anyone take that away from you.

[bellamoooon]

A/N: So…Patrick’s sister, this was supposed to be shorter but I uh…I got carried away, enjoy anyway!! <33

As patricks sister, you always understood the dynamic; Patrick is the overprotective annoying older brother and you are the nerdy—he says— younger sister.

So obviously, growing up with him was an interesting experience to say the least.

Before going to MRTA, he’d usually bring his friends over after school, and of course you being the pretty little thing you are, they’d always joke around about how Patrick’s sister was hot, (literally average twelve year old when they see any female) and well Patrick, Patrick was pissed, so this is when the golden rule—he calls it— came in.

Patrick’s sister is off-limits.

Which eventually stopped being a big deal when he left for MRTA, since you’d only see him for holidays and breaks, and you didn’t really get to meet any of his friends.

Then Art comes into Patrick’s life; Bunkmates since they were twelve, both in their first year away from home.

For the first summer break, Patrick left to go to your family’s lake house with you and your parents, and Art went back home to visit his nana, he knew his parents would most likely be away working—as per usual.

But he actually finds out that his nana had already been sent to a retirement home 15 minutes out of his home town, so he visited every couple of days during that summer even though his nana kept telling him, “Artie, you don’t have to visit an antique like me, go be a kid, enjoy your summer” however he insisted in staying around her to keep company.

So when they get back, Patrick “loud mouth” Zweig rants to Art about his summer, and Art simply nods thinking about how he’d most likely stay in the academy next summer, not like he had much to go back to at home.

Fast forward a couple of months, it’s Christmas; Art is helping Patrick pack last minute when there’s a knock at the door, then they hear a feminine voice.

“Come on dickwad, mom and dad are waiting in the car”

Patrick groaned as he started to shove his things into his bag, then looking back at art as he folded some of Patrick’s shirts.

“Hey, Donaldson, mind getting the door? It’s my fuck ass sister” he said casually as he grabbed the shirts from Art.

“Sure” Art mumbled not thinking much, only trying to imagine a female Patrick behind the door, seeing as he’s never met you, so there he goes, he opens the door and finds—not a female Patrick— but the prettiest girl he’d seen just standings there in the most angelic way.

“Hey…?”

“Art, it’s uh— my name is Art” he’s stumbling over his own words in the stupidest way possible.

“What kind of name is Art? Are you like an Arthur or something?” He cringes internally but before he can answer Patrick pushes past him.

“It’s just Art, leave him alone, he’s my best friend, only I can make fun of him, find one yourself, kid” Patrick speaks as he walks out the door with his things then turns to Art, “going home for Christmas, Donny?”

Art despised that nickname, the tips of his ears went red as his whole face flushed, but he shook his head.

“My parents said they won’t be able to make for Christmas and I— I don’t want to worry my nana so…” he said shyly and a bit disappointed but, they were the same parents that had forgotten his birthday a year ago and days later brought a cake that said “happy 14th birthday” when he was turning 12.

“Awe…that sucks man, I’ll talk to my parents, you can tag along with us to our lake house next summer”

And that’s how the tradition all started, every summer, Art would spend it with Patrick’s parents, you and Patrick at the lake house, which gave him enough time to catch a little something his nana called a Lovebug, essentially, his was crushing hard.

But of course, there was the golden rule— totally off-limits.

And Art was…fine with it, it’s not like you’d ever like him back, he was probably just “Patrick’s quiet best friend” to you.

Little did he know…

Then fast forward a couple years later, coincidentally, you would also be going to Stanford without actually knowing Art had already been there for a year.

And Stanford was full of frat parties, Halloween costume parties and in general, any party within a 10 mile radius.

And you, pretty little freshman had been invited to a frat party by one of the juniors in your econ class, and I mean, you can’t be rude, right? You have to go.

So, you do.

You wind up in a frat house with a shit ton of people, some cigarette smoke and, a whole bunch of red disposable cups, so why not grab one, what’s the worst thing it could have in it, beer probably?

Wrong.

Something that to you tasted exactly what rubbing alcohol smelled like, so it goes straight from the cup to your mouth then back to the cup as you cringe letting out a single dry cough.

“You alright there?” A gentle voice popped up from behind you, familiar but you couldn’t quite tell, but as you turn there he is; Art fucking Donaldson. With a backwards red Stanford cap and a grey Stanford hoodie.

Oh.

“Oh— Art…hey” you chuckle softly still smelling the mysterious alcohol from your mouth.

“This isn’t quite your scene, huh?” He spoke as he took a sip from his cup with that goddamn side smirk of his.

“Yeah— no, I mean, I’ve been to parties, fun, fun parties. And this, this is so my scene” you rambled nervously, it was already embarrassing enough you, a freshman was at a frat party with a pretty floral skirt and a crochet sweater.

“Really? Oh…then have fun, fun girl” he laughed as he lifted his cup a bit towards you to then walk away.

Fuck it. You were gonna get wasted.

And so, that you did; Somehow ending up in just a soaked tank top, a soaked skirt, hair dripping water and, squeaky wet shoes as you stumbled out of the pool from the backyard.

“Hey, watch it—“ Art turned as he felt your body bump against his, “oh it’s you, fun girl.” He giggled as he saw you, clearly too drunk to even know what was going on, and he could’ve just laugh it off and get back to the party, but Art wasn’t like that, and specially not to you, you’re such a pretty little thing all wasted and soaked past midnight, plus, you were Patrick’s sister. He had to.

So he said his goodbyes and grabbed you as you both walked out of the frat to go back to campus.

“So tell me, miss Zweig, how does one, as drunk as you, not drown in a pool?” He said as he saw you hold onto his arm for dear life trying not to trip, which might have just dug up something he had buried years ago.

“Y’know, im fun, and this is so my people” you said looking up at him—just barely— as you let out a hiccup.

He blushed as he heard it, clearly it was your first time getting drunk drunk, adding on to the wet hair and your shivering body,

“Right, fun girl, my bad” he chuckled “come on you’re shivering, here” he pulled his hoodie off as he handed it to you, “can’t let you catch a cold, how else will you go to your next party, miss fun girl”

“Thank you, Artie.” You said as you grabbed the hoodie sliding it over your head feeling the warmth it carried from Arts body, accompanied by the faint smell of his cologne.

Meanwhile, Art was feeling like his spine had just been ripped out; Artie.

You hadn’t called him that since the summers at the lake house, where he had attempted and failed to forget his crush on you.

“Yeah— I uh…yeah” he blushed even harder as he fumbled his words not knowing how to react.

You just shut your eyes and breathed in the scent of his cologne to then open them up, there you were, doe eyed looking at him, in his hoodie, hair soaked as you unconsciously made it harder for him to be a good friend to Patrick, he felt horrible.

Not only did the disgusting thought of wanting to fuck you against his jeep popped into his head, this is Patrick’s sister he’s fantasizing about.

“Come on— I uh, I gotta get you back on campus” he cleared his throat as he looked away avoiding your stare.

“You’re no fun anymore, Artie…” a pout made itself present as you took a step closer, your hands landing on his shoulders, “come on, Donny…”

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

“Patrick would kill me, you know that.”

“I won’t tell”

He wasn’t proud of himself for turning back to look at you, but you were just so pretty, lucky he didn’t have a boner, if he hadn’t given you the hoodie to cover your very visible nipples against the tank top, he’d probably have you bent over his cars hood.

“I really— I can’t…” he mumbled, his face inches away from yours, noses brushing against each other.

“You sure?” You whispered as you stared down at his lips, “not just this once?”

“Fuck…” he muttered under his breath, well…there goes his willpower, he was in too deep already.

Next thing he knows, you’re riding him in the backseat of his car, all flushed, tits out, him whimpering as he dug his fingers into your hips holding on for dear life throwing his head back, and windows all fogged up.

Yeah, he was so screwed.

He will most definitely be breaking the golden rule for…well, let’s just say it’s not a one time thing.

[wizengamot-chiefwarlock]

All of this. I understand that there are some Remus stans who genuinely like his canon character, but most of them love him because they've forgotten that ATYD Remus and Canon Remus are literally not the same person. Different backstories, different experiences, even different personalities. Remus in the books was honestly not that great. Yeah, he did a lot of wonderful stuff-- especially helping Harry fight off the dementors-- but in general, all of it is magnified to be more than it actually was. Remember how it was Harry who had to insist that Lupin should teach him? It's obvious from canon how incredibly close he was with his friends-- the Mauraders-- but admit it, he really didn't put in that much effort with Harry, despite Harry being his literal best friend's son (especially if you compare it to how hard Sirius tried). I'm not saying that he put no effort, just not as much as expected from someone who was one of Harry's dad's best friends. I personally don't dislike him, so to speak, but I don't really like him either. Sorta neutral about him, ig. P.S. since the original post was exclusively about Remus and Harry's relationship, the whole 'liking Remus' thing probably sounds random as liking his character as a whole is not only tied to his relationship with Harry. I actually had another post in mind while reblogging this, which is a lovely, detailed and nuanced analysis about Lupin's canon character itself by @/padfootastic. you can read it here .

“Harry didn’t name any of his kids after Remus because he’s saving that option for Teddy!”

Wrong. Harry didn’t name any of his kids after Remus because it wasn’t personal enough.

James Sirius is named after his two fathers; Lily Luna is named after his mother and one of his and Ginny’s best friends. Albus Severus is named after two wizards who were incredibly influential for Harry’s development and safety (I have a HC on why on earth Harry decided to name his child after Dumbledore and Snape, but that’s a separate post entirely). None of his and Ginny’s kids are named after Remus, not (just) because they wished to save the name for Teddy, but because of Teddy.

Harry looks his orphaned godson in the eyes one day, a year or two after the Battle, and realises how fucked up it was that Remus, despite technically being able to, never visited him. He can’t imagine leaving Teddy all alone like that, in a family he might know doesn’t look favourably upon magic. There’s a chance that Lily may have told Remus about Petunia and Vernon and their bigotry, their hatred. And Remus, for some reason, didn’t come look.

Harry looks that little boy in the eyes and realises how weird it was that Remus didn’t admit to having been the best of friends with James Potter until late into Harry’s third year. Harry can’t fathom that, if Teddy was Ron and Hermione’s kid and both Ron and Hermione died, he’d be able to talk to the spitting image of Ron with Hermione’s eyes (but starved, intense, broken, thirteen years old and remembering his parents’ murders) and not say, “Your parents were my best friends. Let me tell you about them; let me tell you all that you want to know.”

Harry figures he’d move mountains to keep Teddy safe and happy. Harry figures that Sirius would’ve done the same, considering he mustered up the strength to break out of Azkaban after twelve years and swim to Britain to ensure Harry’s safety at the smallest sign of danger. Sirius lived in a cave and ate rats for Harry with dementors breathing down his back: Harry knows with utmost certainty that, if Sirius had had the freedom to do so, he would’ve burnt the country down for Harry.

Remus didn’t do that for him, wouldn’t have, be it for a lack of freedom or a lack of want. Remus was ‘Lupin’ to Harry even in death, even after being named godfather to his son. Harry had to convince thirty-seven year old Remus to stay with his pregnant wife at seventeen. Harry got blown into a wall for his efforts, was given the honour of becoming godfather months later. Harry liked Remus, still loves him even, but there’s nothing Harry wouldn’t do for Teddy and there was very little Remus did for Harry, and there’s that.

Later, Harry doesn’t even suggest naming a child after Remus. Ginny doesn’t even ask. None of their children are named after Remus, because Harry is a man who is quick to anger when it’s about innocents, a man whose forgiveness only goes so far. He’s never been truly bothered by his own situation, but he’s bothered by the mere idea of Teddy ending up in a similar one and him doing nothing.

Remus did nothing. That’s the crux of it. That’s why.

(After Lily Luna is born, Teddy asks if ‘Luna’ is for his dad. Harry looks at Ginny, and Ginny looks at him, and Harry does what Remus taught him: he swallows his apprehension and lies.

“Yes,” he says, raking his fingers through Teddy’s fluffy, turquoise hair. He thinks he’ll raze cities for this child. “But we saved ‘Remus’ for you.”)

[cripplecharacters]

Hi, 

So, I have written expression disorder and dysgraphia, which means this might be a bit rambly or unclear but I’ll try my best to stay on as clear and as brief as I can. 

I’m currently writing a fanfiction for Wynonna Earp as a way to improve my writing skills without needing to stress about it. Background on the show: It’s a supernatural show based around a descendant of Wyatt Earp who was a legal officer in the wild west and got involved in a massive feud. It also has his friend Doc Holliday becoming immortal and being a love interest for the main character. The primary reason I’m doing this is because I dislike how they portrayed Doc Holliday in the series (often outright the opposite of the reality) and also because they just left out the fact he was disabled completely. Due to a gunshot wound when he was fairly young, probably along with weakness due to having tuberculosis for most of his adult life, which did eventually kill him, he used a cane part time. He also had a cleft lip and palate that was surgically corrected and he got surgery for it as an infant and had speech therapy, which doesn’t really seem to have impacted his adult life much in what I’m writing.

 I do have chronic pain due to an injury which was pretty bad when I was younger, so having a character who’s portrayed as dealing with that and continuing to be brave and selfless would have meant the whole world to me at that point in my life and still will. But as I was doing research I ran into a few things I knew very little about. 

My own disabilities are invisible, which means that I don’t have much experience with how people respond to seeing mobility aids. It would be interesting to show people’s responses, especially since he pretty famously took offense easily and didn’t leave things alone. There’s a fun scene there but I’m not sure what a common response to set it off would be. The biggest problem I have, that I haven’t been able to find a lot about: according to a medical article I read even when it’s cured people who had tuberculosis typically have some lung damage. I haven’t been able to find a lot on how that would impact someone day to day. He was cured of it magically but the idea of there still being damage makes sense based on the in universe rules and also someone being magically cured is generally considered not good. So how would it impact someone on a daily basis?

There’s some things in the research I did that make me think he was autistic (namely literal thinking to the point where he almost killed someone due to not understanding that a duel was meant to be a joke as a teen). Or maybe I’m just projecting because I am. Any ideas for how somebody who grew up in a time where nuerodivergence just wasn’t known would accommodate himself and be helped by friends? How would they understand it at that time?

How in general do friends respond to disabilities and try to help now?

There’s a few other things but they’re mainly just me being a beginner writer who doesn’t honestly. Thank you so much for reading through this even if you don’t end up responding!

[part 2] clarification: I meant the cleft palate wouldn't come up in what I'm writing because he's an adult and it didn't seem to have huge bearing on his adult life. I'm so sorry I left out part of that sentence in my ask bc I have a learning disability! didn't mean to! I'm so sorry and thank you again!

Hello!

People respond in many ways. In the modern west a lot of it involves random strangers being intrusive as shit ("what happened to you??") but in historical times I think it would be more of avoidance, especially if he has visible symptoms of tuberculosis. People still think that "visibly disabled person coughing = plague". If you're going for historical accuracy, it wouldn't really surprise me if strangers didn't want to sit next to him.

Long tuberculosis (affecting 25% of those who had TB) seems to be very similar to COPD, so the main day-to-day effect would probably be fatigue, being out of breath after physical exertion, etc. COPD is an incredibly common disability so you should be able to find a lot of info about it and how it can be managed.

Friends will also respond in many ways, and it also depends a lot on the disabled person. This guy sounds like the "hyper-independent physically disabled man" type and in my experience most of them don't talk about their needs much, especially not with the boys. In this case the accommodation is often just silently agreed on after spending some time together (e.g., after a few times going out they can see how annoyed he gets when they suddenly change plans so they learn to tell him as soon as they know, if he drops something they pick it up for him without saying anything since they know it's tiring for him to get up, etc.). If they know him well enough to know he takes offense easily they probably wouldn't bring up his inability to do something to not upset him and try to work around it instead.

I don't have enough historical knowledge to answer the second question, so I'll leave it to other mods. But I think it'd make sense if they just thought he was eccentric or weird rather than having a medical condition.

Hope this helps,

mod Sasza

Hello, thank you for your ask! In regards to the second question, it would depend on his symptoms, how well/if he could mask, and how other people view(ed) him.

I'm assuming he's level 1 / low support needs, as you don't mention him having a caretaker or difficulty doing tasks. Some of the examples include specific autistic traits that he may or may not have/used to have, they're mostly there to be examples. These are also assuming you're writing him as an adult only, if you want some info on how it would be like growing up during this time let us know!

Without good knowledge of autism, most people would think he's very strange if he cannot [fully] mask. Flat affect, lack of social understanding and other symptoms would make most allistic people uncomfortable, with responses ranging from thinking he's just weird [and would want to avoid him] to believing he's angry at them specifically [and would either want to avoid him or get aggressive themselves]. Most people will probably just see it as character quirks rather than symptoms of anything, or even think he's choosing to act the way he does. His friends would most likely be other neurodivergent people who either experience the same symptoms or don't have enough of a social understanding to realize he's not acting 'correctly' if he doesn't mask.

Unless his friends/family experience similar symptoms to him, they probably wouldn't understand why he does/reacts the way he does. This isn't to say they wouldn't try to accommodate him still, that moreso depends on the individual, but those who don't understand might try to push him to 'get over it' more than someone who gets it. Like Sasza said, over time his friends would be able to accommodate him by noticing what makes him upset/happy and how to help. 'Doc likes to keep his hands busy so I gave him my butterfly knife to spin' or ' the yelling in the hall was bothering him so I asked if he wanted to go to outside with me' could be ways of accommodating him without realizing, basically seeing his symptoms and trying to find an easy solution to help, wether or not they understand them. They could also give him unhelpful solutions while trying to accommodate, which would probably just further stress Doc if given in a stressful situation. Essentially unless he knows what helps and tells them it would be a guessing game for them [if he does that or his friend[s] respect it depends on them]. Try to think of his symptoms and what might be available at the time to help [like stim toys didn't exist back then but butterfly knives did, and ear defenders weren't a thing but he could walk away if needed].

As to how he'd accommodate himself, he wouldn't know words like 'stim' or 'overstimulated,' but if he doesn't care about/understand social norms he would be more likley to 'move in odd ways' or exit an upsetting area. A more socially conscious person might try to hide it, like using small tactile stims [i.e. rubbing a cloth or tapping his foot] or making excuses to leave an upsetting area. He might also be able to mask and try to just bear it, only unmasking around friends or in private.

Also the wiki said he was born in 1851 but died in 2020, and although autism would be named during his lifetime I'm not sure he would identify with it. The first medical documentation of autism was in 1877, and at the time it was called developmental [r-slur]. I doubt he'd want to identify with that, and even later on autism was only ever studied in children, and of course was not thought of well. It was thought to be caused by cold parenting or a form of psychosis/schizophrenia exclusive to children in the early to mid 1900's. For many, many years the only idea of autism he'd have would essentially be that. Because most studies at the time thought autism could be 'grown out of' [with exception to higher support needs people] he'd have lived most of his life at that point believing it was a child only disease. Even if he hadn't heard about autism until the late 1900's-early 2000's, it was still thought of as a stigmatized childhood disease by the public until recently [even by people today, hence the blog's existence]. If he's the type of character to be less set in his opinions at an old age then maybe later he could read on modern autism and identify with it, but I find older people tend to prefer dismissing disability for the sake of avoiding any change.

I hope this was at all helpful!

Mod Rot

[informaturge]

1 - Keziah had a pretty good idea of which way the wind was blowing the moment Bellara popped out of the bushes with the big eyes and the magitech gauntlet and the absent-minded smart girl vibes. I imagine a silent "oh god dammit" in her head.

2- I have no idea. I am not privy to the inner workings of her mind. Keziah remains mind-boggled that it happened at all.

3 - I think that up until the whole "Rook is trapped in a ghost prison" thing there was a mutual "I like you but we don't have time for this right now" thing going on, but afterward it flipped to "on second thought we might not have time for this later".

4 - Keziah is Mourn Watch. Bellara is a Veil Jumper. They both dig up ancient hazards and put a stop to them. The only real difference is whose closet the skeletons are pouring out of. And how literal the skeletons are.

5 - I mean technically they're both elves, but Bellara is more aware and immersed in elf... stuff, whereas Keziah was basically raised to be a self-aiming gun by ghosts and gravedigger priests. I think they find each other's accumulated knowledge and experiences fascinating.

6 - Something the two of them have in common is a love of learning stuff. I think a lot of their relationship revolves around sharing hyperfixations. Does Keziah know what a manalytic converter is for? No. But Bellara does, and as such it's obviously important, so if she sees one she'll be sure to point it out. Is Bellara wary of Keziah's extensive collection of weird bones and scarification implements? I mean, a bit, but only because some of them are very delicate and others are very sharp. Doesn't mean that they don't talk for hours about the metallurgy of good knife steel.

7 - Bellara is easily flustered and Keziah isn't good at portraying emotions so I think it takes a while before they figure each other out, but once they do there's probably a lot of publoc hand-holding and sitting in laps. Anything more than that isn't really my area of expertise.

8 - I imagine they're known by name by the staff of any decent museum.

9 - I had her on my team for most of the game. And in my head their combat banter mostly revolves around their different approaches to fighting, Bel having all this elaborate mobility and tactical stuff going on with firing angles and magic arrows, in stark contrast to Kez whose entire combat strategy is abusing life-steal and burning health for mana to direct a continuous firehose necromantic laser death ray at anything in her way.

10 - I mean, Keziah shortens it to "Bel" and Rook is already a nickname, but other than that, not really.

11 - Keziah said "Huh. I think I might love you." at the dinner table during a particularly animated group conversation, but her one milky eye makes it hard to tell what she's looking at so everyone assumed she was talking to the cutlery.

12 - "Shut up I'm a genius." Spoken immediately after doing something stupid.

13 - All of my music is horrible crunchy electronic brutalism. Not nearly optimistic enough to associate with Bellara.

14 - I'm pretty sure they bring each other weird shit they find on the ground CONSTANTLY.

15 - Bellara built a god-killing knife out of magic radioactive waste to try and cut a hole in the fabric of reality and drag her love interest out of ghost prison. If nothing else, she was definitely thinking like Keziah to come up with that one.

16 - Keziah knew she'd get out eventually. Even if she had to tear a hole through the Fade's bones with her teeth. The idea that somewhere out there Bellara wasn't smiling and writing her stories was more than enough fuel to burn the place down.

17 - Keziah loves that Bellara will decide she wants to do something and just put her whole ass into it until she has it figured out. Bellara loves Keziah's seemingly unconscious habit of looking at every situation from multiple (sometimes contradictory) perspectives to make sure she knows what's actually going on.

18 - All anyone will know is that the beloved fictionalized serials of their adventures will end with a "to be continued".

Questions for your Rook and their partner:

Does your Rook fall for their partner at first sight? If not, what moment made your Rook realize they're in love with them?

When does the partner realize that they're in love with Rook?

How long does it take for them to officially get together? Did any of the other Lighthouse members have any suspicions beforehand?

Do your Rook and their partner share the same faction? If so, does that affect their relationship at all? If not, what is your Rook's opinion of their partner's faction? What is the partner's opinion of Rook's faction?

Do they have different cultural backgrounds (e.g. a Rook who was raised in Antiva with Harding who was raised in Ferelden)? If so, do they ever share parts of their culture with each other? If they're similar, how do they celebrate their culture together?

What is their favorite thing to do together? Do they share any hobbies? Does your Rook teach their partner their own hobbies? Does the partner teach Rook theirs?

Are they a physically affectionate couple? Are they fine displaying those affections in public or do they prefer to be in private? If they're not, how do they prefer to show their love instead?

What does their ideal date look like? Do they go on much?

Does your Rook bring them out often? How are they like on the battlefield? Do they banter much?

Do they have any nicknames for each other? Who uses terms of endearment more?

Who says "I love you" first? What is the other's reaction? Who thinks it first?

Any inside jokes?

What song(s) do you associate with them?

Does your Rook get their partner any other gifts (besides the one already in-game)? Does the partner get Rook any? Any gifts that are particularly special?

What was the partner's reaction to Rook being imprisoned in the Fade? How did they cope? How did they react upon seeing Rook again?

How did your Rook react to getting trapped in the Fade and separated from their partner?

What is your Rook's favorite thing about their partner? What is the partner's favorite thing about Rook?

When all is said and done, where would they like to retire together? Is marriage in the cards for them? Children? Pets?

[hannamoon143]

You drew stars around my scars ✮⋆˙

Life is hard. Some people don't know how to cope with that. Some people just try to feel mentally better by causing physical pain instead. How ironical, isn't it? Oh but bless you, that lee felix is in your life. Because this man never misses a thing.⋆｡°✩

Genre:Angst,Hurt/comfort

Warnings:Sh,a bit childhood trauma, Depression, Crying, mentions of food,mentions of bad eating habits

Lee felix x fem.Reader

Words: 3,9k

a/n: hey everyone<33 To write this fic brought me some comfort too, and it's healing me a bit more everytime i can use my own experiences,emotions and thoughts to write something that comforts others too, and relate to y/n a lot. And i know i'm not the only one, so i hope this can bring everyone that reads it a bit comfort. And pls always remember what of a beautiful person you are. Hurting yourself is never ever the only solution. If you need someone to talk, reach out to someone, anyone, also me if you don't have anyone. I'd rather have literally any person cry for hours in my arms, or vent to me in my dm's than have them hurt their own bodies, that always supports them. Everything felix says in that fic is true, and they r my own thoughts about this. I love you all, take care of yourselves.<3

Depression takes a lot from you. It takes your motivation, productivity, the will to socialize, and your happiness. It’s unfair isn’t it? Little, happy children become tired, broken adults.

People always think depression is something where you sit in your bed the whole day and cry. Well that is half true. Yes, there are days like that, but that’s far not everything. The worst are those dull days, when you feel entirely numb, but your life has to go on anyways. No joy in your heart, and no tears in your eyes. Just a big nothing in your mind.

After a while you figure it out though. It’s always those numb episodes, until every emotion you thought didn’t exist the days before, crashes down on you. And it’s overwhelming. Every.single.time.

But what if you’d find something that could ‚help�� you? Something that brought you pain and relief at the same time? That made you feel alive, in the numb episodes and distracted you from the pain in the days where you broke down? The price was just your beautiful skin, and blood...

A problem was though, once you’d start, it would be very hard to stop again. But why should you anyways? Why should you stop when it was the only thing seemingly bringing you comfort for some short time?

It started off by you, picking at your skin absimendtly whenever you felt anxious, or when you just didn’t pay attention. It felt relieving. It was the burning pain when you scatched on your skin so hard it was slightly bloody, making you feel like your feelings actually mattered. And then that one night. That night everything crashed down on you. Your friends wanted nothing to do with you anymore, the few you had before, cut contact. You couldn’t even be mad at them. Who wouldn’t be annoyed by someone who constantly cancelled plans, and gave off a „depressing, annoying attitude“? Well these were their words. Oh but you saw it coming. All the overthinking in the middle of the night, those worst case scenarios, they had come true.

And your family? You never had a healthy relationship with them. So now, that you were grown up, the contact was almost entirely dead. And yeah, there was your boyfriend felix, but you’d never burden him with your problems. He already had enough on his mind with the world tour and all the new released albums, of the band he was in.

And that was it. No one there that you could reach out to, no one to comfort you, when your heart and mind were breaking into millions of glass splitters. Every person reaches their breaking point someday. And that day was yours. You remembered the night clearly. You were sitting on the bathroom floor, crying out all the emotion you had been holding in for too long. You had no friends anymore. No family. And pretty sure soon no boyfriend too. Nothing to hold onto.

Then you reached out to a drawer. You didn’t really register what you were doing as you took it out. A simple, silver blade. A little cut on your wrist. A line of crimson red blood on your skin.

At first you were terrified. What had you done? Why weren’t you affected by the stinging pain on your wrist, and the blood building in the small cut? Why did it in fact feel good? And then you decided to try it again, just to answer those questions right?

That’s where it started.

You knew you had depression. But going to a therapist? You were scared, probably too lazy, and you could never tell all your problems to a complete stranger. And most of all you didn’t want felix to worry either. He was the only one left, and soon he would surely leave too. He was the sweetest, sunny person on this earth, he deserved someone that matched his energy, and wasn’t so… hard to love.

Every single task felt like a hard, impossible chore. Getting out of your bed felt like doing the unbelievable. Doing the most simple things like showering, or brushing your teeth seemed so far away, that you could only master them on your best days. Some days, you went to work, did everything you had to, with a straight, stoic face. That was until you came home, laid into your bed, and silent tears would build wet spots on your pillow.

But somedays, even crying seemed too overwhelming. All you could do was lay in your dark room, staring at the wall. It was just the darkness and you, and somewhere in your mind, a voice whispering that it would help to cut...

And then there were these rare days, on which you felt almost too overwhelmed. It were those days you came home, and added another scar to the gallery of them on your arms. You questioned your life on these days. Because truly, you didn’t see a reason why you should be here right now. No, you weren’t proud of it. But who was there to stop you? Why should you quit if it was the only thing keeping you sane right now? When it was only the stinging pain who could make you slip out of the monotone haze in your mind, for at least a little bit time.

But it would be stupid to assume felix didn’t notice something was off. Lee felix was a pure person. Someone who could make even the rainiest days shine bright. And he cared about the people he loved more than anything else.

When you started cancelling plans it was already alarming for him. You were someone who never cancelled plans with him. You were usually a happy person, someone who made jokes that were actually funny. Someone who made him laugh with your little quirks, that he noticed over time. Someone who comforted him when he felt bad. And most of all you were the most excited person when you two would meet up. You never missed to tell him how much you loved him, that he was your happy person, and your comfort person.

That was before

Before suddenly everything stopped. He rarely got to see your beautiful face now anymore. You took a long time to respond to his texts, and when you did, they were short, and dry. This didn’t feel like you. Felix knew you. And that wasn’t you. This wasn’t the happy girl he met. And he surely wasn’t planning on letting things go like this forever. Something wasn’t right. And no matter what you said or did, to try and get away from him, and shut everything out, he would stay by your side. He would find out what was wrong and do everything possible in this world to make you feel like yourself again.

It was another day today. Another number on the calendar. You stopped looking at it. It didn’t matter anyways. Those were just numbers on paper, and they would never change anything. So you dragged yourself out of bed, feeling even heavier than usual. Like a zombie you just quickly got dressed, not even registering what you were wearing, and drank a mug of coffee. It would make you feel a bit more awake for at least a few hours. Eating breakfast had become impossible in the last few weeks. You were barely eating anything the whole day, to be honest. Sometimes, you just couldn’t stand up and make yourself something. But most times, you just didn’t feel hungry.

You went your usual way to work. At the bus, you took a short glance at your phone. You used to be on your phone a lot for the silliest things, but now you hated it. You hated the brightness, and that everytime you looked at it you had to interact with others. And the worst was, it remdinded you of what you had lost. The spark you had in your eyes on photos from a long time ago.

Something popped up on the screen

A message from felix. Of course. He messaged you every single day. You couldn’t ignore him, no matter how shitty felt, you couldn’t bring yourself to ignore him. So you opened it.

Hey sunshine<3How are you today? I thought of maybe grabbing some takeout and watching a movie together tonight, since i have off early! I’ll even let you pick one of those cheesy romcoms you love so much. Love u^^

You sighed. He was still so sweet, so caring, when he should be really annoyed, right? His girlfriend was a walking zombie, why didn’t he already break up with you?

Hey lix, sorry no time today.

Then you quickly put your phone away. You couldn���t stand thinking of his lips turning into that sad pout, when he’d read your answer. But you couldn’t meet him. You didn’t care how stubborn that was, but you wouldn’t let him see you like this. He would see right through you, and get you to tell him what was wrong.

You stopped making excuses someday. Who even cared? Sooner or later he’d leave, just like your friends. No lame excuses would matter then. Someone like you was unlovable. And that would never change.

As felix read your response he sighed.

That was enough. He wouldn’t let your relationship carry on like that. He wouldn’t let you carry on like that. Something was clearly wrong and he wouldn’t stand so far away and watch you slowly shut down from the entire world. Not anymore. Tonight he would come to your apartment, if you wanted to or not.

You didn’t remember what you did throughout the day. When you tried to recall it, there were only hazy memories, covered in a grey, thick fog. You didn’t even remember how you came home. Everything just happened. Now, you were walking through your apartment door, kicking off your shoes and coat. With a deep sigh, you dragged yourself to the bathroom. You shut the door, immediately sinking down on the floor. You were exhausted. More than that. The past days, or maybe even weeks you had held everything in more than usual. You felt like passing out right then and there, on the cold bathroom tiles. But there was something else. You knew that feeling. When you would have spent too many days in numbness, then at one point, every emotion, everything you thought wasn’t there before, creeps up in your throat from the depths of your soul. You feel the grieve, the sadness, the anger, the guilt, every single emotion crashing down on you at once. And then you can’t stop it anymore.

Tears started to well up in your eyes, and you pulled your knees up for a bit comfort.

These were the moment you hated the most, besides the numbness. Being numb is uneblievably tiring, but when all the feelings, everything comes up at once, that is even worse. You never knew how to deal with your emotions well. When you were a kid you never got the chance to express emotions. Crying was not allowed. If you did, you’d hear „ Stop it, or i’ll give you a reason to cry.“ If you screamed or hit out of anger you’d get punished in some way. Only a polite smile was, what was allowed to show on the outside, what to show to other people. That was probably part of the reason why you’d grown into a person who had these unhealthy, shitty habits, instead of expressing and coping with their emotions well.

You knew you should just let it pass. Endure these feelings. Maybe text someone to try and distract yourself. But somehow, you always went back to drowning out emotions with physical pain. You took the sharp blade from the bathroom drawer, your hands going unbelievable shaky like they always did when you took it out. You only started to cry more. You hated that you did it. You hated that you were a person that couldn’t handle their own feelings like a responsible adult, and had to shut them out with self harming instead. And still you did it again and again. You hated the way your arm looked when you put your sleeve up now. White lines from old cvts. Slightly reddish ones from some that happened some time ago. And those brightred ones. Reminders of not too long ago. They made you so angry. Reminding you of who you were. Of what you were.

So you decided to look away. You just put the blade to your wrist, looking at the blank bathroom wall. It was already so familiar, you knew where it would hurt the most without even looking.

Felix was searching around his apartment for that gray hoodie you wanted to have everytime you saw him wearing it. Maybe it would cheer you a bit up. As he finally found it, he grabbed the brownies he had made for you earlier, and his keys, heading out his apartment, to head to yours instead.

He started his car. It was a short drive so there was not much time for thinking. But there were some thoughts in the back of his head. Wasn’t he overstepping? You clearly didn’t want to see him, maybe you were also just annoyed?

But felix shook those voices off. He knew you. He had known you for years, and this wasn’t you. He had to do this.

And then he was already at your apartment. Slowly he got out of the car, taking the things, and started to walk up the stairs.

Soon he was in front of your door. Should he knock? He knew where your spare key was but he didn’t want to be respectless. So he softly knocked on the door.

„Y/n? It’s me, felix. I know you didn’t want to meet, but… i was worried. Can we talk please, my love?“

He waited for a minute. But there was no answer. Maybe you really weren’t at home? He decided to just try it. To his surprises the door was unlocked. That meant you were home, but also why would you let your door stay unlocked? He sighed, and locked it from the inside. He quietly took off his shoes, and put them on the side. Yours were scattered messily on the floor, and your coat too. Usually you hated when something in your apartment wasn’t organized. Maybe you were in a hurry before. He went into the kitchen, wich was dark, putting the brownies on the counter. „Y/n?“ he softly called out again. Still no answer.

But there, suddenly he heard something. A quiet, mumbling or...crying? His brows furrowed and he tried to follow the sound. There. In the bathroom. It seemed like you didn’t hear him calling you. At first he considered just going back to your kitchen and waiting there for you to come out, but when he heard another deep sob from you, he knew what to do. Whatever was going on right now, he wanted to be by your side. So he took a deep breath and opened the door.

„Y/N, what is g-“ His eyes widened in shock, and your head perked up immediately at the door clicking open, your gaze changing from surprise, to confusion, to somewhat realization and guilt. The sight in front of him horrified him. His beautiful, lovely girlfriend sat on the bathroom floor, her face red and puffy from crying, and a sharp blade in her hand. And your arm… How couldn’t he notice? He just stood there, in the door, staring at you.

You couldn’t read his face. Was he mad…? Of course he’d be mad. You quickly reacted as you got to your senses again. You jumped up, letting the blade fall, and a drop of blood dropping down on your white bathroom tiles.

„Felix…. I can explain, i h-haven’t, it’s not what it looks like o-okay? I’m okay, p-please i know you’re mad but-“

You got cut off. You couldnt’t even say anything more, because suddenly you were wrapped up tightly in your boyfriend’s comforting, warm embrace. You forgot how good a hug from him felt… And when you got a little glance at his face that was it. No anger, no twisted kind of any emotion against you. There was pure sympathy and love. When you also saw a tear rolling down his face, you couldn’t take it anymore. You buried your face in his neck, and let go. You sobbed uncontrollably, your arms and legs trembling so much, to the point your knees gave in, and felix slowly sank to the ground with you. Why did the cvts on your arms suddenly really hurt for the first time? He had you pulled on his lap, rocking you back and forth, stroking your hair gently. „Shhh, it’ll be alright. I’m here now, you are not alone.“

Good thirty minutes later, your sobbing had stopped, and only warm paths of tears remained on your cheeks. Felix lifted your head from his neck a bit, so he could look into your eyes. Though you had just cried your heart out, it was still the most mesmerizing pair of eyes he had seen in his life. He gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

„Let me treat those, okay?“ He simply said, glancing at your cuts.

He was gentle. He desinfected every single cut, apologizing every time you hissed at the sharp pain. Then he put some healing ointment on your fresh ones, and some at your older ones too. Then, with gentle, calm hands he bandaged your arms. He ended his treament with featherlight kisses on them. Then he got up, helping you up too. He had his hands on your side, his eyes on your face.

„Love…I won’t ever judge you, or get mad at you for anything, i hope you know that okay? I know that this is probably your way to cope with things, and i know that you know it’s not healthy. But it’s okay. Please just promise me, you will come to me instead of doing that, from now on hm? Everytime you want to do it you call me, text me, whatever. I’d rather have you crying in my arms for hours, venting to me for hours, you screaming at me, or do whatever you need to, than have you hurt and bleeding entirely alone on the floor. I’ll come over, and do whatever i need to, to cheer you up alright? And don’t shut me out from your life. I want to be a part again. I miss the way you’d text me when you see something that makes you smile. Or when you send me pics of the cute cats you saw on the sidewalk. Or when you just simply tell me about your day. And most important of all, i’ll stay by your side okay? No matter what. I will do everything to help you recover, and build up your life in a way that makes you happy okay? Let me help you sunshine. You don’t need to do it all alone.No matter how hard it in the past was, I’m here now, and I don’t plan on leaving soon.“

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time you smiled at him. „Okay lixie. Okay. I’ll try.“

Then he softly smiled at you, and guided you to your livingroom, where he made you sit on the couch. He rushed off to the kitchen, and was soon back again with a plate of brownies and his gray hoodie. „It seems like you didn’t eat much lately, you’ve been getting a bit too skinny, love. But don’t worry, now i’m here to feed you with everything you want to eat. You don’t need to move a single finger.“ He mumbled, as he first handed you the hoodie, wich you put on immediately and snuggled into it. It had always been your comfort hoodie, since it was big, fluffy, and always smelled like him a lot. Then he put down the plate in front of you. Felix’ brownies had always been one of your favorite things. They were delicious like no one else’s.Everytime you asked him what he was throwing in there, he always told you that it was his love and care wich he made them with. You believed him, this man made everything better with his sunny personality.

You simply smiled at him, and took one of the brownies, taking a big bite

„That’s my girl.“ He chuckled, ruffling your hair. As you were munching, and he was watching you with a fond smile, he suddenly asked „Do you have a marker somewhere here?“ You looked up, raising a brow. „Yeah, in the drawer over there i guess, why?“ He just stood up, and opened said drawer, taking the marker. He was back by your side in an instant. „Please give me one arm love“ He said, politely like always. You were still pretty confused but how could you say no to that? So you slowly laid your bandaged arm in his hands. He kissed it once and then softly started to draw on it. „What are you doing?“ you asked, mouth full of brownie.

„Those my love, are battle scars. It isn’t beautiful how you got them, but they are a part of you now, and they make you the person you are. They deserve to be called beautiful now too, like every single body part of yours. I love every part of you. And when they are healed, I’ll kiss each and everyone of them, but for now, they deserve to be treated with care. They will only heal properly, if you let them. If you’d always be angry when you’d look at them, they would never really heal. You would never really heal. You need to forgive yourself, and someday you will be able to move on. They show how far you’ve come, that it was very hard, but you never gave up. Battle scars, my love.“

You looked into his eyes. He said all that so sincere, you believed every word. And then as he was done you saw what he did. A lot of little stars, and a pretty moon in the middle were drawn on the bandages. And next to the moon he wrote a little note

„Because i want you to never forget who you are. You are Y/n L/n, a fighter, and the most beautiful woman i know.“

„How did i deserve you lee felix?“ You murmured in awe.

„You deserve the world, and more my love.“

And that really was a turning point. Thanks to felix, your days weren’t dull anymore. He was always there with you, laughing and talking a lot, but he also respected when you wanted some alone time. And when you came to him somedays, crying and telling him that you wanted to do it again, he took you in his arms, wrapped you both into a blanket and rocked you back and forth, until no tears were left anymore, and the world seemed a bit brighter again. Then he mumbled soothing reassurances into your hair, kissing you on the forehead.

And like this, you were willing to try. You were willing to try and recover, and create a life that you loved living, with him in it.

a/n: now a note to: @athenawindwolf because I didn't have the courage to say it that night ( we ignore that i'm writing this while you are texting me,still in that night), i'll be your chan friend, and in the context of this fanfic your felix friend, whenever you need me. I hope yk, I never judge anyone, and i've been through a lot too so rlly i would never ever judge or tell anyone if you tell me smth. We said we r the big sisters of our friends now, so that means we r sisters right? Come to me whenever you need to talk. Now this was for u, and I also have to say i'm thankful someone is sharing one of my interests now<3 Ily di angelo.@athenawindwolf (and i hope i didn't make you cry with this fic)

[funnier-as-a-system]

Hey, um... This ain't exactly.. An easy thing to say but, uh..

.._I SCARED OFF MY HEADMATES._

I JUST REFERRED TO THEM AS "THE VOICES" BECAUSE. WELL. I DIDN'T KNOW SHIT ABOUT THIS STUFF THEN!! AND ALWAYS DISREGARDED THEM WHENEVER THEY SPOKE [THEY ARGUES A WHOLE LOT. LITERALLY COULDN'T DO ANY WORK FROM THE SOUNDS OF 0NI, D AND COMPLEXITY ARGUING ALL THE TIME-]

Ok.. Calm calm.....

So. I never ever listened to them and sometimes also arguing with them tried my best to ignore them.. Yelling "SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP" repeatedly usually got them to... Well, _shut up._

But just. We had another argument together. After _STARSCREAM_[don't even ask me how she got in here I don't fucking know] decided to act all mighty and shit another yelling match started that I just.. Couldn't take it anymore.. I had some.. Uhm, "quite the words" to say the least. They silenced for the day after that..

And then the next morning they just.. Weren't there when I woke up. At first I was, well, glad! It was finally quite for once! I could do things that normal people did! But uh.. After the second day it was far too quiet for my liking.. And.. It's been a month now. It's still too quiet.. Starscream[why HIM instead of others I have no idea] came back for 20 minutes a week ago.. I was glad to have at least SOMEONE back but she went away again..

I learned about this whole "system" stuff thanks to a follower saying "oh this is such a funny post as a system!" on a reblog I've done. --Which led me here. I've been... _Learning_ the past few days.. And. Well. Things really do fit me well and.. I'm not sure if I hate that or not...

I.. The reason for this _ask_ is because.. I wanted to know if others had this.. Well, "_experience_" too? Like.. I.. I miss them, alright? It suddenly went from 7 to 1 in here and it's far too quiete!!! I just.. I wanted to know if there was possibly a way to bring them back..?

I understand if this isn't the way to go for this typa stuff but... I.. I really don't know _where else_ there is.

Welp. Thanks for.. Having this account and all I suppose. Were a real help in things and, the posts are quite funny as well..! [Sigh..]

- @blog-bites-eats-u-violently

Hey, there. It sounds like you've been having a rough time lately. You have my sympathies for that. I won't give too much advice on this situation you're in – I don't feel equipped to do that – but you're not alone in this experience, anon. We went through a very similar situation a few years back, actually.

At the time, we'd just recently made our then-host (as in, the headmate who was our host at the time) aware that they had others in their head, that they were part of a system. We had... a rough few months after that, filled with fear and doubt. And at one point, our then-host became overwhelmed, and ended up driving away the headmates who were talking to them.

The silence lasted for about two days before another headmate of ours stepped up to talk to our then-host, helping them work through their issues and reconnect with those they'd run off. From what they can remember of the event, it was mostly a matter of mentally "reaching out" – consciously trying to connect to the ones they'd driven off so they could apologize. None of us are sure how it worked – best we've got is that we've always visualized our communication difficulties as walls that we have to get our internal communication/messages past – but it did, and we're all chill now on that front.

So, yes, others have had this experience before, and your headmates will likely come back to talk to you again. I can't promise anything, but if my-our story is anything to go off of, even situations like this can be recoverable. It just may take a while for all the hurt to be worked out.

[givekennyabreak]

Already being in a relationship with Jade and arriving in Fromville would include (GN!reader):

Request: "Very politely asking what my chances are of getting a Jade Herrera x reader with an age gap… them already being a couple when they arrive in the town.. just what that would be like🫶🏻"

Rating: M, because it's Fromville. Nothing explicit, tho

Warnings: spoilers for season 1, age gap (Jade is in his early forties, reader is mid/late twenties), canon compliant violence, fluff?, s1 Jade being a menace, blood mentions, death mentions.

Jade is naturally protective, even if he doesnt show it well - e.g. literally telling you not to die, instead of asking you to be safe

When he started dating you, he dialed it up a notch - holding your hand to cross the street, making sure you're in the opposite side of traffic when walking on the curb and he's glued to your side, even sipping/tasting your food or drink to see if it's safe 🤡

He says young people are more accident prone.

He's like a mother hen, but in a sarcastic way

He shows his love very clearly, though. He's affectionate, literally won't stop running his mouth when he starts to talk about you, brings you gifts just because he saw a random thing that reminded him of you

Brings back lingerie sets more than once

After selling his company, you both go on that trip with Tobey. While he's high outta his ass, you stay sober to make sure he won't do anything stupid

When the car crashes, you're so fucking dizzy, you end up plopping down on the middle of the road. You keep looking for Jade and Tobey, but this pretty man that calls himself the sheriff helps you up and tells you to stay put

You stay with Jade throughout the whole ordeal, not wanting to leave his side - and scared that something will happen to Tobey while you're with him. You cannot watch him die because he was driving while high

The first night was a blur - running up to colony house, seeing the creepy people outside, carrying Jade's limp body into the house

Warding off the cute chick who kept staring at him rip trudy

You ignore the whispers and voices outside, trying to lure you out. The way the people in the house guard every door and window show that this is not a situation you should meddle with

They've been here longer. They know better, even if this story is hard to believe

You stay beside Jade throughout the night, and the next morning, you head to the diner together - stopping him from stealing that poor woman's bike

You tell him about what happened, but he doesn't believe you

"Come on, it must be some elaborate prank. Listen to me, I got more experience"

You kindly tell him to fuck off.

You both eat in silence - you, seething, and him, having the time of his life. He thinks he's in some kind of elaborate escape room, and honestly, you don't have the energy to shake him and try to reason with him, so you leave him to his devices

It's not long before he's coming after you, like some lovesick puppy, clinging to your back and apologizing.

Role reversal, perhaps.

So he finally understood what happened.

You both chose the town, as per Boyd's peer pressure for Jade to pick one - and because you don't trust a place with that many people inside to keep you safe.

You share a room with Jade, and Tian-Chen glances between you two the first time she connects the dots about your relationship

"Young and pretty? With him?"

Kenny apologizes profusely, but you just grin at her. Bless her sweet soul - Jade finally has someone up to par with his personality

The people in town are used to stranger things than an age gap relationship, so they don't even bat an eye at that.

The both of you end up visiting Tobey's grave more often than not, telling him your discoveries and ordinary things you do during the day

You're not glued to Jade, so each of you do your own things

You help Tian-Chen at the diner, and Jade annoys Jim and Tabitha

At some point, Jim comments on your relationship, and it takes all your mighty patience to not bark at him to shut his trap

But Tabitha puts him in his place, saying you're both fully mature adults who are in a consensual relationship

That night, when you go to bed, Jade actually crawls up beside you, looking up at you with those big peepers of his

"D'you wish I was younger, sometimes?"

That breaks your fucking heart.

Because, as much as Jade is smart, and snarky, and loving, and caring... He can be insecure as well

"Do you wish I was older?" You ask, and he blinks.

Then, he shakes his head, a soft "no" leaving his lips.

"Then I don't wish you were younger, either. We've both been tough a lot, and I know it seems unfair sometimes, but our relationship is built on us being equals."

Jade has never made you feel inferior or insecure about being so much younger at any point. On the contrary - he always made sure to include you in his decisions, and reassure you were not less than him because of some number

"You have your strong points, you have your weaknesses. So have I. We work well together, complimenting each other."

When he smiles, wrapping his arms around your body, you kiss his - now very - stubbled jaw.

"you're the old to my young." You whisper, and he laughs out loud.

No relationship is easy in Fromville, but somehow, you make it work.

Cuties.

[pingintech]

i relate to this experience in many regards i like to think of myself as an aspiring butch but in honesty i dont think i really super easily fit into femininity or masculinity 100% in either direction most people are often very truly deeply confused about my gender and consequently often seem like they dont know how to deal with me i definitely think my gender expression leans more masculine however and i dont make an effort to pass because im just me i feel i shouldnt need to conform to an ideal of femininity to be me i think i experience transmisogyny a fair bit but its definitely similarly in places where i expect my identity to be respected where people know what my gender is explicitly mostly work environments distant family members and i know for my part i constantly worry about how people see me or worry that if i make one wrong move everyone around me everyone i allow to get close to me who know who i really am will turn on me and especially because i work in a field where im watching over people younger than me (ages 14-26) in mental and behavioral health it would not be exactly difficult for one of them (or their parents) to make an allegation and suddenly all of those nasty things i suspect people secretly think about trans women being predators would be confirmed even my own kids bio dad once went on a whole rant about how he didnt trust me to raise his kid because i was a scary evil tranny (meanwhile her bio dad is literally a murderer)

frankly i think the way most other trans women discuss transmisogyny is actively a disservice to butch people of any gender cis transmasc or transfemme i think the use of terms like tna have really negatively affected who other trans women think the in group is that needs to be protected

i also dont think its a coincidence that tma as a label often doesnt include trans people who arent out yet or trans ppl with "passing privilege" fundamentally the rhetoric behind that line of thinking is only for the trans women who are being trans women "correctly" and everyone else is clearly exempt from these shared struggles

I only experience transmisogyny within a very narrow set of circumstances.

I'm loud. I'm masculine. I'm fat. I'm muscular.

I'm also a leader. When I speak, my voice is heard. When I speak, my opinion is valued. In my boots and my armor I swagger through the world with my chin up and my shoulders back. In short, people very rarely smell the tranny on me. If they do, they assume I'm a trans man.

In my day to day life I benefit from masculinity.

Transmisogyny happens to feminine transwomen. It happens when they claim their feminine gender. It happens when they step into a feminine role within public society. Transmisogyny happens when you assert your womanhood in a way that the transmisogynist can understand.

Most people don't understand my womanhood.

I don't need most people to understand my womanhood. As I've said elsewhere, it is unreasonable of me to expect a cis person to understand who I am without a lengthy explanation and at least one book. I'll enforce my pronouns all day, but respecting pronouns and recognizing gender are two different things.

I experience transmisogyny only when I need to be recognized as a woman. This, therefore, happens exclusively in queer spaces. It happens behind closed doors. It happens on dating apps. It happens in intimate moments when I let my guard down.

It happens when someone is capable of recognizing me as a woman.

That is not very many people.

Most of the transmisogyny I experience is, in fact, self-inflicted. No one is more aware of the "pervert man trying to invade women's spaces" narrative than I am. No one is more aware of the actual cis men who pretend to be trans butches in order to hit on young lesbians than I am.

In my head, there is a daily war. Desire fights propriety. Pride wars with humilty. Self-defense battles with self-expression. I wrestle with my own recognition of my own womanhood until I'm bloody and exhausted.

Like so many of my sisters, I am Guarded. Selective. Afraid. I must wade through the morass of myself before I can offer my womanhood to someone. Consequently, I have a lot of time to think.

Is intimacy worth it? Is trusting you worth it?

Is it worth it to take my armor off for you? Is it worth it to let you hurt me in a way that is so uniquely painful that the scar will stay with me for the rest of my life?

No. It's usually not.

Do I experience transmisogyny? Yes. But I don't think I experience it in the way most would understand it.

[theconstitutionisgayculture]

After the responses to this election (both before and after the inauguration), I finally made the decision to officially move right (I was "Center-Right" before - I had my "they can't all be bad" rose-tinted glasses on). The left's biggest talking point is how everyone wants them dead and that they must protect themselves from anything they can misidentify as a threat, but it was their threats of violence towards their own family and friends who voted differently (and those who didn't even vote at all) that finally got to me (their abhorrent and creepy treatment of children was/is a huge tipping point as well). They'll say shit like everyone they don't like needs to be isolated, beaten, raped, or straight up killed and then are confused as to why they lost or why the younger generations and minority groups are moving away. I'm almost twenty-two, and it's insane how stupid they think we all are.

I understand why people say that leftism is a mental illness, but I think there's a more literal reality to that. They're all very paranoid, irrational, angry, and depressed, but suggesting they do anything to change that (taking care of themselves or taking responsibility for any of their actions, for instance) gets them to deflect and blame anyone but themselves for how every individual leftists and their party as a whole ended up.

The only thing the left is good at is making less people leftists.

This is the one of the most common things you hear from people who left the Democrats in the last election. Almost word for word. Millions of normal, non-political people all had the same experiences and all came to the same conclusions.

This is what you call a massive cultural shift. And it's glorious to see.