#this year this is gonna be worse or better

[beautifulterriblequeen]

Another auntie weighing in: I highly recommend the subreddit r/menopause. It's filled with women ages 20 to 80, give or take. If you ever have a surgery that takes out your sex hormone-making bits, you're immediately in medical menopause and you should be receiving medical care for that. Menopause isn't just for aunties.

Menopause symptoms don't just go away either. Mine are severely debilitating and got worse every year after I hit full menopause. If a doctor tries to take my HRT away they'll find themselves with a broken hand, if they're lucky. I would literally rather risk breast cancer than stop being a person again, but as stated above, a lot of the medical advice out there for HRT is outdated and wrong, and it's much safer than people hear.

Do your research! The subreddit I mentioned has a good FAQ and is full of women who have centuries of lived experience with menopause altogether. You can find hormone facts, alternatives for if hormones don't work for you, online services to try, studies to read up on, latest articles, and tons of support.

You can also learn about fun rare symptoms like fucking IBS, which I got. Yes, from goddamn menopause. It's like 90% better on HRT. Who built this wack ass body??

Anyway. Your body is gonna get weird. Yes, again. But you don't have to deal with it alone. We're all out here too. And we should be loud about it. We're suffering and it sucks and we deserve good care and understanding. We're people. Just people.

Gather around, my young friends and fellow dinosaurs, let me tell you about some BULLSHIT no one ever tells you about. I'm talking about menopause and perimenopause. Now, menopause has a very stringent medical definition. You have to not have had a period for exactly 12 months and a day to be considered in menopause. All the bullshit before that day once you start going through The Change is considered perimenopause. Here's some bullshit you might experience that people actually talk about when you're in perimenopause:

- shorter time between periods

- irregular periods

- hot flashes and/or cold flashes

- fucked up sleep

- OMG NIGHT SWEATS

- Vagina as dry as the Sahara desert

- lighter periods and/or endless bleeding like it's The Flood but it's in your pants

- lack of interest in Adult Fun Times

This time of joy can last anywhere from a couple of years to a god damn decade and there's no medical way right now to predict it.

Here's some of the REAL bullshit they don't tell you about but your dinosaur aunt is here to let you know:

- You can start perimenopause in your 30s, don't listen to idiot doctors who tell you you're "too young" because they don't know your body like you do.

- Perimenopause will make you HELLA DUMB. Seriously, I'm talking Bigly broken brain. Brain fog? Check. Short term memory? Wave goodbye to it. Ability to make words form out of thoughts? Yeah, good luck to you.

- Perimenopause can cause horrible fatigue because in addition to losing estrogen, you're also losing testosterone. Oh and that also leads to muscle wasting, cool cool.

- Things might suddenly hurt more because estrogen is known to be neuroprotective.

- If you're super lucky like I am, and like to collect rare illnesses, you might even get Burning Mouth Syndrome 💀

- And meanwhile, while you're going through this bullshit, you'll be getting gaslit by doctors who are operating based on 30 year old debunked data about how HRT causes breast cancer (not really) and that they shouldn't put you on it until you're in actual menopause. (Data shows starting HRT early can potentially prevent Alzheimer's in later years.)

- There are entire online clinics right now (I use Midi Health) focused on providing care for peri and menopausal patients and they will happily prescribe you HRT even if your regular PCP or OBGYN do not (if you meet the criteria). I've been pretty impressed with how holistically they view the patient. For full disclosure, I learned about them from my integrative health doctor and they do not accept Medicare (yet).

I'm 46 years old right now and I've been symptomatic for perimenopause for the last 8 years, although it's gotten the most dramatic in the past 2 years or so, which I hope means I'm almost done, holy hell. Yeah I was on the early side, but if it can happen to me, it can happen to you, so it's never too early to think about these things. And I hope to at least spare some of you the mind-fuckery I've been through because no one told me about most of this stuff, including my own mother who just DOESN'T REMEMBER what happened to her and now I completely understand why. And because I also have a connective tissue disease, I used to just dismiss my pain and fatigue as being caused by that illness rather than the loss of hormones.

Anyways, this is why we need Elders in our lives, so they can do Grandma Story Hour like I just did and validate you when the entire medical field tries to gaslight you. I hope you've found some or all of this educational/useful. Please share with your friends because we really do NOT talk about this stuff enough. (Ewwww Moon Blood!)

Stay well, and don't let the bastards grind you down!

[humbuns]

when did that start?

[clarkeybabey]

❝ i need you to fill the void ❞

# summary; someone spoils your secret

# playlist; void, the neighbourhood, nothing's gonna hurt you baby, cigarettes after sex.

# word count; 1.2k

# note; freya, faith, and talia cameo, I didn't proofread and I hate this oops.

Have a wedding they said, it'll be fun they said. You can't name a time when you've been this stressed out and anxious in all your years of living. To make it even worse, the one person who could help you breathe through all of this wasn't going to able to see you for another three and a half hours.

Last night, for the sake of tradition, you slept without George for the first time in more than a year. He texted you about a thousand times after you finally fell asleep about how he couldn't wait to be tied to you for the rest of your lives, which meant you woke up in the best of moods despite the lack of his presence.

Keeping everything a secret wasn't hard, since everyone had done it before for Simon and Talia. Unfortunately, some people you thought you could trust with an invitation weren't the most reliable. Your friends were sat off to the side some snapping pictures of you and themselves, others scrolling social media. Freya gasps, she's unable to control the way her lips purse, and brows crease as she turns the volume of her phone down as quick as possible.

You're sat in a chair, your makeup artist hard at work. "Something wrong?" In the blink of an eye, the girls are all standing around Freya, staring at the screen in disbelief.

Talia chews at her bottom lip before speaking, "Y/N, sweetheart, I'm gonna show you something, but I want you to try not to freak out."

You swear you feel your throat begin to close at the slight waver in her voice, now it's your turn for your brows to knit together, "I'll try," you mumble, absentmindedly picking at your manicure.

She makes her way to you as slow as ever with Freya in tow with her phone, which she hands off to you after turning the volume back up, swiping up and back to the video to restart it. You recognize the username as a girl George had introduced you to a few months ago at the sidemen's anniversary party, you don't recall sending her an invitation...

The video begins with a screech from her, "Hi, guys! This get-ready with me is extra special, this time my friend George is getting married," you feel your stomach drop, cheeks warming as she talks about only being a plus one to someone whose name goes in one ear and straight out the other.

"This better be a fuckin' joke," bile begins to rise in your throat and tears threaten to melt away every bit of the 45 minutes spent on your nearly Pinterest-perfect makeup. When you click on the comments you notice there are some from mere seconds ago and steadily continue to pour in, you shake your head hoping someone will pinch you and wake you from this atrocious nightmare, "God, I really wish this was a joke," you whisper, your bottom lip trembling uncontrollably.

You look up at the girls around you as you slowly start to crumble under the weight of it all. Faith is typing away furiously, jamming her fingers against her phone screen, you hand Freya her phone back, wordlessly reaching for your own that was laying screen down on the vanity.

When the screen comes to life you see messages, notifications from dms, posts, and tweets you've been tagged in. Nothing really catches your eye aside from two missed calls from George and a few texts just under them.

my fiance 😝😈: call me when you see this please, darling

And you did exactly that. He answers on the first ring, his soft, accented voice filling your ear ripping another sob from your throat, "Y'alright, love?" He asks knowing the answer, hoping to god you weren't on tiktok to see what he'd seen a few minutes ago, but as you cry into the speaker he understands you have.

You shake your head, before remembering that he can't see your actions, "No," you croak, making him sigh and shake his head. This is your day and somehow someone's managed to ruin it for you.

To be completely honest, George couldn't care less about everything being secret, but all you wanted through the whole planning process was privacy, no huge party after the ceremony, nothing.

You didn't want to post anything until you were boarding the plane for your well-deserved nearly three-week honeymoon. And your fiance was more than happy to oblige.

"Can you come here? Please, I couldn't give two fucks about tradition, we're fuckin' tiktokers for god's sake." you pause a second until you hear shuffling on his end, followed by a snort. "I'm already outside, baby," you hear the smile in his voice, you keep your phone pressed to your ear with your shoulder.

When the door swings open, he's standing there looking so damn good in the suit you picked out together so many months ago and it makes you cry even harder, knowing how much of a snotty mess you probably look now all because everything not going the way you imagined.

He wraps you into his arms before you're able to say anything, breathing you in. "You look beautiful," he steps back from you keeping a comforting hand on your hip as he looks you up in down, "this satin?" He asks pinching at the material of your dressing gown, to which you simply nod, your throat still feeling tight.

Of course, he notices how much everything's eating you alive, "I handled it, sweetheart. I figured out who invited her, they know we don't think its a good idea for her to come," he gives you a reassuring squeeze, watching your face closely for any change of expression.

You pursed your lips taking a deep breath through your nose, "Thank you, I missed you so much," he smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling, instead of responding immediately, he chose to envelope you into his arms. Your ear is pressed against his chest so close you can hear his heart thumping against his ribcage, "Missed you more, could hardly sleep without you."

This time when he pulls away, his hands cup your face, and his lips meet yours in what you swear is the best kiss you've ever had, he doesn't keep you like that for as long as you'd like, leaving you chasing after the feeling. He rests his forehead against yours and his hand slips from your cheek to your neck where he feels your pulse quicken.

He breathes you in, this time stepping back for real knowing the girls are waiting for you, "Now go get in the dress I've been hearing about for months, wanna hurry up and make you mine for life."

You smile, the first real one you've worn since reading his messages this morning, "So impatient," you mutter and he shakes his head, swatting at your bum, "I can show you impatient," he quirks a brow, his voice is laced with suggestiveness that's unmistakable

"Later," he raises his hands in surrender as you turn back to the door that's ajar, his hand catches your wrist, turning you around quicker than you could let a gasp escape you. His lips find yours once more and you exhale out of your nose, relaxing against him as he smiles against your mouth. "Now you're free to go," your fingers dance along your now tingling lips, as you watch him disappear down the hallway,

When you return to the girls you almost have forgotten the original situation at hand aside from the fact that maybe every little thing about him is the best.

[willowed-wisp]

sweethearts [ johnny ‘soap’ mactavish ]

johnny ‘soap’ mactavish x f!reader

You had known him forever. Since nursery school and all the time in between.

John MacTavish- though, you called him Johnny. And in later life, that turned into calling him ‘Soap’.

He had been gunning for that uniform since you were 15 and he was 16… falsifying his age only to fail miserably.

It was culture shock to when he left when he was 18… he was your first friend, first kiss, first young love. Yet, it was nothing official. Just two best friends experimenting with each other. You couldn’t have asked for a better person.

You were there when he came back- more of a man than the boy who left. All of him larger than before even that indicative smile. But HE hadn’t changed, still the same snack eating, football loving Scotsman.

That meant your attraction for him was worse than ever- having been in love with Johnny for most of your life. His sky bursted gaze enough to drive you crazy.

Someone like him would never feel the same about you- strictly friends.

Mates who got mistaken for boyfriend and girlfriend most days of the week. Neither of you minded it but it was always you who persisted the, ‘as if… he drives me insane…’ the pining kind of insanity.

His return led you to distance yourself, an insecure freshly turned 18 year old, distracting herself from the boy next door. Johnny could do much better for friends than you, he was the youngest SAS recruit to pass the selection.

HE COULD DO MUCH BETTER THAN YOU.

You didn’t even go say goodbye to him when he left for his first mission- somewhere you’d never know.

Instead, he came to you. Stood at your doorstep.

His face gloomy, “So you weren’ even gonna say goodbye?” Not knowing what to do, your shoulders shrugged and silence ensued. “You’ve been off for weeks, when was the last time we had a movie night? Is it because of the training? Me leavin’?”

Fingers picking at your nails; you’d never been nervous around him. But this was the first time seeing him in god-knows how long, when you hadn’t spent a day away from each other. “I don’t know, John- ,”

“You do know and that’s the problem, Y/N, because you won’t bloody tell me what I’ve done wrong,” he spoke harsher than intended, regretting it within an instant as your stepped forward- sizing the six foot something soldier up.

Staring up at him, “Why do you bother with me when you could have anybody around you? I’m not going anywhere with my life!” It wasn’t envy that spurred you on, it was the fact he was going to leave you.

Heartbroken and yearning. Lost without the boy who had always bolstered you up when you had been thrown to the ground.

Johnny’s eyes welled with tears, “What’s made you think that?”

In a whisper, “You’ve just gotten into the fucking SAS, Johnny…”

“So what? I’m still the same guy… nothing’s ever gonna change me… you should know that by now…”

You wanted things to change- the dynamics between you. Before he found somebody who would knock him off his feet and you’d never get the chance.

His fingers trailed your arm, before he cupped your hand. Blue coveted your vision, “Nothing’s goin’ to change us, you’re my absolute best mate…”

Like a dagger, he struck a nerve, “Maybe I don’t want to be your ‘best mate’, I’m sick of pining for you when clearly you’ll never feel the same way,” a quick pause, “Go and find a pretty gir- ,” Before you knew it, his kiss smothered you. More intimate than when you were twelve, with more intent.

Instead of resisting, you caved in. Hands balanced holding his jawline, clean shaven.

Exploring every inch of your body in that hurried kiss. It was better than anything you had dreamed.

Before you pulled away first, “You’re my everything, Y/N…” Thumbs rubbing circles at your waist. “I cannot tell you how long I’ve wanted to do tha’…”

The memory ran writhe in your brain. That was 8 years ago…

Since then you were happily married with a baby on the way. Johnny had been deployed for over a month. Today he was supposed to be returning- from where you didn’t have a clue but he always came home safely.

That’s what mattered.

You expected the phone to start buzzing, the usual unknown number saying to go to the airport. Instead, a knock at the door.

It was like him not to want to run you around pregnant. But it was Simon who answered the door.

Not able to help the tremble. Air caught in your throat, choking on nothing. “He’s not… is he?” Stopping those tears from coming down- clutching your belly.

You’d have fallen to your knees- had it not been for capable hands.

You looked up, blue eyes for days and a face contorted worriedly, “What did you say, to ‘er, LT?” He held you close, but it would never be enough for you. “You and munchkin okay?” He rubbed your large stomach.

You crushed him in your arms. “Darlin’, I’m a bit tender…” Only then did you notice the sling in his arm, a bandage skirting beneath his shirt.

“What happened?” He shook his head, a grin on his face.

One of nervousness, “It could have been a lot worse,” Simon was as gruff as usual. You would never be allowed to know what happened.

“I’m just glad you’re safe and sound,” Thumb rubbing along longer stubble on his cheek, there was more to the story than either him or Simon were telling you. “You too, Si, thanks for taking care of him.” Spoken wholeheartedly, “Dinners on, you can stay if you want?”

He accepted as he usually did. The mood held less tension as time went on. You came to the conclusion that you were lucky to have Johnny in front of you, laughing at some stupid dad joke Simon said.

All you did was sit there, looking at the guy you had loved all your life.

Your Johnny…

————

I contemplated 💀 Johnny but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. He’s just too sweet and just too tragic to write.

Thank you for reading :) xx

————

masterlist

[pixeltwix]

-Unrelated McGucket Ramblings

Because my mental illness is metal illnessing my brain has been having a wonderful time combining interests. Specifically gravity falls and the Odyssey of all things?

The parallels between Fiddleford, Emma May, and Tate -& Odysseus, Penelope, and Telemachus is driving me bonkers. EVERYTIME I hear songs like ‘There Are Other Ways’, ‘I’m Just A Man’, and ‘Love in Paradise’ I can so vividly see Fiddleford so ardently longing for home, for his wife, for his son, but something or some event keeps pulling him back every single time he has a mind to just go home. I can’t help but let my head make the connections and rewire silly lyrics to fit closer together than I already feel they are.

‘Back at home my wife awaits for me, she’s my everything, my Emma May. And she’s all my power, all my power, but it’s been (x) long years. Oh (x) long years since I have seen my wife, and now the god of (chaos) is out to end my life-“

Additionally while I do not see Emma May as Calypso to any degree, her few lines in ‘Love in Paradise’ stuck out so hard to me if it was outside of the context of Calypso & Odysseus’s no good very bad situation. Just the-

“It will be fine dear, come back inside dear, love of my life come back to paradise. I know your life’s been hard, I’ll stay inside your heart. I love you my dear, I love our time here, life would be so much worse if you had died. Please stay away from harm, stay in my open arms.”

Is SO POST FIRST PORTAL TESTING FIDDLEFORD CODED- when Emma May finally comes up for herself to check on him in Gravity Falls and sees his condition. I refuse to believe for a moment that she didn’t at least try to understand what was going on before fearing for her and her sons life. Finding her husband most likely stumbling around like he doesn’t even know himself or where he is, trying to soothe and bring him back to her. And at first it seems like it’s working, like he’s slowly piecing together what she’s putting down, but then he’s sparking, spiraling again. She tries a final time to coax him from whatever whirl of madness he’s gotten himself into, but it never gets better. In fact it keeps getting worse. But just the vISUAL ALONE of her with that part of the song trying to bring him away from harm all the while he’s still deeply haunted with the ‘all I hear are screams’. AHHH-

Additionally the narrative of Penelope stalling her suitors for YEARS because she’s hoping, praying, that her husband is still alive, still out there somewhere. That maybe just maybe he’ll come home. I am screAMING and pointing at the Emma May core of it all. I’ve been meaning to develop elderly FiddEm dynamic be it platonic for the sake of recovery, but my biggest thing with her design is despite after all these years she sTILL carries aspects of her husband with her. Be it wearing his old specs he left at home or still keeping her floral motif with her brooch. She still loves him deep down- she always will, and she’s always gonna mourn the life that could’ve been if Bill hadn’t been involved, but still. Keeping him as apart of her even if she ‘hated’ him for so long kept her going.

Also idk plus just the-

‘Hell no, I could kill you where you stand. I’m no pet, I’m a married man.’

Is silly to me because I know it would be very ooc for Fiddleford to have THAT much bite even if he is capable of ‘lashing out’. Regardless it’s still amusing brain movie content to envision-

If I didn’t already have so many other ideas on hand I’d draw this all myself, but raaaaa so many other concepts I wanna draw first :(

[p-h-a-n-t-a]

I tend to fixate on evan as a character at times because his whole shtick is that hes mysterious and has issues tm, but also because i have also been the haunted (literally spoke to ghosts as a child) ass white kid (white) suffering from food insecurity (yall ever have a mustard sandwich, its bread heels with mustard on them. Thats how i learned to like mustard.) So i relate to him quite a bit.

But, i cant help but be deeply curious about the other misfits and their lives, struggles, and their mysteries.

I frequently work with kids like Jammer (ive been christened with a nickname by middleschoolers. Its Shawty DooBop. Im glad its that and not "that mean ass librarian") and I wonder what his life is like on a day to day basis. Did he pick his sister up from her after school program? How long has he been writing? A lot of kids I know, no matter how much they like the sports they play, were originally put into them by parents hoping they could be something great, but what would he want to be if he wanted to be something different? Did he ever read the maximum ride series? Does he actually like dragon ball Z or is it more of a cultural osmosis thing?

K is deeply relatable to me on a number of levels (nonbinary tumblrina) but also deeply alien. Do they talk to their family at all? Do they feel remorse for cyber bullying people over steven universe? Do they get mad at themself when they have to remember people cant just be tropes, they also have to be people? Even themself? When will they go to therapy????

Sam black, britain, butler my beloved. Fellow child of divorce, how much did that influence your comunication? How long has being an influencer been her focus? Does she actually want to inluence, or does she just want friends? She struggled in school, did anyone ever try to help? Would it have been better or worse to be on an iep plan? Does she still talk to her family much now that shes famous, is it out of love, or out of that family wanting her support and her energy? How has T2 stayed a teacup pig? Those usually grow into potbelly pigs of some sort. Does she feel like her magic has actually hampered her ability to connect with others because she is so easily liked? What were the sailor moon forums like, what happened after your pink pal stopped liking pink?

Also to the magic mommy of all time, what was Bombini's life like? A 600+ year old wizard who seems to have lost everything dear to him and is upholding the memory of people long lost built on foundations that were crumbling from the start. Dudes middle name is kyle. He seems like a paralell to our sad ass white boy, if they had decided to uphold the nature of magic and the old ways, would evan have become like him? A shuffling, sad, impossibly old steward? Also whats happening on tadershacourt. Whos the shadow man with Khan.

God i have so many questions, im deeply glad misfits and magic got a season 2 but i do think it has just given me more to be insane about. I managed this with only 4 eps and a holiday special, im gonna explode. Truely the tumblr coded series of all time.

[theredrenard]

(Long post ahead! Keep reading under the cut!)

‼️Warning for homophobia, toxic masculinity, mild alcohol abuse (mentioned like twice), and a single use of the F slur.

You’re 6 years old. You fall down the front steps and chip a tooth on the sidewalk below. Your mother holds you and dries your tears. Suck it up, your father says. Real men don’t cry.

You’re 8 years old. You fall off your bike and scrape your knee. You don’t cry, but it’s a near thing. Your mother patches you up while you sniffle pitifully. Tears make you weak, Thomas, your father says.

You’re 10 years old, and your mother has cancer. Your father is at work. You curl into your mother’s side in that uncomfortable hospital bed, and you cry and cry and cry.

You’re 12 years old at your mother’s funeral. You don’t cry. You can’t. She’s not here to hold you anymore, and your father would be so, so disappointed. She was always too soft on you, Tom, your father says as they lower her casket into the damp earth.

You’re 15 years old, and your father is a flurry of drunken rage because he found out you kissed another boy under the bleachers. You hide in your room, nursing a freshly-bruised black eye and fighting back tears. No son of mine is gonna be a fucking faggot, your father says.

You’re 17 years old when you forge your father’s signature, running away to join the army and never looking back. You don’t even want to be in the army, you just want to get away from him.

You’re 20 years old when you nearly get caught staring at another recruit. You shake it off and remind yourself that “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” is still in effect. They can never know. If they know, it’ll ruin your life.

You’re 22 years old when your chopper goes down in a whirl of flames. You fight tooth and nail to get free of the wreckage, dragging yourself hand over hand through the sand, bleeding profusely from a nasty gash in your side as bullets whiz by overhead. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You’re lucky you’re still breathing. You get honorably discharged and sent home. In the back of your mind, you hear your father. Weak, he says. You have no right to cry when half your crew is dead.

You’re 24 when you join the 118. You meet Captain Gerrard, and he reminds you eerily of your father. You can’t show any weakness. If you do, it’ll ruin your life.

You’re 26 years old when you meet Hen Wilson and she begs you to see her, to respect her and her place within the 118. You wish you could be like her. Out and proud, taking up space. You can’t. It’ll ruin your life.

You’re 29 years old when you decide you’re ready for the sky once more. The 118 is better under Captain Nash than it was before, but this place never felt like home. You’re not sure if anywhere really has.

You’re 35 years old working at Harbor Station when you get a call from an old friend. He needs your help, something about an air tanker and a block on fire? You owe him for saving your sorry ass, so you figure, why not? You’re not doing anything else with your life.

You’re 39 years old when you get another call from that same old friend. This time, he talks about a cruise ship and a hurricane. You had no idea this call would change your life.

You’re 39 years old when you meet Evan Buckley. Buck, the others call him, but not you. Never you. He’s Evan to you, and he’s everything. That thought scares you. This man, you worry, could completely upend your life. For better or worse, you don’t know yet.

You’re 39 years old when you kiss Evan Buckley and change his life. You realize you’re his first relationship with a man, and you pray that he realizes he can do better before you fall too far and things come crashing down.

You’re 39 years old when Evan gets that excited sparkle in his eyes, sitting across from you in his loft’s kitchen after six months of dating. Move in, he says. Somewhere in the back of your mind, a seed of panic blooms. You’ve heard this story before, and you remember how it ends. You’re his first, you can’t be his last.

You’re 39 years old when you walk away from the single greatest thing, greatest person, to have ever happened to you. You broke his heart and shattered your own in the process.

You go home. You ignore the texts from Hen, from Howie, from Eddie. You drink yourself sick, and you cry harder than you ever have before.

What’s a few tears matter now? You’ve already ruined your life.

[dreamcircuitsys]

Even when I WAS anti-endo (dw I’m not anymore) I wasn’t this ignorant 💀

I don’t wanna make assumptions about the experiences of the original poster, but anyone who has ever been hospitalized long-term for psychiatric issues knows that this is ridiculous. I was hospitalized before I even found out I was a system, and it was one of the worst experiences of my life - at least the first two weeks, before they were able to get me into an actual mental health facility and were keeping me locked up in the ER.

When I was in anti-endo spaces, i did get a bit of shit for talking about how awful psych hospitals are, but I honestly don’t rlly blame them for thinking I was anti-recovery. Because most people don’t know how bad psych patients are treated until they are one, or are close with someone who is. It’s inhumane and torturous, but rarely talked about because outsiders just don’t know

But this either seems like rage bait or willful ignorance. Like yes, most people do want to do anything they can to get better, but mental health hospitals are just gonna make it worse most of the time???? And outside of that, most antipsych people are critical of the systems and beliefs that psychologists/psychiatrists operate under… they’re not anti-recovery as a whole. Like, I’m SUPER critical of the field of psychology, but still absolutely encourage people to seek out help if they need it… I’m also just a big promoter of “you don’t have to work with a therapist who is actively bullying you” and “14 year olds who are being abused at home shouldn’t be thrown in solitary confinement and treated like war criminals because they tried to end their lives”

I don't think anti endos realize how much larger of a fight the anti-psych community is. It's so much bigger than syscourse, it's an entire movement built up of psych survivors, disabled people, people of color, plurals, and more who desire to abolish a system built for their oppression. These people DID look for care, and it fucking shot them in the back because it's a system made to kick down minorities. What a disgusting thing to say, god you're all horrific.

[youchangedmedestiel]

I remember being here for November 5th last year. There were so many Destiel posts, I couldn't keep up with all of them.

[kacievvbbbb]

The fact that doffy at the very grown age of 41 is still making his people call him young master is soooo funny, especially given his immortality obsession.

41 isn't even particularly old or anything, but dude saw his hairline receding and couldn't take it anymore. And decided to make his mid-life crisis everyone else's problem.

His bathroom is probably filled with bottles on bottles of bombshell blonde hair dye. his blonde hair is all he’s got left.

he is refusing to die his twink death.

[lesbianralzarek]

idk what discourse dimension some of you "fandom elders" are stuck in, but in my ~15 years in online (and sometimes irl) fandom spaces, this is the golden age for me

shipping wars have literally always existed and acting like we all used to hold hands and sing kumbaya is insane. "well, there wasnt this moral component thats soooo annoying these days" okay but thats worse. you do see how thats worse, right? people used to tell each other to kill themselves over zutara vs kataang and then not even care when people were racist. twice as mad for reasons half as reasonable. also, where were you all in 2015-2019? that was the era of "steven universe is fascism apologism" and "i headcanon these characters as found family, so its incest to ship them". now shipping "drama" is like "oh i broke mutuals with them after they wrote smut of this child character being assaulted by their parent", which is actually just a normal response

wondering what torment nexus some of you are trapped in where fandom has gotten more toxic? hope you can escape soon, because im having a ball out here in a world where biphobia is seen as a bigger problem than a ship being dumb

[stuckinapril]

Think I’m making communication a non-negotiable for 2024. If you don’t know how to properly communicate like an adult we quite literally can’t be friends

[thebaconspider]

oh... wilfre...

[ghostforum]

[notebooks-and-laptops]

Wow I love it when a little rant post about my silly video games and how I feel about them nets me anon hate. People are absolutely allowed to be disappointed by things they're disappointed by, just like they're allowed to be excited by things they're excited by, and share them in fandom spaces if they want.

Look just block me like a normal person stfu

Peace and love to anyone who is getting angry fans in their inboxes rn because they expressed a pretty mild opinion <3

[britcision]

Out here trying to just write a fun and slightly awkward first time but these goddamn men are suddenly out here giving themselves Revelations and Dramatic Moments and the best worst sex of both of their lives and I just

That is not what this is for

That is not what I wanted

But it’s good shit and I have nowhere else to put it and if I stop and go back what the hell else do I do instead?