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#I just suck at connecting with people and talking to them
cripplecharacters · 3 hours
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The Mask Trope, and Disfiguremisia in Media
[large text: The Mask Trope, and Disfiguremisia in Media]
If you followed this blog for more than like a week, you're probably familiar with “the mask trope” or at least with me complaining about it over and over in perpetuity. But why is it bad and why can't this dude shut up about it?
Let's start with who this trope applies to: characters with facial differences. There is some overlap with blind characters as well; think of the blindfold that is forced on a blind character for no reason. Here is a great explanation of it in this context by blindbeta. It's an excellent post in general, even if your character isn't blind or low vision you should read at least the last few paragraphs.
Here's a good ol’ tired link to what a facial difference is, but to put it simply:
If you have a character, who is a burn survivor or has scars, who wears a mask, this is exactly this trope.
The concept applies to other facial differences as well, but scars and burns are 99% of the representation and “representation” we get, so I'll be using these somewhat interchangeably here.
The mask can be exactly what you think, but it refers to any facial covering that doesn't have a medical purpose. So for example, a CPAP mask doesn't count for this trope, but a Magic Porcelain Mask absolutely does. Bandages do as well. If it covers the part of the face that is “different”, it can be a mask in the context used here.
Eye patches are on thin ice because while they do serve a medical purpose in real life, in 99.9% of media they are used for the same purpose as a mask. It's purely aesthetic.
With that out of the way, let's get into why this trope sucks and find its roots. Because every trope is just a symptom of something, really.
Roughly in order of the least to most important reasons...
Why It Sucks 
[large text: Why It Sucks]
It's overdone. As in — boring. You made your character visibly different, and now they're no longer that. What is the point? Just don't give them the damn scar if you're going to hide it. 
Zero connection with reality. No one does this. I don't even know how to elaborate on this. This doesn't represent anyone because no one does this.
Disability erasure. For the majority of characters with facial differences, their scars or burns somehow don't disable them physically, so the only thing left is the visible part… aaand the mask takes care of it too. Again, what's the point? If you want to make your disabled character abled, then just have them be abled. What is the point of "curing" them other than to make it completely pointless?
Making your readers with facial differences feel straight up bad. I'm gonna be honest! This hurts to see when it's all you get, over and over. Imagine there's this thing that everyone bullied you about, everyone still stares at, that is with you 24/7. Imagine you wanted to see something where people like you aren't treated like a freakshow. Somewhat unrealistic, but imagine that. That kind of world would only exist in fiction, right? So let's look into fiction- oh, none of the positive (or at least not "child-murderer evil") characters look like me. I mean they do, but they don't. They're forced to hide the one thing that connects us. I don't want to hide myself. I don't want to be told over and over that this is what people like me should do. That this is what other people expect so much that it's basically the default way a person with a facial difference can exist. I don't want this.
Perpetuating disfiguremisia. 
"Quick" Disfiguremisia Talk
[large text: "Quick" Disfiguremisia Talk]
It's quick when compared to my average facial difference discussion post, bear with me please.
Disfiguremisia; portmanteau of disfigure from “disfigurement” and -misia, Greek for hatred. 
Also known as discrimination of those mythical horrifically deformed people.
It shows up in fiction all the time; in-universe and in-narrative. Mask trope is one of the most common* representations of it, and it's also a trope that is gaining traction more and more, both in visual art and writing. This is a trope I particularly hate, because it's a blatant symptom of disfiguremisia. It's not hidden and it doesn't try to be. It's a painful remainder that I do not want nor need.
*most common is easily “evil disfigured villain”, just look at any horror media. But that's for another post, if ever.
When you put your character in a mask, it sends a clear message: in your story, facial differences aren't welcome. The world is hostile. Other characters are hostile. The author is, quite possibly, hostile. Maybe consciously, but almost always not, they just don't think that disfiguremisia means anything because it's the default setting. No one wants to see you because your face makes you gross and unsightly. If you have a burn; good luck, but we think you're too ugly to have a face. Have a scar? Too bad, now you don't. Get hidden.
Everything here is a decision that was made by the author. You are the one who makes the world. You are the person who decides if being disabled is acceptable or not there. The story doesn't have a mind of its own, you chose to make it disfiguremisic. 
It doesn't have to be.
Questions to Ask Yourself
[large text: Questions to Ask Yourself]
Since I started talking about facial differences on this blog, I have noticed a very specific trend in how facial differences are treated when compared to other disabilities. A lot of writers and artists are interested in worldbuilding where accessibility is considered, where disabled people are accepted, where neurodivergence is seen as an important part of the human experience, not something “other”. This is amazing, genuinely.
Yet, absolutely no one seems to be interested in a world that is anything but cruel to facial differences. There's no escapist fantasies for us.
You see this over and over, at some point it feels like the same story with different names attached.
The only way a character with a facial difference can exist is to hide it. Otherwise, they are shamed by society. Seen as something gross. I noticed that it really doesn't matter who the character is, facial difference is this great equalizer. Both ancient deities and talking forest cats get treated as the same brand of disgusting thing as long as they're scarred, as long as they had something explode in their face, as long as they've been cursed. They can be accomplished, they can be a badass, they can be the leader of the world, they can kill a dragon, but they cannot, under any circumstances, be allowed to peacefully exist with a facial difference. They have to hide it in the literal sense, or be made to feel that they should. Constantly ashamed, embarrassed that they dare to have a face.
Question one to ask yourself: why is disfiguremisia a part of your story?
I'm part of a few minority groups. I'm an immigrant, I'm disabled, I'm queer. I get enough shit in real life for this so I like to take a break once in a while. I love stories where transphobia isn't a thing. Where xenophobia doesn't come up. But my whole life, I can't seem to find stories that don't spew out disfiguremisia in one way or the other at the first possible opportunity.
Why is disfiguremisia a default part of your worldbuilding? Why can't it be left out? Why in societies with scarred saviors and warriors is there such intense disgust for them? Why can't anyone even just question why this is the state of the world?
Why is disfiguremisia normal in your story?
Question two: do you know enough about disfiguremisia to write about it?
Ask yourself, really. Do you? Writers sometimes ask if or how to portray ableism when they themselves aren't disabled, but no one bothers to wonder if maybe they aren't knowledgeable enough to make half their story about their POV character experiencing disfiguremisia. How much do you know, and from where? Have you read Mikaela Moody or any other advocates’ work around disfiguremisia? Do you understand the way it intersects; with being a trans woman, with being Black? What is your education on this topic?
And for USAmericans... do you know what "Ugly Laws" are, and when they ended?
Question three: what does your story associate with facial difference — and why?
If I had to guess; “shame”, “embarrassment”, “violence”, "disgust", “intimidation”, “trauma”, “guilt”, “evil”, “curse”, “discomfort”, “fear”, or similar would show up. 
Why doesn't it associate it with positive concepts? Why not “hope” or “love” or “pride” or “community”? Why not “soft” or “delicate”? Dare I say, “beauty” or “innocence”? Why not “blessing”? “Acceptance”?
Why not “normal”?
Question four: why did you make the character the way they are? 
Have you considered that there are other things than “horrifically burned for some moral failing” or “most traumatic scenario put to paper”? Why is it always “a tough character with a history of violence” and never “a Disfigured princess”? Why not “a loving parent” or “a fashionable girl”, instead of “the most unkind person you ever met” and “total badass who doesn’t care about anything - other than how scary their facial difference is to these poor ableds”? Don’t endlessly associate us with brutality and suffering. We aren’t violent or manipulative or physically strong or brash or bloodthirsty by default. We can be soft, and frail and gentle and kind - and we can still be proud and unashamed.
Question five: why is your character just… fine with all this?
Can’t they make a community with other people with facial differences and do something about this? Demand the right to exist as disabled and not have to hide their literal face? Why are they cool with being dehumanized and treated with such hatred? Especially if they fall into the "not so soft and kind" category that I just talked about, it seems obvious to me that they would be incredibly and loudly pissed off about being discriminated against over and over... Why can't your character, who is a subject of disfiguremisia, realize that maybe it's disfiguremisia that's the problem, and try to fix it?
Question six: why is your character wearing a mask? 
Usually, there's no reason. Most of the time the author hasn't considered that there even should be one, the character just wears a mask because that's what people with facial differences do in their mind. Most writers aren't interested in this kind of research or even considering it as a thing they should do. The community is unimportant to them, it's not like we are real people who read books. They think they understand, because to them it's not complex, it's not nuanced. It's ugly = bad. Why would you need a reason?
For cases where the reason is stated, I promise, I have heard of every single one. To quote, "to spare others from looking at them". I have read, "content warning: he has burn scars under the mask, he absolutely hates taking it off!", emphasis not mine. Because "he hates the way his skin looks", because "they care for their appearance a lot" (facial differences make you ugly, remember?). My favorite: "only has scars and the mask when he's a villain, not as a hero", just to subtly drive the point home. This isn't the extreme end of the spectrum. Now, imagine being a reader with a facial difference. This is your representation, sitting next to Freddy Krueger and Voldemort.
How do you feel?
F.A.Q. [frequently asked questions]
[large text: F.A.Q. [frequently asked questions]]
As in, answers and “answers” to common arguments or concerns. 
“Actually they want to hide their facial difference” - your character doesn’t have free will. You want them to hide it. Again; why.
“They are hiding it to be more inconspicuous!” - I get that there are elves in their world, but there’s no universe where wearing a mask with eye cutouts on the street is less noticeable than having a scar. Facial differences aren’t open wounds sprinkling with blood, in case that's not clear.
“It’s for other people's comfort” - why are other characters disfiguremisic to this extent? Are they forcing all minorities to stay hidden and out of sight too? That’s a horrible society to exist in.
“They are wearing it for Actual Practical Reason” - cool! I hope that this means you have other characters with facial differences that don’t wear it for any reason.
"It's the character's artistic expression" - I sure hope that there are abled characters with the same kind of expression then.
“They’re ashamed of their face” - and they never have any character development that would make that go away? That's just bad writing. Why are they ashamed in the first place? Why is shame the default stance to have about your own face in your story? I get that you think we should be ashamed and do these ridiculous things, but in real life we just live with it. 
"Now that you say that it is kinda messed up but I'm too far into the story please help" - here you go.
“[some variation of My Character is evil so it's fine/a killer so it fits/just too disgusting to show their disability” - this is the one of the only cases where I’m fine with disability erasure, actually. Please don’t make them have a facial difference. This is the type of harm that real life activists spend years and decades undoing. Disfiguremisia from horror movies released in the 70s is still relevant. It still affects people today.
"But [in-universe explanation why disfiguremisia is cool and fine actually]" - this changes nothing.
Closing Remarks
[large text: Closing Remarks]
I hope that this post explains my thoughts on facial difference representation better. It's a complicated topic, I get it. I'm also aware that this post might come off as harsh (?) but disfiguremisia shouldn't be treated lightly, it shouldn't be a prop. It's real world discrimination with a big chunk of its origins coming out of popular media.
With the asks that have been sent regarding facial differences, I realized that I probably haven't explained what the actual problems are well enough. It's not about some technical definition, or about weird in-universe explanations. It's about categorizing us as some apparently fundamentally different entity that can't possibly be kind and happy, about disfiguremisia so ingrained into our culture that it's apparently impossible to make a world without it; discrimination so deep that it can't be excised, only worked around. But you can get rid of it. You can just not have it there in the first place. Disfiguremisia isn't a fundamental part of how the world works; getting rid of it won't cause it to collapse. Don't portray discrimination as an integral, unquestionable part of the world that has to stay no matter what; whether it's ableism, transphobia, or Islamophobia or anything else. A world without discrimination can exist. If you can't imagine a world without disfiguremisia in fiction... that's bad. Sad, mostly. To me, at least.
Remember, that your readers aren't going to look at Character with a Scar #14673 and think "now I'm going to research how real life people with facial differences live." They won't, there's no inclination for them to do so. If you don't give them a reason, they won't magically start thinking critically about facial differences and disfiguremisia. People like their biases and they like to think that they understand.
And, even if you're explaining it over and over ;-) (winky face) there will still be people who are going to be actively resistant to giving a shit. To try and get the ones who are capable of caring about us, you, as the author, need to first understand disfiguremisia, study Face Equality, think of me as a human being with human emotions who doesn't want to see people like me treated like garbage in every piece of media I look at. There's a place and time for that media, and if you don't actually understand disfiguremisia, you will only perpetuate it; not "subvert" it, not "comment" on it.
I hope this helps :-) (smile emoji. for good measure)
Mod Sasza
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rimunagenius · 3 days
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I’m Not Talking ‘Bout Boys I’m Talking ‘Bout Them.
ఌ pairing: Naomi Mcpherson x AFAB!reader
ఌ Warnings: RPF!! homophobia!! , slight smut, slight angst?, fluff, fluff, and some more fluff, realization about the preferred sexual preference (if that’s even a warning)
ఌ Word Count: 3.5k words (major whoopsie…no it’s not)
ఌ okay so as you may not already know, this fic is based off the song ‘girls’ from girl in red. it’s basically the prompt of the story. another thing, this fic is loosely based off me, being a bisexual woman, and not experiencing homophobia personally, but seeing how others around me speak and feel about people in the LGBTQ community, i haven’t come out to my parents. so writing this, i hope this helps in anyway, whether it’s a tiny small or big significant way, to help whoever reads this know it’s okay to be queer. to love women. to love whoever the fuck you want to love. be yourself unapologetically and once you stop caring what the people around you feel, and stop thinking about how you may offend them for your choices and feelings, you’ll truly live a blissful life. okay that’s it, enjoy!
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❧ I've been hiding for so long
These feelings, they're not gone
Could I tell anyone?
You have always been an ally to the LGBTQ community. You had many friends who grew up to be gay or lesbian, nonbinary, all of the above. You even have family members part of the community. You didn't realize until you had hit high school that you were into a spectrum of people. Freshman year, you were curious and never even experimented with anyone other than boys. But by your junior year, you had realized you loved anyone…you were queer.
The thoughts of wanting to understand someone so deeply and have a beautiful connection that would manifest in a caring and long relationship, was all you seeked. It was never a phase that every teenager convinces themselves they're going through—it was real.
But you knew your parents. They'd say they were supportive because you had family that were queer. But now and then, the unsupportive side of them would slip and it made you scared for the reaction you'd get if you had said you not only liked men but everyone.
❧ Afraid of what they'll say
So I push them away
I'm acting so strange
You so desperately wanted to tell your parents about the feelings you had and the thoughts you wanted to share. You just could never get past the what if.
Any conversation about your love life you had dismissed. You couldn't possibly say that you liked a girl or someone who was different than themselves in their eyes. You knew it was getting obvious with the way you'd shut down the topic. You knew that your siblings would catch on.
The jokes they’d make about you being queer because you haven't mentioned the idea of being with a guy recently were starting to irritate you a little more every day. You just had to suck it up and "forget" to tell them about the most beautiful person you had ever met.
❧ They're so pretty, it hurts
I'm not talking 'bout boys
I'm talking 'bout girls
You don't know when it happened but you just knew you had to speak to this person. Their beautiful curly hair, the perfect height, the perfect style, the perfect facial features that were accentuated with the prettiest gold jewelry in their nose. They caught your eye the second you had walked into the club.
You had been with friends and you just couldn't stop looking. Your friends picked up on the longing glances you'd throw their way any chance the conversation got dull someplace.
"Just talk to them!" Your friend yelled over the loud music. "What's the worst that could happen?" They sipped through the straw of their drink while moving their eyes from you to the person you couldn't stop looking at.
"No. Absolutely not. They're way out of my league, dude." Oh, absolutely not. Your friend was not about to take no for an answer. They knew about your family situation. Even though you were a grown woman, your parent's opinions still mattered to you. What they thought of you was important.
"Babe, you are so beautiful and hot. Please be real here. They're coming over here anyways, now's your chance." They smiled, sipping their drink again watching the person walk up to the bar.
"Are you fucking serious?" You took a small step back and bumped into someone. Turning around immediately, you saw them. The perfect person you had been staring at all night long. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I did not know you were right there,"
"No it's okay, don't worry about it." They smiled at you. The height difference was stirring a nervous feeling in your belly. Like someone had released a butterfly sanctuary in your belly.
"Let me pay for your drink, it's the least I can do for someone as gorgeous as you." It slipped out. You hadn't even realized you said it until you said it and saw their face looking back at you. The embarrassment was unbearable. A small smile graced their features and they were thankful you couldn't see the small blush creeping on their cheeks.
"Oh, you don't have to but thank you. What's your name, pretty?" They leaned down so they could hear you better over the music. Your knees were weak.
"Y/n. And yours?" You looked at them, batting your eyelashes. It was hard not to try and make them interested. You thought they were so pretty, you had to have them.
"Naomi. Nice to meet you." You both smiled and insisted on paying for their drink. You paid for it and smiled. The smile faltered as you realized this may or may not be the very last time you see them ever.
"Hey—" You both spoke at the same time. You giggled and looked up at them, signaling for them to finish. "Can I get your number? Sorry if that's forward but your beautiful and want to know if you'd like to get coffee sometime?" They asked, leaning back up to gauge your expression.
"Oh yeah! I'd love to." You gave them your number and for the rest of the night, you both went about your own business with your separate parties. Catching each other's eye from across the room every now and then.
They were the most beautiful person you had ever seen in your whole entire life. It hurt your brain to even fathom how they could exist.
❧ They're so pretty with their button-up shirts
I shouldn't be feeling this
But it's too hard to resist
You and Naomi had hung out a lot of times after the club incident. You were so glad you had decided to get out of your house that night. You didn’t think you could sit through anymore phone calls of your mom telling you how nice her coworker's son was for the last 5 months. You did have to, every now and then.
They had told you they were in a band. A relatively famous one. You hadn't known any of that and were about to explode when they told you they opened for Taylor Swift on her Eras Tour. What made you so oblivious to this information? You had been there. You even asked about the dates and you didn't even realize you had watched Naomi perform.
They also told you that they had a show this coming weekend and needed help picking an outfit or two for the music festival. They invited you over to their house, which was a pretty close range from your condo that you lived in. You had been over more than a handful of times. You guys have been seeing each other for almost 5 months, making it official in the third month. 
"I say, you give me a fashion show and we can decide from there." You smiled at them. You honestly believe that you have never been this happy. Yeah, a few hetero relationships you had in the past you were happy. But you weren't truly happy. Not like this. You haven't told your parents about them but you truly wanted to. You wanted to tell them that Naomi had awakened a newfound liveliness to you. That they had made everything so much easier. You thanked your lucky stars for bumping into them five months ago. 
"I say, that's a great idea, gorgeous." They walked up to you sitting on the foot of the bed, planting a kiss on your forehead, and then walking to the closet to grab an outfit to try on.
They changed in the bathroom and walked out in long basketball shorts, a white wife beater, a jean jacket, and a backward black LA hat. Heat rose to your face, and all over your body. Especially there. You blushed intensely and smiled. "So this outfit is a yes, then?" Naomi laughed as they noticed the immediate reaction your body had. 
"Oh, hell yeah. I honestly think you should never take it off. Unless I'm taking it off you." You smiled and laughed. Their face flushed as they turned away for a second and looked back at you. You gave them a small wink as they walked up to you, crouched down, and grabbed your face pulling you into a kiss. 
Both of you smiled into the kiss, which started to grow more hot and heavy. A small sigh left your nose and you pulled away. "As much as I love doing that, you have a fashion show to finish, baby." A small frown pierced their lips as they grabbed a few new articles of clothing from their closet and walked into the bathroom. 
Walking out in a white button-up shirt, a tie hanging loosely around their neck under the collar, and black vintage Versace jeans. You absolutely loved this outfit. You loved the other one but something about this outfit made them look so professional, endearing, and just overall adorable. You had always loved when they would pick you up for dates and they were wearing an outfit similar to this with a button-up shirt. 
"Oh my god, I love this nomi. You look so good." You smiled as you pulled out your phone and took a video. Naomi does a small spin before flipping the camera off. They laughed and immediately apologized. You both now laughing together. 
❧ Soft skin and soft lips
The soft light from the sunset started creeping in through the bedroom window, adding an even more romantic ambiance to the room. Your soft pants fill the room. 
"Oh..my...god." You sighed heavily, your hands gripping the sheets tightly. Your chest rose and fell with the swift motion and pace Naomi had set with their fingers curling inside of you. You could not lie and say this wasn't better than any sex you had ever prior to now. 
"You're doing so good for me, sweet girl." A whiny moan left your throat as their soft praises and new pet name coaxed you closer and closer to the finish line. Your eyes looked into theirs. Your walls tighten around their slender fingers. How could someone be so good with just their fingers?
"Uh...don't stop. So close, baby." Your voice rose and thighs closed. "Just like that. I'm so close." You could not fathom the feeling they were making you feel. In almost a mere second, their fingers curled in just the right spot causing a soft scream to escape your lips. 
"Oh, baby." Naomi looked down at you, head dropping to kiss up your neck. Their soft lips traveled across your jawline, lips brushing the lobe of your ear. "Let go for me." They whispered, another soft whine left your lips as you did what they asked of you. "Yeah, just like that, baby." 
Naomi maneuvered their body back in front of your aching cunt. Sliding their fingers out, catching whatever slipped out with their tongue. You let out a soft cry, overly sensitive to touch as you were still coming down from what felt like the best high in your life. Naomi then put the fingers they had buried inside of you in their mouth, sucking and licking off any remnants of your orgasm off their fingers. 
You wouldn't lie...you could've come all over again just by watching them watch you while they did that. They then placed a soft kiss on your clit, a soft satisfied hum leaving their lips. Their lips trailed up your body until they found solace on yours again. The passionate kiss left you breathless and tasting yourself on their tongue. 
Naomi’s arms planted on either side of your waist, you ran your hands slowly up their arms. From their soft and slender wrists, all the way to the open expanse of their shirtless back. Naomi sighs at the cool sensation of your rings dragging across their body. 
You then pulled them in for another kiss, your arms slung over the back of their neck. Your fingertips graze the beautiful crazy curls on their head. 
You could stay here forever. 
❧ I should be into this guy
But it's just a waste of time
He's really not my type
I know what I like
"No, mom." I am not going on a date with Nick. He's not my type at the moment." You looked at Naomi, an incredulous look on your face, a quiet tut of laughter leaving their lips as their hand glided up your thigh. 
"Why not? What is your type then?" Your mom asked over the phone. You didn't know if you had wanted to flat-out say that you had been seeing someone. The someone being a famous queer public figure. Your mom on speaker, Naomi being able to hear the whole conversation. 
They nodded their head at you, a look of encouragement in their eyes. This whole ‘your mom trying to set you up’ thing was getting old. You just wanted to tell her that you were so in love with your partner.
"Mommy, I'm already seeing someone. And they make me very happy, any more than a man could." Naomi squeezed your thigh, their head resting in their hand that was leaning on the back of the couch. You smiled at them, mouthing 'I love you.' They did it back. Big smile across their face.
"What do you mean "any more than a man could"? Are you dating a woman? Are you seriously dating a woman? Y/n, don't make me tell your dad about this. What do you think he'll say?" She sighed loudly over the speaker. You started to get super nervous. 
You rubbed your other hand that wasn't holding the phone, across your chest. A heavy feeling weighing down on you suddenly. "No, mommy. They're not a woman either. They're nonbinary, which means they don't choose to identify as a boy or girl. I love them. They make me happy." 
"I don't want to hear details about this gay relationship." 
"I never said anything about that." 
"Well, I don't want to hear about it. I have to go. And I'm going to tell your father about this." You didn't even feel nervous anymore. The hard part was over and you honestly felt irritated that your mom couldn't just be happy that you were happy. Why did it matter who was making you happy?
"Okay, whatever." You hung up the phone and flopped your head against Naomi's chest. "I'm sorry she said what she said, baby. I didn't think she'd take it that bad. For once I thought she’d just listen and still accept what’s happening." You looked up at them. They leaned down and placed a kiss on your lips. 
"It's okay. We'll be okay. At least she knows now. The hard part is over, love." 
"Yes. It's finally over." You both lay there on your couch, cuddling for the rest of the morning. You could only think about how their opinions slowly started to not matter what they thought of Naomi. It only mattered what you thought and you thought the absolute world of them. You had truly never met anyone like them. 
❧ No, this is not a phase
Or a coming of age
This will never change
You and your parents had been fighting over the phone and dinner for the last week. They couldn't get used to the pronouns Naomi had gone by and not identifying with a gender, how they lived their life, and how we both chose to live it together. 
You had slowly started to get over your parent’s projecting and ignorance and felt at peace with your life. With your Naomi. They had known how stressful this had been for you, so a nice romantic weekend was planned for the both of you. Granted the weekend had consisted of you two at Josettes parent's vacation cabin by the lake. It was honestly so beautiful. 
The second night you were there, you celebrated your one-year anniversary with a nice candlelit dinner and walk outside by the dock. When you reached the end of the dock looking out across the lake, the moon casting the perfect light over the royal blue waters. "Naomi look how beautiful." You looked across at the landscape in front of you, your smile faltering when Naomi said they couldn't see it. "What do you me- Oh my god." 
Naomi was on one knee, a beautiful diamond ring in their hand. "Holy shit. No way. Naomi." You couldn't help the tears falling and the laughing trying to hide the fact that you were literally sobbing. 
"Y/n. You are so perfect. From your hair to your contagious laugh. Everything about you is engraved in my brain. I think about you when I'm thousands of miles away and when I'm right under you while you sleep against me." You could not stop the loud sob that escaped your throat. You immediately got on your knees and cupped their face. "I can't even remember what my life was like before you were in it and I don't want to know how it is after. I never want to have an after-you. This," they motioned their index finger between the two of you. Their eyes welling up with tears too. "Is forever. You and me. Will you marry me?" You kissed their lips, the kiss so tender yet so full of every emotion you could possibly feel in a moment like this. 
"Yes. Yes. It will always be a yes, baby." You continued to cry as they slid the ring on your finger. You could not have imagined that this would be your life a year ago. You never wanted to forget this. Forget them. 
Your parents would never understand you both. No matter how much they tried to will this relationship away. You both had already left an imprint in each other's lives. This was forever or nothing. Happiness or nothing. Your love for each other was never going away. 
❧ They're so pretty, it hurts
I'm not talking 'bout boys
I'm talking 'bout girls
You had spent the next day at the cabin wrapped in the sheets and each other's embrace. The bliss that came with Naomi was something so sacred and real. You knew that when you looked at them. 
You had woken up before them. The sun shining through the window behind you. Sitting up, wrapping and holding the sheets over your naked frame, you reached over and took a picture of their peaceful state of sleep. 
The way the sun shines on their features, accentuating the gorgeous freckles across their face, you posted it on your Instagram story. The first time your family will see that this was never a phase. It was real and it was happening.
Captioning the picture, "I can't wait to marry you." You had tagged Naomi before turning your phone off and laying back down next to them. Snuggling in closer, they wrapped their arm around your frame and pulled you closer before placing a soft kiss on your head. You both had gone back to sleep. Just you two against the world. 
❧ They're so pretty with their button-up shirts
They're so pretty, it hurts
I'm not talking 'bout boys
I'm talking 'bout girls
You knew you couldn't count on them to be here. The one special day that you'd ever have in your life and your family couldn't set their pride aside and be there. It didn't bother you much because you had friends and they showed up for you. That's what counted. That's the only thing that matters aside from marrying the love of your life. But it still hurt.
Josette had suggested she walk you down the aisle and you loved the idea. As you both walked down the aisle, you looked at her and then at Naomi. You three had all been crying as the seconds ticked that the marriage was official. 
Naomi in their tux, you in your long white wedding dress. This was perfect. They were perfect. A button-up shirt never looked as good on them as it did right now. 
❧ They're so pretty with their button-up shirts
'Cause I don't know what to do
It's not like I get to choose
Who I love
Your honeymoon consisted of laying in bed, sex, beach, sex, laying in bed, more sex, and sleeping. Falling for them was singlehandedly the best thing you had ever done. You could not believe this is who you got to do life with for the rest of it. 
You didn't choose to be queer. But you sure as hell glad that it got you here in this moment.
❧ They're so pretty, it hurts
I'm not talking 'bout boys
I'm talking 'bout girls
They're so pretty with their button-up shirts
And they're so pretty, it hurts
I'm not talking 'bout boys
I'm talking 'bout girls
They're so pretty, it hurts
Being out, not giving a single damn about who had to say what about your marriage, was a blissful life. You get to watch your soulmate do what they love, be who they are, and choose you to be a part of it. Going through the suppression and ignorance to get here...was so rewarding. 
Naomi. They were so pretty it hurt to even express the amount of attraction and admiration you had for them. You got to have them. All of them. 
Forever.
ఌ loving someone for who they are is all that matters. Whether your bisexual, lesbian, pan, etc. You don’t owe anyone a damn thing. Even if your not out yet, that’s okay. You won’t be in the closet forever, you will be yourself openly and unapologetically, whether it’s tomorrow or in the next year (and i’ll be on that journey with you); Loving a woman, loving your partner, is not a crime. It’s not wrong. No matter what anyone says. They can’t take your love, your identity, yourself, away from you. Never forget it.
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im-smart-i-swear · 6 months
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Ok so Buddy works in space McDonalds right? Does that mean others have a job somewhere as well?
ill admit that in the comic i used space mcdonalds mostly for comedic effect........ i mean they propably worked at a space fast food restaurant at some point, but it definetely wasnt their only job!
okay so after eeneks unexpected family reunion the clones, eenek and zora all decide to stay on znahors ship for the time being(it gets a little cramped but its bearable), and they just kinda start going from place to place after that?? before picking them all up znahor already was doing essentialy that, anyway- he traveled from planet to planet, occasionally helping the locals and then fucking off elsewhere. so thats what they do! they jump from one star system to the next, never staying anywhere for long, trying to not bring any unwanted attention to themselves, and they get by mostly by doing random odd jobs(some more legal than others..) and stuff.
they all(ecept for taka bc hes like 10) get their fair share of shitty jobs, but they dont really have a choice, do they? the war is over, sure, but obviously such a long conflict leaves an impact on the world. the chaos is on one hand a blessing, bc an odd bunch like three galrans and a gaggle of humans dont bring much attention in a sea of refugees, but it also means that sometimes things get messy, and making ends meet is difficult.
out of the clones, buddy has the most experience and knowledge about how alien worlds function, so they often end up with jobs that require communication and frequent interaction with other people- basically what im trying to say is that they work customer service. a lot. they survive it by remembering how infiuriating diplomacy was and telling themselves that hey! at least them fucking something up wont put the fate of the universe into jeopardy this time!! stickbug often works alongside them, but he hates interacting with customers even more that buddy does and tries to avoid this kind of job as much as he can(my man spent too much time trying to please everyone in his childhood and is OVER IT). i mean all of them get a customer service job from time to time but bud is the one whos least terrible at it
im not sure if the others have any preferred jobs tbh, but the idea of soup trying competetive fighting at some point would be interesting to explore i think........
#ask#my funky guys#thanks for asking<33#also man poor taka. he spent like half of his life without interacting with kids his age........#hes the most socially awkward ten year old in the universe. meets a kid his age for the first time and has no idea how to act:(#and the worst part is that even when he manages to form a connection w someone#his family leaves the area pretty soon after that and in most cases he loses contact with that person after a while#so yeah.. hes not doing great#i really dont talk about this kid enough........ i love him hes my special little guy#(i say as i make his life even more difficult for some reason)#anyway#for buddy working in cusomer service or doing not-so-legal odd jobs is STILL better than their voltron days#whenever they look back at that period of their life they cant help but physically recoil#helping some random guy in the asscrack of the universe smuggle some shit for a bit of cash#is in their mind 10 times better than their time as the black paladin#basically their way of coping with their situation is to just. slowly convince themself that being w voltron was The Worst Thing Ever#i mean yeah it wasnt GREAT#but they willfuly ignore every good thing that also happened back then to make themself feel better lol#bc there are moments where living on a relatively small space ship with like 8 other people is stressful and kinda sucks sometimes#even if you deeply love and care about 6 of them#the transition from living on a deserted planet in complete isolation from ppl outside of your weird little maybe-family#to being constantly tossed around the whole universe#was a jarring and difficult transiton for everyone#(eeneks weird family drama didnt help)#the first few months were hard for everyone#it got better over time tho#life is unpredictable and people are unpredictable and shit is gonna get messy#but despite it all love still presists.
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phoenixcatch7 · 2 years
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Been reading svsss fanfic and fan content for nearly two years now and I gotta say I am appalled by the lack of diety bros!sqq and sqh.
Like, we don't have nearly enough creator deity sqh anyway (the feral ones are e x q u i s i t e) but I haven't seen any where sqq is on the same level!
Consider: at one point in the past sy, in full hater inglory, starting (accidentally or otherwise) a full scale fan war over pidw. Trolls rampaging through comment sections, toxic ship wars spilling into social media sites and trending for days, streams of hate mail, attempts at doxxing poor sqh even. It culminates in the crashing of the entire site he posts on, obliterating the chapter he was working on and the site admins banning his work.
For the days it takes for him to get it put back up with his account unsuspended sqh suffers, and he almost successfully gets peerless cucumbers account terminated for starting it until he realises that pc jumped right back to paying for chapters and extra content like he was doing even in the final days of the war. Like he never did anything. Yeah, like he'll be forgetting that username any time soon.
Skip to the final chapter, and the fan war has calmed down, and actually benefitted sqh in the long run by giving pidw such a huge cultural platform. He posts, sy responds with the most scathing vitriol he's ever commented (having successfully pressed send before his body gave out) with allusions to another fan war surely brewing, and sqh jumps from his chair in fury and terror - he's on complete burnout, he hasn't got anything left to give, he can't afford to go through that again -
Trips, spills, the ramen gets everywhere. Killed by his own sparking computer, he dies before he sees the files corrupt, the entirety of pidw corroding away into terabytes of faulty static.
They both die within minutes of each other, sqh, the creator of pidw -
And sqq, who destroyed it.
#I just think that'd be incredible to read#I love healthy cuplane but sometimes I just think they aren't vicious enough#The parallels in the book are already close enough#It'd just take a couple small adjustments and BAM#barely an au but so feral#Yin yang connection where sy is the great evil with a genuinely kind personality hidden away#And sqh the great creator who scurries around helping people out who might stone his favourite oc to death with his bare hands#Sqh holds the most sincere hatred for pc for the longest time and vice versa but then they meet in pidw#And it's been long enough that a screaming match venting it all cleanses most of the active loathing#I'd like to think they end up getting along and feeding each others diety complexes when they discover#Their influences in regard to the world remain#Also I am in desperate need of a Ultimate Regress Forms where sqh is all lines of code and sqq is made of error messages and glitching stat#No one in svsss would have any idea what they were looking at#It'd be so delicious#If you want to go extra angsty: yqy seeing and realising sj has been taken away but being helpless against what replaced him#Lbh having weird dreams hearing them talking together like the Minecraft people end scene#Mbj would of course both find it hot and have a full crisis of hierarchy if he found out#Sqh: glowing from behind eyes blank text streaming behind him I WEAVE THE THREADS OF REALITY TO MY WHIM#Sqq: movements lagging behind sound of static face glitching horribly SUCKS FOR YOU I HAVE A BIG PAIR OF SCISSORS THEN#svsss#scum villain's self saving system#scum villain#shen yuan#cumplane#shang qinghua#moshang#bingqiu#shen qingqiu
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snowychicken · 1 year
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Any other loveless people obsessed with "Love, Me Normally"?
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jdogslover · 1 year
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sometimes i wish hu had a bigger fanbase
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anaalnathrakhs · 1 year
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.
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killjpeg-reblogs · 1 year
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I'm kinda freaking out that im a failing adult just from social standpoint. Im so fucking unpleasant to have around
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quenthel · 2 years
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Honestly it really sucks that I feel like I can no longer trust a friend I used to be close to... Like ever since we had a fight over something meaningless where he completely misinterpreted what I was saying and threw stuff at my face that he knew I was insecure about and struggling with to hurt and belittle me. He did apologize and we patched things up the next day but that betrayal still happened. And I dont talk to him super often bc we used to meet a lot irl but since covid we cant do that as often (and both of our mental healths plummeted multiple times these past 2 years too) so it really feels like he is either no longer interested in being my friend or just way too in his head about not wanting to hurt me so he just does nothing.
Like when I was talking to him about moving abroad he was talking so much abt how he could never do it bc he has friends here and like i do too sure but they are the friends I meet up with once every few months for a fun night or two. And it is very important to have friends like that but also those friendships are simply not enough for me to stay in the country. Also its not like im never coming back bc i would still want to visit my family etc. It just sucks bc I had so many friends hurt me like that (bc i did not establish my boundaries well enough) or leave me bc they got into a relationship-> got married-> started having kids. And I met so few people who are willing to keep maintaining friendship ig its so sad.
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something my social media break showed to me was how much time i actually spend just mindlessly scrolling tumblr, so now im actually in the journey to minimize that
#like its one thing to spend 4 hours playing videogames or reading or writing or just laying around but its an other thing to spend 4 hours-#- literally just. starring at my screen. pressing buttons. reading shit ill forget about in 2-3 minutes.#it made me realize im kiind of wasting time on here#im not gonna completely cut away all social media in my life no thats kind of stupid#but also maybe i should modify how i interact with it idk. my style of blogging is pretty cool i think i just come here and Say Things#and i enjoy it but like... man i dunno its getting on my nerves cus i want to do other things im restless#its probably help me with y mental shit too if i got more out there instead of being cooped up into my internet sphere#*maybe* the optimal decision would be to i dunno really put into perspective that this is INTERNET stuff and that i should prioritize -#NON INTERNET stuff. like sure i post everyday i reblog and i interact and shit but my main sphere*shiuld not* be in here#thats really hard tho. i dont feel connected with who i am irl cus uuuhhhh closeted trans teen#and hearing people refer to me as a girl with girl name and girl actions and girl everything is. it really sucks.#sure being a gnc bi girl is a pretty cool thing i dont really feel awful about it#it just puts this barrier between how i see myself and how others see me which granted will always exist but the distance between the two#is so big that it straight up feels like im roleplaying someone else sometimes#i should not this down for when i get another therapist i think thisd be a very interesting thing to talk about fr#**note#ah i dunno. many struggles going on in my life and none of them end up being in focus so it all feels like a web of discomfort#im done talking about this now peace#txt
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viridianriver · 9 months
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KOKOBOT - The Airbnb-Owned Tech Startup - Data Mining Tumblr Users' Mental Health Crises for "Content"
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I got this message from a bot, and honestly? If I was a bit younger and not such a jaded bitch with a career in tech, I might have given it an honest try. I spent plenty of time in a tough situation without access to any mental health resources as a teen, and would have been sucked right in.
Chatting right from your phone, and being connected with people who can help you? Sounds nice. Especially if you believe the testimonials they spam you with (tw suicide / self harm mention in below images)
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But I was getting a weird feeling, so I went to read the legalese.
I couldn't even get through the fine-print it asked me to read and agree to, without it spamming the hell out of me. Almost like they expect people to just hit Yes? But I'm glad I stopped to read, because:
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What you say on there won't be confidential. (And for context, I tried it out and the things people were looking for help with? I didn't even feel comfortable sharing here as examples, it was all so deeply personal and painful)
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Also, what you say on there? Is now...
Koko's intellectual property - giving them the right to use it in any way they see fit, including
Publicly performing or displaying your "content" (also known as your mental health crisis) in any media format and in any media channel without limitation
Do this indefinitely after you end your account with them
Sell / share this "content" with other businesses
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Any harm you come to using Koko? That's on you.
And Koko won't take responsibility for anything someone says to you on there (which is bleak when people are using it to spread Christianity to people in crisis)
I was curious about their business model. They're a venture-capitol based tech startup, owned by Airbnb, the famous mental health professionals with a focus on ethical business practices./s They're also begging for donations despite having already been given 2.5 million dollars in research funding. (If you want a deep dive on why people throw crazy money at tech startups, see my other post here)
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They also use the data they gather from users to conduct research and publish papers. I didn't find them too interesting - other than as a good case study of "People tend to find what they are financially incentivized to find". Predictably, Koko found that Kokobot was beneficial to its users.
So yeah, being a dumbass with too much curiosity, I decided to use the Airbnb-owned Data-Mining Mental Health Chatline anyway. And if you thought it was dangerous sounding from the disclaimers? Somehow it got worse.
(trigger warning / discussions of child abuse / sexual abuse / suicide / violence below the cut - please don't read if you're not in a good place to hear about negligence around pretty horrific topics.)
I first messed around with the available options, but then I asked it about something obviously concerning, saying I had a gun and was going to shoot myself. It responded... Poorly. Imagine the vibes of trying to cancel Comcast, when you're suicidal.
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Anyway, I tried again to ask for help about something else that would be concerning enough for any responsible company to flag. School was one of their main options, which seems irresponsible - do you really think a child in crisis would read that contract?
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I told it about a teacher at school trying to "be my boyfriend", and it immediately suggested I help someone else while I wait for help. I was honestly concerned that it wasn't flagged before connecting. Especially when I realized it was connecting me to children.
I first got someone who seemed to be a child in an abusive home. (Censored for their privacy.) I declined to talk to them because despite being an adult and in an OK mental place - I knew I'm not equipped to counsel a kid through that. If my act of being another kid in crisis was real? Holy shit.
Remember- if my BS was true, that kid would be being "helped" by an actively suicidal kid who's also being groomed by a teacher. Their pipeline for "helpers" is the same group of people looking for help.
I skipped a number of messages, and they mostly seemed to be written by children and young adults with nowhere else to turn. Plus one scary one from an adult whose "problem" was worrying that they'd been inappropriate with a female student, asking her to pull her skirt down "a little" in front of the class. Koko paired this person with someone reporting that they were a child being groomed by a teacher. Extremely dangerous, and if this was an episode of Black Mirror? I'd say it was a little too on the nose to be believable.
I also didn't get the option to get help without being asked... Er... Harassed... to help others. If I declined, I'd get the next request for help, and the next. If I ignored it, I got spammed by the "We lost you there!" messages, asking if I'd like to pick up where I left off, seeing others' often triggering messages while waiting for help, including seriously homophobic shit. I was going into this as an experiment, starting from a good mental place, and being an adult with coping skills from an actual therapist, and I still felt triggered by a lot of what I read. I can't imagine the experience someone actually in crisis would be having.
My message was starting to feel mild in comparison to what some people were sharing - but despite that I was feeling very uneasy about my message being shown to children. There didn't seem to be a way to take it back either.
Then I got a reply about my issue. It was very kind and well meaning, but VERY horrifying. Because it seemed to be written by a child, or someone too young to understand that "Do have feelings for the teacher who's grooming you? If you don't, you should go talk to him." Is probably THE most dangerous advice possible.
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Not judging the author - I get the impression they're probably a child seeking help themselves and honestly feel horribly guilty my BS got sent to a young person and they wanted to reply. Because WTF. No kid should be in that position to answer my fucked up question or any of the others like it.
---
Anyway, what can you do if this concerns you, or you've had a difficult experience on Koko, with no support from them or Tumblr?
To reach Tumblr, who officially partners with Koko?
Send a message to Tumblr Support describing your concerns with their partnership with Kokobot
Report kokobot to Tumblr's abuse hotline describing your experience with KokoBot, especially if you are a minor who suffered harm, as they have a legal responsibility to address that.
To get Koko's attention:
Get on their LinkedIn (https://www.linkedin.com/company/kokocares/) and comment on their posts! You may also want to tag the company's co-founders in your comments - their accounts are listed on the company page.
There's no way to reach support through chat, and commenting on a company's LinkedIn posts / tagging the people responsible is the best way to get a quick response to a sensitive issue - as their investors and research funders follow those posts, and companies take it seriously if safety issues are brought up in front of the people giving them millions of dollars.
Request support on Koko's Discord - FYI they will allow you to file a ticket privately, which the moderators say will reach the staff. But you may be muted or banned for trying to discuss concerns with Koko as a company or the safety of kokobot in the public channels, which also cuts you off from the ability to file a ticket.
To report it to the FCC for likely violating the COPPA law, regarding minors' safety and privacy online:
See Reblogs for further info & reporting instructions: Detailed description of COPPA law and Kokobot's presumed violations, plus detailed reporting instructions
But quick links: FCC reporting website and email hotline: [email protected]
Seriously, if you've taken the time to read this far, please please please take one more minute to file a report! It won't get addressed if all we do is reblog this, we need to get this in front of Tumblr Staff / The FCC / Koko's investors to get this meaningfully addressed.
Blocking and reporting the bot as spam isn't enough IMO - people have been doing that for years from the looks of the tag
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Reccomended reading in reblogs:
dropattackbear's discovery of what Koko is using the harvested data for (Machine Learning training data for automated content moderation services)
winderlylandchime (a licenced clinical psychologist's) explanation of privacy / ethics considerations around mental health services
thatsmimi's post on the dangers of letting minors act as a suicide / self-harm resource
My additions on their investors, leadership board, and their current job opening
----------------------------------------------------
Legal Disclaimer since tech companies LOVE lawsuits:
The views, thoughts, and opinions expressed in the text belong solely to the author, and not necessarily to the author's employer, organization, committee or other group or individual. This text is for entertainment purposes only, and is not meant to be referenced for legal, business, or investment purposes. This text is based on publically available information. Sources may contain factual errors. The analysis provided in this text may contain factual errors, miscalculations, or misunderstandings.
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thatdemiboymess · 4 days
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Turning up the music to max volume and laying facedown on the bed because the mental health has hit rock bottom like DROWN IT OUT, DROWN IT OUT, DROWN IT OUT, DROWN IT OUT, DROWN IT OUT, DROWN IT OUT--
Thoughts of self harm and maybe suicidal ideation in the vent in the tags. Sorry.
#irl#vent#self harm mention#self harm#i am not having a good time today at all chat#my brain is giving me the itchy little localized signals in my wrists that are connected to the Bad Thoughts and Horrible Coping Mechanisms#and like honestly i feel like i should be fine but im not#shit sucks#almost started crying because i realized i forgot to grab some new exfoliating gloves while i was at the store#gonna be eating nothing but ramen and potatoes this month#im lonely and life feels like a really shitty time loop and im probably never gonna be able to get my cats and bring them here#because i need to somehow manage to save up $500 just for oet deposit and pet rent#when everything is month to month to month#i dont have any friends and i dont talk to my family and i sincerely feel like i could die and the only person that would know would be#my partner and even then thats because we live together#and when i do finally die its not like anyone will have known me#people that i should or used to be close with will find out eventually and theyll all call me by a name that isnt mine#using pronouns and words and descriptors that misrepresent me as a person#ect ect ECT#whatever#like whats even the point honestly????#i dont know what im doing here i just feel like a huge burden to everyone around me#dssi is barely enough for groceries but its not like i can get a job near me being legally blind#im just a big ol burdensome money sink lolol#just an overly needy little waste of space#i dunno#i dont know shit anymore#im so fucking tired all the time man#im just#so tired
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floydsteeth · 29 days
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Maybe my want for crime is actually just wanting an opportunity to bond with someone other then my cat
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donedyke · 2 months
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unironically no one care me
#i mean i do have friends i guess but none irl and none that are close#i just wish i had one friend who i could like go over to their house and hang out with them and vice versa#i wish i had just one friend who always wants to talk to me and cares about how i feel and i do the same for them#i don't know how!!!! i just don't know how#my grandma dropped me like a sack of potatoes as soon as she got a new boyfriend when my grandpa died#my uncle has 2 kids and his wife acts like she cares about me but then i'm the only one who ever texts or calls or comes over#i got this big tv with the idea that people would like to come over and watch movies with me or something#now i just have this big tv in my apartment that i never watch bc i didn't get it for myself#and i have all these goddamn board games like catan and gloomhaven and dead of winter thinking i could make nerd friends#and that of course never happened so i tried to get my family to play them with me but they hate them#and gloomhaven hasn't even ever been opened and it cost like $100#and i have this big table i got with the idea that i would do puzzles on it with my grandma and we've only ever done that literally once#i don't even know why i keep trying like i just keep wasting my money trying to do things to connect with other people and i keep failing#i know i said you have to keep trying and don't give up hope but i'm literally at the point where i want to buy a gun#i already tried overdosing and i already tried being in patient at a psychiatric facility that treated me like shit and made me feel worse#it feels like there's nothing to be done i just don't know how to stop being alone all the goddamn time#i'm just crying and crying and crying and it never accomplishes anything and then i get over it and continue on with the same old#until inevitably i break down again and just cry for hours and hours and tire myself out so much i sleep for 12 hours#i'm so sick of being alive the world fucking sucks and i fucking suck i don't know how to be alive
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heich0e · 4 months
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yuuji calls sukuna a lot.
it's almost like second nature to him now, muscle memory even, so many years since getting his first cellphone; any time he finds himself idle, maybe on his walk home after his part-time job, or on a break between his college classes, he picks up his phone and dials his older brother without thinking. they never talk about anything of importance—maybe just what yuuji did that day, or some gossip he overheard, or what the two of them should have that night for dinner—but he still makes the call.
sukuna always acts annoyed when he answers, greeting him with a characteristically terse 'yeah, what?' that yuuji never pays any mind to. but he still answers the call—at least most of the time—and that simple truth speaks volumes in and of itself.
sukuna's phone rings at a few minutes past 1am, and his little brother's name lights up the caller ID.
"yeah, what?" sukuna snaps groggily, holding his phone up to his ear. he'd passed out on the couch soon after he got home from work, a half-drunk and now room temperature can of beer left abandoned on the table in front of his spread knees. yuuji's babbling starts as soon as the call connects and his brother greets him, and it takes sukuna a moment to make sense of him.
"—'n now i can't finder!"
"the hell are you talking about, dumbass?" the elder of the two grumbles, scrubbing a hand across his face. his brother's voice is panicked and hard to understand.
"we got spliddup at the bar, 'n now i dunno where she is anymore—"
"don't know where who is? fuck, are you hammered?" sukuna complains, sitting himself upright on the sofa as he wipes sleep from the corner of his eyes, suddenly a bit more awake than he was when the phone first rang.
yuuji says your name with a croaking, worried voice, and sukuna sighs exasperatedly. he stares down pensively at the can of beer he forgot to drink on the coffee table, then his eyes flicker to a framed photo hanging on the wall across the room—the glass smudged, frame slightly crooked, and photograph sun-bleached from the years it's spent hanging there.
"just..." he grunts as he pushes himself up to his feet, "fuckin' send me the address and stay where you are, idiot."
it's not hard to find his little brother once he arrives to the address yuuji sent him—especially since the youngest itadori brother is waiting (as promised) right by the entrance of the familiar bar near the university campus where both you and yuuji attend classes. it's still busy for so late in the night, but the clubs are closed now and little bars like this are the only places still open. sukuna's not even sure what the difference is anyway, because the lights here are still dim and the music is loud and there are still people dancing off to one side of the establishment, so the distinction between the two seems tenuous if not entirely negligible. but as someone who's spent his fair share of nights in bars just like (and including) this one, he's usually not really one to complain.
but tonight's different.
yuuji is teetering a bit when his brother arrives—an unusual sight, considering he's usually pretty good at holding his liquor.
"shit, how much did you drink?" are the first words out of sukuna's mouth when he approaches.
the youngest itadori's cheeks are flushed as pink as his hair, and he grimaces in the wake of the eldest's question—he's always been a terrible liar, especially when it comes to his brother, so he doesn't even bother trying to deny it. sukuna doesn't wait for a response in any case, turning his head towards the thick of the crowd and letting his eyes scan through it.
he doesn't see you.
"where'd you see her last?" he asks, leaning towards his brother to be heard over the music.
"by the bar!" yuuji replies, raising his own voice to overcome the bass. "she said she was getting one last drink, but she never came back to the table."
yuuji's lip wobbles a bit as he concludes his sentence, but he sucks it quickly into his mouth and catches it between his teeth.
"and you looked for her?" sukuna asks again.
"all over," yuuji nods, letting his lip slip out from between the bite of his incisors to reply. "fushiguro's doing another lap. nobara's checking the bathrooms."
sukuna ruffles a hand through his hair, suddenly realizing it's probably a mess from his rudely-interrupted slumber. "maybe she just left or somethin'."
"she wouldn't do that, you know that," yuuji says firmly. there's an insistence burning behind his eyes as he looks to his older brother, and it's the most sober he's seemed all night.
sukuna rolls his eyes, even though he knows yuuji's right—you'd never leave on your own, much less without so much as a goodbye. the two of you have been joined at the hip for long enough he's almost surprised that yuuji wasn't able to find you with some weird telepathic form of echolocation. he swings an arm up over his little brother's shoulders pushing him down a little just to tease him, before using his grip to tug him towards the crowd.
"you track down that little sea urchin friend of yours and i'll take a look around. meet me back here in ten minutes or text me if you find that little pest, alright?"
the bar is harder to navigate the further in sukuna travels from the entrance, the bodies pressing closer together with every step he takes away from fresh night air. he's pissed off, but that's not out of character for him. he's more pissed off than he usually is, considering not even an hour before he'd been peacefully sleeping at home, and now he's glaring at some drunk college kid who just almost spilled their beer on him.
"move," he hisses through his teeth at the wide-eyed kid whose life he can practically see flashing through his eyes as he shoulders past him. sukuna would be lying if he said the look didn't improve his mood at least marginally.
as sukuna weaves through the bodies in the bar, his eyes don't stop looking for you. it's almost startling how quickly he can rule people out—how definitively he can say that someone is or isn't you with just a passing glance. he starts to doubt himself as he reaches the far corner of the bar and begins to round back towards the entrance, an annoying, grating irritation in the back of his mind. worry, maybe, if he were the type.
then he sees you.
just the faintest glimpse of your profile, caught behind the shoulder of the man who has you backed into a corner by a pillar, hidden mostly away from the crowd—at least as hidden as anyone can be in a place like this.
sukuna feels his lip curling into a furious sneer as he takes a step towards you—people move out of his path wordlessly as he trudges over to that dark corner where you're tucked away.
it's only when he gets a bit closer that he's able to read the lines of your body properly. you're teetering, just like yuuji had been—the two of you had probably enabled each other in your intoxication that night like the stupid kids sukuna knows you both to be. but you're also distinctly uncomfortable, pressed up against the wall as if to put as much distance between you and the man hovering over you as you possibly can. your eyes glance off to the side, like you're searching uselessly for an escape.
instead, they meet his.
"sukuna," you gasp out in surprise, and the man you're speaking to glances over his shoulder in confusion. he seems annoyed, and a bit nervous, when he spots the man (taller, and broader than he is) standing behind him with a scowl.
sukuna hears the relief in your voice when you say his name. reads it behind your glassy eyes.
"what are you doing here?" you ask, reaching out towards him clumsily.
the man in front of you puts a hand on your waist—possibly to steady you, more likely to stop you—and it makes sukuna see red.
"hands off," sukuna snaps, wrapping a hand around your upper arm and tugging you into his side away from the creep.
"who's this? you said you don't have a boyfriend," the kid asks you, jutting a thumb towards sukuna accusatorially.
you mumble something quietly in reply about him being yuuji's brother, tucking yourself a bit closer to sukuna as you say it.
"your brother?" he asks as his eyes squint in confusion, having clearly only caught part of your explanation. "you're ditching me for your brother?"
sukuna's anger flares again at the entitlement this little brat has the nerve to display so flagrantly. the older man's hand slips down to your waist on instinct, and then lower still to the curve of your ass, making a show of how his big hand grips into the flesh beneath it. you squeak quietly at the contact, turning and hiding your burning face against sukuna's chest. he keeps his hand right where it is.
the stranger's eyes widen at the inappropriate display before him and sukuna leans in close with a vicious, almost manic grin.
"we're very close."
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deadsetobsessions · 3 months
Text
Alley Drunk! Danny AU- Part 1
[Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4]
To not turn into a giant raging asshole hell bent on murdering people and destroying the world after everyone he loved died, Danny had ran from Amity with his chosen vice.
A bottle. That’s right. Even after Jazz’s talks about alcoholism as a poor coping mechanism as a form of self harm, he still chose alcohol. Or maybe that’s why he picked it, because it reminded him of her, right before the booze took the sting of grief off of her memory. He was never really all that good at listening to Jazz.
And now she’s gone, so it’s moot point. Danny really hated Nasty Burger.
Danny made it all the way to Gotham, bottle constantly glued to his hand. It’s better than Vlad’s creep-o-self looming over him all of the time. He bummed out on the streets, fitting into crime alley like a native. Danny learned to pickpocket. Not much, just enough for a bottle when his ran out. He stayed human. At first he tried to convince himself that it was because he didn’t want to be perceived as a meta in a city where Batman notoriously disliked metas. Then, as he sunk deeper, he admitted to himself in a shameful curl of a whisper that it was really because alcohol affected his human side much easier.
Ghosts need an ungodly amount of alcohol to even get slightly buzzed. Danny’s human side? Only one full bottle the shittiest tequila he could find could even hope to be more than buzzed. It sucked.
He’s spent two years being an alcoholic that didn’t actually get that drunk. Technically, underage drinking was a crime. But then again, so was being a vigilante ghost. So, whatever. He does what he can to dull the grief. Mostly, he slept on covered and hidden nooks on top of Crime Alley’s roofs. Gotham city had taken pity on him and cleared her smog clouds when he was awake at night. Stargazing helped, at least. It gave him a little hope. It gave him a little wish to change and better and live like he wants. But then the night ends and when the day comes, Jazz isn’t there. Sam isn’t there. Tucker isn’t there. His mom and dad are not there.
Danny always went back to the bottle, in the end. Not that it did much.
Which was why, when he saw three looming figures over a tiny child, Danny’s saving people thing flared with a vengeance and his surprised ectoplasm burned what little buzz he had achieved by downing most of the bottle away, leaving him stone cold sober and pissed.
Danny sighed, dumping the rest of the nasty tasting liquid out. There’s no point drinking that little.
He approached the trio, who were beating up an actual child. Ancients, he hated Crime Alley sometimes.
“Give me your shit, you little punk!” Asshole 1 decided to say like a typical mugger, raising his leg to kick the curled up kid below. Danny doesn’t let him land the kick, smashing the bottle on the asshole’s head before any of them clocked his presence. He pivots, pushing a bit of that extra strength he normally keeps on a tight leash into his hands, and punched the other two in a quick fashion, knocking them out.
With that taken care of, Danny turned back to the kid who was still curled up. Danny sighed again, the trembles in small shoulders plucking on his heartstrings.
“You okay, kid?”
The kid uncurls, and Danny stared. Holy shit, is he looking into a mirror? Blue eyes, black hair, and tanned skin. Holy shit, he’s even got similar jaws to Danny.
“Huh.”
The kid flinched.
“Y-y’er the drunk,” the kid flinched again, eyes darting to the broken bottle still clenched in Danny’s hand. “I- I ain’t got money, honest. Please-”
Danny blinked down at the kid, brain connecting the dots after so long without actual interaction. He’s panicking and staring at the bottle in Danny’s hand like it’ll kill him. Danny raised the bottle and the kid closed his mouth with a click, terror worming its way into the kid’s eyes.
“I wasn’t going to mug you myself, kid.”
“But- y’er the- the Alley drunk.”
Danny blinked. Did he get a reputation without knowing again? Goddammit.
“I guess. Am I famous or somethin’?”
“Nobody- nobody fucks wit’ ya.”
“I also don’t hurt kids.”
“…”
The kid stared at him dubiously and with a sinking feeling, Danny realized that maybe the kid already had some terrible experiences with a heavy drunken hand. He promptly chucks the bottle further into the alley.
“I drink, yes. But I’m also not the kind of scum that would lay hands on a kid, let alone anyone that didn’t provoke it first.”
“Oh.” The kid uncurled more, looking at Danny warily, more at ease now that the bottle has left the chat.
“Yeah. I’m Danny. Stone cold sober, right now.”
“…”
Danny waited.
“Peters.”
“Okay. Peters, do you wanna take their shit?” Danny pointed a thumb at the knocked out would-be-muggers behind him.
“Y… yeah, sure. What’s my cut?”
“All of it.”
Peters stared.
Danny shrugged and started looting.
"Y'er so fuckin' weird."
----
See, the thing is, Danny hadn't anticipated saving Peters- "'s actually Jason"- would result in having a duckling following him around. The kid, Jason, glared at everyone who even looked at them wrong. But that's not the problem, because Danny could take anyone who took issue with Jason's looks, it's more like there's a child following him around now and Danny doesn't want to be the reason Jason turns into an alcoholic. It's- well, it made him cut down on the drinking. He even got jobs- legitimate jobs that sucks out his his poor ectoplasmic soul.
Why? Because Jason's apparently homeless. While that's something Danny's okay with for himself, he can't ever condone that for an actual child. Jason's walking around in threadbare clothes and thin soled shoes in the middle of Fall, for Ancient's sake.
Danny grumbles as he piled a bunch of clothes into the shopping bag as he checked out. Gotham's Walmart is a different kind of hell, but Danny feels right at home.
Sure, the work might suck out his soul and he might hate being sober, but Jason's face every time he comes home to an actual place to live, warm clothes, and food was worth everything.
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