#it is not 'invalidating' to be like hey actually no that's not how DID works

[steddiehyperfixation]

don't you forget about me (part eight; final)

(part one)(part two)(part three)(part four)(part five)(part six)(part seven) (ao3 link)

It was an “if” if Eddie would actually be discharged today, but now, after some more poking and prodding, he's finally on his way home with prescriptions for pain meds and physical therapy. 

Wayne helps him up the three creaky, beautifully familiar stairs into the trailer, and Eddie collapses onto the old, beautifully familiar couch the second he gets inside. The weary groan he lets out is only slightly over-dramatized. “I feel like an 80 year old man,” he complains, entire body sore and aching to the bone already. “Now I know how you feel.”

“Oi, I ain't that old,” Wayne protests. When Eddie snorts derisively, Wayne rolls his eyes and chuckles. “Alright, fine, so we both got creaky knees now. You, at least, will be young and spry again in no time, though,” his uncle tells him. “Just get some rest, old man.” 

Eddie heaves a great big sigh, takes another breath to steel himself, and then does just the opposite of that. 

“What did I just say?” Wayne mutters as Eddie moves to stand again. 

“I said I’d call Steve,” Eddie says. Steve had to go to work, but he'd told Eddie that morning to call him if he ended up making it home today. “I’ll dip out of work and come hang out, help you settle in, if you want,” Steve had said. 

Wayne offers, “I can call him for you.” 

“No, no, I got it,” Eddie insists, words broken by a grunt as he hauls himself back to his feet. “I can make it to the phone, Wayne, I'm not a complete invalid.”

“Alright.” Wayne raises his hands in defeat and backs off. He’s never been one to hover. “You just shout if you need me.” 

Eddie limps - slowly, painfully, with difficulty - to the phone on the wall by the tiny dining table they never use, the surface littered instead with unopened mail and haphazard papers scribbled with notes and reminders and important phone numbers. He leans heavily against the table as he paws through the piles trying to find a note of Steve's number. Eddie finds it buried deep, probably long since memorized by now before his memory got erased, but there it is: a notepad paper with Steve's name scrawled on it and two phone numbers written underneath, home and work. 

“Bingo.” Eddie grabs the paper, takes the phone off the hook, and dials the work number. 

The phone rings a couple times, and then: “Family Video. How can I help you?” 

“Hey, Stevie.” Eddie smiles at the sound of his voice, as if he hadn't literally just heard it only a few hours ago. 

“Eddie!” Steve's bored customer service voice brightens. “Are you home? How are you feeling?” 

“Yeah, I’m home. I’m alright. I mean, I’m bone-fucking-tired and feel about a million years old, but it's really really good to be back,” Eddie says honestly. He adds, “I’m under strict orders to rest, though - gonna be bored out of my mind, so I could use the company if you were serious about ditching work for me.” 

“Of course I was serious,” replies Steve. “It's a slow day today anyways.” 

Eddie grins. “Get your sweet ass over here then.” 

A smile is evident in Steve's voice too. “I'll be there in ten.” 

Eddie hangs up, tries his best to wipe this stupid lovesick grin off his face. He stumbles his way down the hall to his room next, flicking on some music from the cassette player on his dresser and looking around. His room is just as beautifully familiar as the rest of the trailer, not much changed from the way he last remembers it. The same music and D&D shit clutter his surfaces, the same posters clutter his walls. His bed is unmade, clothes litter the floor, same as always.

The only differences: his beloved electric guitar no longer hangs on the wall by the mirror (he was told, devastatingly, that she hadn't survived her trip to the Upside Down), and there are photographs he doesn't recognize taped up around the corners of that mirror. Eddie staggers over to get a closer look, only to first be momentarily jumpscared by his own reflection. His face is pale, eyes sunken, and his hair frizzes out in a greasy, tangled mess around his head, unwashed and unbrushed for who knows how long. Gross, but whatever. He manages to ignore his sickly appearance and inspects the pictures he had apparently deemed important enough to stick to the edges of his mirror. 

There are photos of Eddie smiling with Hellfire and his band and the kids, in large groups and small groups, with old friends he remembers and newer ones he doesn't quite. But what catches his attention the most is a photobooth strip of him and Steve. The first picture shows the two of them grinning, arms slung around each other’s shoulders; the second, a silly face photo, Eddie sticking out his tongue and Steve crossing his eyes; the third, Eddie giving Steve devil horns while Steve laughs; and the fourth- 

Eddie plucks the strip off the mirror, stumbles, so taken aback he trips over his own lame feet until he plops down heavily onto his bed, and he stares. He stares at the last image in the row, which depicts - clear as day and undeniably real, immortalized in ink on photo paper - Steve kissing Eddie, tender hand on his cheek, both of them smiling against each other’s lips.

He stares and he stares and he stares. And the longer he stares the more he can almost feel it, taste it, see the events of that photo strip playing out in his mind’s eye like a waking dream. Like a memory. 

~ 

Steve pulls up to the trailer, the one with the metal music blaring from somewhere inside that announces to the whole park that Eddie Munson is back home. He smiles at the sound, gets out of his car and bounds toward it. 

It's Wayne who lets him in when Steve knocks on the door. “He's in his room,” the older man tells him as he steps aside to let Steve in. “Make sure he's stayin’ off his feet, will you? ‘Cause lord knows he won't listen to me.” 

“Yeah, I got it,” Steve says, and his tone and his smile say I got him. Wayne nods. 

Steve makes his way down the hall to Eddie’s room. He raps his knuckles against the door first, but he doubts that can even be heard over the music so he pushes it open without waiting for a response. “Hey, Ed-” Steve starts, only to falter when he sees Eddie sitting statue-still on the edge of his bed, eyes boring holes into a photo strip of the two of them together. “Oh.” 

Eddie blinks, expression unreadable as he looks up and over at Steve. “Why didn't you tell me?” 

“I-” Steve doesn't know what to say, what he should say. His veins buzz with a nauseating mix of hope and anxiety and it's making him feel a bit sick. He takes a deep breath, turns down the music so he can think. “I wanted to. I just- I thought it would freak you out. You didn't know me. I didn't want to force anything on you.” 

“So…we were together,” Eddie says slowly. “For how long?” 

“Since July.” Steve’s desperately searching Eddie’s face for something, anything, to clue him in to what Eddie’s thinking or feeling right now. “Are- are you freaked out? Because you look a little freaked out.” 

“I’m not freaked out,” Eddie says, and it's almost convincing. “I'm just…processing.” 

“Oh-kay…” Steve breathes out, leaning cautiously against the doorframe, still hovering by the exit just in case Eddie decides he doesn't want him there anymore once he's finished processing.

“I’ve, uh-” Eddie looks back down at the photo strip he holds in his hands and takes a breath. “I’ve been remembering some things, you know, little things - in dreams - about us. But I- I thought I just had a crush or something, because I thought if all of that was real, if we had really been that happy - that…in love - then you would've said something. You would've told me.” 

When Eddie's eyes meet his again, Steve realizes he'd misread his expression before. Eddie's not freaked, he's upset, hurt, not because of what he's learned but because it was kept from him. Of all the worst-case scenarios Steve's spiraling mind had come up with over the past couple weeks, he had not considered this one. So preoccupied with his own angst over being forgotten and fear of being unwanted, Steve hadn't thought to consider that him hiding the true nature of their past might make Eddie feel unwanted too. That's the last thing Steve wants; the ache of that trumps any other ache he feels. 

“Eddie, I’m sorry. I just- you didn't know me, and I panicked; I didn't think, or-or I thought too much, but I should've just told you.” Steve pushes off from the doorway and goes to sit beside Eddie, because he can't stand Eddie looking at him with those big doe eyes and not being close to him. He leaves a bit of space, barely holds himself back from taking hold of Eddie's hand. “Because it was real, all the things you've been remembering. It was real- it is real, and I’m so sorry I didn't tell you.” 

Eddie is uncharacteristically quiet for a moment. His gaze flicks him up and down and across his face, and then Eddie grabs him, hands dropping the photo strip to instead clutch at Steve's cheek and jaw as he pulls him in and kisses him. As their lips slide together, familiar, the both of them sigh into the kiss. Steve feels a bursting in his heart, so similar to the way it felt the very first time they’d done this: the giddiness of reciprocation, the intuition that this is right. 

When Eddie pulls back after a few long moments, something is changed, something returned. Steve watches Eddie’s eyes flutter open; and when they do, for the first time since he'd woken up in that hospital bed, Eddie sees him, knows him, loves him. 

“How could I ever have forgotten that?” Eddie says, almost whispered, running his thumb across Steve's cheekbone. “How could I ever have forgotten you?” 

Steve could cry. Tears made of relief and joy blur his vision, because Eddie is looking at him with all the tenderness he'd been missing these past weeks, the painful emptiness of before now filled. It's all back. His Eddie is back. Steve pitches forward and hugs him bodily. Eddie returns the embrace; Steve sinks into his arms and it feels like coming home. 

He closes his misty eyes, buries his face in the crook of Eddie's neck and the tangles of his hair, and he breathes him in, clinging onto him like Eddie might just disappear if Steve ever let go. Eddie holds him just as close, one arm wrapped firm around Steve's waist while his other hand cradles the back of Steve's head and strokes his hair. Steve soaks in every touch, feels every place where they are pressed against each other, so warm and safe and loving after so long without it. He is whole again in the arms of the man he loves.  

“I missed you,” Steve mutters, lips brushing against the skin of Eddie's neck as he speaks, muffled. 

“I know, Stevie,” Eddie murmurs, “my Stevie, I’m so sorry.” 

“S’okay. It wasn't your fault,” Steve mumbles, and he thinks maybe they both need to stop apologizing for this. 

Eddie must think the same, because he says, “And it wasn't yours either,” like he knows every twisted, guilty thought that's been haunting Steve lately and he absolves him of them. He tugs gently at Steve’s hair to get him to lift his head and look him in the eyes. “You know that, right?” 

“Yeah, I know,” Steve says quietly. Eddie reaches up to brush from his cheek a tear Steve didn't even know had fallen, and as he wipes it away he wipes away everything - all blame, all fear, all pain. Eddie had forgotten him, and it sucked, but now he remembers again, and none of that matters anymore. Steve hangs onto Eddie's wrist. “Just-” His voice rasps with emotion, making it rougher. “Don't you ever forget about me again.” 

It's not a promise that can be made with any certainty - anything can happen at any time, just as unexpectedly as it had this time - but Steve doesn't need certainty, he just needs to hear the words, and Eddie gives that to him. “I won't, darling,” he vows, with gentle reassurance. “Never again.”

“Good,” Steve sighs, turning his head into Eddie's hand to press a kiss to the palm. 

The last of his heavier emotions drain out of him then and now he can feel the joy of Eddie's return in its whole entirety. As he rolls his face out of Eddie's hand and settles his eyes on the beautiful boy in front of him, a grin begins to spread across Steve's face; Eddie's smile grows in tandem with his, like he's smiling just because Steve is. Steve says, giddy in full now, “You're back.” 

“Yeah,” Eddie says, lovely and bright, ducking to bump his forehead against Steve's. “I'm back.” 

Steve lets go of Eddie's wrist to tangle a hand in his hair, and he tilts his head up to kiss him again, just because he can, because he's making up for lost time. They draw each other in close once more, lips and bodies moving against each other, easy and natural. Steve could stay right here like this forever, never wants to stop holding him or stop kissing him. 

But a thought - a question - tickles at the base of Steve's skull, and when he does pull back he asks, hopeless romantic that he is, “Just in case - I mean, just so I know - what was it that brought your memory back? Was it like a…true love’s kiss breaking the spell sort of thing?” 

Eddie laughs, gives Steve another quick peck like he always does when Steve says something endearing. “Not quite, Prince Charming,” he responds with a grin so fond Steve thinks his heart might burst. “It was more like…the things I had remembered were just dreams to me, shallow and unreal, but kissing you was like an anchor, a reminder that allowed those dreams to sink in as proper memories and become real.” 

“So…basically it was true love’s kiss,” Steve says cheekily, just to hear Eddie’s laugh again, just to receive another affectionate press of Eddie's lips against his. 

“Yeah, sure,” Eddie concedes, smilingly, never one not to indulge whimsy, “we can call it that.” But then he amends, with a little less levity, “It wasn't exactly a magic cure-all, though. It didn't bring everything back, there are still gaps in my memory.” He looks at Steve with eyes like pools of melted chocolate, soft and endless. “But I remember that I love you; I remember that much.” 

And Steve tells him, “That's enough," and he pulls him in for another true love's kiss.

THE END. taglist: @romanticdestruction @daydreamsandcrashingwaves @paintsplatteredandimperfect @hallucinatedjosten @mugloversonly @estrellami-1 @alongcomesaspider @thatonebadideapanda @tell-me-a-secret-a-nice-one @dragonmama76 @wxrmland @nuggies4life @sirsnacksalot @myguiltyartpleasure @lolawonsstuff @marklee-blackmore @vinteraltus @sebastiansstanswhore @0happyeverafter0 @scarlet-malfoy @hotluncheddie @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @emsgoodthinkin @alyelf @warlordess @stevesbipanic @lil-gremlin-things @rockandrolodex @badcaseofcasey @bat-outta-hel @fandomcartographer @manda-panda-monium @littlewildflowerkitten @giopandaonice @mightbeasleep @queenie-ofthe-void @krazyperson @worldofshea @marvel-ous-m @tartarusknight @a-little-unsteddie @xenon-demon @goodolefashionedloverboi @xxsky-shockxx @mc-i-r @bookbinderbitch @aspenshade88 @slowandsteddie @thedragonsaunt @daydreaming-mood @space-invading-pigeon @irregular-child @a-lovely-craziness (continued in replies)

#and that's all folks! #endings are so hard for me but i hope you guys like this one #huge huge thank you to everyone who's followed along; all the love and support on this has been insane and i am so grateful <3 #steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfiction #steddie fanfic #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #fanfic #mine #dyfamsteddiefic

[dannyphannypack]

Writing ASL: Techniques to Write Signed Dialogue

Hey, guys! I've been reading a lot of DC Batfamily fanfiction lately, and in doing so I realized how little I see of ASL being represented in written text (love you, Cass!). I wanted to briefly talk about tactics to writing American Sign Language (ASL), and ways that these techniques can help improve your writing in more general contexts!

SOME THINGS BEFORE WE GET STARTED

I will be discussing everything in terms of ASL! If you have a character who uses Chinese Sign Language or even British Sign Language, the same rules will not necessarily apply! Don't be afraid to do some extra research on them.

Do not let this dissuade you from writing a character who signs ASL! This is by no means the end-all be-all to writing ASL dialogue, and I do not intend this post to insinuate that by writing ASL the same way you write English you are deeply offending the Deaf community. If this is something you're interested in though, I highly recommend experimenting with the way you write it! Above all, have fun with your writing.

Related to 2nd rule, but still very important: not everyone will agree that sign language should be treated/written any differently than English. This is a totally valid and understandable stance to take! I do not hope to invalidate this stance by making this post, but rather to introduce an interested audience to how ASL operates in the modern world, and how that can be translated into text.

ADDRESSING SOME MISCONCEPTIONS

ASL is the same as English, just with gestures instead of words.

Actually, no! There is a language that exists that is like that: it's called Signing Exact English, and it's an artificial language; i.e., it did not come about naturally. All languages came from a need to communicate with others, and ASL is no different! It is a language all on it's own, and there is no perfect 1:1 way to translate it to English, just as any spoken language.

2. But everyone who signs ASL knows how to read English, don't they?

No, actually! Because it's a completely different language, people who sign ASL and read English can be considered bilingual: they now know two languages. In fact, fingerspelling a word to a Deaf person in search for the correct sign does not usually work, and is far from the preferred method of conversing with Deaf people.

3. Because ASL does not use as many signs as we do words to articulate a point, it must be an inferior language.

Nope! ASL utilizes 5 complex parameters in order to conversate with others: hand shape, palm orientation, movement, location, and expression. English relies on words to get these points across: while we may say "He's very cute," ASL will sign, "He cute!" with repeated hand movement and an exaggerated facial expression to do what the "very" accomplishes in the English version: add emphasis. Using only ASL gloss can seem infantilizing because words are unable to portray what the other four parameters are doing in a signed sentence.

4. Being deaf is just a medical disability. There's nothing more to it.

Fun fact: there is a difference between being deaf and being Deaf. You just said the same thing twice? But I didn't! To be deaf with a lowercase 'd' is to be unable to hear, while being Deaf with an uppercase is to be heavily involved in the Deaf community and culture. Deaf people are often born deaf, or they become deaf at a young age. Because of this, they attend schools for the Deaf, where they are immersed in an entirely different culture from our own. While your family may mourn the loss of your grandfather's hearing, Deaf parents often celebrate discovering that their newborn is also deaf; they get to share and enjoy their unique culture with their loved one, which is a wonderful thing!

YOU MENTIONED ASL GLOSS. WHAT IS THAT?

ASL gloss is the written approximation of ASL, using English words as "labels" for each sign. ASL IS NOT A WRITTEN LANGUAGE, so this is not the correct way to write it (there is no correct way!): rather, it is a tool used most commonly in classrooms to help students remember signs, and to help with sentence structure.

IF THERE'S NO CORRECT WAY TO WRITE IN ASL, THEN HOW DO I DO IT?

A most astute observation! The short answer: it's up to you. There is no right or wrong way to do it. The longer answer? Researching the culture and history, understanding sign structure, and experimenting with description of the 5 parameters are all fun ways you can take your ASL dialogue to the next level. Here are 3 easy ways you can utilize immediately to make dialogue more similar to the way your character is signing:

Sign languages are never as wordy as spoken ones. Here's an example: "Sign languages are never wordy. Spoken? Wordy." Experiment with how much you can get rid of without the meaning of the sentence being lost (and without making ASL sound goo-goo-ga-ga-y; that is to say, infantilizing).

Emotion is your friend. ASL is a very emotive language! If we were to take that sentence and get rid of the unnecessary, we could get something like "ASL emotive!" The way we add emphasis is by increasing the hand motion, opening the mouth, and maybe even moving the eyebrows. It can be rather intuitive: if you mean to say very easy, you would sign EASY in a flippant manner; if you mean to say so handsome, you would sign handsome and open your mouth or fan your face as if you were hot. Think about a game of Charades: how do you move your mouth and eyebrows to "act out" the word? How are you moving your body as your teammates get closer? There are grammar rules you can certainly look up if you would like to be more technical, too, but this is a good place to start!

Practice describing gestures and action. ASL utilizes three dimensional space in a lot of fun and interesting ways. Even without knowing what a specific sign is, describing body language can be a big help in deciphering the "mood" of a sentence. Are they signing fluidly (calm) or sharply (angry)? Are their signs big (excited) or small (timid)? Are they signing rushedly (impatient) or slowly? Messily (sad) or pointedly (annoyed)? Consider what you can make come across without directly addressing it in dialogue! Something ese about ASL is that English speakers who are learning it tend to think the speakers a little nosy: they are more than able to pick up on the unsaid, and they aren't afraid to ask about it.

Above all, don't be afraid to ask questions, do research or accept advice! New languages can be big and scary things, but don't let that make you shy away. Again, there is nothing wrong with deciding to write ASL the same as you write your English. I've personally found that experimenting with ASL dialogue in stories has aided me in becoming more aware of how to describe everything, from sappy emotional moments to action-packed fighting scenes. Writing ASL has helped me think about new ways to improve my description in more everyday contexts, and I hope it can be a big help to you as well, both in learning about Deaf culture and in pursuing your future writing endeavors. :)

P.S: I am quite literally only dipping my toes into the language and culture. I cannot emphasize how important it is to do your own research if it's someting you're interested in!

P.P.S: I want to apologize for my earlier P.S! What I meant by “I am … dipping my toes into the language and culture” was in direct regards to the post; what I should have said is “this post is only dipping its toes into the language and culture.” While I am not Deaf myself, I am a sophomore in college minoring in ASL and Deaf Culture, and I am steadily losing my hearing. Of course, that does not make me an authority figure on the topic, which is why I strongly encourage you to do your own research, ask your own questions, and consult any Deaf friends, family, or online peers you may have.

#dc batman #batfamily #cassandra cain #ASL #american sign language #deaf #deaf culture #tayscreams #writing advice #writing

[thecameronchronicles]

Worth

TW: body image issues. Smut. Language. Severe angst. Happy ending! 

SUMMARY: JJ realized why you broke up with him and sets out to prove your reasons as being invalid. 

WORD COUNT: 2300

REQUESTED

Hey i wanted to ask if you can write something like All the right curves again with JJ or Sarah if not that totally okay :)💕💕 can’t wait for you coming back but don’t stress💓💓  also I love your writings &lt;3

*THANK YOU SO MUCH! THESE BODY PIS FICS ARE SO PERSONAL!*

Worth 

He couldn't bring himself to understand why. Hours spent staring at his ceiling or life passing by just on the other side of a pane of glass didn't clarify it. To make matters worse, he would hear the echo of your voice as you parted from Sarah after dropping her off at The Chateau. Your eyes rising to the room he usually occupied before he caught the look of apparent indifference. As if the last six months meant nothing. As if you only ever thought of him as an outlet to your daddy issues. As if you validated why Kooks and Pogues should remain distant. But as he looked to Sarah wrapped blissfully in John B's arms, Kiara catching glances from Pope, the burn of how you'd broken up with him and constantly returned just out of reach. Just as the sweetest memories held as well. 

The very same memories that could be as sensual as they could have been dominating. Fingers wrapped as you laid against his chest during the storm a week before it happened would be the same pairing that was thrust into the sheets an hour later. Your body often acting as a haven for his most wild of wiles you managed to take with a touch that corrected his raw carnality. But now he was left vulnerable for reasons he couldn't understand. 

But a party at The Chateau would offer the chance to learn why. Nursing a countless glass bottle to his lips, he narrowed his eyes at you from across the scene. You'd debated even showing up as you knew the tension it would cause. But as he'd draped himself around every girl he could, you thought he had moved on. After all, why would JJ Maybank be stuck on someone like you when he had girls like Kie at his disposal. Effortless beauties with insecurities that paled against your own. 

THIS having been the unspoken reason you left him standing in the center of The Chateau in telling him it wouldn't work. Trying to spare him. Trying to protect him. 

"I'm gonna go..." You told Sarah as she pulled herself up from John B's knee. 

"What?! No! You can't!"

Your eyes flashed to JJ, ignorant to how uncomfortable you had become in watching him flirt with everything with a pulse. Tourons. Pogues. The handful of Kooks that remained friends with Sarah after her breakup with Topper. It was relentless pain on your already bleeding heart. 

"God, JJ is an idiot." You shrugged off her comment before returning inside The Chateau for your coat, having left it inside as you'd even helped set up for the night's festivities. You focused on the collection of jackets set in a pile on John B's bed, many of which were the same style. And yet yours had been easily identifiable as it was practically a second skin. You weren't even able to set both arms in the designated slots before hearing the floor creak behind you. 

And you knew, it was him. He had a way of being present that the scent of the sea and the heat of his skin was equally palpable. It was what made him so intimidating to you-what also made you miss him so deeply. Or at least what had begun the reminiscent reasons as to why. 

"Gonna leave without saying goodbye?" He asked, clearly affected by alcohol, but not enough to actually deter his speech or focus. Just enough to offer him the carelessness of confronting you. 

"I shouldn't have come-"

"But you did...For Sarah, right?" He asked, unable to look at you as you felt as if this somehow validated your reasons. Not in his words however, but the way he seemed to look past you. 

"I just want to go..."

"Just tell me you came here for her...that there wasn't some part of you that wanted to see me-" His ringed fingers collected at your arms had kept you inhibited from an escape, a touch that held such power to tempt you to remain. 

"Just tell me one small lart-"

"It doesn't matter, JJ!" You finally snapped against him. The usual quiet and well mannered persona pushed to such a reaction. 

"How can you say it doesn't matter when you single handedly made me believe in something  I didn't realize could even exist?!" He took a step closer, shaking you to validate he held your attention. 

"Maybe it didn't mean the same thing to you, but it meant everything to me-" You pulled yourself away. 

"It meant everything to me too..." His expression softened before narrowing again as he recalled your words. 

"Then why did you say everything you did? Do you really believe we're a lost cause? Because I keep catching you watch me and you don't exactly keep your distance."

"You're right..." Hope illuminated behind his expression, "I'll stay away." That hope obliterated. Falling to ashes at his feet as you finalized the jacket around your arms before ultimately leading towards the door. One sole over the threshold before he brought you back against him. 

"I don't buy it. You came here because some part of you wanted to see me-"

"Tell me I'm wrong and I'll leave...I'll go forget you in someone else and-"

"That's why..." You explained  as he sighed in confusion. Tears in your eyes once they finally met with his. 

"You will find someone else. Be with someone who looks better and-"

"WHAT?!" 

"I saw you tonight, JJ...with every single girl BUT Sarah. And I'd wage anything that if she wasn't with John B, she wouldn't have been excluded-"

"I just wanted to get a reaction out of you, I couldn't care less about any of them..."

"Until another one you mean..." His eyes sharpened to the point they were almost completely closed. 

"What are you-"

"Anyone else, JJ! Anyone else who can stand next to Kie or Sarah and not feel twice their size! That can go visit you at work or be with you on the beach without having to be told they pity you or commend you for your charitable act of being with me-"

"Who the fuck said that-"

"It doesn't matter..." 

"It does to me." He elaborated with a clenched jaw. 

"They're right, JJ." Something rushed across his mind. An epiphany. But not one that brought him peace with closure. Instead, it bore something else. Something you'd never necessarily witnessed before. 

"No they aren't-"

"Yes they are, they-" He surprised you with the sudden kiss made against your lips. The lips you'd dreamed of, missed, cried over. The same ones you had craved the second you kissed him for what you believed to have been the last time. And even now, in the attempt to prove a point, he had done so sweetly. Such kindness behind a kiss capable of such power. Yet, he refrained. At least until his hands rested at your ribs and you were taken against the edge of the bed. 

"JJ-" 

"Sorry princess, but you're letting stupid people affect your head..."

"What are you doing?" You asked as he hovered over you, beginning at your lips once again. 

"I'm going to kiss every part of you that you're insecure about. So tell me..." He began to pry apart your ensemble. Clothing and layers you'd chosen to feel more confident, he pulled in the hopes of making you vulnerable. But as you tried, he could feel your tension. 

"Focus on me. You know I'd never lie to you...And I am so obsessed with every...beautiful inch of you..." He began at your lips. 

"Every inch .." His lips pressed softly at your lips and jaw as you became dissolved beneath him. Pliable and motivated by his ambitions for you, he was able to make you forget everything without much more than a touch. A breath in your ear, a look from across the room and those hurtful words from those who knew so little of the love you had for each other had mended. 

"A little self love,sweetheart..." He kissed your stomach as you shuddered beneath him, unaware how he managed to make you so bare so quickly. A momentary hesitation to allow him further having been contradicted by the rise of his shirt from over his head. 

"If only you could see yourself like I do...You'd never question anything again..." He moved back up to you, from the bone of your hip to your neck until he could pin your arms over your head. 

"But I want you to look me in my eyes and tell me you didn't break up with me because you thought I wouldn't want you..." He pushed his body fully into yours, enough to feel his cock protesting against your former assumption. 

"Because my girl-" Your face animated to the title. Of all the things you'd missed, his possessiveness of such saccharine commitment has been the most. 

"Yes. My girl...is smarter than lying to me. So tell me why you said it wouldn't work. We both know it isn't because you don't want this..." He looked at the alce between you, "Pretty goddamn obvious I've missed you, princess." You blushed. 

"Because you deserve better." He paused for a second, retracting from you completely before standing between your legs at the edge of the bed. His fingers slow at his buckle. 

"Why would I need to look for anything better when I have the best?"

"JJ..." You moved to your elbows as he moved closer to the edge of the bed, keeping you flat. 

"But you took something away from me. That leave I have when I'm with you...Because I don't love you because of your curves...your ass...your smile..." He bit his bottom lip as a smirk made his dimples quite prominent. 

"Even though they are definitely not missed..." He hovered over you again. 

"I love how you make me feel when I'm with you. How you love me...how you made me want to be the best for you...and if I have to remind you..." Your panties were only pulled to the side before his cock threatened your lower lips."

"How we feel together...." You gasped. 

"Just in case you forgot." Your back arched immediately as his body curves to apprehend this extension. Hands to each breast as each nipple and mound was throughout appreciated with a soft tongue but threat of his teeth, you moaned his name. 

"What if someone hears us?"

"I'm counting on it, sweetheart." He pulled himself over you as he set a few steady thrusts within you to keep you from distracting yourself.

"JJ..." 

"I only wanna hear sounds with vowels, princess. You know I don't know too many of those other words Pope and you played on that game you both like-" 

"Scrabble?" You teased as he kissed your lips until you were breathless. A prideful grin leaving you compliant. 

"Starting now, sweetheart...I'll even make it easy..." He dropped his thumb to your clit, small circles making you utter a single "ah" before arching to the pressure given by his shaft making slow inserts. 

"Perfect. Keep going, princess. Apparently I have to make my point and I don't care if it takes all goddamn night." His fingers fisted the sheets beneath you rather rapidly and tightly as his body rode against yours in desperation and necessity. All while you responded accordingly.  Every rush of his hips made to your own would drive you deeper into the bed as your body moved and molded to him. 

"Fuck..." He tensed over you, beginning to shake after your body began to wear beneath him. Aching thighs as he edged you both to prolong the moment, not a second or inch of your skin left without a confirmation of his love for your figure. 

"I'm not coming until you see what I see..." 

"I want you to come-"

"Then tell me you know...you know you're beautiful." But the words seemed wrong. Sour. As if they held two different meanings from what he wanted and what you could offer. 

"We'll work on it...Then just tell me you're mine. Because I'll spend every second of every day reminding you if I have to." You nodded. This was an easy one. 

"I'm yours."

"Again-" He hit hard into the end beside you. 

"I'm yours, JJ!" You belted as that familiar pull and twist of heat from your lower stomach saturated his final thrusts as he found that release within you. His lips at a rest to your shoulder before he retracted and analyzed you. 

"I expect you to dump my ass for being an idiot. But never because of thinking you aren't enough...trying to beat me to the punch or whatever. You are supposed to be the smart one between us, princess..." He teased before taking his shirt from the floor. 

"Come on, there's a s'more with your name on it...Worked up an appetite, I'm sure..." You bit your bottom lip as your body still needed more. 

"Or you could just bring back the stuff in here…"

"Why would I-" He beamed. "Oh..." He removed himself from the rook quickly before returning with the items. 

"Where do we start?" You questioned as he pulled the marshmallows from the bag and to your lips.

"Anywhere I want..." He closed the door behind him, moving back to you again. Only this time without the angst of the tension formerly between you. A reconstructed connection now stronger than ever. Every inch of your body truly adored by him. Any cross word against you rivaled by his sweetness. Because he proved his love and devotion for you. 

And in the times he couldn't, he just held you with such love that it silenced those hollow thoughts. His touch existing as a quiet reminder of what you'd always have.

The love of JJ Maybank.

TAGLIST: @hopebaker @drewspisces @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4tangerine @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @camilynn @sweetestdesire @onmykneesforrafe @jjmaybanksangel @phildunphyisadilf @mashdan0916 @pankhoeforlife @pankowperfection

MASTERLIST

JJ MAYBANK MASTERLIST

2ND JJ MAYBANK MASTERLIST

MARCH MADNESS MASTERLIST

BODY POSITIVE MASTERLIST

#body positivity #body positive #rudy pankow #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank smut #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks smut #outer banks jj #outerbanks #outerbanks fanfiction #outerbanks smut #obx #obx fanfiction #obx fic #obx smut

[jackhues]

pillow - quinn hughes

request: “what are you do-” “look, now we match!” 

requested by: anon : )

notes: this took a while, sorry, i've got exams starting soon 😢 but i rlly liked how this turned out, super cute! thanks for requesting <3

tags: @woodruff-edwards , @austinbutlerscaresme , @zegras2crosby , @l0veforhugh3s , @hockeyboysarehot <3 || join my taglist!

gif not mine!

you sighed at the water bottle that had fallen to your feet. 

you couldn’t take your eyes off of it as it rolled away, and out of sight. now, if you had a normal stomach, you’d be able to see it.

but of course, you just had to be so pregnant, you couldn’t even see your own feet.

you tried for a second, squatting over weirdly to see it - or better, actually pick it up. it didn’t work, leaving you in a horrible mood and resisting the urge to cry.

“quinn!” you yelled, calling the source of this whole pregnancy problem. “quinn! get here quickly!”

there was a pause, before you heard footsteps running down the stairs and towards the kitchen - where you were. 

“what happened? are you okay? is the baby coming?” he fired rapid questions at you, slightly out breath because of how fast he’d ran towards you.

“i’m fine,” you answered. “and god, i wish the baby was coming already.”

quinn tilted his head at you, clearly not understanding.

you pointed towards the water bottle you couldn’t see, “can you pick it up for me? i’m thirsty, and i can’t see it, and i feel like an invalid, and i want to cry, but at the same time, i’m so tired.”

used to your rambling by now, quinn hid his laughter as he picked up the water bottle for you. you took it with a grateful smile.

“i don’t know what i’d do without you,” you muttered, tearing up slightly. “i mean, i would just be thirsty forever if you weren’t here. i can’t even see my own feet.”

“hey, it’s okay,” quinn pulled you into a hug, rubbing your back as you wiped your tears. “if it makes you feel better, i don’t know what i’d do without you either.”

“at least you can see your feet!”

-

you sat on the couch, watching f.r.i.e.n.d.s. it was nighttime, and the whole dilemma of not being able to see your feet had weared off. you were in slight pain - had been since this morning, but being at the end of your pregnancy meant that was inevitable.

the episode was about to start, but quinn still wasn’t down. 

“quintin hughes! if you’re not down in ten seconds, i’m going to watch without you!” you yelled, beyond annoyed that he couldn’t even make it downstairs on time.

“i’m here, i’m here!” he announced, rushing in.

you raised a brow at his appearance, “what are you do-”

“-look, now we match!” he grinned, showing off the giant pillows he’d shoved under his shirt.

you stared for a second, completely at a loss for words. quinn was grinning, showing off his makeshift belly, and looking so proud of himself. 

he looked down, his mouth falling open as he looked up at you, “woah! i can’t see my feet either!” he mimicked your earlier position in the kitchen - squatting weirdly, trying to see them, “holy crap, this is insane!”

you giggled a little, amused by quinn’s shock.

“you're so cute.” you put your arms out, “now come here, so we can watch t.v.”

he obliged, pressing a hand to his stomach like you usually did, settling in next to you. the pillow stomach was a little awkward at first, but the two of you made it work. 

at least until you felt something wet.

“quinn,” you whispered, as reality set in and you realized what the pain you’d been feeling was. 

“hmm?” he muttered, not noticing what had happened.

“dude, i think my water broke,” you whispered back. “the baby’s coming.”

quinn stared at you in shock for a second, his eyes widening as he took in what you said.

“i’m so happy my pillow-stomach doesn’t do that.”

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes imagines #quinn hughes oneshot #quinn hughes one shot #quinn hughes oneshots #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes blurbs #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes fic #vancouver canucks #vancouver canucks imagines #canucks #canucks imagines #canucks hockey #hockey fic #hockey x reader #hockey imagine #hockey #nhl blurb #nhl fic #nhl #nhl imagine #naqia writes!

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

When watching people play The Stanley Parable, I always thought it be really cool if in the middle of it the Narrator was interrupted by a door opening and someone saying something like “hey how’s the game going? Have you eaten something yet?” And the Narrator getting flustered and apologizing to Stanley that they need to take a break and eat dinner. If it’s ok with you can you write something with this idea? (If you aren’t too overwhelmed with ask of course)

"You, too?! Unbelievable. I'm at the mercy of an entire species of invalids.." Scratching his head in annoyance, Narrator could only watch as Stanley went right back into the broom closet with no intentions of leaving.

This felt like a betrayal of sorts.

Was this some kind of joke? What was so special about this closet? Did he only stay in here for extra dialogue? Or to uncover some hidden secret?!

He couldn't understand his motivations. And trying to force himself to understand was starting to make his headache come back. It's been gnawing at his brain all day long, yet he elected to ignore it.

The story had to go on!

"Perhaps there's a monkey nearby you can hand the controls to? A fish? A fungus?” He sighed tiredly. “Look..you can-"

Suddenly he heard a door creak open. Not the broom closet within the game, but within his own realm, causing him to swivel around to see you there.

"Hey, Narry. How’s the game going?”

“[Y/n]! I told you not to--!!!”

“Have you eaten anything today?”

But before he could chastise you for interrupting, he thought about your question and realized...no, he doesn’t recall eating anything today. Of course, he’d have tea and coffee to keep himself awake, though actual sustenance? An actual meal??

He forgets that he needed those a lot more than he’d like to admit. Maybe that’s why he was letting this broom closet nonsense get to him so much.

“...as a matter of fact, I-I don’t believe so.” A bit flustered, and sensing Stanley’s confusion, he turned back to his desk and adjusted his mic. “You’ll have to excuse me for a moment, Stanley. My partner calls. So while I’m taking a much needed break, feel free to write me a 10-page essay on what exactly this godforsaken closet means to you and maybe..just maybe I’ll get a better understanding of your perspective.” 

After muting himself, Narrator took off his headset and put it down, sighing heavily as he saw you coming over. He clearly looked tired, which made you pout a little. You didn’t like seeing him ignore basic needs for the sake of his story. He often forgot he was an actual person.

“You don’t have to look so deeply into things.” You hugged him. “Maybe he just likes closets.”

“But I can’t help it when he goes off-script..” He grumbled into your chest. “I'm just trying to understand why. I need to. Is he expecting something to just magically happen?! You think I should board it up next time-?”

“Shh, you’re getting worked up again. We’ll talk about it over dinner, okay?” You gently cut him off, pulling away so he can get out of his chair. “You can’t expect yourself to write on an empty stomach.”

“You made us dinner?” He blinked, a soft smile gracing his lips soon after. “Oh, [y/n]. You’re too good to me. Perhaps that’s why this broom closet situation has me more irritable than normal. I’m simply famished.”

You just chuckled and took his hands. “You and your fancy words. C’mon. Before it gets cold.”

#clanask #anonymous #the stanley parable x reader #stanley parable x reader #tsp x reader #tsp narrator x reader #narrator x reader #domestic fluff

[five-thousand-loaves-of-bread]

"most (neurotypical and/or allistic) therapists don't know how to work with autistic clients." yes. but i'll raise you another one:

most speaking, lower support needs, level 1 autistic therapists without intellectual disability don't know how to work with nonspeaking, higher support needs, and/or level 2/3 autistic clients with or without intellectual disability.

just got assessed (diagnostic testing) by a speaking autistic therapist. of course don't know their life so can't speak for them, but through past experience, suspect they lower support needs and mostly work with speaking level 1 or at most level 2 autistics.

in addition to autism, i got diagnosed with "intellectual developmental disorder, severe" (aka severe intellectual disability) and "selective mutism."

for those who know me, i am mostly nonspeaking (or minimally speaking) level 2/3 autistic with language disabilities that make me write weird, apraxia, aphasia, and in general language disabilities, who have trouble masking, who have obvious social deficits. i don't have intellectual disability, and i am not nonspeaking because of lose speech or selective mutism.

the severe ID/IDD is diagnosed just because i write weird and act weird. the selective mutism is diagnosed just because i used to speak and now i don't.

both are inaccurate.

-

really don't care when random people think i have intellectual disability because of what i write, how i write, how i act, or because i simply talk about ID issues and advocate for people w ID. when anon asks was on, used to get anon hate from people who think i have ID and mocking my assumed ID. i don't really care because one more ask mistakenly sent to me means one less ask sent to someone actually with intellectual disability. so my problem with this therapist is not that.

my problem is, though, this is a therapist (autistic therapist too!) who frame themself as neurodiversity-affirming, as neurodiversity aware. this is therapist who read my long (way too detailed) history i submitted. this is therapist who read i didn't note any developmental delays in my history (i said "i don't remember" because i don't). this is therapist who also read in my history "hey i have undiagnosed progressive cognitive disabilities (that may complicate your diagnosis)." this is a therapist who assessed me. this is therapist who went through schooling to learn the (albeit flawed) diagnostic criteria of intellectual and developmental disorders. this is a therapist who know that they didn't give me an IQ test (yes IQ test flawed but is needed for current ID diagnosis).

what will they do if they meet someone who actually have intellectual disability? how would they treat them?

nothing in my history or our assessment did i say i don't talk because of anxiety. but apparently selective mutism is the only "not talking" people know. i couldn't go into why i don't speak ironically because of the very language disorders that mess with my writing and speak. apraxia, aphasia, i don't even know they are the whole picture, so i got stuck and didn't mention them.

chalking up my mostly nonspeaking experience to selective mutism is invalidating. and uneducated.

don't really know where am going with this. i found the IDD diagnosis amusing, the selective mutism diagnosis infuriating, and the overall experience sad. sad because even people who are in your community who say they affirms you don't know how to work with people like you.

#actually autistic #actuallyautistic #selective mutism #nonspeaking #nonverbal #autism #autistic #high support needs #medium support needs #low support needs #loaf screm

[camojacketfag]

when do you stop feeling like you're waiting for your life to start? im 22 and ive accomplished nothing, it feels like im at a standstill.

Well, for starters, I had a breakdown in a meijer parking lot at 8:15pm yesterday, sobbing to boygenius as I was telling myself that I’ve paused my life for the past four years to try and heal from crippling childhood trauma and therefore I haven’t really had the chance to truly have fucking fun and live life man.

My 20s have been a lot of healing and slowing down as life continues to move past me so fucking quickly. I told myself I was gonna have fun this year and instead I got my heart broken, I relapsed in my OCD, I cut ties with a shit therapist who invalidated me time and time again and I played far too many video games. Through out it all I also lost so many friendships who don’t fully understand how debilitating OCD truly is and my current social life consists mostly of imaginary conversations I have inside my head. But hey, we’re still fucking kicking! What really defines an accomplishment man? Whose timeline are you comparing yourself too? Most of the lives constantly being lived so publicly are led by neurotypical people with such big opportunities very different from lives like ours man. Therefore you’re doing yourself a disservice to try and compare your life to theirs. Acceptance is the hardest pill to swallow. I truly despise patience. Yet I also have to come to terms with the fact that I move at a much slower and methodical pace than everyone else around me. I know in the long run I’ll be grateful I decided to heal now as opposed to later but I still feel so fucking robbed man. Of time. And opportunities. And life. Time that I may never get back. Time in which others my age spent developing their careers or social relationships, I was stuck in my little room listening to sad lesbian music and having no one around but my dog and the obsessive thoughts that felt intensely unavoidable. I’d say life, or at least the life you’re talking about, will never truly start man. That life is just a piece of fiction. I guess what I’m trying to say is that life has already started, it’s just waiting for you to notice. Your perception is just warped, much like mine, but I know that although I can list all of these awful things that have happened over these past four years, I know that nudged somewhere in between it all, I’ve still lived. I saw some sick ass concerts, I gave myself my first stick and poke, I got drunk and shared to much, I allowed myself to question love and it’s mechanisms and meaning, I started a photo blog and have steadily worked towards creating what I see everyday in to something others can relate or come back to, I got punched in the face, I busted my lip trying to open a bottle of vodka, I drank to much caffeine and felt like I’d ascended to a higher state of consciousness. After I relapsed, I felt broken man. So much new trauma I’d have to go back to and stitch up all caused by trusting a professional who only made me believe that my own personal experience of the things I’d gone through was actually wrong. Yet somehow, it ended with me finally believing myself once more. And vowing to never let anyone make me feel like she did ever again. 11 years of trauma and hard work doesn’t deserve to be so easily destroyed just because you have a degree and I don’t. Still, I believed myself again. I believe myself now. And I know going forward that if we continuously compare ourselves to lives being lived that will never cross paths with ours then all we’re gonna do is spend eternity wondering when it will ever finally fucking begin. I promise you, it already has, and although I don’t know you, and you might believe that it’s been more bad than good, or that it’s not as valuable when compared to others achievements at your age, it’s still yours, and there’s still time, and it’s always been there, it’s just waiting for you to notice.

#one of these days I’m gonna just reply lol I don’t know to everyone’s asks lol #just kidding #if I have something to say you better believe im gonna say it #anyhow #asks #revelations

[ladymordecai]

I have been reading DC comics fic again for the first time in like . . . a decade-ish? because I'm a masochist, apparently. Finding new stuff and reading old favorites and being reminded of canon and all my thinky thoughts about superheroes and specifically Tim Drake, because he's my Robin and I imprinted (much like he did).

canon has put that boy through the wringer in the last decade, including smushing like, all his tragedies from 15 years of comics into like, ten seconds of comics time. I was reminded of the storyline where his dad found out he was robin and threatened batman into making him give it up, which at the time pissed me off because it was both a clear illustration of what a terrible parent jack drake was (in a way the narrative itself didn't seem to get??), and also because everything about it was so obviously For The Plot.

There was like, nothing in that storyline that I remember that actually came from the characters. It read like the writer or editors or whatever TPTB* decided they wanted to write a story about robin's dad finding out about robin and making him stop**. it's an obvious story for the only robin at the time who wasn't an orphan, and one of few kid heroes whose parents didn't know about them, and also it was Batman and Robin! The Drama! it so clearly had nothing to do with TIM when he should've been the main character, and it made me so angry, and then that anger was compounded because TPTB used it as an excuse to screw over Steph and then make the only non-orphan robin into an orphan, i guess just because. I hated it then, I hate it now.

BUT

I have a lot more perspective now, and have read a lot more (both published work and fanfic), and I have had a thought that I cannot believe I didn't have back then and that I've never heard before anywhere. (which doesn't mean somebody else hasn't had it, i just haven't found it)

One of my core objections about the storyline is that Tim's dad didn't figure out his ID, he just found the Robin uniform in Tim's room. Which is so out of character that it should invalidate the entire storyline.

This is the kid who wore another mask under his mask to prevent his other superhero friends from SEEING HIS FACE--not knowing his ID, just seeing his face. The kid who kept his identity from goddamn ORACLE for a while there. The kid who was able to sneak out and photo-stalk BATMAN AND ROBIN for literal years as a preteen and never get caught. Nobody ever knew anything about Robin III unless Tim made a deliberate decision to reveal the information. This had been a cornerstone of his character for 20+ years. Robin III's secret identity was arguably second only to Oracle's in-universe.

Yet that entire story rested on the idea that Jack Drake, inattentive parent maybe-kinda-misguidedly-authoritarianly trying to connect with his son for the first time ever, snoops in Tim's room and finds proof that Tim is Robin?? AND that Bruce Wayne is Batman?!?? Tim, whose best friends still call him "Rob," left proof of his identity and Batman's somewhere his civilian father could find it??!??!

There is NO WAY THAT MAKES SENSE. There is no version of canon in which that makes sense.

Things that would make sense: Is that old poster of the Flying Graysons how you met the Waynes? or Hey So I Noticed You Have Three Half-Empty First Aid Kits, Talk To Me? or Dad! Did you read my freaking diary and find whatever normal-teenager angst I wrote as a cover and possibly also some real civvie-ID angst mixed in?! Not cool!

OR

Somebody set that up.

That was a freaking supervillain plot.

There's like. No other explanation for what Tim's dad found. Either a supervillain figured out Tim's ID and took him off the playing board in the way most likely to disrupt as many other superheroes as possible, or a supervillain who didn't know Robin's ID mind-controlled him into revealing it for nefarious reasons.

So uh. I really don't want to get into writing DC fic, because I have shit to do that is not that, but SOMEBODY NEEDS TO TELL THAT STORY. Like, either all the characters involved don't contract plot stupidity and thus realize there's something hinky going on, or at some point after that in canon new evidence comes to light or an existing rogue says something suspicious or . . . there's just so many possibilities.

AND THEY'RE ALL MORE INTERESTING AND MORE IN-CHARACTER THAN CANON, DC!!!

(the creators involved in that storyline should feel very very lucky i don't remember who they are and am too lazy to look them up. because i would bring up how bad they are at storytelling every chance i got, forever)

--translations for fandom young'uns and some snark:

*TPTB: the powers that be, shorthand for the vast array of people in charge of multi-creator stories run by companies, such as tv shows, movies, and comics

**Buffy did it better

#tim drake #dc comics #meta #dc comics meta #fic bunny

[mishacollinsthighsss]

I'm still not over what happened, but I have brain worms and they most likely make absolutely no sense and don't even go together but I need to get them out, so heh... guess you guys have to suffer.

THIS PROBABLY WILL INCLUDE A LOT OF TINHATTING BOTH FOR DESTIEL AND COCKLES.

You still there? Great, let's get into my not medicated adhd brain a little.

First of all, starting Friday: The Album Drop

...do I need to say more? No? Well too bad, because I'm going to 😂 I'm a huge music freak, been singing since I was four, play guitar and the piano (I didn't say good okay, I'm actually very jealous of Jensen) and I've been obsessed with lyrics for pretty much forever. Alright, call me crazy but this album is so Dean Winchester coded it's unreal. Every song could be put together with Dean and I'm not even joking. You know what's even funnier? THAT THE DAMN SONG JENSEN AND MISHA PUT TOGETHER YESTERDAY COULD VERY WELL END UP AS A RADIO COMPANY SONG. The lyrics definitely needs some work (probably making it more vague), but... come on. The first thing my mind jumped to when I realized what Jensen was singing was Watching Over Me. MOVING ON.

Second: Jensen's answer about the Destiel reunion

This hole thing still drives me crazy. This was probably the clearest answer we've even gotten from Jensen, plus we got confirmation that he'd like to see a Destiel reunion AND ADDRESSING CAS' GOODBYE (I wanna say here that at this point I have no idea how that would play out if it would be something like "Hey buddy, I don't feel that way but I don't wanna lose you" or a full on love confession from Dean... I have no idea and that's okay, because I know Jensen knows how important that confession was to a lot of us, so I trust him not to invalidate Cas' feelings). Now, I paid a little attention to the words he said about maybe seeing it: first, he said that hopefully we'll get to see that at some point, and later he said maybe we won't. This immediately jumped out to me and you know what my brain did? Let me tell you: Jensen said that he doesn't talk about possible project before they aren't under the wraps because he doesn't wanna jinx them. Now hear me out: first, he said maybe we'll get to see it. Then he backtracked. He's talked about a reboot/6-10 episode thing for forever now. He WANTS to come back. My tinhat is firmly in place when I say that I have no doubt he's working on it already, but it isn't greenlit yet (hence the backtrack later). The description was just too specific to be made up out of thin air. (Watch me regretting those words later because I'm just too hopeful.)

Third and last: Whatever that Cockles Panel was

Listen, I could scream about them forever, we all know what went down, the only thing I wanna point out is: When Jensen said "...which is funny because so do I" he looked flustered as hell, we all know that by now. What gets me is that Misha had basically no reaction to this (he looked down, but that's it). So, did they plan something like that? I don't know, I just think it's weird as hell to have no reaction to something like this, especially when it's your "best friend" and he says that in front of hundreds of people.

(Plus, a little side note: still not over how you can SEE Jensens brain working while he's nervously rubbing his thigh.)

I don't even wanna go into the lyrics they wrote together, I've talked about it during the first point already, but something I wanna add is that I loved jensens face journey as Misha first mentioned the brothers but then immediately jumped to "The Angel". That was hilarious and by God, Jensen was planning on throwing together something romantic.

I'm very much not fine as you can tell, but it feels like the universe has shifted after the non-existent finale and now it's our turn. I always try to keep my expectations low, but the album and this whole weekend catapulted me right into the sun, so now all I can see is light and stars and it's wonderful.

#how do i even tag this #cockles #destiel #cockles tinhatting #destiel tinhatting #i guess #i feel like ive lost my mind #somebody pull me down to earth again #i cant take another hit #i need to lower my expectations but how does one do that #idek #if youve read all of this im so sorry

[hezuart]

What do you think of people who call you ableist? I have seen that many HB fans have called you that because you minimize the character of stolas and his "Trauma" and how horrible his marriage was. what do you think about that?

So I actually explained this to someone before privately. Someone came into my ask box and said "Hey so I relate to Stolas and because you criticized his relationships and trauma, you are therefore invalidating every abused person out there including me" Which was wild to receive but

It's not about invalidating Stolas's trauma

It's about bad writing

Stella and Stolas are flat, inconsistent characters that have literally no reason to stay married to each other, let alone bully or abuse each other.

Reasons why someone stays in an abusive relationship: 1. Fear (of being hurt or killed) 2. Political Power & Status 3. Reputation within the Family 4. Love (Because you need to love the person to be in a relationship that turned sour in the first place) 5. Kid 6. Money 7. Self-confidence / Ignorance of what a healthy relationship is

Let's debunk all of this. 1. Stolas no reason to fear Stella. He has a book of powerful spells and is an important Prince of Hell. She doesn't have power like he does. He does not fear for his life in Loo Loo Land or at the Harvest Moon Festival, he can freeze an imp by merely looking at them. Even Stella herself hired someone else to do her dirty work for her for potentially one of three reasons: A, she knows she can't beat Stolas in a fight so she has to be sneaky about it through a hired assassin with an Angel weapon, B, she doesn't want the family to know it was her because she could get in trouble for killing a Goetia family member (scandalous?), C, she cares about Octavia(???) and doesn't want her to know Stella is trying to kill her beloved father so she'll get custody. Otherwise, if things were simple, there's nothing stopping her from destroying him. Stolas is annoyed with her and tries to calm her down when she's angry, but he's never been afraid of her. At least, not as an adult.

2. For reputation's sake, I don't think the populace cares about whether or not the royal family is married or not. The imps at the Harvest Moon festival looked at Stolas with contempt. It might be scandalous amongst the elite, but what are the elite gonna do outside of gossip? Marriage is more of a God and Heaven kind of thing. It seems weird for Hell to hold it in such high regard???? It doesn't make sense to me. Also, everyone already knows Stolas had an affair with Blitzo now ever since Ozzies. Both he and Blitz didn't care about being seen in public, they didn't disguise themselves or hide until Oz made fun of them for it (though he himself is hypocritical, for he loves Fizzarolli.) So Stella might think it's embarrassing, but Stolas doesn't care.

3. Both Stolas and Stella are Goetia family by default. Stella acts like divorce is scandalous to the family, but Stolas says the only thing the family wanted from their marriage was Octavia, which they'd provided. They met the requirements of their arrangement, so why would the Goetia care if they divorce? Stella literally throws a "Not Divorced" party as though it's a special occasion. Stella has a lot of connections and friends in the Goetia family. She's complained about Stolas, shouting at the top of her lungs how unhappy she is and how pathetic Stolas is. The Goetia family knows their marriage sucks. Divorcing should be a common thing in Hell. Why would the family care about them divorcing if they did what they were asked to? Produce a child? The family shouldn't give them shit for it. In fact, in political relationships, it's usually the woman who would get in trouble. Stolas is a valuable asset to the Goetias as a star studier, spell weaver, and prophet. Stella? Her purpose? She's a broodmare! She's forced to breed. Her purpose is to produce a child. That's it. Now that she's done that, she's got nothing left to give to the family. If Stolas abandons her, she's basically screwed! She's purposeless to the family now. Killing Stolas might save her the embarrassment, but she's never done what she was supposed to do: raise Octavia. She's just been screwing around throwing parties instead of doing her job. If someone is going to get into trouble with the family, it would be Stella. Not Stolas. She'd be blamed for the failed marriage. (and rightfully so, she sucks)

4. Love is why I thought Stolas and Stella were staying together. Otherwise, why would Stella go with Stolas and Octavia to Loo Loo Land? Stella would hate it there. But she went for them. But any "love" Stella and Stolas might have had was retconned in season 2. Stolas and Stella never loved each other. They were an arranged marriage forced together for the sake of a kid.

5. Staying together for Octavia doesn't make sense. Might have in the beginning, but quickly became not the case. Stolas does more of the work as a father to her, while Stella has been shown to do next to nothing for her. Octavia clearly loves her father more and would choose him in a heartbeat in a divorce. They're stuck in Hell so it's not like Octavia is going to have to travel several hours for shared visitation. Stolas was apparently retconned to be in love with Blitzo; Stella literally screams on a daily basis how much she hates being married to Stolas, and Octavia is upset her parents hate each other. Why are they staying together? They're all miserable. If Stolas and Stella never married, or if they just produced Octavia then divorced early on, there wouldn't be any need to play this dumb facade. It was Stolas's idea to try and be a "normal" family, but Stella never agreed to this, considering all the shit she'd say about him during parties. They were never a normal family. How does Stolas even have a right to lie to Octavia about her purpose? How has Octavia never come in contact with another Goetia who let slip that she's an unwanted child that her grandfather forced on her parents? Stolas was told his purpose on his birthday when he was young. Did Octavia not have her purpose and responsibility explained to her? How can Octavia live in a house with a mother who screams her head off about her awful marriage and not get a clue? If Stolas would just divorce Stella, it would solve a lot of problems. Octavia's life was never normal. It was never meant to be normal. Pretending otherwise has only caused more problems and misunderstandings in the long run for her. Sure, Captain Hind-sight here, but I'm kind of tired of the incorrect phrase of "Stay together for the kids". Kids don't want you to stay together if you guys are unhappy and making them miserable.

6. Money? Again, Stella and Stolas are Goetia by default. Stolas has his own money and palace. Theoretically, Stella should too. If she doesn't, she can just shack up with her brother Andrealphus then?? (Weird though if she doesn't have her own money. But if this were a typical political marriage, again, it's usually the woman who gets the shorter end of the stick. She at least has family and friends to fall back on, regardless of how embarrassing it may be for her.)

7. For Stolas and Stella to be ignorant of a healthy relationship is something else entirely. Usually, this means Stolas would blame himself for failing the marriage. He'd think he did something wrong, or Stella would gaslight him into feeling weak or powerless so he'd need her. But that's not the case. Stolas knows he's mistreated. He wanted to pretend to be a healthy family, so he know what a "family" should have been from day one. Which is ironic, because Stolas is in love with Blitz, but Blitz doesn't really treat him any better than Stella does. Regardless, Stolas knows Stella mistreats him, and he's never blamed himself for their bad marriage, so this isn't a contender.

Stella has no reason to abuse Stolas because neither of them wanted this. Sure, she could take out her anger on him, but Stolas has no reason to stay married to Stella as explained above. Stella is the only one who should be afraid of this, and therefore, she shouldn't abuse Stolas because she should know she can be dropped and shunned with a snap of his fingers. (but the show treats Stolas as if he'll be the one who gets in trouble as if he's gonna get the short end of the stick? As though Stella holds more power over him??? As though she's more important??? Why the fuck are they treating Stolas like he's replaceable and not Stella? She's a useless Goetia) I just can't find any logic here.

It's just not ablest. It's about criticizing a show for not making any sense.

#a good portion of people saying its ablest #are stolitz stans #which is ironic because blitz is a really bad relationship for stolas too #its not as bad but still not a good one #stella and stolas were together through political power means #stolas and blitz are together through deceitful manipulations #neither of these relationships have chemistry or love for each other #at least- they dont anymore after season 2 #but yeah its not about ableism at all #its a very long reach that people are making #either through simple misunderstanding #or they just dont like it when stolitz is criticized for some reason #helluva boss #helluva boss critical #long post #drama #these are high class royal demons with different lives and responsibilities #this is just not your every day abusive relationship #the circumstances are far too different #it just doesnt make sense to be an abusive relationship #they made stella a flat bitch to justify Stolas cheating on his wife #and stolas is just a good boi who wants love!!!!! #and its upsetting they did that #because these characters are supposed to be -complex- #but they're not #Helluva Boss ironically feels like its written by kids for kids #inappropriate jokes - violence- and flat characters? #im tellin ya 6th graders would be all over this show #if they arent already

[skaruresonic]

You seem like a very cool friend to have, you have a bigger heart then I, I just can't tolerate death threats and wishes. Offcourse in politics you see it all the time, but people in politics have power over us and sometimes their decisions is a matter of life and death. It's different then someone being involved in comic books and games like flynn.

As someone who was bullied both irl and online, death treats trigger me. I had panic attacks over it. Strangers telling me to die because of how I looked or because of my Sonic opinion. It also made me lash out, and hurt me friends. Not excusing my behavior but I wasn't myself anymore. That's why my tolerance is zero to people like that. I'm just weaker or too sensitive.

I don't think I'm tolerating his behavior by forgiving him, per se. I'm saying, "I expect better of you because you are my friend and I am giving you a chance to Do Better." Because, bear in mind, my first reaction was to unfollow him. After giving it some thought, I realized it didn't really make sense to abruptly cut ties with someone I considered a friend because they said something fucked-up at 3 AM. IDW fans tend to cut ties with no explanation, and upon reflection, I asked myself, "Am I really doing any better if I react first and don't ask for context?" The disappointment I felt was because I'd held him to a higher standard; the reason I unfollowed was because of that. It wasn't like I cheerily condoned it or anything, I really was disappointed and told Random as much. We continue to be friends because he hasn't repeated the offense, but also because we just like each other as people. But, again, because I didn't broadcast my disappointment early enough for the public's liking, people assume I blithely tolerate death threats towards Flynn. I don't. You'd think folks would realize that by looking at how I abide by a strict no-contact policy. (Then again, they may just interpret that as an act of cowardice on my part, so who knows.)

That being said, anon, you shouldn't beat yourself up over your reactions to things no one should go through. That's like calling yourself weak or too sensitive for crying out in pain when somebody punches you in the face. Of course it's going to hurt; of course the natural reflex is to first yell "Ow!" and then "Hey, what the fuck?" People mocking you for doing either are only being sickening and also don't know how psychology works. We're not punching bags, we're people.

And the worst part is, they act like they act like you have a victim narrative, and then turn right around and paint themselves as victims of harassment because you… reblogged a post of theirs. On the Reblogging Site. Forgive me if I don't exactly feel sorry for you, you know?

I was once on Twitter. I can count the number of conversations I've had where people didn't twist my words on one hand. On Tumblr, at roughly the same time, I was receiving harassing asks attacking my character at least once a day. And that was on top of people in general sneering at Le Haters.

They mock us for being part of a clique, but honestly, I feel like my friends are the only ones keeping me sane through all this. At least they won't judge even if I go off the deep end. At least they know where I'm coming from. At least there's someone out there who knows this situation isn't fair or balanced and acknowledges that it's actually kind of fucked-up.

Of course, folks will say "You're only friends with Random because he agrees with you," which... paints a rather narrow and sad view of how they approach their online friendships, tbh. Do you require conformity of thought in your friendships, then?

Imagine months' worth of this. Imagine people attacking every angle of your character, from your intelligence, to your character, to your friendships, to your status as a Sonic fan, to your mental health, and then on top of that the majority of them proceeding to imply what you went through was invalid and didn't happen, and even if it did, that it didn't matter, at least not in comparison to what the people hurt by looking at your blog went through.

In other fandoms, we'd call that victim-blaming, but Sonic is a unique cesspit where a shocking amount of abuse apologia slips through the cracks:

This? Is fine in the mainstream's eyes. Because we "deserve" it somehow.

Legitimately I was afraid when I announced my mom's death online that they would mock me for it. And they did. And they didn't do that to just me, they pulled it with my friends' and their deceased loved ones, too, even when they hadn't said anything.

On Mother's Day, I received a nasty chain of reblogs mocking my mom's death and the language I'm studying, which is very important to me because it is our tribe's language and a language we nearly lost to residential school. I didn't grow up learning it, but I'm learning it as as an adult, filling that void.

What really put the nail in the coffin and made me decide to delete my second blog was when they said, quote, "Maybe she wouldn't have died if you weren't such a cunt."

My fears about being mocked online for it turned out to be entirely valid. Tbf, a few people backed off when they heard the news, but then you had shitheads who just wanted to stir the pot because haha isn't it funny to watch Le Hater suffer. (tw for parent death below)

Truth is, I harbor a great deal of guilt over her death because I had to watch her suffer for a long time at the hands of inept and sometimes abusive hospital staff and was unable to do anything about it. There were some cases where I might have exacerbated her suffering, such as when I cleaned the tub days before her death (with good intentions) and she slipped and cracked her head, got a hairline fracture in her skull on top of everything else.

I don't like thinking about it.

I feel like there's maybe some unprocessed trauma there in that I tend to think about it at least once a day, but I push it into the back of my mind. That's kind of what Natives do: we don't have the resources to deal with our trauma, so our solution is to just stop thinking about things that bother us, like closing a door in our minds. Out of sight, out of mind.

However, it's difficult to close certain doors when people keep trying to push them open. I can handle Not Thinking about That Particular Thing, but how can I avoid thinking about IDW discourse when people in this fandom are constantly reminding me of how I'll never be forgiven my heathen ways? And kicking sand in my face by saying I have a victim complex when I have pulled every stop possible to draw proper boundaries? What they really want is for you to shut up forever, and fuck that.

I won't say I've been perfect, either, but based on the way folks talk, you'd think we want Flynn homeless. And that's a degree of bad faith you just can't work with. You can't work with supercilious centrists who'll sneer "you're just as bad" when all you're doing is posting on your own blog, who act like you getting snarky in your blogging is the equivalent to being told your mother would still be alive if you weren't "such a cunt."

Again, you cannot win in a situation like this. The only solution is to walk away because it's clear they need an eternal scapegoat, and it seems nothing I can do or say will convince those whose minds are already turned against us that we're not terribad people.

#asks #death threat mention

[dukeofankh]

I've been treated to some truly wild takes on the genocide in Gaza and the accompanying protests at this point, including from some people I used to respect, but by far the most unhinged line of reasoning I've seen has to be "guh, of course there's war crimes happening in Gaza. All wars have war crimes. Nobody was ever mad when other countries did war crimes, but they're mad now. I wonder what's different this time? That's right, it's an opportunity to hate Jewish people. Folks showing their true colours I guess..."

Like...so much stuff going on there.

First of all, uh, we have actually been pretty mad about war crimes done by other countries. Including by the US! I've seen the line "this is like our 9/11, do you get it now?" so many times. And hey, I remember 9/11 and the following shift in western politics, but I have received the troubling news lot that a lot of full blown adults with political opinions were somehow born after 9/11. I now feel old. Anyway, for those people, I will tell you that even after 9/11, there were protests against going to war in Afghanistan.

"Our Grief is Not a Cry for War"

-Button worn at protest in NYC on Oct. 1, 2001

"You are sending another powerful message to Number 10 and to the White House that we are not simply going to allow the atrocities of September 11 to be replaced with further atrocities in Afghanistan."

- Paul Marsden, UK MP at London protest on Nov. 18, 2001

People do care. People have always cared. The movement to free Palestine seems bigger, but that's because it's joining an organized movement that has been working for decades to bring attention to this cause. People are so angry because the Israeli government is being so strident, gleeful, and vocal about its genocidal intentions. People in the west care so much because our governments are allied with Israel and we are directly culpable for what happens under our watch and with our aid. People are upset that Israel has dropped 22,000 bombs on Gaza in a month and a half, over the explosive power of two nuclear bombs. They're mad not just because that's deplorable, but that that is especially deplorable. That is more than the United States dropped on Afghanistan in 2001 (17,500 bombs), despite Gaza being 14,000 times smaller. As I said, people have always protested war and the crimes inherent to war, but If some people seem more angry at Israel it is because what Israel is doing is legitimately, objectively, and measurably worse.

https://www.washingtonpost.com/national-security/2023/12/09/us-weapons-israel-gaza/

Secondly...okay, let's pretend none of that was true. Let's pretend people are just massive hypocrites who say they hate it when children and hospitals get bombed and are more angry when people do that harder, but in fact they actually usually ignore it as long as it isn't Israel doing it. Someone being a hypocrite does not actually make their point invalid. That's just tu quoque, or "you also", a basicass logical fallacy. Even if someone else is a hypocrite, war crimes are still bad and you should be against them happening.

Like, I feel like the reason this keeps coming up isn't to convince Israel's critics. It's apologetics. It's to convince supporters of Israel, not even that they're right, but that everyone else is wrong and antisemitic and evil, so that they can be ignored. Don't worry! Sure there's this niggling little worry that Israel might be going too far, but everything you hear pushing that position is said by people who don't believe it and only say it because they hate you.

Sure, many Zionists defend Israel as doing nothing wrong, or try to discredit the reporting of what they're doing wrong, but people with inconveniently strong critical thinking skills need a fallback to ease their cognitive dissonance, so apologists have this gem.

Like...if you needed someone else to spell it out for you, "but everyone else gets to do genocides, it's only fair I get to do one too...please it's my birthday I don't know why everyone is being so mean...🥺" Is not a good enough reason to get to do a genocide. There is no reason good enough.

"The War on Terror was a fraudulent idiotic tantrum that has caused horrific and permanent damage to the Middle East" was and continues to be an extremely common position among the left, and even some right wingers feel like it was a mistake at this point. But even if they didn't, even if everyone was mad at just Israel and only Israel, even if it was because everyone was super antisemitic...a stopped clock is right twice a day. Genocide is still bad, and would, in fact, be worse than hypocrisy.

#me writing stuff

[lucysweatslove]

Because y’all are so invested in my family drama (actually because I am so annoyed).

I tried to talk to my sister per my mother’s request. I rationalized it with “well maybe she has actually figured out she’s hurtful so I’ll try to hear her apology.”

This is when she tried the “I’m sorry you were hurt” and “I’m sorry I’ve made you so upset” apologies. Not apologies because they focus on my feelings and not the actions she took that lead to the feelings. It implies the issue is how I feel, not in how she acted.

I attempted to tell her how that wasn’t an apology and tried to reiterate very clearly: you invalidated me and my life experiences. You maintained that your experiences were better or more than mine and more valuable. This is disrespectful to me as a person.

She still didn’t get it. She continued to not apologize, really, claiming she HAD apologized, and demanding I apologize because by saying she has seemed stressed, tired, etc, I was trivializing her experience, when what I was doing was explaining and rationalizing to me and to our mother why I think she is particularly volatile, and why I am trying to be very kind with my words and not go for the low-blows she went for.

The low-blow involved a huge dig at our mother too so I was frank that we know what the low blow was and that it would be counterproductive to bring up the specifics again in this setting. My sister claimed to never have dealt low-blows.

So I decided nope we don’t need to do this in a chat my mom can read, if she won’t even own up to a very intentional low blow. So I texted her individually reminding her of exactly what she said and that btw I wasn’t gaslighting, I had ignored one topic (that she was repeatedly rehashing btw) to address other topics and because hey I have a shit working memory, I forgot to address it.

Because she felt manipulated and began to question her sanity, THAT was “gaslighting” to her, because the impact matters more than the intent when it comes to the language used to describe the events. We argued about the semantics of this too- my stance is connotation matters more than denotation, as “gaslighting” is very emotionally charged for us and has a connotation of malice, whereas what I did was not malicious. For me, it is very important my intent is understood- not used as an excuse to keep causing harm but understood that it is the harm was not caused maliciously, to not assign malice to my actions when malice is not there.

She wanted me to promise to never unintentionally manipulate/ “gaslight” her by blocking, diverting, or “trivializing” and to “take responsibility” without blaming my working memory because in her mind I’m using my working memory as an excuse and it’s not the actual problem, it can’t be an actual problem. I tried to say: I can promise to never intentionally manipulate, gaslight, etc, but the thing with unintentional impacts is that you don’t know and can’t anticipate them (because it’s not malicious), so it is an impossible promise. I CAN promise that when unintentional harms occur from my actions, I can apologize for those harms and seek to rectify. But nobody can get rid of unintentional harms entirely.

She didn’t like this but whatever.

Eventually she gave very half assed apologies like “I’m sorry I tried to assert boundaries, invalidating you.” First, no you did not ever say “this is a boundary and here is what I will do if you step over it.” Second, I couldn’t even tell what the boundary was? Are you saying that the boundary is that you will not concede two people can experience the world differently? That your boundary is to be able to repeatedly disrespect me? Idk.

She then demanded apologies from me. I am at a loss for what she thinks I need to apologize for, as I repeatedly tried to understand her emotional state and not antagonize her more than needed to assert myself. So I asked for her help to tell me what words I said or actions lead to her feelings of invalidation. What I heard from her was basically “you didn’t think I have more experience than you” “you didn’t agree with my experience of what kinds of communication people like” and my personal favorite “you gaslit me by maintaining your positions.” I tried to reflect these back to her (in less judgmental language) to ask if I am hearing her right. She said no. I asked her to please help correct what I got wrong. She just said I was once again invalidating her. She has not said anything back.

I figured we were not getting anywhere really, because not only are her apologies still inappropriate and she has not shown any belief she was in the wrong here at all, she seems to want me to concede that I am not her equal, that I am beneath her, and I refuse to do that. Since this whole mediation was so important to mom, I texted her to say look I’m trying, this is where we ended up, i am doubting that this is salvageable right now and maybe ever, but if you think I am asking too much to be seen as an equal and that my experiences can be valid too, let me know. (I do not think it is too much, if she expects that of me then I have bigger family problems)

My mom decided to essentially say that I may not get this but I have to just focus on being okay with however my sister sees and treats me, that she has been doing this in general lately and it’s working for her.

And I honestly lost it. I gave out a very long response that:

Family is not blood but the people you trust in your inner circle, based on mutual respect, seeking each others betterment, need fulfillment, willingness to sacrifice wants for said need fulfillment, etc. Not “I was born into this” or “these people raised me or were raised with me.”

I have been repeatedly emotionally abused by my sister. When I was young I dished it back out. In my adult life I have tried to just accept it and manage my feelings about it, but abuse no matter what is damaging and I am being hurt by it.

My methods of managing my feelings related to her abuse are running thin as she is completely incapable of recognizing her abuse and is now putting it on me: if I call her out and ask for respect, she claims I am abusing her.

I am hurt by her implication that I should continue to take my sister’s abuse and just let it happen.

I have been asked to ignore my needs for others in the family repeatedly. I did take a lot in my adolescence and had very high needs so maybe I just took too much then, but I also think some of my very high needs back then we’re because my needs were ignored when I was even younger.

I am unsure if she really has felt safe asserting all of her needs and question if because she ignores her needs for others, she expects me to do the same.

She can claim this works for her but I have seen resentment in her for this. I have also seen her work on her resentment, but she does not consider that she could change the situation, only her thoughts, to manage the feeling. [implication that I didn’t outright say: if a situation repeatedly leads to resentment, your resentment may not be the “bad” thing that needs to be changed but the warning bells that you need a different situation]

Abuse is absolutely never okay and you cannot just will yourself to be okay with it. It is always damaging and will be damaging to even the strongest and most self assured person.

I will not tolerate abuse from anybody.

If somebody I see as family continues to abuse me, they are NOT my family. If the abuse is unintentional, I can consider opening back up for them once they work on their shit and understand they were abusive and actually apologize for said abuse. But I will not give them access to me to continue to abuse me.

My mom texted me back but I haven’t read it yet. It’s just crazy to me that I have to assert and remind them that hey, emotional abuse is happening, it’s been happening to me for as long as I can remember, I’m not absolved of any guilt and have been abusive at times too but to avoid constant contention I allowed myself to just be a whipping post, and now that I actually respect and love myself, I refuse to let that happen again. And that putting your foot down and being able to say “no you cannot abuse me” IS strength. And that ABSOLUTELY NOBODY should be expected to tolerate abuse, especially not just because they are family.

#personal

[guardianssystem]

You state being against the theory of Structural Dissociation because one of the writers abusing their patients, yet claim to be a RAMCOA survivor, despite that directly being part of the Satanic Panic, and following conspiracy theories such as the Blood Libel, and how "RAMCOA" was coined by Valerie Sinason and Colin Ross, who both had their license revoked for abusing their patients and implanting false memories of abuse in their head https://archive.org/details/EvidenceAgainstDr.ColinA.RossVol.1 now I'm wondering: where exactly are you researching "RAMCOA" for your system self-discovery?

TW probably

Hey, you seem to be assuming a lot.

We're not against the TOSD. It's helpful, it makes sense, it works. What we believe is that 1, systems can form from different things, which includes the TOSD and not, and 2, where trauma is suggested to cause splitting, that it could be pretty much anything that can cause splitting. We don't fully know how a child's brain works. But about the TOSD is our personal belief, not everyone's, and the cause of a system is decided by the system themself, not anyone else.

We also haven't said we're a RAMCOA survivor. What we've said is that we think our trauma could be RAMCOA, and that we were researching RAMCOA to find out.

In our own research of RAMCOA, we did hear about the satanic panic thing, yeah. But the actual story around that, RAMCOA, and what you mentioned was about people trying to invalidate RAMCOA and survivors, to make people ignore them so they could keep being abused.

We're.. not going to share what we've found with you, considering what you assumed about us, when you could have just asked. Or read.

RAMCOA systems, trauma, experiences, etc. are valid. They exist, and they're real. Whether we went through it or not, we don't yet know. We know we are a traumagenic system, we have DID, and we have PTSD and CPTSD. But we don't remember nearly enough to know everything we went through.

Also, if you send us another ask like this, we're going to be deleting it (and blocking if that's a thing Tumblr can do 🤷‍♂️)

-Crimson

#plural #plurality #system #ramcoa #traumagenic #did #osdd #ptsd #cptsd #endo safe

[goodbyeapathy8]

Hey @political-nuggets, this you hiding a love letter in the tags??

(for everyone else, TW for transphobia)

"As a Korean-American, you're not Korean"

Whew! Good thing I have you, internet stranger, to invalidate my very Korean passport! Guess I should head to the US Embassy to get a new one then? Would you be willing and able to sponsor the $1,000+ cost in getting US citizenship instead?

근데... 흠... 한국인이란걸 굳이 너 같은 애 한테 증멸할 필요가 있나 싶구나. 여튼.

As a Leo and a Dragon... everything IS about me. Especially on my Tumblr. You sound pressed and... Don't seem to understand how blogging works.

You see, on this here corner of the internet (aka my blog), I get to post up my take on things, especially the stuff I have expertise in. Namely, my own culture and how "people" like you are appropriating it for your own agenda, in addition to encouraging the fringe parts of a movement that not everyone in Korea agrees with. Including *gasp* women!

Anyway, I'm hard pressed to believe you're an actual human vs an angry random bot (hence the quotes) BUT if you were, you actually sound a lot angrier than me.

I've had a nice snacky snack today, I would suggest it for you, too, it does wonders for the constitution.

In all seriousness, I find it ironic (once again) that TERFs (unironically) show high levels of internalized misogyny. In today's example, it's the usage of "anger" as an insult.

It puzzled my autistic brain because I was not, in fact, angry posting when I put up my post about the 4B movement. But hark! As usual, misogyny is the foundation for the multiple accusations of me "sounding" "angry". (Well, in addition to racism of course but we covered that earlier.)

For a long time, hysteria was attributed to women to dismiss them (click here for info on its origin & usage) and, adjacent to hysteria, was the notion of anger (also to dismiss women as "illogical" and not capable of reason etc etc).

One can, in fact, be angry and still maintain logic + reason (unlike the tagged user, who illustrates multiple logical fallacies).

I'd write more but this is already another long post from me. Spent the time to post this because of the last bit about hysteria and anger, not because I thought TERF bot was worth spending time on.

Would send you a plant if I had money (because I don't think you'd actually touch grass) but it sounds like you're already having a tough time with your day so... pretend like I did! XOXO 😘

#Misandry #internalized misogyny #hello terf #terfism #4b movement #korean culture

[keshetchai]

I feel like ‘hey it’s fine for this to be how you feel, but acting as if it’s a hard and fast rule when educating doesn’t really work if you’re also acknowledging that it’s just your opinion’ should be easier to understand and yet,

Yeah. I think the original op and I kinda reached our mutual understanding on this but then other people are still going as if I was invalidating the discomfort, or making things up?

The discomfort is understandable and allowed and I respect that. The request that gentiles use specific language is great and fine. But the facts that I presented about actual Jewish mourning practice & liturgy are not obscure, unpopular, or even new, and they're also not my opinion.

My opinion is that you shouldn't mislead people (intentionally or unintentionally) or state things that simply aren't true when asking for someone to respect your discomfort or to acknowledge a preferred practice. My opinion is that educating gentiles, or resisting Christian hegemony — shouldn't mean rewriting current Jewish practice, or past longstanding Jewish history. My opinion is that we ought to genuinely take the intent of the speaker into account, and to ask ourselves if the other person is truly trying to convey kindness and compassion in a time of grief in a way that we do, in fact, also use.

And then ask myself like other things such as:

- did they do this to emphasize Christianity at me (hegemonically, evangelically), or is this simply the language they know and the way they know how to convey this care? I can be uncomfortable either way, but in one case I am uncomfortable with a unique individual enacting a system of hegemony, and in another I am just frustrated with the system itself and not the person. Sometimes articulating that difference is helpful and frankly, healing. We live in a society, idk.

- is it possible that somehow, I have been this person, saying something not technically wrong, but perhaps not the best or most comfortable thing for the person hearing me? (Almost certainly). Intent is not everything, but like, it does contextualize things! It obviously matters if I mean to be respectful but come off wrong footed due to someone else's feelings on something — that's very different than intentionally trying to condescend or diminish.

Op probably did not intend for this to blow up. Tumblr randomly promoted a jumblr post to me, and I responded to correct a fact that part of their premise rested on. Jumblr had this same old discourse back in 2020, and even before that, and like, I reiterated old facts. It floats around and isn't new - this is a common claim people make ("Jews never say rest in peace,") that other people debunk every so often on this site. I don't mind if their conclusion is still "I don't like that."

It's like...analogy: I am not asking everyone to feel comfortable with every verse or mitzvah in the Torah. I understand and appreciate that certain things in the Torah also make me uncomfortable, and those things aren't the same for every Jew. But I can sympathize even if we don't have the same discomforts. I can wrestle with those things, I can emphasize what I think is better or more comfortable within the Torah, what I think takes higher importance in Torah over the uncomfortable things, I can question how I understand the verse, I can question my own discomfort and other's comfort, why we differ and what that means — all of that — but whether or not I'm comfortable, the thing is still in the Torah.

I think I'm also just baffled by some of the responses like - not the ones from op, but everyone else responding to me? The logic is...really weird! I didn't address half the arguments made because they're just strange. And then half of them are like...what do they even intend when they say this? Like this idea that burial and memorial liturgy shouldn't count in a discussion about how Jews talk when memorializing our dead, because it's just "liturgy." That argument made me feel like I was in the twilight zone lmao. I'm not going to apologize for understanding our religion lol.

Also absolutely not a single soul addressed my citing Chabad and Shiva.com (which is expressly aimed at helping even non-jews understand how Jews deal with death, mourning, and burial!) And that is BONKERS to me.