#WOMEN IN STEM RISE UP

[six-of-ravens]

i swear to god im going to update my email signature to "I AM NOT YOUR PROJECT MANAGER JUST BECAUSE I REPLIED TO THIS EMAIL. DO NOT BE FOOLED BY THE FEMININE NAME IM NO ADMIN BITCH. PLEASE NEVER EMAIL ME AGAIN."

or just change my name to Stephen and see if that works.

[piratefishmama]

"Straight Guy" Rockstar Eddie Munson having a dating life not dissimilar to Pete Davidson, all like, Grade A bombshells while he's just this scrappy little rat man who, while extremely talented himself, while being a music industry mega star, is also just funny enough to land these women by making them laugh real Jessica Rabbit style, an he's so sweet too, bit of a vulgar pest but he's sweet.

He also has serious issues stemming from his fucked childhood though, and these women are all giants in their fields, they don't have time for those issues, they can't afford the bad publicity that comes with his issues rising up.

So those relationships land in the papers, there's tons of bad publicity, and then they inevitably explode a few months down the line.

He's been in rehab three times. It's not working.

It's only when the bands good fans start being drowned out by the criticisms of haters and articles and all kinds of awful memes and jokes that Gareth and Jeff call in reinforcements because this cannot continue.

In comes Steve.

Sweet sweet reformed jock turned co-owner of a cosy little bookshop that Robin fell in love with and just had to have him buy with her, Steve. Eddie's second best friend from after highschool, during that sweet spot period just before opportunity swept Corroded Coffin up into the chaos of fame.

And Eddie winds up dropped off at Steve's two bed apartment for an extended stay to get his shit sorted away from the public eye.

And maybe they kiss about it.

[neptxn3]

Astrology Observations II

｡:ﾟ૮ ˶ˆ ﻌ ˆ˶ ა ﾟ:｡

Disclaimer, these are observations I have made through personal experience and thorough research, observations also vary depending on other natal placements involved

doesn’t resonate ≠ untrue 

♅ Virgos tend to represent the trad wife far more than people assume taurus does, and that’s because Virgos ability to uphold their life (at least on the outside) tend to attract men who want a wife that can keep them on track

Some Virgo women tend to also attract gay men unfortunately 😭, again I think Virgos just seem like the perfect trad Wife and it will attract closeted men like flies. This isn’t to say all your partners will be closeted but the ones who are overly aggressive on your role in the relationship might be.

♅ Gemini moon children develop QUICKLY. These are usually the kids who weird you out with their extensive knowledge and self awareness that seemingly comes out of nowhere. The mercury influence allows them to digest many topics which in turn has Gemini moon children mentally developing at a faster pace than their peers

I’ve also observed Gemini moons are those annoying kids in your class that are a lot smarter and a bit condescending to others intelligence, not because that’s just the way they are, but their mercurial moon needs constant stimulation, and with a combination of their rapid growth you’ll see them climbing academic ranks which in turn can make them dislike school if they are not progressing at a speed they like. 

♅ Scorpio moons have a tendency to see the worst in every situation/person which can be a nasty habit, but this isn’t out of judgment, rather they don’t like to give people the benefit of the doubt. They don’t like to be screwed over and their best bet is to think of the worst scenario possible. 

♅ Aquarius Venus who are flaky in relationships and constantly cheat will eventually have karma handed back to them, usually in the form of being in their mid 40’s still single.

Aquarius Venus flaky reputation does stem from the fact that it is a Saturn influenced placement, as well as being fixed. It’s not that they hate any type of restriction to their freedom but rather to what extent you restrict them to. They can and will jump quickly into relationships but if they see any glimpse of possessive or controlling attributes they will leave. Again because it’s fixed and Saturn influenced Aquarius Venus knows once it settles down that’s it, they’re not going anywhere, that’s why they’re so scattered to find the right person who fits their criteria. 

♅ Moon/Sun harshly aspecting Neptune is the embodiment of “I hate my Mom/Dad, but I love her/him too”. Neptune harshly aspecting these planets can cause a huge wall of misunderstanding between parent and child, but Neptune blurs the lines so deep that the individual sees them “through rose colored glasses” and if incapable of harboring hate. I would even say there could be nights where these people will look back and remember their past relationships (Neptune = Dreams)

♅ 10h placements can sometimes struggle maintaining relationships due to the very contradicting nature of the Midheaven and ascendant. Usually people will perceive them to be very different from who they actually are.

This is also why they struggle with their self esteem (the natural square to the ascendant). Sometimes they feel like they need to keep up an image to satisfy others and that isn’t someone who they truly are 🥲

In synastry this also points to partners trying to change who they are/make choices for them because they think it’s “for the best” or “what’s good for them”. 

♅ Every Virgo rising I’ve met always gives me a small lesson on why astrology isn’t real but follow up with a “but can you read my chart I want to see if it’s true 👀”. I truly believe it’s the 12h Leo which makes them secretly a little self centered (hence the interest for things like astrology to attempt and figure themselves out) but the mercurial ascendant will always make them skeptical 😭

♅ Saturn conjunct Jupiter natives is a dangerous fire sometimes. I’ve noticed if they haven’t learned to balance this aspect in their chart, the people around them can suffer their warm and cold attitude. It’s almost as if one second you could be hysterically laughing in class together, and the next second they immediately stop and ask you to be serious and finish your work. WHERE DID THE VIBE GOOO?? The key here is moderation in whichever sign/house this is in

♅ Whoever said Neptune in hard aspect to Venus needs to practice saying positive affirmations (especially to Venus related topics) to themselves in the mirror was SO correct. Neptune indeed does reflect lies to you and reaffirming yourself in the mirror breaks that spell. I don’t think I’ve felt so beautiful since I started doing this. 

[onelittlespiral]

FML: Sealed

The plan was simple, if time consuming. Rent some apartments out, and wait. Of course, there were some preparation required. First, buy an old apartment building, something not too expensive and not too flashy. Make some small changes to the central air system and temperature control. Bring the whole thing up to code and install a beautiful, in building gym. Hire a team of savvy young women to help manage the apartments. Then, carefully and selectively rent out the one bed, one bath apartments to single, young men who showed promise. Some were just graduated 20-somethings, with a bright future ahead in STEM careers. Some were trust fund kids moving to the city for the first time, drawn to the quickly gentrifying downtown. Some were just personal pet projects that I wanted to see grow into their potential. Like this fellow:

I wanted to see what would happen on a bit more of a bear-ish body type. We set him up in Unit 514. Or this bro:

He was already pretty close to what we wanted our final results to look like. But I wanted to see how much we could push him. Unit 112, low and close to the gym. Good eye candy for some of the twinks we set up on the sixth floor. After about 3 months, every unit in the building had been filled, all eight floors. It was the first of June, around 4 a.m. when we had verified all residents were home. The overnight receptionist was sent home early for the day as upstairs, all door locks were remotely engaged, power was cut, and the new air conditioners kicked in. All subjects were sealed in their experiment chambers.

Slowly but surely, a thick fog billowed from each bedroom’s vents. It was a thick, sticky vapor, smelling like sandalwood and cool like peppermint. Subjects’ rooms were soon filled as they began breathing it in deeply. Some began to toss in their sleep, subconsciously fighting the mist, while others just huffed away and began the absorption process. One fellow on the second floor managed to toss himself awake, but was quickly sedated by an extra pump of vaporized melatonin added to his room.

As the men all settled down and opened up, the mist began absorbing into their bodies through any gap available: mouth, nose, pores, cocks, and asses. Within thirty minutes, the last of the gas has been administered, and all subjects were once more peacefully at rest. Bodies began twitching and pulsing as faint moans emitted from some of the smaller men’s mouths. The experiment had began.

The first to wake up in the morning was a subject in apartment 211. His transformation was among the more subtle. The lanky guy had put on a few pounds of muscle as his beard thickened and some hair grew in. He immediately began to sense something was off, as he felt his body and now bushy beard. He tried to check his phone. Dead. He gets up and tries to walk out into the apartment. Locked. A look of confusion sets in as he sits and tries to think of what to try next. That is when it catches him. With the power out and the sun rising, temperatures were rising. And as he began to sweat, he began to smell:

The gasses that seeped in last night were slowly beginning to seep back out, causing more radical changes. But this second exposure is different. It is coming from inside him, and carries his unique pheromones with it. This gas is heroin to him, designed to addict his body to its presence and slowly bring out the best in him. And as the smell fills his nostrils for a second time, he is fighting the urge to give in. Give into himself and what he is becoming. He knows that the smell is rancid, musky and earthy with notes of spice that burn his nostrils. But it is a lost cause. As he huffs away at his own funk, he glides his free hand down his chest, feeling thick, matted hair and slick abs. He takes a moment to feel his muscles twitching and stretching as his skin becomes sensitive to the touch. He wraps his sweaty, calloused hand around his cock, and begins to pump.

Once he begins to pleasure himself, there is very minimal risk of a reversal. The changes are rapid and extensive his body grows to match the smell that now saturates the air around him. Muscles swell, bones crack and reshape, feet stretch, and his eyes roll in the back of his head as he starts to drool. The fog settling into his brain leaves no room for inhibitions as he starts to self worships his pit, devouring his own sweat. Our scanners also begin to detect deterioration in brain activity. The pleasure center is growing, eating into non-essential regions like memory and comprehension. No part of the original subject is left unchanged as he continues to evolve into a sweaty, smelly, hairy beast of a man. And as he reaches climax, he lets out a deep roar as all inhibitions about his new form are shot out the swollen mushroom tip of his cock. He rolls his foreskin back up and shoves his filthy cock into a pair of sweatpants.

He stares at his body, flexing and feeling up his muscles. Experiment 211 has been a success, able to turn a scrawny nerd into a horny, sweaty, smelly gym bro with an insatiable need to fuck. Now we just need to test how powerful his sperm and scent are. He hears a click as his chamber is unlocked. We pulse the lights in the room with a code his mind will understand. He now knows his mission is to go over to Apartment 212 and begin round two of testing…

It is a bit later in the morning now and subjects all around are beginning to wake up and face their new reality. Through our camera network we watch as their transformations are slowly taking place, as muscle, fat, and fur are packed on and a cloud of musk begins to cloud the room.

And slowly as men finish their first rounds, their chambers are unsealed. They begin to wander and find their neighbors, mixing musks to help each other grow and change even more.

The experiment will run sealed off from the general public, at least until new subjects are needed to collect additional data points. Interested parties are encouraged to apply now to our waitlist. Otherwise, we expect to host an open house next month, with all subjects free to leave the complex and continue experimenting as they see fit. I can already tell that our friend we started with in Unit 514 will be popular.

Thank you for your time today. We expect to see you again very soon.

[midnightwriter21]

May I have one where Giyuu saves a 4 year old girl from a demon and thus decides to adopt her? The girl is very quiet, like Tomioka quiet but also very friendly and curious. She hates loud noises due to coming from an abusive home and is often found on Giyuu? Headcanons please

demon slayer hcs: giyuu's adopted daughter

characters: fem!reader x giyuu, the hashira

HOW THEY MEET

giyuu arrives at the location for his mission

it was reported that a lower class family had been turned into demons and were recking havoc on the small town they lived in

at nightfall giyuu approaches the home of the demon family and is greeted by the father and mother

as well as a human child

the two demon parents toy with the child

pushing her to the ground

pulling her hair

but when the father raises a clawed hand to her

giyuu takes the opportunity

before the strike can land on the childs face

the demons heads have already hit the ground

the child stares at the severed heads with a blank look

immediately giyuu is kneeling in front of her to block the line of sight

and he is assessing the damage done to her and asking

"do you have other family?"

the girl stays silent but shakes her head

he stands abruptly causing the child to flinch and his eyes soften

by now the sun has begun to rise and the bodies of the demons are gone

giyuu walks into the house to find anything of necessity for the child

and he is disgusted to see that even though the family had no obvious lack of money

the child was provided NOTHING of importance

feeling a small hand latch onto his haori he looks down

and with a sigh giyuu is carefully picking her up and beginning the walk back his estate

THEIR RELATIONSHIP

several months after the incident a meeting is called with the hashira

before leaving his estate Giyuu receives a letter

taking it from his crow and quickly reading it Giyuu walks to the backyard

sitting there amongst the flowers is the young girl he saved

he walks to her and reaches out a hand to help her up

she takes it, stands, and then motions for him to lean down

he does

and then she plops a flower crown on the top of his head

its messy and its more stems and leaves then flowers but giyuu allows it

together they leave the estate and begin the travel to the butterfly mansion for the meeting

standing outside of the mansion the child digs her heels into the ground due to her nervousness stopping giyuu in his tracks

he kneels to her height taking the makeshift crown from his head and placing it on hers

and then reaches out a hand

she takes it and then he opens the door to the mansion

MEETING THE OTHER SLAYERS

as the door opens and they step into the room hand in hand all heads turn to them

a small women with purple hair and a teasing smile is the first to speak, "you're late Tomioka"

before the other slayers can add to her comment

a man with a gentle voice speaks "he is late because I had a last minute request for him"

he turns to Giyuu

"is she here?"

the other slayers murmur their confusion

Giyuu just gently tugs the hand of the girl and pulls her from behind him with a "she is"

The man introduces himself as the leader of the demon slayer corps and then asks for her to be introduced to the other people in the room before giving a gentle smile and leaving

The slayers go around the room introducing themselves

Tengen, Mitsuri, and Obanai were nice enough

Muichiro was kind but reintroduced himself 3 times because he forgot what was happening

Sanemi was intimidating and angry

Shinobu was also very nice but the girl didn't like how she interacted with her adoptive parent so rudely

and Kyojuro was a bit too loud

soon enough the girl finds herself sitting in the lap of the love hashira having her hair braided while the rest of the hashira are poking fun at Giyuu

the girl sits there silently watching until Sanemi takes it a step too far

"the poor girl probably doesn't even like you! i sure fucking don't. she's probably miserable staying with y-"

"don't be mean to him!"

silence

its the first words she spoken since she walked through the door

running and latching onto Giyuu's leg she glares at Sanemi

"the only person I don't like is you!" before hiding her face in Giyuu's leg

no one says a word

until Tengen bursts out laughing lol

quickly Sanemi becomes the victim of teasing and Giyuu and the child are forgotten

Giyuu kneels down to her and puts a hand on her head

gives her a small smile quick enough so that no one else sees

picks her up and they head back home together

im soft for papa giyuu

[novasintheroom]

I heard your call and I came as fast as I could

"A kiss stemmed from jealousy" with Prince Vash💕

*smooches you* thank you Miriam!!!!

--

Vash does his best to not snap the glass stem in his hand. He hears your laugh, and flinches.

"Are you going to do anything about it?" Wolfwood murmurs at his side, openly staring at the spectacle.

There's plenty of guests at this party tonight. A small crowd of nobles and dignitaries, with the one royal sibling in attendance. And across the way, you've taken to speaking with a very tall, very handsome looking man. One that had all the good jokes, apparently.

You laugh again. Vash swirls the wine in his glass and takes a plaintive sip. "She's just talking."

His friend looks over the black-tinted glasses hanging off his nose. "With her former fiancé. You know, the one she'd be married to by now if it wasn't for you?"

It does the opposite effect of spurring Vash to action; the prince hunches, looking into his glass with a sad smile. "We're just friends, Nico. She can - "

He sees it, in the corner of his eye. The way your former fiance swoops down and presses his lips to your cheek. Then another, closer to your mouth. A gasp emits from you, tittering from the women and men around you.

A debacle in the making.

Vash is moving before he realizes. In a moment, he's got an arm around your waist, and he'll wonder later where his wine went, because he gently pushes your former back with his other hand. "I think," he says, "you've had a little too much wine tonight, sir."

The man blinks, and Vash is surprised to say he's right - the man's eyes are blurry, nearly red with drunkenness. Had he come here this way? It doesn't matter. What does matter is getting you away from him before he tries to make more of a scene -

With Vash's wife.

He leads you away with a gentle hand on your lower back, and he preens at how quickly you mold to his side. Still, he casts a wary glance over his shoulder. Your fiance is being held back by guards, shouting after you. "You were meant to be mine! You were meant to have my children!" Wolfwood swoops in, and suddenly the man goes quiet.

You're led into one of the further corridors, away from the party.

You were meant to be mine!...My children...!

It takes a moment for the ringing in his ears to subside, to realize you've been quietly talking to him the whole time. " - and I didn't know he would do that; you have to believe me, Vash, I was just trying to entertain - "

He spins to you and places his hands on your shoulders. He feels the goosebumps rise on your skin under his fingers. "You're alright?"

That stops your talking. Slowly, you nod your head. "Had I known he would do that, I would have made my leave." Tears are in your eyes, perhaps from embarrassment, perhaps from fear of how Vash would react. He couldn't say.

"And you...you didn't want...?" He isn't sure what he's asking, but you shake your head all the same. He sighs, pulling you into a hug. "Good...good."

You both stand there a moment, soaking in the comfort of the other. Then, Vash has an idea. He pulls you away from him, and you look up with shiny eyes. He wipes away the tears that have fallen on your cheeks, then, swiftly, he leans down and presses his lips at your cheek, then your other, then a final one on your nose. "No one," he says, "is allowed to kiss you without permission...besides me, of course."

It elicits a watery laugh from you. "Of course."

[startographist]

☆ﾟ⁠ . * ･⁠ ｡ﾟDEAR SOULMATE — PROLOGUE I 🪽

prev. mlist. next

wistful, dreamy, and vague— those are the three words kazuha describes kunikuzushi's pieces. wistful that you can feel the nostalgia by just looking at it, dreamy and vague as if it lets the viewers reciprocate what the piece truly means. 

but one thing about kunikuzushi's pieces that makes them genuinely recognizable is the muse.

in every painting, a muse in white is always included, if it's not the main focus of the piece, the muse is present.

kunikuzushi doesn't know why he paints a specific muse either, he certainly can't say that it's a force of habit or has seen the muse before in fact, the muse is just a product of his void of imagination.

every time that he tries not to paint the muse he either ends up unconsciously painting her or he feels that something is missing...

there's no denying that painting her was an unspoken law itself.

and he dared not to break it.

because from the base of her neck to the arch of her eyelids, her beauty made a slave of him.

 

soulmates. he thought it was worthless.

soulmates are a useless and unpleasant concept, the red string tied to his pinky finger is served as a distraction for him.

and the idea of commitment itself scares him and as if being tied to another is gonna change everything... he's abandoned after all, hope isn't gonna do anything hell— it will crush you to pieces, he knows it too damn well.

but with a red string looped to his finger twitching, he wonders...will his soulmate be the one who'll heal him? some even suggest that the muse in white is his soulmate, whether it's true or not, he doesn't care or so he thinks...

he's in a sheer in denial but one day, he dreams, he'll have his soulmate to dedicate all of his pieces... and so, he secretly waits for that day...

a hint of elegance and serenity, its aroma dancing around her, each sniff leaving a feeling of contentment that made her grin. she can still feel the softness of petals on her fingertips. she admired the sight that made her eyes beam with admiration as she grasped the stem between her index and thumb.

she knelt in front of the flowers, which looked at her with grandeur that she would never achieve. she wasn't bothered by other people's conversations or footsteps since her complete attention was on the flowers in front of her.

they danced whenever the wind was too strong outdoors. the noises of gasping from the women wearing skirts could be heard, but she was unaffected. she desires a stronger breeze so that the flowers can swing gracefully with it. the scarlet string in her pinky twitched, yet she chose to be ignorant as her attention still on flowers.

when one of the petals dropped on her hand, she giggled. It was blue, a colour that many people consider basic, yet any colour mixed with it makes it appear much more lively in her opinion. despite the noises in the distance, she feels as if she's in heaven since everything is just too serene for her.

she worried that the peacefulness will soon be disrupted by unwanted tragedy.

a special butterfly was letting itself arrive and dance with the breeze as the tiny shop's bell chimed. such a small object with a kaleidoscope of colours whirling around it, a tiny work of art that drew her gaze in enjoyment.

as it landed gently on one of the petals, its wings fluttered in a little way. she gazed at it, and no matter how much she deny it, she believe it stared back at her. it soared away, high and free, with one hand rising and her fingertip almost brushing its wings. she wonders oh-so carefully, maybe this butterfly is my soulmate, she thinks.

she runs after the butterfly, ignoring the stares from people who thought it was a childish act. bumping into different people but she paid no mind as her eyes and mind are focused on the little creature that entranced her minutes ago.

then again, the scarlet string started twitching, perhaps glowing.

she ran after it, but she stopped when it landed on someone else. again blue is the color she tends to ignore, but somehow it caught her eye this time on an ordinary day. she got lost and instead stared at those ocean eyes as the man was crouching down and studying the flowers in front of him.

she looks down on her pinky finger again. and there, it glows.

the way the flowers danced once more made everything perfect. there was so much beauty that she felt it was out of this world. at this point, she felt butterflies in her stomach take over her and her emotions.

"woah..." she uttered under her breath, almost as if the scene in front of her had taken her breath away.

her finger landed on one of the petals, his fingertip barely brushing against hers as it was on the other side of the flower, put on another petal. she was so close, yet so far away; if she had only allowed herself to get closer, she might have been able to reach him.

she could've reached towards the beauty itself.

It wasn't the butterfly that drew her attention anymore; instead, it was his figure. His colourslors and build, his physical traits, with his fingertip almost brushing against hers.

Her gaze never broke from his, and as the bell rang again, those stunning eyes finally met hers.

glowing red string,  eyes locked, both bamboozled.

two individuals stare at each other seemingly bewitched to each other.

her, who is hauntingly beautiful, and him who's gorgeous as a porcelain doll...

in the midst of the serenic warmth of inazuma, summer joy filled atmosphere, two individuals are in chase of finding what this all means.

"it's you." he muttered under his breath, cursing at the fact that he feels the nervousness brimming to his nerves.

she shakily stood up, eyes wide in shock. and as funny as it is, she wore a white dress highlighting the fact that the muse in his paintings was not a product of his imagination but is actually his soulmate. this also highlights her beauty even more, with golden hues of warm sun pouring over her figure.

her e/c eyes scanned over his short stature, seemingly entranced at the doll-like features.

"you're pretty..." she breathed.

the first change of words was sure a bittersweet one.

to be entangled with someone forever was already a bittersweet fate.

and yet here they are, ready to face the pre-birth agreement they made...

TAGLIST (open) ; @sakiimeo

NOTES ; uuuuu im so tiredge // credits to yizheng ke on art station on slide one !!

smau by startographist! plagiarizing, distributing and translating without the author's permission is a violation against creative rights.

[ur-mousey]

Kiss Up, Bitch ~

Toxic Lesbians = Nicole x Jecka

Imagine! Nicole prowling around the pool deck. Her back was on fire from the glare of the sun. People screeched around her like drowning pelicans. Beach balls and volleyballs spun in the air, awaiting its shot to her temple. She had already dodged three. And, she realized seven shots in that her brain singled out the summer day noises. Every soft whisper played on a loop -Especially Ari's gay ass. She just wanted all of them to shut up.

It's her shit luck that she found herself at a Kylar Party.

Ari sang I Kissed a Girl at a high-pitched chirp. She lounged on a pink sprinkle donut floaty, incapable of keeping herself upright without it. Each word carried over the pool's lazy currents and under the blast of heavy rap music straight toward Nicole's pulsing head. Maybe it was because the breakup was fresh that her tone-deaf melody pissed Nicole off.

The taste of her cherry chapstick I kissed a girl just to try it I hope my boyfriend don't mind it

Imagine! Nicole found irony in the last line. She bullied a *slur* bitch into being straight. Jecka saw it as wrong. Nicole saw it as taking a weak-minded lesbian off the streets.

*she got censored*

Ari will forever be dicked down. And she'll think, 'Men don't cut it. A penis can only go so far when it's attached to a future pedophile.' In the middle of the night, when her boyfriend dozed off (after another night of limited pleasure), an image of Nicole would come to mind.

Ari'll think, 'I miss that villainous whore who'll burn cigs on my thighs while giving me the most amazing of heads. What a wild lesbian ride. Too bad it was shortlived.'

And too bad, Ari couldn't grow a pair of balls to date women. If you're gonna backpedal on your sexuality, just never claim it. Nicole couldn't tell where her anger stemmed from in regards to Ari.

She felt frustrated. Over what? Who knows! She doesn't even get it all herself.

Imagine! Nicole, as a toxic lesbian herself, gets the bright idea to let off some steam. She wondered if the opposite applied.

Could she bully a straight-girl gay? Time to fuck with Jecka.

>>>

Imagine! Jecka lying in the bed of a truck, snuffing her cig out on the floor, feet lifted and parallel to the back of the seats. It's not her's obvi -she drives a cute white buggy. Her steering wheel cover had elegant gold trim that catches the summer glint perfectly.

The hollering of teenage boys seemed far off but filled the void of the cul-de-sac. "How fucking white?" Jecka muttered to herself. She was certain Kylar invited just the white kids from school. Were there even black kids?

There was Emily, Ari, Nicole, Kylar... yeah, everyone's white.

Imagine! Jecka nodding off while the sun fades in and out behind her closed lids. She's wearing a classic two-piece that's tied on both hips in the color sapphire blue. It wasn't a color she adorned often. The set complimented her pale fawnskin, and it brought out the pinks of her cheeks.

She should wear sapphire more often.

Jecka's stunning in pinks. She often wore it. Baby blue shorts, white shirt. Low rises, stomach showing, ass out. But never a deeper blue.

Never the color of the ocean, a precious gem, awaiting to drown her.

Imagine! Jecka, on the cusp of sleep, heard the call of her name. Far off at first, then beside her ear after multiple turns. A finger wrapped around her bouncy curls. Jecka stirred awake. One eye lifted to see a pair of sapphire blue. Oh, it was Nicole.

"Wakey, wakery~" Nicole purred over her. "I've been looking for you."

"Found me," Jecka hummed. She closed her eyes once more. "I don't think I wanna."

"No?"

Imagine! Nicole leaning closer to her best friend. "I could wake you up some." She reached over, fiddling with Jecka's floppy bow on her hip. "I could go down on you."

Jecka squinted up, "No. What the fuck? Not interested. Let me return to sunbathing."

"You napping... is sunbathing?"

"Yeah~ I get both done at once. I'm outside. Wake me later if I start to get burned." Jecka waved Nicole's sexual harassment aside.

Nicole flopped onto her belly, she kicked her legs out from under her quicker than she could fathom. "Not happening. I think we should at make out. Spice it up."

"What needs to be spiced up is food, Nicole." Jecka rolled onto her belly, now face-to-face with the narcissist in question. "If your that horny to makeout with me, go find Ari. I bet she'll looove attention."

Imagine! Nicole pouting at the thought. Jecka's nose turned up at the gesture. "What? Hate the suggestion. But sorry to break it to you. I'm not gay. Find Emily, she's obsessed with you. She'll cheat just to pop her female cherry. I'm kinda surprised that she never slept with a girl before." And after the end of her little spiel, Nicole attacked.

And Jecka vaguely heard, "Kiss up, bitch."

Nicole's tongue was in her mouth, and Jecka squealed. It fit snuggly between the gap of her teeth. The tang of tequila was hot on Jecka's breath. Nicole's tongue flickered over hers, running over her teeth. A whine spilled between them. Who knew a girl's lips were this soft.

Jecka tried shoving Nicole aside to little avail. Maybe it was futile to resist sapphire eyes. Even when shut, they drowned Jecka's mind.

'Was she wearing cherry chapstick?' She thought, swimming with the waves that would surely cast her adrift.

.............................. Thank you for reading! Request rules are here! I am backed up on ideas at the moment. Meaning it'll take me a while to get to your requests. P.S. I made a graphic (I just added text really, and a slight color correction).

>>> CLASS OF 09' POST: Imagine! Yan!Reader! x Nicole!

I decided to add a song link to all my Imagines to give it more of a feel. But you can take it or leave it. Let me know below! Fun fact, my middle name is Nicole. Also- they weren't that toxic.

[witchie-writings]

So, let's entertain the idea that Dante has a kid, yeah?

This child is Dante's pride and joy. Dante loves them dearly; amongst all the death and decay of his everyday life, their optimism and wonder shines through it all to guide Dante through the darkened path. Even if they're no longer in their youthful days and now prosper as a fully fledged devil-hunter, Dante would always see them as his little jackpot. 

Now, imagine that they traveled alongside Dante to Urizen's fortress, alongside Trish and Lady. Dante's kid, having inherited the famous hunter’s craving for a good fight, was eager to battle this powerful demon. It makes it no surprise that while Dante slugged along through the roads playing catch up, his kid and the two women were already engaged in battle with the rising Devil King.

It continues as expected. Trish, Lady, and Dante's kid are bested, leaving Dante to battle against Urizen for hours with no end. V and Nero make an appearance, Nero battles Urizen, Dante has to step in to give Nero a chance to escape.

Dante, ultimately, loses; Rebellion is shattered under the heel of Urizen's might. Thrown back against the wall of mangled roots and pulsing organic flesh, the Demon King moves to snatch the Legendary Hunter. Long tendrils lash out from the throne of thorns, intent on drawing in Dante to absorb his power and further the will of Urizen — only for Dante's kid to throw themselves in the path of the king's grasp; the narrowed edges tear through their body like paper, crimson rushing out of their newly formed wounds to stain their clothes and the floor below. Trails of it peak from the corners of their mouth and their eyes now stricken with fear.

They collapsed, and the only thing Dante could see was red. Trish had enough strength to throw him Sparda in hopes that its power would be enough — with a steel grip and renewed vigor, the legendary hunter threw himself blindly at the Demon King, utilizing his Devil Trigger and harnessing the fury of his emotions to see the mission through.

Yet, it wasn't enough. Like a fly, Dante was swatted away. And thus, he found himself locked in a coma. He could not awaken, he couldn't even stir, even though he desperately wanted to. In this scenario, it wasn't Dante's childhood memory of being saved by his mother that repeated itself. It was the grueling nightmare of watching his child, his flesh and blood, get pierced by the blades of the Demon King. Dante's fear only amplified the nightmare further than he ever would've wanted. 

That terrified look in their eyes, tears cascading down pale cheeks with hair stained with red and blackened soot. He could see the fear of death consume them from the inside out.

He wanted to reach out, to save them, to comfort them, but he could do nothing as their blood was drained from their dying body. All that remains is a veiny husk.

When V awakes him, Dante wouldn't be his normal self. While he retains his wit, his attitude is notably more violent and less restrained. He’s desperately clinging to whatever hope remains brooding in his heart that his child is alive — they're alive, they have to be.

Only, when the hunter acquires his Sin Trigger and rushes to save Nero at the Qliphoth, he takes notice of a husk in the corner of his eye. One that outlines a similar silhouette; they were kneeled over a sword, the metal now engraved into the floor by the blood roots of the tree. In the outline of the hand that remains is a necklace, one that Dante remembers his kid making for the both of them to share.

Dante is no longer the same after the realization hits him.

The wacky persona that he is so commonly known for is now replaced by a wrathful anger. His temper is easily ignited, patient now becoming a foreign concept. Dante is more aggressive and adamant that Nero remain behind (stemming from the growing fear that Nero might suffer the same fate), but V? He is trying his hardest not to explode on the poet.

Dante knows who he is, Sparda it’s obvious. The same book that Dante stole numerous times during his boyhood days, nightmare versions of past devils that cling to V’s skin like a foul curse. As much as he tries to reason with himself that V is his own separate individual and that he had no part in the death of his child, Dante couldn’t fight back his anger. If V and Urizen were a part of the same being, then in Dante's mind, they share the same sins as one another. 

Once Vergil returns, Dante’s anger is increased tenfold. All he could process is the rage and anguish that floods his heart, and Vergil is aware of this. He knows what he has done, and I can honestly imagine that Vergil believes he deserves the cruelest of punishment for what he has done to his little brother; Vergil has done many things in his pursuit of power, but now with a clarity of mind, does he realize that he has gone too far. To take away the one thing that kept Dante grounded and brought peace to his otherwise shattered life?

At the end of it all, I don't think Dante would want to stay in Hell with Vergil, not after what happened, and Vergil would be okay with this.

Dante has had no proper chance to mourn, and him being trapped in Hell with the same person (not the same person, but still a piece of them) that killed his child wouldn't help him process his child's passing any better.

Back at the Devil May Cry, he'd block everyone out. Nero, Trish, Lady, Morrison, none of them could get close to Dante. Dante goes out on his own to pursue an endless onslaught of devils to occupy his mind, but from the months that travel by, he is plagued by the same nightmare that haunted him during his time in a coma. Every time he closes his eyes, he could see them dying, and he was powerless to stop it.

Dante would never be the same.

[zorosbeau33]

Valhalla Calling~ Todoroki Shoto Song Timestamp

❖ MHA/BNHA, Shoto Todoroki x Gender Neutral Reader

❖ Timestamp, Fluff

❖ Tw: Alcohol

❖ wc: 540

❖ @d0uble0hd0nut @tojiseviltwin @kimnamshiks ❖ Masterlist ❖

. ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ��� ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Inspired by the Song Valhalla Calling~ All characters are college age or older~ Rating 18+

. ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

The deep thrum vibrated through the soil, rocks shivering with each blow. The air itself seemed to tremble with the rolling boom of the mallets striking the skin of the drum. Fifty voices rumbling in unison, tones full of vigor and anticipation of battle. His fingers dug into the cloth of his pants, hair standing on end as he watched the men and women twirl around the fire and stamp their booted feet into the deep grass of the verdant field. Nothing had prepared them for such a sight, the mead burning through their veins causing a fire to fill even his tempered blood. Todoroki took several shallow breaths, back straightening as a maiden danced past him her voice falling and rising with the enthralling cadence.

“Are you okay?” Shoto looked over at you bewildered, pupils dilating as his breath came out in icy puffs. It took him several moments before he could simply nod, gesturing weakly with one hand at the gathering they had joined. He’d never felt such a call in his gut with simple music before today. Now on as he clutched his mead horn tighter, Todoroki felt life blazing in his chest and coursing through his limbs in a deep beat like a heartbeat. Driven further into a frenzy with the measured drumming and pounding all around him he wasn’t sure how to impart his feelings. 

The mission had been an easy one, find the source of where the illegal drugs had been stemming into the world from. Now on the international task force, you both had met many interesting individuals and mission complete, villains locked away, and drugs safely dealt with you had taken up the offer of the Norwegian team leader and his partner to attend a party to celebrate. He had not explained that it would be a historic party, honoring the Vikings to which several of the team members took their hero persona and family history from. The town had welcomed you all eagerly and now hearing the voices of the throng lifted together in song and dance, well Todoroki could certainly feel “Valhalla Calling” him as well.

Your gentle touch to his cheek helped ground him for a moment and he sucked in a deep breath before the flickering firelight and sonorous call could stir him further to battle or what else he did not know. Closing his eyes he concentrated upon the subtle scent you had dotted upon your wrists in preparation for the party, and the cool of your palm against his heated cheek. His heart still seemed to beat in time with the drums however his head felt clearer upon opening his eyes. The heat that had radiated from his skin was milder now and he gave you a tiny lopsided smile. 

“Thank you.” He whispered, perhaps it was the mead, or maybe the enchantment of the music but he lost his usual iron-clad walls and leaned in placing a gentle but sensual kiss on your lips. His arm sliding around your waist, Todoroki would remember that night forever as the night the Viking songs of yore drove him to finally live in the moment and profess his ardent passion for you as more than just a friend.

[allthecanadianpolitics]

The federal government will be providing up to $1.5 million to Pride organizations across the country for increased security measures at parades and other events this year, as advocates call for all political parties to take part.

As first reported by CTV News, Minister of Women and Gender Equality and Youth Marci Ien confirmed the funding plan during an event across the street from Parliament Hill on Monday.

The money is being provided to Fierté Canada Pride to distribute to local event organizers who apply for assistance.

In mid-May, the national association of Canadian Pride organizations sent the federal government an "emergency funding proposal" asking for $1.5 million to help cover increased safety and security costs, stemming from concerns over a rise in anti-LGBTQ2S+ hate, violence, and threats. [...]

Continue Reading.

Tagging: @politicsofcanada

[anya-ackerman]

So I said in an earlier post that I think Levi is “old fashioned” so I felt like elaborating on that

Putting under a read more cause this is really just super indulgent for me in particular so if this ain’t your thing, no biggie :)

☕️ So I guess to preface this, I kind of think it’s a bit of a result of Levi’s upbringing with his mother and Kenny’s influence. I’ve talked before that I think, due to his mother’s unfortunate circumstances, Levi was forced at an early age to realize how brutal and cruel men can be towards women for their own gratification. Then when Kenny took him in, Kenny did his best to impart onto Levi what “it meant to be a man”, though in some regards I think Levi opted to do the exact opposite of what his uncle would do.

☕️ For one, Levi is genuinely chivalrous. He cannot stand the suffering of others if he has a means of preventing it. He realizes he can’t solve everyone’s problems, but if he sees someone in need and he has the ability to help, Levi knows he can’t turn away from it.

☕️ Levi will legitimately be the type to open and hold doors open for you. He’ll put his coat on your shoulders if he notices you’re cold. He pulls your chair out for you and will rise from his seat when you get up to leave and when you return. He’ll make sure you’re towards the inner part of the sidewalk, away from the street, and he makes sure to hold his hand out to you to help you step down. Bonus for me, as someone who gets anxious easily, Levi will talk on your behalf when it comes to strangers.

☕️ Levi views it as his duty to provide for you if he’s in a relationship with you. He genuinely takes it super seriously. He wants to be the type of person you can count on to take care of you. Levi himself doesn’t mind if you have a job as well, whether it be being in the Scouts yourself or having a shop in town, but Levi will make sure you know you can come to him and ask him for anything. He genuinely wants to provide for you and prove to you (and maybe a little bit himself) that he can give you a good life.

☕️ Levi doesn’t date, he courts. Like legit. Levi doesn’t enter into a relationship unless he knows, without a doubt, he’d want to marry you. And I’m not kidding that he abide by courting etiquette. He’ll spend time with you just to talk to you, write letters and send you gifts. Just know that if he’s doing all this, he’s already 110% committed to being with you for the rest of his life.

☕️ I know people have said that Levi’s “thug vernacular” is part of the reason people are taken aback when they meet him but I really don’t view it as such? Kenny in particular speaks in what one would associate with the vernacular of someone more “rough and tumble”. Levi is blunt but how he speaks is very calm and measured and he speaks in a way that is very eloquent and articulate. He just speaks his mind very bluntly that it takes others off guard, especially given Erwin’s more poetic means of speaking to rally others.

☕️ I had heard that supposedly Isayama once said that Levi has trauma from Kenny abandoning him that he feels he has to be perfect in order to keep others from leaving him and I just. That absolutely translating to how he cares for himself and presents himself. Yes, his cleanliness obsession most likely stemmed from growing up in the Underground (and due to his mother dying of illness) but also it’s the fact that cleanliness is associated with people of high standing as well. Levi is meticulous with his personal grooming, his hygiene, his manner of dress and speaking.

☕️ I don’t think it comes from a place of wanting to ignore or forget the fact that he came from the Underground. Levi isn’t the type to ignore his own past or history. But I think it comes from a place of wanting to be seen as more than where he came from. And maybe also as a means to distance himself from the image in his mind he had of Kenny by trying to be the exact opposite of Kenny.

[weirdbeancurd]

Attempted Apologies, Chapter 2- ULTRAKILL Fanfic

@vallianttreedreamland i finally did something woohoo, sorry for the long wait, I've been pretty busy and just didn't have much motivation haha

Takes place in an AU where the prime souls live, and Gabriel and V1 live on the surface as apocalyptic roommates. (oh my god they were roommates)

Summary: Gabriel attempts (key word: attempts) to apologize to Minos and Sisyphus for their executions, but it doesn't go as well as he had hoped. Chapter 2 out of 3. (sorry this chapter's a bit short)

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54146200/chapters/142518682#workskin

Two kings stand awkwardly around the fallen angel, the only indicator he's still with them is the slow rise and fall of his chest.

“We are not burying him alive,” Minos says, slipping his hands under Gabriel’s limp body. “Though it is tempting, I must admit.”

Sisyphus raises a brow at the questionable remark. Minos did have his occasional mischievous streaks.

“Ah, but I jest.” He chuckles, lifting Gabriel with ease, his helmet lolling to the side. Sisyphus swears he hears Minos whisper, “Or do I?,” but doesn’t comment. He shakes his head fondly, as if there isn’t a badly beaten angel in the other’s arms. Minos glances down at the bundle resting against his chest, who finally appears to be at peace. Perhaps I was a bit harsh on him, he ponders, but that notion is abruptly squashed when he spots his forsaken city through the window. Kind faces of townsfolk flash through his mind, men and women who openly expressed their gratitude with smiles and “hellos.” The renaissance was truly a sight to behold. He recalls the children gleefully placing dandelions in his crown, bowing his head to allow for it. People flocked to him for advice and he gave it freely, and all of it for nothing. His words were null against the edge of an angelic blade. Their voices, silenced forever. He hadn’t even the heart to move their corpses from their beds. Anger renewed, the idea of putting Gabriel in the ground doesn’t seem so far fetched anymore.

It takes the will of a man far greater than himself not to drop them right then and there. Instead, Minos adjusts his hold before begrudgingly carrying him over to a spare bedroom. Sisyphus follows; boredom quickly sets in in the lust layer with its citizens gone, so any source of entertainment is a good one. Placing him gently on a queen-sized bed, Minos’ eyes do a once over on Gabriel’s broken body. Blood is caked to his tunic in several places, painful looking bruises littering his ebony skin. Loose feathers fall upon the bedsheets, stemming from the bare patches on his wings where Sisyphus had manhandled him. The king curiously cards his fingers through the feathers, attempting to pluck a few bloodied ones. Pluck. A whine escapes the angel’s lips. Minos ignores him. Pluck. His wings twitch pathetically, dislodging even more feathers. Pluck. Pluck. Pluck.

“Please, no more,” Gabriel gasps, trying to rise from the bed. “I yield, I yield. Just. Don’t hurt them.” He sounds as vulnerable as the day he was created.

Minos and Sisyphus share a wary look and study the cowering body before them; his unsuccessful attempt to get up left him weak, ordinarily strong muscles shaking from exertion, trembling under their own weight. Or was he shivering? Gabriel’s skin shines with sweat, fingers desperately grasping at the blanket to pull over himself. Minos places a hand against his chest, sensing the heat radiating off of him before his digits even touch down. He feels like the scorching sands of Greed, like his blood boils hotter than the sun. With the way he feverishly tosses and turns, one can reasonably deduce he's delirious. Getting beat within an inch of your life tends to do that to a person.

Gabriel's good wing curls around him protectively, obscuring his face. Minos gently pushes the limb aside, noting how he’s met with little resistance. 

"Wouldst thou explain thy words?" He tries to keep his voice soft, despite the resentment brewing just below the surface.

"Ngh. S-stop. Raphael did nothing wrong,” He ducks his head, body wracked with quiet sobbing. “It’s my fault, I’m sorry.” His fingers twitch, too weak to even grasp at the bedsheets. "I-I beg of you, holy council. Please…" Gabriel's voice trails off into heavy breaths. He's gone limp once more, exhausted by his fitful writhing.

Minos feels an ember of sympathy growing in his heart and quickly tries to snuff it out. However, that little flame is persistent, and no amount of smothering seems to dampen its fiery spirit. He kicks sand at the tinder, he douses it with water, but nothing works. I believe I finally understand why Sisyphus says compassion is my weakness, he laments to himself. It seems the council's abuse was not just limited to hell’s subjects, but to Gabriel as well. Minos could only glean so much from his fever-ridden rambling; something about torture and a name he's never heard before. But whoever they are, they're close enough to Gabriel to be used as leverage.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think I liked it better when he was being annoying." Sisyphus grumbles. Minos manages to give him a strange look despite lacking any facial features. "A weakened opponent makes for a dull fight," he hastily tacks on. If Minos could give him a deadpan stare, he would.

He spends the next hour tending to Gabriel’s wounds, weaving stitches into skin. Sisyphus is engrossed in a novel, handing Minos tools when the occasion arises. As time trudges on, Sisyphus finds himself becoming impatient. He places his book face down on the arm rest, being sure not to crease the pages. His legs ache from disuse as he makes his way over to the makeshift operating table. Gabriel’s condition doesn’t appear to have improved, his tunic still stained sanguine-red. At least he’s still breathing, he thinks.

“How much longer until he wakes?”

“That I am unsure. His healing is much delayed, due to his fall from grace, no doubt. We’ll have to wait and see, my friend.” Minos goes back to stitching the lesion on the angel’s stomach, who squirms in response. 

Even unconscious, he seems…disturbed. Sisyphus’ brows crease, taking in his suffering. Their fingers curl in on themselves, as if grasping for something that isn’t there, trying to catch the wind. Perhaps they’re searching for someone: a someone who is no longer here. He remembers receiving the news of Minos’ execution, the sheer anguish overwhelming his senses. He vowed to avenge them, to tear Gabriel limb from limb, but knowing about them what he knows now, would he still seek retribution? They’re just another lost soul, trying to find themself, driven by fear and threats. It’s all so convoluted that he opts to ignore the clashing, swirling thoughts in favor of clearing his mind. He wrinkles his nose. The scent of iron is becoming bothersome. 

Curious of their health (and for lack of anything better to do), he leans down, listening for their breath, their faces almost touching.

“Sisyphus. What art thou doing, he does not need-”

He hears a sharp gasp in his ear, pulling back just in time to avoid being headbutted. Gabriel wakes up with a start, letting out a scream and desperately trying to scramble away while shielding himself with his uninjured arm. Minos, on the other hand, is fruitlessly trying to stop his graceless flailing; those sutures are fragile, and by the way the king is swearing, he’s definitely torn a few. Grabbing his wrists doesn't seem to be working, the angel wrenching his arms away in sheer panic. Not such a warm welcome back to the land of the living.

“Oh, stop overreacting. My face isn’t that appalling,” Sisyphus huffs. His joke goes unappreciated.

After an infuriating tussle and a few choice words from Minos, he manages to pin his arms to his sides.

“Would…thou…cease thy senseless struggle?” He sounds like he’s gritting his non-existent teeth, frustrated panting interrupting his words. Gabriel starts to untense his muscles, still a bit rattled from the unwanted wake up call.

“W-what happened? What is-”

“You passed out from your injuries,” Sisyphus says. “Keep that blood inside your body next time.” Gabriel bristles, incredulous. He’s too offended to realize the man he’s arguing with could very well eat him for breakfast. Blame it on the blood loss.

“What? You were the one who beat me to a pulp! If anything, this is your fault.”

“Enough with thy bickering,” Minos interjects, making a shooing motion with his hand. “If thou cannot control thyselves, leave at once. Childish squabbling will not aid in the healing process.” Sisyphus has known Minos long enough to know that statement’s targeted towards him. He scoffs, but removes himself without further complaint. Which leaves just Gabriel and Minos. Alone. In silence. He makes an effort to keep his gaze lowered when the other roughly snatches back the needle and motions him to lay back down, clearly in a foul mood.

Oh joy, he thinks. I do hope Minos can suture quickly.

I tried to go more into depth with Sisyphus' and Minos' character this chapter (and the next one). It's going somewhere, I swear!

ok so this fic was originally gonna be 2 chapters, but it's now gonna be 3, since if I don't split it up, the second chapter would be like twice the length of the first lol (and it's taking forever)

Feedback and comments are always welcome! :D

[horizon-verizon]

Alysanne is treated awfully by her husband, who is never once confronted by the narrative for his horrible behaviour. Who would rather risk her dying in childbirth than take any steps to prevent pregnancy as she requests, forces her beloved and mentally disabled daughter to be married off despite the obvious risk to her life and refuses to take responsibility when Daella inevitable suffers an awful death, and who values people of Alysanne’s gender so little that he completely goes against Westerosi custom by passing over his own granddaughter.

If Alysanne, powerless apart from what Jaehaerys deigned to grant her, helpless to stop her daughters being out at risk or to decide for herself to see Saera again, is GRRM’s example of a good queen, it’s pretty sad.

I understand the frustration, since again we never get more queens exactly like Rhaenys or Visenya and even here we may comment on how un-feminist or anti woman it is to not have them as "ideal" queens when Rhaenys died in the violence of war (the eradication of women in fiction) while Visenya enables a tyrant to rule...but really F&B and the Targaryens' history was not really supposed to be a feminist tale BECAUSE the history--though not-- was meant to show the decline of royal female power & agency that happened due to the assimilation into Andal patriarchy for power and/or to get a foothold and unified state to fight against the Others if you think of the theory of Aegon having a dragon dream about this. Especially in connection to Dany's rise.

AND I will say I do agree to critique on how GRRM's writing sometimes inspires anti-women-ess through a paltry (thought we can't say nonexistent, there is a punishment against rape or sense of social taboo on rape in Westeros, but...) pushback or punishment for rape and violence against women [joannalannister]. I'm saying that GRRM's work is not meanT to be taken as actual feminist literature but a series that really sets out to dramatize already present/past truths and conditions and sometimes to the detriment of its female characters and the impression made on readers. GRRM is still a liberal-ist white man.

AT THE SAME TIME, SINCE THIS ISN'T A FEMINIST SERIES BUT A "LOOK WHAT CAN HAPPEN" SORT OF THING

I think that the whole point is that, yes, this is a sad and it stems from how limiting such a set up is AND Alysanne was a politically "good" queen. How she treats her own kids and is complicit in how they died or ran away should be a part of how "good" one is as a general sort of leader, yeah, but unlike Jaehaerys and the "good" he did Alysanne's "good" acts for the realm had much more of a necessary impact in the sociopolitical landscape of their subjects. and I mean towards more marginalized groups, esp women. It's like she made sure to "round up" those left behind in other aristocrat's projects.

la-pheacienne says this:

Whether that someone has been chosen by the people, or by the gods, or by destiny, or by circumstances, and regardless of the political system that allowed them to yield that power, the point is that someone has power ad hoc at any given time, and power equals responsibility. What do you do with it? How do you govern? How do you choose between two equally grievous alternatives? Who do you listen to? Who do you trust? How can you learn? What if everything you've been told was a lie? How do you move on from there? What if the promises you made contradict each other? What if you fail? How do you live with the guilt, how do you go on? How do you instigate a structural change? What if you try to do that and people die? What if you try to do that and it kills you? Was it worth it? How do you use th

On top of that, Alysanne was still a Consort, not a Regnant. (POST & POST) She had less power than Rhaenya or Visenya, who though were not exactly Regnants they also weren't just Aegon's wives but consummate and active politicians themselves, making deals in the open, riding dragons into wars, enacting laws, and creating institutions. Alysanne had to rely on her husband's power to have and hope to have her thoughts on legislation come to reality. It is just a fact that queen Consorts, unlike Queen regnants, had to depend on her royal husband's favor, regard, or perception of need of her to have any semblance of power because she is a woman and a Consort. It's part of the deal, the sociopolitical conditions. In reality and real history, it was such for MOST queen consorts. Yeah they had more power at court and influenced their husbands, but you are seeing in Alysanne something that looks like what that sort of power could have been like. Even Alysanne had more influence over Jaehaerys than some real queen Consorts and those that came after her! Think of Rhaella, Naerys, Myriah Martell, etc.

Were there female consorts in real history who practiced more influence, power, etc. than their officially ruling husband or were their active equals in terms of policy making while showing some power over their kids lives than just, of course! But this is not the rule of the land, but exceptions. nor the common experience of medieval/early mod pd women/female consorts precisely bc it was thought women didn't make good rulers. There is Empress Sisi, who couldn't even keep her own children close to her because royal children are not considered the Queen's but those "of the state", so the emperor and/or his mother could force them apart for any reason.

Juxtapose this to the Viserra situation. Alysanne actually was the one to arrange for the marriages she knew her husband wanted (esp after the whole deal with Daella refusing nearly every man/boy), and insisted to Viserra she had to marry Theomore Manderly. She had more power over her kids than you may think...it's not perfect because she is of course anticipating Jaehaerys' desires for the girls to be married off quick enough to build certain alliances or to just get rid of them, but she does not allow herself to really think the match bad and refuses to listen to her daughter. There was will here, from Alysanne not present in Sis, and again, she had more power than later Consorts...yet based in Jaehaerys because she is a Consort and a dragonrider (helps the impression and image to gain "respect").

So we're presented with another question this series inspires: when & how should someone lay blame or responsibility on marginalized groups, identities, etc. like women of aristocratic classes, men of lower classes, either of different "races" (fiction and reality), and with what evidence?

First, Alysanne married and stayed with Jaehaerys as his companion since she was 13. She saw him as the default king, the leader, and herself as a necessary ingredient to Westeros' prosperity. That they would work more together than other couples...She was both right and wrong, and I think she was sorely and quietly disappointed well before she observed Jaehaerys pass a girl over the 2nd time. So she acted the way she did at "home" towards her kids to feel more in control bc that si where Jaehaerys left her to act more.

Second, Daenerys is the example of a "perfect", ideal but also realistic "good queen", someone that realistically and optimistically chooses to do good with the power she has and has managed to find value and meaning to use said power for others other than herself despite all that she went through. Howe those things would likely have turned other women out and as compelled to be more self-oriented as Rhaenyra or Daena. She is purposefully different from her ancestors this way, but also similar to a lot of them, ion that particular strength that she has to reinforce her altruism. That doesn't mean that people who don't do it to her level are completely incapable, evil, or "bad queens".

Cersei? Hell yes, but even with Cersei we must acknowledge how she is how she is due to certain circumstances and most criticism against her in the fandom--or the loudest--are sexist or just unfair. Alysanne? She at least did something where most did nothing and went against the clear wishes of her husband, and within the timeline she still is a source of inspiration for people like Dany. That has to mean something or there really is less of a source to compare oneself and learn from or to be able to analyze thr good, bad, and how things developed the way they have.

This is a world where you are not encouraged to think outside of your own class, much less the principles and ideology about your gender. There are little to no thinkpieces or essays about how sexist some men and women are, how they ae, what gives them the feeling that the way they think is correct, etc. There was no and is no vocabulary for that; there is just experience and having to respond to your environment. You have to do the legwork yourself, fnd your group and support system, your own connections, and play the game. Soemtime, you will fall off and especially when you have been bested or someone has used their socially given advantage over you, as Jaehaerys has done to Alysanne a few times.

So, with this in mind, I think it's important to acknowledge that yes while GRRM did not supply more examples of ideally acting "good queens", he does provide a clear outlook on how women could, would, and did act in real life history and TODAY. Because those questions about how to be a good ruler or a good person or how to differentiate. But it's not GRRM's personal example, necessarily or what he thinks a woman is capable of in his idea of a what a good medieval queen cold be. Alysanne is a "good" queen in that she does try to think of her subjects' needs before aristocrats even with her behavior towards her daughters. To undermine that in our understanding that she did what did to her daughters is probably on GRRM.

Not even Jaehaerys was that sincerely altruistic: right of first night abolishment, the KL drinking water, her attempts to convince maesters of girls and women becoming maesters, etc. Again, It is Queen Consorts, unlike Queen regnants, had to depend on her royal husband's favor, regard, or perception of need of her to have any semblance of power because she is a woman and a Consort. I

I suppose I'm trying to say that in the process of understanding rather than being told what is right or logical, it's important to "good queens" from the context of which they come and take serious their conditions to understand the nuances of how truly "good" they were...even if we can say being a "good" queen needs to be an absolute in ther first place.

Does Alysanne need to be a perfect feminist to be a good Queen? What if she is also responding to the setbacks against her AS she is trying to rule better, these setbacks that are designed for a man, her husband, to have more power than her and even to stop inhibit her ability to address certain problems without fear of losing said power given to her in the first place bc of her connection to him and official subordination to his paternal rule?

Outside of how he writes sexual violence and general violence against women, the line b/t power of self vs power from men, present in women's authority (especially in pre-feminist movement history), must be studied with some more nuance than with men's power. On our part as readers.

I'd say that GRRM uses violence against women as too much of a "gotcha" or flagrantly uses it as a device of emphasis than it needs to be, which simultaneously converts it to something psychologically insubstantial, something we shouldn't pay as much mind to, yes. The specific events of violence or normalization of violence done to women in ASoIaF that doesn't match real historical realities for women is definitely a huge concern because of this, but to mistake the power dynamics b/t a Consort and her ruling husband and most women to men does not help matters.

[raaorqtpbpdy]

Father-Son Bonding (1)

With Maddie and Jazz off attending a women in STEM conference over the weekend, Jack decides to take Danny out for the best father-son bonding activity there is—ghost hunting! They're going to catch that elusive Danny Phantom or die trying! Metaphorically, of course. Jack would never let his son die hunting ghosts, or at least... that's what he thinks.

Written for the prompts:

Jack and Danny spend quality time together hunting that damn ghost boy! Danny is being such a help! Bonus points for if they're both enjoying the endeavor. [from @pricklenettle], Jack Fenton finds out. [from @underforeversgrace], and Jack is excited to hunt ghosts alongside his ghost-powered son, and Danny is enjoying the time with his dad way more than he thought he would. Maddie, however, is deeply troubled by all the ways her son could get hurt, and her overprotectiveness causes a heaviness to fall over the Fenton family home. [from @astatia-ghast]

Read it on AO3

Chapter 1: Danny Phantom Doesn't Know What's Coming (Ch.2; Ch.3)

[Warning for violence]

Jack Fenton was excited.

He was often excited, so that wasn't really noteworthy, but the reason he was excited this time, as opposed to all the other times was.

Jazzy had talked Maddie into going to a Women in STEM conference together during Presidents Day weekend, and that meant that it would just be him and Danny for four whole days, and he was excited. It was rare that the two of them had a boys' weekend together where they didn't have to be the ones getting out of the house. As much as Jack loved fishing, he had other plans for this weekend.

"Rise and shine, Danny boy!" Jack shouted boisterously into his son's room. "The early bird catches the ghost."

Danny groaned and sat up in his bed. He glanced at his alarm clock. "What early bird?" He asked. "Dad, it's almost ten."

"Well... it's just a metaphor," Jack said.

Danny shook his head and chuckled.

"Are you excited for our boys' weekend Danny? I've got big plans!"

"Oh yeah? What are they?"

"It's a surprise!" Jack shouted, absolutely giddy. "Now put this on and meet me in the lab downstairs!" He threw one of Danny's white Fenton jumpsuits at him.

"Let me guess, does it have something to do with ghost hunting?" Danny asked, holding up the jumpsuit and ripping off the picture of his dad's face.

Jack tried not to be too offended. He probably just wanted to match his father, since Jack's own jumpsuit didn't have any sort of logo on it.

"That's just the half of it," Jack started to say, then cut himself off. "Ah! You won't get any spoilers from me! And don't worry about about breakfast! I packed plenty of beef jerky, cereal bars, and fudge in the Fenton GAV."

"Alright Dad, I'll meet you downstairs in a few minutes," Danny said.

"The hunt is on!" Jack shouted, before leaving and closing Danny's door behind him.

—

Danny chuckled as his Dad left his room. Most of the time, their father-son activities were more... fishing and catch. You know, standard things like that. As much as mom wanted her kids to be capable of fighting ghosts, training them in martial arts and marksmanship, she was a lot more hesitant to let them actually fight ghosts. She thought that they should be older before they entered the dangerous world of ghost hunting.

But when mom was away, well, that was when their dad would take the kids out on ghost hunts so they could have some real-world experience. Jazz had always hated them, but Danny had absolutely loved them when he was little. They never actually found anything back then, of course, so it was kind of like going camping and saying that you were hunting for Bigfoot.

Once the portal opened, and there actually were ghosts around—not to mention the Danny was one of them—Danny had been dreading he next time Mom went away and Dad would take him 'ghost hunting' again, but now that it was actually happening, that childish glee of being able to do something 'grown up' with his dad was coming back anyway. That illicit excitement of his father taking him to do something that his mom wouldn't approve of, something they'd have to keep a secret.

Besides, there may have been actual ghosts now, but that didn't make his dad a more competent ghost hunter. And even if they did catch something, Danny could pretend to fall or fumble and let the poor ghost loose. He knew Dad might be a little disappointed at losing the ghost, but it wouldn't get him down for long—and with how often he fumbled things himself, there was no way he'd hold it against Danny.

So Danny pulled on his jumpsuit, brushed his teeth, ran a comb through his hair, and then headed downstairs to the lab with a smile on his face.

"Danny-boy! What took you so long?" His father greeted when he entered the lab.

"It's only been five minutes," Danny pointed out. "So what's the big surprise?"

"Oh, you're gonna love this!" Jack said. He grabbed the Fenton Finder and held it up in front of Danny, who instantly tensed. "Fenton Finder, locate ghost."

The small dish on the device swiveled and the radar beeped, and Danny held his breath.

"No ghost detected," came the Fenton Finder's cold, robotic voice.

"What?" Danny asked, surprised.

His dad was practically jumping up and down. "It's the new jumpsuit!" he explained, beaming. "Ever since your accident, you've been pinging on all our devices, and your mother finally figured out that you were probably contaminated with ectoplasm during that incident. I knew I couldn't take you out ghost hunting if you were just gonna throw off all our instruments, so I designed a new jumpsuit for you and sewed it myself.

"It's a new type of fabric I invented, completely ecto-insulated, I call it Fenton Fabric!"

"Catchy," Danny said. He couldn't help the slight, incredulous shake of his head. "Dad, this is... amazing. I can't believe you did this.... Thank you."

"Oh, don't mention it, son!" he declared. "It had to be done for you to be able to join me on the hunt for the most elusive ghost we Fentons have ever tried to capture! That's right!" He wrapped a massive arm around his son's narrow shoulders. "While the girls are away, you and me are gonna be hunting Danny Phantom." Conspiratorily, he leaned down and added, "That's the second part of the surprise."

"Awesome," Danny said, and much to his own surprise, he didn't even mean that sarcastically.

Any other day, if Danny had heard his dad proudly declaring that he was going to catch Danny Phantom, he would have felt nothing but dread. Not today, though. Today, he would be right by his dad's side the whole time, and he even had a brand new jumpsuit that would prevent the ghost hunting tech from locking onto him. Today would be a father-son ghost hunt with absolutely no chance of success, just the way it should be.

Step one, as always, was to arm themselves.

"So, what kind of weapons are you thinking?" Danny asked. "Fenton Bazooka?"

"No!" Dad shouted, then he slouched and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "No that one is... uh... prone to overloading and electrocuting the user. Your mom was okay with it, but I don't think we should bring it along."

"Oh."

Yeah... Danny could definitely agree with that call. He had no idea there were still such dangerous kinks to work out of Fenton Bazooka. That was good to know.

"Besides, we don't want to send that spook straight back to the Ghost Zone," his father added, waving a hand as he went to his workbench full of gizmos. "We want to capture him, and study him. That's why I propose we bring the Fenton Ghost Weasel! I caught him in it once before, you know, so I know it works."

"Yeah, you've told me the story."

"You'll bring your Fenton Thermos, too, as a back-up, of course, just in case it breaks, or something. You never can know what will go wrong on a ghost hunt, so it pays to be prepared," Jack continued. "Then there's the Fenton Finder, and the Fenton Foamer, in case he brings his buddies. What do you think, anything else?"

"Definitely the Ghost Fisher," Danny said. "If he's flying and out of range, we'll need a way to pull him in closer. Oh! And a portable ghost shield. 'Cause we're not gonna be in the RV the whole time."

"Good thinking, Dann-o," Dad agreed. "But it's not just an RV today. Today, it is the Fenton Ghost Assault Vehicle, just as it should be."

Danny smiled.

"Now, let's talk weapons."

The two of them armed themselves with the usual ecto-blasters to start with. Danny grabbed a Fenton Wrist-Ray as a back-up, and his Dad grabbed a pair of ghost gloves, since he was more of a brawler than a marksman. Danny also grabbed one of his mom's plasma-staffs, just because she wasn't here to tell him he couldn't, and he'd always wanted to try using the lightsaber-esque ghost hunting bo-staff, ever since he'd seen her use it to beat the crap out of Vlad's ghostly animal minions.

Finally, they were fully stocked and setting up a mobile HQ in the GAV, and Danny finally got a cereal bar for breakfast while his father flipped switched to fully arm and activate all the ghost hunting features in the vehicle that were usually turned off for the sake of safety. Once all that was done, the GAV pealed out of the garage and tore down the road, Fenton Finder and Spectral Sub-sonar both scanning the area for any signs of ghost activity.

The most dangerous part of ghost hunting with Dad wasn't the potentially deadly homemade ghost hunting weapons and tech, and it definitely wasn't the ghosts. No, the most dangerous part was Jack Fenton's infamous driving. He was such a menace that the local news did their best to warn the people of the town when he'd be on the roads. Danny made a point of calling Channel 4 to let them know of his father's likely plans to go ghost hunting tomorrow—and thanks the that, the roads were almost completely clear, and the pedestrians were keeping a wary eye out.

Danny, for his part, was clinging to his seat for dear life, strongly suspecting that it would be this that finally drove him into a grave. He may have been half dead already, but he was also half alive, and that half was on a roller-coaster with no safety restraints hurtling down the road—both having fun, and utterly terrified.

"Keep an eye out for any ghosts!" his father shouted over the whine of the engine and the squeal of the tires. "Even if they're not our target, any ghost we find might be able to lead us right to Phantom!"

"Roger that, Dad!" Danny shouted back, and he looked out his window, scanning the skies for any signs of that telltale green glow.

Since they weren't out to destroy any ghosts today, just capture them, Danny wasn't too worried about what would happen if they actually found some. They'd all just be put in the ghost containment cell in the lab, where Danny could 'accidentally' flush them all back into the Ghost Zone before anything bad could happen to them. He didn't see any ghosts in the sky, and his ghost sense didn't go off either, but there was a blip on the Spectral Sub-sonar.

The Spectral Sub-sonar worked by sending out periodic waves of a unique sound frequency that only occurred naturally in the Ghost Zone. It was an intangible sound, inaudible to humans because it couldn't interact with human eardrums. Danny could hear it though. It was kind of a low, resonant sound, like one of those massive orchestra drums, but quiet, and easy to ignore. It could pass right through solid objects, but bounced off anything made of ectoplasm, so it could be used to find ghosts and ghostly objects in the human world.

"I'm seeing a bogey, 9.3 klicks northwest, near the water park," Danny said.

"Well spotted, Danny!" his dad commended. "Man, we make a great team!"

The tires screeched as Dad made a sharp U-turn in that direction, and Danny tensed all his muscles to avoid getting whiplash. Then they were careening down the road toward the local Water Park. The closer they got, the more apparent it became that whatever was pinging on the sonar wasn't just near the park, it was in the water park. The parking lot was mostly empty, and Dad practically sling-shotted the GAV into an empty space... well, two empty spaces, since it was too wide for just one.

The second they stepped out of the GAV, Danny's ghost sense went off, alerting him to a ghost near by. He glanced over to make sure his dad hadn't noticed, but the bulky man was busying himself turning on the safety features before locking up so the GAV wouldn't activate against any innocent bystanders, so Danny was in the clear.

"Do you think it's that Danny Phantom?" Dad asked.

"Only one way to find out," Danny replied.

Floody Waters was still open, but this late in the autumn, there were few people there, even on a Saturday. A few families, with sopping wet little kids shivering whenever a cold breeze blew by. A couple of teenagers, the kind who didn't care if it was cold or not, and were probably planning to cause as much of a ruckus as they could manage before they were kicked out. More noteworthy than who was there was what most of them were doing, and that was screaming at the top of their lungs.

They hadn't been planning to go to the water park today, and it seemed Dad had even left his wallet (and his driver's license) at home. Still, they figured they could at least go up to the entrance and see if the park wouldn't make an exception for two ghost hunters. Much to Danny's surprise, the employee checking tickets at the entrance took one look at their jumpsuits and equipment and ushered them through.

"Oh, thank god you guys are here," the greasy-haired young man said. "It's pandemonium in there! You gotta get rid of that ghost!"

"GHOST?" Dad shouted, and tromped forward with purpose. "Have no fear! The Fenton boys are on the case!"

Danny stifled a laugh as he watched his father squeezing himself through the turnstile with absolutely no dignity whatsoever in his rush to get inside.

Danny didn't know what ghost to expect inside the water park. He'd fought ghosts there before, namely Klemper, and Johnny 13's Shadow. If it was either of them, there wouldn't be a problem. But it was a common misconception that ghosts always tended to haunt the same place, so Danny doubted it would be either of them, this time.

He was right.

The ghost terrorizing Floody Waters wasn't Klemper, or Shadow, or any of Danny's standard rogues. It was a ghost Danny had never seen before. He couldn't tell if the ghost was a man, woman, or a genderless Zone-born ghost. All he could see was a swirling vortex of water rising into the sky, casting a shadow over the park. When they spoke, their voice sounded like waves crashing against a cliff during a storm.

"Fear me, for I am Mariner!" the ghost shouted. "I am the stormy, indifferent seas, sinker of ships, drowner of sailors! This land-locked amusement center, this domesticated sea, this farce is an insult to the vast, uncontrollable ocean! I will free it, so that it may roil and churn like the true ocean, so that it may swallow its captors like a riptide, and never spit them out!"

Danny nearly transformed on instinct, before he remembered who he was with. He glanced nervously over at his dad, but the man showed no fear on his face. He stood his ground and stared up at the swirling pillar of water, sizing up the ghost.

"What do we do, Dad?" Danny asked.

Actually fighting a real ghost was not typically a part of the father-son ghost hunting adventure itinerary. Let alone a ghost this powerful whom Danny had never seen before. They were supposed to drive wildly around town, set some traps, set up a tent in the park for an overnight stake out, go out for sympathy burger the next day after finding nothing, and go home.

"Danny, the Fenton Foamer!" Dad ordered.

Danny slung the weapon off his back and tossed it over.

His dad caught it and took aim, not at the ghost, but at the water. Right before Danny's eyes, the toxic green foam mixed with the water, swirling upward until the entire waterspout took on an eerie green color, and then it collapsed, falling all at once and landing in the pools and rivers of the water park with a massive splash that soaked everyone around.

For a split second, Danny just stared at his father, shocked and impressed.

"Shoot, Danny!" his Dad ordered, snapping him out of it.

In a single motion, Danny drew his ecto-gun, took aim, and fired at Mariner.

The ghost howled in pain as they were hit right in the middle of the back, and whipped around, glowing red eyes wide with rage and fixed upon Danny and his father.

"Stand your ground, son!"

"Right!"

Reaching behind his back, Dad equipped the ghost gloves, and clenched his fists, preparing for a melee.

Mariner raised their arms, and the water churned, but it didn't do more than churn. While it was still mixed so thoroughly with the neutralizing foam from the Fenton Foamer, Mariner couldn't exert as much control over it as they had before.

"Very well," the said lowly, though their voice carried all the way to the ground. "If you dare to contaminate the tides, then I shall drag you under myself."

The ghost dove toward Danny and his father with murderous intent, and Danny, Ecto-gun still in hand, fired upon them, trying to slow them down or stop them before they reached the ghost hunters.

Mariner swerved and dodged. Now that they could see where the shots were coming from, they were a lot harder to hit, though Danny did still manage to get a couple more good hits in to the ghost's shoulder and spectral tail.

Unfortunately, he wasn't able to stop them before they reached the ground. All he'd managed to do was piss them off, and now they were flying straight at Danny. Danny threw his hands up to defend, and braced for impact, but it never came.

He heard his dad shout, and opened his eyes just in time to see an orange blob slam into Mariner, grabbing the ghost with a pair of glowing Ghost Gloves.

It was a brawl. Dad was strong, but he could only touch the ghost with his ecto-charged gloves, which put him at a disadvantage. Still, he held on for a solid minute before Mariner grabbed him and pulled him into the water.

Danny ran to the edge of the pool, looking down, desperately hoping that maybe the foam in the water would be enough to weaken the ghost and make them let go. It wasn't. It had been diluted when it mixed with all the water. At worst, Mariner only felt a slight sting. Meanwhile, Dad was thrashing and struggling, and he couldn't breathe.

Danny had to help him, but how could he? The ray from his ecto-gun or wrist ray wasn't a fully formed ghost; it would become inert the second it hit the foam-infused water, and the Fenton Thermos would have a majorly reduced range. The plasma staff didn't have enough reach, and if Danny jumped in with it, he didn't think he would have enough control or momentum underwater. He only had one option left if he wanted to save his dad.

"I'm going ghost!"

[sunspira]

Im laying my bets now. the entire idea that autism (and adhd) is more common in men and boys is pure myth created by poor science, backwards statistics and faulty parameters of the condition itself. in another 50 years we will understand it was never a gendered condition. just a highly gendered and biased measurement system. i'm absurdly confident on that

the rates of autism in girls is "rising" exponentially. it is rising even more exponentially in girls than in boys. not because girls are becoming more autistic. but because the "science" is just getting better at measuring and accurately acknowledging autism in girls.

autism often does present differently in girls, due to how girls are raised or personality differences. the literature and criteria was based on boy sample groups. the entire research data was done on white men as if that is a standard default person and control group.

not only that, doctors and teachers and parents literally were not looking for it in girls under the false widely propagated belief it was rare in women in girls. it is a self fulfilling prophecy. that's not science.

we will soon have to reckon with the lost generations of autistic girls and women and children assigned female at birth* who never got diagnosis and early intervention. we should be forcing the world to reckon with it right now. a great deal of autistic millennial women are brilliant minds who dropped out of STEM and the workforce due to their untreated and misidentified disability overtaking their life. the impact of never Knowing you or your child is autistic or adhd is difficult to comprehend for autistic and adhd people who did get diagnosed as children. even when the awareness and interventions were unhelpful or harmful. the harm of not knowing means the child trying even harder to become neurotypical and a level of autistic burnout few others on the spectrum can comprehend, often taking place after the woman is a legal adult, and there are no legal protections in place for this disabled person.

the unmitigated stress of being developmentally delayed and never knowing it, simply hating and blaming yourself and fighting day in and out past your limits to become neurotypical, limits your don't know you should have because you have never been so much as briefed on what adhd or autism can feel like. you don't know the distres and tiredness you're feeling is "dysregulation". this is why we see women in nervous breakdowns. psychiatric wards. treatment resistant depression. electric shock therapy. hard drug addiction. cutting. homelessness. personality disorders. dissociation. psychosis. early death by accident or suicide. (obviously people who are not autistic or adhd have these illnesses but my point is untold and disproportionate numbers of them are undiagnosed neurodivergent with unprocessed trauma. i'm telling you. more than you think).

it's why we see young people on tiktok not faking DID per say, but describing a dissociated experiences and fractured sense of self and escapist alternate personalities, a mental illness that has much less in common with traditional DID, but has much in common with struggling and under-treated autistic people. DID is a very rare condition. autism is very common. autism can create out of body experiences and self protective blurring of reality and fantasy so extreme, no person can be expected to understand it is autism if they never been advised about their own disability and the knowledge that should he available to them. it's no wonder we have people with mislabeled rare disorders like DID who are clearly very sick but instead of showing real DID signs, are sick with all the signs of severe unassisted autism they have been completely barred from understanding or coping with in any other way. for those lucky enough, we see unemployed young women with severe chronic pain in their 20s and 30s who look and feel like they're elderly and gave up their dreams when they hit 21 or 25 and their brains stopped working and their bodies shut down. now they mostly scroll tumblr and tiktok and try to remember to open the blinds. they have a roof but people scorn them for entitled laziness and worst of all derided for "self diagnosing".

again i'm asking why CFS chronic fatigue syndrome is so responsive to adderall. i'm asking why professionals are reluctant to test women for adhd if she does well in school because she is very bookish and why experts in the field are openly amused and doubtful to test a woman for autism if she has a long term boyfriend. why is ability to mask or function a disqualification. why is inability to function in women, who later turn out to be autistic or adhd, so aggressively mischaracterized as BPD, bipolar, depression, OCD, schizophrenia. why is autism and adhd clinically diagnosed and defined by distress and dysfunction and not by intrinsic traits and qualities that present while still functional for preventative care. why are all people, men and women forced to wait until their lives and minds are deteriorating and they have experienced some irreversible disasters and pain before they can be diagnosed. why must girls and boys wait until their daily life as children have become unbearable hell for them before their disability can be treated and acknowledged. and if these policies are changing now, why are doctors and psychiatrists not eagerly and urgently reaching out to find the vulnerable adults they missed during more archaic screening methods. we aren't rising in adhd diagnosis because of tiktok you assholes. adult onset adhd and autism don't exist. those people were always adhd. adult onset skill regression and increase in severity due to stress DOES happen in adulthood. modern day stresses like loss of structure during the pandemic and social media is advancing to become more attention span draining. everyone is feeling the effects but these are causing adhd and autistic people to cope less and mask less effectively so they are running into significant problems, their loved ones are noticing, they are getting referrals and suddenly forced to google their rapidly worsening mental issues for the first time and seeing they line up with a known neurological condition . this is obvious. doctors blaming it on some sort of trend are being willfully clueless

*because autism especially is screened identified diagnosed and first intervened ages 2-5, before a child has an internal concept of self or gender and above all before they can express their gender, diagnostic practices and criteria are based on how adults perceive a child via birth assignments. and the studies are overwhelmingly beholden to data only on children assigned male at birth, rarely accounting for their actual future gender either. as part of the warped science insisting that autism is as if somehow linked to the y chromosome and not a universally likely human quality, you see amab kids laser focused on as candidates and afab kids fucked over most of all. all children assigned female have the worst chances of their developmental disability being identified and acknowledged in a timely manner and disproportionately experience late diagnosis in later adolescence or adulthood. tho i wouldn't be surprised if trans womens rates of accurate diagnosis is lower than cis men. as trans girls may present autism differently and characteristic of girls autism, even while still in the closet or before she knows she is trans. regardless adults are very vigilant for signs of autism, even atypical ones, in any child they perceive as a boy. so any millennial or gen z child identified female at birth had significantly worse chance at receiving autistic support compared to peers

in particular women assigned male at birth might have a better chance at being identified for types of autism that are often labeled "high functioning", involves high masking, and often receives few services. these more invisible types of autism often need to be diagnosed before age 5 in order to qualify under the criteria at all. and so in the days where autism was believed to be 20x more common in the genetics of xy children, any chance of being considered and diagnosed would come down to almost purely birth assignment dependent. with the less outwardly visible types of autism, a person who misses this window will remain autistic all their life but once they learn a certain level of skills and masking, no matter how late they learn these, the person will no longer qualify for diagnosis, either not until they have a nervous breakdown or possibly not ever qualify. it's this type of more hidden autism we see struggling across the board as undiagnosed adults including both trans and cis women especially, tho we are seeing it disproportionately even more so in undiagnosed afabs of any gender. who are dropping out of schooling and work and succumbing to severe mental illnesses during what should be the prime of their lives. overall tho birth assignment is not everything this is an issue that disproportionately impacts cis women. trans women. trans men. non-binary people. likely doubling for those that are afab. and then tripling and quadrupling for children who are not white.

bit of an understatement in that last part there. gender likely isn't even the biggest barrier to proper diagnosis and treatment. probably race is even more so. but since gender is such a big disparity in itself across race and one i relate to and can speak on from experience ive focused on it here. a more in-depth look is needed on the neglect of adhd and autistic children of color especially black native and latino kids. but for now do keep in mind the points i'm making increase exponentially for kids who aren't white across all genders including cis boys