#and they said a while ago. because it does disable me on the daily

[aefensteorrra]

Going to Turkey soon and am quite (very) nervous because I have heat intolerance and every day it’s going to be at least 29 degrees with a uv index of 9 (which I have never experienced?? that can’t happen at this latitude). Everything I wear in summer is either linen or cotton so I know I’m okay on that front, I wear spf 50 every day in summer here anyway cause I’m ginger so will be very on top of that, got a hat, just have to buy a tonne of chewable electrolyte tablets… 🫡

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not paying for my fiancee's trip?

(Sorry mod, sending this again as I forgot to add an important context detail)

This is going to be long, I'm so sorry!

Okay, so I (23M) am engaged to a very wonderful fiancee (27NB). She's fantastic, and I want to make it very clear that our relationship is great - we have good communication, we never argue, we're always on call without getting tired of each other, etc etc. There is just one issue we have - her financial habits.

For context, I am disabled and can't work due to both mental and physical health issues, so I'm on disability benefits. She can and does work.

We're long-distance (she's in America and I'm in the UK), and we've been dealing with it pretty well so far. At the beginning of our relationship, we agreed that before we got to the point of talking about moving in with each other etc. we would need to have her visit me here at least once to meet my family and get used to how things work here (as she wants to move here), and I would need to visit her at least once to do the same there re: meeting her parents etcetera.

The agreement was that I'd pay for her to come here, and then when it was my turn she'd pay for my visit there so it was fair.

She first visited me about a year and a half ago and came over here for two weeks. I paid for her plane tickets, our transport everywhere (we don't have cars), the AirBNB we stayed in, etc. This ran me about £2k, which was all I had at the time, and I didn't have enough left over to pay for her food on top of that, so I asked if she could cover her own food costs while she was here. This caused a bit of an issue at the time as she was very clearly frustrated at having to do it, and would make comments like "Ugh I wanted a new computer but now I have to save for this trip", "I'm having to sacrifice so much to pay for this" and it made me feel incredibly invalidated, like I was covering everything else and also sacrificing a lot to pay for everything else for us but the one thing I'd asked her to help with was too much. We had a conversation about it at the time and she apologised and said she'd work on it, so we moved on.

Plans changed a bit very early this year, as I was due to get surgery and the friend who was supposed to accompany me there dropped out last minute. I had no one else nearby to turn to and I couldn't go alone (it was the kind of surgery where I would need someone around for at least 1-2 weeks afterwards to help me move around and do daily tasks). As a last ditch effort I asked my fiancee to fly over again and help me out, and I paid for this again which I was completely fine with doing as the trip was a favour for me and it was unplanned from her end. This was another ~£2k.

So cut to summer this year. This was when I was supposed to have my visit over to America. She, at this point, was making pretty good money at a school job. However, when I asked her if we could finalise the plans and buy tickets, she told me that she had no money.

This is where I explain that she's really, REALLY bad with money. She impulse-buys clothes and things for her room etc., she plays gacha games like Genshin Impact and spends quite a lot of money on 'pulls' and the gambling mechanic, things like that. It turned out that through the whole time of having this job she'd been basically spending money as soon as she got it and she now had nothing for the trip. I was admittedly frustrated with her (especially as she initially lied to me and told me she hadn't spent money on games etc. and then later confessed that it IS where the money had gone), but we agreed we could push back the trip to winter/Christmas-time to give her more time to save, and honestly I didn't really mind because I've never spent Christmas/New Year with anyone before, so shifting the visit to over those days would be a nice experience.

However, soon after this she was fired from her job for too many call-outs/absences. For the next few months, she didn't get another job - she said she was doing all she could and was applying for, but I often got the impression that she wasn't and was sort of throwing out an application every few weeks and then writing it off as 'done', which I could be completely misinterpreting so take that with a grain of salt. I kept pushing her to get a job so we could get the trip sorted out and I know she got kind of frustrated with me a few times for it.

I ended up giving up the closer we got to the time and offered to just cover it again if she could pay me back when she did get a job, and she agreed.

Unfortunately, after this I was rendered homeless due to my abusive home situation. I was fortunate enough to be offered government housing and I now have an apartment in town, but it's completely unfurnished (literally all that's in it is a single bed and a cooker, there's no flooring or anything yet). I now have to put all the money I have saved (about £3k) towards getting flooring (which is a little over £1k by itself), furnishings, getting the walls painted, sorting out gas and electricity, etc. I'm also now paying the bills for this apartment. As a result, there's no possible way I could afford to cover the trip anymore myself.

It looked like things were getting sorted because my fiancee got another job recently. It's pretty well-paying, she seems to enjoy it so she's not calling out, and she kept prompting me to talk details of the trip with her so it felt like it was all getting figured out and she was ready to finalise it.

Then today I asked her how much money she had ready for it and she said... $15. I'm genuinely lost on how she still hasn't saved any money, she claims she used it all on "bills" but she doesn't pay rent or cover any housing costs as she still lives with her parents, so I don't understand at all where it's all going. We have less than a month before the trip is supposed to happen, nothing is sorted, we still have no clue where we'd be staying, no plane tickets have been purchased, and now it's looking a lot like it's going to have to be pushed back AGAIN to next year.

I thought about trying to pay for it again, because I DO really want that Christmas and New Year with her. Delaying it again would also mess up our future plans, as the plan was to get this trip to America and meeting her family done this year, then spending the first half of next year on the Visa process and then the latter half getting her actually moved over. It also means I would have to delay my college education, as I was going to start my course early next year, which I wouldn't be able to do if the trip is next year instead as it would require me to take weeks off.

If I tried, I probably could cover it - I need to spend the ~£1k on flooring as that's already arranged, but I could technically use the remaining £2k to fund the trip. However, this would mean my house would remain unfurnished and barely habitable for months longer. It's not so bad if I know she'd be able to pay me back quickly, but the reality is that I don't know how long it would take for me to see the money back.

Part of me also feels like she's kind of expecting me to give in and pay for it last minute in order to not delay it, because I offered before and I was willing to pay for the last two trips. But it's just so depressing and frustrating, because it feels like I keep giving things up and putting things into these trips and getting her over here, and trying to get it back from her is just like running into a wall.

We've talked about it before, but she insists there's nothing more she can do, she's trying as hard as she can, and that she's upset about it too. I just don't know what to do about it anymore.

So I guess my question is, AITA for complaining about the trip, missing Christmas/New Year and pushing her on money and nagging her about what she does with hers instead of just taking the L and covering the trip again until she can pay me back?

What are these acronyms?

[bipedalembarrassment]

Have to vent somewhere or I'll go insane:

Does anyone else have issues with people with much less debilitating illnesses/symptoms trying to act like they experience the same level of disability/pain/all round awfulness as you?

Maybe the sickness is making me petty but one of my close friends/housemate is doing my head in.

She has endo (which no invalidation to endo warriors I know its incredibly painful and has lots of awful symptoms) but she got surgery for it years ago which is meant to (and did) make it much better and from her own account and from living with her I know for a fact she very rarely has any pain or fatigue or other symptoms from it anymore.

She's also able to work a physical labour job 3+ times a week and on top of that goes out and does things (runs errands, sees friends) constantly and in her spare time will garden/mow/move furniture around/do a bunch of errands and what have you.

In comparison between the extreme levels of pain and chronic fatigue I experience I'm unable to work, am able to leave the house maybe once a month if I'm lucky (and have to recover for days afterwards) same goes for things like gardening, if I were to do what she does in a day I'd be in bed for four.

Many days I struggle to even feed myself or clean my pets litter tray.

I've had ankylosing spondylitis without knowing for 8 odd years now and then the onset of the full blown psoriatic arthritis symptoms about 3 years ago now (when I was 25) completely destroyed my life and I still struggle daily with the grief process and ofc with the regular struggles of being constantly exhausted and fatigued and sick and in pain.

I have to use a walker if I leave the house and I'm just all round having an awful time and am pretty damn disabled.

I had to quit a job I loved and the idea of me being able to work with how sick I am is laughable.

Anyway I'm just so frustrated because she'll literally spend the day out doing errands, come home and garden (as a hobby not necessity) and do a bunch of chores and things and while she's doing it will literally tell me and our other (also disabled) housemate how fatigued she is and in conversations will basically assert that her experiences of fatigue and chronic illness are the same as mine.

She very very very rarely extends me any sympathy or checks in on me or offers to like grab me some groceries or anything when running errands (my car broke down and as I can't work I cant afford a replacement, PT is completely inaccessible to me) yet when she has any mild medical issue or needs to go get a medical test or something (something I obviously have to do regularly & never get support for) she will literally like have other friends over to take care of her, complain about it constantly, tell us how depressed she is, make multiple people come to her medical appointments with her (without giving too much away she recently had a medical issue that was potentially worrying, but turned out to be best case scenario, had a small procedure where she didn't have to go under or anything and only had to recover 1 day before going back to work. The results all turned out to be good, the procedure treated the issue and she now takes medication to prevent it coming back.

The entire time she went on and on about it constantly, made multiple people go to all her appointments with her (complained about how sick she was of all the testing/medical admin when she had to go see like 2 Drs, which y'know maybe don't say that in front of your friend who has had to do that constantly for 3 years without any support or sympathy from you and who is constantly being gatekept and gaslit by said system), she also like googled how rare the condition is (which sure interesting) and then multiple times told my other housemate and I and our friends about how rare it is in like this weird almost like bragging or like "see how sick I am" way.

She spent days telling us how depressed she was from all the medical stuff etc.

I really hate playing the suffering olympics and ofc dont want my friend to be sad or struggling so I attended appointments with her and was/still am sympathetic towards her and was like bringing her drinks and things when she asked or coming and hanging out with her in her room when she'd message and say she was depressed.

Like I really don't like playing the "I have it worse than you games" but I am factually much more disabled than she is and she knows this as she refers to herself as chronically ill and not disabled so it just does my fucking head in that she is living with me every day, having the levels of ability, mobility, energy, access and painlessness I could only dream of and she still invalidates me (and our other disabled housemate) constantly by bringing up her medical issues (for instance I just mentioned that I think I'm getting strep throat for the second time this month and instead of showing me any sympathy she brings up how she kept getting tonsilitis years ago when she recovered from glandular fever) whenever I bring up mine and acting like illnesses she's had in the past and doesn't experience any (or only a few) symptoms of nowadays (does this with lots of things, like when she was sick from iron deficiency years ago too) mean theyre like points on her illness check card and means our experiences are the same???

Like she's very much your classic "oh everyones tired" or like will say "I'm so exhausted" while actively running around using heaps of energy on hobbies/fun activities and will then pretend thats the same as chronic fatigue.

Also on top of almost never showing me any sympathy or concern or doing anything supportive for me she's multiple times joked about me being lazy or complained at me for not hanging out with her when I've been stuck in bed.

Has also made comments about like how lucky I am to sleep all day or whatever and idk just frequently doing these ableist microaggressions or just being generally insensitive as fuck and I'm getting really frustrated with it.

Anyone else had this problem of like people who are just straight up factually a lot less disabled than you are trying to act like this and being invalidating af??

Anyway big angry rant probably no one but me will read but fuck youuuu to my friend for being unsupportive and invalidating and shit while my lifes been permanently changed for the negative.

Its almost like cause I'm sick, fatigued and/or in pain every single day I'm not allowed to be upset or get sympathy or support or complain about it because its "too much" or gotten boring or something.

Guess what? I'm fucking bored too

[jad3w1ngs]

So this is a bit of a vent and also a bit of a positive thing? Hard to describe but anyway.

I finally seem to have a kind of diagnosis for my pain.

Turns out that my ligaments are all a little bit too stringy/long so they aren't holding my bones in the right place.

I am viewing this part as the positive bit because I've been trying to get someone to say/know why I'm constantly in pain since I was 23 (I'm 29 now). The fact that it's taken this long for someone to actually, properly look at me, to actually examine me instead of telling me that I'm either imagining it or that I should just lose weight.

I mean the fact that I literally lost 3st (42lbs) just to stop them using that as an excuse should probably tell you just how often that was their excuse.

So that leads me into the ranty part of my post. I've been going to the doctor's on and off since this pain started and mostly focused on my lower back and tailbone (because that's where most of the pain is) and every time it was just waved off like 'oh everyone's backs hurt a bit'. And okay sure, the human spine sucks but I'm pretty sure most people (especially in their early 20s) are still able to sit in a chair for more than 10 minutes without pain, more than 30 minutes without being in so much pain that they can't focus on anything else.

I'm sure most healthy, non-disabled 20 something's don't have days where their legs feel so week because their back is fucked that they worry about climbing stairs because they're sure they're going to fall.

Now onto how I finally got the doctor to listen to me. By talking about something else.

I started the way I normally do (fresh doctor because I moved a little while ago so I've had to start the process over again) talked about my back, how I've been in pain daily for over 7 years now and I want to know why/if they can help me. I also brought up the fact that I've finally put two and two together in that my joints don't always seem super sturdy, that the reason I'd made that appointment in particular was because my leg gave out on a walk and my knee has been sore ever since and keeps clicking etc.

Doctor does what all the doctors do. Said, oh we'll ignore the back for now because we all have bad back (she legit said this too me) we'll focus on your knee.

I was annoyed but also just kind of let it go because I had made the appointment about my knee and also if I talk verbally about my pain too much I start crying, especially around medical personnel.

Now's the part that really pissed me off, because of the next question she asked me.

'does your joint pain actually stop you from doing your job or going about your life'

And I'm sure there's probably a reasonable explanation for that question, there is a possibility I'm over reacting but it very much came across as something that if I said no, it doesn't effect my ability to do my job, that she just wouldn't have helped me.

Anyway, I said yes. Because yes, there are days my joints just don't work. There is also a lot of manual handling and a lot of walking involved in my job, so on days where my joints feel extra stringy or my legs feel wobbly I can't do my job.

She manipulated my legs, moving them from side to side. Tried to see if there was still any swelling etc. And that was when we discovered that, and I quote I 'have the stretchiest knees she's ever seen' that my joints would be the perfect ones to show trainees because the hyperflextion (I think that's the right word) was textbook and really visible.

So now I know. I still feel quite patronised and dismissed but I know. Because it explains everything. My ligaments aren't doing their job so my bones move about. Not stretchy enough for things to dislocate properly but they do for a few seconds. This also means my hips don't sit right when I sit down hence the pain.

I have a path now, it's mostly physical therapy to train my muscles to do what my ligaments can't (basically I have to become super strong! Get hench! That kind of thing) and I have something that I can start with when I go to the doctor's from now on.

[anonymousjos]

Thirteen- 6/2/2023

Hi! Full disclosure it’s been a gap again. Apparently I suck at conformity or scheduling, who knew!? (insert shrug emojie here). Anyway, in hindsite I do with I was dating these so I knew how long my gaps were getting.

I have also realized that I really struggle to recap my daily readings when there isn’t somehting that “speaks to me” in the passage so I am not going to force myself. What does that mean for this crazy different journal thing I am keeping, well I have no idea. Maybe that’s all this is, a journal for myself to reflect back on. I don’t know but I would like to coninue to see whare it is going. So, hang with me if you like and if not, okay. I have a ton of updates because it’s been a while. The reason it’s been a while is because we had Memorial Day weekend! My husband and I took off on Friday and made a four day weekend out of it. We drove out to Hot Springs and took the kids hiking up to the waterfall and it was really nice. Nothing like last year when we went unprepaired and I broke a flip flop and had to hike the two miles in my bare feet and carry Hensley the entire way because she didn’t want her daddy. Anyway, this time was much more fun. It was so beautiful. The water was ICE cold and felt amazing. I did however find out that you are not supposed to stand under waterfalls? Something my husband shared with me. I then got ot find out why. Mear feet from my sweet baby girl’s head a giant stone the size of a soft ball came over the waterfall. It was actually terrifying for me. I had no freaking clue! That night we went to our hotel (cashed in one of our free nights- thank you maxed out credit card) and swam in the pull before we doordashed our dinner and went to bed. The next day we spent most of the day at the lake and with my husbands grandparents. We did not make it to the fireworks though, we went home to lounge by our pool instead.

A few health updates since my last check in:

-          I am 99% sure my brain fog was from my antidepressant! My brain is still clear. I will not go back on that. Although, my mood swings might be creaping back in.

-          I had my colonoscopy and endoscopy, the prep made me throw up and throw up but I still had it. Good news is my intestins are good! No Crohns or IBS. It tuns out the complications I’ve had are from my gallbladder removal EIGHT YEARS AGO! He wrote me an RX and said I’ll stop  having symptoms.

-          I confirmed with my Rumo they checked my calcium and it is good

-          My MRI has been APPROVED and I go in on Tuesday for it

-          I feel like a giant jerk but I had superdoctor sign off on a temp disabled tag for me until we can get my back and hip pain flairs under control.

-          I figured it was wort a shot and I told Superdoctor about the semaglutied and asked if she would consider perscribing it. She kindly said no.

-          No updates with the semaglutied (aside from the fact that I’ve been taking the wrong dose haha) but not weight change. I do feel better though and  my closthes fit better.

-          My children and I have had pink eye, twice

That’s all I can remember at the moment.

In other news I have moved on to the book of Exidous which is interesting but mostly it’s stories I’ve heard before. Although you get to see Mosis in a new light in the actual Bible.

My husband discovered that he does not get PTO at his new job EVER. And I kind of forced him to ask for a raise because he took such a large pay cut to go to this job and was supposed to get a raise at 90 days and did nto. The boss gave  him a raise, still not close to what he was making, and my husband will be working one Saturday a month as a compromise. Money is still super tight but my babies get to stay in daycare! God does provide!

[yooniesim]

tbh while I as a black simmer can appreciate you calling Mack out for the racist she is, it does feel like you’re doing it to keep the heat off of yourself by association? Reading your dm interactions, you gave her a lot of grace about her voting choice. you comforted her, actually. it wasn’t until another Simblr became public about Texas’ harassment that you started to turn the heat up on Mack. i remember seeing an anon ask, asking you why you hadn’t denounced her. you went on a spiel about voting choice and giving people chances to changed…this was less than two years ago. so why should the community trust you knowing that you were privately comforting a racist and only publicly condemned them when people sought your take? trust me I despise Sunny as much as anyone since she bullied me and my black summer friends out of dollhouse when she was running it. her own mods kicked her out because of this. but I also don’t believe in free passes for people trying to save face ie. YOU.

Anon, I definitely understand your perspective and why you feel that way. I've been transparent since the start about how I feel about Mack, I've never followed or publicly supported her. But I have said multiple times that I try to give people chances to change because I'm surrounded by people that have made similar choices and I, personally, would be miserable if I didn't have hope people could change. I grew up with half of my family openly calling me the N-word and not only being openly racist but homophobic towards me and others (I am mixed and the white part of my family tried to keep me away from my disabled black father and family when I was younger, for context). I've been a subject of this type of abuse since I was young. Some of these same people have changed and regretted their past actions, and some have not. In my workplace, many of my coworkers and patients have similar views. I would like to cut all of this out of my life, but I can't. I don't have the means financially or mentally to do that. And so I cope by trying to believe that they can change. If I didn't, I don't know how I would be able to manage. It's for the sake of my own mental health. In this online space, however, there is the option to cut people out, and while I lead with giving people a chance... if they show there's no actual change, then I have no choice but to accept that and take that opportunity off the table. As we see with Mack.

As far as taking the heat off of myself or trying to save face- no one would have even known how I talked to her had I not said it previously (in posts before this one) or linked the DMs myself. I really have nothing to hide, I've always been open about that perspective. I sympathized with her in my initial short DM conversation with her (out of a total of two) and shared my own trauma of being attacked by Trump's cult of personality. Being in that environment when you're surrounded by them and their abuse is terrifying. I personally experienced family members constantly threatening me to vote for Trump (and I mean threatening my housing, access to medications, standing at school and work, destroying or stealing my possessions, etc), mocking me daily for being "a stupid liberal" (and far worse insults), and even trying to steal and manipulate my mail-in ballot. It is extremely easy to be trapped, intimidated, and manipulated by those people. When Mack shared her story, I wanted to believe that she'd been subject to this and that she either didn't really have those views to start with or had changed. That was projection and naivity on my part. Admittedly, it also didn't register with me during that initial DM convo that she had voted for him twice, she didn't mention it specifically in that conversation and it was before I had gotten a chance to see all receipts in detail (she DM'd me immediately once I asked publicly for proof of her racism and we had that convo). If you check the DMs, I even mentioned to her in that same convo how my family members had voted for him twice even after seeing what he'd done after the first time and how terrible and hurtful that was for me, and that I was glad people like her had changed their opinions after voting once and seeing what he'd done after instead. Why would I say that if I knew she'd done the same thing as them? She, of course, didn't correct me and say she'd voted twice, but why would she? So at the time of the convo, that was how I was seeing it. But as we can see, I was very wrong.

Past that point, the more that I uncovered about Mack (the harassment, voting twice, and perspectives from her friends and other simmers in my inbox), the more I saw it was only the tip of the iceberg. I kept taking note of so I could make another post publicly. I answered an anon saying that this was the case, which I believe is the one you saw. That ask was after the short DM conversation in which I initially sympathized with her. Keep in mind this was all taking place in under 3 weeks time (including the paywall-gate explosion and my own personal life). And yet within those 3 or so weeks, so much evidence was adding up, along with many asks i was saving in my inbox to put in the post- meanwhile I wasn't interacting with Mack other than our 2nd DM convo in which I told her to stop the harassment of Dreamie and others. I gave Mack her last opportunity to show that she had good intentions in this community and towards those in it by denouncing her former views and the actions of Texas. She didn't take advantage of this. I knew that the Texas situation was going to be a huge hurdle and drain on my mental health (and her harassment of others was on-going without any sign of stopping), so I tackled that first. I was still compiling everything else, and the last post on my page with her past actions and all the links are evidence of that. Keep in mind: just because you didn't see what I was writing or taking note of, doesn't mean that I wasn't. Just because I didn't make a huge call-out post right then didn't mean I approved of her, followed her, interacted with her, or was her friend. As as much as I like to speak my mind here, doing all this does take time and mental energy.

All this aside, it's only an explanation, not an excuse. If you don't feel comfortable with how I've handled the situation, I completely understand. I've told people, including Mack, many times- that she's not entitled to a second chance or to forgiveness, and to expect she won't receive it from everyone. I want to emphasize that while I personally may give someone a chance, doesn't mean that they necessarily deserve a chance. Especially not from anyone else that they've hurt. It's not the job of black simmers like us (or anyone else marginalized) to keep forgiving and giving opportunities. It's not a human right, and it's not any morally better than not giving a second chance. The perspective of not allowing second chances is 100% valid. And if me doing so makes anyone lose trust in me, I understand that completely. As much as I try my best to be logical and hard, sometimes I'm soft-hearted and sometimes I'm naive, and I'm biased due to my own trauma and experiences. As we all are. No one needs to take my word as truth or trustworthy if they don't feel comfortable doing so. I'm not a paragon of justice and truth any more than Mack is- I'm simply sharing my own opinions and perspectives.

(I know this is long, but I hope it addresses everything nonny, and doesn't have mistakes, I wrote it on my lunch break lol)

[philipkindreddickhead]

I often seen critiques of make up from an existential/philosophical perspective, but I rarely see criticism of cosmetics from a stand point of the very physical bodily harm it does. I think this is because the number of dangerous ingredients is so massive, and overlapping its an absolutely daunting task. So I've compiled the information I've found and bear with me its a lot. (This is from an American perspective. Sorry, thats what I know. However I would love it if people from other countries had things to add.)

First I want to get the "simple" stuff out of the way. I think almost everyone has heard about bacteria and fungi in makeup and that makeup causes acne from clogging pores. Makeup has a pretty strict shelf life, yet consumers are entirely supposed to self-police as Ive never seen a single expiration date on any cosmetic packaging. (I guess consumers are meant to pull this knowledge out of the ether or something. I only found out about it in a tumblr PSA. I did read that expirys are on products in Europe.) Beauty blenders are the worst offender because theyre almost always moist. When I was taught makeup I was told to wet my sponge so it would soak up less product. If you apply makeup daily your sponge is likely constantly damp. USA Today had an article which said that 96% of sponges had fungi and over 60% had E. Coli in them. But I think what people talk about less is the complication of problems from using other products in conjunction with dirty beauty blenders. USA Today warns its especially dangerous to use beauty blenders if you have damage to your skin like acne, cuts, or dry skin. However the most popular beauty products for washing your face contain walnut pieces for literally scrubbing your skin and creating microabrasions. If youre a frequent makeup user you probably know about the cyclical nature of applying foundation, breaking out, and then applying more foundation to cover the breakout. You may even be using scrubbing cleansers more frequently to combat the acne creating more tears. This can lead to "blood poisoning" and, though neither USA today or Forbes mentions this, blood poisoning (not a medical term btw. Its sepsis.) according to numerous medical sites has the potential to be extremely lethal. The symptoms are so similar to a regular flu its nearly impossible to self-diagnose.

The very first thing I was told when a friend handed me a jar of finishing powder- popular with many beauty gurus for the "baking" technique and considered a must have- was a joke about "clown lung." This was a reference to the main ingredient talc. Talc causes lung problems including cancer and respiratory illness. If anyone remembers the large Johnson and Johnson lawsuit from 2019 it was because theyd been putting talc into baby powder. Talc is dangerous because it's impossible to mine and seperate from ASBESTOS. Some high-end finishing powders will try to sell you on safe talc-free formulas but all the products I looked into contained mica instead which causes pneumoconiosis, colloquially known as "black lung disease." Like fucking coal miners get. Its not just present in finishing powder either. In my research it turned out that talc/asbestos are also present in many eyeshadows and other powder products. [Googleable, evidenced in J&J lawsuit]

Another industry to examine is nail salons. Toluene, Formaldehyde, Dibutyl Phthalate, and Methacrylate compounds are all dangerous ingredients and present in various salon products. These ingredients cause a range of problems from dizziness, drowsiness, birth defects, slow fetal growth, future intellectual disabilities in the fetus, eye skin and throat irritation, coughing, allergic reactions, asthma-like attacks, short-term memory loss, nausea, dermatitis, cancer, and misscarriage. Some nail products advertise that they are 3-free meaning that toluene, formaldehyde, and DP should be absent but often the labels are found to be completely inaccurate. It should be noted that the risk is mainly to salon workers and not patrons but ask yourself if it is right to place other people at serious risk for your aesthetic. OSHA does make an attempt to mitigate these risks however not once in my years of makeup queen did I see a salon following these directives which include constant air monitoring, half mask respirators with chemical cartridges, gloves, long sleeves, and safety glasses. (And Im not even going to touch issues of human trafficking/slave labour out of nail salons one case of which occured 5 days ago two hours away from me) It should also be noted that formaldehyde can also be found in hair relaxers and hair dyes. [Found articles in Scientific American and NYT]

I also found on the FDAs website that many cosmetics include heavy metals like arsenic, mercury, and lead. (Usually accompainied by a picture of lipstick so I assume that is the product most likely to contain it, however campaign for safe cosmetics lists foundation as containing heavy metals, and The Guardian has an article about skin lighteners from Asia and Africa containing mercury.) The website stated that the amount of these heavy metals in cosmetics is "safe" if used as intended. (and I'm going to come back to the concept of "intended use" later because thats a can of worms too) However, when searching for info on heavy metal safety I found this quote in regards to metals in food:

"Certain metals, such as arsenic, lead and mercury, have no established health benefit, and have been shown to lead to illness, impairment, and in high doses, death. Understanding the risk that harmful metals pose in our food supply is complicated by the fact that no single food source accounts for most people’s exposure to metals in foods. People’s exposure comes from many different foods containing these metals. Combining all of the foods we eat, even low levels of harmful metals from individual food sources, can sometimes add up to a level of concern"

So like, which is it? Is it a "safe amount" or is no amount of metal safe? I understand that in the case of certain foods like fish some amount of mercury poisoning is always expected but fish is also something you feed yourself and nourish your body with while cosmetics are completely unecessary to your survival. The mercury problem in fish is also mitigated by health warnings when mercury levels are particularly high but cosmetics have no such warning. Another warning on the site indicated that children should ingest NO amount of lead AT ALL because it is particularly harmful for kids yet theres no effort to stop children from using lead-containing cosmetics. I worked next to a Five Below where I was shocked to find they sold Jeffree Star and Anastasia eyeshadow dupes for five dollars which amounts to fucking pocket change for a lot of kids and kids do buy that stuff. I also think its ironic the FDA would have anything to say regarding cosmetics because in the very same article about heavy metals in cosmetics the FDA says that they DO NOT REGULATE cosmetics beyond the color additives.

Mascara, eyeliner, lipstick, and brow tint often contain carbon black. This is a color additive that is an incomplete combustion of carbon-based products. It can cause lung disease, cancer, and organ system toxicity, and eye, nose, throat irritation. The effects are mainly studied in rats and those at biggest risk are industrial workers but why do other workers have to endure lung problems for something so unecessary? [Easily googleable, NIH, CDC, WHO Europe]

This next bit I only want to mention briefly because I didnt find any particularly reputable sources about it, but its a claim that cropped up repeatedly and I think its an interesting one. Parabens, estrogen, phthalates (again), and pesticides in cosmetics are apparently linked to endocrine disorders and hormone dysregulation. Im not entirely sure what is meant by this accusation. Endocrine disorders include female diseases like PCOS and possibly endometriosis. None of these diseases is very well studied and the female endocrine system itself is not well studied either. Im not saying "cosmetics cause PCOS" because we dont know if PCOS or these other endocrine/hormonal disorders are genetic or environmental or both (it appears that PCOS is largely genetic and Endometriosis is likely autoimmune related) AND we dont appear to know for sure that cosmetic ingredients cause endocrine disorder. But I include anyway for a number of reasons:

If you happen to struggle with hormonal problems you may want to know cosmetics is a potential environment factor.

These conditions are incredibly painful. It will be a battle getting your doctor to even acknowledge that pain for diagnosis. PCOS is linked to diabetes, and heart disease. [Thanks @mother-of-pearl ] There is no cure and the treatments are often throwing hormonal birth control at it and hoping for the best.

I dont anticipate the link between cosmetics and endocrine disorders being studied any time soon or any endocrine disorders studied at all because the medical/scientific field is sexist. I dont want women to suffer in the mean time.

Now again, take this with a grain of salt because I couldnt find scientific or news sources for it. Dont fucking come for me. Im not gonna respond to you. [Most reputable source was a paper from the library of medicine at the national institutes of health but it was behind a paywall and I dont have 39 dollars to be right on tumblrdotcom]

Avoiding these ingredients is not as simple as scanning the label for them. As many beautubers and the community are no doubt aware considering multiple scandals over veganism. Products advertised as vegan or cruelty free but contain non-vegan carmine or are sold in China which legally requires the products to be animal tested. Cosmetic companies will hide ingredients claiming they are "trade secrets" or they will be placed under "fragrance." Many ingredients will be known by six or seven different names and asking consumers to be aware of seven different names for multiple ingredients requires consumers to be aware of innumerable different, often complicated ingredient names. I shouldnt have to point out that's a ridiculous burden to place on women. The EU banned 1,300 hazardous ingredients that the US did not. Cosmetic companies rely on women being unwilling/unable to bring in a list of 1,300 ingredients- with multiple names- every time they pop in to the drug store, sephora, or wherever. Buying "natural" products will not help you either. Theres no established criteria for natural/organic in costmetics, the FDA doesnt test these products, and "natural"=/= safe anyway. Plenty of plants and minerals are poisonous. One good example is traditional kohl products which advertise their natural status but also naturally contain lead and reiterating that natural powders contain mica. US courts are rarely on the side of consumers either. I found an interesting lawsuit against St. Ives for their apricot scrub taken to court for their "dermatologist tested" label despite it causing breakouts and cuts to the skin. The courts ruled that this label was fine because it only indicated that the product was TESTED not APPROVED by dermatologists. However I think any rational consumer would look at this label and assume the tests concluded it was safe for use or else why put the label on there?

[Googlable XMONDO drama, googlable laws wrt china and eu, already stated about FDA, FDA website about Kohl. Googled St. Ives lawsuit.]

I want to return to the idea of "intended use." This is sort of a fucky concept a lot of companies have ways of getting around. My "last straw" with makeup had to do with a run-in I had with Anastasia over their "Riviera" eyeshadow palette. In this pallette they had two colors that were the real feature of the palette, an electric neon purple and a radioactive pink I mean every photo, every promotion has these two colors swirled together around the eye. Because again, its an eyeshadow palette. When I buy the eyeshadow palette of course there's a little insert warning in the package that says these two shades are not intended on the eye area. In an eyeshadow palette. Contacting their customer service they told me that these two shades were meant to be used as a blush. neon purple blush. Not only that, but their website and instagram featured NO models wearing the shades as blush while EVERY model one or more of the shades as eyeshadow. When asked about this discrepancy ABH stopped responding. What I find egregious about this is the amount of people who dont know, and then more staggeringly; dont care. The sephora clerks didnt know, the in store abh representative didnt know, their customers didnt know, and when I told them they would respond with "oh, [brand] did the same thing with their [shade]." Sure enough, when I demanded that store clerks open the packaging to look for warnings nearly every product had an "eyeshadow" that was not intended for use on the eyes. Relegating dark, red-toned teal to "contour" and neon grean to "highlighter" US-based cosmetic junkies will say that these pigments have been approved for use by the EU however I found absolutely NO evidence of that. I googled it a thousand ways but all I ever found were blog posts, reddit comments, and one quote from an apparently nonEuropean layman in an Insider article. I even changed my location to France on ABH's website and the Norvina palette still contains the same warnings (not to harp on ABH in particular. I just know which shades in particular are the problem there). The Insider article noted that brands who were selling pressed pigments declined to comment. If the pressed pigments were EU friendly, I would think companies would be clamouring to say so. It also still makes their market as eyeshadow colors illegal in the US. (If any Europeans would like to chime in I'd love that.) Another problem I find with cosmetics companies and their reps is the claim that the worst thing that could happen is eye irritation for those with sensitive eyes and staining. How could they possibly know? The FDA doesnt test, or approve these cosmetics in the eye area, so ostensibly no one should be using it that way.

The next one is a bit of a "duh" but I'm going to talk about it anyway. Counterfeit cosmetics are a booming market full of untold dangers. Untold primarily because these products could contain literally anything. Ive read about glue, arsenic, lead, feces, staph, and horse urine to name a few. The labels and ingredient list on these products are fake. Legitimate brands often unintentionally play into the counterfeit market. They create artificial scarcity by making less of the product than is actually needed for consumer demand to create an even higher demand. If consumers miss out often their only chance at getting the product is to turn to counterfeits. I found examples of women who had their lips superglued, lips "turned to goo" and burned to blistering, throat closures, women with stys, contact dermatitis, eye infections. I think we as a society turn a blind eye to this problem because we think "hey, if youre buying counterfeits for a discount and you get hurt you deserve it." We imagine idiots buying products for 4 dollars from ebay or perusing Canal street for FEИTY beauty. But these counterfeits can be really convincing. I myself received a gift of a huda palette that I only recognized something was weird about it because I'd swatched it at sephora about five times earlier that month. The person who bought it for me actually paid MORE than the usual cost for the palette because it was advertised as a newer, better edition. The websites can be disturbingly similar. For instance Kylie Jenner's legitimate website is KylieCosmetics.com but you can find fakes at kyliecosmeticsshop.co.uk. These fakes can buy ad space and be one of the first sites that populate when you google the products instead of typing the legitimate site into the address bar. Counterfeits can also be bought and sold through third parties on websites like ebay, wish, and amazon. (My gift actually came from Amazon.)

[Netflix doc "Broken" ep "Makeup Mayhem" Corroborated by personal experience and google]

[daydreamrry]

One thing that really pisses me off about shippers is that they think they have the right to speak for those who Olivia has offended. Like unless you are apart of the LGBTQ+ community, unless you are a POC, unless you are a woman/WOC, unless you are apart of the disabled community, you cannot and should not speak for those who are. Shippers completely invalidate the feelings of those who she offended by saying that “it isn’t a big deal” or that “they took it out of context” like how are you going to tell someone how they can and cannot feel in regards to hatred, racism, homophobia, ableism? It’s disgusting, honestly. This goes for others who offended these communities as well. It doesn’t matter how long ago it was, she was a GROWN adult. She should’ve known better, and she continues to behave inappropriately now too. They say that “we wouldn’t be digging up her past if she wasn’t with Harry,” well they wouldn’t be defending her if she wasn’t with Harry, but they want to leave that part out to make us look bad for disliking her. They even drag others into the conversation knowing that we’re right about her yet they don’t want to admit it but rather shift the focus onto someone else.

OH MY GOOOOOD i cannot stress this enough!!!! it’s so invalidating and disrespectful because it silences the voices of those who she offended. like i will never shut up about this because this is an ongoing issue and it sucks.

white people love, and i mean LOVE, to speak for POC. just like how men love to speak for women, white people love to speak for POC. and you know how women come together to fight against the sexism experienced in our society? i am all for that, but where’s that energy when white people speak for POC?

in this fandom, it happens on the daily. these fans telling us that we’re “being too sensitive” or “taking things out of context” have absolutely zero fucking idea how exhausting it is having to deal with the normalization of racism on a daily basis while these racists get a free pass just because of their gender, race, and association.

if she wasn’t with harry, they’d call her out. 100%. because she is with him, they give her a free pass. they know it, we know it, even olivia fucking knows it. that’s why she continues to do what she does.

and it’s even worse because i’ve seen some people who aren’t in the fandom show sympathy towards her and use the “jealous” excuse when she doesn’t deserve that… at all. to me, it seems like people in this fandom, shippers to be exact, are trying to make it seem like we’re hating on her for no reason other than the fact that she’s “dating” harry and are excusing her insanely problematic behavior, and it makes us look bad.

not only that, but it takes the attention away from the situation which is the last thing that we need. racism and homophobia are two issues that our world faces today, and the more people let others get away with their insensitive behavior, we won’t be able to solve this problem.

like anon said, unless you are apart of either community that she offended, you have no right to speak out on whether or not what she said was disrespectful. and you have no right to tell others how they can/cannot feel.

[i-cant-tellyoumysecrets]

Secret

My secret is that I have been pretending online to be a mentally/physically disabled girls boyfriend for almost 2 months now. She asked me out one day whilst suicidal so I said yes. She loves me more than anything. I don't love her. It started off with me trying to help her be happy, but unintentionally made her fall for me. The worst part of it all is that she is significantly younger, so there is no way it would work out in the way she envisions it. I feel like a horrible human as we talk about how well get married etc. but I know how much she loves me and I cant bear to leave her in a worse position than when I met her. I plan on being ‘with’ her for as long as she cant visit me. When she starts seriously talking about coming to see me I will have to ghost her probably. It just feels terrible that I may be misleading someone intentionally for anywhere from 2 months to 5 years.

Note from the owner of this blog: I have not replied to messages in some time, as I have grown up a lot since my time as a daily user of this site. However, I do check from time to time, and I don’t know when this Secret was submitted, but I have something to say about it.

This is a description of a toxic relationship. This person needs help and support that you alone are not able to provide. You may think you can help her and that you should, but a healthy relationship includes the health and happiness of both partners involved in the relationship. Unfortunately, the issues she is dealing with need to be addressed by a professional and/or supported by a family system, preferably both. I found myself in a similar relationship. I did feel I loved him deeply for some time, but eventually, something started to not feel right, and I was not sure he loved me, nor was I sure I loved him. Either way, I tried to leave him because I knew that I was unhappy, but I stayed because I was afraid that he would hurt himself. I tried to take a break 3 times before lies were revealed and I finally had to let go. As far as I am aware, he is doing alright now. The point is, this is toxic. You are not a bad person for engaging in this relationship. You wanted to help her and felt like it was the right thing to do, but the ultimate truth is, you are both better off pursuing alternative routes. You are not in love with her and are unhappy. That is not fair to you, nor is it fair to her, especially if she feels she is in love with you. She does not want to forever be with someone who does not love her and she should be given the time to heal and then pursue what is right for her when the time is right. This relationship is a lie and honesty is important. If your situation is dangerous or volatile, reach out to friends and family, yours and hers, for support. If the situation is benign, do the same thing before cutting ties/establishing boundaries to ensure her safety. As long as she has a support system outside of you, you can rest assured that she will be taken care of, and then you can take steps toward distancing yourself from this situation, understanding who you are, and moving on.

Again, I presume this from a while ago, but I hope the example helps whoever out there is in a situation like this. To the OP, I understand you, and I hope you are well. 

[the-jade-cross]

No Matter What - Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Fawn didn't know what emotions to feel as she sat beside the unconscious Alby as he lay in the bed, sweating and moaning in his sleep. Thomas and Minho had appeared alive at the gate of the maze that morning with the news that Thomas had killed one of the hideous beasts. Fawn reached over and felt Alby's forehead and found it to be boiling hot, hotter than it had been 3 minutes ago . The girl was just reaching out for a fresh cold pack when she heard yells coming from outside. Sprinting out, she was shocked to find all the boys at the foot of the lookout, rocks raining down on them like giant hail ... But to Fawn it sounded like someone was playing drums while everybody else was yelling in fright.

“ I don't think she likes us,” Newt yelled over the ruckus.

Fawn finally reached them and the raining rocks continued but now that she was close, the sound was louder.

“ what is going on? Did Winston dream he was a monkey again!?”

Newt shook his head , “ a new greenie came up... it's a girl and she is very ornery.”

Fawn frowned, “but it has only been a few days since Thomas.”

“exactly,” the boy agreed, “and what is even more crazy, is the first thing that she said was Thomas's name and she was looking right at him as if she knew him.”

Fawn perst her lips in thought as the rocks stopped pelting down on them and she could hear Thomas making his way cautiously up the ladder to talk to the new greanie.

“ I'm guessing Gally isn't taking this too well? He seemed pissed earlier when Thomas got all that praise for surviving the maze .”

Newt chuckled and Fawn did not need an answer when she heard Gally nearby grumbling something about suspicious happenings.

“ I think he should worry less about Thomas and his coincidal involvement and worry more about the New Girl. I haven't met her really but something does not feel right about her .” Newt mumbled.

Fawn nodded in agreement and began to make her way to the slaughterhouse with Drake to do the daily release of the goats. A few hours later when she had fed the animals for the evening, she tucked Drake into bed in his little Patch of hay near the chickens and returned to check on Alby. When she walked in, she could hear Minho, Gally, Thomas, Newt... and a girls voice there. She must be the greenie... but what were they doing in here with Alby? “ Fawn,” Newt said, walking over to take her hand, “ Alby is going to be OK. There was a cure in the box and it seems to be working .”

“ oh, Fawn,” Thomas said, “this is Teresa.”

Fawn tilted her head, the girl had been here 2 hours and already she knew her name? Now that was sketchy. Fawn held out her hand blindly to Teresa and felt long skinny fingers grab her hand.

“so you are the blind girl,” Teresa's voice huffed.

Fawn did not know if she should feel offended by the greeting or worried by the fact that Teresa already knew about her blindness.

“ we never told you that Fawn was blind.” Minho observed, his voice darkening with suspicion.

Teresa brushed it off with a high pitched a giggle, “oh I could tell since her eyes are void of any feeling or intelligence. You cannot be intelligent if you are as blind as a bat.”

Minho, Gally and Newt all moved to defend Fawn and drill the greenie with their suspicions when Fawn spoke up first.

“ actually, bats are not so blind that they cannot see squat. Same for me. I may not be able to see color in detail but I see enough to know that you have long hair, are as skinny as a broomstick and you keep looking at Thomas every 3.2568 minutes. ”

The added decimals were not actually accurate but the three minutes were and despite the fact that the boys knew that Fawn had told a tall tale for the last part just for good measure, they were impressed while Teresa looked furious.

“so a cure huh?” Fawn asked, touching Alby's head that was no longer on fire with a fever, “how did you know it would work?”

“ we didn't,” Gally explained, “but miss greanie-I -know-everything injected it into Alby before we could stop her .”

Teresa crossed her arms over her chest ... Actually below her chest in an attempt to push her boobs up to try to make them bigger than they were once she had noticed that Fawn had a natural decently sized rack . “ you are not going to lock me up so don't bother thinking about it. I've just saved your leader .”

“at what risk?” Newt snapped, “for all we know it could have killed him! You were just lucky but you won't be lucky because we are locking you up until tomorrow when we can decide what to do with your obnoxious ass. While Alby is out I am in charge and both you and Thomas here have some serious explaining to do. Gally you may do the honors.” new one Gally grabbed one of Teresa's arms and began dragging her out of the room and motioned for Thomas to follow. When they were almost out the door, Thomas realized that it also meant his lock up for directly disobeying one of the three rules: entering the maze when you are not a runner and he began to follow them out while the other three lingered behind.

“ and so you know,” Minho whispered to Fawn, “Thomas, myself and some of the guys went back into the maze to the dead griever and we found this radio thing in its gut... we think there may be a way out of the maze .”

“let's focus on the overly suspicious greanie and then we can discuss theories,” Newt suggested gently.

Fawn groaned, “can I sick Drake on her?”

Newt and Minho both laughed when they were brutally cut off by the most horrifying scream they had ever heard. Rushing out as fast as they could run, the three saw that the sun had set and the glade members were running around like frightened ants that had their anthill run over by human foot. Newt was about to ask what was going on from one of the boys that ran past them when Gally ran up to them, having just locked both Thomas and Teresa up in the Brig.

“the maze... the maze is not closing!” he panted in fear.

Fawn's eyes widened in fear and she turned to Newt, “ but if the doors do not close when it's dark... that means...”

Newt nodded, already knowing what she was going to say, “ grievers.”

Just as those words left his lips, loud piercing screeches swallowed the maze and the glade and emerging from the maze like giant spiders from a hole came hundreds of giant spider like creatures... and the glade would be prey to them all night... with no protection.

********

Newt chewed steadily on his fingernails, a nervous habit that he had broken long ago and only just now reintroduced to himself. The sun was high in the sky, shining down on the emptiness of the Glade. More than half of the boys had been slaughtered by the grievers and their bodies dragged back into the maze-like wolves taking a carcass into their cave. The boy looked over at where Fawn stood by her torn hammock with Drake at her side, gathering what little things she owned, including the name jar and slipping them discreetly into a knapsack.

After what had happened the night before and how Alby, Zart and so many of the other guys had been massacred, Gally had accused Thomas and Teresa of being spies of WICKED and had encouraged more than half of the remaining glade members to banish them to the maze that night and Newt had told Minho, Chuck and Fawn to gather a few supplies and be prepared to enter the maze with them and try to find a way out. After all, another night with the grievers on the loose would kill them all and the passage Thomas had found was their only hope.

Newt abruptly reached out and grabbed Minho’s arm, the boy having just walked past him.

“I need to speak with you,” He hissed in an urgent tone to the runner.

He apparently got Minho’s attention for the boy stopped walking and listened to him intently, “What is going on? Is it about Thomas stabbing himself with that stinger to try and “get back his memory”? We already agreed to not question his motives on the fact that he did find out what WICKED has been doing to us here all this time.”

Newt shook his head, “It’s not that. This is about Fawn.”

Minho immediately froze and his eyes glazed over with concern, “What is it?”

“We are going to enter the maze tonight Minho. The grievers will be all over us like ants and the maze is exactly what it is: a maze. If we do not get to the secret chamber before the grievers discover that the minnows are in the water, then there is less chance of us surviving than the chances we had last night. You and I both know that if they attack, they will take out the weak, slower and disabled ones of us.”

Minho smiled softly, “I wouldn’t worry about Fawn man. She is wicked fast with that bow of hers and she doesn’t even need good eyes to see those grievers. Fawn will probably be the last person who would be prey to those creatures.”

Newt nodded, “I know that which is why I need to ask a favor of you.”

“Anything man. What do you need?” Minho asked, completely oblivious.

Newt swallowed thickly, hating himself for having to say this to his best friend and hating the fact that it was the right thing to do, “If we get out of that maze, I need you to promise me that you will look after Fawn. she trusts you Minho probably more than she trusts me because she knows that you will tell her how things are straight to her face and not make up a story to make the truth seem so much better than it is. Promise me that you will take care of her.”

Minho frowned and his deep brown eyes were full of fear and confusion, “What are you talking about? How do you know that you wont be there to take care of her? You aren’t planning on breaking off this thing you have with her are you? Newt, man, Fawn loves you more than anyone else and if she had to choose between the two of us to care for her, she would pick you each and every single time.”

“It isnt because I want to give her up,” Newt explained, “But how can I care for her if I am dead Griever lunch? Minho, they will go after the weakest of us… the ones who stand little chance of surviving. Out of everyone in the Glade, I am the weakest amongst us. Never in my life have I hated my limp more than right now when I know that it will slow me down and give me a higher chance of being one of the first to be picked off. You have to pick off the dull, rotten grapes first before you go in for the ripe, healthy ones.”

“Stop comparing yourself to grapes!” Minho interrupted, cringing at the thought, “Newt, Buddy, stop being the old grandma who is planning who will attend her funeral and what her coffin will look like even before she is diagnosed with a fatal disease. We have no control over when we die or how we go. Until the day when you are dying of a fatal disease or wounded and will never recover, I do not want to be talking about you dying or what you will put in your will! We’re too young to be even thinking about this!

Newt sighed, “Minho, there was a thirteen year old boy who died last night even though yesterday morning he never thought he was going to see death in the safety of the maze. We are in the battle of our lives and our opponent is death itself. Just like you said, we have no control over when we die nor do we have control over if we are allowed to keep living. Everything is a game of chance and my chances of making it out of the griever nest alive are much fewer than you and Fawn’s chances. You are a runner Minho, you run from death every day while I’m the guy who tried to take life and death into his own hands and what do I get? A lame leg and a girl I am madly in love with and zero chance of making it out alive with.”

Minho opened his mouth to protest but Newt gripped his shoulders in his hands, “Mate, I may or may not die tonight in the maze but either way, I am asking this of you because I cannot bear to leave Fawn alone without either of us knowing who will care for her. Whether my time comes tonight in that bloody maze or if it doesn’t come until I’m old and grey and eighty-four and sitting in a rocking chair with Fawn at my side, I want to know that no matter what, Fawn will be safe and taken care of.”

Minho’s lip was trembling as he listened to Newt’s heartfelt words. The boy couldn’t recall the last time he had been brought to tears… definitely not since he entered the maze. He bit his lip because darn it all if Newt was the one who would make him cry, he would die embarrassed and ashamed that it took Newt talking all serious to make him cry.

“I…” he stuttered out, feeling his vision blur from the salty tears, “Newt…”

The lame boy smiled and pulled the runner into his arms and hugged him close. There had never really been hugs passed around between the boys before. Of course when Fawn arrived that changed and Minho now wondered why none of them had hugged each other before. He felt all his pain and worry wash away. Newt pulled away and gripped the boy’s shoulders tightly as he stared into his very soul with his big chocolate brown eyes.

“Promise me… please Minho,” he whispered hoarsely as tears of his own sprung ot his eyes but he let them fall freely.

The runner sighed deeply and nodded his head, a single tear escaping his eyes, “I’ll do it…. the day something happens to you, i will take care of Fawn.”

[pinkchaosart]

On transphobia towards our Sisters (not just our cis-ters)

(TW: talk of transphobia, misogyny, gender and sex-based violence)

So I went and took a look at the post by @persistentlyfem that’s causing a major fuss, and I thought I’d address it as a lesbian femme myself. I see a lot of the common talking points that get thrown around and I’m seeing some truly toxic replies being thrown in her direction. Eight years ago I might have agreed with the replies, but I think it’s more useful to engage those talking points and maybe we can meet with some kind of understanding.

Now I want to get a few things out of the way first. Persistentlyfem says, if not in the main post then elsewhere on her blog, that she doesn’t identify as a radfem (radical feminist), so I won’t assume that she is one. I will however address the points she raises as being part of the trans-exclusionist radical feminist ideology, as that’s where the ideas seem to have come from.

One of the biggest misunderstanding between radical feminists and liberal feminists is the concept of gender vs. sex and their importance when speaking of identities. TERF ideology is rooted in second-wave feminism of the 60’s, 70’s and 80’s, which was a necessary step in the feminist school of thought and is the reason we have a lot of our modern rights. Most people who are trans-exclusionary would describe themselves as gender-critical, but in my opinion, I believe that being exclusionary towards trans women is rooted in the resistance to third-wave feminist ideas of individualism and diversity. But we’ll hold that thought for now.

The ideal of radical feminism is to liberate women by tearing down the concept of gender, abolishing it all together. The ideal of liberal feminism is to create equality by creating safe and inclusive spaces for everyone, regardless of gender, via social and legal reform. Basically the main difference between the two schools of thought is one seeks to destroy gender as a construct and the other seeks to expand it to be more inclusive. It’s important to note that being a radical feminist does not automatically mean that you must be trans-exclusionary.

So I’d like to talk about some specific talking points. I took a little stroll down Persistentlyfem’s blog to see what her experience has been and so that I can understand where she’s coming from. Normally I wouldn’t engage in this kind of conversation because I’m disabled so I have very little energy to spare, but as a fellow butch-attracted femme, I thought it might be useful to respond to her  thoughts. I won’t respond to all the points in her recent post, but I will try to talk about the core ideas.

I see that she’s concerned with misogyny in LGBTQ2S+ spaces. I agree it’s widespread, often in ways that are covert. I see it in how butches treat femmes, how gay men talk about women, and how we speak to fellow gay women who disagree with our opinions. And, If I understand correctly, it’s that internalized misogyny that she believes is responsible for trans women believing they should be included in women-only spaces. I argue that it’s quite the opposite, and that it’s actually misogyny that keeps trans-women from being fully accepted.

What I mean is that I find the argument for “female-only spaces” (assigned female at birth, cisgendered women) quite reductive. It implies that there is only one way to be a woman and it reduces us to our genitalia. I don’t think anyone would say they’re a woman because they have a vagina and mean it fully (maybe you would, I don’t really know you). They would also say that their experiences shape them as a woman as well. And I agree, what makes a woman involves quite a lot of factors, and no two women’s experiences are the same. Persistentlyfem has argued that trans women are raised and socialized as male, but I disagree. Setting aside that trans women aren’t a monolith and have completely different socializations between individuals, I would agree that most trans women are treated as male growing up, but for the most part, it doesn’t quite….fit them. More accurately I would say our culture attempts to socialize them as men.

When I think back to my own experience growing up, I, like a lot of girls, had a “not like other girls” period. Internalized misogyny, great right? Because the socialization of “girl” didn’t quite right, the definition being narrow and rigid. Based on stereotypes. So I found my femininity later in my teens. I argue that this is something that most women go through in some way or another. We find our socialization as women uncomfortable and constraining. Not quite right.

As I said, you can’t speak of trans women as a monolith, but from the stories and dialogue I’ve been involved in, countless stories sound exactly like that. Being socialized into a Gender Box that doesn’t suit you is like watching a video in a language you don’t speak. Internalized misogyny is a universal experience between girls growing up, cis and trans, and it is internalized misogyny that keeps trans women from accepting who they truly are. In fact, for them to run away from woman as their identity would inherently be internalized misogyny.

The idea that trans ideology is based in “regressive stereotypes about ‘boys and girls’” isn’t wholly incorrect. I think we all agree that gender is a social construct. But that doesn’t make my identity as a women more valid than someone who transitioned later in life. It doesn’t follow that a trans’ person’s gender is less real than a cis person’s gender. And while we live in our culture and our current society, gender is something that we interact with on a daily basis, which makes it real in a very real sense. We could argue whether it should be that way, but the situation is currently that gender is an important construct in our culture. Not to mention, the thought that all trans people fall in a strict “man” or “woman” binary is incorrect as there are plenty of people that embody other gender identities. Indeed, there are many wonderful trans people that we could argue are the radfem ideal of aegender and/or non binary.

Now the idea that “lesbians and straight men like vaginas. Gays and straight women like penises” is a bit of a stretch. Again, I think a statement like this is pretty oversimplified, but I don’t think that you’re inherently wrong. Generally speaking, sure. Although, again, I’ve met plenty of straight women dating trans men, and there are plenty of straight men that date trans women. But the inherent flaw in this argument isn’t that you’re wrong, but that it implies that attraction equals validity. Am I a woman because a man is attracted to my vagina? No. Am I less of a woman if men aren’t attracted to me? Again, no. My gender isn’t contingent on other’s attraction to me, and that is the same for trans individuals. I think this kind of argument comes from the pressure that is sometimes felt within our community, that if you’re not open to dating trans people then you’re inherently transphobic. I am not going to get into that argument, as this is a whole other can of worms. But what I am going to say is that nobody is going to force you to date a trans person. You don’t have to date someone if you don’t want to. You don’t have to tell everyone why you don’t want to date them, you can just politely decline. 

I’m going to be blatantly honest: I am predominantly attract to butch women and afab non binary masculine people. I have never dated someone who was amab, and generally speaking I don’t find myself attracted to them. But that doesn’t mean I think that trans women aren’t women just because I generally don’t find myself attracted to them. 

On top of this I’m going to agree with you: sex based oppression does exist. So does gender-based oppression. I know I have experienced bullying in my own time based on my own gender, my ability, my weight, all that good stuff. Maybe some of it was based around embarrassing period episodes (which I would file under sex-based bullying). But misogyny is not just sex-based, it is also inherently gendered. And if we know anything about trans women, it’s that they are overly targeted with violence based on their gender. Especially if they’re BIPOC. And it’s because their gender is feminine that they’re perceived as being targets; is that not the epitome of misogyny? To hate a person because they’re not perceived as the patriarchal male ideal?

Something else I would like to talk about is the concept that trans women are inherently misogynistic. I would argue that every woman, regardless of what they were assigned at birth, carries internalized misogyny. Cis women, however, have years to grapple with it before becoming women. Trans women tend to not have as much time to unlearn internalized misogyny before they become women. That doesn’t invalidate them as women, it just means that we should be more supportive of them, not less. All of this trans-exclusionary rhetoric only serves to increase their self-hatred and I argue that that kind of talk is a contributing factor to the poor mental health we see in the trans community. Instead of supporting some of the people with the greatest insight into the patriarchy, trans-exclusionists push women away and inflict them with even more gendered violence and gender-based discrimination. 

The other thing I want to address is the idea that trans women transitioning is rooted in homophobia. Which seems to make sense if you think of trans women being only attracted to men. The idea that a man decides to be a woman because he can’t deal with being gay doesn’t make a lot of sense, though. Homophobia tends to be rooted in misogyny too, a fear of being less of a man. So it doesn’t follow that the solution would be to “become a woman” much like the solution to put out a fire isn’t to light more things on fire. Piggybacking off of this point, a lot of trans exclusionists will accuse trans women of being predators. In fact, often, they’ll hold these two ideas at the same time. But the reality is that, if a man wants to prey on women, he doesn’t need to become a woman. The sign on the bathroom door isn’t actually a deterrent if a man wants to follow a woman in. And again, it’s a counter-intuitive idea, that a man who wants to prey on women would go through all the legal hurdles, all the social stigma, even some medical treatments just to gain access to women’s only spaces. Besides the fact that this type of behaviour is a myth created by conservative right-wing christian groups to stir up fear, it doesn’t happen and assault is still illegal regardless of what your gender marker is. 

I am not going to address anything about surgery or hormones. Those points are only ever brought up as enforcing points, they’re not the main issues. Most of the rhetoric is based in fear-mongering conservative right-wing christian groups drum up and it is, again, a whole other topic that requires nuance that most people don’t acknowledge.

The main point I see Persistantlyfem talk about, and something we can agree on, is the misogyny in LGBTQ2S+ spaces. We all like to think that, somehow through our journeys of discovering our true selves, we shed the misogyny along the way, that our spaces are truly accepting of all genders and presentations. That’s not the case. Misogyny is still a problem in every letter of our community and it will be for a long time. We see it when butches treat femmes as “high maintenance” or like property, we see it in how gay men talk about female bodies. We see it the self-hatred trans people of all gender identities feel towards themselves. We see it when lesbians reject bisexual women. 

Throwing around “terf” helps nobody. Calling each other stupid and pretentious is not useful. I know this is a painful topic to many on both sides, but the infighting in the queer community is toxic and needs to come down from a boil if we’re going to make any progress. Most people that sling insults are younger and therefor are more hot-headed. I used to be too, and still can be sometimes but like I said, limited energy means that you tend to focus it more consciously and I hope that this time I’ve spent here can help.

@Persistantlyfem, I see that you were hurt, and I respect and honour your experiences. I suspect that some of those that hurt you were trans women. I understand, I’ve had trans partners hurt me as well. But those experiences don’t allow us to revoke someone else’s right to their own interpretation of themselves. And I’m sorry about all of the toxicity you’ve experienced in these last few weeks, you don’t deserve it. I hope that we can have a conversation in a respectable way, worthy of two adult gays who’ve been through a lot.

[shikagemaru]

Been having an identity crisis recently. There's It a whole lot of things adding up to that. Call it a rant and ignore it if you want. There's only like 3 of you guys anyway.

I would put a readmore here if I knew how to do that on mobile (thanks for sucking, only social media app I feel at all comfortable with)

•It really doesn't help that the past 7 years of my life have been completely stagnant. Since I haven't been able to work my wife and I have had basically no freedom of our own.

•2 years ago I was put in jail because a pair of psychopaths decided to go from 70 to 0 on the highway in front of us, and get out to try attacking us. I tried backing up to go around but obviously the car behind me was too close and the highway was at speed in the right lane. So I had to go around on the grass while these 2 crazy assholes were approaching while shouting threats. One was coming for my wife's window. So I did what I had to and bumped one of them. He wouldn't move and our safety was more important than him being hurt a little. There was a high speed chase through our community, and while we're on the phone with the police these two are trying to force us off the road. The cops even see one of them hanging out the window shouting threats at us. We pull into a mcdonalds parking lot and after talking to them for a bit the cops arrest me because he said I "ran him over" on purpose. He was so uninjured that he refused medical care at the scene, but he kept telling people I ran him over. They were also both arrested btw. I was held without food or mpving air for over 13 hours and I have a history of heat stroke and hypoglycemia (it's bot exactly that, but it's like living outside of a big city and tellinf people you're from there instead of the local podunk you actually live in). Long story short it was torturous, and then I got put in actual jail. They didn't care that I have a long list of disabilities. When I was released I had to wear an anklr monitor while taking weekly drug tests. The numbers on the drug test kept reading that I was using weed even though I wasn't. It was insanely stressful as the numbers didn't change from one week to another. My fear was that because I was rapidly losing weight from stress that the thc being held onto in the fat was being detected. NOPE. turns out one of my DAILY meds was testing false positive. "Shouldn't they know about the false positive drug and account for it?" Youd think. But when they scanned my medication bottles that one came out blurred and they never entered it into their system. In case there are any lingering feelings that I was guilty, the court case more than handled that. The prosecutor was the kind of scumbag that, before my trial, tried prosecuting this guy's mother-in-law for assaulting him when she tried taking her grandkid out of his arms because he was using the baby to shield himself when the family confronted him about having a fake medical license and it ruining all their lives. It turns out I was put through hell and all he was seeking was "anger management counciling" because he believed that I, the guy protecting his wife, had road rage issues. One listen to the 911 calls would have straightened thst up. My lawyer kicked his ass just a little more than I did on the stand. Long story concluded, thanks for the ptsd. The nightmares have been lovely. So is panicking whenever a door closes kinda loud.

•Last year I was able to self diagnose myself with autism. For those who don't know, the vast majority of autistic people self diagnose, largely due to "experts" on average not being well educated on what autism is outside of the stereotypical cases. Most women aren't diagnosed until adults. Most "high functioning" (which is an awful description when you lesrn that it was created by a literal nazi to separate autistic people into "kill these ones" and "don't kill these ones" categories) people aren't diagnosed until adulthood. And by then actually getting the diagnosis is a challenge. And frequently it involves exercising privelege to get the right people involved.

So knowing what I know now a lot of my life suddenly makes sense. People accusing me of being manipulative when I literally don't know what it is that makes them think that? Severe miscommunications? Obsessing over specific topics to the point where people want to avoid me? Always being "the weird one" and as a result being a social outcast from day 1? Despite being considered very intelligent, I've been super easily manipulated by people my whole life. I can barely ever tell a person no, even if I know I should. Hell. There have been entire relationships I've had with people where I thought we were friends and they didn't think the same thing. Learning who or even how to trust becomes a challenge.

Yeah, it all makes sense now. I want to say "i don't know how they didn't see it", but I do. The 90s was shit for mental health. Since they knew I had tourettes (thanks for that, universe) and adhd, my obsessive tendencies were labeled ocd. Actual adult relationships have gone entirely to shit because of miscommunication. People seem to think I mean one thing when I mean another entirely. People think I'm angry when I'm not. I've basically been told never to be passionate about a topic.

How does a person handle that? It doesn't unfuck relationships with people. Once someone thinks you're lying and manipulating that's it. Nothing you can ever say will ever dissuade them. It doesn't matter that they were the ones that misunderstood. Somehow it becomes the fault of the autistic person. And good luck if you're ever autistic and have a panic attack. So I'm trying not to care about that. It's hard. It's especially hard knowing that things didn't have to, and may not have gone the way they did if i had known about it earlier. I wish I could rebuild certsin relationships. My wife and I used to fight, but since we realized that both of us have these triggers because we're both autistic, we resolve almost every misunderstanding like a walk in the park. But that doesn't work with people you haven't spoken to in years. Even if a lot of it was frankly their fault.

•And the latest fuckery? I have no idea what gender I am. If I had the power to shapeshift I'd probably change on a daily or hourly basis. I had an alt account years ago where I posted fanfiction. Some people in the community assumed they knew my gender and pronouned me as such in the comments. That was the first time I had ever experienced gender euphoria. I was....upset, when someone corrected them. Would have been nice if they asked me first. I enjoyed the confusion quite a lot actually. And since I have a terrible time coming up with names for things (my screen name is from 20 years ago and I never figured out a new one) so I don't know where I would start building up a new persona. And for what? To get the rush of people not knowing which pronouns to use? I hate it. I want it. I don't know if I can ever come out as trans. People think trans means m2f and f2m, and it doesn't really matter to the public consciousness that there's more to it than that. I want to scream at people that I'm trans, but i don't know what I even want my body to look like. If I woke up tomorrow and I was suddenly transformed would I be happy? I have no idea. No? Yes?

I don't know who I am or how to even identify. I'm a disabled, autistic, lgbtq ethnic minority with no financial freedom, and my 40s are approaching. Life is a challenge. Sometimes I wish I could just Danny Phantom it up. And by sometimes I mean daily.

[writingblock101]

The Billionaire and the Basketcase (Jason Todd x Reader)

I did it! A one-part Jason Todd fic. Geeze, it’s funny because I usually hate the two-part fics, but I’ve written two now. Oh well. Anyways, this is a request done for an anonymous. Hope you like it! 

Summary: Life is weird when your dad is Tony Stark, your boyfriend is Red Hood, and you are a Gotham vigilante, but somehow, life still found a way to throw one hell of a curveball. 

Word Count: 3,900

You’re not fully sure how your parents met, but you do know you’re the product of a one night stand. Despite the surprising circumstances which resulted in your birth, your parents love you dearly, even if your dad isn’t present in your daily life. 

Tony Stark is not a conventional father. Between his own emotional constipation and strained relationship with his parents, the path to fatherhood came with one hell of a learning curve, but he provided in the ways he knew how to: you went to nice schools, lived in a nice house with your mom, and you never needed anything. He always made an effort to know you and be involved in your life. 

Being a Stark isn’t the only source of insanity in your life. A few years ago, you began donning a mask to protect children in abusive homes after the murder of your best friend at the hand of her abusive mother. Funny enough, it’s how you met your boyfriend Jason, who’s life is stranger than yours. 

Tony helped you design a suit that was both light and agile, and protective, fitted with thrusters that allow you to fly and blast enemies. Your mom, on the other hand, wasn’t as excited about your extracurricular activities. While she understood your drive, she wished you would help others in a less unorthodox way, but that doesn’t matter anymore, you suppose. 

Even with all the money in the world, Tony Stark couldn’t keep cancer from claiming your mom’s life two years ago. Those things were in the past and they formed you into who you are today, for better or for worse. 

Despite the strange circumstances in your life, somehow, life still found a way to throw one hell of a curveball. 

                                                         . . . 

You wake up to a phone ringing. Jason groans, blindly stretching out to turn off his phone. The room is silent again and you curl into his chest, one of his arms wrapping around your back. Just as you begin nodding off again, his phone rings again. Jason groans loudly, ready to silence it again. 

“You should answer it,” You murmur to him. 

“It can wait,” He grumbles, silencing it again. 

“What if it’s important?” 

“It can still wait,” Jason relaxes again, shifting to kiss your head then lay back on his pillow.  

You chuckle, knowing his phone is going to ring again. Thirty seconds later, his phone rings again. He groans again but this time answers it. 

“What the fuck do you want, Bruce?” 

You laugh at Jason’s greeting to his adopted father, then resettle on his chest. He absent-mindedly runs his fingers through your hair and down your back while talking to Bruce and you doze off again. 

“Yeah, okay, bye,” Jason tosses his phone back on the nightstand and wraps both arms around you. 

“What did Bruce want?” You ask. 

“Apparently Ivy is in Gotham and he asked us to go after her.”

“Mm, sounds fun,” You hum. “We should go shower.” 

“Or we could just stay in bed,” Jason counters, he tilts your chin up and gives you a long kiss, running his hands up your shirt. 

“I like that idea,” You grin, tossing your leg over Jason to straddle him and kissing him deeply.

                                                          . . . 

You roll out of the way as one of Poison Ivy’s plant’s roots shoots past your face then blast the root with your thrusters. You leap over the root and dodge another, but as you hit the ground, another root shoots out and hits you in the face. 

You fly backward, slamming into the wall as half of your helmet crumbles, revealing part of your face. 

“Ouch,” You groan, then two more roots break through the wall and begin wrapping around you. 

You activate the electrocution feature in your body armor, frying the roots and quickly roll to your feet. Another root is blasted out of the air, right before it would’ve hit you. You glance over to see Red Hood who nods then dodges another root that comes flying at him. 

Ivy is in the middle of the room, controlling the plants. If you can get to her, the plants will die. Your face hardens then you dodge one root and use another as a springboard to launch yourself into the air and dive toward Ivy’s back. 

She senses you coming and sends another root shooting out of the ground that wraps around your neck, holding you in midair. You blast the root but three more shoot out, wrapping around your neck and both arms. Ivy turns to face you, her eyes widening in surprise. 

“Wow, you are a carbon copy of your mother,” She observes. 

You stop struggling for a moment, confused. 

“What the hell are you talking about?” You demand. 

She tilts her head. 

“You don’t know, do you?” 

“Know what?” You growl. 

“Your mother.” 

“What?” 

“You don’t know who your true mother is.” 

You narrow your eyes. What kind of game is Ivy trying to play? 

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” You growl, activating the electrocution in your armor and blasting the roots away. 

You tackle Ivy, pinning her arms down and snap the power disabling collar on her neck. Around you, the plants wither and die while you tie up Ivy. 

“There’s no denying it,” She tells you. “You look just like her.” 

“Shut up,” You mutter. 

“They’ve been lying to you,” Ivy insists. 

You pull tighter on her restraints, your jaw tightening then stand up and walk away, not even entertaining her with a response. 

                                                         . . . 

Later that evening, you sit on a roof, holding your broken helmet in your hands and running your fingers over the jagged break. You’ll have to ask your dad to repair it, but your mind isn’t on your helmet. They’ve been lying to you. 

“Half of your helmet is broken, yet there isn’t a cut on your face,” Jason greets, sitting down next to you. “I dunno, maybe your dad does know what he’s doing.” 

“I’d be careful, he upgraded that helmet you’re wearing himself,” You tease, poking at Jason’s helmet. 

“Yeah, I gotta say, that’s a first. A girlfriend’s dad that actually tries to keep me from dying.” 

You chuckle half-heartedly then frown at your helmet again. 

“Everything okay?” Jason asks. 

“Did you hear what Ivy said?” You ask, glancing over at him. “About my mom?” 

He raises his eyebrows. 

“About not knowing who she is?” 

“Yeah…” You trail off. “That was weird… right?” 

“Yeah,” Jason agrees. “Especially considering your mom is dead.” 

“Exactly! She was just trying to get into my head…” 

“You don’t sound convinced.” 

“It’s just… It’s a weirdly specific thing to say to try to intimidate me, you know? And it wasn’t even a threat! She just said I look like my mom, but there is no way in hell Ivy knew my mom.” 

Jason shrugs. 

“We’re talking about someone who tries to take over Gotham via plants. She’s not exactly the definition of normal.” 

You chuckle. 

“Yeah, you’re right. It was just weird.” 

Jason nudges your shoulder. 

“She was just trying to get under your skin. Don’t let her get to you.” 

And you really tried not to. You tried to shove the thought down and ignore but it kept coming back. They’re lying to you. What if they were? That would be ridiculous, right? Your mom raised you! If anyone, Tony Stark being your dad would be the lie! 

And your mom is dead. This is a closed deal. 

Or it should be. 

Yet, here you are, three days later, sitting in front of the computer in the Batcave, running a DNA test. You chew your thumbnail, waiting for Bruce to come downstairs and tell you you’re being ridiculous because you were! This whole paranoia is based on the words of a criminal! Why are you even entertaining this thought? 

You would leave. You should leave, but you just need to see your mom’s picture pop up on the screen with the words genetic match then you’ll be fine again. This stupid paranoia will go away and life will continue. 

It must be stress. That’s the only reasonable explanation as to why you’re even entertaining this idea because any rational person would not trust the word of a criminal--

The computer beeps. The test is done. Your heart drops. 

You don’t know why your heart drops because you know what’s going to be on the screen when you click view results. It’ll be your file, your dad’s file, and your mom’s file. There won’t be anyone else because you’re not being lied to because that would be ridiculous.  

You click view results. On the right side of the screen is your file. On the left side of the screen is your dad’s file and a file belonging to Dr. Harleen Frances Quinzel. 

Harley Quinn. 

That’s not your mom. You feel your stomach drop and your face drain of all color as you stare at the screen in shock. It must be wrong. The test screwed up. Your mother is not Harley Quinn. 

You scramble to set up a new test with shaking hands when a voice startles you. 

“The test isn’t wrong,” Bruce says. 

You whip around and stare at him wide-eyed. 

“Excuse me?” You demand in a dangerously low voice. 

“The test isn’t wrong,” He repeats. 

Your face hardens. 

“What do you mean the test isn’t wrong?” You growl, standing up. “Because if the test isn’t wrong then that means one thing,” You point at the screen. “You’ve been fucking lying to me.” 

"Y/N--" Bruce begins but you interrupt him sharply. 

"Don't start with me! How long have you known?" 

He stares at you for a long minute then sighs. 

"Since before we met." 

You huff and cross your arms. 

"So, when Jason brought me around, you already knew who I was?" 

"Yes." 

“Must’ve been a real “oh shit” moment for you,” You hiss. “Your back from the dead son was now dating the daughter of one of Gotham’s most notorious criminals!” 

“No, it was never about that.” 

"So why didn’t you tell me?!" You demand, gesturing to the screen. "What, did you think I didn't deserve to know who my actual mother was? Did you think that I would be compromised?! That my judgment would be clouded?! Or did you think I would end up like her?!” 

"No! God, no--," Bruce rubs his face, trying to explain himself. 

"Then why?! Why did you lie to me?!" Your eyes filled with tears. "You were at my mother's funeral. You were there when I was taking her to treatment. Why did you lie to me?” 

“It’s complicated--” 

“That’s a bullshit answer,” You snarl. 

Bruce sighs. 

“Y/N, it wasn’t my knowledge to tell you.” 

He’s right. Despite the odd relationship you have with your boyfriend’s adopted father, it isn’t his place to tell you who your biological mother is. 

“You’re right,” You agree, calmly snapping your thrusters on. “It wasn’t,” Then you turn, walking toward the door, but Bruce catches your arm. 

“Where are you going?” He demands. 

“You’re the world’s greatest detective,” You hiss, snatching your arm from his grip. “Figure it out,” Then you storm out the door. 

                                                         . . . 

“Y/N!” Your dad greets in surprise as he opens the door. “I didn’t know you were stopping by!” 

“We need to talk,” You tell him shortly then walk down the front steps of his porch. 

“Okay,” Tony frowns but follows you. “What’s up?” He asks. 

“You lied to me,” You begin, crossing your arms. 

He tucks his hands into his pockets. 

“About what?” 

You roll your eyes. 

“Oh, nothing big,” You remark sarcastically. “Just the fact that Harley Quinn is my birth mother.” 

Tony’s shoulders slump. 

“Oh…” He begins dumbly. “You found out.” 

“Yeah, I found out!” You throw your hands up. “Bet you didn’t plan on that happening, did you?!” You hiss. “So, where should we start? Maybe about why you lied about who my mother is or how I had to find out from fucking Poison Ivy?!” 

“Y/N, you can’t trust--” 

“Already took a DNA test. At the Batcave. You done lying yet?” 

Tony sighs, rubbing his face. 

“I’m sorry,” He begins. “I’m sorry I lied to you, especially about something this big.” 

“Were you ever planning on telling me?” You ask. 

Tony stays quiet, staring at the ground. 

“You weren’t, were you?!” 

“No!” He insists. “I was! I was going to. I kept telling myself I needed to, especially after your mom died… But I didn’t know how to.” 

“Didn’t know how to,” You nod along, fuming. “So, if you didn’t know how you were going to tell me the truth, why did you lie to me in the first place?” 

“Because…” Tony sighs, running his hand through his hair. “Because I had a kid with Harley Quinn! And she’s not exactly mom material! The last thing I needed was to make a kid that was somehow more fucked up than I was.” 

“So, lying about who my mother is for my whole life seemed like the best option for my own mental stability?” You narrow your eyes. “Did that really help you sleep better at night?!” 

“No! I knew I should’ve told you, especially after your mom died and I’m sorry this is how you found out, but I…” He trails off. 

“You’re still not answering my question,” You growl. 

Tony sighs again. 

“I lied, we lied because we needed to protect you.” 

“We?” You raise your eyebrows. “As in you and my mom or as in you and Harley Quinn…?” 

“All three of us. When Harley found out she was pregnant, she came to me scared out of her mind. I’m sure you’re well-acquainted with The Joker since you protect Gotham, so you can imagine what kind of reaction he’d have if he found out his girlfriend cheated on him and had a kid.” 

You stay silent, but he takes that as his sign to continue. 

“Harley knew she couldn’t raise you and God knew I definitely couldn’t so we started screening people to raise you and found your mom.” 

“Unbelievable,” You scoff. 

“Y/N, I’m sorry we didn’t tell you--” 

“You told me you weren’t going to lie to me,” Your eyes fill with tears. “You promised to always tell me the truth.” 

“I know I did, and I’m sorry,” Tony pleads. “This was just so… You watched your mom die for a long time, but after she passed, it was like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders and I didn’t want to take that away from you.” 

You shake your head. 

“That wasn’t your decision. I had a right to know,” Then you start walking away. 

“Wait, Y/N,” Tony calls after you. “Please, I’m sorry! Where are you going?” 

“I need space,” You growl, then take off, flying back to Gotham. 

                                                         . . . 

Jason finds you perched on the tallest building in Gotham, staring over the edge. 

“Hey,” He sits down next to you, taking his helmet off. 

You didn’t even bother to wear yours since it’s still broken from your fight with Ivy.  

“He wasn’t even going to tell me,” You mutter to Jason then shake your head. “He wasn’t even going to fucking tell me.” 

“Well, it’s not something you can exactly bring up over lunch,” Jason points out. 

“Yeah, well he should’ve thought of that before he decided to lie to me about my mother,” You snap. 

“Your mom is Harley Quinn who is constantly racking it up with Joker. You didn’t need that chaos in your life.” 

“Why are you siding with him?” You demand, growing irritated with your boyfriend. 

“Because it makes sense why he didn’t tell you,” Jason stares you back down. “Yeah it’s fucked up that he lied for as long as he did and that you had to find out from Poison Ivy, but if Joker knew about you, he would’ve killed you.” 

“I can handle myself,” You growl. 

“Yeah, now. You really think Joker would’ve waited until you were a trained vigilante?”

Your shoulders slump, all fight draining out of you. 

“Jason, my mom is Harley Quinn. Can you believe that? Harley Quinn!” 

He chuckles, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulls you close. 

“Your life has never traveled the simple route for anything.” 

“Ain’t that the truth,” You mutter. “What the hell am I going to do?” 

“You don’t have to do anything.” 

“Yeah, I kind of do. My mom is Harley Quinn.” 

“So? She didn’t raise you, she didn’t take care of you, and love you. Harley is not your mom. Your mom is still your mom and no amount of DNA or blood tests is going to change that. Blood doesn’t make you family.” 

“I feel like I have to do something.” 

“Do you want to do something?” 

“I don’t know! Maybe?” You trail off, staring at your legs for a moment. “I’m scared.” 

“Of Joker?” Jason asks. 

“No, that clown can go to hell,” You grumble, making Jason chuckle. “I’m scared I’m going to end up like her.” 

“Oh, God!” Jason sarcastically remarks, pulling back from you and pretending to take your temperature. “Maybe you are going crazy!” 

“Jason, I’m serious!” You insist. “What if I’m more psychologically prone to…” 

“Insanity?” Jason asks with a quirk of his eyebrow.

“Yeah! I have the genetics!” You weakly argue. 

“Well, you are dating me so maybe you are a little crazy.” 

“Jason.” 

He turns to you and cradles your face with both his hands. 

“You’re not going to end up like Harley,” He promises. “Okay?” 

“You don’t know that,” You argue.

“Yes, I do because you care way too much about others to end up like Harley. You are your own person. You are you.” 

“What if it’s not enough?” 

“It is. Trust me, okay?” 

“Okay,” You quietly repeat back. 

“You’re still you,” He promises. “You’re still the girl I fell in love with.” 

You smile.

“Thanks, Jay.” 

He kisses you softly then you shift, leaning on his shoulder, his arm around your waist as you stare down at Gotham. 

Jason’s right. You haven’t changed, but there’s one last conversation that needs to happen before you feel content again. 

                                                         . . . 

You sit on a roof, suited up in your body armor, minus the helmet. It’s not like Harley doesn’t know who you are. Jason watches from another roof, far away enough to give you privacy, but close enough to intervene if things go sideways. 

“I’m sorry this is the way we’re finally meetin’,” A familiar drawl begins from behind you.

You turn to see Harley Quinn tentatively emerging from the shadows with a guilty look. 

“I’ve always wanted to meet you…” She trails off, shly playing with her fingers. “You’re so beautiful.” 

You smile at the compliment and gesture to the ledge next to you.

“Ivy said I look a lot like you.” 

Harley sits down next to you, smiling at you for a moment then averts her eyes. 

“I’ve always watched you and kept an eye on you. You’re so smart, like your daddy.” 

“Ah come on, we both know all of that didn’t come from him,” You joke, trying to ease the tension. 

Harley giggles. 

“He’s a bit of a mess, ain’t he? But I guess I can’t really say much either.” 

“Have you met my boyfriend? None of us are really batting a thousand when it comes to mental stability.” 

“He sure is handsome though,” Harley smiles. 

“Yeah, he is,” You smile at the thought of Jason, knowing he’s keeping a protective eye over you. “He makes me happy.” 

“And he treats you right?” Harley asks, looking slightly apprehensive.

“Yeah, he does,” You nod. 

“Good. I don’t want you to end up in the situation I’m in…” She looks down with a sigh. “I’m sorry I’m not a mama you can be proud of.” 

You frown, unsure of what to say. Harley’s right. You fight crime. You stand for justice. You arrest criminals, people who hurt others… People like Harley. She’s not a mom you are proud of, but some things can never be easy. 

“Were you okay with giving me up?” You finally asks. 

“Not at first,” Harley sighs. “But I knew Mista J wouldn’t like it and I didn’t want anything to happen to you. Between me and your daddy, we were both paintin’ a pretty big target on your back.” 

“Yeah… That’s what dad said…” You trail off. “Why didn’t you just leave the Joker?” 

Harley frowns, staring into Gotham. 

“It’s complicated,” She admits. “I know I should leave him, but somethin’ always brings me back to him.” 

You suppose the Joker is responsible for Harley becoming who she is so it kind of makes sense, but… 

“Not even me being born could change your mind?” 

Her shoulders slump. 

“Pumpkin, you didn’t need me to raise you. I wouldn’t have been a good mama.” 

“You never even let yourself find out if you would be,” You point out softly. 

Harley smiles, tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. 

“It doesn’t matter anymore. Besides, your mama took very good care of you. I’m sorry she passed.” 

“Thanks,” You say quietly to your lap, her death stinging a little more than usual in the moment. 

“Y/N, no matter the circumstances, just know your daddy and I care about you very much.

You smile, looking down at your lap. You’re not sure where to go from here because Harley is right. The two of you are very different. Your lives have taken both of you nearly opposite directions. How do you two proceed?

“I know this is a big adjustment,” Harley begins. “But I want you to know that you control how our relationship will proceed, even if this means this is the last time we talk to each other.” 

Harley isn’t your true mother and she seems to know that. Your true mother died and like Jason said, no amount of DNA or blood is going to take that title away from her. She raised you, loved you, and formed you into the person you are today. 

It would be so easy to pretend Harley wasn’t your mother and never speak to her again. It would be so easy to pretend everything was as it was and allow your relationship with Harley to be black and white again. She’s a bad guy. You’re not. 

But it doesn’t feel right. 

“It’s a lot,” You finally admit. “And I’m still processing.” 

You don’t miss the way Harley’s face falls. 

“But I don’t think I want this to be the last time we speak.” 

Her face lights up. 

“We move at your command,” She promises. 

“Okay…” You agree, slowly standing up. “Thanks… for talking with me.” 

“Thank you for lettin’ me,” Harley smiles. 

You smile back, then fly to the building Jason is watching from. 

“How did it go?” He asks, pulling off his own helmet. 

“It went well,” You walk forward, wrapping your arms around him. 

He hugs you back, wrapping his arms around you tightly.  

“It was weird,” You admit. “But it wasn’t bad.” 

He chuckles then kisses you. 

“Yeah, well finding out your mom is Harley Quinn when your dad is already Tony Stark is kind of weird.” 

“Yeah,” You snort. “The billionaire and the basketcase. Who would’ve known?” 

Hope you enjoyed! I’ve got a request for Damian to do next, so keep an eye out! 

[whump-town]

Shattered Hearts, Fractured Lungs

(Chapter Two; Warnings for: school shooting, violence, language, and heart failure; you can find the first chapter here)

Emily Prentiss just wants to do her job but a messy case sends her sprawling into the arms of a dying man with a toddler and his weird, broken family.

“It’s been very rare to have known you, very strange and wonderful” --F. Scott Fitzgerald

She comes back the very next day.

It’s about noon and she’d seen the blonde one-- the happy one, uhm… Penelope! Emily had watched Penelope pull up in the driveway at about eleven thirty. So, she knows someone’s home over there but when she steps out on her porch she’s not expecting him to be sitting in that rickety old rocking chair. 

Idiot-- because she’d seen, from her kitchen window, Penelope helping him outside. The woman was talking his poor ear off.

The icing on the cake, of course, is that she was creating a dialogue for what to say when she got over there. 

Out loud.

So, he definitely heard her talking to herself like a crazy person. 

“Hey,” she says lamely, stopping in her tracks. Now she’s in a really bad spot. He looks like he didn’t sleep last night and definitely not in a talking mood with the oxygen mask over his face. 

Of course, she can’t really know that he didn’t sleep last night. Spent the whole night breathlessly fighting with Dave over his own health and how he was feeling. Of course, like shit is the truth but he’s fighting the clock and he doesn’t want to go to the hospital over a little labored breathing. Now he’s paying the price. He couldn’t even stand on his own this morning. He’d laid in bed until Garcia got here and been forced to ask her to help.

Life is slowly becoming unbearable. 

“I need...” she blows out an unsteady breath. She has to clench her hands to stop them from trembling.  “Do you have any bananas?”

Idiot. 

Stupid fucking idiot.

But he nods. It takes him a moment but he reaches up and pulls the mask off his face, pinning it against his chest. “Just go…” he curses himself, mentally for his inability to do something as simple as breathing. Why should heart failure come with not only a permanent ache in his chest but also the double hit to the lungs? Anatomy is so stupid.

“Ask Pen,” he rasps, gesturing with a head tilt that he means for her to go inside. “She’ll get you one.” He knows there’s bananas in there because Garcia always brings him some from the store. He used to eat one every morning with his coffee. Now he can’t even stomach the thought. 

Insult to injury is the awkward silence that passes between them as Emily steps into his house. 

She comes out a moment later, Penelope trailing her. She shows him the bananas from last week. They’re pretty brown but she’s smiling. “Actually,” Emily says, stepping out and smiling between Garcia and Hotch, “the recipes Derek’s mom’s. She, uh, sent it my way to keep me from getting bored.”

Garcia nods and Hotch rolls his eyes fondly. He’d spent the last half an hour listening to Garcia go on and on about Emily’s sexy little partner Derek Morgan. And, as insufferable as it had been, he had seen the signals the two of them were sharing. The good thing is that he was visibly not the only person unsettled by Garcia and Morgan’s flirting.

Reid really hated it. 

“She’s making banana bread,” Garcia tells Hotch, bumping her hip against him. 

Emily blushes, “yeah but…” She twists her shoe uncomfortably in the dirt. “I’m not that great of a baker.”

Garcia shakes her head, “don’t be so hard on yourself! I’m sure it’ll be great.” She grins, “besides if you need any help Hotch and I are more than willing to be unbiased judges or helpers.”

Emily could laugh at the face Hotch makes. He most certainly does not want that. She shakes her head, “I’m gonna go throw these in. If they’re good, I’ll send you a piece?”

Garcia nods and they watch in silence as Emily goes back to the house. 

The banana bread must not turn out so great because she never brings a piece over but the next day she knocks on his door with a plate of pancakes. 

He’s in a sweatshirt-- Georgetown’s logo slapped on the front and worn with age-- and a pair of grey sweats that make her cheeks flush a little. Nice, idiot, she thinks as she explains she used the leftover bananas to make pancakes and wondered if he’d like some. Mercifully, he either ignores or doesn’t see her making intense eye contact with the floor so she doesn’t look anywhere near his hips. 

After that, they form a strange pattern of her showing up with various baked goods or other types of gifts and such. 

Otherwise, they’d both sit in their homes all alone with nothing but the silence. Or, rather, he’d have the silence because she is very loud. He likes to sit on the porch and listen to her blasting music through her house. Occasionally, he knows a song but mostly he just likes the way the rest of the neighborhood scowls at their houses. 

It’s about nine in the morning when Hotch hears the knocking at his door. For a solid moment, he considers not even answering the door. There’s about a ninety percent chance whoever it is he doesn’t want to talk to. The number of people who have sent cards, and food, and made weird phone calls is numerous. So, if they don’t have the key to his front door or the familiarity to just come busting in-- it’s not worth his time.

Besides, he’s feeling grumpy and he’d like to just wallow for a moment… in peace, alone. 

But then the door does bust open. 

He’s trying to read the paperwork either the hospital or the school sent-- obviously, he hasn’t gotten very far into it if he can’t even tell what the papers are for. All that he knows is there are vibrantly colored sticky notes where his signature should be. But he isn’t just going to go singing his name willy-nilly. He’s not that far gone. 

He looks up and Emily Prentiss is blindly-- her hands are over her eyes for some reason-- trampling through his living room.

“Can I help you?”

At the sound of his voice, her head jerks up. Two paired fingers separate and she looks just like one of his students as she lowers her hands and grins at him. It’s an awkward little grin but it’s not bad. “Uh,” she motions behind her to the door. “Sorry about that… Dave, he, uh, he told me that you’d be home all day and you are home all day and if I needed anything to just--” she grimaces as if she’s just considered how strange this is. “You didn’t answer and Dave said you always answer and you do and I didn’t want something to be wrong…”

She stops talking. 

Mercifully.

Hotch grunts, “I do, normally.” 

Somehow, the only good thing to come out of the last month is that Hotch gets to spend his days at home. Besides the drastic rise in homeschoolers in their town, the school had been gracious enough to handle his disability checks. Of course, everyone had smiled and thanked him for what he’d done to save his kids but Hotch is still very aware of the lawsuits and trouble David Rossi would cause if everything hadn’t gone smoothly. 

Being the semi-famous author of a very successful line of children’s books earns Dave that power. Although, Hotch has seen him use it for good and for… well, mostly sex. 

The downside is he gets pretty lonely at the house.  

Jack goes to his aunts. Haley’s sister Jessica has been a huge help over the last few weeks. Reeling from the loss of her sister, she’d been more than happy to keep her only family close. Even if it’s just her ex-brother-in-law and nephew. Not that Aaron and Jessica’s relationship was severed just because of Haley and Aaron’s divorce. 

It had been painful but not ugly. It had never been about the devotion they felt for one another or even the love.

Life just gets complicated. 

A few teachers had still managed to get some more leave time and with Hotch’s heart actively failing, Reid, Garcia, and Rossi are on the receiving end of lots of understanding when it comes to asking for time off. They have a schedule set into place now: Garcia brings him lunch, Reid picks up Jack, and Dave brings stuff to make dinner for all of them. 

It’s simple but affected. Daily and boring.

“Now this is going to make me sound like a dumbass--” 

He’s known Emily Prentiss for all of week. He excludes the school thing from memory and the timeline. It’s better for his mental health-- which isn’t doing much better than his physical health if he’s being honest. The problem is, the woman is kind of crazy. It’s in an endearing kind of way but still. 

Now he’s sitting in her living room. She’d come barging into his house just thirty minutes before, a hand over her eyes. He’d had to listen to her awful explanation for that while slowly and painfully making his way across the whole five feet separating their houses. The hand over her eyes had been in case he was naked because she may invade his personal space but she really doesn’t want to see his junk. 

He’s not entirely sure where this comfort of hers is coming from. All he does know is that Dave has swindled his way into every aspect of Hotch’s life and now Hotch has his neighbor’s phone number. It’s for “emergencies”, of course. In case Hotch, God forbid, needs help and his only contact is his batshit neighbor.

“I mean it, Aaron,” she’s standing right in front of him with two spices in her hands. “It’s really going to make me sound like a dumbass here but what exactly is the difference between Cinnamon and Nutmeg?”

God, she’s crazy but she’s funny and hasn’t passed any judgement on his inability to get dressed. Just like now while she’s standing in a simple, well-loved tanktop and work jeans and he sits in his flannel pajama bottoms and a Hanes t-shirt that’s seen better days five years ago. 

But they kind of passed lots of mile markers for judgment a long time ago. As in, last week. 

He’d watched in silence as she emptied the contents of her stomach over the railing of his porch and she’d put pressure on the bullet wound that tore through his side. It’s why it was so easy for her to, after that night on the porch, to bring over a plate of pancakes and offer to grab him stuff from the store. Of course, he’d told her he was good and he, mostly, was.

Which is in direct consequence for why he’s here now. 

“Nutmeg tastes like Christmas,” he explains because he has no idea how he’s supposed to explain this to a grown woman. “What are you making?” He’s suddenly very worried for whatever dish she’s making. Especially if she put nutmeg where cinnamon is supposed to be. It’s freaking September and, if he’s being honest, he really hates Christmas. That might make him too biased to figure out if she’s really messed up though.

She grimaces at the containers in her hand. She pulls her lip into her mouth and mumbles, “apple pie.”

His grimace is too much and if she weren’t so bummed with the aspect that her apple pie is most definitely ruined she might laugh. His accent is thick enough for her to comfortably assume he’s from the south not to mention he’s got a lot of that southern gentlemen charm. 

“How much nutmeg did you use?”

Her face says it all.

He places both his fist on the sides of the chair and forces himself onto his feet. If Emily weren’t standing in silent horror that he might fall over or pass out or a hundred other things she might lend a hand. Then again, they haven’t established those boundaries and she can’t flawlessly just know like Dave does. 

“Let me see the damage,” he grumbles but she can see that he’s not actually mad; he's just wary of what she’s done. He’s strange in that way. For a man who has made a career around working with children, he’s got a horrible resting face. 

She lets him set the place, pointing him in the direction of the kitchen. It’s only a few feet but they make it two-steps before she decides she can’t do this silently watching thing. “Do you--” she offers him her forearm, the same way she’d seen Dave do the other afternoon. 

He scowls at her arm but after a moment, he takes her hand. His skin is startlingly cold and his hand trembles until he settles his grip. It’s surprisingly easy and she doesn’t think much of it. At least he’s not dead weight to lug around. She’s had plenty of people hang onto her, she doesn’t even mind this. 

“I think I might have used too much nutmeg,” she concludes before he can see the damage and rule her incompetant. It’s a warning.

He glances at her out of the corner of his eye… too late for the incompetant thing, she decides. He already thinks she’s a moron.

Rightfully so but still…

She’d known he was tall. It’s not that hard to see but as she’s standing beside him, his body pulled in and hunched over, he’s still towering over quite a bit. He’s a big man and he smells nice so he’s got a lot going for him. Too bad about the heart thing because he’s kinda cute.

“That’s all…” she moves him to the kitchen table and brings the pie to him. She really doesn’t want him falling in her kitchen. Dave likes her and she’d like to keep it that way. Besides, there would be so many awful and weird questions to answer if she had to take him to the hospital. 

And now he’s sitting in horror at this pie in front of him.

“That’s all…” he repeats himself, shaking his head in disbelief. The pie is covered in a brown powder and he’s slowly processing that it’s all nutmeg.

She grimaces and nods.

He looks up at her, mouth open but disbelief making it impossible for him to say anything. He’s seen a lot of weird things. Preschoolers are… they’re a piece of work but this is testing every bit of training he has. 

“It’s bad, isn’t it?”

He nods, “definitely.” 

Huffing in a way that he recognizes from dealing with one too many headstrong four-year-olds, she places her fist on her hips. She scowls down at the pie. It’s cooked and it smells okay but if she’s been too generous with the nutmeg there’s no way that’s going to taste good. After a moment she hums and turns around, pulling out two forks she comes right back to the table. 

“Well,” she says with a tilt of her head, “christmas apples can’t be that bad, right?”

He takes the fork being offered to him with no interest whatsoever in eating this pie but it's kind of funny and he’s having a good time. Together they break the baked dough and get a bite- sized piece. He’s fairly adamant but somehow it’s got nothing to do with his tricky stomach or the fact that he hasn’t been able to keep down much besides water and saltine crackers. It’s going to taste like shit and it’s exciting.

Emily chokes on her bite coughing and grimacing as she rushes to spit it out. To his credit, Hotch swallows his bite. “That was honestly the worst apple pie I’ve ever tasted,” he tells her, honestly. 

She laughs and that feels so good. She hasn’t laughed in a long time. 

He shrugs, “I’m not gonna lie to you.”

She tosses her fork on the table and shakes her head at the pie. So much for that.

“How exactly--” he bites down on the wave of pain that rocks through his body as he forces his legs underneath him. He stands, trembling and waving slightly with the effort it takes. “Why were you making apple pie so early in the day?”

Emily is still frowning at the pie so she doesn’t even look up at him. “Bored,” she mumbles. She’s upset about her pie. Damn… this whole nutmeg vs cinnamon thing is stupid. They look exactly the same so they should taste the same, right?

“Maybe you should try something else,” Hotch says, one hand still keeping his balance on the table. “Baking just doesn’t…”

Emily frowns at him, “I like baking, though!”

Hotch looks away, tilting his head and raising an eyebrow. “Baking doesn’t like you,” he mumbles. 

She smacks his shoulder and he chuckles-- this isn’t the first failed attempt of her’s he’s tried. There was the cookies from Monday (that were burnt on the bottom and raw on top) and the banana bread he’d only seen but-- they could have killed a lesser man let alone him and his broken heart. 

“Maybe I can try cooking,” she proposes. 

He shakes his head, “are you gonna make me eat that too?”

She clicks her tongue, faking offense. “What, are you afraid?”

He smiles and it takes her breath away. He’s got high, sharp cheekbones and when he’s not carrying so much tension in his shoulders it’s so much easier to appreciate just how soft his dark hair looks. Her neighbor is hot. She’s not sure if he knows that though.

“A little,” he admits playfully, “but maybe you’ll be better at cooking than you are baking.”

She crosses her arms and scowls down at her pie. “I don’t think it’s going to take a lot to be better at cooking than baking.” 

He makes a soft sound, “you said it, not me.”

She shakes her head at him but there he is smiling again. She can’t even be mad. “Maybe I’ll make dinner,” she proposes, tucking her hands under her armpits as she thinks. “Are you interested?”

Honestly, no but he doesn’t want to pass up on hanging out with her. So he nods. 

“Six o’clock should be enough time to cook something, right?”

Jesus, she’s going to kill him. 

“Why don’t I come over and help?”

Oh, she hadn’t thought of that. She nods, “okay. You wanna come over at three, then?”

It’s dangerous, without a shred of doubt there, but his heart does this little flutter. “Uh,” he has to clear his throat. “Yeah, sounds like a plan.”

Except three rolls around he’s a no show. Three turns into three-thirty and she’s not trying to be a buzzkill but the recipe calls for caramelized onions and she has no idea what that means but she hopes it doesn’t mean what she thinks it does. Carmel on onions? Sounds disgusting.

“Knock, knock?” She’s already barged into his house once today so it really shouldn’t be that big of a deal but something doesn’t feel right. She can’t shake it and she certainly can’t just… leave. “Hotch?” God, she hopes he’s just in the bathroom.

He isn’t.

“You okay?” she falls to her knees beside him. She’d never been this far into his house. Mostly, she’d never passed the living room but now she’s kneeling in his hallway and can see his bedroom from here. As much as she’d like to evaluate that-- because the space is strangely neat and God, who knew the bare minimum of a clean room was such a perfect green flag--

Right--

He shakes his head. 

Oh.

“Should…” she knows he hates the hospital, who doesn’t? But… he’s gasping for breath on the floor, his pale hand clutching at his chest. The sight is very overwhelming and hurting her deeply because it’s bringing feelings back that she thought were getting better. “Do I need to call--”

To the school and to the blood pooling between their bodies. 

He nods. He’s terrified but just seeing Emily brings some strange comfort. Her and her awful cooking might just get him through this. He won’t die on this floor. Not on this ugly ass rug Dave made him put down. 

The ambulance comes, bounding the sirens shrill sound up and down the block. Making a spectacle out of an awful experience. 

He winces when the IV goes in and she just stands, bouncing from foot-to-foot awkwardly watching. It’s not until he’s on the gurney, fighting the drugs rushing through his system. “You can come,” he rasps but no one can hear him clearly from behind the masks. Reaching up to pull it away, several hands swat his hand away and he makes a grunted, annoyed sound at hte back fo his throat.

An EMT leans over and calms him back down before Hotch starts trying to fight his way back up into danger. “Easy, buddy.” The EMT pushes on Hotch’s shoulders and it's not a lot of force but Hotch isn’t strong enough to fight it. “The pretty lady can come, okay? Just settle down.”

She stays with him and tells herself it’s because she doesn’t want him hurting himself but she really doesn’t want to leave his side until she knows he’s going to be okay. There’s no hand holding because they’re still at the point where they smack shoulders and stand feet apart but they’ve only known one another for a week and-- Emily can’t fathom what she’s supposed to do if he dies in the back of this shitty ambulance. 

“Can you--” the EMTs give him something that nearly knocks him out on the spot but his breathing gets better and he stops gasping and wheezing. He just lays supine on the gurney. Limp. “Dave?” He can’t keep his eyes open but he hears Emily make what he thinks are words of confirmation but his sentence didn't exactly make sense so maybe she didn't understand him.

He’s pulled under by the warmth spreading through his limbs before he can repeat himself or worry with it.

“You can’t go back there, baby.”

Emily blinks and there’s an older woman stopping Emily’s zombie-like march beside the gurney as they rush Hotch off to the side. She can’t tear her eyes off of him. Watching numbly as they cut his shirt down the middle and start to attach to electrodes to his alarmingly pale chest. 

Her hands are trembling as she pulls her phone out of her pocket. “Dave?” she’s breathless with the anxiety swelling in her own chest. “I’m so sorry--” and she’s crying. Why? He’s not her friend? He’s her neighbor who she’s known for a whole freaking week and yet-- And she can’t deal with Dave being mad either. But he isn’t. 

The minute he steps into the hospital, he comes right up to and pulls her into a hug. She sobs into his arms and he lets her because he’s seen Aaron this bad before. He knows it’s unnerving. 

“Do you have any news?” Dave asks her and she shakes her head. He squeezes her arm and smiles at her tear-stained face. “I’ll be right back, okay? They know my face, I might be able to wrangle some news out of one of the nurses.”

She nods her head and watches dejectedly as he walks away. 

Aaron had told her that Rossi had slept with many nurses while he was in the hospital. She’s thinking about the way he’d smiled when he told her that when she falls into the waiting rooms stiff chairs.

[goddess-ofthe-underworld]

This post has nothing to do with what I normally post, however is why I haven't been posting. You dont have to read it. This is just my place to vent and the closest I can get to screaming into oblivion I suppose..

My husband and I moved all the way from mid Wisconsin to the bottom of Texas and are staying with my in laws, husbands mother and step father. Since we have been here, my FIL has shown that he is very much the 'if you odnt do things my way, its wrong', 'well I have ms and can do this so you can to or you aren't trying', 'holier than thou' type.

Now for background incase anyone is actually reading this, I have been diagnosed with depression, major anxiety, ADHD, borderline personality disorder, and am going to be tested to see if I am on the autism spectrum. I have suffered horribly over the years with all of these disorders, been in therapy for 8 years, and on the correct/best so far med combination for about 8months which now has been messed wit again because I cant afford my adhd prescription. So my daily life is fucking hard. I have worked very hard to deal with my anger, to be able to pull logic up faster than I have in the past, to be able to push my emotions to the side and to think about things logically and not just with my emotions or in black and white. I have spent years working on taming the rage in me.

My father in law destroyed all of that progress in 30 minutes.

Our car became unsafe so we had to get a new one. My MIL helped us with that and we thanked her very much for that! She set us up with the dealership, she got us a deal on it and we have thanked her multiple times for that. Now, just after simply talking to the man, not even signing papers, my father in law stayed behind and made the man doubt that we could afford it to the point where the man had asked us no less than ten times if we really could afford it or not because of my FIL. When he got back from making the salesman doubt us, he began to raise his voice at us saying how we needed to be straight forward with him about our finances, how we need to do this and that and I started to shut down. I knew what was coming. He turned to me and started going on about how i could work for my new aunt, when i had told him no five times already,my MIL told him she will not let me do that because my new aunt is a mess and she doesn't want me in that position. Now mind you before we moved here, we made it known to them that I havent worked or drove in four years due to all of my mental illness and a bad car accident I got into. They knew that the only way we'd come is if they were ok with that and could be understanding and not judging of it. So I said to him no I will not work for her. I've told you no already no means no. She he smiles and glares at me and said oh yeah? Why not? Yet again I start explaining my mental health, and he cuts me off and ✨yells✨ at me that if it's so bad I need to get on disability for it or get a fucking job already. I was shaking with anger, I wanted to scream, I wanted to throw things at him, I wanted to choke him. I was in a rage. I was able to control myself enough to where all I did was yell at him that I had an appointment in a few days to talk to my doctor about just that, but that it's none of his business and I walked away. My MIL yelled at him, it was a mess.

Since then, our car salesman had told us to take them to dinner and hed count it as a downpayment payment so we did. I had one drink and my FIL told me I shouldn't drink with all of the medications I take. I take two at the moment because I cant afford the rest and I took them 7+ hours previous to this one drink I was having that i have done multiple times and i know it is safe for me to do so.

Again I stayed quiet, I pulled myself together and said, well that us why if I'm going to drink I make sure that I take my medication plenty early so that it wont interact. He rolled his eyes and said well as long as you dont get sloppy and start issues. Didnt know you drank.

Now I have had one single drink at dinner in front of him and my MIL multiple times now, so why he said that I have no idea.

The way this man has been acting has been explained to me that he words things wrong, he tries to joke and it comes out wrong. Excuses are constantly made for his behavior towards me. Now I happened to know that he was upset at an aunt of mine for getting wasted and talking poorly about him and he was taking his anger out on me. And again, that was the excuse made, oh it wasnt directed at you.

The other night, my husband and I sat down and had long conversation and decided we would go back to Wisconsin. We sat down with his mother and mid conversation my FIL came out and said he hoped it was going good and when we wanted hed say his piece, and my MIL said well no it's going good apparently. And he looked at me and said well we aren't forcing you to stay here.

That's when I first felt things coming undone inside of me. This had been brewing for about a month now. I was twisting and pulling on my fingers to try to keep myself grounded as I raised my voice and said, no I know, that's why we are leaving because of you. He smiled an evil smile and frowned at the time and told me not to blame him for my short comings in life, and began to go off. He said the person who does the least should say the least.

My husband put his arm in front of me and I felt more things inside me come undone and I snapped. I told him to shut up before I beat his ass. My MIL told me not to and told him to go away and let us talk. He continued to look at me with that twisted look on his face and continued to talk shit. I honest to Gods can't tell you what he said after that because I saw red. The room was spinning and I lunged for him and my husband had to hold me back. I screamed at him that he was a piece of shit and to shut up, that I was going to kick his ass. Everything I knew on how to control myself and my rage went out the window in less than 30 minutes. My MIL was yelling at him to leave as he backed away from me while my husband held me back. I continued screaming until he left the room and then i sobbed angry tears. I could not believe that my wonderful mother in law was married to a man like that.

I apologized to her and I told her that I meant what I said to him, but I am sorry to her for how I acted. She said she understood and wasnt mad at me. My husband and I left the house until my FIL left and now I am heading back to wisconsin by myself because my husband has things here in texas to take care of before he can come with me.

Aside from that, my father in law has said that we dont pay bills here when we pay 500 a month for rent, 80 to help with food which we had spent over this month already, and we help buy toiletries. But he says we dont pay bills, we dont help with food.

He has also lied to my mother in law and said he didnt know I have an issue with multiple noises because I will hyper focus to the point of getting a headache when I have told him once myself, my husband has told him once verbally, and most recently about a week ago maybe through text. But my father in law told my mother in law that he had no idea and my mother in law even read the texts my husband sent and believes my father in law is telling the truth.

We have no money to do this, we have a car payment coming up, I have no idea how we are going to make it, I feel like my marriage is going to suffer, I'm worried about what will be said while I am gone. My MIL thinks things can be fixed, and I dont know maybe in time but right now I dont see it, and I know my limits with my mental illness and I know what will happen if I stay.

I dont know how to find peace anymore. I dont know how to find happiness. My husband believes that that isnt how he meant for things to be, but I've had a new aunt of mine tell me she has had feelings very similar to this with my FIL and that that is why she stays away.

I dont know what to do.

If you've made it this far, please send blessings of positivity my way, please pray, whatever your thing is.

I am tired.

[thegremlincat]

Art thief and over all horrible person

yesterday was interesting

so.two days ago this guy called Dunkadev-Doomkadev writes me a message on tumblr saying something along the lines of 'Brah, your art is great, imma art trade or request you' I told him thats very kind, but I only do paid art. what followed was litterally unreadable nonsense, like...keysmashing so bad I was convinced the guy tried to directly google translate Cyrillic or something. after he spammed for 5 minutes he ended his...I guess rant(?) with the exact same message he opened the conversation with. so mildly baffled I tried to figure out what the hell was going on, because while I thought that he might be a extremely bizarre bot that would not send links, I still did not want to insult him just in case he as in fact not capable of writing in english or...something. anyway, after several attempts and warnings, which all resulted in the same pattern, I finally blocked him and called it quits

now, yesterday I mention this whole thing to a friend. she told me that sounded familliar to what another artist experienced on twitter, and it was so spot on that we started investigating. Lo and behold, that individual I ran into was NightFlightVersel. some of you might know of him, he is...oof. I will get to that. Anyway, we sleuth further and this guy has thousands of accounts, all filled to the brim with stolen art,videos, etc (he claims its reposted, never links back to the artist tho) all of dragons and similar creatures. among those pieces also some of my art. so of course I get a little spicy, but you cannot talk to the guy, because you cant understand him. This is, as some of you might thought, deliberate. he can type fine, he just uses it to annoy you and also I am pretty sure as an 'alibi' /fake mental health issues, in case he gets in legal trouble (I know he has a form of autism, apparently, that does not excuse his behavior tho) so all one can really do is block and report him, which does nothing because the guy just creates new accounts, like a disgusting roach.

That is...not all tho. a longer version of what I am to type out can be read here (older journal, but a cohesive gathering of links and his...movements over the past couple of years) Quick warning, things go south really quick, and deal with disturbing adult topics, so if you'd rather not read it, stop here.

https://www.deviantart.com/…/NightFlightVersel-Stay-Away-Fr…

soo in short, this guy is really unhinged. He is a Zoophile that gets off on pictures of dragons and creatures .while disturbing in my opinion...not something that is directly harmful, (except for my brain) as long as its just fantasy creatures, BUT. its not just that. He  said himself that he (allegedly) regularly sexually abuses his dog. Let that one sink in. I really really hope that was a sick joke. He also specifically targets young artists to rope into his weird art trade scheme (and of course never holds up to his end of the bargain) and asks them to draw porn for him. young as in...minors. he also made some really really creepy other moves on said minors. he uses his disability as a shield. he pops up every few years with the exact same behavior. he threatens to and actually leaks personal information of the people he does not like, including home addresses and phone numbers (doxxing), which makes him even more dangerous. He hacked at least one persons account to get more information before. He tries to blackmail people. He hangs around pages where there's mostly children and teenagers active...

I think you get the picture.

Now, police looked into him several times, but there is very little they can really do .I dont know why because doxxing is highly illegal as far as i know. Not sure about the dog situation, but again, maybe that was some messed up edgelord joke?

he is super slippery, but these are the accounts i could find he is currently using:

jardeemgramacho on instagram Dunkadev-Doomkadev on tumblr dunkadev (doomkadev) on behance dunkadev (doomkadev) on dailymotion dunkadev (doomkadev) on pinterest there are a lot more, but he gets banned/delets them and creates new accounts daily

we cant really do more than report and block him. so this is more of a PSA than anything really. very frustrating.

to anyone not wanting to read this entire thing: Some guy stole and posted some of my creature art.  He also apparently faps to said art, abuses his dog, and preys on minors online. He is slippery as hell and no one can do much about him other than report him.

I...I have no words. And I know this sounds made up but its sadly real. Also have to live with the knowledge that some dude gets off on my art, but I guess thats the smallest of issues here. I want this year over, please..