The people in the tags of that "come/cum" poll saying you can't use "come" as a noun because it's confusing...............read better.
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when people who hate any sort of fictional conflict define basic trope terms it's so funny. just saw someone trying to define whump with the absolute weirdest fucking wrong answer ever (it's a fetish and all amputee sex?????). god being a "freak" who likes seeing and writing characters be put in dangerous, emotionally damaging, and perilous situations (most stories) is so much more normal than whatever the fuck y'all got going on
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I'm weird and I always get a little thrown off when fanart has Ashley with massive mommy milkers because on one hand it is like canon and on the other how was she starving for three months after all of that she should be skin and bones
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im so lost rn, i have no one on my life actively telling me how stupid and horrible i am. I literally don't know what to do with myself when im not apologizing for my existence and begging for forgiveness every day.
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me: I want to fall asleep besides you every night for the rest of our lives
my boyfriend: I go to bed at 3 am
me: I want to see you at some point every day for the rest of our lives
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even 2 years ago people still said autism with a whisper. it was also how people sometimes whisper lesbian, like they're afraid of uttering a slur. autistic was either an insult or it was something terrible, a horrible burden only select people endure. "select people" were usually 9 year old boys and skinny white men.
they are not hispanic young adults with a dog and a life and friends. i can make (sustained, calculated, painful) eye contact. with certain people, i don't even have to count how many seconds i am holding their vision - i can just look at them. i can wear clothes that bother me, i will just have a worse day than usual. i might cry about any changes to my schedule - but change is scary! this is normal!
when i was 16 it was OCD. i mean that was the thing everyone said. i totally have ocd. they would arrange 6 colors of gel pen in rainbow order (no worry for indigo feeling left out) and they'd be "so ocd" about it.
if you struggle with intrusive thoughts, be careful at this next paragraph, but. at 16 i developed a compulsion that involved self-harm. my ocd was convinced i was simply forgetting that i'd hurt someone terribly - a thought that persisted for no clear or delineated reason.
at some point i will probably write about how the idea of "morally pure thoughts" was hell for me and others with ocd, but this was the odd dichotomy for many of us: they liked our "aesthetic", but were genuinely repulsed by our lived experience. "intrusive thoughts" now means "cutting your hair in the sink" instead of talking yourself down from believing horrible things. "so ocd" is a label without any true understanding.
it's something i've talked about before - in multiplicity - but i firmly believe in the veracity and necessity of self-diagnosis. i think it saves lives and it saves tragedies from occurring. as someone raised in a house that wasn't safe, self-diagnosis was, for many years, the only viable option. 15 and honestly googling: am i depressed or there demons affecting my behavior.
but it is not genuine self-diagnosis anymore, most of the time. it is a strange, blanched version of that whispered word autism. now certain traits are constantly seen as "autistic" - any passing intense interest. any flubbed social interaction. people say it while laughing - a touch of the 'tism.
and i like the acceptance! i do. i like that people are talking about it. i like that if i self-identify, more people speak up and say me too, bitch. but there is something-else quietly happening, the way it happened to OCD. the quirky, "fun" parts have been washed and sanitized and removed of all suffering. now it is just something that makes you "a little bit silly."
it took me 27 years on this planet before i learned to make friends. something about me just seems incredibly odd, i guess, some kind of radiation monitoring. someone once (in a way that was almost friendly) told me i am doing the right things, but in a way that's off-putting. i have scoured myself raw attempting to be charming.
someone on tiktok does a deep dive into their particular passion. the top comment says "what kind of autism is this lol". like we are a breed of animal. like it has no influence on our experience. like our life is a fresh breeze, an open meadow.
more often for me, life was a drowning.
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Imagining if I was this age during the Iraqi war and I had to watch losers on tumblr call the genocide that is actively happening at the hand of the us “foreign affairs that they can’t do anything about” and then I had to convince people to spare pocket change so my people could escape mass slaughter and then some chronically online tumblr user sent me an ask that was like “guilt tripping people into caring won’t get you far” as if caring for people who’re dying isn’t literally part of being alive and you shouldn’t be persuaded into it in the first place
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