#internalized ableism tw

[compassionatereminders]

i feel like a burden for having to rely on others because of my disabilities

But there's nothing wrong with relying on other people and no one, not even abled people, are as independent as we are told we should strive to be. And that's fine. We're herd animals and we're supposed to take care of each other! ❤️

[ashintheairlikesnow]

I know you have little time on your hands for writing atm but I might just sneak in here anyways to give input. Who knows maybe you have time some day :D

I remember you posting about this Au where Chris won‘t get saved and Branch throws him on the street when he‘s "too old" and Chris encounters Kauri and he brings him to Jake and it‘s much harder to recover from there on.

Can‘t stop thinking about it it made me so sad!

Maybe you can write a piece about them meeting this way sometime when you feel like it 👉👈🥺

CW: Aftermath of spice, some dubcon implications, brief internalized ableism, drug use

Kauri wakes in a pile of bodies, briefly content simply knowing that if anything is the opposite of being alone, it's this. He still aches in all the right places from last night, and stretches his arms above his head, arching his back. His eyes are closed.

Someone next to him mumbles and rolls over, rolls away. Mourning the loss of even one point of contact, Kauri sighs and sits up. His head hurts, but that's normal on a Sunday morning, especially when his Saturday nights had been so fun. Sober now, he knows it's time to dress and disappear into the daylight, off to find the next drink, the next pill, whatever will soothe the way even now, he feels hollow.

He makes it to the door before he realizes he isn't the only person awake this early.

A flash of blue is slipping out ahead of him, hunched over in clothes too big for his frame. The man's profile is oddly delicate, strikingly beautiful.

Kauri had a hazy knowledge of someone with blue hair the night before, his back against someone's shoulder, another man between his legs. Or had it been the other way around, had he been between some man's legs...? It's hard to remember details. Kauri had been between two men himself, never the same two men twice.

Man, last night was fun.

Still, yeah, he remembers the hair. And a vague recollection of a sweet smile and soft pleading. The way his hips had rolled riding someone, hands splayed out on a sweat-soaked chest, biting his lower lip with his eyes closed. Making noise like it was forced out of him, but it'd been... yeah.

It'd been a performance.

Kauri had figured he was probably a hooker called in for the fun, but... now he wonders.

Hookers don't stay overnight.

"Hey," He calls out, and hurries to catch him. "Hey, wait up." He grabs the man by his arm. "Wait-"

The man goes still. He's short, skinny, swimming in these clothes. His hair's dirty and dull with copper roots showing through. But he turns to look back, and his irises - at least what Kauri can see of them around the dilated pupils - are the brightest green that Kauri has ever seen.

He's also clearly still high. Or maybe high again.

He has pale freckles in a scatter across his cheeks and his nose. Kauri wonders if you could play connect-the-dots with them, make something, maybe just a constellation.

"... what?" The word leaves the man slowly, like he has to consciously think about it first. "They... they said I could... have more before I left. I... didn't steal." He hesitates. "Did I?"

There's a scar over one cheek, somebody cut him with a knife. Not too bad - just for show. Just to make the scar.

Kauri swallows, and puts on his brightest, friendliest smile. "No, no, you didn't. And even if you did, I wouldn't say anything to anybody. But, just. I didn't get to say much to you last night. We were busy, right?" He winks.

"No." The man's gaze never meets Kauri's own - it dances, shifts from looking past his left shoulder to somewhere over his head, down to the right. Eye contact comes in brief flickers, as if he can barely stand it. He smiles, but it isn't real. It's false and faint. "Busy... last night. Having fun."

"Yeah, uh, it was a good time."

The man hesitates. Then he turns away again, pulling himself free of Kauri's grip, rubbing at the place where Kauri's hand had been nervously. "Good," He murmurs, as if reminding himself. "A good time. I had... a good time. I w, wanted-... I wanted... this. Always..." He trails off.

Then he starts walking, as if he's forgotten Kauri was even there.

"Want this," He's muttering. He sways from side to side as he walks, then stops, then starts again. His hands rub constantly, compelled, against the seams of his jacket.

Kauri's intuition prickles like a physical touch to the back of his neck, the weight of a shock collar, and he moves fast to catch up. "Hey, uh, are you-... um... let me buy you some breakfast, yeah? I got, like, forty bucks to my name. That'll get us some food. You look like you could stand to eat more."

The man pauses, briefly, looking over in Kauri's general direction. His hands bury themselves into his pockets and he hunches himself so much he seems inches shorter than he really is. "... okay. You, um. Want, want-..." He winces. "Wait. Silence is better than stammering, silence is better than stammering," He whispers, a recitation, and Kauri swallows as his spine chills from the nape of his neck down to the small of his back, all at once.

He's heard that chant before.

"... you're one of us," Kauri says, and it isn't a question. As soon as the other man tenses, he has his wrist up, looking side to side to make sure they're alone before he snaps open the leather bracelet and shows his barcode.

The man goes very still. Green eyes wander over the sight, and then he pulls his sleeve up to show his own. "WRU, Facility 001, Romantic 223499."

It's irresistible. Kauri hears another pet give theirs, he has to give his, too. He can all but feel his handler breathing down his neck waiting for it. "Right. Facility 001, Romantic 645898. But, uh. I'm Kauri." He tries for his bright smile again, but the other man doesn't return it. "What's your name? What do people call you?"

The man swallows. Then, he offers quietly, "My Sir... called me Baldur."

[uncanny-tranny]

The frustrating thing about having good days with pain or bodily irritation or mobility or whatever else isn't that it's a "good day." It's the feeling that you are either greatly exaggerating your suffering or worse, that you're secretly wanting attention/admiration for your suffering. I think people sometimes are confused as to why good days in terms of disability can be distressing to some, but it is precisely that you almost... overthink the Implications of good days.

It isn't that you want to be suffering, it is that you are taught you will only be "worthy" of help if you are suffering in the Right way (and having any good days are often seen as a sign that you aren't "truly worthy").

[alicewritingstories]

Whumptober Prompt Fills Part 9: Breath

~Also on AO3~

No. 15: “I don’t need you to help me I can handle things myself.” | Makeshift Bandages | Suppressed Suffering | “I’m fine.”

No. 24: “I’ve got a head full of chemicals; mouth full of ridicule.” | Goodbye Note | Neglect | “I thought they were with you.”

No. 31: “I thought that I was getting better.” | Emptiness | Setbacks | “Take it easy.”

Warning: Brief mention of alcohol use, chronic cardiac and respiratory issues, internalized ableism

Central character(s): Sky, Twilight

As the stars were coming out and the last echoes of the Picori Festival's fireworks display were fading away, the Chain started to drift back together at their chosen campsite in the forest. Tomorrow they would travel on to visit Four's grandfather - Four had gone on ahead with his father to give him some time with his family before his other family descended on them - but tonight would be spent under the stars as usual.

The chatter among the little group was lively as they compared their experiences. Warriors was flushed and slightly giggly, relaxed after the entire bottle of something alcoholic that he'd drunk during the fireworks. Wind, meanwhile, couldn't stop showing off the beautifully-crafted knife he'd won, tripping over his words as he admired it and related his triumph in a quoits-throwing contest.

Twilight heard Legend drop the good-natured observation in Warriors' ear that the young hero really shouldn't have been allowed to join contests alongside ordinary children, but he agreed as Warriors said sleepily that it was good to see Wind act like a child for once.

"What did you do with Sky, Twilight?" asked Wild suddenly, looking up from where he was laying out ingredients for dinner.

Twilight looked at him in confusion. "Me?" he asked and looked over at Time, who was also looking confused.

"I thought Sky was with you, Wild," said Time. "I was about to ask you the same question."

Twilight blinked. "I thought he was with you," he said. "Didn't you go looking for souvenirs for Malon and Sun?"

Time shook his head. "I thought he was going around the food stands with Wild."

"I didn't see him after we separated," said Wild, sitting back on his heels. "I thought he went to watch the horse races with Twilight."

Out of all their Hyrules, Four's was one of the safest, but that didn't mean a missing hero was something to be ignored. Time eased back to his feet with a soft groan and started putting his just-removed armor back on, saying, "He's probably fine, but let's go and check. Wind, Twilight, and Legend, check north, south, and east respectively; I'll take the west. Return in an hour even if you haven't found anything. Hyrule and Wild, stay here and finish setting up camp."

"Shall I check the elixir supply?" asked Wild seriously.

"I hope we won't need healing, but it's worth knowing. Likewise, Warriors, I hope we won't need you to be sober." Time chuckled as Warriors shot him an unfocussed look that he probably intended to be irritated. The remark lightened the anxiety that had been starting to thread through the air, but didn't take it away entirely and as Twilight set out into the darkening forest, heading for the south side of the town, he could feel it twisting somewhere in his gut. He was sure Sky hadn't followed him when he set out through the busy streets, following the sound of hoofbeats and cheering. He really thought he'd heard the other hylian agreeing when Time had said he was going to find a gift for Malon.

What if he'd been wrong and something had happened to Sky when he was separated from the group? How long had he been missing?

Twilight tried to push down the worry. If one of them was going to disappear for a few hours, this was one of the safer places for it to happen. Most likely they'd find that Sky had simply lost track of time or forgotten the rendezvous.

It wasn't like him to have forgotten, but it wasn't impossible in all the noise and excitement of the festival.

And was it more or less likely than that something had happened? There had been no sign of so much as a keese anywhere near the town, but it wouldn't be the first time a member of the Chain, taken unawares, had fallen victim to hylian enemies of one of his brothers. Four had as many enemies as any of them with the exception of Wild and Warriors, who had significantly more.

Twilight gritted his teeth. A crowded festival… someone would have noticed the fight Sky would have put up if attacked.

He was sure he'd gone alone to look at the horses.

He was sure Sky hadn't come with him.

He was sure that if something had happened it hadn't happened right behind him.

His thoughts were interrupted as he caught a familiar smell on the breeze and saw something white gleaming in the forest ahead. Perfume and a white sailcloth. With a gasp of relief, he broke into a jog, calling, "Sky!" as he saw the figure of his brother in the dim light, sitting on a tree stump, leaning his elbows on his knees.

Sky looked up and waved as Twilight heard the wheeze on his breath and realized how fast he was breathing.

"Sky," he said more seriously, crouching beside him. "Are you OK?"

Sky nodded, his hand to his chest, the wheeze more pronounced as he sat upright. "Fine. Sorry, I… know I'm… late."

He couldn't even make it through a sentence without losing breath.

"Are you hurt?"

"No. I'm fine. This happens… sometimes. The damp… makes it worse." Sky forced a grin. "And I made… the mistake… of dancing."

"I didn't know you danced," said Twilight.

"I love dancing." Sky coughed and wheezed. "Unfortunately. Used to be… easier."

Twilight nodded. He wasn't sure what was going on, but said, "Do you need anything?"

"Just to rest." Sky shook his head. Twilight thought he looked pale, but as he propped himself on his knees again his breath seemed to come a little easier.

"OK. It'll be a bit before anyone really worries, so take it easy."

Sky nodded, laying a hand on his chest and wincing. "I thought… I was handling… it. It was fun… to dance again. Even… alone."

"Hey, take it easy. You don't have to make excuses to me and you've not got the breath for much talking, so just say what you have to."

Sky nodded.

Twilight patted his shoulder. "Is this… a new problem?"

"Since… my adventure. Well… mostly."

"OK, tell me the rest later." But he couldn't help asking, "Is this why you can't run as fast or far as the rest of us?"

Sky nodded.

"Why don't you tell anyone that?"

"I'd rather be… made fun of… than treated… like I'm broken."

Twilight started to argue, but remembered he was supposed to be calming Sky down and letting him catch his breath.

Slowly, Sky's breathing steadied and quietened. He sat up and pressed two fingers to the pulse point in his own throat, then nodded.

"OK, I'm all right now," he said. "Let's go."

Still, when Twilight offered him an arm he accepted it to get up.

"You can tell them you found me asleep somewhere," he said with a small smile as they started walking.

"I'll tell them no such thing," said Twilight. "Nobody acts like Time is broken. Nobody's going to think less of you because sometimes you can't breathe right."

Sky shook his head. "I can manage. There's a reason you've not seen me that bad before. But if everyone knows my lungs are always heavy and my heart doesn't beat properly any more…"

"We already know you can't run as far or as fast. What do you think will change from knowing why?"

Sky scowled at the ground.

"If you really want, we can still tease you about being slow and sleepy, but -"

Sky jutted his chin proudly. "But you'll keep a better eye on me to make sure I'm OK? Keep a wing over me in case I fall?"

"Just like with Four when it's cold."

That hit home. Sky sighed, bowing his head. Twilight heard the last of the wheeze.

He put an arm around his shoulders. "Listen, you don't have to tell anyone anything you don't want to, but I'm not lying for you and I think you should tell the truth. Nobody thinks less of you for having scars from your adventure, any more than they do of Wild or… or any of us. It doesn't matter that yours aren't on the outside. Nobody will think you're broken or useless or anything else."

Sky was silent for a long moment, then he said, "I'll think about it."

Twilight hugged him gently and they walked on.

[thexspiral]

I genuinely cannot understand why someone would desire functional multiplicity. I think its a valid option but I cannot understand why someone would want that. For me, alters are intrusions in my life and I want them gone. I cannot understand how someone could be ok with that.

I don't think functional multiplicity is a treatment method that would work for me, but it's the only thing that works for others and that's crazy to me. That we're all so different that what works for one of us couldn't ever work for another.

[positivityoutsiderecovery]

This is going to sound horrific but sometimes I wish it was worse so people would take me seriously. I'm depressed but too self-aware to self harm, so people don't believe me. I'm autistic but my support needs are so low I barely count, so I have no right to speak in those circles. I have a chronic illness but it's invisible and under control so nobody but the doctors believes me. I have chronic pain but it's "just your jaw, how bad can it be?" I was abused but it was emotional not physical so, again, nobody believes me. I wish it was worse, specifically in a way that was visible and impossible to deny, just so someone would understand that I am in fact struggling, and so I could have some kind of proof I could point to when I break down "over nothing". Sorry for venting, but I needed that off my chest. Am I a terrible person for thinking this?

No. But one thing you gotta realize is that there is no point of disability or trauma which will make ableists believe you and treat you well. The people who self harm, the autistic people with high support needs, the people with obvious physical disabilities, the people who were physically abused... All of these people are ALSO getting invalidated and facing ableism. There is no way to win this game.

[distinctlywhumpthing]

Unintentional 25

Previous—Masterlist— Next

CW: BBU-adjacent, institutionalized slavery, dehumanization. Explicit language. Past surgical/medical whump alluded to, hospital setting. As always, beta-read by @alittlewhump <3

Found. 

Found. 

He didn’t know what he was supposed to do with ‘found’. 

It wasn’t good or bad or safe or pain or any of the others that WRU had made so bright and shiny and accessible they were practically glued to his hands. Even when he went deeper, spiraling down into the shadowy, muddled places he cared not to linger in, there was no space for it anywhere. 

Found.

It didn’t matter anyway. All that mattered was what it meant to Leo. 

And he had absolutely no fucking clue. 

“Aiden, I found you,” Leo repeated, like he was able to see exactly how long it was taking Aiden to glean any meaning from the phrase.

His head was hurting, even with all the drugs he’d agreed to. That had to be a bad sign, a sign that they’d lied and the drugs were doing something else since they certainly weren’t eradicating all of his pain. He made sure his grip hadn’t changed around Leo’s hands. Leo’s hands holding his. Like maybe they were all that was holding him together. 

Leo was almost smiling, his eyes still full of emotion. A few tears had fallen just moments ago before he’d made an apology exactly like the one Aiden should have made and couldn’t make. Leo’s eyebrows were still raised because he was expecting this to mean something but Aiden wasn’t clever enough to figure it out. More tests that Harrison designed him to fail. 

He nodded once, holding his breath, hoping to hell that Leo would give him some indication that it was the correct response or at least one that would earn him more explanation. 

Leo tilted his head a fraction of a centimeter to the left and took a breath but the exhale was shorter than the inhale, more audible. 

Fuck. 

Aiden flinched when Leo reached for his shoulder. “M’sorry,” he mumbled.

“You’re good.” Leo rubbed his thumb in circles over the starchy fabric of the hospital gown. 

He wanted to cry. He wasn’t good. None of this could be leading anywhere good.

Leo leaned forward, for some reason undeterred from driving at this point. “Aiden, the day we met. When you woke up in the back of my van, remember?”

Yes, he remembered. A promising first impression.

“That morning, I stopped to get coffee on my way to work and I found you—”

Found whatever lies Harrison had written, raising his hopes so they’d have even further to fall.

“I found you, unconscious in a snowbank off the parking lot—”

No…

“I-I thought you were homeless. I was going to give you my coffee but when I saw you—” Leo reached for his cheek and this time Aiden was too stunned to flinch. “—I just, I didn’t think twice, I wanted to help you, to keep you safe.”

None of this made any sense. Why would he make something like this up? What was the point? 

Leo let out a breath, like a sigh. Was he relieved? 

He was looking at Aiden expectantly again and Aiden wanted to scream. 

Why couldn’t Leo just give him the answer?

“I didn’t even realize that you were a—” Aiden was left to hang in the full shame of what he was, what he had been reduced to. “—Companion. I just wanted to help. I’m sorry I fucked it up, not seeing what was right in front of me, not helping you as well as I could have.” 

There really wasn’t any point in trying to understand the purpose of this fresh test. 

Christ, it was convoluted and he was way too damaged to ever hope to follow. 

His throat ached from holding back sobs.

Nothing he could do would make anything better. 

Worse might be possible, but at this point, did it really even matter? 

“What I’m trying to say is that I didn’t—Aiden, are you with me, sweetheart?” 

His gaze had shifted off Leo’s face to stare, unfocused, at the light of the MRI machine coming through the window. 

Leo searched each of his eyes, one and then the other, to make sure he was paying attention now. 

He burned under the valuation. 

“Aiden, I didn’t buy you, I—”

“Stop.” He stood, the chair rolling away behind him. 

Did he just say that out loud? 

He staggered back, away from Leo and in search of his balance. 

It was all too much, all of this was too much.

“Aiden?” Leo rose to follow him slowly, hands at his sides. Always so careful and calculating. 

“Nnn—please,” he sobbed. 

“Easy, it’s okay—” 

He shook his head, pressing the heels of his palms into his temples.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Leo said quickly. He reached his hand out. “I didn’t mean—I only wanted—”

“Don’t!” Louder than he’d intended, clearer than he thought he was capable of. “Nnn…please,” he added too late. Leo’s face had already fallen, just for a moment before he’d returned to looking concerned.

“Don’t…come near you?” 

Nothing could have been worse. Aiden let himself crumple to the ground, arms coming up around his head as he tried to fold away. To sink into the grave he’d dug for himself hand over fist.

“Oh, sweetheart…”

Aiden shook his head, sobbing. Everything ached. “Nnn—please…nnno…don’t…nnn…lie—” 

After a while, he wondered if maybe he hadn’t said it out loud. Or Leo hadn’t heard his whisper. Or was pretending he hadn’t heard. He tried to quiet his crying to hear. Maybe Leo had left and now, finally—

“I’m going to come sit by you, okay?”

He didn’t move or object so Leo crossed the room and sat beside him. Aiden peeked out to see him dragging a hand over his face, elbows on his knees. 

“There’s probably a dozen better ways I could’ve explained that. Delia told me to wait, she was probably right—she’s always right. I’m sorry.” He sighed, glancing over and caught Aiden watching him. He smiled that half-smile, the one that made a few lines appear by his eyes, the one that looked so kind. “Hi, hon.”

He flushed, despite himself, despite everything, and was so glad his face was covered. Leo’s smile faded and in another well-trained reaction Aiden feared he was disappointed. He almost reached for one of the practiced responses, out of habit, to try to salvage the exchange. 

“I’d never lie to you, Aiden. I know there’s nothing to make you believe that’s not just another lie but I have no reason to lie to you, sweetheart.” 

Aiden couldn’t see the reason either. Unless it were just for sport, which would mean Leo was exactly like Harrison, and Aiden couldn’t face that at all. 

He lifted his head, resting his chin on his knees. His arms were starting to throb from holding his legs up to his chest.

Leo smiled again, same smile as always. 

Same as the time he’d torn open a bag of mini marshmallows in the parking lot, sending them skittering all over the slush, trying to bribe Aiden out from under his van. Same as when he saw Aiden waiting for him downstairs every morning. Same as when he came home every day. 

His heart hammered in his chest. It didn’t seem possible that he could be interpreting all of this right. That any of this was right for him. There was one way to tell. He was pretty sure he’d said it before, correctly, even though he hadn’t really meant to. He’d always been too afraid to practice. The name had never felt like it belonged to him to say. 

The sounds were all there, like they wanted to be spoken. He took a breath—

“Leo?” 

Aiden jumped and Leo put a hand on his back. “It’s just Delia.” 

“Hey, checking in. We can head back now.” 

They each took a side and lifted helped Aiden to his feet. Delia’s name tag clicked against her stethoscope as she leaned down to help Leo. He couldn’t read her name, of course, but there she was in the photo, a wry smile on her lips. He wondered if she had been instructed to look serious but couldn’t keep a straight face or if the security guard in charge of pictures had a sense of humor. 

This was definitely not a place for people like him.

This was a real hospital. 

Delia was a real doctor.

If Leo didn’t have any papers or a contract for him, they really weren’t anywhere remotely related to WRU.

All of that sneaking around had been real. 

What exactly were Leo and Delia risking by bringing him here?

“Sweetheart?” Leo’s hand on his cheek made him gasp. 

He looked between their faces. Apparently, they’d meant for him to be paying attention.

Leo caught onto his panic. “Hey, it’s okay.” He moved his hand down to rest on Aiden’s shoulder. “We’ll head back now. You don’t need to do the scan, okay? It wasn’t fair of me to expect that of you. You can rest a bit more until it’s okay for us to go home. Sound good?”

His head nodded automatically. Leo kept one arm around him as they turned toward the door. 

He planted his feet. 

Leo stopped guiding him. “Aiden?”

He just wanted—he couldn’t— He flapped a hand. What the fuck was that going to convey? He used it to cover his face instead, shaking his head. “Mmm’sorry…m’sorry…” 

“It’s okay, take your time. We still have time,” Delia said. 

The silence swelled as they waited for him, waited on him.

Leo and Delia exchanged a glance that made him want to evaporate. They were confused and he couldn’t fucking articulate a single goddamn thought in his head. This was not going to work or end well. He couldn’t do this. 

He kneaded his brow, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Does it hurt, hon?” Leo rubbed his shoulder. 

Aiden shook his head and tried to swallow the knot of frustration building in his throat. “Mmm…I…I…”

Leo considered him patiently, with that concerned crease appearing right between his brows. 

Aiden couldn’t decide if it made him want to fall into his arms or at his feet. 

He should just be cooperative and go back. 

But maybe it wasn’t only selfish. Leo deserved to know. Even if he was pretending it didn’t matter how damaged Aiden was. Not to mention whatever that meant if Leo hadn’t even wanted a companion in the first place.

Now, he’d done it. Tears started running down his cheeks. He swiped at them with the back of his unbandaged hand but they kept coming. He groaned and it just sounded like a sob. 

“Aiden, honey. Whatever it is, it’s okay.” 

He wondered erratically if he might actually respond better to having it beat out of him. If all of this kindness and patience and consideration was what made him flounder. How could Leo still be so patient with him after the tantrum he’d thrown earlier?

“I…mmm…mmm…” Forget about want, need, have to. It was like Harrison had reached in and removed specific words from his head. Which was exactly the reason why this was so important. He pointed at the black monitors lined up under the window, cringing at how debasing the monkey-gesturing was. “…please?”

“You—you want to do the scan?” 

Something released inside of him, letting free a sob too. He nodded, wiping his face again. 

Leo’s brow furrowed even more. “I’m sorry, I should have asked. I didn’t think—”

He shook his head quickly, now crying in earnest. This was a mistake. He shouldn’t have done or said anything to make Leo—

“Alright, okay. Hey, Aiden, hey.” Leo moved closer, squeezing both his shoulders. “It’s okay. If this is what you want, we’ll make it happen.” 

He sniffled and nodded. He wanted to sink into the floor for making so much trouble. For the way it was making him feel to have Leo gently thumbing the tears off his face and acting like everything really was going to be okay.

Previous—Masterlist— Next

@octopus-reactivated @maracujatangerine @nicolepascaline @mazeish @whumpy-writings @cracked-porcelain-princess @meetmeinhellcroutons @briars7 @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @neuro-whump @painsandconfusion @wolfeyedwitch @skyhawkwolf @haro-whumps @onlybadendings @peachy-panic @fillthedarkvoid @rabass @crystalquartzwhump @dont-touch-my-soup @mylifeisonthebookshelf @hold-him-down @guachipongo @creetchure @leyswhumpdump @aseasonwithclara @catawhumpus @magziemakeswhatever @espresso-depresso-system @pigeonwhumps @batfacedliar-yetagain

[mother-ofthe-universedraws]

Tw: Body horror, both internalized and general ablism, minor violence, mental illnesses

Conditions AU; Pov Ford Pines. Click to zoom in!

Ford had some of the same conditions Stan did, though their “removal” via cybernetics and sci-fi meds became necessary for his survival in the multiverse.

Ford thought Bill was the cause of his conditions, and likewise thinks Bill is the cause of Stan’s. He is, unfortunately, very wrong.

[pawjamas]

i am. genuinely asking how to deal with internalized ableism that has so deeply rooted itself within me since growing up as an autistic & mentally ill child that literally every single time i so much as have an ounce of struggle during my daily life i turn to screaming internally at myself as my mother would towards me.

i get told i’m valuable no matter what by my wife and it means the world to hear that from her, it truly does, but me - as well as that child within me that grew up being told the opposite, does not fucking believe it’s true no matter how hard i try. ESPECIALLY when my daily life becomes more hard than usual to live due to disability, that things that come so naturally and are So Simple for abled people is an entire fucking massive event with insane amount of effort for me to be able to complete/do. how do i not hate myself for this when it’s been taught to me that i should?

this is a genuine question. and something i’m going to attempt to tackle when i finally have therapy again, but it is DEEPLY rooted within me, so fucking far within me that i almost feel like it’s made up that it’d ever be possible to love my disabled self wholly and fully and give myself compassion towards being such. idk i’m sorry for posting this as i know i reblog a lot of positivity for being disabled but surprisingly i don’t feel i’m allowed to feel those sort of considerate/kind things towards me specifically.

[hpdcultureis]

hpd culture is thinking that you don't have have hpd and you're just attention whore

.

[compassionatereminders]

I have a chronic stomach condition that flares up due to stress or a variety of other factors but I feel bad calling myself chronically ill because I have a lot of days where I am okay and able to function. Is it offensive to call myself chronically ill? So many people struggle so much more than I do.

There will always be people who have it worse, and you don't have to be the single most miserable person in the world to call yourself chronically ill or disabled. I'd say everyone with a lasting/recurring health issue are free to use those terms, because absolutely no one actually benefits from turning illness into a competition where only a few people get to feel "valid" in their suffering

[tortiefrancis]

For the writing asks: one cat warrior comforting another? I do not know much about the specific cats so you can choose them but i want to see a cat warrior beingtold something they needed to hear. if thats a good prompt for u

( that's an amazing prompt and I'm going to use two canon characters but in an au.... if that's aight )

"Longtail, come on, this is nonsense!"

Mousefur and Longtail had been going back and forth for hours in a spot away from the camp, and the small molly's fur was starting to raise. She hissed.

"You're one of ThunderClan's oldest warriors, you've been with us through fire and storm, and now you want to quit?" She jumped as she spoke.

"We all retire someday," the tom looked down, "I'm getting old, and..."

"And what?"

He hesitated. "Maybe it's my fault Swifttail was attacked that day, maybe-"

"Oh, don't even start it!"

Longtail raised his head and flipped his ears towards her. His posture had suddenly become tense, and he felt the brown molly get closer to him.

"It wasn't your fault." She rested her body on his, talking with a calmer voice. "You couldn't have known, none of us could have known."

"But what if this is..." He hesitated. "What if I'm being punished?

"You are not, Longtail."

As she looked up, their eyes met each other. His once vibrant blue eyes were now foggy, almost gray. Mousefur put one of her paws on his face, gently.

"Being blind isn't a punishment, you mouse brain." She playfully tapped on his muzzle, and he flinched for a second. "Haven't you seen how good of a warrior Mossheart is? And they were basically born blind! Would you tell them that they're being punished for something?"

Longtail sighed. "No..."

"Would you say that about Cinderpelt's leg? Brightheart's face? Swifttail's paw?"

"No, never."

"Then why would you say that about yourself?"

The tom stood quiet for a moment or two, but finally, he let out a sigh. "I'm just not sure how I'm supposed to live now, how to be a warrior like I always have been..."

"You can ask for help, you know? The clan is here for you..."

"I never had to before."

"Maybe you should try to now."

He flicked his ears towards her. "Are you sure? I mean... can I?"

Mousefur put her paw on his face again. "Of course you can, fox head. Of course you can."

Longtail smiled softly, as he became teary eyed. "You're a really good friend, Mousefur."

"You too, Longtail." She messed with his fur, as both giggled.

[uncanny-tranny]

It's so, so hard to resist feeling like your disability/disabilities are a punishment for your failure or a punishment because you are Fundamentally Bad.

I tip my hat and offer space in my heart for everybody currently struggling with that dynamic. We can talk all day about how shitty and inaccurate the "disabilities are a punishment!" is, but it doesn't always prevent you from buying into it. So many people want desperately not to be struggling or in pain, even if it means blaming yourself. It's hard to accept that sometimes, disabilities just... happen. They just happen no matter what we do, no matter if we were "good" or "bad."

I hope that one day, you will be able to be more at peace with your disability/disabilities. For now, though, take it at your pace. You do not have to love yourself, but you also do not have to hate yourself. You deserve the world, and I want to see you in this world thriving no matter what that looks like.

[limpfisted]

(ask reply @witchpetal ) EYE TRAUMA WARNING, ABLEISM / INTERNALIZED ABLEISM TW.

“Could I give it to you for free, I would,” he smiles. “Alas. I think I will keep it on me. It suits me, don’t you think? Gives The Blade an air of mystery.”

He can’t tell her. He can’t tell her how when he was seventeen he tried to rip it out and Mizora burnt his fingers before he could throw it into the Sea of Stars. The punishment would be brutal. He would be breaking the terms of his contract. It didn’t help that Mizora had him half convinced back then she was helping him—he needed an eye to fill the socket. No one would look at him, much less call him hero, with a burnt out socket.

It was an unnecessary cruelty. Mizora was full of unnecessary cruelties. Little jokes. Petty insults. Shame squeezed out so dirty thick that it could wring all the kindness out of an Eldest Daughter, and the stubbornness out of the stalwart youngest son, like a rolled up, cold, sopping dishrag.

It is what it is.

[genderqueerpositivity]

(TW: gender dysphoria, mental illness, HRT, medication, transphobia, ableism, possibly internalized ableism and transphobia.

This is a lot so read at your own risk.)

Being on testosterone has been such a major thing for my mental health. I'm what, a year and four months on testosterone now? I only really started to understand the full impact of the dysphoria once it began to ease. I am incredibly grateful that HRT has done so much to improve my life and I'm grateful to have access to it, while I can.

I can't even fully express the difference that being on testosterone has made for me.

At the same time, it's also become (even more) obvious over the past year that a lot of my mental health issues are...not dysphoria. HRT wasn't a "magic pill", so to speak. My issues were also not "just depression and anxiety", but have been incorrectly diagnosed as such for a long time, including by myself.

The first time that I really attempted to address this last year, it went badly. I was struggling and desperate for someone to understand, and having that pain dismissed put me off the idea of asking for help again, for months.

But I finally did again this week. I have a possible name for what I've been going through. And I'll be starting a new medication shortly.

I'm mentally ill.

I'm mentally ill and I'm trans.

My neurodivergence has already been used against me in the past to invalidate my transness. What will happen if I am potentially being given an even more stigmatized label?

This will absolutely be information that I'm not sharing with my HRT provider (even though I've been with their practice long enough that I legitimately don't believe it would change anything)...but is this going to stand in the way of me having gender affirming surgery later?

On some level I'm also afraid. I know my gender. I know that I'm trans. But there is also this quiet fear I can get rid of that I'm going to start this medication and somehow discover that my transness was some kind of 12+ year long delusion. Which is terrifying in a way I can really explain. It's like the very first time that I started antidepressants and was afraid that my entire personality would change and I would be someone else entirely. It's unlikely and frightening at the same time.

I have been desperately trying to get my shit together for months now and I know that this is a necessary first step. The amount of stress I've been under since last fall has definitely played a role in things getting as rough as they have. I'm trying to figure out where to go from here. I have other appointments to make and such, prescriptions to fill and somehow make myself take on time everyday.

Overall I'm not really surprised by anything that's happened. I am a little embarrassed of having to share the worst of what happens in my head with a total stranger. I'm a little afraid of what the new medication will do to me, I'm a little bit scared.

I'm also hopeful that it might work. And relieved to finally have done something about this.

[positivityoutsiderecovery]

Hi Kat,

I think i am autistic. I know i am neurodivergent for sure because i know there is something wrong and different about me but its never been taken seriously. I know this isn't "I saw a tiktok and now im self diagnosing", I know there is something that is keeping me from being like everybody else.

I want to get an evaluation because I am an adult now but the times I've mentioned suspecting autism to doctors they seemed skeptical. My parents were very much like that too (although they had no problem getting upset when I showed ND symptoms).

I guess I just feel weird because I dont *know* if im autistic, but Ive wanted a diagnosis for so long. Like if im wrong, what does that say about me? I just want to know that there is a reason why i feel so fundamentally different and separate from other humans. Im in college now but I still feel like I always have- an awkward child person whos scared of people and cant make/keep friends

Even if you're wrong, all that will make you is a person who is trying to help themselves by looking for relevant answers and resources. And that's not a bad thing to be! So I encourage you to keep pushing and researching. There's nothing wrong with desiring an answer to why you're struggling. Not even if you discover that the answer wasn't what you assumed