there are a lot of posts out there that are positive and healthy coping mechanisms for handling the holidays. this is not one of them :)
i think there's like. going to be times in your life you will be stuck in a social situation that you cannot escape from gracefully. i do not know why the internet doesn't believe these times exist. it's not always just that your physical safety is at risk - sometimes it's legit like "i just don't currently have the energy or time to put in the effort of responding to this." sometimes it's a coworker you hate so much. sometimes it's just like, fine, you know? like you know you can handle your aunt when she's cheerily horrible, but if you actually set a boundary around her, it's going to be weeks of fallout with your father.
i don't know why people think the answer is always just "cut them out!" or "don't let them get away with that!" because ... the real world is tricky and complicated. i think kind of a lot of us have an internal "radiation poisoning" meter for certain people. like - i'm talking about the ones who are absolutely giving you gradual ick damage. like, you can handle them, but you'll be exhausted.
and yes. you absolutely should listen to your therapist and the good posts about handling others and set good boundaries and take care of yourself. prioritize peace.
HOWEVER :) ...... since im often in a situation with a Gradual Sense of Ick person i cannot just "cut out" of my life (without losing someone else precious to me) - i have sort of developed the most. maladaptive form of mischief possible. because like, if i'm going to have to listen to this shit again, i like to have a little bit of private fun with it.
now! again, i am physically safe, just mentally drained by this man. you should only do this with people you are not in danger with. which leads me to my suggestions for when your Unfortunate Acquaintance shows up and says oh everyone pay attention to me.
my favorite word is "maybe!" said as brightly and happily as possible. whenever the Horrible Person starts in on a topic you do not want to go further with, particularly if they make a claim that you know to be inaccurate, do not respond to it. you and i have both tried to actually argue with this person, and it hasn't gone well, because this person just wants the drama of an argument. however, "maybe!" gives them literally nothing to go on. it is incredibly disarming. they are used to people having some response. they know they can't prove what they're saying, and maybe! treats them like the child they are. it dismisses them in the politest way possible.
i like to say maybe! and then, in their stunned silence, immediately change the subject. this is because i have adhd and i will have something unrelated to talk about, but if you can't think of topics fast enough, i recommend just pointing to something and saying, "isn't that lovely?" because fuck you let's bring in some positivity.
by the way. that second trick - of pointing to something and stating an opinion about it? - that just works on its own, like, 70% of the time. i picked it up from teaching preschoolers. it's an intentional "redirect". it stops children crying and it also stops grown adults from finishing their explanation on why women belong in kitchens. dual wielding!
keep it silly for yourself. i absolutely do not care if people think i'm fucking stupid (it's more fun if they do) and as a result i will purposefully misunderstand things just to see how long it takes them to realize i've completely removed them from the subject at hand. when they say "women aren't funny" i get to be like. "which women." "all women." "all women in america?" "no in the world." "like the mole people? the people in the world?" "what? no. like, alive." "oh are we not counting the mole people?" "what the fuck are you talking about." "you don't believe in the mole people?"
similarly, i play a personal game called "one up me." my Evil Acquaintance literally knows this game exists (my family & friends caught onto it and now also play it) and it always fucking gets him. i don't know why. you have to be willing to be a little free-spirited on this one, though. the trick is that when they make one of those horrible little bigoted or annoying comments they are always making, you need to go one unit weirder. not more intense, mind you - just more weird. "you don't look good in that dress." "yeah, actually, my other dress was covered in squid ink due to a mishap at the soup store." "you shouldn't wear such revealing clothes." "wait, what? oh shit. sorry, your son tears off strips when no one is looking and eats them. i swear it was longer before we left the building."
the point of "one up me" is to completely upend this person's narrative. we both know this person likes setting up situations where you cannot "win" and then they really like telling other people how badly you handled it. in a usual situation, if you respond "please don't say something that rude", you're a bitch. but if you let it happen, you're letting yourself be debased. they are not usually expecting door number three: unflappably odd. because what are they going to say when they're telling everyone how badly you behaved? "she said my son eats her dresses" ".... okay?"
if you can, form an allyship with someone whomst you can tagteam with. where they can pick up on your weird "soup store" story and run with it.
the following phrase is amazing and can be deployed for any situation: "oh, be nice :) it's the holidays!" i do not know why this works as often as it does. i'll say it for the most random shit. i think this is bc most of the time these people know they're being impolite, they just like to fight.
godbless. when in doubt, remember that you could always start stealing their pens.
the whole point of this is - if you can't escape. maybe see how long you can just be. like. a horrible little menace.
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i think what i adore about ladynoir beyond high school age (18 and over) is the opportunity it leaves for some of the most DELICIOUS best friends to lovers scenarios. because, like, two people who've been fighting side by side for years? who've known each other long enough to make jokes about it, haha remember when we were fourteen and you-- we AGREED to never speak of it!!!! who've spent so long learning each other inside out, even, in chat noir's case, getting over feelings, that the idea of anything romantic between them is so far off the radar that they don't feel the need for certain boundaries, because why would it matter if they made jokes about how attractive they find each other, about getting married, about how they could totally mess with the rest of the miracle team by pretending they're hooking up because it's so far out of the realm of possibility.
but then there would be that imperceptible shift. the moment where one of them makes a joke and it feels just a bit more loaded than it should. gazes lingering where they never lingered and playful smiles turning curious. the sudden awareness that, while maybe they were cuddling on a rooftop with their best friend, they were also wrapped up in the arms of someone they trust with their lives, and is extremely attractive, and, wait, if the only reason it was platonic before was because there were no feelings, what does THIS mean?
THE TENSION. THE PINING. THE INHERENT MESS OF BEING IN YOUR TWENTIES. PLEASEEEE
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The fact that all Gwen knows about her variants in other universes is that they're dead is so sad. Like imagine you want to know what happens to you in other dimensions and it turns out that wherever you look you mean nothing, you're so unimportant that there's no bigger role for you other than dying.
And I've seen you guys pointing this out, where she's looking at what looks like her own death and even if it's not this is not just a "love interest" Gwen, this is a superhero who is supposed to mean something, but she doesn't. She's only here to die. And so far this (our) Gwen doesn't have any reason to believe that she won't die very soon just like other Gwens.
I think that one of the main reasons why she's rejecting Miles is not just her trauma and all shit she's been through and the fear of dying like other Gwens when they're involved with Spider-Man, but also because if they start something and she dies this will hurt him too.
It's easy to say "canon events aren't true she shouldn't believe in that" but this isn't just a regular risk, this is her life we're talking about.
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Scent Kink!Keigo who's raptorial senses have been finely honed like a sharpened blade for as long as he can remember. For all his analytical prowess, he could never quite pinpoint the exact cause of his heightened senses. Perhaps it, like most things, is a combination of nature and nurture— avian DNA and brutal, militant training. The source matters little to him. Keigo has always been one for outcomes.
Scent Kink!Keigo who discovers pretty early on in your friendship that your scent is distinct. If he could put it into words, the first that would come to mind is warm. It smells warm when he sits next to you on the couch, bouncing his leg like a dog that smells something delectable right under its nose yet tries to behave and contain himself all the same. Your neck is perfectly bare. If he could just lean over and bury his nose in whatever crevice is most available, he'd die a happy man.
Scent Kink!Keigo who is actually so normal about your scent, all these years later. Sure, he memorizes your smell, conjures up the scent in his mind's eye whenever he has trouble sleeping at night. The thought of it soothes him, aids in building his picturesque fantasies of you holding him from behind and shushing the bad dreams away. But he's very normal about it. Of course he's attached— you're his best friend.
Scent Kink!Keigo who can't remember the first time your scent began to cause his pants to grow tight. He thinks it was that night you arrived late for your usual meetup, panting and running before throwing your arms around him and apologizing, promising you ran just to make sure he didn't wait too long. He remembers his eyes widening while his pupils shrunk to dots, overwhelmed by the potency of you invading every sense. It made his cock throb. He made an excuse to hide in the bathroom within the hour.
Scent Kink!Keigo who does a remarkable job at containing the whine in his throat when you show him around your new apartment, quickly discovering you didn't bother to put away your laundry basket before he arrived. Why should you worry about your best friend seeing it? Keigo would never hold ill intentions. Keigo would never stuff a pair of your panties in his back pocket, Keigo wouldn't dream of fantasizing the second he secures it, flashes of the misbehavior he could get up to conjured quickly in his mind.
Scent Kink!Keigo who fidgets and avoids your eyes when you insist he stay so you can feed him takeout that night. The weight of his prize stings against his thigh; and as much as he loves your company, something else is calling to his attention right now. He quickly makes an excuse, faking a dispatch call by your window and waving once before he takes flight.
Scent Kink!Keigo who's brain glitches when he gets home and realizes he has to decide what to do first: take out his cock to touch himself and relieve the pressure straining in his pants, or pull your used panties out of his pocket. He picks the second option.
Scent Kink!Keigo who's whining in his bed moments later, your scent finally rubbed across his face with his hand fisting between his legs. It's like static when he twists his wrist with each stroke, imagining the smell of sex in the air as you ride his cock. Eyes rolled into the back of his skull, he swears the scent of your freshly used panties is enough. At least for tonight. At least until he needs a little refresher for his memory and has to snag another.
Scent Kink!Keigo who thinks he's a degenerate. He's a pervert. He's a sick freak who gets off on his crush's panties stuffing his mouth to muffle his moans, his saliva drenching the poor fabric; and he's even sicker for getting his dick wet to the thought of you catching him and repeating those insults in his ear while you sit on his face. He's sick, imagining himself inhaling it right from the source, spilling all over his abdomen to the thought of it.
Scent Kink!Keigo who is entirely, utterly fucked when you decide to move in together as roommates. Trouble isn't something he considered before. He's too excited by the idea of being around you to consider the repercussions on his mental health to be in such close proximity to you when night falls.
Scent Kink!Keigo who doesn't know whether it's a blessing or a curse that your room is directly adjacent to his. He knows exactly when you're touching yourself in the next room over.
Scent Kink!Keigo who throws his head back with a groan, hand ghosting down his happy trail and sliding beneath his waistband to grab his swelling cock again.
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