#which is a big no no when you have a bleeding disorder

[slimylittlemaggot]

Ngl I should probably go to hospital rn but I don't want to cuz I have class tomorrow and I don't want to miss it

[monstersflashlight]

What do you think about eldritch monsters? Do you have any reqests about it/will you write about them?

I have a brainrot (made a bot out of it 💀) about an eldritch monster being mistaken by humans for a god and given sacrifices. One of the sacrifices instead of bleeding from every orifice and seizing upon seeing it is actually just staring. Quite creepily, unblinking and mostly not talking. They follow it in his cave, set up their comfy corner out of stored cloth humans offered to it in the past. The eldritch being is very confused and tries to take care of the human who (it looked in the human's brain to confirm it's theory) is not mentally well. (Headcanon any disorder you want)

The sacrifice isn't scared, just stares at it 24/7. They don't talk much except saying their name, "pretty" when staring at it or "night sky" when asked to describe it. Slowly they even got comfortable enough to cuddle it. Then nibble and bite it. Mostly when they get upset or aren't understood what they want. Eldritch monster is very gentle with the human, knowing it's fragile as an little ant.

Then to sucking it's tendrils that pet them cause they taste like seafood.

Optionaly the human can even get so comfortable they just grind on the writhing mass or use it's tendrils as a dildo (to it's amusement).

And the appearance and vibe of it is mostly like giant anthro butterfly with two big eyes on the wings and most on body. It can make mouths on it's body. It's voice is heard in mind like a rumbling bass. When it stands up it has very intimidating aura which the human feels as a slight pressure (like weighted blanket it's for them) and when it cuddles them and covers in it's wings, it's warm. Not warm warm, but kind of at night sitting in front of a small fire warm (cold and hot at the same time from everywhere + wind blowing makes it plplplplpll).

Bonus, human pokes the eyes and the finger goes in, trapping them. The being wanted to teach a,lesson and to prank them. Human did it again. Being scolds them with a mean look and doesn't give them headpats for whole day. Human never did it again.

Hi anon! I have a couple eldrich monster requests already, yours sounds very fun, too. I don't know when I will write the ones I have tho, life is hectic. But it's a fantastic idea you have there :)

[sysmedsaresexist]

Hey we've been thinking about that "OSDD was a temporary diagnosis" post for a while and. it makes complete sense what you guys said but like. we can't get ANYONE to diagnose us as anything CDD, let alone anything that isn't going to give us the treatment equivalent of slapping a bandaid on a stab wound. Is there like, anywhere we could look further into P-DID/DID research on the subject? We're not comfortable moving off of the self diagnosis of OSDD-1b yet so we wanna be triple sure to get as much information as possible.

Thankies 💕💕💕

- 🐑 & 🌸 of the Constellation Collective

There's places all over to find that info, but I want to encourage you not to overthink it. You can dig deeper, you absolutely should, but the label... it doesn't matter. It's really, truly okay to get this one wrong and switch around between the labels or use them interchangeably. I promise. You don't need to be right, because you're right regardless (unless it's a misdiagnosis, but I'm going to talk about that at the end of this, because it's important).

I am diagnosed OSDD, but I call myself DID. It's easy, I understand that there's not that big of a difference, no one is going to yell at us (me or you) if it turns out that we have the other one. We're not misrepresenting ourselves. If it turns out I would only ever be diagnosed with OSDD, that doesn't mean I was wrong using the DID label, or that I was even mislabelling myself.

Whether you're diagnosed with DID or OSDD largely depends on where you live. I made a post about this a while back but I can't find it. The US is more likely to diagnose OSDD with minor amnesia than the UK. They're more likely to call minor amnesia DID (as they should). It's literally a dice throw, and not that important.

To quote my BFF, Colin Ross,

The dividing line between DID and most cases of dissociative disorder not otherwise specified is arbitrary [or OSDD]. Most cases of DDNOS are partial forms of DID which lack either clear switching of executive control, full amnesia barriers between identity states, or clear differentiation and structure of identity states. They are partial forms of DID with the same patterns of childhood trauma and co-morbidity.

Also this quote.

So on the one hand we have a vast swathe of people who are, or would be, diagnosed with OSDD as opposed to dissociative identity disorder but who show almost all of the symptoms of DID. Many people therefore see DID and OSDD as appearing on a spectrum, and prefer to conflate the two conditions so that DID/OSDD represents a range of dissociative experiences with more or less amnesia and greater or less elaboration and distinctive identity states or parts of the personality.

It is also what happens in practice: very few people would realistically distinguish between DID and OSDD.

And,

Both OSDD and DID are the result of the spontaneous action of the brain in response to trauma. Both contain different self-states, holding shards of memory and ‘unformulated experience’ (Stern, 1997). Both can be helped by similar approaches to therapy which encourage neuronal repair and result in brain growth such as increased hippocampal volume. Above all, all forms of dissociation need to be validated for their unique contribution to survival.

P-DID is a bit of a new one. Here's the ICD link to it, if you want to read more, but it's going to be the same as above. It's really not that important. Its main difference is that the system doesn't really switch, it's mostly intrusion (like feelings bleeding between alters and host).

These are really only useful for describing how your system generally functions.

Finally, misdiagnosis.

It's okay to be wrong completely. Maybe it's just BPD or OCD, autism, any of the number of disorders that come with identity confusion.

When someone self DX something like BPD and they finally get to therapy and find out it's literally ANYTHING else, we celebrate with them. Good job, you found answers! You're on the right path! You can get the right kind of help now. You did what you had to do in order to get by, and you did your best to try to understand yourself with the tools you had. The use of the first label wasn't malicious, you didn't hurt anyone by using it, and you probably got yourself pretty knowledgeable on the topic.

You are now a resource for those who are also trying to figure themselves out.

Who knows better what the difference between BPD and OSDD is than someone who tried out both and found the answer?

Being wrong doesn't mean you're bad, I don't know why we don't celebrate a misdiagnosis of DID like we do some others. We're all just trying to understand ourselves, and sometimes we're wrong. The point is that eventually we figure it out, and the journey there... recognizing a misdiagnosis is a GOOD part of your story, and it's an important story to share. You were still struggling, regardless of what label you used and what you're being diagnosed with.

Use the label that feels right to you. If you want to keep using OSDD, that's fine. You're describing how your system works right now, and that's perfect. Using DID or OSDD, you'll end up in the same place regardless-- hopefully this means with a good therapist who's going to take your symptoms seriously, but you're going to end up in that same chair no matter what label you're using.

I really hope this helped.

Also, I didn't really touch on it, but I'm sorry you're struggling to get a diagnosis. That must be incredibly frustrating. Don't give up. Unfortunately, the average is about 5 years for most. Keep advocating for yourself.

[your-punk-mom]

Vash needs therapy Pt. 1

(FYI: My view on therapy is that everyone can benefit from professional support, at least at times. But some people *need it urgently, right now, and maybe long term*. It’s a tool, don’t judge.)

So here’s my personal rule: DON’T DIAGNOSE PEOPLE OVER THE INTERNET. It’s unethical, and even if I were qualified (I am not) it would still be wrong.

But Vash is fictional, so that’s ok. :)

I said previously that psychological character analysis tries to explain how a character’s actions flow naturally from their past, relationships, and assumptions.

Today, we’re going to mostly look at actions. And Vash’s actions say he’s got a Savior Complex.

Savior Complex (SC) isn’t a diagnosis of mental illness. It’s not even in any version of the DSM. It’s more like a state of mind, stemming from toxic beliefs and reflected in toxic behaviors. Anybody can develop this mindset, with or without an accompanying mental illness.

Thanks to not being a “disorder”, SC is not a big subject for serious academics, but practicing therapists write about it a lot, so my citations are a little bit informal.

My favorite version of a definition of SC is from Grouport:

The savior complex is a psychological construct that describes a person's need or compulsion to save others, often neglecting their own needs in the process. It's a behavior pattern often rooted in empathy, but when left unchecked, it can lead to unhealthy dynamics in relationships and personal distress.

Individuals with a savior complex often believe that their worth is tied to their ability to help others. This belief can stem from societal expectations that value selflessness and altruism, sometimes to the point of self-sacrifice.

Doing good deeds is not a bad thing by itself; it even has health benefits for both helper and helped. But taken to extremes, it becomes a problem. People with SC often damage themselves and others in the name of saving someone, even the target of their help.

WebMD has a pretty thorough list of behaviors and beliefs that can indicate a SC. Let's match some of what we observe in Vash's actions and words to these indicators.

Does helping or saving others:

✅Put you in danger physically if you try to save someone in a dangerous situation

Agreeing to duel the Officer Chuck Lee in Jeneora Rock; jumping back inside the worm to rescue the reporters; getting in the middle of Wolfwood and Livio's firefight; walking right into Knives' trap; taking a bullet for literally anyone.

✅Affect your mental state, especially if you aren’t able to save the other person

After Rosa kicks him out of Jeneora Rock, Vash tells Meryl he is smiling because "I don't deserve to cry"; refusing to talk after Jeneora Rock; refusing to eat for two days after Jeneora Rock, refusing to eat for weeks after the Big Fall (especially significant since he only eats for the joy of it); stating that that he “failed” to protect Rem, and so he *has* to save LITERALLY EVERYONE; after the Big Fall, lying about Nai's survival to Luida and Brad.

✅Cause you to neglect your own physical needs, which could lead to illness

Refusing to eat for two days after Jeneora Rock; refusing to eat for weeks after the Big Fall; Letting that one officer in JuLai shoot him over Jeneora Rock, when Vash easily could have dodged; letting the JuLai military police beat him up until he was bleeding, in Jeneora Rock.

❌Lead you to get burned out

Not Vash, but only because he's not human.

✅Affect your personal relationships

In Rosa's first appearance, she says Vash rescued the town before, and that any friend of his is welcome in her diner. But after the Nebraskas, EG the Mine, and Knives wreck the town and Knives steals the Plant, Jeneora Rock has no power or water, and they have an enormous quantity of injured and dead people. Rosa blames Vash and kicks him out.

Wolfwood and Vash continually fight because Vash wants Wolfwood to adopt nonviolence, while Wolfwood finds that totally impractical. This creates conflict when Wolfwood kills the giant worm, then again when he shoots Rollo as a mercy, and again when Livio turns up on the steamer. Vash wants Wolfwood to change, even against his own will.

And then there's Knives. //sigh//

Effin Knives... Let's just put a quote here from VeryWellMind:

They also can have problems in their relationships with family and friends, and frequently find themselves being taken advantage of by others. People close to a person with a savior complex just assume that person will take care of them, without any regard to their needs. It can lead to a toxic, one-sided relationship, where your boundaries and feelings are not respected.

🤷‍♀️Negatively affect the person or people you’re trying to help

This is less clear-cut, because lots of people blame Vash for events that others are acually responsible for (chiefly Knives). We could argue that his previous failures lead to people not trusting his intentions, and acting against his saving them... Or we could just talk about Rollo. Vash essentially failed Rollo twice, when he didn't return in time to prevent him being made a child sacrifice, and again 20 years later when Wolfwood shot him as a mercy killing. Vash was angry, but Wolfwood pointed out forcing Rollo to continue living in pain and misery was cruel, and Vash was not able to cure the monstrous changes done to Rollo. Wolfwood feels the killing was actually compassionate, but Vash insists he could have found a solution without killing.

If we call that one a half-point, giving us a 4.5 out of 6 behaviors. Again, SC is not an illness, this is not at all diagnostic, but it's enough to suggest talking to a therapist would be helpful.

There's other self-assesment lists and articles out there, and some lump Hero Complex into the same broad definition as Savior. I had accidentally confused SC with Martyr Complex in an earlier post. The difference really seems be that both people with a Hero or Martyr complex need acclaim or praise for the good deeds they do, but Vash doesn't care about rewards or recognition at all. Rosa said he fixed the plant before for free, and other than food or drink, we never see him ask for payment or even trade in exchange for helping anyone in Trigun Stampede.

---

Please tell me what you think of Part 1. Part 2 will cover the psychology of Vash regarding how his past relates to his beliefs, and if we have time, we can try to get into what that does to his relationships.

[cevherien]

can you do a yan/toxic ellie that sometimes get so upset at reader that when they’re arguing that things get physical….she feels really bad about it ofc and convinces reader that it wasn’t a big deal so she doesn’t leave.

sorry if this is too dark or if you don’t take request 😭

of course i can!! i take drabble asks besides it's just fiction <3

(Dark content ahead, curate your own experience on this platform)

She'd never purposely want to hurt a hair on you but when her vision goes red, the short glint of light in her eyes disappear and you can no longer see behind her gaze.

it's completely neurotic when this happens, like she can't help it. Similar to an impulse disorder she's driven without any thought, she finds herself back in Seattle mentally and her fight or flight response kicks in.

Like a small puppy being cornered it's reactive and destructive (either to the environment or to herself)

When this happens, which is extremely rare, in this case because you suppress those urges in her mind normally, but you also bring out both the best and the worst in her, like a catalyst triggering her cognitive dissonance.

When she first did something like this, you forgave her thinking she was overwhelmed and having a flashback of sorts. The second time was a little different, since she was of sound mind and the only reason she got violent was because you were speaking to a bitch she told you not to.

You were left bleeding from your nose because you tried to defend that whore to Ellie, and she doesn't take that lightly. Textbook abusive relationship, she tells you she did it for your own good.

"This hurts me more than it hurts you baby," and "I know what's best for you, you should be listening to me."

She comforts you though, right after the assault. She does feel bad, but truly believes she's doing whats needed to be done.

You were really too sweet for this world, a naive little girl, a little bunny in a dirty and dangerous world that would prey on you. Hurt you and take you away from her. She nodded to herself about taking you, convinced she did the right thing.

After that she doesn't really give you time to ponder on it as she floods you with affection, partly because she doesn't like to see you hurting and partly because she's afraid you might leave her.

She wouldn't let you leave, though. But it's better to play safe than be sorry.

Showering you with kisses as you cry with your bottom lip quivering, face flushed and nose still bleeding. You avoid her gaze, but she gently raises your chin up to meet her eyes.

"It's okay angel, I'm here." your body was hesitant under her touch. "I'll always be here."

[tyranasauruslex]

Some of my burn survivor Thranduil H/Cs

The entire right side of his face and scalp are numb due to extensive nerve damage.  His hair that got burnt off grew back but any sort of tugging or even putting it up in a ponytail gives him a headache, so Thranduil wears it down 99% of the time. He also trims his own hair because having a sharp object near his face when he only has 50% vision makes him anxious. The doctors rebuilt his face using bits of his ribs and muscle from his leg and whilst his face is a picture of pristine porcelain, the same could not be said for the rest of his body. The burn scars run from his neck, chest and all the way down to his calf on the right hand side. The skin graft scars on his left leg have faded over time but there’s still a big dent from the missing muscle. Aside from his medical team, nobody has seen Thranduil without his clothes off for years so he tells himself he isn’t overly bothered by the scars on his body. 

The fire burnt away the internal lining of his nose causing it to bleed at random intervals. It also robbed him of his sense of taste and smell; everything tastes like cardboard to him now. Inhaling smoke from the fire damaged his esophagus which led to trouble swallowing and being unable to eat a lot of food in one sitting. His gag reflex is terrible and he’s often sick after meals which had led to people believing that as well as being an alcoholic, he also has an eating disorder. The fear of being sick in public has led him to avoid eating out which only added fuel to the “Thranduil is fucked up” rumours. 

His doctor has been trying to convince him to have his damaged eye removed for years. For starters he can’t see out of it, it constantly gets infected and causes him endless amounts of pain. Thranduil keeps avoiding the issue because he’s not quite ready to give in just yet. Being deaf in one ear doesn’t really bother him because its not something you can see but Thranduil has had a lifetimes worth of people staring at his face and adding a prosthetic eye feels like more than he can cope with. By far the worst is the migraines which can often leave him bedridden for days; huddled under his duvet as he tries to sleep away the pain.

He plans all his medical procedures and operations for when Legolas is either on a school trip or at a sleepover. Nor does he ever tell anyone that he’s going into hospital, even if it means having to look after himself and a small child until he feels better. He’s made it this far on his own and letting someone step in now and help seems pointless. Yes, it would be nice to be looked after and not have to go through everything on his own but that doesn’t seem to be Thranduils lot in life. 

It takes Bard months to convince Thranduil to let him look after him when he’s unwell but he remains resistant until he has no choice to except help when a particularly bad migraine lands him in hospital. Its nice being tucked into bed and fed soup knowing that Legolas is being taken care and he won’t have to drag himself out to do the school run. 

[untoldsoup]

Just wanted to say that I love your Human Bowser comic! I specifically loved the colors chosen for pages 42-47! They’re so nice and satisfying it’s kinda hard to describe! What’s your thought process when choosing the colors for a particular scene if you don’t mind me asking?

I'm not sure if you want the emotional answer or technical so I'll just go with how I know how to answer art questions:

First I have a set color scheme for the flat colors. This doesn't change, but the coloring i do on top of that does. For example: human Bowser has set flat colors that have not changed since page one. But as I learned new techniques I changed the effects/mapping i add on top of it.

I learned a lot of different coloring techniques between pages one and the current pages. At first i was nervous to change how I colored the comic and I had a LOT of new things I wanted to try and was worried people would be upset at the drastic coloring change. But thankfully all the feedback has been positive.

After I do flat colors I then will choose various color gradient overlays that I feel suit the mood of the page/panel. I like to use a lot of dark-to-soft-light overlays to add depth to the base colors. I also sometimes add gradient mapping, which is a art technique where a set gradient is added on top that drastically changes the tones. I usually put this layer at a super low opacity so its just a hint of change.

For lighting I currently love added bursts of light where i can, and then softening the colors of the line layer to make it look like the light bleeds over. Some softer glowing effects also help with this.

A big change i also did since the beginning of the comic is I now soften the line layer and color layers to give it that 'dreamy' look.

For the emotional side of things, when I pick colors my attempt is to think of what color pallet fits the mood/environment. I'm still learning when it comes to coloring (it's a weak point of mine for sure) but everytime i think i learn something new that will help with a scene I'm doing I try it out now.

One of the biggest things I'm doing right now is watching a lot of youtube videos on comic storytelling/layout/coloring to really try my best to get better.

I have a obsessive disorder/condition so I often need to be doing something with my hands. Either gaming, cleaning, or drawing. So I currently draw 3-4 hours a day after work (while listening to music or youtube) to keep myself occupied or I get antsy. It's why I tend to look like i work 'fast'. I'm not really fast at drawing, but I draw every day, and certain scenes/characters are second nature now when drawing.

I still make a lot of mistakes and have a ton of weaknesses but I'm loving drawing this comic a lot so I'm doing my best to fill in my knowledge gaps as I go. Clip Studio also has a ton of amazing assets/tutorials that really help and I highly recommend the program, especially if you struggle with perspective.

I hope this answers your question and wasn't too long winded 😭

[v3nusxsky]

I'm so sorry for the multiple requests it just hasn't been a fun time recently and your fics are such comfort reads <3

If you don't mind could I please request a lesso x dovey x ever reader fic where r has been struggling with an eating disorder and nobody is aware but their ed gets worse around holidays/big events where there's lots of people/food. Maybe they find r crying on the floor of a bathroom with blood on their mouth from throwing after a fancy dinner? But I'm giving you full control of the plot so feel free to completely ignore my suggestion I just really need some fluff in there, thank you so much!

Let us help you| h&c

*Authors note~ my darling here you gooooo*

Trigger warning~ Ed

Prompt~ see ask^^^^^

✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭

Of course it would get worse now, it was just typical really. You tired your hardest to get better, to heal, but the negative thoughts wouldn’t leave you. Taunting you every time the could. You hated the idea of seeing your body, nothing fit well enough and you just felt as if you were too skinny or too fat. There’s no middle for you. Most the days it was too fat so you’d reduce your intake of food, often eating for appearances and then forcing yourself to throw the food up when you returned to the safety of your dorm.

The schools for good and evil always held an annual ball, where you’d have some nice food and dance until your feet hurt, typically for the Evers it was the night you found your partner for the summer ball. For the Nevers it was an opportunity to spike the punch and cause some mischief. Your girlfriend Leonora, and her friend Dovey were constant in your life. Leonora often asked Clarissa to keep an eye on you when you were in her half of the school as she knew kids could be cruel to you. Both women had become worried about you recently so you knew how important it was to keep the pretence up.

The food came and your panic rose, truly you didn’t know how you’d get through the meal, but you did. Small bites and taking your time you managed to finish the plate. Only when everyone began to dance did you slip away.

In tears, you made your way to your dorm, guilt eating away at your stomach as the thoughts got louder. Impossibly loud, all you could do was whimper for them to stop. You needed them to go away. The only way to make them go was to get rid of the food and you knew that, but you didn’t want to upset your Nora. You wanted to get better for her.

You were busy, you didn’t hear the two women enter the dorm, after your disappearance from the ball the instantly became worried and set off to find you. You just wanted them to stop. Your choked sobs combined with the wrenching sounds coming from your bathroom were a dead giveaway that that’s where you were and what you were doing.

“Oh dove!” Leonora murmured coming to move your hair back from your face only to spot the specks of blood on your lips. “No no no need to get it gone” you whimpered attempting to urge again only to be stopped by Clarissa, “oh no no it’s okay let’s move away okay?”

“Sweetheart you’re bleeding please!” Leonora pleaded with you which caused your heart to shatter as you broke down in tears. “N n Nora a s orry want them stop” you whimpered throwing yourself in her arms. “Darling, it’s okay we aren’t mad at you” dovey murmured as Leonora stroked your hair and rocked you soothingly. “Don’t apologise love it’s okay, let us help you.” Lesso mumbled pressing kisses to your head. A simplistic nod was all they were given before exhaustion took over.

[1moreff-creator]

Happy Birthday Ace Markey!

And happy Halloween! Seems like the character most afraid of everything that moves got the spooky holiday as a birthday! What a silly guy.

Anyways, even though my DRDT’s a bit rusty, I’ll still give a half-baked analysis, fun facts and songs!

(Do keep in mind character analysis is subjective, though!)

-Ace is very unhappy with his life. That much is obvious, as he’s deeply afraid of horses, yet he’s still forced to become the Ultimate Jockey for reasons not yet completely clear.

-He’s claimed his fear diminishes when the time comes for a race, because the thought of losing is scarier than horses to him. That still means he doesn’t practice horse-riding at all, though.

-The constant stress he’s under has even caused his hair to start greying (stated in a QnA), although he dyes it maroon.

-This same stress is likely the reason he always seems to be in fight-or-flight mode. He keeps pretending like he wants to fight people, trying to intimidate them in some way to make himself appear tougher than he is, but always cowers when someone actually tries to take him up on the offer.

-This only gets worse after Levi, the only person Ace had begun to really trust in the killing game, threatens to kill him in the first trial. Ace makes the decision not to trust anyone in the game from that point, which causes him to become even more hostile to compensate for and hide his growing distress.

-Specifically, he begins severely bullying Nico, probably in part because he got Nico's secret and thought he could use that to have power over them. See, if there's one thing Ace really wants, it's control over his situation, seeing as most of his life he's been doing things he doesn't actually want to do. He sees bullying Nico and pushing everyone away as a way of achieving this.

-This ends up exploding when Nico tries to kill him in the gym. Because regardless of what exactly you believe happened there, Nico did admit to trying to take Ace's life. However, Ace's reaction is very different from what we would have expected from him in chapter 1. While before he would have been terrified of Nico and stayed away from them, like he originally did with Xander, now he went out of his way to try and attack Nico even while bleeding pretty profusely. Presumably he's still scared as all hell, but the idea is that by this point he doesn't want his fear to control his actions. He pushes through the fear, like he does while racing, to do what he actually wants to do.

-This is also presumably also why he keeps insulting Nico the day after, and why he returns to the gym (depending on the theory) the night after. He's done being controlled by fear, so he covers it up with as much aggression and petty defiance as he can.

CW Eating disorders

-His motive secret is "Your body is falling apart, but you still refuse to eat." As Veronika mentions, this is possibly because there are strict weight requirements for jockeys. It's also possible this is why his profile states he likes mint, since that can disguise the smell caused by the vomiting associated with certain eating disorders, such as bulimia.

CW Over

-I've implied it before, but his birthday possibly lands on Halloween because fear is a major part of his character.

-The roman numeral associated with him in the LGI MV is V (5), with the phrase "right now, why do you go insane?"

Presumably because he can act kinda crazy at times.

There are also two pieces of bg text.

A cat has 9 additional lives

Presumably because he almost died in the gym, so he has "multiple lives."

I am but mad north-northwest. When the wind is  southerly, I know a hawk from a hand saw.

This is a quote from Hamlet (big surprise, I know), where Hamlet claims he's only "mad north-northwest", or rather, only mad on ocassion. Hamlet claims to still have control of his faculties, being able to tell apart a hawk from a hand saw (another bird), a friend from an enemy. For Ace, that means that while he appears crazy at times, he still considers himself in control of hs faculties, still able to see that everyone around him is an enemy (<- he's wrong but he considers himself right).

For some more fun facts:

-The scar on his face comes from jockeying.

-Canonically gay. Unsurprisingly /j

-He likes mint, which is presumably why he smells of menthol... as well as sweat.

-He likes healthy food, and he likes wearing sporty clothes.

-His favorite colors are dark blue and purple, but he refuses to say why. His least favorite color is titian, which is the color of his hair, because he doesn't like himself.

-When asked for his favorite ice cream flavor, he says it's frozen bananas. Not ice cream, actual frozen bananas.

-Like most of the cast, he's right-handed and American.

-He has nine siblings and once had a friend named Taylor.

-He wears heels, as he wishes he was taller most of the time. However, when it comes to jockeying, he'd actually rather be shorter. My guy can't win.

Finally songs that remind me of him:

+Appetite of a People-Pleaser by Ghost & Pals (CW for eating disorders. This song almost feels like it was written for him actually)

+Yesman by NILFRUITS (I think this is his character playlist song, but who knows)

+Reform by QueenPB

+Copycat by CircusP

+God-ish by PinnochioP

+Exorcism by CreepP (CW Abuse, this works with Ace when abstracted a bit)

+Lost One's Weeping by Neru.

+The Things I Deserve by Ghost & Pals (CW suicide)

+Self-Proclaimed Angel by VocaloKAT (this one's on vibes alone)

And Happy Birthday! Happy Halloween also! Take care!

[astranite]

Edges of the Universe: Part 2

Scott and John :)

Part 1 // Ao3

The tags in summary: Hurt/Comfort, this is what it is fundamentally but we do dive into the angst and the fluff, Autistic John Tracy, Scott Tracy has ADHD, Scott Tracy Has PTSD, Autistic meltdowns, References to Depression, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Chronic Illness, that's how i'm treating John's space issues, this is all written from a disability and neurodiversity lens and lot of my own experience, there's alot going on but there's also alot of love here, and acceptance, its about hope its always about hope ultimately, things are hard and they wont just fix themselves but it does get better, we just have to keep hanging on. all of us you and me together, its not a straight line there are alot of up and downs and emotions in this fic, as in life and everything because thats whats its like but its not impossible

@idontknowreallywhy thank you for all.

---

“You alright?” Scott asked, “And I’ve brought takeaway if you’re feeling up to it.” 

“‘S only a headache,” John mumbled.

Scott’s hand gripped his shoulder more firmly. “Seems like some headache, Johnny.”

“Don’t.” 

John couldn't handle even the gentle ribbing right now. Or Scott needling him about what the hell was wrong with him to make him admit to it, which was pretty hypocritical coming from Commander ‘I’m actively bleeding out but I’m Fine.’

John sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. That wasn't fair on Scott. He was getting better at letting them in when it was needed. All the smothering came from a good place of looking out for little brothers prone to getting themselves into trouble, and John also had a history of being less than honest about exactly how ‘Fine’ he was.

He pushed himself into a sitting position, leaning against the headboard of the bed as the blurry dark crowded in at the corners of his vision at the rush of his blood pressure dropping. Because he, Thunderbird Five, head of communications for IR and an astronaut breaking records for space hours and expertise, had really pushed himself today. Went totally wild with it. He had, he checked his mental notes, landed on Tracy Island yesterday evening, sat in the passenger seat of Tracy One as Scott did all the flying to get here and immediately clocked out as soon as they got to the hotel. Then attempted to attend a meeting today. Wild, he bit out in sharp, sarcastic thoughts. Maybe that ignored the busy week he’d already pushed through. Even if he usually had to rest the day after the rough descent down from orbit because that was what his body needed and that was meant to be okay.

John reached over to flick on one of the bedside lamps to make it easier on Scott. He squinted in the brightness but it was better than the main light. In the background was the rustle of biodegradable bags and the distinctive snap of takeaway containers being opened: Chinese, from the place he and Scott had really liked the last time they were here, predictable so he wouldn't have to deal with trying something new.

Objectively, the food smelled good but John’s stomach turned. He spent several amusing minutes poking at his noodles, trying to figure out whether it was merely his usual space issues or he was coming down with something.

Scott bumped his shoulder ever so gently. “I got the not too spicy ones for you in case you weren’t feeling so good.”

“Thanks, Scott.” John’s voice came tiny and squeezed out. 

He picked up a mouthful and they were okay, it was him that was at the point of so hungry he was nauseous, and Scott had realised that he hadn't had lunch or dinner and made sure to bring back food John would like. Because he was thoughtful and he cared, and John had the best big brother so why did that make him want to cry?

They ate in silence. Companionable silence. It was kinda nice actually, just sharing space with Scott.

John did not cry all over his brother and his noodles. He would’ve gotten his tablet to read on and distract himself except he’d need his glasses which were in his bag, though he could turn up the font size, except the headache made staring into a bright screen currently unpalatable, so the entire point was moot.

He tipped his head back, resting it on the wall, then turned to Scott.

Scott had scoffed his entire meal far too quickly, shovelling noodles into his mouth with his set of chopsticks, whilst scrolling on his phone. Hair falling out of its careful gelling, top buttons of his blue business shirt undone, meeting out of the way and laughing at something inane, he seemed far more relaxed than this morning. Share space with Scott was nice because he too rarely got to.

John looked away. He pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping an arm around them, rocking slightly before it made him too dizzy. He stared off around the room, mostly to keep himself from giving in to the urge to worry at the numb, hollow wound in his thoughts. To map out its shape and form, going over it like the hole left by a pulled tooth. To not drag himself into a John classic overthinking spiral, and attempt to ground himself or whatever. 

The room. Too much beige. Carpet, curtains, walls, really what were they thinking? 

John liked colour. He’d chosen the stripes running throughout Thunderbirds Five and his bright orange baldric with the matching narrower lines through his uniform on purpose. They broke up the monotony of whites and greys space stations were far too prone to and he soaked it up, everything from the stickers and few books in his little room to the colour coded holotabs that displayed each of his siblings’ vitals. Bright and vivid, they reminded him of alive, alive, alive. 

Here, even the abstract painting was nearly monochrome. Virgil would have a lot to say but John could only muster a vague disgust towards it. Or maybe it was mostly his mood turning to harshly critical.The place was nice enough, clean and neat, nearest to TI. They didn't need fancy. 

Hints of the darkened evening view shone through the gaps between the curtains in the form of city lights. John had watched the sunset in hours previous briefly paint the dimness of the room through slitted eyelids. 

There had been the colour he wanted, but he’d ignored it instead of opening the curtains up to the light like he usually would in lieu of visible stars. He had stared at the wall, drifting in his thoughts amongst the achy pain and exhaustion instead of choosing to do literally anything else.

And here he was overthinking, doing exactly what he wasn't supposed to be doing. Fantastic job, John.

Doors to the hallway and bathroom, both shut, John listed. Lamp on Scott’s bedside table, dark grey, not black, switched off.

The blue blanket Scott brought everywhere lay as a bright splash on top of the covers of Scott’s bed, a familiar sight no matter where they were.

They didn't have to share a room, with the large beds on each side where John took the one nearest the window under claim it would be better for the stargazing he wouldn't do because of the light pollution but would make Scott edgy from feeling too exposed and too far from the exits. His brother’s face had crumpled in relief before he’d gleefully bounced on his bed like he was totally still five, as John laughed with him. 

With their money they could easily afford two, could get the frankly a waste of money whole penthouse suite of rooms, but they didn't need to. And it was nice to be close.

He and Scott hadn't regularly shared a room since before Alan had been born, and John was fully aware that as adults it would drive them both mad within a week, but on the occasional business trip or even rarer holiday, it was nice. Waking up disorientated and jet lagged in the middle of last night, he’d fallen back to sleep to big brother’s calm, even breathing. Plus Scott could look over and reassure himself at least John was here and okay, as substitute for checking in on all his little brothers before he turned in.

…it had actually been a bit after Alan had been born that the rooms had been shuffled. When it had been Mum and Dad and baby Allie he had to sneak past to go stargaze outside for a few months until Alan was big enough and got the cot, sharing a room with Gordon. Then it was him and Virgil so Scott as the eldest, encouraged by Dad, could have his own room. 

Virgil was a lot quieter and less prone to dragging him into crazy schemes, and John had loved sharing a room with him, of course he did, but something had still ached as he helped take Scott’s aeroplane posters down from between his glow in the dark stars to put them up on bare blue walls that smelt of new paint. Virgil had never woken up when John went to stargaze, no matter what he tripped over or how much he swore, so he never came with him on those forbidden midnight trips either. Scott had. 

But after Mum, because John was evidently all for following miserable trains of thought tonight, Scott technically had still shared a room with them. Just when no one, especially Dad, would notice. John had woken up to the door opening after everyone else was asleep each night to Scott tiptoeing in to curl up on the floor between his and Virgil’s beds, wrapped in the blue baby blanket that had been Allie’s until it was put away but had originally been knitted by Mum for Scott.

John had always shuffled over to make room for Scott beside him. Scott shouldn’t be alone, he wasn't meant to be alone but everyone had known that evidently except for Dad. He’d always woken up at dawn when Scott left too…

Scott’s hand back on his shoulder startled him, and between the flinch he barely processed the worried, “Earth to John?” 

A wave of dizziness hit and John buried his head in his knees. 

“Sorry,” John mumbled.

“No apologies needed.”

Scott gently took the container of noodles out of his hand which he was holding and had kinda forgotten about, even as the pointed edges dug into his palm. John’d only managed half of his before he had to put it aside. Maybe later, if he got over the nausea. 

Scott held out an arm, giving John the option of being pulled into a hug. He swallowed and shuffled closer, then leant against Scott. 

[veetyuh]

Vent post to ramble about intersex issues.

Honestly I'm just now starting to feel intersex on an emotional level, despite having known for years. It has taken so much time to start working through the shame and sense of powerlessness built up over a decade, because the medical system is so fucking violent toward intersex people for NO reason.

Beyond forced "corrective" surgery — that's the big one everyone is aware of. Allowing parents to force their newborn through a sex change. Literally doing the hyperbolic conservative's worst nightmare about trans people and everyone's just fucking fine with it. But aside from that.

Since I was a sweaty, awkward teen with a five o'clock shadow, I've been told, "FEMALE‼️ DEFECTIVE FEMALE‼️ YOU WANT SURGERY FOR BABY⁉️ 👶 WE WILL GIVE YOU SURGERY FOR BABY, AND MAYBE HORMONES TO MAKE YOU LESS MANISH‼️"

I've told my doctor, my parents, any adult who asked, point blank, I never want children and would rather drink bleach than incubate one. But it's always, "You're still young, you might want that option in the future." As if I'm not enthralled with my infertility, as if pregnancy is the end goal of every female, as if I'm female to begin with.

And the shame of being classed as a disorder. One that so few doctors have seen that specialists have treated me like a lab experiment, and one even asked me to induce menstruation and come in while I'm bleeding so he can poke around. AFTER admitting that he didn't know what was going on down there. Just. "I'll have to refer you to a different specialist, but can you come in while you're bleeding so I can see what happens between your legs when there's ✨blood✨ involved?"

Or staring at the M/F boxes on ANY intake form, trying to decide which one is less humiliating. What kind of comedic relief do I want to be perceived as: a femboy who is uncommitted to the aesthetic, or a comedically masc woman like Doris from Shrek? I can count the number of times I've seen "other" or "intersex" listed as an option on one hand. And I can't describe the relief of being able to check it. It's beyond words, just to be fucking acknowledged — to have any sort of implication that my existence isn't supposed to be something else, and that my natural state is not fucked-up, or a failure.

But why is it okay for a doctor to push gender "correction" onto any intersex person, minors included, then turn around and act like trans healthcare is such a big fucking deal?? It's okay to shove progesterone into my hands despite me NOT FUCKING WANTING IT, but god forbid any transfemme person asks for it. Moreover, god forbid I ask for top surgery. It's fine for them to change my sex on my behalf, so long as fertility is the end goal: but if I want to modify my body on my own terms, then it's, "Are you sure??? Are you SURRRRE about that???"

God I HATE the medical system, I hate the insistence on a false two sex binary, and I hate troglodyte conservatives who harp on about middle school biology because they're mentally stunted and permanently at the age of 12 — when they're the same ones that bullied me in middle school so they should KNOW intersex people exist.

I miss being pre-pubescent, going into the doctor's office and knowing that my pediatrician had my best interest at heart. Even if it was shots, or gross medicine, or whatever, I knew that it was for healing me, and I could at least trust that. Now I go into a doctor's office and it feels like a fucking warzone, fight-or-flight is engaged, and I can't help but question their intent.

But the few moments when I do feel intersex? When I don't feel like a defective perisex person? It's beyond description. Being able to have a box to check off. Seeing descriptions of intersex people in history, and knowing that we used to have a place in society. When shame has been beaten into you, having it removed even for a second is a joy beyond words. 🥲

[observeowl]

Temperature N.R

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: R hides a disorder from Natasha and she finds out in a mission together

Natasha POV Every day I would watch Y/N leave the bed early and head to the medical bay to take her temperature before coming back to cuddle with me. Same goes for the night. She would also be the most careful about her wound, checking through after every mission which was odd. Most people would be stubborn and not head to Bruce for help. It is really nice to think she takes care of her wound but at times I think that is too excessive. 

We were coming back from a mission when I saw her bleeding from her side but she was sitting fine as if nothing had happened. “Babe! You’re bleeding!” She looked down and touched her side and looked at her blood filled hands. I rushed to her and placed pressure on her wound as I ordered Steve to fly the quinjet faster. 

“Do you not feel anything?” I raised my voice as I panicked. She shook her head. The pool of blood was getting bigger, the pain should have set in by now and even with me placing pressure on her wound, she did not flinch or wince. She looked as if it was a normal day.

Even when Bruce was stitching her up, she had a normal expression on her face. “Bruce, she’s not under local anesthesia or anything!” 

“I know.” He replied.

“What? Am I missing something?” Clearly I am here. “I’m her girlfriend, I deserve to know.” I pushed him further.

“Stop Nat. I told him not to say anything.” She was awake the entire time we had the conversation.

“You’re scaring me, you know that?” She patted the bed and I got in with her.

“I have Congenital Analgesia which is insensitivity to pain. I can feel the pressure but not the pain.” She explained.

“What? You should have told me something this important!” I can’t believe she was hiding something this big from me. “That’s very dangerous.”

“That’s why I didn’t tell you. You would go all protective and-”

“THAT’S BECAUSE I DON’T WANT TO LOSE YOU! I WANT YOU HERE WITH ME, ALIVE. NOT DEAD! YOU COULD HAVE DIED, Y/N AND I WOULDN’T KNOW WHY.” I shouted “Don’t you trust me?” before leaving the room.

“Nat!”

Your POVI didn’t want her to figure out like this but I guess fate had other plans. I have lived with it for my entire life. I know how to take care of myself and I didn’t want to burden Natasha. I stayed in the medical bay for a while before walking into the living room. 

“Has anybody seen Nat?” I questioned Tony, Steve and Wanda. 

“No. Did you guys fight?” Wanda shook her head. 

“I guess you can say that.” I replied softly. I searched the training room, our room and around the compound but I just couldn’t find her anywhere. I was going to give up when I remembered there’s one place I haven’t checked, the roof. 

“You think it’s fun making me look around the compound for you?” I said as I took a seat next to her. Nat took a glance at me before looking back to the horizon. 

“Do you not trust me?” 

“I didn’t know how I was supposed to tell you. You know even telling you I don’t like the movie takes a lot out of me.” I expressed. 

“I know. But I feel like it’s such a huge thing that I felt like I deserve to know.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Let’s go. I don’t want you falling sick on me now.” Nat stood up and dusted herself off before picking me up. Despite weighing almost the same, she picks me up easily each time. I wrapped my arms around her neck as she brought us to our room. Or so I thought. 

“Why did you bring me here?” I asked as she put me down on the medical bay bed. 

“To take your temperature.” She simply stated.

Tears welled up inside your eyes. No one has ever volunteered to help me after learning about  my condition. “What happened? Are you feeling alright? Uh.. No you can’t feel…” You shake your head and wipe your tears and hug Nat. 

“Everyone leaves me after finding out I can’t feel pain.” I mumbled into her chest. She patted me before lifting my head to look at her.

“I’m not going to leave you baby. I am going to make sure you don’t get hurt and if you do, notice it earlier.” Nat assured me. She took my temperature before bringing me to our room. 

“I love you.” I said as I snuggled into her neck. 

“I love you too. Sleep properly. I don’t want to wake up to a blood filled bed.” I pouted before laying straight on bed. She leans over to kiss my forehead before saying. “Don’t leave me alone in bed tomorrow.” 

[minorisato]

if at all possible, please spare me the pain

slashers, dead by daylight / ghostmyers / wc: 843 / warnings: explicit s-lf h-rm, s-icidal thoughts, homicide, unhealthy coping mechanisms / notes: old vent fic

Danny just has this… habit.

He’s never been diagnosed, nor does he ever want to be, but he’s pretty sure it’s something like a personality disorder. Even in his own (very biased) opinion, he can admit he’s unstable by normal-person standards, and he has an anger problem, and he doesn’t care that he has an anger problem, which actually makes it a lot worse, in a roundabout way.

When it’s bad, he’ll stab something, preferably something that can die, and he’ll throw things, and slam doors, and he’ll flail and move and move, anything just to get it out of his system. When it’s really bad, he’ll cut himself, and imagine the anger flowing out with his blood. Then, of course, when it’s really, really bad–

 “Just once. Just once, please. I need to bleed it out,” he’d say, happily on his knees in front of Michael. “I need to bleed it out, the ones I give myself aren’t enough. Please, Michael, I know you can give me one good one.”

Michael, then, with his emotions as hard to discern as ever, would give him a great one. Danny would routinely wake up an hour or so later, new wound scarred over, hurting like hell. Then he’d lock himself into one of the many rooms of the Myers’ house and cry until he couldn’t anymore. This process could range from anywhere between fifteen minutes and two hours. Then he’d come out, smug and haughty, and pretend none of it ever happened in the first place.

Michael, of course, was a self-motivated man. Danny was too, so it’s not like he blamed the larger. Having an infinite amount of Danny’s to kill repeatedly– all while he was begging for it, he wanted it, wanted to die, like an addict– didn’t seem to bother him in any way.

Which always led Danny to question; what’s up with the crying and isolating? Both of them were getting what they wanted, but every single time, he’d end up sobbing until he puked, and then sobbing more. He was getting what he wanted, he was giving Michael what he wanted. His anger was gone, just replaced by soul-crushing sadness. Why? Why was he like this? Why did he get so overwhelmingly angry? Why did he need to die to get it all out? Why can’t he be fucking normal? Why did he even kill in the first place? Why is he so insistent on being unhappy?

He’d always ask himself these questions, curled in on himself, imagining a life where he actually could be normal– it was almost unfathomable, but the idea of a normal job, normal family, normal life, it tugged at his heartstrings. This, too, he’d beat himself up over. He chose this. He did it because it was the only thing that made him feel alive and he ran with it because it was a high like no other. He was well past the point of no return. There was no normalcy waiting for him.

Little cuts were never enough. Big cuts, stabs, too, were starting to not be enough.

Maybe if he was really nice, bargained with the Entity enough, she’d loosen her grip, and he could go, could die, for real this time–

A loud bang hit the door, and Danny jumped at the sudden noise. He didn’t answer, he couldn’t. He didn’t trust his own voice. Michael would go away eventually. After all, what did he care?

Another bang. Then another.

Danny stared, sniffling, as the door shook. Another.

Then the latch broke.

“Wait,” Danny’s throat let out, before the rest of him could catch up. Realization was very suddenly dawning on him that a wooden door would not stop a 6’7” man who’s favourite hobby is murder. “Wait, wait, wait, please don’t come in, please–”

But Michael is a self-motivated man, and he doesn’t stop when teen girls beg him, he doesn’t stop when nurses beg him, or survivors, or Danny. The shorter doesn’t have time to find where he threw his mask, doesn’t have time to cover his face at all, can’t gather himself together, as Michael Myers waits for no one.

Danny wants to yell at him, wants to curse him out, wants to demand solitude, he wasn’t done wallowing, but he doesn’t get a chance before he’s yanked backwards, yelping, pulled into Michael’s grip. Said grip is frighteningly tight, some imitation of a hug, of genuine intimacy. Danny’s still crying. He can feel his ribs bruising. He cries harder at the implication of Michael sparing him any care or thought.

Michael takes them to the floor like that, still holding Danny in that kind-of-hug. They’re cuddling. They’re cuddling, as though they’re an actual normal couple, as though Michael didn’t stab Danny through his chest less than two hours ago.

Between his sobs, Danny actually laughs. It’s awful. Everything is awful. There's something wrong with him, deeply, intrinsically, unfixable. There is no normalcy waiting for him.

He buries his face into Michael’s neck. This is close enough, for now.

[scorchedhearth]

imma hit you with a question myself RN!!

I think you mentioned an oc that you thought of and created more as not a part of a story or a narrative but more of as something to reflect yourself onto. I would love to hear more about them<333

also also tell me about Trent and him being pyromaniac!!! i think you mentioned that he's trans so do those two things like connect to each other in any way???

rye thank U!! mwAH xo

alright so. the oc ur thinking of that i mentioned in the post ended up way too clear of a mirror for me to comfortably talk about him in public but, in the meantime, seeing just how fun those kinds of meaningless ocs are, another crept up on me and she is SO fun u have no idea.

she's basically a frankeinstein monster of all the tropes i think are cool as hell, she's a knight turned rogue-slash-mercenary, she's covered head to toe in armor and the rare time she loses the helmet the armor still comes up to her chin and she's ugly, disfigured by a tough life and many battle-earned scars (no pretty face hidden under a helmet here, and she's in her late forties), she's in the possession of a sentient weapon that is craving blood and violence and is always in a frenzied state of rage like no being in the universe could and she uses it to draw blood for her own revenge, she's what i wish all those 'please kill me' scenes in media ended with: while held captive with her brother, he begged her to kill him before they could and she did and they stopped her from killing herself and so now she has to live knowing she took her own blood's life and she's left alone in the world feeling so guilty she did as she was asked to.

also, she exists in a schodinger's cat state of both being a high fantasy rogue knight AND a sci-fi rogue soldier where her weapon is both a big sword and a cool gun and her armor is both a knight's armor and a space suit and her ride is both a big horse and a derelict bike. and she wants revenge on an old flame (obsessive love she swore fidelity to decades ago) who directly caused her brother's death. she's so gruff and mean and exhausted by life itself and still she clings and keeps on going out of spite and honor. she's great <3

as for trent, yeah!! they do, and in a major way! trent was at first conceived many years ago as part of an x-men-like plot with super-powered kids and his big discovery of firepowers was linked to coming out to his parents and blowing up the whole family home when it went wrong out of grief and anger. now as a very normal guy, they're still linked for me.

he started feeling something was wrong in his late childhood but had no way to word or understand what was happening to him, and his background in a struggling family with many siblings meant that he couldn't come out with what was wrong with him, be it being trans or any other problems young kids have (issues at school where he had troubles learning, for example) because they were more important issues at hand than his own, so he internalized things a lot and when it eventually came to a breaking point for him, he used fire to bleed out the wounds. pyromania is an impulse control disorder, arsonists set things on fire for a reason (glory, money, revenge, etc) where the distinction here is made is that pyromaniacs use fire as a way to release stress or soothe themselves, which is exactly what trent did, and still does.

trent is characterized by being withdrawn and intense, and so fire is the one instance where he lets things out. he cannot verbalize things well, nor can he confront or work things out on his own, so when the frustration boils over (because he is hot-headed and opinionated, despite his quiet behavior) he gets the urge to set things on fire. it was harder to deal with it as a teen with his family around, and with little to no control over his life, but as an adult now he can go burn things whenever he needs to. he never saw a psychiatrist for it, doesn't think there's something wrong with him for that, he only got caught once as a teen and passed it off as a dare he did with friends, he doesn't know how many wider fire he caused because of his activity but it happened more than once when burning bigger fire. i somehow always conceptualize his relationship with fire and gender to be linked, both because that's how i first came up with the character but also it feels right, that trent hides his identity as best as he can but it always catches up with him, the idea of burning bridges with his family is a strong one with him, as is the contained fire ready to spread if the glass is broken

[jetwhenitsmidnight]

Death's Country by R. M. Romero

Publisher: Peachtree Teen

Source: NetGalley ARC

Release date: 7 May 2024

Genre: young adult magical realism

If you like:

Modern day retellings (Orpheus and Eurydice)

MFF romance

Novels written in verse

Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐/5

Synopsis

Andres Santos of São Paulo was all swinging fists and firecracker fury, a foot soldier in the war between his parents. Until he drowned in the Tietê River… and made a bargain with Death for a new life. A year later, his parents have relocated the family to Miami, but their promises of a fresh start quickly dissolve in the summer heat. 

Instead of fists, Andres now uses music to escape his parents’ battles. While wandering Miami Beach, he meets two girls, photographer Renee, a blaze of fire, and dancer Liora, a ray of sunshine. The three become a polyamorous triad, happy, despite how no one understands their relationship. But when a car accident leaves Liora in a coma, Andres and Renee are shattered. 

Then Renee proposes a radical solution: She and Andres must go into the underworld to retrieve their girlfriend’s spirit and reunite it with her body—before it’s too late. Their search takes them to the City of the dead, where painters bleed color, songs grow flowers, and regretful souls will do anything to forget their lives on earth. But finding Liora’s spirit is only the first step in returning to the living world. Because when Andres drowned, he left a part of himself in the underworld—a part he’s in no hurry to meet again. But it is eager to be reunited with him...

Content warnings

Death

Emotional abuse

Car accident

References to eating disorders

Past self-harm

Medical content

References to war

Review

Thank you to NetGalley for an ARC in exchange for an honest review! ☠️🎸

Going into this, I hadn't expected this to be written in verse, which is on me; I didn't read the synopsis properly.

That being said, I was rather pleasantly surprised! I am not one to read novels written in verse, as I find that the pacing or the style in general reads strangely. However, in Death's Country, the author does a great job, in that the story flows well, regardless, or perhaps because, of the writing style. There was so much story fit into this book, considering the fact that there are less words than typically would be in a full-length novel. The writing was excellent, every word was fully utilised such that I felt every moment of the characters' emotional journey.

The way each character's arc was handled, alongside their growing relationship was sooo good, the author gives each character their own screentime to develop, and also twines it together with their love story. I think teens would find this cast of characters relatable, especially with all the obstacles and uncertainty they face, which are real and prevalent issues today. I also liked how the book doesn't just provide a clean solution to everything, but the characters grow and learn how to manage things in a way that feels more realistic.

I find that this novel also provides a rather age-appropriate exploration of the concept of death, and how different people deal with it, as well as the different perspectives our main cast has about it. This could be an interesting discussion to have with youths about concepts of mortality and the afterlife.

All in all, an excellent read, one that is quite short in terms of word count, but makes a big impact <3

[doberbutts]

Just had my check-in with my endo and:

We are increasing testosterone because my menstrual cycle is being incredibly stubborn, and we still have plenty of wiggle room with my current levels to see if that helps things along.

Discussing top surgery in summer!!!

Since I have had people ask me for pros and cons after 4 months on T:

I have gained weight. I don't really care but I know folks with eating disorders will. Part of it has to be because I'm eating bigger meals more often because I'm constantly hungry and thirsty. Since the end of September I've gained 10lbs. We'll see if that stays steady esp when the weather warms up and I go back to hiking twice a week.

I do have higher blood pressure. This is actually good because due to my POTS/NCAH I have historically very low blood pressure which makes me fatigued and cold and tired all the time. I am no longer fatigued and cold and tired and instead feel energized with good stamina and I haven't had a POTS episode for ages. So... not really a con for me but my doctor still wants to keep an eye on it.

I don't really seem to need Sushi as a service dog anymore. This is the biggest lifestyle adjustment and while it's great it's sort of bittersweet. I've gotten used to having a dog by my side all the time and now I no longer need her except in very specific situations.

Periods unfortunately have still been a thing. The tradeoff is interesting- overall less pain and blood (the last two my coworkers didn't even know I was on, vs me having to call out because I couldn't move due to the severe pain and nausea). But at the same time instead of only lasting 3 days, it lasts a full 7. 7 days of barely-there spotting (like, I don't even need a pad, barely there) vs 3 days of crippling agonizing pain and bleeding through pads hourly... better yes but I want it *gone*

More hair, everywhere. On my face, on my chest, on my ass. Get used to being fuzzy.

More muscles built easier, which again will be interesting to see when I start exercising outside again.

Deeper voice, especially while singing.

Significantly better mental health- my friends and coworkers have commented multiple times that I seem happier and healthier.

TMI FOLLOWING:

As discussed, way higher sex drive. Orgasms are easier to produce, feel stronger/sharper, and have a shorter recovery period before I'm ready to go again.

There is also the problem of dryness. I do not enjoy PIV or really vaginal ANYTHING so I'm pretty okay with the dryness. However the dryness is also causing fluid duct blockage which is causing small, painful cysts on the labia especially after an extended sexual session or when near my cycle. It's NOT an STD (I checked) but it IS caused by microtears and fluid buildup due to atrophy and dryness, and especially because I have a trash immune system that means risk of infection is sky high. The only way to fix is topical estrogen via vaginal suppository, which I am absolutely not doing. So that is a con to consider for those this may concern. I've honestly just sort of managed it with OTC antibiotic ointments but ymmv on how annoying this may get for you.

Bottom growth definitely a thing lol it's uh. Probably about as long and thick as my thumb. Big enough to now be actively in the way when cleaning myself in the shower or wiping after I use the bathroom.

Prior to T I had incredibly sensitive nipples, not in the good sense but in the sense of "ow this T-shirt material feels like it's sandpapering my nipples directly off my chest" and "my boyfriend tried licking my nipple during sex and all I felt was searing hot pain like he'd stabbed me with a sharp knife". That has stopped- and I haven't gained any sexual pleasure to replace it which is fine, but it does mean my nipples don't hurt anymore.