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litnerdwrites · 21 days

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So Nesta might also have second hand trauma...

+ Elain is a hypocrite.

“I went into the Cauldron, too, you know. And it captured me. And yet somehow all you think of is what my trauma did to you.”

This quote has rubbed me the wrong way since I read ACOSF for the first time. I reblogged and responded to a post by @simmanin where I discussed how Elain is a hypocrite for this line, since the IC have never considered what Nesta's trauma did to her. That was one of two thoughts I had regarding this quote, the second being how Nesta's reaction seems completely logical.

I think Nesta's response to Elain wanting to search for the Cauldron to be a form of real trauma caused, not only by her mother, her father's neglect, the cauldron, turning fae, the war and the shit ACOSF put her through, but also the trauma faced by Elain. This is a form of trauma called Secondary traumatic stress disorder.

Secondary trauma is most common in health care workers and mental health professionals, as well as others who help and deal with other people's trauma on the regular. This, to me, makes complete, logical sense. If you're exposed to so many traumatic experiences, even if it isn't directly, on the regular, then it makes sense that your mental health would also suffer for it.

There have been cases in which a person goes through trauma, and their family members, like siblings, develop secondary trauma as a result. Moreover, it's natural for any form of trauma to affect a person's relationships with friends and family, which we see happen to Nesta in how she distances herself from even Elain.

It makes complete sense that Nesta, who has set herself up as Elain's protector their whole life, and acts as more of a mother figure to her, would develop some form of secondary trauma when she almost loses Elain, or watches Elain endure suffering when shoved into the cauldron.

It wouldn't be far fetched for a parent/sibling to develop a form of secondary trauma after almost losing their child/sibling, in an accident or at the hands of another human being. So why is it that nobody considers that Elain's kidnapping caused even more trauma for Nesta.

While I'm not trying to say that it should come before Elain's trauma and experience, it also isn't okay to discount and overlook Nesta's just because her coddling of Elain is considered a bad trait. It isn't good that Elain is coddled like a child, but using it as an excuse to disregard the obvious traits of trauma that Nesta is showing is unfair to her, and just another example of Elain, perhaps unknowingly in regards to secondary trauma, thinking only about Nesta's trauma is doing to her. How she's upset by the way Nesta handles it, rather than considering that Elain's support is the one Nesta needs the most.

Nesta spend her whole life feeling like a failure. To her mother. Her grandmother. To Feyre. To Amren. To the court. Nesta grapples with feelings of self worth and views herself as a failure for being unable to protect those she loves so fiercely, which greatly affects her mental health and is a huge factor in driving her to want to commit suicide. The only thing she didn't feel like she failed at, was protecting Elain. Until the cauldron. Until Hybern. Until they were dragged into a war that Nesta wanted no part of, but got involved with because of Feyre's request and Elain's insistence.

Nesta tried to give to Feyre what Feyre gave to her in that cabin when she allowed her to use their home (despite Feyre's friends accosting her for issues that aren't theirs to address or comment on), and even then, she feels like she failed when the mortal queens turned traitor. Failed to make it up to Feyre, failed to protect her people, and when Hybern came, failed to protect Elain.

Now, for Elain to not only reinforce those negative feelings, but dismiss Nesta's traumas entierly, from the moment the war ended, is cruel. Elain is a hypocrite. She is a hypocrite who was quick to abandon the one person who's been in her corner for her entire life. While there are clearly issues between Elain and Nesta that need to be sorted through, especially in regards to how Elain is coddled and borderline infantilised by her Nesta, discrediting Nesta's trauma, the way she's accused of doing to Elain despite how Nesta sacrificed her own healing just to be by Elain's side and get involved in the war, again, at Feyre's behest, is not how you go about it.

Nesta appears to have a form of secondary trauma that stems from Elain's own traumas, and she's not the only one. I think tamlin's actions stem from a form of secondary trauma from watching how Feyre suffered and died under the mountain. It doesn't make what he did right. It doesn't excuse his actions. Nor does it excuse Feyre's, since one might argue that seeing her sisters dumped into the cauldron gave her a form of secondary trauma too (since Mor mentioned Feyre feeling responsible for what happened in acofs, and wanting to fix all their problems as a result).

However, it does explain them. Much like how Nesta's traumas, first and second hand, explain her actions. That's not to say that an explanation is an excuse. It merely provide a context from which to examine their actions can be examined and create a path to empathy and compassion. Whether they're forgiven and forgotten is entierly up to those affected by their actions (pretty much just Feyre and maybe Elain for the coddling), and in the case of fictional media, audience discretion.

Nesta has certain things she should apologies for (again, to Feyre mostly, and maybe a little bit Elain), I don't disagree with that. However, none of that can happen until Nesta is able to heal.

The quote above is the perfect example of Nesta being denied that, despite the delusion of the IC in thinking that's what ACOSF was about. Her trauma isn't considered valid by the Ic, or even her own sisters, which is why it isn't treated as such.

So to sum it up, yes. Nesta is thinking about what Elain's trauma did to her because it did have a very real affect on her. It caused real trauma that Nesta has to deal with. The dangers faced by Feyre and the entire court, cause her trauma. She suffers with the fear of losing those she loves so fiercely so that her mental health took a swan dive because of that, amongst other reasons. Yet nobody acknowledges that Elain's suffering, real and horrible as it may be, also caused Nesta pain. Hell, they don't acknowledge the pain Nesta's own suffering caused her, much less anybody else's.

Also Elain and the IC just prove that they have no empathy or compassion despite their own traumas being so similar to the hell they're putting Nesta through. Either their traumas weren't traumatising or the cycle of abuse broke the so badly that they can't even recognise the abuse they put others through.

#anti acosf #anti ic #anti inner circle #anti rhysand #pro nesta #nesta deserves better #nesta acotar #anti amren #anti mor #pro nesta archeron #anti elain #anti feyre #anti morrigan #Nesta's trauma needs to be addressed #preferably by a professional #but apparently those are off limits to Nesta for some reason #pro tamlin

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aleck-le-mec · 11 days

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It's wild to me how some able-bodied people only think of disabled culture as a concept and they haven't ever actually experienced it. To me the biggest tell that somebody has never experienced disabled culture is their lack of knowledge about something I call Societal Manufactured Disability Theory.

This theory posits that an aspect of disability is manufactured by societal norms, stigmas and labeling.

People with disabilities like myself will tell you that people do treat you differently based solely upon the fact that you are disabled. When my hand writing is too messy to read do to Dysgraphia people assume I'm not trying hard enough to be neat, and if I'm lazy enough to slack with hand writing I must always be lazy. When I tell people I have Dyslexia they think I'm less intelligent, unable to read or incapable of understanding the written word. When I tell people I have a connective tissue disorder which is an invisible disability they think I'm a liar, scheming to take resources away from "real disabled people".

The societal norm here in America is to push forward, laziness is not an option we see it repeatedly in the rhetoric surrounding young people. News sources constantly talking about how "no one wants to work these days" or "young people are taking everything for granted".

There is a huge stigma around having Dyslexia that most people don't notice. In American society where we have a 79% literacy rate it is expected that you can read, so when you can't or you have trouble people think you have a lower IQ. Dyslexia can be genetic so I'm actually a fourth generation Dyslexic from my dad's side with all of them men being the ones to pass it down. My dad has always said that my great grandfather had no support for his Dyslexia, nobody cared and in fact the term Dyslexia was only coined in 1887. When my dad went to school they attempted to alleviate some of the symptoms of Dyslexia by making him watch his hands as he crawled on the floor, believing that the root of the problem was in a lack of eye coordination. To this day I and many other Dyslexics will avoid talking about our diagnosis because of the stigma behind it. I have had many experiences in my life where as soon as people learn that I am Dyslexic they assume that I can't spell anything or that they need to read everything to me. That's what stigma does, it makes people hide away just so they can live in peace and be respected.

It is extremely common for people with invisible disabilities to be labeled as liars, this is mostly due to a lack of education and representation. The general public's idea of disability is limited, but the truth is that disability is one of the most dynamic aspects of human beings. Invisible and dynamic disabilities make up the majority of disabilities; in fact, 1 out of every 3 Americans is in fact disabled. When people see me, a young, healthy-looking man, they never think I'm disabled. If I tell them I am, they may think I am lying. People generally do not like liars, and having such a label attached to your name can be detrimental to your social integration.

You can see that none of those setbacks I mentioned are symptoms of my disabilities. The perceived deviance, stigma, and labeling are not things you'll find on a medical report. However, they do harm me socially and potentially medically when it comes to stigma; these things disable me. Thus, part of my struggle as a disabled person is manufactured by society itself, in the norms we hold and the way we treat others.

I have come to that conclusion repeatedly, as have almost every other disabled person. It's a conclusion that is often reached in the community as a whole. However, it is in able-bodied culture where these stigmas, labels, and perceived attacks originate. So, if someone is completely averse to accepting the Societal Manufactured Disability Theory, it suggests that they have probably never fully been a part of any aspect of disability culture.

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ghastlybirdie · 4 months

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I have an anxiety disorder so I have frequent dreams that are filled with fear and anxiety inducing elements. These usually wake me up since they border nightmare and even night terror territory if it’s bad enough. Usually, I just hear things like whispers or knocking as I fall asleep. This is based off of the other night.

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cw: stalking, mentions of anxiety, noncon touching, implied sexual tension (if you squint maybe?), not beta read, tell me if I need to add more

a/n: I’ve been drinking a lot of wine and I can’t stop thinking about a face I kept seeing while I was trying to sleep the other night so here is Ghost being weird

—

The closet is a doorway to hell. It’s true. It has to be. It’s the only logical reasoning and the only explanation to the ghastly face that peers at you through the crack in the sliding doors.

It’s been staring at you through two black holes in its face, or what you could only make out as a face. Your glasses rested on the nightstand and your body was solid, your brain unable to send the right signals to even pry your eyes off the closet doors let alone move your arms.

It’s been five minutes. Or an hour. Two seconds? A day, perhaps, since you saw it looking back at you. This face. It’s impossibly tall, somehow peering down at you from the very top of the doorway, still as a tree and looming in its eerie presence. But this isn’t the first time you saw this thing. This face. This skeletal face.

Sometimes it appears as a shadow in your bathroom when the lights are off, teasing you to enter as it stood still in your shower. Tempting you to try and enter. See what happens. You never try.

It’s leaned over entry ways and stood at the end of the hall, all as a way to watch you. It was the shadow in the corner of your bedroom at night, escaping when you hastily switch a lamp on. It was a whisper as you were falling asleep, gently calling your name next to your ear, never to be seen when you shot up in bed, heart ever racing. It made you wake up in the middle of a deep sleep, sheets rustling and cold digits reaching for your feet despite you wearing socks and tucking them away. It saw in the back of your dresser, eyes dark and endless as it stared back at you, waiting for something. Waiting for you. Watching you. Seeing you grow anxious and tired. Just like now.

You refused to peel your eyes away from the eyes that watched you, the skeletal face looking back at you, though you hardly watched for dominance. No. You were crying. You’re tired. You’re weak from sleepless nights and your reprieves from your own home lasted such a short time that it was agonizing just walking through the doors. You knew what was waiting for you. Knew what was hoping for your return. Itching for your presence while you dreaded its. A ghost. Your ghost. Your nightmare.

You were paralyzed. Still. Mind betraying your body as the closet door creaked open slowly, a skeleton hand having wrapped its bony fingers against it, pushing its way to you. To your selfless body.

It was tall. Broad. And clothed. It had clothes. The skeletal face was a mask, worn paint fading in spots on the mask that drapped the head and shoulders. It wore a thick sweater and cargo pants, all as black as the shadows that crowd the dark room around you.

The bed dipped around you as the figure climbed overtop of you, heavy breathing wisping down to your face, a shuddering whimper escaping your clamped mouth.

It whispered your name, the same way your sleepy delusions have done timeless nights before, your blood cold in your veins as the cotton mask brushed against your cheek, labored breaths tickling your ear.

Something grazed your thighs, something hard, and another whimper left behind your teeth, tears flooding your pillow and ears, mind unable to decipher broken commands you tried shouting to it, rough words breaking through as the figure moved the last defense your bed could provide, blankets falling away and leaving your body exposed to your ghost. Your ghost that press skeleton hands and skeleton lips against your skin, lifting limbs and moving clothes to better access your pulse points, mask lifting for wet lips to press whispered kisses to your clammy skin.

It lasted far too long. Far too loving. Too delicate for a ghost. And as soon as you blinked away burning tears after what felt like eternity, you awoke to a sun-lit room.

Closet door closed and blankets pulled back to your neck the way you like, clothes and hair all left back in place. Like it never happened. Like it was just a terrible terrible dream.

But the bruises and discolored patches on your neck and thighs was your promise. Your evidence. Your confirmation, that a ghost… Your Ghost, was still with you. Watching you. Waiting for you. Tasting you. All for himself, leaving not a moment in your waking, or sleeping, days or nights for him left to imagine.

You’d never know, not even when you see a familiar skull mask on your neighbor after he returned home, that it was more than just your imagination.

#sunny writes #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #simon riley x reader #cod simon ghost riley #cod ghost #cw noncon #cw stalking

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ithaquasbbg · 9 months

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A sequel to my pre-manor fic from two days ago.. bc I left it in a good-ish place to continue! Yipee. If this is the first fic you find of the two.. go look at “Love me again”- which should be linked on a masterlist :)) could also be maybe read separately.

A broken man - Ithaqua x reader

Pairing: Post-oletus manor! Ithaqua x reader

Tw: Attempted self harm, Traumatic flashbacks, mentions of physical violence (especially referring to the matches), disordered eating mentality, self dehumanizing (if that makes sense?)

Ithaqua slowly walks down an all too familiar path, thinking about his mother and you. How could the memories ever leave his mind? He can remember the way you passed in his arms and he had never noticed. He can still remember your face, the one he was promised to see again should he have survived those god forsaken games. Though, he finds himself shaking violently the moment he opens the door to his cottage, barely able to even step foot inside.

He hears the sound of talking that suddenly stops when the door opens, as a woman slowly walks towards the door of the cottage, bearing the same long red hair his mother had so long ago. “…Ithaqua?” Her eyes widen as she stares at him. It seemed his pain was worth it in that moment, for his mother to have forgotten all about the harm his twin had inflicted upon her.

Ithaqua nods, flinching as his mother quickly pulls him in to her embrace. He’s unsure if he should panic at the feeling of touch once again, especially after the long period he spent in that god forsaken manor. His heart shatters the moment he looks into his mothers eyes, realizing that even now that he had inflicted traumas upon himself for her to forget her own, she would still be worried for him, even if his own monstrous reflection was the very thing that caused this.

“(Name), come here!” Mother yells, the sounds of your footsteps running down the hall as you come to the entryway, staring up at Ithaqua as tears fill your eyes. For you, the tears were those of joy. But for Ithaqua, the moment he sees you crying like he had the day of your death, he’s reminded of how badly he failed you. That very moment, the walls around him crumble as he starts wailing, unable to hold back the regret and fear he had felt for years. The regret of not being able to save you, and the fear that you or his mother would despise him the moment he returned from the manor.

Slowly, you walk to Ithaqua and pull him as close as he’ll allow, feeling the way he shakes at the touch, as if something had happened. It was strange, the way you had no memory of the day he had suddenly disappeared, but you remembered being heartbroken, screaming his name desperately with his mother. Though something about these memories felt fabricated to you, and perhaps to him as well.

After trying and failing to calm Ithaqua down, you and his mother bring him back to his bedroom and give him some privacy, hoping that would help. But within a few minutes, you hear the sound of glass shattering and rush to his room, seeing him on the ground in the middle of scattered mirror shards, holding a sharp piece of glass up to his own eye. “Ithaqua!” The way you take the glass from him is almost instinctual, keeping him from harming himself any further than he could have done already.

“What is this about?” You ask, looking at him and finally getting a good look at his face before he looks away. He looks exhausted and thinner than you remember, the once lovely shine he had in his eyes gone, replaced with a full blue color, only fear visible in those once gorgeous eyes of his. “…Im a monster” he whispers, choking back sobs while staring at the shards around him. “It’s my fault, (Name), it’s all my fault”

Not knowing how to comfort him, you simply put a hand on his trembling shoulder, watching as he flinches, almost expecting something to hit him. When he realizes you won’t do that, he looks back at you with widened eyes, tears still falling as he tries to understand why he’s being treated so gently after so long of being viewed as nothing but a monster.

“Ithaqua.. what happened to you?” There’s a moment of silence before he whispers a response, his voice much more shrill than its usual tone. “I took a deal, to help you.. they had me do.. terrible.. things to people and-” He’s unable to continue speaking, gagging at the way he remembers it all, the screams of the people he hunted, the way they’d hit him while trying to get away, how he had become nothing but a monster to almost everyone else in his world in that time. “I can’t say it..”

You slowly grab his hand, planting a kiss along his knuckles as he watches you closely, almost unsure if he can even trust you in this situation. “You are not a monster, my love, you’re anything but a monster to me.” Ithaqua simply frowns and shuts his eyes, holding back tears. “You don’t understand, (name)! I’m going to hurt you, that’s all I’ve been able to do-” he stops mid sentence, voice unable to form coherent sentences as he starts sobbing once again, his shaking frame clinging into yours as if it was a life line.

Slowly, you lift your hand and run it through his hair as he used to. For a moment, he tenses up before relaxing into your touch, continuing to cry into your shoulder. “I’ve got you, darling, you’re safe in my arms.” Ithaqua seems comforted by this as he nods, a quiet sound resonating from his throat as he pushes his still trembling frame into yours, his sobs quieting down as he looks up at your face,

After hours of him sitting in your arms, you have his mother help you carry him into bed, pulling him into you as you keep him tight, kissing his forehead. “I love him so much, (name).” His mother slowly changes him into cleaner clothing, unknown bruises and cuts littering his entire body, frail to the point he looks as if he might break. “It hurts so badly to see my little boy like this..” Tears run down her face as she plants a kiss on her sons cheek. “I’m worried he’ll never be the same person he used to be..”

You tried to reassure her before she went to bed that night, though hours later you wake up to hear him in the bathroom, violently ill. “Ithaqua..?” You run your eyes as you get up, trying to open the door, which to your relief was left unlocked. In front of you, sits the young man, too weak from the purging to lift his head. Instead, all you get is a short hum in response to your voice, seeing his eyes peeking over at you, welling up with tears as you kneel next to him, gently pulling his hair back, knowing there was not much you could do at the moment other than attempt to distract him from whatever nightmare he had.

“Do you remember when we met, Ithaqua?” You ask, seeing him nod slowly as his trembling slows. “The way you’d always go out of your way to help every little animal or child you’d see.. that’s why I fell in love with you.” Ithaqua bites his lip, staring down at the floor. “I’m not like that anymore, (name).” He whispers, his voice cracking as he laughs sadly, only to be cut off by you kissing his forehead once again. “If you were the monster you say you were, Ithaqua, I doubt you’d care this much.”

You slowly pick him up and run a warm bath, helping him scrub his bruised body as he watches you, finding himself longing for more and more of your touch as he leans into your hands, a tiny smile forming on his face for the first time since that night.. “I’ll never leave your side, just like you’ve never left mine, I promise.” Ithaquas eyes widen as he hums. It seems that even after being broken down for years, you and mother still loved him. This makes him feel as if everything was worth it, just to see you get a second chance at living along with his mother, to be held in your arms as you grow old together, the way he had always wished it to be.

#idv fandom #idv fanfic #idv headcanons #idv imagines #idv x reader #idv scenarios #idv matchup #idv ithaqua #idv night watch #identity v ithaqua #night watch idv #night watch #ithaqua x reader #ithaqua idv #idv #identity v imagines #identity v

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anti-ao3 · 2 months

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Thank you ver much for your feedback! To me Pr0s are not only trolls, but they're also act like the typical bully who thinks they have every right to abuse other people because "they have a hard life 😢" and suddenly that's a justification (as if the bullied person doesn't have hard life too or sm). Really, it's crazy how in every trauma related community people will tell you "your trauma doesn't excuse abuse" or "don't romantize your trauma because it might make people think it's okay", but when it comes to pr0s suddenly it's a perfect justification to even mistreat other people. Most them have this bully rethoric and it shows so much and that's kinda triggering for me 😑

Yes, oh my god. I sure am tired of proshitters using the "coping mechanism" excuse. Besides the fact coping mechanisms aren't inherently healthy, everything you post online is going to affect people. Just because it's "not real", that doesn't mean it won't have an effect on others. Especially mentally ill people. Sometimes there is fictional media (fanmade or not) that I'm unable to read/watch, because I know it might be triggering to me. That's why it's important for creators to tag correctly.

In fact, proshitters are incredibly ableist to those who have intrusive thoughts, who are narcissistic, who are psychotic etc. At the same time proshitters love writing things to shock others, they are also disgusted by people who have any of these real disorders and symptoms. Either that, or mental illness is simply portrayed as "quirky" or "edgy". Mentally ill people are not treated like people.

Lastly, I wish proshitters learned that they don't have to post everything online. I may post a lot of vent pieces out there, but there are also drawings and pieces of writing of mine that will never see the light of day. Because you don't HAVE to expose yourself like that. If you do want to share it with someone, then do it with like, your therapist or someone you trust. That's going to be a lot more productive than traumatizing hundreds or thousands of people on the internet.

#asks #ableism tw

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alloveydovey · 6 months

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Dramas I watched this past month! The month of the rewatch. (Also spoilers!)

Crush (cdrama) 6.5

This had such a strong start and then went downhill bad (like really bad).

Psychology student decides to sort of intern (? at a special education school and meets a blind braille teacher there. There’s also music involved.

Like in most cdramas I’ve watched, everyone behaves like a twelve-year-old, and the conflict starts out of things that an adult should be able to prevent. The main couple drastically changes in the second half, and it’s like you are watching a whole other drama.

Into the Ring (kdrama) (rewatch) 10 ⭐️

My eternal love to Nana in this (and in general. I’m in love with her). Se Ra is probably my favorite FL from all the dramas I’ve watched.

I remember being very skeptical the first time I saw this (because politics, kinda boring?) but it was so worth it.

Park Sung Hoon is also such an excellent companion to all of her craziness. His and Nana's chemistry was one of the best ones. The awkward but somehow very comfortable atmosphere you feel while watching them is next level. Still one of my favorite dramas. 10/10, I adore it.

Doona! (kdrama) 8

I still have mixed feelings about this one. The sort of angst romance was on point. Actors were good, narrative was fast-paced and kept me entertained. Doona is presented as a complex character and so the story even with happy moments, feels very bittersweet. But even with all that, I feel like I'd have to watch it again because there’s something that puts me off but I can’t quite decide what it is exactly.

I also want to know why they had her wearing tiny tank tops and shorts in snowy winter lol…

A Business Proposal (kdrama) (rewatch) 8.5

The first time I watched a business proposal I didn’t really like it. I thought it was way too cliche and absurd and dropped it after the third episode. It was the fourth kdrama I had watched after Crash Landing on You, Hometown Cha Cha Cha, and Twenty-Five Twenty-One so like… it had big shoes to fill in. I came back to it eventually and finished it.

Now after rewatching… I think learned to appreciate a good over-the-top rom-com (they became my favorites lol) and this definetly hits all the boxes. It feels like an instant classic. Also music 10/10.

Usokon (jdrama) 7

If it is marriage contract/fake dating then sign me the fuck up!!! Usokon started strong but at some point (around episode 8/9) I started getting frustrated. We know that there are feelings involved, but nobody is doing anything about it. The ML (even though he absolutely steals the show) doesn’t do anything to move forward, and the FL is too clueless to make a move. And so there’s not enough romance in a drama that is primarily romantic since the main focus is their fake marriage/ relationship. Also, it had such a frustrating ending!!!

My Girlfriend is a Gumiho (kdrama) 7,5 ⭐️

Nothing beats old kdramas, they have such a particular nostalgic vibe that makes you unable to stop watching. My girlfriend is a gumiho was so sooo stupid, childish, and even cringe, but so cute!!! Every time Shin Min Ah and Lee Seung Gi were together on screen I couldn’t stop smiling. I can totally see this one becoming a comfort drama. Another one with soundtrack 10/10.

Daily Dose of Sunshine (kdrama) 9

I read somewhere that this was like a mental health for dummies book, and to be honest, it’s kind of like that, but it works so well! The way they visualized mental disorders was so creative, I was impressed.

All the characters were intriguing enough to keep me going. Everyone had something to offer here. Even the patients from each episode.

Watching this felt deeply sad yet deeply comforting as well. Park Bo Young absolutely kills it (as usual. QUEEN).

Twinkling Watermelon (kdrama) 9.5

This one was pure gold. Time travel to meet the younger version of your parents? Sign me fuck up. The idea of sending Eun Gyeol back in time to try to understand his family and live his youth is such a cool (and emotional af) premise. It had the ideal balance of comedy and emotion. I feel like sixteen episodes weren’t enough. I could have sat there for another twenty episodes watching those teenagers being silly lol.

#netflix kdrama #kdramas #jdramas #cdramas #daily dose of sunshine #twinkling watermelon #crush #usokon #my girlfriend is a gumiho #into the ring #a business proposal #doona!#dovey watches

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theygender · 3 months

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Bruh I've known for years that I have visual processing issues (separate from my actual vision problems) but I never really looked into the specifics of how it works before. I know sometimes, especially when my brain is tired, I have trouble making sense of shapes and separating the foreground of images from the background. So I can see the image perfectly fine but I can't make out what it is, even if it's something that should be very obvious like a singer crouching at the edge of a stage (actual example). Those moments are a lot like auditory processing issues, where you can technically hear what someone is saying just fine but your brain can't parse it into words. And when I'm having a lot of trouble with this sort of thing, image descriptions are helpful for me. I figured that was just what visual processing disorder was right?

Well now I'm reading more about it and it turns out that there are 8 different types of visual processing skills and VPD can affect any of them. The issues I just described would fall primarily under visual foreground issues bc it stems mainly from not being able to distinguish the foreground (singer) from the background (stage and audience). But it probably also involves some visual closure issues bc I have trouble figuring out what the full shape is if part of it is cut off (like if the singer is kneeling in such a way that not all of their limbs are fully visible), as well as form constancy issues bc I have trouble recognizing familiar shapes if they're in an unexpected position/context (singer kneeling close to the audience instead of standing on stage)

Reading more about form constancy has got me really mind blown actually. I have a lot of quirks that I always just attributed to autism/ADHD. I can't find objects in plain sight, for one thing, especially if they're in a different location than normal. I can set something down on a table right out in the open and almost immediately lose it if there's other objects nearby for it to "blend into." If I'm looking for something in a cabinet or the fridge or even just on a slightly crowded counter I have to ask my gf to remind me what color it is so I can just pick out the color, bc otherwise I can look forever and not find it. Even if I make a conscious effort to check each individual item, I can look right at it multiple times and still not process that it's the object I'm looking for. I have to make it a habit to always put things back in the exact same spot bc otherwise I can't see them. The other day I went to get a new roll of toilet paper from our toiletry shelf and I thought "damn, we're almost out, I better order some more." I didn't realize until I bought a new box and went to stack it on the shelf that there was already an entire new box right there, just slightly to the left. And this isn't even "tired brain" processing, this is my everyday normal

And apparently... that's all described as symptoms of form constancy issues? Like, some of the things optometrists warn parents to watch out for when determining if their child has VPD are "difficulty finding missing items quickly even if they are in plain sight" and "difficulty recognizing objects when placed in a new location"

Another issue I have is a ridiculous inability to orient myself, know my way around familiar places, or understand where I am in relation to other places. I still have to use GPS to get to shops near my home that I've been going to for years and I have no idea what direction anything is in. My gf and I once had some fun playing a game where we stood in our living room and she asked me to point in the directions of things like "the store across the street" and "the entrance to our apartment complex" and "the mailboxes" and "the dumpster by our building" and I was unable to get any of them correct. Part of it is bc even if I DO manage to memorize my way around somewhere it's just a single-line map telling me when to turn to get from point A to point B and it falls apart if I try to come at it from any other angle, and part of it is due to an inability to judge distances (I have taken the extreme long way around on multiple occasions bc I couldn't tell that "just around the corner of that side of the building" was a shorter distance than going around the opposite side of the building, circling around the back, and then coming in from the other direction)

...Turns out that another aspect of form constancy issues is "difficulty judging distances" and "difficulty picturing objects at different angles." Aaaand during this research I happened to stumble across a site with little baby games to help young kids with visual processing issues practice to improve their form constancy skills and uh. It's kinda kicking my ass 😭

I learned some FUN things about myself tonight lads

#prosopagnosia (faceblindness) also falls in the visual processing issues category apparently which. makes sense i guess?#im just kinda shocked that all these issues might be related tbh #like i had always thought of it as three separate things: faceblindness—spatial reasoning issues—visual processing issues #with the visual processing issues being the least impactful on my life bc it only really affected my ability to discern images #and usually only acted up significantly when my brain was particularly tired #but. apparently vpd is a much wider spectrum of issues than i even realized and it may be Causing the other issues? potentially??#idek what to do with this information tbh. it changes functionally nothing except that i can put a name to my experiences #ive already naturally worked out accomodations to make my life liveable with these challenges #like using my GPS everywhere and always putting items back in the same spot so i dont have to rely on sight to find them #and luckily i have a partner who is very patient and always willing to help me when i inevitably have trouble anyways lol #but this is definitely. some knowledge i guess #ill probably at least bring this up to my therapist but this may be outside of her wheelhouse 😅#rambling

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recurring-polynya · 11 months

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Hey! I hope this is alright to ask, but do you have a specific poet whose works you associate with RenRuki?

Boy, did you send this ask to the wrong person.

I am not a poetry person.

I mean, nothing against poetry, I am very happy for the poetry-enjoyers, there's a lot of good poetry in this world, but I can read at most 3 or 4 lines of poetry before my brain just shuts off. I have a good friend who is very into poetry and reads a lot of it, and I have tried, it's just not interesting to me. I know it cannot possibly be related to my auditory processing disorder, but it's roughly the same experience as listening to an audiobook or podcase-- of being aware that information is being directed at me, but being completely unable to ingest it without deliberately focusing on it in a way that is both taxing and deeply unpleasant.

Furthermore, the handful of poems that do stick with me to any degree are...not...topical. I sat down and tried to think about Poems That I Can Name, and came up with the following list:

Two Corbies (a medieval Scottish poem about crows eating a knight's corpse)

Dulce et Decorum Est, by Wilfred Owen, a WWI poem I read in high school about watching someone die by inhaling chlorine gas

Ozymandias, by Mary Shelley's husband. In my head, I thought this was a very long poem, like on the order of Rime of the Ancient Mariner, and it's 14 lines long.

Pachycephalosaurus, by Richard Armour, which I know by heart and will recite at the least provocation, much to the chagrin of my spouse and children.

That William Carlos Williams poem about plums, but only because it's a Twitter meme.

I mean, I will read a poem if someone posts one to Twitter or Tumblr, usually by either Mary Oliver or Richard Siken, and I will often say "yes, that was a nice poem," but and if pressed, I could probably name as many as ten poets, but please don't ask me to "associate their work" with anything.

The closest thing I have to a poem that I associate with Rukia, is actually from an Oh Hellos song that feels like a poem to me, which is:

But Death, she is cunning and clever as hell And she'll eat you alive

I do like many of the Bleach volume poems, but one of their major selling points is that they are short.

I am sure someone is reading this post who has read my fanfiction and saying, Polynya, if you hate poetry, why does it come up in your stories so much? Are you a fraud???

a) of all, yes, of course, always. I don't know jack about doing make-up or hand-to-hand combat, and I write about those things at great length, also.

b) A major theme I like to explore in my writing is the various ways people communicate with one another and how some are more effective than others and that some communicate things that were not, in fact, intended to be communicated.

At some level, I think Renji wishes he were the sort of guy who could express his feelings for Rukia through a romantic poem, but he also feels, deeply, that he is not, and that he is so far from being such a person that it's embarrassing for him to even try. (I love to imply, from time to time, that Renji considers Izuru to be peak boyfriend material and that he's a big nothingburger in comparison, this is very charming to me). Once every hundred thousand words or so that I write, I will give him (1) charming poetic thought, isolated from any actual poetry, which serves to help him process his own emotions and are not for anyone else.

On the other hand, I don't think Rukia wants poems written for or about her! I think that (like me), the idea of someone writing a love poem for her would make her want to claw her own skin off. Poetry is so deliberate. It is wrapping a message in an extra layer of intention, like gift wrap. To many people, this is very romantic, for example, I love the idea that Byakuya and Hisana exchanged poetry, both that they wrote themselves and or that they found in books that they curated for one another. I think Rukia prefers to be regarded at some subconscious level. Poetry is too direct, too raw. A proper love poem to Rukia is in the ringing of swords when fighting back-to-back, it's in a stride shortened to keep pace, it's in an a cabinet full of spicy pickles that the owner can't eat himself.

#i realize that the poetry i like is all about death to some degree or another #which. like. you could definitely make the case that it is bleach-related if not renruki directly #but i do not think that was the point #peace and love on planet earth to all the poetry girlies it's just the one thing that turns my brain into a walnut

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writingsofhubris · 2 years

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Villainous Thing Ch. 3

And we can't have you living a lie

[AO3] | [ Series Masterlist > | Ch. 2 | Ch. 4 ] Rating: Explicit WC: 4.1k | 10.6k Tags: Temporary Amnesia, Falling In Love, Retrograde Amnesia, Caretaking, Anxiety Disorder, Eventual smut, Fandom: Sorcerer’s Apprentice (2010) Ship: Maxim Horvath x Reader Disc: Finding a man in an alley, unable to even remember his full name, you couldn’t help the offer of help. In NYC, people got hurt a lot, if they weren’t looked out for, and in your neighborhood, people helped each other when they could. Somehow, you knew that the moment the smartly dressed man had stumbled onto your bed, things would change. Things would be vastly different. If only he could remember who the fuck he was.

Usually, when you got home, the house was quiet, Maxim preferring the silence that he could get when your neighbors were out. You’d understood his disposition, even if loud music was your method to cure madness.

But the soft clanging the kitchen made you walk further into your apartment, seeing Maxim struggling with the limited space. The steam of the broth had shaken a couple pieces of his hair loose, despite his best attempts to continually smooth and fight with it into submission.

You watched as Maxim took a ladle, and started to stir the soup again. Your hat came off, a small clump of snow making a loud ‘plop’ as it hit the flooring. You opened your jacket, walking to him.

“Smells good. Really good.”

“Minestrone soup,” he replied, eyes on the liquid. “Another memory. Have you ever had it before?”

“Can’t say I have. But I got the bread like you asked.” You pulled out a freshly made sourdough loaf, setting it on the one clean spot in the kitchen. You quickly took to cleaning and setting the table for you,

Domesticity like this hadn’t come easily to Maxim. You had settled in a little quicker, happy to be able to split work after you came home from an engagement, only to have to turn around and work on editing each photo to just right.

You finished setting the table right as Maxim finished, setting the pot on an old pot holder to serve you both directly. A chunk of bread was torn off for you both, and you couldn’t help your groan of pleasure after your first bite.

“This is absolutely delicious. I need you to cook more often for me.”

“I only just remembered a recipe for it last night. Thankfully, I didn’t forget anything.”

“Did you remember anything else?” You didn’t often push for such information, the pained look on his face almost always too much for you to bear. Today, the look didn’t filter onto his face, joy replacing it in the smallest amounts. No, he didn’t remember who Veronica was any more than he could remember exactly what he’d been doing the few minutes before you had found him. But he’d remembered more people; Balthazar was one of the first names. Maxim believed him to be some old friend, but that they had ended up victims of a falling out over something.

“Or someone,” you had pointed out. “Wouldn’t be the first time two guys stop talking ‘cause of a woman.” Maxim paused, thinking for a few moments.

“It may very well have.”

“Continue,” you then said, digging back into your soup to shut your mouth up.

Merlin and Morgana, he knew both had mentored him at some point, but more than that he was unsure. He didn’t even know if they knew each other.

“Maybe that’s why you knew so much about those myths I’d been reading. Maybe you were in theater?" The look of reproach would have been enough, but Maxim stood, collecting your bowls with efficiency. Apparently that would be a solid no. But his voice started to ring out again, And you let yourself fall into listening to his voice. It was rare that he would offer such stories, allowing himself to indulge. He was too focused on regaining memories, that it was only at our behest that he would ever stop and take a few moments away from trying to recall what wasn’t ready to come.

He led you to the living room at last, and you could tell he was about finished. The final words rang, the last pieces that had clicked together settling into your mind. It almost didn’t sound like there was much to be recovered from here. The natural light filtering in from your window had long since disappeared. You took a few moments, trying to organize everything he’d told you. The most surprising of course was the final sentence.

“Wow. I gotta say, this is much more entertaining than the traveling magician I thought you were originally.”

“You doubt me.” The accusation was clear, and your shoulder lifted. “I am not a traveling magician in the way you are familiar with.” Maxim shifted for a moment, pulling a small glass figurine that you’d picked up ages ago. A little scuffed from its time in the streets, but still clearly some form of animal. He shifted his cane to rest against his knee, and you let your eyes move over it again, landing on the dark blue jewel at top. Unthinkingly, your finger moved the black ring you always wore on your finger, fidgeting in the smallest way afforded to you.

Maxim’s hand moved between you, his upturned palm a perfect rest for the tiny figurine. Maxim’s hand moved to brush a small piece of lint off the head of it, only for the glass to suddenly shift, cocking the glass head.

The sudden movement made you fly back to your edge of the sofa, hands resting on oversized cushions.

“Maxim, what the fuck?” Your voice was lowered, looking between the glass and his shadowed eyes.

“The Alchemy of Motion. One of the houses of discipline in which I was taught. In addition to my memories, my magic, my spells, have returned to me in a small amount.” His smile appeared, proud of his mind for a moment. “This spell returned in the time it took me to take a breath, from start to end.” You couldn’t help shifting to him, the small figurine bouncing around his palm once again. Fractals of light reflected from it, shifting and moving each hop that it took.

“Is it alive?”

“No, simply manipulated by the laws that govern it.”

“Which means you’re manipulating it with…”

“Magic.” His words cut into you, offering the final word needed. Your hand moved to rest over your lips, trying to hold in the sudden rush of nerves. You were more than overwhelmed, even as you watched the slight luminosity disappear from both his cane, and the figurine. His hand closed around the figurine, mostly back in its former shape, before setting it on the coffee table.

“Okay.” You felt your knee bouncing just slightly, trying to force the rejection of this knowledge from your mind. Words were mostly failing you, and your default reaction was on your lips; comedy. “I assume we’re working with normal genie rules?”

“Genies, no. They’re much more limited in their scope.”

“I thought it was just the love, reanimation, killing thing.”

“I only met one.”

“Can anyone become a… magician?”

“Sorcerer, not magician,” he corrected. “Not everyone has the ability, and not every person who can become one, does.”

“How can you tell?” You could tell that he wasn’t as sure in that answer, eyes turning away from you for just a moment. “You’re going to have to tell me once you remember.” If he ever did.

“That leads me to my final topic for the night.” Well, shit. He’d never broached a topic like that before. You straightened slightly, only to lean your elbow against the back of the sofa, head cocked.

“Hit me.”

“I have managed to set up an appointment with the company I own. If I am able to convince these board members just who I am, then I should regain more of what I have lost.” The words spoke of progress, good progress, meaning that Maxim would be able to return to his life. You didn’t know just why the words a pit opened in your stomach instead of hope for him.

“Awesome. When’s that set for?”

“Two weeks from today, at one.” His displeasure was colored on his face, a slight scowl appearing. “The assistant I had gotten in contact with claimed each of my board members had decided to go on a vacation, and were unreachable in the interim.”

“So, you’ve got two more weeks of simply being Maxim.” You pulled out your phone, and looked at the date. “The final two weeks of 2010, and in 2011, you’ll be back to the owner of an insurance company.” Your thumb drummed against the side of your phone for a second, before you stood up from the sofa. “Let’s go get ice cream.”

“With the weather?” You looked out the window, seeing the start of fat, white snowflakes drifting on the other side of the glass.

“And? That corner shop’s going to be open, and if they’re out of ice cream, I’ll get something else. You coming?” You already had grabbed your goat and boots, heavy things that kept in your warmth without becoming waterlogged from melted snow. You always were thankful for the protection they offered you, swathing you from the elements.

Maxim’s footfalls, almost too close, alerted you to him behind you. You only allowed a glance to the side as he put on that heavy coat you’d first found him in, and though it was mismatched with the warmest of the sweaters you’d gotten him, he mainly looked warm.

By the time you both were on the street, snow had already covered the walk, as well as some of the parked cars. People were hurrying about, faster than either of you wished to walk for the night.

“Beautiful.” Your eyes were on the mess of humanity mixing with nature, meaning you missed just where Maxim was looking.

Someone pushed you forward in their hurry to get to their destination, pulling you away from Maxim for a few seconds. You almost lost him, until your hand was taken by a large hand, tugging you back the way you’d been pushed from. Your hand was placed on his elbow, and he tucked you into his side effectively. In doing so, you were sucked into the bubble that was how Maxim walked through the world.

Between him and the snow, the world became muffled. Looking up the distance to his face, you were struck with the simple elegance that spread through his body, that allowed him the presence to make people move aside for him. Every second of the memories he had shared with you, it was almost impossible to not realize that he was a sorcerer of old, a man who had walked centuries more than anyone you’d ever met before.

He made you feel safe. His very presence soothed the anxiety that’d been building in you.

You’d almost forgotten the destination you’d been the one to set, until Maxim opened the door to the ice cream parlour. A wave of sugar-scented air hit you, then the warmth that’d been kept in by the old door. Your name was loudly, hollered out in the empty parlour. You laughed, using your hand on Maxim to pull him through the doors. You left thirty minutes later with a cone for each of you, and a chocolatey frozen tub for yourself, later.

Taking Maxim’s arm felt like the most natural progression when you stepped back into the snow. You didn’t want the rest of the walk back to end. Short as it was, you were sneaking looks up at his profile, memorizing each divot as you could. Even his dimples, so rarely seen by you, were out for just a few moments. Specks of flakes landed on his coat, only to melt moments later.

With a firmness in your heart, you really didn’t want these last two weeks to disappear. If you could live in these moments for the rest of your life, and ignore everything else, you couldn’t confidently admit if you’d choose the right option.

December 31st, ten AM. The time and date were reflected in digitized format over your phone, the call you’d just been on finally ending. A sigh, leaning back into the chair you’d been sitting in.

Maxim had been getting ready during your phone meeting, and when you heard the bedroom door open, you waited for him to walk down the hallway.

You’d been expecting a man with timeless beauty, that was for sure. But the miraculously unscathed suit still fit him like a glove, hugging his figure and flattering him in just the right ways. He looked like he should have been walking down a street in Victorian London, not walking down your tiny hallway.

You didn’t hide the look you were giving him, taking in his hand grasping the shaft of his cane, the straight back, the poker face he always wore.

Even despite the proof you had of his years on this earth, the inability to work most electronics prime above all of them, it wasn’t until you saw him cleaned up and dressed properly that you really believed his claim. There wasn’t even a hint of the man you’d found months ago, half crumpled in pain and a lack of memory. In his hands was a bowler hat that you only had had for a few months, the one you had found just before him.

“Where did you get this?”

“Found it, the night that I found you. Just seemed to be thrown out, but it still was good.”

“This is mine.”

“I found it at the mouth of the alley.”

“May I have it back?” Part of you wanted to keep it, now that you knew that it was his.

“Of course.”

The only thing that had been missing was his coat, which he took and laid over his arm after a beat. He was ready to go to the meeting, and to you, this would be the last moments that you would ever see the man. These last moments of drinking in his assured nature would be the ones to stick in your mind this entire time.

And Maxim was ready to leave.

“I think that just how you look would make them believe you’re the owner.” The smile you’d become so familiar with once again appeared on his lips, taking the compliment you’d offered him with the grace you’d only seen in him.

“Do you think such? It’s the only clothing I have to allow myself to feel presentable.”

“Oh, it’ll work wonders.” And perhaps more on any woman he decided to pursue after this. That disappointment that so often flooded your body once again appeared, and it took every fiber in your being to hold in those feelings. You’d both known that this would be the end of your relationship from the first second that he had refused a hospital. It was hard to separate the emotions from your reality. “Let me know how the next time you end up needing to hide out or something, if I’m lucky I’ll have a sofa that won’t ruin my back.”

Unthinkingly, you bounced your knee, only bouncing a couple times before you looked down at your planner again. Most importantly, not looking at Maxim. It was going to be pretty damn lonely once he left, being New Years Eve.

Yet when you heard his footsteps, they weren’t moving to the door. Instead, they walked the short distance needed to stand next to you, his hand pulling your face up to look at him. Your name fell from him softly, a request instead of a demand.

“Thank you. You helped me at no benefit to yourself, and you did so without a single request. People like you are more rare than we would like to believe in this world. I know this.” You could feel the finality in his words, his tone assured.

Even if you wanted to ask if this was goodbye, you couldn’t manage to bring yourself to ask him.

“I’d do it again if you needed. Good luck today, not that you’ll need it.” His thumb brushed over your jaw as he pulled away, and you heard the door click closed behind him. Tears started, but you knew how to be quiet in moments like this. Your walls were too thin any other way.

You scrubbed your face to hold in your emotions, before standing, locking the lock and chain on your door. Heading to your bathroom, you intended to soak away an hour with some candles, then watch some kind of comfort show. Wallowing had done nothing for you when you were younger, and you weren't going to allow yourself to waste this new year. Something would make you feel better, and if nothing else, at least you were able to indulge yourself in a long, hot bath.

Time flew faster than you’d expected it to. The water cooled quicker than you’d wished it to, chilled in the freezing air that snuck into your apartment. You’d bathed and dressed in comfortable clothes, old worn in clothes that you needed to throw out, but simply hadn’t yet. You hadn’t worn it for months, not since before Maxim had started living with you. It was by your choice, but you wanted some comfort on one of the few days off you could allow yourself. It wasn’t as if you had Maxim to impress anymore, after all.

You didn’t know if it was love that you had with Maxim, even as your heart hurt as it needed to. But you were certainly infatuated. Everything about him seemed to draw you closer to him, from the harsh words he would throw, to the sweet good nights you’d made him become accustomed to. Maybe it was your fault for letting your heart run ahead of you, but it was your fault. Maxim would have his company back within the afternoon, and you’d have the same, small company that didn’t pay the bill without careful spending. At least you still had a half a pint of something frozen and chocolatey in your freezer for now.

A very something that you’d bought with Maxim.

Frustration colored your thoughts, only for you to put it out of your head. Hours continued to pass as you indulged in random shows that you hadn’t gotten a chance to even put on in the background.

You were curled into the side that Maxim normally took, and with the sheets that had been on the sofa in the washer, you were curled under your duvet, knowing the scent would fade over the next week or so. You knew that you were spiraling, just a little. But you were alright, and you didn’t have anything to do anyway.

No, you just quoted along to the movie that you’d switched it to, laughing along to the silly jokes that long since had lost the punch of their punchlines. It was comforting, familiar, and you stabled out eventually. Somehow, when it hit six thirty, you found yourself stable again, the movies and ice cream well doing their tricks.

‘Play’ selected on your DVD player, and the opening credits to another movie started, familiar enough to hum along to the notes.

Until loud, sudden knocks rang through your apartment, and you sprung to your feet, opening the door until the chain caught it. Maxim peeked through the slit in wood, a brow raised at your actions.

“Maxim, you’re… Wait, why are you back?”

“May I come in?”

‘Yeah.” Closing the door again, you stopped for a moment to look down at your outfit. You didn’t have anything to cover up with, so you quickly unlatched the chain, and opened it so Maxim could walk in. You closed the door quickly, flipping the dead bolt. You looked up at him, hands moving to your elbows, trying to hide some of your body. You felt vastly under-dressed compared to him, and much smaller.

“I’ve left something rather important here.”

“Oh. Yeah, you know where the bedroom is.” And hopefully he wouldn’t notice the lack of a blanket. You took a half step into your apartment again, only for Maxim’s gloved hand to move to your upper arm, stopping you from moving further.

“It’s not in the bedroom, bunny.”

“Then what is it?”

“You.”

“Makes sense.” You forced a rueful smile onto your lips. “Where in the world would you be without your nurse?”

“You’re being entirely too stubborn.”

“I’m being realistic.” You made an effort to make that distinction, firm in your conviction of your words. Your hands moved to his chest, a conviction you didn’t realize that you had come to during the day solidified. Your hands moved to rest on his chest, keeping the space between you in the smallest form. “I’ve been your nurse, Maxim. That, and your safe space to recall your memories, and that’s what I should stay.”

“Would I come back as just a nurse?” His point was clear.

“No, but I don’t know why you would come back here. There’s nothing you’d need here anymore.”

Maxim tilted your head up, and leaned his head down to kiss you, deeply. Your arms slipped from his chest, up to his shoulders, pulling yourself up on the tips of your toes. You couldn’t help the release of emotions that swirled through you, that conviction from moments quickly crumbling in little effort. Maxim didn’t pull away until you did, still held close to his body.

“Painfully stubborn.” Maxim whispered the words against your lips, and a laugh fell from your lips.

You pulled away slowly, taking his hands in yours. It was easy to guide him to the room that he’d be sleeping in for the last few months. Your hands slipped under the lapels of his jackets, sliding the fine fabric off his shoulders in one go. You didn’t let them fall, the moment taken to step closer to Maxim, looking up at him with nerves clear in your face.

“Will you lay down for me?” Your voice didn’t shake as you asked that of him, hope in your chest that he would comply.

His thumb brushed over your cheek one more time, before he took his place in the center of the bed, back against the headboard. His brow cocked, clearly waiting to see what you were going to do. For a moment, you just looked, and admired his form. Moving to rest a leg on either side of his hips was the obvious next step, your hands on his shoulders.

Those hands moved to the buttons on the front of his shirt. Each inch of shirt moved to the side offered you another inch of Maxim’s skin, finding scars you’d never been allowed to see before. You’d have him tell you the stories that had returned to him at some point.

It wasn’t until his hands had moved to your hips that you realized just how much your need for him had grown.

Clothing was shed quickly, and Maxim shocked you by flipping your positions with ease, taking his time to worship your body. He touched nearly every spot you loved. Months of being pent up and in the same apartment with him meant it didn’t take long for you to feel wetness gathering in your underwear.

Maxim left small bites along your shoulders, his fingers only slipped into your hole at your soft pleas for more.

Maxim took his time learning your body, pulling pleasure from you in ways you hadn’t experienced before.

Maxim had you resting over his chest, your head pressed into his neck, his hand on your lower back, holding you on top of him.

It was nice to have your bed back, even if Maxim was separating you and the mattress. He was comfortable, and you could feel his chest moving under you.

“Us Morganians are not sorcerers who look for good in this world. My past already has made me aware of how humanity marches to the objective of satisfaction.”

“You must be finding tons of people who fit the bill, here in New York City.” You pressed your head against his neck more firmly, soaking in the warmth of his skin, heat trapped between you both under the comforter.

“Look at me,” Maxim instructed, urging you to look at him with gentle pressure on your jaw. “You’ve been one of the few pillars that have stood for kindness.” Your eyes flicked from his to rest on his lips, your thumb brushed over his lower lip, this the hair of his goatee.

“Be careful, Maxim, or I might think you’re actually falling for me.” The smile that had appeared on his lips spoke more than any verbal response could have. Perhaps he was, but neither of you were ready to admit that to even yourselves. You’d taken care of him, and if you were really lucky, he could take care of you for a bit.

You pressed a kiss to his neck, once again hiding your face in his neck.

Regardless of pesky things like emotions, Maxim was comfortable under you, and you had no intention of moving any time soon.

I’m haunted by the feelings of things I can’t remember. But what would I be without the ghosts? The opposite of a haunting is something Very lonely

Tags! @randomfandomtrash28 @emotrash1 @unitedfandomsoftheworld @arandomnerdsblog578 @overlookedfile @yesalwayswelles

#bunny u #maxim horvath #maxim horvath x reader #x reader #alfred molina #.W #hi ty for your patience

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cybernightart · 9 months

Text

I was watching a video on the pictures of mental disorders like ADHD and autism (and more) and it made me think of this. It's kinda rambley so be warned.

I love the head cannon of Genji having ADHD and/or autism as someone with ADHD and in the process of getting an autism diagnosis myself, I can definitely see myself and quite a lot of his character in the way he acts or interacts with other characters in the world around him.

And there has been a few fanfics or just things I read in general of people with the same headcanon and I know it's unintentional, but the amount of times that characters feel like they're being infantilized, made out to be stupid or annoying, completely unaware of themselves, or very stereotyping about ADHD and autism is quite often. And I know it's because of media portrayals and just not much understanding. It can just be a little disheartening sometimes, especially when it no longer feels like the character because they pushed them so far into stereotypes that it doesn't feel like them anymore.

There's some things about having ADHD specifically that are like dead giveaways if you know what you're looking for, but the most common thing I see being done is the hyperactivity part, I've seen betrayals of Genji where he's just non-stop talking constantly bouncing off the walls of so much energy and it's just hyperactive all the time. And as much as hyperactivity is a part of ADHD, most often than not hyperactivity is internal in adults (also when girls and women) so they may be having a million thoughts at once but could be standing there with their arms crossed staring into space (totally not talking from experience XD) or if they are rushing around doing things they're jumping from different tasks to task and then remembering the task they started going back to it and it's just a constant cycle. Plus as you grow up you get a better understanding of how your individual experience with ADHD works and you can learn to cope with it more, and if you've accessed medication.

We know Genji used to be really impatient, and struggle with his attention and a whole bunch of other things canonically, and he only ever did things that he was interested in because he couldn't physically do things he didn't care about (like how he didn't find interest or like the clan activities but loved playing video games and training) and similarly defiant or oppositional behavior is another trait. He even fits with the common problem with ADHD even insomnia, with him being unable to sleep in anything up staying up late talking with Angela. ADHD can also influence emotional things like having stronger reactions with anger or rage, that seemingly come out of nowhere or are far larger than what caused them.

And now with zenyatta's help he was able to find ways to help him regulate his attention more, help him to be more patient, and try and keep on the same train of thought. By no means is he "cured" he has just accepted who he is and is able to find ways to help him in his daily life.

Anyways to get back to what I was saying before, there's just times that I've been reading these fanfictions and stuff and it just feels like there is no understanding or very little understanding of what she's actually like to deal with and not just from an outsiders perspective looking at someone with ADHD. Because so much of it is internal. And even with physical aspects of it they're not ...good... Like headaches, rashes, emotional outbursts/very strong emotions like with rage, sadness, even joy, not to mention RSD (rejection sensitive dysphoria) which feels horrible and makes you feel like every little thing you do only makes the people you care about hate you more or never liked you to begin with, sensitivity to sensory input like lights and sound and specially touch. And it being simplified to just hyperactive "oh sorry I can be forgetful sometimes"/"I'm not like other girls"/ "oh I'm so hyper! I have soooo much energy" just doesn't feel good.

This applies to not just Genji and depictions of ADHD but characters in media in general. I didn't speak on autism as much, because even though it's very likely I have it I am not fully diagnosed yet so I don't want to speak on it too much in terms of personal experience. Also not judging anyone for the way they write characters or anyone in particular, it's just more occasional tidbits I pick up on from time to time from everywhere from the OverWatch community to media and to film and TV.

#overwatch #genji #overwatch 2 #genji headcanons #genji adhd #adhd #adhd problems #adhd representation #personal experience with adhd #rant

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atelier-aria · 2 years

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So here’s a Status Update I wanted to share: It’s in regards to my general health. I’m not very confident at writing posts like this but I thought I should let everyone know as this does directly impact what I do so - more under the cut if you’re interested ^^/

After 8yrs+ of investigation, I recently got a tentative diagnosis of Hypermobility Syndrome (it has a lot of names: HSD hypermobility spectrum disorder/ JHS joint hypermobility syndrome/ symptomatic hypermobility - the diagnostic criteria was updated in 2017 and there’s still ongoing research) and long story short it’s a connective tissue disorder/ligament laxity issue that makes my joints more unstable than usual, or makes my joints sit further outside the socket than normal.

It used to be commonly known as double-jointedness and yes - I can contort a lot of my joints in all sorts of overextensive twists that normal joints shouldn’t. I can twist my elbows outwards to where it looks broken (which was always a fun trick at school lol), and the consultant testing me turned my wrists nearly a full rotation - which was bizarre to watch, because I really felt nothing as he did it.

Unfortunately, party tricks aside, it means I’ve been struggling with chronic fatigue and chronic pain in nearly all my joints for over a decade. Without any significant injury or trauma I suffer frequent muscles aches, strains and sprains, flares of bursitis and tendonitis in various parts, and the joints in my hips and back leave me in constant states of discomfort and pain and unable to do things like standing, walking, or sitting for very long. It profoundly affects my mobility and energy levels and normal everyday tasks can be a trial sometimes.

There’s also a whole host of associated problems with symptomatic Hypermobility that often arise (digestive troubles, dental/visual problems, anxiety etc), as well as the dizziness and pre-syncope I get from standing or moving too fast. It’s been a lot to process but I suspect it’s been 90% responsible for most of my ailments and troubles throughout my life - which is...a lot to think about.

I suspect though for those who have been long term commissioners or known me a long time, this probably isn’t super surprising because my energy levels have always been a bit all over the place, or I’m often sharing status updates about some new injury. Either I’m turning a commission around in 3-5 business days, or it’s taking months and it’s pretty much down to the same issue that my energy levels aren’t consistent, and I often get very bad days/weeks/months where I can’t do a lot because of discomfort. x’D

Ultimately what I just want to say is...

Thank you to everyone now and in the past who’s been so patient and understanding with me. This isn’t something that can be ‘fixed’ and because it’s literally how my body is - down to a genetic level - I’m never going to ‘get better’. I’m still on a diagnostic journey as I’ll have to rule out underlying conditions in the connective tissue disorder spectrum (like hEDS) but now I have an understanding of my tentative diagnosis there are specialist ways I can get help to manage the syndrome for which I’ve already started the referral process (wish me luck!).

Until then I’ll try my best to practice fatigue management and pacing, and build an appropriate schedule where I can balance work and rest in a more consistent way. Being able to do commissions and work on art-related projects means a lot to me since I can set my own hours and work around my condition doing something I really enjoy. So, thank you everyone for being so patient and understanding (and for reading this far lol)! I’ll try my best to get stronger. ^^9

#health update #hypermobility spectrum disorder

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aleniksimmer · 2 years

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Progress on Max: hair, contacts, everyday glasses

TW below. Do not read if you are not comfortable.

I am still trying to survive depression. I fucking hate how I feel. And it got worse. I don’t know what triggered it this time. I just feel like I have just unresolved issues in my life. I feel stupid, a waste of time for others, a waste of space and resources. I only feel mental pain and I’m unable to escape. I keep thinking, what’s the point? What’s the point of me being here? I feel trapped by my own life. I want to quit university because just the thought of restarting in october brings me anxiety, I feel like I will not be able to finish it neither this year. I don’t feel part of that world anymore. And I can’t find a fucking job, cause they fucking ask for experience even if in the ads they say “no experience required”. And I fucking know I’m fucking able to do at least the desk job if they fucking teach me. At my first job experience I was already actively working after 8 hours of just watching someone do their job, and for other people they waited more than a week before they started being active, and they had a fucking vademecum. I fucking know I’m quick to learn basic and medium tasks, but apparently no one fucking cares cause they prefer experienced people. How the fuck am I going to make experience. I just feel a fucking failure. And to join a double course of 3 years that’s thankfully in my city and it’s what about I really care it’s 6k€. And I mostly have them saved up with my last and only job, but if I put another year of university too it’s fucking tragic. And at this point I don’t know if it’s fucking right to continue it to have a fucking piece of paper at my “”old”” age, or just give up and feel like I’ve mostly lost ten years of my life. Cause I swear, “”friends”” of my parents treat me like a fucking “alien” cause “oh but she has always been so gooood in school, it’s a pity that’s having difficult with university, she could have had a good job, traveled the world, maybe find something groundbreaking. we had high hopes for her future”, and my parents feel fucking bad cause they have a stupid depressed introvert suicidal too grown up “kid” who still lives with them, while they have always been admired for having a smart child. I’m just a fucking failure. And I keep feeling trapped in my life, I’ve been feeling trapped for fifteen years. I’m almost 30, I am depressed, socially anxious, apparently stupid, still living with my parents, can’t find a fucking job, blocked for ten years in a three years university degree due to a fucking exam, and all I fucking do is try to survive day by day and I feel like I don’t even have the right to complain because at the moment I have a roof on the head and food on the table. Oh and not to mention my 15 years long eating disorders from anorexia, to binge eating, to compulsive eating. And the bullying during my childhood. I just feel like a broken thing that can’t be repaired with nothing good left.

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libertyreads · 1 year

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Book Review #127 of 2022--

Nine Liars by Maureen Johnson. Rating: 4.25 stars.

Read from November 9th to 11th.

Before I get into my review, I want to say a quick thank you to both the publishers over at Katherine Tegan Books and NetGalley for completely making my reading year by giving me access to this ARC in exchange for an honest review. Nine Liars is the fourth book in the Truly Devious series and follows Stevie and her friends as they travel to London for a study abroad experience. But when Stevie gets there a cold case from 1995 awaits her. Can she juggle her boyfriend, her academic responsibilities, and an English country house mystery without dropping one of those balls? Nine Liars comes out on December 27th and is available for preorder now.

There was so much to enjoy with this one. The country house and the mystery there all felt very Dark Academia which was not the vibe I was expecting for this novel. And it was so so good. I loved the London settings and the country side setting. I also liked the fact that the main lie this group of college friends shared for decades was something that does happen. People really do lie to the cops about this sort of thing despite the fact that it takes away from the murder. People look at something and go ‘I have to lie about this because it’s a major thing that will get me in trouble if I don’t.’ When in reality, the cops care much more about catching a murderer than they do whatever small thing you’re doing. As someone who watches and listens to a lot of true crime, this felt very realistic. Also, I enjoy the fact that the murderer isn’t some diabolic or psychotic person, it’s someone whose actions get away from them and everything snowballs. Of course, we still have our core main characters who are lovely and I enjoyed seeing them in new situations and new settings. I liked the tiny mystery about what was going on with Nate. And I liked that Nate came out to Stevie as Asexual. I felt like there was a lot of other LGBTQIA+ rep in the series so I didn’t expect it to happen. It’s pretty rare for me to read something with an Ace character in it so it felt like a little win for my sexuality.

There were moments when I felt really anxious while reading this one. Which probably is a plus for the writing side, showing that the author can make me feel for the characters and the situations. But it made me so uncomfortable for certain parts of the story. Especially the last 50 pages or so. That wasn’t helped at all by the feeling that David was acting really strange during the end of Stevie’s stay in England. I feel like it was a bit out of character for him. I know as a fandom we don’t all agree about Stevie and David’s relationship, but I think we can all agree that he was a much better boyfriend in The Box in the Woods than in the books that came before it. But the end of this one made it feel like he was reverting back to the old David behaviors. And maybe this is all supposed to lead up to another book in the series which would have more to explore with Stevie and David. I just didn’t like that aspect of the story very much. At the end of the novel we also had a lot of Stevie being frustrated by the case and unable to solve it. It felt a bit like she was banging her head on the wall trying to find a way in. I felt her frustration and her fear and her anxiety which made it uncomfortable as she struggled to solve the case. Or maybe I just have a whole anxiety disorder of my own.

Overall, this was the English Country Side case of the Truly Devious series and it was practically everything I ever wanted. I still love Stevie and all of her friends (yes, even David). And I still love following her along as she attempts to solve cold cases and to deal with her anxiety. I would follow Stevie Bell to the ends of the Earth. Great expansion of the series. Well worth the read.

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outerrangesource · 2 years

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We loved you in Outer Range. How much fun did you have playing Autumn?

I had a lot of fun because I feel like there was a lot of opportunity for the character. Sometimes female roles can be condensed to fit into small spaces [but] there was something I felt on the project that was tangible.

It was a sense of becoming something else – becoming something other – and sort of stretching wide out and that was really fun. It felt like a new opportunity, actually, to get to do that.

Do you feel that there aren't as many meaty roles like that for women still?

I think it subverts the kind of female role that may have come along before. I understand that people have had quite a visceral reaction to her as a character, and a lot of people really dislike her. I question how much of that is the disturbance they feel that it's a female character who's causing them to react that way. Maybe they expected a smoother ride.

And, yeah, I find it quite satisfying that people are finding her so unlikeable, because I don't think we have enough of those female roles around. But I do think it's starting to change. I just hope that people's appetites remain excited for characters, whether they're male or female, to not have to be constantly cosy people to be around .

Autumn definitely wasn't cosy. How much does she know about her past as Amy? Is she starting to remember bits?

I had the pilot script, and then I had some long discussions with Brian Watkins and Zev Borow, who are our showrunners, but because of the way the information was sent to me, I was unable to have an overview, going into the project, of how much Autumn knew and didn’t know.

So I had to just be really present in the moments that I had with other characters, and I understand that I was probably told different things to what Tom Pelphrey was told or whatever.

So I was really piecing it together as we made the show – apart from the major reveal at the end. That's something I knew, that she was Amy.

But in terms of the link to that, and the pockets of memory and pockets of time, I didn't have a complete overview. So I had to sort of remain true to each moment, if that makes sense?

Yeah, definitely.

Without having to have an extensive notion of: "She went to this time zone, and then she went to the future, and she came back." It was far more interesting to play that deep kind of curiosity, and that hunger.

One of our favourite scenes is that monologue in the restroom. Can you explain a little bit about what Autumn was trying to say?

Sure. Well, obviously it's lifted from Dune, that speech, and I think that there is, through the show, this indication that Autumn is a real disciple. You know, she's a fan, in the darkest sense, of certain writers and thinkers.

I can totally see why she may have watched a film – considering her fragmented notion of reality as it stands, I can see her really committing to a hero in a movie, and that kind of persona is something that she wants to adopt.

So I think it's part of that.

I remember in the filming of the scene, I thought about Allen Ginsberg's live recordings, when he read Howl, and how there was a monotony to the way that he said the words. It's almost like the beats of a train on the train tracks.

It felt like that's where maybe it should land, when she's almost whipping herself up into that frenzy. And there's something really weird about an incredibly calm psychosis. She's like an athlete just before the real shit hits the fan.

It would be easy to brand Autumn as crazy, but can you talk a little bit about her mental health? We know that she’s on lamotrigine, which is a treatment for epilepsy and bipolar disorder.

Yeah. That was in the script, and that was something to bear in mind. But, you know, it's always a very fragile line. You don't want to make it a role that is sort of a lazy, generic personification of what it means to have mental-health issues.

I think, really, what's at large here is someone who’s locked into something bigger than them. I think that with the progression of the character, you start to see that fusion of she's not entirely well, coupled with this sort of very intense, almost fanatical sense of what she's there to do.

I'm sure we can all draw parallels to people, you know, in the media, where things have occurred, where some of the views have just become incredibly extreme, and, yeah, there's devastating results.

Do you think that Autumn's ability to see the world in a different way makes her more in tune with the supernatural?

That's interesting. It's funny, isn't it? You think about people, like all of us, how we move through the world, and what you choose to entertain, and what you don't. I think it's very easy to dismiss the way that other people think that doesn't align with your own kind of experience.

It's difficult to talk about it, without wanting to say it's a good thing or a bad thing, to be more in tune with the supernatural. I think she perhaps has that frenzied personality that you often find coupled with people who are scientists, or thinkers about space and black holes and something outside of reality.

But actually, that is in no way supernatural. Of course, talking about space and talking about time – these are all things that we really know incredibly little about.

On the one hand, I'd say she's actually engaging with stuff that is important and on the other hand, when you're coupled with a talking bear, you just have to take that with a large grain of salt.

What was it like filming with Tom Pelphrey? Were you an Ozark fan?

Yeah. I'm just a big Tom fan. I'm just the biggest Tom champion. His work, I'd seen, and obviously I thought he was incredible but I love him dearly. We became incredibly close. He was sort of my main buddy on the show. You kind of end up going to funny, little dinners in the middle of weird places with your castmates.

He was my "phone a friend" when a colony of cockroaches just came knocking at my door in Santa Fe. I called Tom, and he was like, "You know, they've got to live somewhere."

Which wasn't much of a consolation but he was an incredibly great friend during that, and we loved working together.

We have this joke where we think we've both got really big faces – like, really big surface areas on our faces. So we'd sort of refer to ourselves as the Big Faces.

What can you tell us of Autumn's gameplan? How did she plan to change the world? Because that's something that comes up a lot.

I think… I mean, an overarching answer would be, obviously, just supreme and ultimate power which is the makings of a sociopath. I think there's a sense that it's something that belongs to her, which is a very insidious argument, because, of course, we shot this in New Mexico, even though it's based in Wyoming.

It's a very upsetting and enlightening conversation when it comes to: who does that American land belong to originally?

So I think there's things to do with that, which is the delusion that she believes it's her right.

I also think that it's kind of those answers to find out about your own life, which we all feel in our, you know, small ways.

So I think she's someone who's almost become physical in trying to sort of find answers and locate the truth.

I suppose power. You know, power is the answer to that question but it's what form does that take and what she wants from it all? Because, of course, there's also playing people off each other. Is that even necessary? Or is that someone who's just a little bit bored, and knows that they have a firm hold on what death means?

If you go into the hole and come out of it again, does that mean that you ever actually die? If you've made good with death, then what are your boundaries, if any?

There's a moment when Autumn's on the phone, and she mentions "mum". Is that actually Rebecca? What's the relationship with her mom like? Do we know?

The mother figure isn't ever, in the script, revealed or suggested that it's Rebecca. So that's still an unknown, whether that is Rebecca, or whether that is a woman who brought Autumn up, or whether she's even on the phone with her mum at all, despite saying that.

There's a lot of symbolism within the show. Can you explain what some of that means? Especially the buffalo? Can anyone explain the buffalo?

Symbolism is kind of fun, isn't it? Because you can take from it what you want or not. It's interesting – when I think about the buffalo, I think about the myth of the American West. There were stories of way back when the Land of Milk and Honey, and the American Dream, and all of that sort of original founding of that myth.

People literally said – I can't remember what type of animal it was, whether it was a buffalo or whether it was a pig or something. But there were images of these animals running around with knives already in them as if there was just so much food and the riches that were to come.

That's at least what I took away with the buffalo, how sinister that is, and the haunting of that myth. What good has it done? It's given people a lot of hope, but it's also been very destructive.

For me, the buffalo sort of resembled a kind of hologramesque notion of the American West. But someone else might have a far more lucid and relevant response to that.

#outer range #outer range spoilers #imogen poots #interview

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blazenhearts · 2 years

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I totally see your point about needing to increase accessibility in all games, but also there's no game that it os without it's accessibility faults, nor is Build Mart the least accessible. There are ways to work around a colorblind member or nd member, you put them in a position they can avoid their disability in. A colorblind person could still easily be a runner, the color secrions are all labeled and everything else hs different textures. And if you make an nd person a more permanent builder then they don't need to memorize things. One of the best things about buildmart is how much communication is necessary. The people who excel at the game have very clear and concise communication systems set up to work quickly and efficiently. And as for games that a person can have disabilities thay make them unble to improve upon? Lets look back at those high anxiety games that were mentioned, Parkour Tag and Battle Box. There are also multiple creators with anxiety disorders who play and Grian for example has on multiple occasions expressed how overwhelming those 2 games are for him and it makes him unable to focus properly and his hands to get so sweaty he can't control his mouse properly. Thats not something can be trained, that's a result of that disability. So why aren't we calling for them to not be played or just nixxed entirely? And it's incredibly frustrating and sad and upsetting sometimes to watch because he gets so frustrated with himself for neing unable to do it. But I have seen little to no calls for those games to be canned. And while we're at it, what about Dodgebolt? Its a classic, we all love it, but again, talk about high anxiety. Poor Grian has literally hd a panic attack playing that game and yet, again, not a peep from the community to throw it out. This is all coming from the perspective of someone who hs both ADHD and an anxiety disorder, trust me I know how both can affect you and what things can and cannot be just trained. My point in all this is to say, is it really about inaccessibility, and if so, why aren't we advocating for better accessibility in other games too?

I feel like a major point is being missed. I gladly welcome discussions and call outs about inaccessibility, just because I'm only talking about one game doesn't mean that other games arent also putting certain people at a disadvantage.

Focusing on builtmart first

A colorblind person could still easily be a runner

Yes colorblind people can be runners but they're at more of a disadvantage than a non colorblind runner would be. Yes everything is labeled but having to slow down and take the time to read each color is slower than the quick glance around that someone else could take. An easier situation would be to place the colorblind player as a builder so they're closer to the builds, but still there's a issue with having to be within a specific range of the block in order to read its block label. Even then that's not fool proof bc in the instance like the Red Rabbits team with 3 colorblind players there would be at least one of them running or else there would only be one block runner for 3 builds

If you make an nd person a more prominent builder then they don't need to memorize things

Sure, but actually not really. They need to take inventory of their build, what blocks they need and how many plus how many they already have, and say they tell the runner what they need but the runner forgets and asks again the builder would need to take inventory again if they forgot.

I've watched dreams povs for buildmart several times, plus I watch his content regularly, he moves around a lot. Dream is constantly moving around and, while of course I don't know him or what strategy would work best for him, he probably wouldn't enjoy being a builder so putting him in that position might not be what he wants or feels most comfortable with.

One of the best things about buildmart is how much communication is necessary

It is and that makes it a great team game. But communication can be a huge road block for overloaded nd players especially considering communication only gets you so far when you forget what you've been told nearly immediately. Buildmart requires a lot of communication. I've watched buildmarts go smoothly and communication is a huge factor in that, but so is being able to remember what you were doing, where you were going, and managing inventory for several builds.

And as for games that a person can have disabilities that make them unable to be improved upon

I don't watch Grians pov for MCC so I didn't know about his anxiety playing Parkour Tag and Battle Box and I also don't know how often he practices those games or how often he talks with players that excel at that game.

As someone who also has anxiety I know that anxiety can be improved on for some people. I don't know what would help Grian or if that situation could be improved but as someone who does watch him what are somethings that you suggest that could help him?

I have hand tremors so my mouse sensitivity is pretty low, would practicing those games with a low mouse sensitivity aid in his difficulty? Would playing with people who could give him tips help lessen his anxiety? Are there ways to add to those games that would allow a player a bit more ease such as temporary immunity or requiring 2 hits to get tagged?

Like I said I think there's always room for improvement

So why aren't we calling for them to not be played or just nixxed entirely

You are welcome and encouraged to make posts bringing issues to light. Just because I made a post about the ableism of buildmart doesn't mean I don't think other games don't have their flaws. Also to mention I gave suggestions to improve buildmart, despite the fact I don't like it.

And it's incredibly frustrating and sad and upsetting to watch because he gets so frustrated with himself

That's exactly how I feel when George and Dream have to play buildmart, watching them beg for buildmart not to be played and then watching their morale crash and burn as they continue to get frustrated with buildmart. It is super upsetting to watch someone get frustrated with themself especially over things they can't control, which is why I'm calling out buildmart and offering suggestions for improvements.

Not a peep from the community to throw it out

So make a post about it! I'm a huge advocate for calling things out and bring light to subjects that are important to me.

My point in all of this is to say, is it really about inaccessibility, and if so, why aren't we advocating for better accessibility in other games too?

Yes it is about inaccessibility. I'm not talking about other games because I am talking about buildmart. You're welcome to ask me what I think about other games (I can't guarantee that I'd have very substantial things to say but you're welcome to ask).

Why aren't we advocating for improvements in other games? Well 1. because I wanted to talk about buildmart so I made a post about buildmart and 2. Why aren't you calling for improvements?

Anyone is allowed to call out games and put suggestions out there! Just because I made a post about one game doesn't mean you can't make posts about other games!

#buildmart #mcc #blazeanswers #blazerambles #blazebattlesbuildmart

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