LadyAlyaBug from @imthepunchlord‘s newest fanfiction Lucky Fox Paradox

I’m super excited to see how this one will go, with super serious Ladybugya calling the shots. I extended her mask to hide her beauty mark, considering that’s a DEAD give away. And I love the decision to give her a cape <3

Hang in there Chat, we’re rooting for you.


He was trouble that boy but you still found yourself somehow looking across the room when he laughed a little bit too loud, all arrogant smiles and winks at girls and boys who too found them self wanting to know about the creature of mysteries. He left you with a hunger for more, frustrated that this asshole would consume your life. A paradoxy of a being. Snarky remarks and whispered compliments, the smell of niccotine and mint on his breathe sending shivers down the spine. Sirius Black was enigmatic, a fiery force that burned too bright, a force that wasn’t to be reckoned with. - S.K

Current possible names for the Dim Twin

•Oitnemid (suggested by Magicquill42)
•Unverno (suggests by Opalcat2004)

If anyone else has suggestions or a preference, let me know via ask or reblog or whatever floats your goat.

In regards to some Discouse abt trauma survivors stuggling with both growing up too fast and being infantizied and i just wanna add some cents bc its a topic im passionate about as a perpetually mentally ill tween

from personal experience i feel like its often this weird paradoxial thing, you learn all that Adult bullshit from a very young age, but then youre thrust BACK into having to be a child again and the expectations of naivety and irresponsibility that follows.

 you dont get the normal childhood everyone expected. theres something inherently messed up about a traumatized second grader old ritualistically checking vital signs on their loved ones, or the juxtaposition between being an energic, happy 12 year old and staring at the droplets of blood from someone you know wont wake up again. Or keeping sexual abuse you face hidden because you still want your messed up family to still be, well, a family

all of these are very traditionally mature themes, and  the aftermath has involved a lot of having to learn to cope on my own. having to learn basic skills. having to handle very stressful and intense things alone. Not child friendly things.

So now a few years pass by, you have a ton of baggage behind you, a ton of experiences even a lot of adults could only dream (have nightmares?) of. and youre expected to behave like an average high schooler. You go from the role of having to be uber responsible, where if you dont know how to read people or act carefully the consequences are instant. You have to leave behind a lot of more “petty” things, your reality has been tilted on its head and then some more. you have ptsd.

and then youre back, and youre normal. or at least you get treated that way. and its confusing and weird and contradicts everything youve been told. People seem out to coddle you, but its half a decade too late. It feels condescending, unrelateable and terrifying.  Weather its someone saying that a movie isnt meant for you because it deals with violence, and you just have to scoff. or maybe a 20-something that has never had a cruel hand laid on them smugly telling you how hard “real life” is gonna be. everyone else your age has priorities an entirely different place, they have friends, worry about crushes liking them back,  they dont spend several hours a week in therapy or try to anchor themself to some form of job and security.  its like a bizzaro world. 

people still think of you as a child, which, technically is true. but also their definition of a child is so far stretched from your internal identity. You almost feel broken. you may feel inclined to regress and deny the bad stuff happening to you, theres still a side of you that wants to feel secure and warm and coddled, but theres also  still that side that just /knows/ how utterly terrible the world can be and that those experiences will linger with you forever. Deep inside you feel different from your peers in very fundamental ways. you, and people who have spent time with you just know something is up. something that wont be fixed with love or a magic spell. 

the mix of consecension, confusion and resentment associated with having to act like a child after having been forced to be an adult way too early is a feeling hard to explain.

You feel gross because you cant live up to the ideal, you are “tainted” in a way. it becomes clear that in the craze of keeping kids sheltered and safe you have slipped thru the cracks, become an outlier

and most people dont really know what to do with outliers, its easier to prevent damage than fix it

paradoxy thanks for the tag sweetie ^_^

Spell your name with songs and tag ten people

Avant Gardener - Courtney Barnett

No Good - Perfume Genius

The Fire - Television

Infanta - The Decemberists

Gold On The Ceilling - The Black Keys

Obvious Bicycle - Vampire Weekend

Neutered Fruit - St.Vincent

Electric Guitar - Talking Heads

Tagging adamjs luckythelab whole-lies-and-half-smiles whoiwanttofucktoday uptightcitizensbrigade tinygayrecordcollector and whoever wants to join in ^_^

The Crucifixion

My only hope is that God is in hell.
If God is not in hell, suicide is justified.
If God is not in hell, I should have done it when I had the chance.

Because when I fell from heaven
And wandered deepest Nothing,
I found that desert oasis
A sad excuse for home indeed
But slightly better than Nothing.
The resident voices drew me in
And informed me of many things
Of the world and of my self
They spoke mostly truth
Told harmless lies to fill the silence.
The only lie that I believed
Was my only source of comfort:
God did not enter that place.

Finally the world made sense.
O, The bounty of solace in Reason!
In this world I am alone in a crowd
In this world I am an orphan in a family of four
I am a hermitess with a husband and child on the way.
But there.. O, There, sisters and brothers!
You feel alone because you are alone!
You feel unloved because God has forgotten you!

So they convinced me, and so I believed.
But though my soul took refuge in Hell,
My limbs carried me to Church,
Into the very House of Truth
And it was there I saw the icon.
And it was that Image
Which tore the shroud before my face…

I wept.

And I saw.

And I beg you, my dear ones,
If the voices make sense,
Run from that place.
Please run.