Masterlist

in short, think self diagnosis, after extensive research, is valid.

not everyone have access to medical professionals. not everyone have access to competent quality medical professionals. not everyone can afford. medical trauma & medical neglect exist. misdiagnosis exist. medical racism sexism misogyny. etc.

though. to add some nuance: (i am specifically addressing autism but probably applies to most self diagnosis)

1. sites like tiktok and tumblr provide important lived experience lens that hard to find any other place. often play huge part in journey! but tiktok and tumblr should not be only place you do research for self diagnosis.

further, watching one tiktok or one tumblr post is not enough for self diagnosis. know most people who self diagnose isn’t doing this, but do see some people do this.

2. there are late diagnosed autistic people with higher support needs. there are late diagnosed autistic people who are visibly developmentally disabled but their other I/DD diagnosis covered over their autism. etc.

having said that though. overwhelming majority of autistic who self diagnose who are late diagnosed. have lower support needs, are high masking, less visibly autistic. most of them lived their life in nondisabled neurotypical society, mainstreamed, go to typical school, get job, maybe job after job after job fired quit fired again—often forced to be this way, not given choice. which is all distressing. have grief about not being noticed as autistic earlier.

but. you need to know that there are early diagnosed autistic folks, some of them high support needs and/or nonspeaking minimally speaking, some of them who put in special ed, go to “special” schools, who have high support needs, who can’t or not allowed to live independently, who needs full physical assistance with bADLs, who can’t keep own basic safety, who will never able to hold typical job, etc etc… they are still autistic. just because you have trauma about being late diagnosed late identified doesn’t mean for them early diagnosis is a abuse free blessing.

early diagnosed, visibly developmentally disabled people like these often face the blunt of the violence. they are one of the most marginalized groups in our community.

some late diagnosed autistics hold privilege over some early diagnosed autistics. (note i say some—late diagnosis early diagnosis not monolith experiences.)

3. just because you are, say, autistic, doesn’t mean right this second you should be an autistic advocate, or right this second you’re qualified to. i believe all autistic people have important meaningful thing to say about own experience with autism. but being an advocate involves so much more than that.

being advocate involves constant learning, especially from people more marginalized than you and people not similar to you.

being advocate means constant self reflection, means reflect on own privilege and oppression, means reflect on own internalized ableism internalized racism, etc.

being advocate means learning to decenter self, learning how to hold space for others, learning how to apologize and take accountability.

being advocate means learning how to listen.

being advocate means learning how to take responsibility.

being an advocate means addressing own trauma and not project trauma onto others, especially other more marginalized groups.

being an advocate means acknowledging nuance.

newly realized autistics, newly self diagnosed autistics, newly professionally diagnosed autistics (who didn’t know they autistic before professional diagnosis), they all have important place in autistic community and autistic conversations. but being new to this means you have so much more to learn. and you need to learn how to do more good than harm when share own experience and do own advocacy.

4. there is a world of autism experiences beyond your own. listen to them, too.

with all that said. self diagnosis, after extensive research, is valid.

i could use a little help again.

my last paycheck was embarrassingly small and bills cleaned me out immediately. i drive up to hundreds of miles a week for work and gas is stupid right now, plus i need some help with food and other stuff as well. 

paypal venmo cashapp

i’m going to try to delay my car payment, and my next paycheck will actually be good for once, but it’s gonna be another week and a half until i get paid again. i fucking hate having to keep doing this.

"B-but Palestinians can get their freedom with peace not violence 🥺🥺" no. Screw your feelings. The armed resistance against colonizers and murderers is what will give Palestinians their freedom and what will eventually achieve real peace.

An enemy that bombs and uses white phosphorus against civilians doesn't know nor practice what your broken moral compass describes as "peace". Freedom was proven throughout history not to be achieved through kneeling and asking the oppressor to kindly stop. Freedom needs to be taken by force. Your little Utopian way of thinking doesn't work in the real world. Your feelings don't matter because you're not the one living under occupation. Your feelings don't matter because you're not one of the thousands of children who lost their limbs. You're not one of the children who became orphans due to this genocide. You're not the mother who lost her child to the carpet bombing. You're not the father carrying the remains of your child in plastic bags. You're not the newlywed woman who lost her husband. You're not the one at risk of either getting killed any second or losing your loved ones in the blink of an eye!

"Peace" is not really a thing you see during a live ethnic cleansing!

Chain of Command Chapter 4

Having a full time job working for a criminal empire had unexpected cons, and missing meals on the regular was one of them.

It was 9.40pm in Seoul, and Bambi was on the bus home from work with an empty stomach. After her talk with Forrest Lee at Hyeongshin, she had a bunch of tasks that took a couple more hours to complete before she could finally clock out and head home. 

She regretted her choice of not eating before she left for home; she wanted to reach her house quickly so she could start on her boatload of school work, and now she was paying for it with absolutely crippling gastric pains. Just because she had a high rank in the Union didn’t mean she had the physical endurance of her subordinates.  

The bus she was on hadn’t been doing a very good job of delivering her to her destination quickly either, driving so slowly the entire ride that Bambi was surprised it hadn’t been pulled over as a safety hazard, and suddenly coming to a halt at the red light, just metres from her stop. She let out a heavy sigh, unconcerned with the sharp look that the lady sitting next to her gave her. 

It seemed like the universe was determined to kill her from starvation. Forget getting home to do work, she was gonna die in this bus. If she waited any longer, a flock of vultures would probably start circling around her head.

As if it had heard her internal complaints, the light turned green, and the bus started to move again, making its way to her stop. Fucking finally. Maybe God does exist.

The doors of the bus slid open, and fresh air gushed in, tickling Bambi’s face as she stepped off the vehicle and into the outside world. Though the bus wasn’t carrying many people, the streets of Yeongdeungpo were still full, and the bright lights and heavy traffic made it feel like it was still day.

Her apartment was only a quick walk from the bus stop, so it wouldn’t take too long for her to reach home and get dinner from the convenience store underneath, but the short trip didn’t stop her from brisk walking as swiftly as possible in order to arrive as soon as she possibly could. Perhaps running would’ve allowed her to reach faster, but that made her sweaty, and depleted the little energy in her famished body that she had left after her long day of work. Screw this job, seriously. 

At least her boss and her coworkers (which was. Just Kingsley) suffered the same fate. And honestly, she thought she had it better than they did. Maybe keeping the delinquents in check was tiring, but it was the lesser of two evils. Kingsley’s job of following Donald around the whole day sounded fucking boring- she’d sat in on some of Donald’s meetings herself and she nearly fell asleep every time. And she couldn’t even imagine being Donald Na himself. 

Speaking of Donald and Kingsley, she wondered what the two of them were doing at the moment. They usually wrapped up around nine, but sometimes their business matters leached into their free time, and they wouldn’t get off work until ten or so-

Her phone rang, snapping her out of her own thoughts.

She rolled her eyes as she checked the caller ID. Speak of the devil.

“What?” 

“We’re having dinner.” Kingsley Kwan’s monotonic voice was muffled by the sounds of traffic, and she pressed her ear closer to her phone in order to hear what he was saying. “I’ve sent you the location. Do you want to join us?” 

No need to guess what ‘we’ meant. Unless Kingsley had very suddenly (and very uncharacteristically) added a new person to his social circle, which Bambi thought was as likely as him growing an extra head, or perhaps changing his hairstyle to something more fashionable, it meant he was having dinner with Donald Na.

Which also meant, they were probably at some nice, expensive restaurant, while she was brisk walking home deluding herself into believing that she wasn’t actually that hungry anyways. 

She sighed exaggeratedly as she considered her options, loud enough for Kingsley to hear. By the time she reached the restaurant, they’d probably already be done with their meal. What a shame; Donald always paid too.

“So nice of you to think of me, Kingsley.” She said into the phone, a sneer apparent in her voice. She knew he wouldn’t take it seriously anyways. “But I’m nearly home. Sorry.”

She and Kingsley were sort of friends, where they both understood and cared for one another, except with the care part left out.

Due to the isolating nature of their jobs, Kingsley was the only person she hung around on an everyday basis who also worked directly for Donald. The large amount of time that they both spent around each other led to a mutual understanding between the two; they could empathise with each other’s problems, hold a conversation without it being awkward, and banter with one another without coming off as overly familiar.

But also because of the nature of their jobs, every interaction with one another was always laced with the underlying awareness that at the end of the day, they’d both choose the wellbeing of the Union over the other. Or in Kingsley’s case, he’d choose Donald over her. 

Like she’d said, the Union benefited from disloyalty.

She paused for a moment, before adding on. “Thank Donald for me.”

“Hold on.” Kingsley’s side of the call was silent for a moment, though she heard hushed talking in the background, and then shuffling like the phone was being passed over. 

“Bambi. How is Hyeongshin doing?” Unlike his second in command, Donald spoke at a slow pace with a lowered voice; a voice that commandeered attention and respect. Even from behind a phone screen, it still put her a little on edge.

“I informed them about the dip in sales. Forrest Lee assured me that he’d take care of it. Other than that, I think they’re handling everything well. Tomorrow they’re heading over to Ganghak to make a pick up for KHG, I told Forrest to inform me once it’s done.”

“Good.”

Donald paused, and Bambi held her breath for whatever might come next. Though it had been ages since she’d last been reprimanded (and she intended to keep it that way) you never really knew with Donald Na. He liked to take his time while speaking to collect his thoughts, unbothered by the nerves of those around him.

“From now on, make sure you keep as close an eye as possible on the executives. Make sure to make use of the observers that I’ve planted around Yeongdeungpo.”

The observers were Union members whose jobs were to bring any suspicious activity to Bambi’s attention so that she could investigate it and take care of the matter. To pluck out any weed before it had the chance to grow. 

“After all that’s happened with Eunjang and Myles’s excommunication, we need some time to restabilise. While that’s happening, we can’t let anyone take advantage of the weakened state of the Union, especially with the new businesses that require our attention. Report anything out of the ordinary to me.”

“...Okay.” Bambi heard silence in response, before the robotic beep of Donald hanging up. 

Donald was right to be concerned. The boys in the Union were the type to cause trouble regardless of how many times Donald Na had demonstrated his power. In order to keep them in line, he’d have to maintain a tight grip on their leashes at all times.

She sighed as she approached the convenience store under her apartment flat. What sounded better, microwave heated pasta or pizza? 

Her mind wandered to the pick up that was due to happen the next day. 

It was just a simple exchange- Ganghak was just transporting the money to Hyeongshin so that they could drop it off again somewhere else. The Union executives did it all time, so there had never been a real need for Bambi to keep an eye on them while doing it. 

Even now, after Donald’s instructions, she doubted that he needed her to watch over every single transaction done in the Union. However, he did order her to observe them as carefully as possible, and she was in the area tomorrow…

She scrolled through Kakaotalk, clicking the call icon on a certain contact as she pushed the door to the store open. 

“Hey Forrest, there’s been a change of plans…”

~

okay so i'm a lot happier with this chapter than my other ones. for one, i gave myself more time to write this. i know i just posted chapter 3 so it might look like i rushed this chapter in two days, but it was actually supposed to be posted on tumblr two weeks ago. i just forgot about it after posting on ao3.

At times, Reading He Who Drowned the World felt like I was the one being flayed and steamed alive, being cut into a thousand little pieces by a knife. The mental and physical agony the characters go through is so painful it feels even excessive at times. But even when the most horrible things were happening and I was almost losing hope towards the end, I couldn’t even be mad because I could feel what the author was trying to tell me with all this pain and suffering, and I can buy that message 100 %.

Through these deeply painful scenes, the story shows how strict gender roles, toxic masculinity, misogyny and homophobia hurt and restrict us, and how lethal they can be.

Major spoilers after this

I was especially gutted by Ouyang’s death, but I feel like his storyline drove the themes of the story home in a very pronounced way. In the end, Ouyang was killed by the harmful ideas about masculinity and manhood that had been ingrained in him all his life.

His tragedy was never about having to avenge his family, but rather being so entrenched in the toxic culture of pride and revenge and masculinity that he would rather kill the one he loved and retain his ”honor” than put the idea of honor aside and love and be loved in return.

These toxic ideas are also the reason that stops him from forming real solidarity with Zhu. Even though they are both very similar, living as men while their bodies are not viewed as a man’s by the society, Ouyang cannot accept Zhu as an equal because he’s learned to project his self-hatred into hating everything even remotely feminine and female. It’s very upsetting to see how he loses his chance at healing and changing as a person by Zhu’s side, but I think that’s the whole point. This is a book series about broken people and how people who have been hurt sometimes only learn to hurt others, and how patriarchy and other harmful structures pit women, queer and trans ppl and basically anyone against each other. This theme is visible in almost all the pov characters of the story.

Madam Zhang is incapable of letting go of the ideas about what men and women can or cannot do, which leads to her not being able to accept Zhu as an ally and subsequently her own death.

Baoxiang has been equally hurt by narrow views of masculinity and manhood, and been scorned and rejected for his femininity all his life. His pain becomes so all-consuming that he is almost suffocated by his need to revenge the society that has wronged him. In the end, he is only able to survive because he can cast things like pride or shame aside in order to start anew.

In contrast, Zhu is able to not only survive but even thrive in some way bc she doesn’t really care about those roles. Even if she is not a woman, she never rejects or undervalues femininity and is able to use it to her own advantage when needed. She also knows that pride and honor cannot comfort you when you’re dead and she would rather live, and I think this extends to a more metaphoric level too. What’s the point of becoming ”successful” or hanging on to the idea of what a ”real man” should be like, if it only leads to you being dead inside?

Obviously, letting go of these harmful and hurtful ideas and structures can not be a individual effort, but something that needs to be addressed on a more systemic level. That’s why Zhu has to get on that throne herself in order to change the world. And it feels very meaningful that at the end, when she ascends on the throne, she’s wearing a maid’s skirts, owing her win to both the feminine and masculine sides of her.

For me, at least, the very final chapter of the book managed to justify all the awful things that happened. With mercy and grace, Zhu (and Ma!) demonstrate that to make it all worth the pain and suffering, you have to stop hurting and killing others and break free from that cycle of toxicity that their world has been built upon until now.

(Also as a disclaimer, I generally prefer to read about healing and letting go of pain and generally don’t think pain and suffering make things more deep or worthy… but I also think that this book managed to use these elements in a very meaningful way.)

It's about how Mello is a martyr doused in Catholic imagery and about how Near believes in no God, but he believes in Mello. It's about how Near's flimsy spirituality is a Tarot spread and Mello's unspoken faith is sacrificing yourself to save another; a sacrifice he couldn't not make because Mello is meant to be a martyr. It's about Near who had no faith being haunted by the ghost of his own creation that he couldn't not create; because Near is meant to be the haunted.

CHAPTER 235 SPOILERS BELOW

seopass made this chapter specifically for me.

"Walkable city" is not "City where to have to walk everywhere."

"Walkable city" is.

Sidewalks big enough to fit you, your stroller, your wheelchair, your guide dog, or anything else you need when you're getting from one place to another.

Safe crosswalks frequent enough so you don't need to walk in traffic.

Bike lanes to keep bikes out of foot traffic and car traffic.

Accessible and affordable public transit.

Cities where the essentials are close enough you can travel on foot (or in wheelchair)

Cities where it's reasonable to be able to get from point a to point b without requiring you, yourself, to drive

People get so caught up in the "Walkable" part of the term and like to spout "Walkable cities are abelist because not everyone can walk".

Bitch. The modern city structure is abelist because not everyone can drive. And classist because not everyone can afford a car and it's pretty damn impossible to get a job if you don't have a car.

Walkable cities are cities where people can reasonably get from pointA to pointB without requiring a motor vehicle.

"But fae. Disabled people have issues using the paths in modern cities." Bitch abled people can barely use the paths in modern cities. That's kind of the fucking problem.

Also walkable cities have fucking benches. Not only for disabled people. But sometimes you just twist your ankle and need to sit for a moment.

"Put fae. If you have benches, homeless people will sleep on them."

Then get fucking housing for the homeless. Problem solved. They'll sleep in their nice warm homes instead of on the benches.

-fae