Magi, Ace Attorney 💜🤍🖤

Please

Please

Please stop trying to sneak-feed me meat alternatives.

I am willing to prepare and share a vegan meal with you, I’m willing to skip animal products in our group spaces.

Please.

I don’t care about “gmo” and I dont care about the fact that it’s “textured protein” I care about “corn” and “wheat” and I care that people without food allergies rarely know how inescapable some of those allergens are.

“Oh, I checked the ingredients, it doesn’t have corn”

Okay but does it have maltodextrin, modified food starch, xanthan gum, caramel coloring, dextrose, or glucose syrup?

If it does have any of those things do they specifically say “from potatoes,” “from tapioca,” “from cane sugar” or “from rice”?

If it didn’t did you check the manufacturer’s website? If that didn’t say did you call the manufacturer?

Sometimes I’ll use almond or coconut flour as a replacement for wheat flour when I’m cooking. I do not try to pretend that my alternate flour chocolate chip cookies are wheat flour chocolate chip cookies because most people don’t expect to run into coconut or almond when they pick up a chocolate chip cookie. I don’t try to hand them to people, wait for them to eat a cookie, and say “hah, bet you didn’t think gluten free cookies could taste good, huh?” because if I did that to someone with a severe allergy it could kill them, but also because people should have a say in what they’re eating.

I’ve got no problem with beyond beef or impossible burger describing their products as meat alternatives, I’ve got no problem with GMOs or the fact that quorn is made out of a heavily engineered protein. That’s all very neat, actually.

That’s medical speak for:

IT CAN KILL YOU.

Anaphylaxis can cause you to have difficulty breathing or stop breathing at all. It can cause a critical drop in blood pressure or send you into medical shock.

society: autistic people fundamentally don't comprehend [x]

What they did have was a single spare bed in the small, comfortable, quiet, wildly expensive facility for girls with eating disorders.

They asked each of the young women currently living there if it was acceptable that I might occupy a bed in one of the rooms for a while, just the long weekend while I was waiting for a doctor's evaluation. I hadn't been violent, I had gone with the cops without putting up any fight at all, and I was still and I was small and all those things were sufficient for me to be deemed safe. So up they sent me, to somewhere high in Western Psych, above the smells and sounds of the denser-packed wards, above where the care workers were harried and frustrated, to a gentle space with seven or eight young women in it.

I was five foot three, and I weighed about 115 pounds. I was underweight for my frame, as a fair amount of that weight was martial arts muscle; I would probably have been ten pounds heavier if I were healthy, with the amount of activity I got.

I was at least two inches shorter than pretty much every other young woman there, six or seven inches shorter than one of them, and I had at least thirty pounds on several of them. The tallest was not allowed to walk, she had to sit in a wheelchair and be pushed around, because her condition was so advanced that the motion would undo what good her hard work had done.

And over the course of the four or five days I was there, multiple of them came up to me alone to quietly tell me that I had the *perfect* body, and they wished they could be as skinny as I was. That I needed to live, because I was beautiful, and if they were as beautiful as I was, they wouldn't need to be here.

Their eyes were on me all the time, in the hours that I wasn't sleeping. I spent a lot of time sleeping, and we took our meals separately (I not needing to be monitored while I ate, and not having my food weighed), but we spent a fair amount of time sitting around in the little shared living room space, talking about movies and magazines and books we'd loved, talking about our families. I didn't talk about my family; they didn't pry.

They were all so fucking nice.

And I could have broken any one of them over my narrow knee. They each thought they were bigger than I was.

Their brains lied to them, every time they looked at a mirror. Every time they looked down at their own thighs. What they saw was not what I could see. They had bright, beautiful eyes in dark hollows, and I could count their vertebrae, could see their ribs winging when they breathed, could see the motion of every tendon on the backs of their hands.

They weren't celebrities. They weren't being paid to have particular bodies, nor were they deep in the toxic sea of having strangers take photos of them to sell to gossip rags if they stepped out of doors in old jeans. They had families and loved ones who were doing everything that they could to protect them, to uplift them and help them be healthy. They were just everyday people--a nurse, a couple of students, a couple of recent college grads, a young woman who had decided it was time to really get help because she wanted to be a mother--and still they'd been so injured by the neverending fucking deluge of body-image bullshit that they were dying of it.

i feel like they need to be more popular in the fandom

maybe its just me as a trans guy but holy shit standing on the shore at dusk ruined me

a lot of the tales ruined me actually

im still not done reading everything there but oh my days from what i have read i cannot stress this enough JUST GIRLY THINGS NEEDS TO BE MORE POPULAR