TW's Little Slice of Insanity

2021:

2018:

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I haven’t pissed people off lately by reminding them that ALL types of physical punishment of kids has been proven beyond ANY reasonable doubt to have only negative long term outcomes.

So let me scream it from the hilltops:

Stop hitting kids. End of sentence.

2022:

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2025:

For example, being exposed to corporal punishment as a kid makes it more likely for a person to commit domestic violence against a partner. In places where corporal punishment is normal, people are more likely to think that rape and intimate partner violence are normal. Kids who are spanked are more likely to be violent with and to bully other kids.

Spanking is literally teaching a kid that violence is okay and normal and it affects the whole society.

(For those currently saying "correlation doesn't equal causation," you're correct! The point of this study was to determine if there were higher rates of disordered eating in adults who'd experienced corporal punishment as kids. If the answer was no, then there's probably no statistical relationship. If the answer was yes--as it was--the research would then move on to "so is there causation here, or are there other factors?")

I don't bring this up because of the study itself. It was a small pilot study, I haven't seen any follow-up research, and the original isn't available online.

No, I bring this up because the author cited many other studies on the adverse effects of spanking to demonstrate why she thought the study was necessary in the first place.

THOSE STUDIES WENT BACK TO 1939.

ONE OF THEM WAS AN AGGREGATE METADATA STUDY.

If you're not familiar, that basically means its authors were studying studies. They took every single study on spanking they could find within a 70-year span and studied them all to see what patterns emerged. What they found was horrifying:

Every single study in that period, from the most rigorous right on down to "you can tell the authors wanted a spanking-is-good result," showed negative results from spanking. These were as diverse as increased risk of sexual abuse to depression to increased risk of substance abuse to poorer educational outcomes to greater likelihood of committing violent crimes as adults.

But that's not the horrifying part. If you're wondering how that could possibly not be the horrifying part, well...

NOT ONE STUDY SHOWED A POSITIVE TRADEOFF FOR THESE RISKS. NOT. ONE.

There was no "sports can cause injuries but can also improve self-esteem, personal fitness, and teach important disciplinary skills." There wasn't even a "homework has marginal benefits at most."

THERE WAS NOTHING. Multiple studies noted that while corporal punishment could produce the immediate appearance of improved behavior, what was actually happening is the kids were getting better at lying and hiding their undesirable behavior, and they were actually more likely to enter the juvenile detention system. The results were so overwhelmingly negative that even the biased studies deliberately designed to produce "it's good actually" results could not deliver those results.

Wangxian collab with @lunnitavaldez!! She drew the lineart for Wei Wuxian and painted Lan Wangji and the background, and I drew Lan Wangji and painted Wei Wuxian! This was so fun to make, thank you for reaching out to me to do the collab!

So I do want to write them out and put them up somewhere.

I have a fic posted where I put up deleted scenes and extras from TSHU called Time In A Bottle. BUT I wonder if it would be better to put them up in their own oneshot?

Body Horror: Things that cannot happen in real life. EX: The Thing, stomach mouths, eyes on hands, etc

Gore: Fresh injuries, often severe. EX: Severed leg, gutspill, deep gashes, etc

NEITHER: Healed injuries and burns, congenital differences, missing appendages, etc. If I could theoretically go to the store and see that character browsing the isles- It isn't body horror or gore. That's just a person. *AND the amount of people that tag, not just fictional characters, but real human beings as body horror is staggering. Its not solely a fandom issue, ableism and bigotry against anyone that looks sufficiently "different" is prevalent in real life and has devastating consequences.

did up a doodle suggestion for NMJ on patreon~

"You have to promise me. Come back as soon as possible. I'll wait for your letters every day." "I promise you."

So I do want to write them out and put them up somewhere.

I have a fic posted where I put up deleted scenes and extras from TSHU called Time In A Bottle. BUT I wonder if it would be better to put them up in their own oneshot?

Tenna art by @9Aaaalt29 on twt

#they shouldve come to blows at least once for my entertainment lan zhan wouldve fuckin DECKED jiang cheng

#straight up raw knuckled like bichen who??? whats a guqin idk a cultivation technique just fuckin fisticuffs at dawn

#jiang cheng wouldve been So Thrown Off like how does he even retaliate to lan fuckin wangji rocking his jaw with the good ole fashioned 1-2

#zidian crackling menacingly at his fingertips and wangji just there like i fucking dare you do it pussy

#added bonus if jinling sizhui and jingyi are there to witness

#jinling dramatically outraged but like is he outraged that hanguangjun just backhanded his uncle or

#is he outraged that his uncle is fuckin embarrassing him like can you please step your shit up jiang cheng you have a reputation god damn

#sizhui absolutely slack jawed at the sight of his father going apeshit but he figures you know what imma let him have it…

#jingyi is having the time of his life this is truly the Best Day Ever kick his ASS HANGUANGJUN I GOT YO SWORD FUCK HIM UP

Lan Sizhui didn’t have a chance to step forward, was still formulating the permissible ratio of subtle scolding to include in the request for Sect Leader Jiang to forgive his father, when Hanguang-Jun pulled his blade from his waist.

Jingyi sucked in a shocked breath and Jin Ling grabbed the handle of his own sword with an anxious look toward his Uncle, but before anyone could brace themselves, Bichen, still in it’s sheath, thumped heavily against Lan Sizhui’s chest.

“H-Hanguang-Jun?” he wheezed out, hands automatically lifting to grasp the shining blade.

Rather than answering, Hanguang-Jun took a single, long step forward, eyes still set in that odd middle distance he always looked in Jiang Wanyin’s general direction with.

Sect Leader Jiang was clearly thrown, but took a half step closer, chin tilting up and clearly about to bluster, when, still not looking at him, Hanguang-Jun punched him full-force in the face.

Jingyi and Jin Ling both screamed.  Delight and horror crescendo up and drawing every eye in the Jin clan’s vibrantly decked hall to the alcove just out of the way where the two groups had had the misfortune of running into each other.

Coughing blood, from rage or his broken nose or, by the faint clack against the floor, a shattered tooth, Jiang Wanyin staggered back, but didn’t fall.

“You-” he said thickly, eyes already squinting closed as his face began to puff up and bruise.

Hanguang-Jun struck out again.  An almost delicate flick that snaped Jiang Wanyin’s head to the side.

This time Jiang Wanyin rolled with the motion to reduce damage, turning the spin into a roundhouse toward Hanguang-Jun’s face that was dodged with and undoubtedly deliberate casualness, then they were fighting.

Lan Sizhui collared Jingyi and Jin Ling and dragged them out of range.  Jingyi called out encouragement to Hanguang-Jun and Jin Ling to Jiang Wanyin, but neither seemed to see how serious this was.

“FATHER, STOP!” Lan Sizhui shouted over the two of them, heart racing as he hoped the sound of his voice would snap his father out of this inexplicable anger.

It did not.

The dull murmur of casual conversation around them was replaced with a cacophony of screaming and running as people tried to get closer, get away, get a better view; and all ended up tangling together in a wall around them.

Jiang Wanyin’s back hit a pillar as Hanguang-Jun successfully herded him deeper into the enclosed space of the alcove, but just before the next punch could land, he dropped and let himself fall sideways, then rolled and sprung back up in a very unorthodox cartwheeling motion.

Hanguang-Jun’s eyes widened as he watched the motion, mute, fathomless rage tightening the lines of his face even as his expression didn’t change much.

A second later, his left fist slammed into the pillar beside him.

The marble around his knuckles turned to dust, a sizable chunk of it careening off into the crowd of miling feet, and a crack split the pillar straight to the ceiling and all at once everyone realized this wasn’t a petty brawl.

The space around them immediately widened and suddenly those struggling to get closer while yelling for them to stop were given room to rush forward, and Lan Sizhui had a much easier time dragging his two peers away.

No one wanted to be that close to two such powerful cultivators when they were fighting in earnest.

Jiang Wanyin wasn’t able to dodge the next barrage of form-perfect Lan martial style.  He raised his arm to block and watched in shock along with everyone else as his forearm neatly snapped into a right angle under the force of Hanguang-Jun’s fist.

“Wangji!” Uncle Xichen shouted as father threw himself forward to follow Jiang Wanyin’s attempt at retreat.  Right behind him came Nie Mingjue.

Lan Sizhui sagged in relief.

“No, cover Sect Leader Jiang!” Lan Xichen snapped when Nie Mingjue made to head toward Hanguang-Jun.  With only a sharp nod, he placed himself in front of Jiang Wanyin, who seemed equal parts grateful and resentful of the protection through the blood and bruises swelling his face.

“Get out of my way.” Hanguang-Jun’s voice was rough and low in a way Lan Sizhui had never heard it.  Zidian crackled to life behind Nie Mingjue, snapping against the floor.

“Hanguang-Jun!  Lan Wangji!  You dare attack me in so cowardly a way?  Without warning or cause at my own nephew’s birthday?!”

“Not without cause.  And not without warning.”

Lan Xichen bodily grabbed his father, speaking low, though his voice carried in the listening silence.  “Calm yourself Wangji.” his fingers tightened and he moved to place himself more in front of Hanguang-Jun, ducking his head until their eyes met.  “Calm.”

For a moment, Lan Sizhui feared he would bull forward regardless, but as suddenly as he’d struck out, Hanguang-Jun backed down.  Not relaxing by any means, his body none-the-less lost the tension of battle and he rocked back onto his heels.

In jerky motions, Lan Xichen let go of him, leaving his hand’s hovering in the air as Hanguang-Jun took one, then another step back.  Preparing to grab him again.

Hanguang-Jun’s eyes lowered to the floor, rage cooling back to that cold distain - a thin crust over that molten heat - and in two quick jerks, he righted his robes back to a pristene state.  Tucking his arm behind his back, he turned and walked toward the door.

“Sizhui, come.”

Forcing his clenched hands to release the wads of white and yellow fabric he still had a hold of, cool air uncomfortable on the damp skin of his palms and between his fingers, Lan Sizhui hurried to follow the open path through the crowd that was left in his father’s wake.

The next time they were in a room together, Jiang Wanyin said only what was required for politeness sake.  After a pause too long, Lan Sizhui spoke a polite greeting in turn.  Jiang Wanyin nodded as if Hanguang-Jun had said the words himself, then joined him in staring into a middle distance while the cultivators around them tutted and spoke words of relief even as they sighed in disappointment.

The rest of the conference was mild and unexciting.

These gifs are even better when you realize how blatantly aggressive Lan Wangji’s sword placement is versus how passive Jiang Cheng’s is. Like, unless Jiang Cheng is a lefty, his sword would take seconds longer to draw than Lan Wangji’s, which, in a fight, is a long ass time. But, with bichen on Lan Wangji’s left, it would so easy to draw it to attack a motherfucker.

Lan Wangji’s just like: try me bitch

This is the story of Mira, a dying kitten I rescued. I have started a GoFundMe to help pay for her medical bills as I am in a rough place financially. Her full story is posted on the GoFundMe.

Any support is appreciated, either through donations or shares 💖

Thank you for taking the time to read my little comic~ have a lovely day! ✨

@fishwink:

You are in a long-term relationship with someone, very serious, living together, let's assume it's romantic for the sake of the poll.

They once walked naked by the curtainless window and the neighbor caught a glimpse of them. Now, when they take a shower, they walk naked by the window, not lingering just a walk, knowing the neighbor might see and getting a little thrill from it.

Truncated text of tweet from MrPitBull, Mar 11, 2026:

She kept finding women in laboratory photographs from the 1800s. Then she read the published papers—and every single woman had vanished. Someone had erased them from history.

Yale University, 1969.

Margaret Rossiter was a graduate student studying the history of science. She was one of very few women in her program.

Every Friday afternoon, students and faculty gathered for beers and informal conversation. One week, Margaret asked a simple question: "Were there ever any women scientists?"

The faculty answered firmly: No.

Someone mentioned Marie Curie. The group dismissed it—her husband Pierre really deserved the credit.

Margaret didn't argue. But she also didn't believe them.

So she started looking.

She found a reference book called "American Men of Science"—essentially a Who's Who of scientific achievement. Despite the title, she was shocked to discover it contained entries about women. Botanists trained at Wellesley. Geologists from Vermont.

There were names. There were credentials. There were careers.

The professors had been wrong.

But Margaret's discovery was just the beginning. Because as she dug deeper into archives across the country, she found something far more disturbing.

Photograph after photograph showed women standing at laboratory benches, working with equipment, listed on research teams.

But when she read the published papers, the award citations, the official histories—those same women had disappeared. Their names were missing. Their contributions erased.

It wasn't random. It was systematic.

Women who designed experiments watched male colleagues publish results without giving them credit. Women whose discoveries were assigned to supervisors. Women listed in acknowledgments instead of as authors. Women passed over for awards that went to male collaborators who contributed far less.

Margaret realized she was witnessing a pattern that stretched across centuries.

Women had always been present in science. The record had simply pushed them aside.

She needed a name for what she was documenting.

In the early 1990s, she found it in the work of Matilda Joslyn Gage—a 19th-century suffragist who had written about this exact phenomenon in 1870.

In 1993, Margaret published a paper formally naming it: The Matilda Effect.

The term captured something that had been hidden in plain sight for generations. Once you knew the term, you saw it everywhere.

Her dissertation became a lifelong mission.

For more than 30 years, Margaret researched and wrote her landmark three-volume series: Women Scientists in America. She examined letters, institutional policies, individual careers. She gathered undeniable evidence that women in science had been consistently under-credited and structurally excluded.

Her work faced resistance. Many dismissed women's history as political rather than academic. Others insisted she was exaggerating.

Margaret didn't argue emotionally. She presented data. Documented cases. Patterns repeated across decades and institutions.

Eventually, the evidence became undeniable.

Her research helped restore recognition to scientists who had been erased:

Rosalind Franklin, whose X-ray work revealed DNA's structure—credit went to Watson and Crick.

Lise Meitner, who explained nuclear fission—omitted from the Nobel Prize.

Nettie Stevens, who discovered sex chromosomes—received little credit.

Cecilia Payne-Gaposchkin, who discovered stars are made of hydrogen—initially dismissed.

And countless others whose names had nearly vanished.

Margaret changed the narrative. Science was no longer just the story of solitary male geniuses. It became a story of collaboration that included women who had been written out.