#about including 'different' peers socially then when I was a kid? that is so fucking surreal
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In my opinion, Artemis and Angeline have very similar experiences of paranoia as a symptom of
And thus every single family vacation will have a like, medieval war general moment where you can watch them animatedly debate the merits and/or weak points of whatever barricade they've constructed in front of the hotel room door
#I jest but I HC that Artemis' paranoia somewhat genetically comes from his mother's side whereas his issues with dissociation and#reality assessment is more genetically on his father's side of the family#The twins occupy this weird space in the family where they were born after a lot of things exacerbating mental illness in the family were#less present than when Artemis was young due to the Fowl empire#like my personal version of this is watching my aunts' kids grow up in a house where they were diagnosed with autism and adhd really really#young bc their mothers work in early ed. and are really knowledgeable about how to apply that in their home so that they have the support#they need#and let me tell you watching young autistic relatives exist and interact w kids their age who are so much better#about including 'different' peers socially then when I was a kid? that is so fucking surreal#I am very much an 'autistic Artemis truther' and I know Fox has some posts about Tim being autistic too during an era of the Fowls where it#wouldn't have even been 'masking' to borrow a contemporary term so much as just learning Not to Act Fucking Weird ever and performing this#whenever there is someone else present#but to return to the point of this post Artemis and Angeline will see a 5-star resort with insane security and go 'what I'm hearing is that#when the sun sets we will be in the Purge'#Artemis' form of paranoia is fascinating because he experiences it in the 'struggles trusting people and can spiral and believe people are#out to get him and harm him when that is not realistically assessing a situation' but also has horrible risk assessment which is so realist#realistic lmao
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“Shar (real name Sharon)” for the bad nun au is so fucking genius im screaming. Also, SH’s cult being full of radfems is very interesting considering that in-game she’s (or was) super supportive of one of her peers who’s a trans woman (Nocturne) so I like to think the same happened in the AU
Oh yeah, these are also like 70's radfems so their politics are antecedents to modern GC, but distinctly different! More Andrea Dworkin but also homophobic. The Sharrans in Bad Nun are basically a tiny death cult started in a catholic girls school by one charismatic alumnus. Also Shadowheart was like 13 when she was groomed into it. By 16 she was already like, "Oh, this isn't GOOD huh."
At first I considered having the Sharran equivalent be Catholicism the whole way through, but honestly, it just didn't feel true to Shadowheart's trauma in the game! Catholicism is terribly destructive, but it doesn't have the vital Thing that Shadowheart's cult experience had that informed a lot of her trauma: a small, secretive community that was able to be extremely controlling, and a focus on her being "special". As a cult survivor, I think this latter element is really important to distinguishing between general religious trauma and cult trauma.
Cults make you feel special, important - so important and special that other people outside the cult could never understand you, including your family. (Side note, SH's final scene with her parents destroyed me because I think it captured an emotional experience specific to cult survivors that I have very rarely seen captured in fiction! It was brutal!) Simultaneously they are trying to destroy every unique and important thing about who you are. That takes focused manipulation and social control that you don't get so potently from most Catholic communities, because they involve families that are still together and well rooted in their larger, non-Catholic social context. Also only a weird fucked cult leader is gonna change your name to Shadowheart.
That said, her time in the cloister as a nun is an extension of that trauma - its the period where she's still processing her trauma by reproducing what she's learned, not at Shar's whim but because this is all she knows with how to cope. At 27, after 10 years in the cloister, a few years accepting her queerness and a new group of supportive people, she finally begins to move beyond just coping.
Oh man NOCTURNE UGH I LOVE HER I NEED TO DRAW THEM TOGETHER SO BAD .... But in Bad Nun Nocturne starts as a penpal she made while in boarding school though a school letter exchange program! She had a few penpals but Nocturne is the only one she kept up with because they ended up commisterating in their letters about being queer and confused about it. By the time Shadowheart was 5+ years a nun and had started sneaking out into the queer night life, Nocturne had changed her name, moved to London and was living her sexy trans life. Shes an ex-catholic kid herself and a hot goth, which Shad immediately loved, so they're super tight and occasional fuck buddies. Nocturne kept all their letters and helps her remember shit because The Trauma has left Shad with huge memory gaps. (Side note in Bad Nun Shadowheart usually goes by Shad because its a little gnc and makes her feel her femme dykism real good. Jenevelle is basically like... the name of her inner child, who she has a non existent (but hopefully in repair!) relationship with.)
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Twilight Clown Takes—Part 5
In which yet another YT video comes out about how Twilight hate isn’t misogynist, actually, and so I must eat. Om nom nom
“Twilight Is Illogical!!1!1”
We literally have an in-canon explanation for how Bella’s shield works in Eclipse AND Breaking Dawn. Her shield only works against illusions and anything mental. Anything physical she is vulnerable. Jasper affects you physiologically, not mentally. Alice sees actions; she doesn’t actually get into your mind. Jane and Edward’s powers are mental, so they do not work on her. It’s literally the same logic as Harry resisting the Imperious Curse in Goblet of Fire.
(Also, Bella does have a Quileute relative, Molly Swan. Just strengthens my Jacob-as-socially-determined-mate headcanon).
“Twilight Is Pro-Life!!1!1!”
This is where Twilight clownery really delves into full-on deranged.
Every vampire in the Twilight Saga is harmful or potentially harmful to humanity, EVERYONE. The majority of the cast is (potentially) dangerous to humanity in some way, shape, or form. Calling Bella selfish for wanting her (wanted) child to be born is the height of misogyny. No mother who actually wants her child would choose differently. Bella had a plan to survive the birth—a very risky one, but she was willing to do it. And nobody and I mean nobody knew how Renesmee would turn out. This shit was unprecedented and über rare.
Bella was not willing to die for a baby. She was willing to risk her life for Edward’s child.
This was made explicit when Jacob in desperation (following a crazed Edward’s idea) offered to father her children in exchange for Bella aborting hers—only to have Bella LAUGH at him in his face. Bella dngaf about having children per se. It was because the kid she was having was Edward’s.
(Also. Rosalie wants more than a baby. Rosalie wants to be human, which to her basic-ass traditional 20th century mind includes getting married with children. A baby is part-and-parcel to that mortality. What is interesting to me is that, despite the fact that Rosalie is very trad wife and even pro-baby, the narrative still frames her as selfish and self-centered in her vicariousness. Jacob is absolutely disgusted with her for caring more about the baby than Bella, and Edward feels exactly the same way. That is one reason why Breaking Dawn is not pro life propaganda—it is above all a romance, in which Renesmee acts both as an obstacle and consummation).
Everyone was sympathetic to Leah until she became a werewolf and not only brought her baggage but would deliberately bring it up to hurt Sam. Yeah, no shit the Quileute boys would hate her, ditto Jacob. Only when she joined Jacob’s pack did she lighten up (because she was free from Sam!) and Jacob realized she wasn’t bad, just dealing with a broken heart. And honestly a very capable werewolf.
As for Rosalie, nobody hated her for her backstory either. Bella disliked her because Rosalie hated her and wouldn’t even stand to be in the same room with her! Edward hated her as a brother “hates” his sister with two very different personalities. Rosalie’s backstory was very much meant to humanize her.
Twilight Is Racist Round ♾️
Literally every major character is magical. This is a fucking fantasy romance novel! Had the Quileutes been the only magical entities, Clown OP may have had a point. But not in this literal supernatural romance where even regular humans can have magical powers! What is this deranged clownery?
Twilight Is Sexist Round ♾️
“I’ve only ever watched the movies, but—” 🚩🚩🚩🚩🚩🚩🚩🚩🚩🚩🚩🚩🚩
Bella didn’t feel like she fit in with her peers because she was essentially raised as a parent to take care of her mother. As in, paying bills. She didn’t have a normal childhood; that was denied her. Getting out of her parentification is part of her arc and drives a key part of her desire to be with Edward. Edward she never has to parent or take care of in the same way as her parents or even Jacob.
Also, her friends were canonically fake (Angela excepted). Jessica only was friends with her because of Mike’s interest and of the boys only Mike, Ben, and Tyler were interested. Lauren straight up didn’t like her.
“Twilight Is Mormon!1!!111”
Clown OP was this close to getting it. This close.
“Twilight Is ~~~So Ridiculous!!1!!”
Or it could be just basic-ass standard tropes for supernatural/paranormal romance. Y’know, since Twilight is a supernatural/paranormal romance.
…Yeah, this clown definitely hasn’t read enough romance novels, lol. Because let me tell you, Twilight is super sane compared to the shit I have read, i.e. bodice rippers.
And all those bodice rippers were nothing compared to the telenovelas I grew up with. Nothing.
#twilight clown takes#twilight clownery#i may make another just by that one video alone#after the contrapoints one it’s embarassing
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I have been sappy over some human shit I'm not able to experience, and it makes me upset so I'm gonna ramble about it.
Back then I didn't give a fuck. I guess it was bc I was younger and I didn't realize why it was I was different and couldn't relate to the large majority of people. I didn't find it a flaw, I found it I was better than everyone, because everyone was so emotional and distracted by love and their own feelings. When I was focused on what I wanted, smart, strategic, attentive, uncaring for love and just caring about having fun and being caught up in my own bubble of fiction. Yet, the formula for friendship and connection was easy to solve, and achieve.
And now? Well, I am discovering I'm not better. And if you wanna take it there, in reality, a defect. My trauma, my disabilities. It all made me "smarter" than kids of my age, including adults but it doesn't matter. Smart doesn't matter when you start to realize you appreciate the people around you and you want to form connections. That formula is...meaningless at the end of it, sure I have friends but what do I do with them, how do I keep them, how am I the friend?
And that's ... when you start to notice, you're not smart at this, you're at a disadvantage; things that should be natural, aren't because I'm just not programmed like that.
I know I'm not human, not in headspace. We haven't been human since and before a singular host. But I like humans, I want to be part of humans just as badly as I want to be part of animals and nonhumans. Despite me not identifying as such, I wish to still feel human in some way or the other, because that's just the environment I was raised in and... the species so far is the only one that can fullfil my social needs in the way my brain requires it.
I feel so
Alienated. So... strange. Even between autistic and queer peers, my passion, my interests. It all falls short, or overdone.
It feels I am too much, too little. Not enough love, too much passion. A different perspective every time, in a space of millions and millions of people. So little ppl can see what I see, understand what I understand.
And perhaps that is due to my own isolation from fandom and the world too. But I've been looking, and looking, and looking. It only confirmed how...different I am and I don't like it. I am not a fan of it. I had to act, most of things on my blogs and accounts is just purely acting. I have to have a damn persona for every blog, every account.
Because without it I am unable to socialize safely, I am too vulnerable, too true. I am taken advantage of, made fun of, get in trouble. I don't want to deal with shit like that, I just wish to have interesting, deep conversations about our shared interests, I want to share my interest and be shared interest back.
Am I boring? Am I not enough, what is it? Am I only looked for what I can do? Am I just...not like you? Is my persona not credible enough, do you see it? My nonhumanness, my autism, my trauma? Is it uncanny, weird, scary?
A bunch of questions I ask myself when I am sappy like this, but in the end I know I will go back to what the brain wants, pushing away all this doubt that is unhelpful and redundant.
At least I have 4 days left until my next therapy session.
#anyways !! back to silly ppl baaack to sillyyyyyy#cw vent#you can reblog this if you want if you resonate with it#honestly it might make me feel better and that i am not the only one.#but yeah i dont want to keep feeling sad n sentimental about this
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I see back and forth takes like this, and it drives me up a wall. Misattributing the problems TikTok poses to art and creative industries to kids is missing the point. Voicing your disagreement by stating "the kids are alright" is an overcorrection that paints over a different problem.
The kids aren't alright. And young people have been shouting this continuously since the youngest Millennials were in high school. Those problems aren't because of the very normal, very healthy experiences of growing up.
Exploring art, trying new things, and forming opinions on things you care about is good! That includes petty fights with peers, and hot takes you regret down the line!! That's all part of how you figure out who you are. What has been changing are the environments these processes are allowed to happen in now.
Like, let's just put it simply. There's a lack of truly No Grown-Ups Allowed spaces now. Both in fewer physical spaces, and in websites catered to minors. More and more physical areas are actively hostile to everybody, but especially the young. Where can you go when laws prohibit loitering under a certain age? If you live in an active combat zone?
So kids have been forced online, and digital spaces aren't much better. People call TikTok the teenager app, but the biggest content creators are in their 20s and 30s. The Club Penguins, Habbo Hotels, and similar websites have either shut down, require purchase, or have similarly catered more to an audience with readily disposable income (/took the Roblox avenue and turned their audience into free labor). All the options that are readily available mean sacrificing your digital privacy – all for services that treats users as both product and captive audience.
And like, just listening to kids? Hearing them out about how existence is going? The despair is heartbreaking. Clinically significant depression and anxiety is just... normal for them. Not because it's been normalized and embraced, but because it's so common among them and their peers.
And this is something we see with adults, too! Like, even the adults that didn't grow up with smart devices and social media are still being isolated by similar businesses. Media giants are built on manufacturing outrage, tech companies succeeding by encouraging doomscrolling, posts boosted by inflammatory arguments. For people that haven't had this normalized their entire lives! Can you fucking imagine your entire online life being defined by that shit? How that has been tangibly changing art and media for everybody???
Like. I hope the kids will be alright. I really do. I hope they have fun with their media, learn a lot in their arguments, find communities they click with. I want all of my friends' kids and younger relatives to be able to fuck around in the harmless ways I have in fandom spaces or whatever over the years.
I'm worried that they're not okay now, though. And I worry about how tech giants ruling over our media diets can shape both us and culture. Being a kid or teenager now seems fucking miserable. Like, three websites are defining all the terms of play! Young creators are getting burned out so young because the algorithm punished them for not conforming to trending topics!!
Ultimately, these two concerns aren't divorced. But it's not a problem where young people are at fault. They're another victim in on-going harm.
#i've had this thought brewing for like 3 weeks. it has now hatched into fully formed words that i could not keep bottled up lol#tldr: stop! conflating 'kids' with 'social media platforms'!!#bc tiktok and youtube and facebook and twitter all DO have an ulterior motive to cheapening art#the constant grind of content creators is what MAKES these platforms and strong feelings keep people engaged#it is not teenagers responsible for ~falling for it~ or whatever. they've been fucking SET UP for this.#and i think adults should be more angry on behalf of kids that they don't have space to engage in art and interests in peace#art#children#social media#open mic night#media#web 3.0
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Treating Illusions As Real in "Friendship"
Since there are only like 10 people here who I feel like I can definitely trust (at least as far as letting them read the shit I'm thinking about for real on a Still Mostly Anonymous Platform), I think I'm going to use the blog for a bit as a therapy journal. I'm working on coming to terms with how many 'friendships' I've had and nurtured and poured time and effort and love into in my life that weren't real.
The girl I'm going to write about today, I don't think it's necessarily fair of me to call her friendship fake, because I think she's lived a lot of life that makes her so damaged and hungry for a sense of belonging herself that she's been drawn into some shady things and bad decisions from peer pressure.
I befriended R in first grade. She lived in my neighborhood (well...my grandparents' neighborhood) and went to my church and was in my class at school. As an elementary school kid, we weren't fully formed people yet, and all of us just wanted to belong and make friends, so I didn't notice any difference in R than I did any other kid I knew. But in middle school, when I changed schools, the differences became pretty clear. R was the only real contact I had with my past in 7th grade, because she still went to the church my family attended. The nostalgia and desperation I had to maintain any connection to that piece of myself I'm sure is what fed the closeness I tried to build (and thought for years I had actually built) with her. Her parents kept her really sheltered and naive to the point of being in the dark entirely. She wasn't allowed to participate in normal teenage life like dances or sports events or competing on school teams or dating. She wasn't even allowed to watch PG-13 movies in high school. When we graduated from college, and moved into our own respective places on our own, I remember having movie nights with her a couple of times where we watched like...The Breakfast Club and Ghostbusters...movies she'd never seen because she wasn't allowed to. She was a 24 year old college graduate and homeowner, just like me, but unlike me, she had no social life experiences or shared cultural frame of reference with her peers. Like...I'm a pathological introvert who is probably undiagnosed on the spectrum, but at least when someone talks about Michael Jordan or Nirvana or Back to the Future, I know what the fuck they're saying.
Because of this lack of socializing with peers and even having the same reference points, as a young adult, she was behind, and desperate to catch up and find a place she could fit into. We grew up Catholic, which is already a fairly restrictive, guilt-laden religion to be raised inside, but my friend left the Catholic church for the built in social life that came with evangelical Christianity. While it comes with a lot of social outlet included, it's also MORE socially restraining than the Catholicism I grew up with (no one got upset if you drank or gambled a little...shit, that's a church festival; you were allowed to read and watch movies and listen to music and dance to it if you wanted...you were allowed to date, at least in a hetero way...) And she got involved with multiple MLMs. And CrossFit. She made the dating mistakes the rest of my friends, and even borderline totally asexual me made in middle and high school in her mid-20s. We remained (I thought at the time at least) friends through all of this. I invited her to my wedding (she didn't come; along with most of the other 'friends' I invited to my wedding, except for the folks I saw at work every day, and they probably only came for free beer and so they could still look me in the eye when I got back to work from our honeymoon). She made some very unsound financial decisions (out of character for her) driven by desperation for social connection, and J and I tried to help her with budgeting; J even did some repair and electrical work for her for free to help her out when our son was small.
And then, even through 30ish years of knowing each other, and dabbling in a lot of groups that have some cultish traits, and her not showing up for me on some pretty big occasions (wedding, new house, baby...), but showing up to things where she could try and book MLM parties or mingle with other people who felt like Being Christian or Going To The Gym was their identity, she's the friend who called J at work when I left BookFace, to ask why I'd 'gone off the deep end.' She's one of many people who became instantly distanced from me once the effortless (and I don't mean that in the good way) connection of social media was gone. But when my son was in third grade, right after I broke my leg, she called me on the phone (which I hate, honestly, and I'd think after 30ish years of knowing me, she'd know that) and straight up tried to recruit me in her latest group. It emphasized how wrong homosexuality and sex outside heterosexual marriage were (she was still not married at the time and blamed homosexuality and porn for this somehow). And she told me that I needed to 'literally embrace' racists and sexists to show them I believed they were valuable people with something to contribute, and that would magically make them no longer hateful. That was early in 2017, and I haven't spoken to her since. I legit wonder if she's in an actual cult now; I'm pretty sure she was trying to actually recruit me to one on that last phone call.
But then social anxiety tells me all I ever was to her was someone to use...her parents would let her connect to me because of church when we were young; I supplied those movies she never saw and music she never got to hear; I bought makeup I didn't wear from her and helped her when she was in trouble. But when I left social media, I definitely wasn't worth any more effort than passively staring at her phone to maintain the connection, and when a group told her if I didn't join them with her, I was permanently expendable from her life...she cut me loose.
So often in my life, 'friends' disappear once I set a boundary. One boundary. Any boundary. This one was I'm not going to hug racists and join your purity cult. But other ones have been I'm not going to reblog your stuff as soon as you post it. I'm not going to dogsit for you over Thanksgiving weekend. I don't want to come to a party with this person you know has hurt me. I'm not going to emotionally abuse or abandon this other person because you want me to. I don't want to constantly talk about what drives your anxiety when you claim you can't talk about anything else at all to alleviate mine. I asked you for some time before we talked about this if I could talk about it at all and you continued to pressure me to talk about it so I told you that hurt me.
I mean...i feel like most people in my life don't let me have boundaries. Whenever I set one, they bail. We're good as long as I'm effortless and undemanding and willing to cater to them, but I'm talking ONE boundary...and they're out. Or at least twice, they've done something sadistic and cruel to me first. It makes me wary to set them inside most connections, but it makes me even more wary to try to make connections with other people at all. I often feel like the same little shy girl who's always felt different, because I feel used a lot for whatever gifts I can offer another person, and then they don't stay if I can't keep giving whenever they want. That hurts. And not the first friend up there ^^^, or so many others who have left, but the last two really painful exits were also full of lies. That hurts worse.
I always latch onto pieces of fiction and songs that express my feelings for me when my own words are failing, and there's this quote from Markus Zusak's The Book Thief that has stuck with me since the first time I read it:
"***A DEFINITION NOT FOUND IN THE DICTIONARY***
Not leaving: an act of trust and love, often deciphered by children."
I think I've always been seeking trust and love in a childlike way, because all I really want is someone to not leave. I have one friend who only left once, for a little while. And I have J, who's never left since he showed up the first time, not even once. So far, everyone else has. Or maybe most of them were never even there.
#I know not every relationship lasts forever in your life; I'm not totally delusional about real life#but wow it just seems like so many people find it so easy to leave connection with me if I'm not making most of the effort#I don't think I've ever had a relationship other than J and A where it was even close to even effort
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That's pretty funny after 2 years of endlessly pleading set up another Facebook account
I finally decide, I might as well find out what it is they are so desperate for me to see, and it turned out to be nothing but the repetition of the same pointless nonsense
I'm really sorry kids,
I just don't respond to criticism or peer pressure
I have never cared
NEVER
About what anybody said
What they thought what they felt
They are absolutely welcome to it, but it's not going to influence how I see
Or how I feel
I don't need anybody's agreement approval acceptance understanding
Appreciation acknowledgment and even a couple words that don't start with A.
What I'm supposed to care some girl wasn't interested?
Yeah that's not going to happen
LOL
She was very obvious in what she was doing and what her intentions were
That wasn't hard to figure out at all
Why,
That took a little bit
I wouldn't feel compelled to walk back a single thing I said
I think she's a very unique individual
But your belief that her interest would be some kind of sore spot or concern ignores the fact that I told her and anybody who is listening
That she would be the last one
And I would find out what it was about and who started
Suicidal?
Over what exactly lol
when people behave excessively hostile and cruel
It's not difficult to figure out their intent is to bring you low
So I gave it to you, lol it's hilarious that you would buy into your own stupid crap and believe not only that I was suicidal but that I was desperately in love
She was my only lead
So I hit that drum day in Day out, and wouldn't you know?
Some guy I had to talk to you in 5 years pops up in her emails and social media accounts telling me
Come on buddy it's going to be okay lol
Oh I know
It's never not been okay
I just needed more Intel
Oh and you can suck the shit out of my ass regarding the idea any of your bitch ass mother fucking f*@t friends
Where ever in a position to judge or criticize me regarding anything
Let me get this straight? Me wanting to gang bang baby results in the consequence of one of you bitch motherfuckers doing that to me LOL
Well then let me reemphasize I want to gangbang her every night for the rest of her life now what bitch now a punk
Lol
Step up I dare anyone of you punk mother fuckers to step up I will beat the living shit out of you
I'll put you in a skirt sucking dick on Long Beach boulevard for my beer money lol
Things are going to progress a little bit faster now we got a rat willing to point the finger
And guess what it's no one not a single friend or family member of mine as you spent endless hours trying to suggest which was stupid to begin with because I know these people
And they all Adore me
Not only can you not duplicate their individuality you can't even substantiate a reason why any of them would be upset
Lol
In fact if it wasn't for Salem taking an active first hand rolls
I'm not sure I would have even noticed
I offered The narrative of my life story , for two reasons
Number one I had to keep the pressure constant, so I had to write about something
And two being needlessly hateful hostel includes easy to do to people that you don't know and have no connection with
So filling in all the blanks with relatable challenges and circumstances
Was a lesson that appeared to be needing to be taught
Because it is very easy to transgress random strangers who you know nothing about
But when you get to know people and their lives and their hardships and their struggles
Even people you don't like
It becomes a different matter
And you really should recognize the fact that there is no manipulation of the circumstance that's going to buy anybody any leniency
I know exactly who established the intent and it was never anything other than an effort to be hateful and spiteful
In the face of getting caught obviously being the coward that he is everything is going to suddenly become oh no no no it was just part of this wonderful effort to help you in some way bullshit story
But that's not at all what anybody did
And we got a rat, lol pointing the finger at the pedophile
And get this
Under no circumstances whatsoever do I let him slide
No matter what anybody says no matter what anybody does no matter what anybody thinks no matter what anybody pleads
He lied to my wife to break up our family in spite and jealousy
Then he insisted that my ex had molested my son based on his behavior, knowing that
Without some other explanation for his sudden personality change
That I would most likely repeat what he had said
Creating more friction between my son's mother and I
Then he asked me to look up adult clips on his laptop and shared the genres of his interest only to turn around and suggest that an algorithm
Embedded in a Google products apparently identified the searches coming from the laptop apps child predators
At the same time he repeatedly indicated in interest in having sex with 10 year old girls imagining where he honest and open that I would Express agreement or a similar interest
That never happened
But he leveled the allegation
Anyways
He called the police and reported a prowler as I left his home one evening
With the intention of having me arrested
And suggested I should take the child pornography images that he sent me to the police to report it and when I called the police they said not to do that that if I showed up with that kind of illegal media in my phone that I would be arrested for possession
Which was what was obviously hoped for
That along with being defrauded for almost $100,000 and two cars
There is fix to the situation.
He and all his friends are getting a dime upstate
No new place for anybody to be anything
Just a 10-year sentence after losing the civil case
Really
Truly and honestly don't care
Who else or why or what motivated it I only care
That someone who has been nothing but a burden since the day we met
Would imagine to get away with attacking me
After I cut him out of my life for the second time
No family member no friend no son no ex no group of friends nothing will enough to stop me from hammering this fool
No it was a lie
And it was none of his business
But I'm actually glad in the sense that we weren't very compatible but that's not why he did it you did it just to try and fuck me over
Hes either going to prison or into a coma
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Oooo, can you imagine multiple alphas are after an omega PC? It's going to be chaos. They probably be waiting for when PC's heat struck to claim them. But, who will get PC first? Are they beyond kidnapping PC to make sure PC is theirs? *whisper* can u include all the alpha LIs?
Ooo boy this is just the game on hard mode 100% allure.
Decided not to include Black Wolf and Great Hawk - just couldn't think of how they would be different than usual.
NSFW below (tw for kidnapping, noncon)
Alex
The moment you arrive on that farm Alex wants you claimed.
That sweet omega scent calls out to them and they know they have to give you the job.
Still acts kind, still tries to butter you up so you'll like them more.
Uses helping you with more strenuous work as an excuse to rub the scent over you.
But if you come to work one day smelling like another alpha? Alex isn't going to be happy.
Might start a wresting match, just some 'innocent' rough play, so they can rub themselves all over you again.
Offers to let you stay at the cottage from that point on. You're turning a profit now! No need to worry about school or work or whatever it is in that town that keeps you going back!
If you accept then all is well. Alex can move you in and start claiming you fully.
If not, you might have to watch your drinks. Alex has plenty of drugs that can kick you into your heat, have you begging to be taken one way or another.
You'll be their woman/man eventually. Patience pays off, that's one thing Alex has learned with being a farmer. The more love and care you put into a new crop or animal, the better the results. Mating you won't be any different.
Wants to spend heats with you. Wants to breed you, work on the farm while you rest, then come back inside the nest and breed you more.
Very warm, comforting scent. Reminds you of summer afternoons, with a picnic.
Avery
You have to be marked by them if you're in an arrangement.
Initially takes you on because they're sick of being asked when they're getting mated, when they're settling down and having kids, aren't you sick of working so hard?
You're the perfect little distraction. With you around, their peers stop being so invasive.
You have to behave in a certain manner though, you have to behave as Avery's true omega. Its what they pay you for.
So who is this alpha you're walking home with? All bright eyes and laughter?
Avery drags you into their car, sight going red when that alpha hugs you. People are watching, they don't care, not in this moment.
Locks the doors and drives into an alleyway, not listening to your distressed cries.
Pins you down in the backseat and marks you while they fuck you silly. What kind of a slut are you that you just let alphas touch you so casually?
No amount of apologies are going to stop them taking you. What about Avery's reputation, you ungrateful whore? Have you forgotten your place?
If Avery needs to take you home and chain you up to be a house-spouse they will. Its very unlikely, they're more obliged to cut you off and blacklist you, but its possible.
Okay with you spending heats alone, due to their busy schedule.
Scent is complimented by expensive aftershaves/perfumes in a way that let's everyone know exactly what Avery's social standing is. It commands respect.
Eden
You're not getting off the leash. It's far too risky, you'll just have to follow Eden around forever now.
Knows when you've been touching others, spanks you for it and then ruins you till you forget anyone else exists.
Doesn't matter who it is or what context.
Has proven they're perfectly okay with hunting you down wherever you run off to and dragging you back.
People are terrified of Eden, no matter how much you struggle to get away from their grip, the most you'll get is someone yelling out to leave you alone.
Pretty much only death is going to stop Eden claiming you.
Very okay with hurting any rivals. If Eden comes into town to find you with a schoolmate, Avery, or if they treck out into the farmlands and find you with Alex, Eden could get trigger happy.
Drags you back home after, noone gets to see you vulnerable apart from Eden.
No more school. No more worrying about your orphan friend, no more money or debt. Just stay at home. Where you belong.
Never ever let's your bites fade. They're always red raw and fresh. Eden will take time to rub salve into the wound to calm it, but they'll never relent when it comes to marking. Even if it's just you two out here.
No walks by yourself in the woods. Those wolves find you too tasty, what if they take you away?
Natural and overpowering scent. A little sweaty by midday, but after a bath it's very earthy and fresh. Has plenty of blockers on hand to use when hunting. You're not allowed them.
Kylar
The school trio is where shit gets messy as all hell- because they're the ones most likely to run into each other vying for your attention.
Kylar will protect you from afar, with their blow darts.
Constantly appearing out of nowhere and dragging you away from Robin or Whitney. Even if you just walk past one of the others in the hallways at school Kylar knows and will cling to you so desperately.
That line in the park where they tell you they know if you've been thinking of others? Yeah well it has more weight to it now than ever.
Gives you their clothes to wear, if they'll fit. If not, then they take every chance to break into your room and put their scent everywhere - especially your pillow so it can cover you in your sleep. Maybe you'll dream of them, like they dream of you.
More likely to pull knives when you're close to your heat, also more likely to come at Whitney rather than letting you drag them away from a fight.
And when I say go at Whitney, I mean jumping on their back and fighting like a feral animal.
Panics if they pick up a scent that isn't Robin or Whitney. What do you mean there's even more people to worry about? Where have you been sneaking off to without them knowing? Is that where you're spending your heats?
Speaking if heats, will go hysterical if you spend it alone, never mind with others. You're meant to spend it with Kylar, you're meant to let them breed you.
The most prepared to whisk you away at a moments notice once their jealousy hits its peak.
Going to breed you as soon as you're tied up in their basement, going to mate you and mark you up.
Has a sharp scent. Can be a little stale at times, but its not unpleasant. A little citrus-y.
Robin
A lower confidence Robin might let someone else take you, thinking they don't deserve to be your alpha - maybe there's others out there who can take care of you.
Sits rather dejected at lunch when Kylar barges into your conversation to kiss you in front of them.
Looks away when Whitney cops a feel against the lockers.
A high confidence Robin is more likely to say something about it, but they still respect your autonomy.
It's your choice at the end of the day, Robin just hopes you choose them.
Not gonna kidnap or noncon you over it. Prefers that you willingly give yourself- it means more to them, proves how real it is that you crawl into their lap rather than being pulled into Whitney's.
Very gentle during heats. Will try to hold off cumming until you do, to make sure you're taken care of and not in pain. Might stand guard for you if you decide to go it alone, but is scared they'll give into temptation and barge your door down.
Will scent you when you ask. Its a very soothing, clean scent. Not too overpowering or demanding, not too subtle. Just nice.
Whitney
Oh no.
You thought you'd suffered humiliation before? Well now there's competition you'll see something fierce.
Constantly marking you. Constantly scenting, cumming on your face and rubbing the liquids in so you'll be very obviously claimed for all to see.
Will grab you in the middle of a conversation just to make out with you in front of your friend - especially if its Robin.
If you're talking to Kylar? Same thing only they'll ask their friends to grab the freak so they can't get violent.
Obviously fuck you in public when they can, but even Whitney knows how dangerous it could be to do that when you're in heat.
Whitney is strong, but the chance of some ridiculously strong alpha pulling them off of you and claiming you instead drives them insane.
You can go heats alone. Just don't spend them with anyone else.
Gloats when you ask them to take care of your heat. Yeah, of course you want them, who else would do a good job?
Another one who likes you in their clothes.
Surprisingly fresh scent. It's accompanied by smoke and the occasional alcohol, but naturally Whitney is actually rather clean to smell. It definitely turns heads.
#degrees of lewdity alex#degrees of lewdity kylar#degrees of lewdity eden#degrees of lewdity whitney#degrees of lewdity#degrees of lewdity avery#spill your guts#anonymous#tw noncon
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Weird is Good
Summary: A story about two people tryna make it through the age of COVID-19 in a country where people are fucking dumb lmao. My hc is that Spencer would be like wtf at all these science-denying anti-maskers. Also, two teachers just tryna make it through quarantine and remote teaching in a one bedroom apartment (this is taking place during a mandatory leave/lecture cycle).
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Category: fluff
Warnings/Includes: no warnings. reader is both a kindergarten teacher and a bruh girl with a pirate’s mouth. lots of Spencer x factz.
Word count: 3.1k
———
“We’re home for the next two weeks. ”
Spencer looked up from his desk to see Y/N kicking off her shoes, dropping her bag, and walking directly to the sink. “Starting when?”
“We get to go in on Monday to say goodbye to the kids and get any materials we might need. Then we’re home for two weeks. They’re calling it an early, extended spring break.” Y/N began her hand washing routine. As a kindergarten teacher, she’d always been a strict hand-washer. In the time of COVID, she had only become more zealous. She looked at Spencer. “Have you heard anything?”
“Since we’re so close to the end of the semester, the department head thinks they’ll try to finish out the year as normal.” He set down his pen. “I honestly don’t know. It will all depend on whether people follow the CDC guidelines. The spread of any virus is deducible mathematically, and SARS-COV2 is no different. Based on the outbreak in Italy prior to their lockdown, we can accurately describe its reproductive number, or Rt, to between 2.43 – 3.10.”
Y/N shut off the water and dried her hands on a paper towel. “In layman's terms, Dr. Reid.”
“The Rt tells how many people are infected by the contagious host,” he explained. “In the case of this strain, each infected person is infecting between two and three others. For comparison, the standard seasonal flu has an average Rt between 1.4 and 1.7.”
“So in other words, fucking yikes,” Y/N groaned. She moved to perch on the edge of Spencer’s desk.
“Indeed,” Spencer agreed. “We know how fast the flu can travel through an office or a classroom, so imagine if it was two times as transmissible. But it's also really important to understand that this number changes depending on the mitigations in place. Even prior to full lockdown, mask wearing and social distancing was somewhat common in Italy, so it’s likely the uncontrolled Rt is higher.”
“Jesus Christ.” Y/N scrubbed a hand over her face. “We’ll probably never go back.”
Spencer rubbed his hand up from her ankle to the inside of her knee. “The good news is there’s nothing special about this virus compared to others in terms of how it spreads— it’s just aerosols. So if everyone wears their mask, we’ll be able to keep the spread low.”
⧭⧭⧭
“It’s safe to say that everyone did not wear their fucking masks,” Y/N snapped. She watched from the couch as Mayor Bowser delivered the news that DC Public Schools would remain closed for the remainder of the year. “This is crazy. I mean, I knew it was coming because people in this country are absolute buffoons.” She looked at Spencer, fingers pressed to her temple. “But holy shit, are we ever going to be able to go outside again?”
“With schools and universities closed, people working remotely, and lockdown orders in place, the Rt in the US could stay low. But masks have to be worn at all times, and social distancing has to be strictly followed.” Spencer pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I just— I can’t believe people are refusing to wear masks. The empirical, peer-reviewed data clearly shows—”
“This is ‘Murica, boy.” Y/N mocked. “Ain’t no tyrannical government gonna tell me what to do!” She rolled her eyes. “Trust me, your choice to abstain from social media is paying dividends to your sanity right now.”
Spencer looked truly dumbfounded, setting his newspaper down in his lap. “But that’s just it. It’s not just in social media circles.” He gestured to the article in front of him. “This economist just argued for ‘reopening’ the economy using the justification of herd immunity. Herd immunity can be a plausible option for less lethal diseases. But this virus is not like varicella—the chickenpox,” he clarified at Y/N’s raised eyebrow. He waved his hands around in exasperation. “Putting aside the fact that one facet of herd immunity is vaccinating as many people as possible, its success completely hinges on the Rt of a disease. If you model a population based on an Rt of 2.5, herd immunity wouldn’t be achieved until approximately sixty percent of the population has been infected. Consider that the US population is currently 328 million, and sixty percent of that is 196.8 million. The current mortality rate for SARS-COV2 is 3.06 percent. 196,800,000 multiplied by 0.0306 is 6,022,080. Over six million people would die. It's simple mathematics.”
Y/N let out an exasperated breath. “It used to be that simple math and facts were enough. Now you’ve got basement scientists who think they know better than actual, literal scientists who’ve spent their entire lives studying these things.” She ran a hand over her face and gestured at the news conference still playing. “How long do you think it’ll be before we’re both trying to teach from this tiny ass living room?”
⧭⧭⧭
“Goooooooood morning, kindergarten! It’s Friday, and no Friday is a bad Friday!” Spencer smiled. As he poured his first cup of coffee, he hummed along with Y/N and 23 six-year-olds as they sang their morning song. Observing fourteen days of remote kindergarten from across the living room had given Spencer a new appreciation for elementary school teachers, particularly Y/N. She sang, danced, conducted science experiments, held puppet shows, read stories, led art projects, and fielded questions for four hours a day— three hours less than when they were in the school building. He was exhausted by proxy.
But he was also grateful for the opportunity to watch Y/N in her element. Even though they were at home, she still got dressed every day in bright, patterned sweaters and dresses— her Ms. Frizzle attire, she’d told him once. She was able to channel her personality into a kid-friendly version that her students clearly adored, never afraid to be silly or strange to get their attention and keep them engaged during the long days. He worked from home whenever possible, strangely happy to have the background noise of kindergarten over his quiet university office.
...
“Okay, but where do I put the biiiiiiiiiiiig number?” Y/N made a wide gesture with her arms. “Ariah, where should I put it? In the big box, yes! But oh no, my small number needs a friend. My three is soooooo lonely!” Y/N drew her mouth into a pout. “DJ, how can I help my three not be so sad? You’re absolutely right, let’s put that two right next to him in our number bond.”
…
“I’ve been waitin’ for a girl to mute,” Y/N sang into the gold karaoke mic. “I said, muuuuuuuuuute, I’m blinded by loud sounds. No, I can’t hear the friend who’s tryin’ to talk.”
…
“Oh boy. Kev, honey, we can— we can see you. Kevin, Kevin, Kevin. We can see all of you. I can’t turn your camera off, buddy. You gotta— there we go.”
…
“Mute please, I need— I need everybody to mute, please. Oh my goodness where is that music coming from?” Y/N frantically searched for her index card with the picture of the mute icon, as the sounds of a highly inappropriate song blared through the computer speaker. “I know it’s so loud, guys. Why is my mute power gone?! This is why we need to make sure we keep our mute button on, kindergarten.”
…
“No sweetie, it’s not time to log off yet. I’m sorry, I know it’s such a long day. We have about an hour left. Do you guys wanna do a countdown? It’s the fin-al count-down! Do-do doo dooooo. Do-do-d-do-dooo…”
…
“Annnnnd, I should see all my friends on mute. William, hang on just a second. All my friends need to look at my picture, it’s an oval with a line through it… Okay, William, what did you bring to show us?” Y/N leaned toward the computer screen. “Grandma Kathy? O-oh, she’s— she’s in the—“ Y/N’s eyes widened. “Is that— is that an urn? Oh wow. Um, well, wow. It’s beautiful. Thank you so much for sharing that with us, William. Grandma Kathy, may she rest in peace.”
⧭⧭⧭
A week into Y/N teaching kindergarten from their living room, the university had announced its transition to online coursework for the remainder of the academic year. Spencer had to host his first zoom lecture, and he was absolutely dreading it.
“Spence, it’s going to be fine. It’s not like you’ve never been on a video conference,” Y/N assured him. She sat cross-legged on the couch, waiting for him to let her in to his practice zoom.
“Yeah, but I wasn’t running those meetings. I just showed up.” He squinted at the computer screen. “Are you in?”
Y/N barely resisted the urge to make a joke, knowing that Spencer probably wouldn’t appreciate the innuendo. “No, you have to admit me.”
“What do you mean? How do I do that?”
“There should be a box with a button that says admit.”
Spencer gestured at the computer. “Well there’s a bunch of boxes— which one should I be looking at?”
Y/N sighed and got up from the couch. “IQ of 187 and can’t find the box.”
Spencer dragged a hand through his hair. “I know I shouldn’t find this so difficult. I’m sorry you have to waste your time on this.”
“Hey, it was a joke.” Y/N grabbed his hand from where he was frustratedly pulling on his frazzled curls. “I’m sorry. That was mean and you’re already stressed enough.” She used her free hand to smooth his hair back into place. She scrunched her nose. “I love you and your limited technology skills. And honestly it’s kind of nice to have one thing I can actually teach you about.” She squeezed his hand, leaning over him to peer at his computer screen. “All right, let’s find that elusive admit button.”
When the day of his lecture rolled around, Spencer thanked all the atoms in the observable universe that Y/N had a break during his class. Within the first ten minutes, he’d managed to accidentally kick himself out of his own meeting and then somehow lose track of the screenshare button.
“No one can see me and I don’t know what happened to the screenshare option. It was there and now it’s just… gone,” he told Y/N.
She leaned over his desk, eyes tracking over the screen and mouse clicking around the desktop. “How in the world did you manage to block your camera?”
“I don’t know! I didn’t even touch it!” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t understand how it’s even possible to be this bad at this.”
Y/N bumped his knee with her own, pulling up his camera settings and preferences. “Relax. You can’t be good at everything. It’s a refreshing reminder that you’re a mere mortal like the rest of us.” With a few rapid clicks, Y/N unblocked his camera and located the screenshare bar. “There. Crisis averted. I’m just going to share your whole screen in case you want to toggle between application windows. So just be aware that they’ll be able to see everything. And then you just click here when you’re ready to stop sharing.”
When Y/N turned her head toward him to check that he understood, Spencer grabbed the side of her face and caught her lips in a kiss. Y/N smiled against his mouth, heart speeding up as he traced the seam of her mouth with his tongue.
“Um, Dr. Reid? Your um— your camera’s working now.”
Spencer nearly fell out of his chair, his cheeks about the color of the Leave Meeting icon. Y/N dropped her head, debating whether she wanted to laugh or let the earth open up and swallow her whole. She ultimately decided to compose herself, stepping back and giving a little wave to the sea of tiny, grinning zoom faces before slinking out of frame, miming sorry to one very mortified professor.
⧭⧭⧭
“Would you want to be our mystery reader next week?” Y/N asked, bookmarking the page of her novel and reclining back in bed. “You just have to pick a story to read. Oh, and think of four clues about your identity to give the kiddos.”
Spencer raised his eyebrow, continuing to read. “Any story?”
Y/N laughed. “Well they’re six, so maybe hold off on the Chaucer and Bradbury for now. A picture book would be preferable.”
“Did you know that the first picture book, Orbis Sensualium Pictus, or Visible World in Pictures, was published in 1658?” He looked up from his own book. “Czech educator John Amos Comenius wanted to create a book that would be accessible to children of all levels of ability. The educational theories he explored are actually still in practice in the field of early childhood education.” He turned toward her from his spot under the covers. “For example, when you have your students make a hissing sound and slither their arms when they produce the sound represented by the letter s? Comenius included an alphabet chart with various animal and human sounds representing each letter. He wanted to demonstrate that the incorporation of multiple senses could help increase learning.”
“I guess you don’t fix what isn’t broken,” Y/N mused. “300 years later, and we’re still using the same methods.”
“362, actually,” Spencer corrected.
She gave him a look. “Maybe we can save the Comenius for another time.”
“The genre of children’s literature encompasses some of the most profound and philosophical story telling of all time.” Spencer returned his attention to his reading.
“...So is that a yes?”
Spencer smiled. “I’ve got a book in mind.”
“And clues,” Y/N reminded him, snuggling down under the covers and reopening her book. “We need some fun clues, mystery reader.”
…
“Kindergarten, we have a very special mystery reader this week. Oh man, are you ready for the first clue? The mystery reader loves jell-o! Raise your little hand if you love jell-o, too. Okay, kindergarten, I see you! Lots of jell-o lovers in the house.”
…
“Okay, clue number two! Our mystery reader works as a community helper— remember we learned about all different kinds of community helpers; firefighters, nurses, police officers. But if the mystery reader could be anything, they’d want to be a cowboy! How cool is that?”
...
“Clue number three for our mystery reader!” Y/N sucked in a gasp. “You guys. The mystery reader can do magic. Oh my goodness, I am so excited for Friday,” she sing-songed. “Will they show us a trick? Hmmm, I don’t know. Maybe if you ask nicely.”
…
“Okay, my friends, the last clue. The mystery reader loves reading. They read every day, and they’ve been reading since 1983! Yes, that was a very long time ago.”
⧭⧭⧭
“Okay, any last guesses about who our mystery reader might be?” Y/N questioned.
“I think it’s your dad,” a little voice called out.
Spencer made a choking noise from where he sat, slightly off camera. Y/N laughed. “The mystery reader is decidedly not my dad, Keyshon. Remember I showed you guys the picture of him— my dad’s a farmer, so he’s kind of already a cowboy.” She clapped her hands together. “Okay, without further ado, drumroll please... Our mystery reader is…” Y/N pushed her desk chair out of frame to allow Spencer to roll in, holding her hands out. “Spencer!”
He gave a little wave, smoothing his hair, suddenly painfully self-aware and nervous about the opinions of two dozen six-year-olds. “Hi guys.”
“You’re the boy on Ms. Y/L/N’s phone.”
“Your hair is so fluffy!”
“Do you have a cowboy hat?”
“I like your sweater.”
“Can you really do magic?”
“What’s your favorite jell-o?”
“Whoa, okay, let’s remember our mute button,” Y/N, holding up her index card. “I promise you’ll get to ask Spencer all your questions after he reads the story.”
Spencer smiled at the excited faces beaming through the screen. “Yes, I’m on Ms. Y/L/N’s phone; I don’t own a cowboy hat, yet; yes, I really can do magic; and the red jell-o is my favorite.”
Y/N watched with interest as Spencer pulled out his book. He’d been secretive about his choice, so she was as curious as her students.
“This is one of my favorite stories. It’s written by Munro Leaf, and illustrated by Robert Lawson. It’s The Story of Ferdinand.” Spencer held the cover up to the camera. “Ferdinand is the bull here on the cover. This story was written in 1935, which was a long time ago! Okay are you ready?” Spencer looked out on a sea of thumbs up, turning the page to the beginning of the story. “Once upon a time in Spain, there was a bull, and his name was Ferdinand.”
Y/N smiled as she listened to Spencer read each page, recounting the story of the peaceful bull. He was an excellent storyteller, changing the inflection and expression of his voice to match each sentence. He held each page up for just the right amount of time, panning it so her students could see each detail of the black and white pictures. He added his own wonderings and exclamations here and there, and her students were decidedly enthralled. Her heart ached at how comfortable he was, how natural this was for him. She rested her chin in her hand, trying to keep her mind in the present— ignoring the persistent little mental image of Spencer as a dad.
“So they had to take Ferdinand home. And for all I know, he is sitting there still, under his favorite cork tree, smelling the flowers just quietly. He is very happy… And that’s The Story of Ferdinand.” Spencer closed the book with a soft smile. “I love this story. Ferdinand is a very special bull. What do you think makes him so special?”
“Ferdinand didn’t fight,” a little voice piped up.
“Yes!” Spencer agreed. “He practiced pacifism in the face of the persistent, ingrained militarism of his country’s culture.”
Y/N placed a hand on Spencer’s knee and gave a quick squeeze. “Right, Ferdinand chose not to fight, even though everybody else he knew wanted to.” Y/N winked at him before turning back to the screen full of kids. “All his friends thought he was kind of weird, but he just really wanted to hang out in the shade and smell the flowers, huh? Sounds pretty good to me.”
“He wasn’t bothered that the other bulls thought he was strange for wanting to be peaceful,” Spencer added. “Sometimes being different can be a good thing. The Story of Ferdinand reminds me that it’s okay to be yourself, even if other people think you’re weird.” His eyes met Y/N’s. “Because there will always be people who love and appreciate you for who you are.”
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x you#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#criminals minds self insert#dr spencer reid#professor spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#criminal minds#homoose writes
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An Autistic’s Perspective on Tears of Themis’ Representation (spoiler alert: it’s bad)
Before you read, I should warn you that there will be spoilers for Chapter Five! Read at your own risk. Also, trigger warning for discussions of ableism and harmful disablility stereotypes. I get pretty heated as well, so if you’re not a fan of swearing and stuff, then it might be best to skip this.
So, I was debating whether or not I wanted to talk about this, mostly because this game doesn’t do anything new in regards to the perception of autism in media. Unfortunately, it ends up leaning into a lot of not great tropes and goes into “what the fuck that’s incredibly offensive territory” waaay to quickly. So here I am.
The most prevelant character with autism (or who we start out thinking has autism. Don’t worry, I’ll get to that) is a small, supergenius child (a boy as well *sigh*) is so overdone at this point that there aren’t many new criticisms I can say. The stereotype of autism presented in media is overwhelmingly extremely intelligent (usually with sciency or math based interests) men with no ability to socialize or be kind to others. This not only paints autism as a disability that effects men primarily (which creates intense stigma around AFAB autistic people and makes it harder for us to get diagnosed or believed), but also creates this expectation of greatness. Autistic people are often held to superhuman standards, which further others and dehumanizes us in the eyes of allistic people. The vast majority of autistic people are not savants, and that it perfectly fine.
But all of this is pretty standard. The red flags started popping up when it was revealed that the autistic kid, Hugh, doesn’t actually have autism and is faking it in order to keep people from asking hard questions about him or trying to pry into his life (which is full of secrets). I’m definitely not a fan of perpetuating the idea that people fake diabilities in order to manipulate people, so this plot twist was not my favorite. However, it wasn’t really enough to inspire me to write a whole ass essay about the representation. And then I got to the fucking text conversation with Vyn.
Here is where I’m gonna put a trigger warning for talk about eugenics, curing autism, ableism, and basically just a fuck ton of awful shit. Fuck, this makes me so mad.
So, I went in and took screenshots of both options just to see, and all of them lead to terrible bullshit. Lets start out pretty light with the MC and Vyn discussing symptoms.
This is a pretty limited and honestly incomplete explanation of autistic behaviors. These can definitely be symptoms, but they’re heavily overcovered and really basic. A lot of autistic people don’t have these symptoms, and it would be really nice if more media branched out and covered more of the spectrum. However, considering they don’t do anything different in any other areas, I’m not surprised.
Also not a fan of Vyn’s use of “abnormal.” It has some very negative connotations and is a bit insulting, honestly. These behaviors are perfectly “normal;” they’re just not as accepted by neurotypical people. Plus, no behaviors can really be labeled as normal because humans are complex and different.
That was the easy shit. Let’s get into the truly awful garbage.
This is treading into ABA territory here. For those of you who are unaware, ABA is pushed as the best autistic therapy, but a large majority of autistic adults consider it to be abusive and unhelpful. This is mainly because it seeks to “correct” many behaviors that are helpful for autistic people. It seeks to surpress stims (which are behaviors that improve the mental health of autistic children), force us to talk (as opposed to letting us use sign language and technology), and more. This harms our mental health and makes us ashamed of who we are. These behaviors do not need to be “corrected.” We don’t need to act “normally.” All this therapy does is make us more palitable for neurotypical people, and it’s bullshit.
It also doesn’t help that ABA was pioneered by Ivar Lovaas, a man who did not believe autistic people were human. He developed ABA as a way to “build a person” using harsh punishments such as withholding affection and ELECTRIC SHOCKS. If you think this is a think of the past, you’d be wrong. Electric shocks are still being used to harm disabled people. Look up the hashtag #StopTheShock to learn more and help push for legislation that bans this practice.
Oh, and did I mention Ivar Lovaas also inspired gay conversion therapy? Because he did! So yeah, fuck ABA and fuck Vyn for performing it (god damn it, Vyn, I liked you a lot).
And now, onto the eugenics. Fuck my life.
FUCK! THIS! BULLSHIT!
I am so tired of autism being treated as this horrific disease that needs a cure. I had a perfectly fine childhood. Yes, it was hard at times, yes I got traumatized, but a large part of that was due to ableism and abuse from teachers and peers. A large reason why autistic people suffer is because the world is not built for us, and we are often denied accommodations that would make our lives better.
It is beyond offensive and disgusting to suggest that we would be better off not existing than “suffering so much” because of autism. Because that is what this game and everyone else who thinks there should be a cure is suggesting. There is no me without autism. it literally affects my brain structure. You are wishing for a completely different person when you tell me that autism should be cured.
Now, I’m not going to get into the horrible consent issues that arise from talks about a cure, including genetic editing, fear mongering to parents so they think abortion is the only option, and straight up Nazi style eugenics. I do not have the spoons to delve into that exhausting discussion. But if you want to know more, then there are so many incredible autistic people who have written blogs, Twitter threads, and more about why a cure is a terrible idea.
Oh, and if you’re going to come at me with the “severely autistic people should be cured” bullshit, don’t bother. There is no such thing as “severe” autism, first of all, and second, non verbal autistic people (which are who people think of when they talk about “severe” autism), largely don’t want a cure. There have been so many surveys of tens of thousands of autistic people, and the result is that the overwhelming majority do not want to be cured. We want support and proper accommodations. Listen to us.
So, in conclusion, fuck this text conversation and it’s ableist and offensive bullshit. I really wish ToT had stayed away from autism, or at the very least did not touch on therapy or a possible cure. For a game that is about genetic experimentation on children and how bad that is, it sure peddles a lot of eugenics.
Fuck, this text conversation actually made me ill and I hate that. I’m so done with constantly trying to prove to the world that I am a human being who deserves to exist. I’m gonna go cuddle my service dog now.
#tears of themis#vyn richter#autism#autistic perspective#autism representation#seriously can we stop treating my disability like a disease? Is that so fucking hard?#i don't need a cure#i deserve to exist#aba is abuse#autistic people deserve to exist#hugh tears of themis#tot#tot vyn#god damn it vyn I simped for you
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Domesticated Drabble
Pairing: Bang Chan x Y/N
Genre: Marriage AU; Sequel; Drabble
Warnings: So. Much. Fluff. (small smut scene at the beginning); language
Request:
A/N: Finally finished this one! Please enjoy another taste of my favorite AU!
5 Years Later
“We’ve got five minutes,” I whispered against the pulse point on Chan’s neck, the throbbing vein pumping hard as he panted for breath from above me, eyes shut tight together as he moaned.
“I’ll blow at any second,” Chan cursed, laying sloppy kisses wherever he could reach while fucking me hard and fast.
“Your cock feels amazing,” I practically purred, digging sharp nails into the milky white skin of his back, legs closing in around his waist to keep him close.
“Oh, sweetie, you’re laying it on thick this morning, aren’t you?”
I clenched a vice-grip around the length pumping inside me in response, sending Chan’s hips stuttering against my own. “I’ve got kids in the next room who can wake-up at any second. Excuse me for trying to inflate your ego.”
“That’s not the only thing inflating,” Chan gasped, curling his fingers through mine.
“You’re gross,” I huffed, closing my eyes and throwing back my neck as best as I could in this position: laid out under my husband, orgasm approaching at a meteoric-level speed, and sweat coating my skin in a delightful sheen as the muscles around my abdomen worked overtime to milk Chan for everything that he had before the moment was ruined by my kids.
I half-expected them to burst into the room unannounced at any second, oblivious to their parents fucking in much of the same way that created them in the first place. Locked together with limbs intertwining, sucking in each other’s air, and kisses rough and demanding.
Fuck it had been far too long since Chan and I had last done anything even remotely this intimate, and it was still necessary for us to go at it as fast as possible to prevent unwanted eyes from accidentally catching us at the height of our passion.
I couldn’t help but glance at the clock, realizing that we had been fucking for almost ten minutes, and the alarm had been set for 7:00 AM so that I could somehow wrestle my kids together for their first day of school.
Damn, this is gonna turn out to be a very long day.
“Are you close?” I asked Chan, connecting our lips for a sweet kiss since I personally knew that they were a weakness of his.
“Yeah,” he said, features collapsing into a look of pure concentration as a guttural moan found its way crawling up his throat to release itself at the same moment when I could feel his release emptying into the condom separating us from complete skin-to-skin by a thin layer of latex.
But I insisted on wearing them now.
“You’ll cum too, sweetie,” Chan whispered, laving his tongue across the pad of his thumb before reaching down to connect with my clitoris, drawing rough circles in random patterns to snap the physical breaking point: holding my tongue to prevent myself from screaming as I rode the waves of pleasure until nothing was left but a delicate haze and the sensation of Chan’s cock still stuffed inside my spent pussy.
As it turns out, aftercare with Chan was the equivalent of my husband spewing my praises while insisting on letting his cock soften completely before pulling out: cock warming at its finest.
“Do you plan to pull out?” I asked him, smirking when he whined and buried his face into the side of my neck.
“It’s been a while since we’ve been like this,” Chan remarked.
“The kids need to get up soon,” I said, although there was a sleepy pull weighing down my eyelids. A good fuck tended to wear me out. “They’ve got their first day.”
“Yeah,” Chan agreed, but he made no effort to separate us. In fact, I could imagine us both easily falling back to sleep.
“You’re coming right?” I asked around a yawn. “To their Kindergarten orientation or whatever the hell they call it.”
“Of course,” Chan said, and he finally lifted his head from my shoulder, gaze soft as he took his time to explore my features. “I can’t miss that.”
“What? Watching the teachers drag them away for the first day of the education system they’ll be stuck in for the next thirteen years?”
“You have a way with words, sweetie.”
I grinned. “Maybe I’m just using words to deny the weirdness of my kids starting school and making me feel like I’m 100 years old.”
“It feels like they were just born,” Chan agreed, and he slowly rose himself into a sitting position, climbing out of bed to give me the best view of his naked ass.
“Your ass looks great by the way.”
“Thanks,” Chan snorted, reaching for a pair of black slacks from the floor. “I’m taking a shower.”
“Fine,” I groaned. “I guess I’ll go awaken the sleeping monsters.”
“Let the chaos begin,” Chan announced, closing the bathroom door behind him as I reached down deep into the reserves to muster enough energy to finally get out of bed.
At the risk of sounding too long-winded, the best way I could describe my twins was with a touch of irony. Because, despite looking identical to one another, my girls couldn’t be more opposite in terms of personality.
Leah, the eldest by one minute, was boisterous, loud, and unapologetic when it came to being herself. She was the epitome of a social butterfly, jumping from one person to the next and asking questions that occasionally raised a few eyebrows because of their brazenness.
Her sister, Rose, was nothing like that. In fact, Rose hardly spoke at all, choosing to listen instead, and offer her voice only when she truly felt the need to include it. Of course, side-by-side, they were another thing altogether, far too energetic for me to handle.
This morning was no exception, chasing Leah around the house because she refused to change out of her pajamas, questioning me relentlessly on why it mattered that she had to change.
“I should wear what I want!” she insisted, and I had nearly lost my patience with her until Chan entered the room, and he was one of the only people who could talk through to Leah.
Him and Felix, of course.
Before Felix moved out, he and Leah were practically inseparable, and I could see her uncle’s influence in a lot of different ways.
“You want to look your best to make new friends, right?” Chan asked her, and after a laughable look of concentration, Leah nodded and allowed me to change her into a much more suitable dress.
“There,” I grumbled, turning my attention to Rose who was more willing to be dressed.
“Let’s go have breakfast, yeah?” Chan whispered to Leah, and she smiled and giggled at her father as he took her hand and led her into the kitchen.
I scoffed at how easy he was able to manage her, glancing at Rose who was even more quiet than usual. “Aren’t you excited for your first day?”
She shrugged, looking down at her hands. “I don’t want to leave you.”
I could feel my heart breaking at her sweet words, cupping her face between my hands as I tried to reassure her that she would still see me in the afternoons and evenings. “It’s just a little break,” I said, but I knew that Rose was harder to convince.
In the meantime, Chan and I worked together to have both twins fed and ready to leave the house, packing them lunches for school before ushering everyone out the door because we were teetering on the edge of being too late.
At least Chan had the wherewithal to warm-up the car, and it gave us more time to fasten everyone into their car-seats before pulling out onto the main road, speeding into the downtown district with the clock ticking away. “Well, at least the other parents will think we’re irresponsible.”
“I’ve got this,” Chan said, and I shivered as he toed the gas and grazed just going over too fast.
“At the risk of getting a ticket-”
“Relax, sweetie,” Chan interrupted, reaching over to take my hand. “I’ll handle everything.”
“Uh-huh,” I murmured, glancing up into the rearview mirror to see Leah and Rose engaged in their learning tablets. Even if they were a few minutes late, my kids would still be the smartest. I had made sure of that, spending countless hours with them reading as many books as I could buy, digging out paper and pencils to practice their names and alphabet letters, and reading tons of online articles about the best methods to ensure your child’s early learning set them up for the most success.
Right? So what if we were a little late.
“Mommy? Why can’t you both stay with us at school?” Rose suddenly inquired from the backseat.
I sighed, turning around to face her. “Mommy and Daddy both have to go to work, okay? We’ve already had our turn at school.”
“Our turn?” Chan chuckled, and I pivoted in my seat to glare at him.
“That’s the kind of language we should be using with them!”
“Did you read that from an online expert?”
“As a matter of fact, I did!” I huffed, and I caught his smile, letting me know that he was just messing around.
“I just want them to do well,” I whispered, and his expression instantly softened at the sound of my tone.
“You’ve done so well, sweetie,” Chan reassured me, squeezing my hand even tighter as he turned into the school’s parking lot, finding an empty spot near the back.
Immediately, I was at the back door, reaching inside to help Rose out of her seat, spinning her around to help her with her brand new bookbag. “There,” I said, once her attention was on me again. “You’re ready.”
“I don’t know...” Rose trailed off, and her eyes held all the uncertainty of a five-year-old who was used to staying at home with her parents and uncle. Not the unfamiliar presences of her peers.
“Hey,” I said, kneeling down to meet her gaze straight-on. “I know it seems scary, but I promise that you’ll really love it. I was the same way too on my first day, but my mom gave me the same advice, and guess what? She was right. I ended up loving school, and if there’s a little piece of me in you, then I know that you’ll have so much fun that you’ll forget all about your mommy and daddy.”
Rose’s eyes grew bigger, shaking her head in a manner that was quite endearing. “I won’t ever forget you.”
“I know, sweetheart,” I said, pulling her close for a hug as Chan and Leah emerged from the other side.
“Everything okay?” Chan asked, looking between me and his daughter.
“Just fine,” I said, ruffling Rose’s hair before standing tall again. “Let’s go inside.”
The classroom was already full of students, and I was glad to see some parents lingering, which meant we weren’t as late as I had thought.
“Told ya,” Chan snickered, and I gave him a playful glare before turning my attention to the approaching teacher: an older gentleman with a head of pepper and salt colored hair and kind eyes.
“Hello,” he said, addressing me first. “I’m Mr. Park.”
“Hi,” I said, accepting his handshake. “These are my daughters: Leah and Rose Bang.”
“Ah!” Mr. Park remarked, glancing down. “I’m excited for our twin students! Please, have a seat wherever you’d like.”
“Go on,” I encouraged them when I caught their matching looks of insecurity. “You have each other,” I added, reaching down to wrap their fingers together, giving them one last smile before Leah bravely led her sister further into the room, selecting an empty table near the back.
“Well, it’s so nice to meet you,” Mr. Park said, and I noticed that he had grown a little too close, gaze lingering for far too long.
“Yes,” I agreed, “And this is my-”
“I’m Chan,” my husband interrupted, inserting himself between me and Mr. Park with a brusque movement. “The father.”
I rolled my eyes at his tone, watching as Mr. Park hesitated before nodding and shaking Chan’s outstretched hand. “Nice to meet you.”
I smirked, waiting until Mr. Park had moved on before leaning in to Chan. “What was that, dear?”
Chan scoffed, searching the room for a moment. “He was flirting with you, sweetie. What did you expect me to do?”
“Well, it could be from our morning romp, but it kinda turned me on.”
Chan raised a suggestive brow at my comment, but I gave him a cheeky smile in response before walking in the direction of Leah and Rose’s table. “Look at you two,” I remarked. “I think you made a good choice.”
“I like seeing outside,” Leah said, and I nodded and tucked away a wayward strand of hair.
“You’ll both stay together, right?”
I received synchronous nods in response, and there was a lot of relief on my end knowing that my girls would be just fine.
“We’ll be here to pick you up at 2:00,” Chan said, pointing to the analog clock above the door. “Okay?”
Two more nods. “Remember to have fun. You’re gonna learn so much, and maybe you’ll even be smarter than daddy.”
I managed to elicit two laughs in response to that, and Chan chuckled as he wrapped an arm around my waist. “Be good, alright?”
“Yes, daddy,” Leah replied diligently while Rose nodded her head, attention drifting to a book sitting at the edge of the table.
I smiled knowing that she was showing interest, and then I realized that there was a deeper part of me that was having just as much trouble leaving the girls as they were having with leaving me and Chan. But the other parents were starting to leave the room, and with one more exchange of our goodbyes, Chan and I were walking away from our girls, keeping our own hands locked together as the door closed behind us.
“Woah,” I sighed once we were outside in the hallway. “That was harder than I expected.”
“It’s a big step,” Chan said, and he wrapped an arm around my waist to pull me closer. “But they’ll be okay because they’re ours.”
“Oh,” I laughed. “Is that so?”
“Of course,” Chan said, giving me a perfectly serious look before a smile overtook his features, and any previous doubts were vanquished by the sincerity in that smile, and I knew that as long as I had Chan, then nothing would ever be too difficult to overcome.
#straykids#straykidsfanfic#skz fanfic#stray kids drabbles#skz drabbles#stray kids imagines#skz imagines#stray kids chan#stray kids chan fanfic#chan fluff#chan smut#bang chan smut#bang chan fanfic#chan fanfic#bang chan imagines#bang chan scenarios#bang chan drabbles#chan imagines#chan drabbles#chan scenarios#mostlycompetent
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Doing some writing today off and on between errands and work, and jumping around various Kings of the Sky installments, specifically Dick, Jason and Cass stuff, so probably gonna post snippets from a bunch of them as I go.
(Kings of the Sky is an AU that goes canon divergent from the point of Jason calling Dick for advice for dealing with Bruce after the Garzonas case and where things end up going dramatically different from that point on. Including Jason not dying, being part of his own lineup of Titans between Dick and Tim’s, Dick being adopted not long after the Church of Blood incident, Cass being the third Wayne kid to be taken in and adopted and with Tim and Duke being next and then Damian coming along later once they find out about him. This is basically my ‘the family’s alright’ AU with largely ‘Good Dad Bruce’ except for Dick and then Jason yelling some sense into him about the other, respectively, in the first two installments, just FYI).
Anyway, this bit is from a story called “In Their Shadows Grow Trees Of Good and Evil,” set about a year after Cass has been adopted, when she and Jason are both sixteen and Dick’s twenty-one. Also just FYI, because canon has never been specific about what ways Cass is neurodivergent due to the comic-book style ‘rewiring’ of her brain so that she could learn to speak later in life, I tend to go with her being dyslexic and having aphasia. She sticks exclusively to sign language and being a silent presence in her costumed personas, so that there’s no chance of people connecting the dots between Black Bat and Cassandra Wayne, as she mostly speaks verbally in her civilian persona and doesn’t hide her aphasia. The reason there’s not likely to be any obvious signs of aphasia in the snippets of her I post is because I wait until I complete something to choose words at random to replace with aphasia-born mixups, so its more realistic and I’m not gearing her dialogue towards deliberately placed moments. Just in case you were wondering.
In Their Shadows Grow Trees of Good and Evil
“Hey Todd,” sneered an exquisitely obnoxious voice. “Why’s your sister so fucking weird?”
Jason sighed the sigh of a soul a mere century into its eternity of damnation as he rose from the lunch table he’d been studying at and crammed the rest of his books into his backpack. Then he pasted a cheerfully bland smile on his face and turned around, geared for academia warfare (teenage prep school edition).
“Hey Craig,” he said brightly. “Why’d you come out of the womb so ugly your parents had to tie a piece of steak around your neck just to get the family dog to go near you? Mysteries abound.”
The advancing junior slowed a step, momentarily rocked by his truly impressive return volley. The grimace Craig’s already gargoyle-esque features twisted into made his face even more unpleasant to look at than usual, which was quite the feat. Jason would have applauded if just looking at it hadn’t already turned him to stone.
But the bargain basement basilisk kept on towards him rather than turn tail and skulk off to pop his emotional blisters, so Jason sighed a sequel to his first one. Looked like it was one of those days where Craig felt up to powering through. Guess someone had eaten their self-esteem Wheaties that morning. Joy.
“You think you’re pretty hot shit, don’t you, Todd?”
Jason shrugged. “I mean, to be honest I kinda have a one track mind, so right now I’m mostly just thinking about punching you in your mistake.”
“My what?”
“Your face,” Jason elaborated with exaggerated patience.
“Huh?”
“Oh my god, I’m saying your face is a mistake. See, its not as fun when I have to stop and explain it to you. Ugh, you ruin everything.”
He neatly sidestepped the older boy as R2-Dumbass stayed frozen, smoke coming off of his internal CPU while trying to catch up. For a second Jason thought he was home free, but then he remembered the universe fucking hated him so haha, sucks to suck. Also, a small crowd had gathered to witness the verbal jousting match, and nothing invigorated an asshole like Craig more than an audience of like-minded peers. So there was that too.
“Whatever. Laugh it up all you want, you little shit,” the junior rallied. “But just remember, mocking your betters will never change the fact that you were born street trash and you’ll be street trash until the day you die.”
Honestly? Not his best effort. Jason almost felt bad using any of his good material. Seemed like overkill at this point. But he did have a strict Scorched Earth policy to maintain, so.....
“Yeah but my dad could buy out and ruin your dad so that means I still win, right?”
He smirked as the barb landed and Craig’s face set into a sunset vista of strangled purple and furious red. Bam. Direct hit.
“Listen, you - “
“Oh for fuck’s sake, it was rhetorical,” Jason interrupted. “I don’t actually care what you think even a little bit. Nobody does. You don’t matter. Please go be irrelevant elsewhere, you’re fucking dismissed, you loser.”
“Speak for yourself, charity case.” Oh goodie, Craig’s backup singers had finally arrived. Now if only he could remember to care enough to learn their names in the first place. Seriously, who told the extras they could have lines? “All the jokes in the world can’t change who and what you are.”
Jason shrugged and continued nonchalantly up the hill to where his sister was standing with arms crossed, staring down at something on the other side.
“True genius is never appreciated in its own time,” he tossed back over his shoulder. “I’m sure I’ll be immortalized in song eventually.”
The mob of morons deigned to let him go without further incident. Though he suspected that had less to do with his scathing wit and more to do with him being headed towards Cass. She was immaculately presented as always, wearing the Gotham Academy uniform like she was born to it despite hating its uncomfortable stiffness every bit as much as he did. But that was just Cass for you.
For all that she still struggled at times to engage verbally or speak up in social settings, her mastery of body language remained without peer. She could chameleon-camouflage her way into matching poise and posture with anyone - a skill that had allowed her to walk into school on her very first day with her head held high as though she owned everything in her sight. Exuding so much Queen Bee Intimidation Factor even the other hive queens were afraid to approach her themselves. Sending forth their drones to try and woo her into an alliance, only to see her remain oh-so-casually above it all, a slightly contemptuous smile adorning her lips.
Basically, she scared the shit out of their classmates without them having anywhere close to a true understanding of why, and Jason was outrageously jealous. Rude. Unfair. Why did his siblings always get all the cool toys when all he had was his rakish charm, scintillating intellect and debonair.....nah, who was he kidding. He was fucking awesome.
“Sup, sis,” he said, cresting the hill to stand beside Cass. “Just FYI, I just took a popularity bullet for you, which means you owe me your dessert tonight. Its a family rule that’s totally a real thing and definitely not something I just made up right now because Alf is making chocolate soufflé.”
She made no acknowledgment and remained stock still, a Colossus at Rhodes peering down into the shifting shadows of the parking lot below.
He peered down as well, though with absolutely no idea what they were looking at. Solidarity, yo.
“So are we staring fixedly at anything in particular, or should I just pick my own spot and commit?”
His humor was totally wasted on her as always. Instead of laughing and telling him what a lovable goof he was, she just inclined her head in the direction of a blonde girl where she was standing next to the driver’s side door of a Mercedes-Benz, dictating final commandments to her peons before departing. Well, probably. Jason was just guessing, based on his own body language reads, and like, general disdain for literally everyone at this school that wasn’t related to him.
He made a face. An extra special one reserved just for this classmate in particular. “Ugh, Madison Dunleavy? She’s the worst.”
Cass raised a cool eyebrow. “I thought Craig Hendricks was the worst.”
“He is. They’re both the worst. Its a hotly contested position here at Gotham Academy.”
She rolled her eyes and nodded back down at the Queen of Air and Darkness. “So. You know her?”
“Nope,” Jason said. “Come to think of it, I’ve actually never seen her in my life. No idea who that is. Can’t help you, sorry. Shall we go home?”
The Eyebrow of Inquisition speared him with clear intent. Who the fuck needed words when you could pack the Encyclopedia Britannica into a single facial expression?
Jason sighed gustily.
“I had a slight altercation with her freshman year that led to her declaring her undying enmity for me until the end of time. The word nemesis may or may not have been thrown around once or twice. I can’t recall.”
The Eyebrow of Inquisition lowered nary an inch. Ugh, she wanted more? Why did everyone in his family hate privacy, with the obvious exclusion of himself when snooping through Cass and Dick’s rooms for blackmail material, which was actually intel-gathering and thus another matter entirely.
“Okay so basically what happened was my first week here I overheard her talking shit about me and not even twenty minutes later she was pretending to kiss my ass in homeroom, like probably because of Bruce, y’know? So I just busted out laughing and told her to fuck off and die and she has inexplicably loathed me ever since.”
Avoiding further Eyebrow Inquisition-ing, he made a show of peering around aimlessly. When the silence extended and it was clear Cass was absolutely not going to break first, Jason waved a hand in dismissal and took to peering oh so casually at his fingernails. "I suppose I was less tactful back in those days.”
He chanced a look up, finally, and saw his sister’s eyebrow had somehow managed to mighty morphin power ranger its way into a configuration evoking both judgment and disbelief, with the latter perhaps aimed at the idea he was significantly differing in the tact department these days either.
“I don’t love the implications your face is making right now,” he told her.
She ignored him, because of course she did.
“Does she know Dick?” She asked instead. Jason shrugged.
“I mean, maybe? She’s probably seen him around at one of those stupid galas we have to go to, and actually I think maybe she has an older brother who was either in Dick’s grade or like, one above or below it? I don’t know.”
Now both eyebrows were doing the dance of disbelief. Okay, so maybe that was poor situational awareness on his part, since it wasn’t like Gotham Academy was a big school with a ton of other kids and also he’d only been in the same class as Madison for like over two whole years, but whatever. There were extingent circumstances.
“Look, she’s a total snob who’s always looked down on me and in return I willfully ignore both her existence and that of everyone and everything even tangentially related to her. Its called equality, Cass.”
She pursed her lips and went back to the peering, because of course in the mind of Cass it made total sense that the Grand Inquisition didn’t need to be followed up by any explanation on her part, what the hell. Like was he supposed to have inferred it?
“What’s this all about anyway?”
“I heard her talking about Dick earlier,” she said without peeling her eyes away from her personal recon mission. “I don’t know what she said though, I just heard her say Grayson, and then I was busy looking at what her body was saying. I know it was about Dick because she shut down when she saw me. And I didn’t like the way she....looked....before that happened. The way she was talking. It was.....”
Jason frowned but held back any follow-up questions while he waited - with total patience because he wasn’t an absolute cad, thank you very much - for his sister to find the word she was hunting for. It was a major source of frustration for her, that whatever neural map her brain followed put body language and spoken language in totally different regions of her brain, separated by a fairly great divide. Meaning she usually had to make a conscious choice to focus on body language or conventional languages - whether verbal or sign. But it tended to be one or the other; she’d yet to master taking in and comprehending both forms of ‘language’ at the same time. And none of them had quite figured out how to convince her that she wasn’t actually missing anything when she chose to focus on one specific form of communication - that she was still observing far more than most people ever would.
“Proprietary,” Cass settled on at last. She nodded her satisfaction with her choice of word, and Jason waited a whole two point five seconds before sticking his whole foot in his mouth.
“Proprietary?” He asked with a scrunched nose as he weighed that for possible context and implications. “You sure?”
She glared. He winced. It was a whole thing.
“Yeah, I know, sorry, sorry, I heard it the second it was out of my mouth. We don’t actually have to experiment with the legitimacy of if looks could kill.”
Cass rolled her eyes, but eh. That could’ve gone worse.
Jason swiftly redirected attention anyway. Discretion is the better part of valor, after all.
“So. The Queen of Air and Darkness was talking about our big bro, and her mood was.....proprietary, huh?” He recapped while digesting the info like a boss. “Well. Definitely not loving that, I gotta say. Hold please.”
Pulling out his phone and pulling up his most recent texts, he began typing furiously.
“What are you doing?” Cass asked.
“Texting Tom,” he replied, because duh. Hah, now it was his chance to have the answers that should be patently obvious and thus make with the ‘are you kidding me’ when she asked obvious questions she should know the answer to! How do you like them apples, sis?
“Why are you texting your boyfriend right now?”
Jason rolled his eyes, because fair is fair, but never ceased texting for a moment. Time was of the essence here, probably. Well, maybe. Okay probably not. But it’d still been like half an hour since he and Tom had last texted and that’s a very fucking long time in teenage years.
“To be our getaway driver tonight, obviously.”
She stared at him. He didn’t look up, but he could feel it anyway. He was very intuitive like that.
“What?”
Jason heaved another sigh, one keyed to tones of ‘oh my god, do I really have to spell this out,” exasperation. He was just racking up the bonus points here. It was really too bad this wasn’t an actual competition he could actually win and this was all just pettiness taking place wholly in his own head. Lame.
“Well, clearly we now have to go snoop in Madison’s house aka lair to see if its actually a house or a full on lair. Because she’s either a creeper or like, legit evil, and its important to know which one before we proceed, because obviously we can only bust her for being a weird creeper about our brother as Jason and Cass, whereas if she’s legit evil, that’s gotta go down as Robin and Black Bat. I’ll handle the snooping, you’ll take look-out, but we still need a wheelman and that’s why I’m texting Tom. This is all very mission-oriented, okay. I’m a professional.”
“Right,” she affirmed, while sounding anything but convinced. “Why don’t we just tell Bruce?”
Without looking up or breaking stride, he said: “I’m going to give you til I finish typing this sentence to figure out what was wrong with what you just said. Remember that we are talking about hypothetical danger to our brother, and also Bruce’s idea of a proportionate response to any of his children being in even hypothetical danger. And also our brother’s idea of a proportionate response to Bruce’s idea of a proportionate response. Look, you’re still new so I’m gonna need you to just trust me on this one. Its gonna be a no on telling Bruce without further intel.”
Cass said nothing in response to that, which meant that she was conceding the point and recognized the wisdom of his words. Or maybe that she was just gonna go ahead and do what she wanted anyway and just wasn’t bothering to fight about it, but it was probably that first thing.
“Well you better not just make out with your boyfriend all night,” is what she said at last, and that got his attention reeeeeal quick like.
“Umm. Wow. Okay. So, first off, you’re not the boss of me and who I make out with and when, so jot that down. And second, now I’m definitely going to make out with my boyfriend extra hard, with the exception of when we are actually on our recon mission because as previously established, I am a professional. And also, again, you’re not the boss of me.”
Jason ignored her Eye Roll With Extra Emphasis, and instead just held up his phone to Text With Extra Emphasis, as he read along with what he was typing.
“By the way babe, we have to make out extra hard tonight,” he said, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth while he dragged out his dictation with the kind of focus that usually led to Bruce asking why he couldn’t apply as much intensity to training as he did to pettiness. “Cass has suddenly decided she can dictate terms to me and I need to shut that shit down ASAP, so thank you in advance for your assistance in this matter. Smoochies and other gay stuff to the best boyfriend ever.”
Jason frowned as a response pinged back seconds later.
TheCatsMeow: ....the things I put up with for the sake of your weird family dynamics.
TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Yeah, yeah. You’re a saint among were-panthers. Must you mock? Why can’t you just tell me I’m pretty instead?
TheCatsMeow: Sorry. Let me try again. OMG you’re so pretty Jase how did I get so lucky xoxo.
TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: No. Its too late. It feels forced and unbelievable now. You’ve ruined it forever.
TheCatsMeow: Got it. From now on I will only tell you that you’re repulsive and hideous.
TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: I’m breaking up with you.
TheCatsMeow: But after I help you with your mission tonight.
TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Obvsly. I’m a professional. Why do people keep forgetting this?
TheCatsMeow: And also the making out to spite your sister.
TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Yeah we should do that first too. I mean we already penciled it in.
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Having anything resembling a candid conversation with Ymir, that didn’t include snide remarks and petty jabs, was … a relatively foreign concept to Cyrica, in all the time she had known her during their days in the Corps. And that wasn’t necessarily for one-sided reasons, either.
Both of them had always been equally abrasive in their socializing, simply as a matter of course. Granted, Cyrica’s own reasons for doing so were a bit more complex … but the end result was the same–neither of the women was ever very well-liked among their peers. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Ymir had Historia throughout it all, despite her rough demeanor. A fact that never failed to dumbfound Cyrica, any which way she thought about it. Maybe Historia had merely sensed the ‘real’ Ymir sitting beneath that prickly exterior, which she herself was only just now catching a glimpse of.
She sighed softly, combing her nails through her hair thoughtfully as she weighed the other woman’s words. “Well, see … that’s the thing. I never even really knew Marcel. Hell, at the time I didn’t know any of them, apart from the fact they were titan shifters loyal to Marley. And back then, that made them all my enemies.”
There was a twinge of something resembling shame as Cyrica paused, adding with no small amount of hesitation, “Truth is … I was kinda glad when I saw you eat him, fucked up as that sounds. All it meant to me at the time was one less Marleyan spy to have to work against. But understanding the truth of all their situations now … well … it’s given me a different point of view.”
She lifted her gaze back up to Ymir with a half-hearted smile. “Even so? I still don’t fault you for what happened. You were basically an animal at that point, running purely on instinct. You’re being too hard on yourself.”
@eldian-siren
Hard to believe that just a short time before she was free. Swinging in the trees, or laughing with Historia.....poking jabs at the recruits who thought they were tough shit that could take on anything.
Compared to what she had seen in the past, it had been almost.....paradise.
But now her world had crashed and she was now back in the place that had sentenced her to die for no fault of her own. All because she was made to think she was a god.....a god among godless men.
“......You wanna know the truth? I lied. I told these guys I didn’t remember who I ate to....be able to be free again. But that wasn’t true. I see weird things when I close my eyes.
Like I’m seeing life through someone else’s eyes. I knew I recognized them somehow....”
She had sworn up and down that she’d only live for herself. Screw everyone, she deserved a life after everything she went through. Who cared if a nobody got eaten just so she could be free again?
There were a ton of faceless people eaten every day. One more wouldn’t count!
Except....this one did. She could see that now....even waking up after years in a nightmare she could feel pain and fear and terror.....terror that wasn’t hers. The memory of a terrified little blonde boy, being pushed away. Huge eyes wide as he watched someone be devoured alive....
Now when she saw the kid.....she saw Reiner. Reiner, everyone’s best friend. The guy she sensed something off about. Reiner....the guy who now lost everything, and returned home in disgrace.
“.......I remember seeing a blonde kid just.....staring at me. Like he couldn’t move. I remember teeth closing in around me as I just kept feeling guilt. I didn’t know why.....but I know now....”
Oddly enough....she almost felt a kinship to the holder of the armored Titan. They were both going back outcasts, betraying their real home for a place that would kill them. Her faster than him.....she knew her time was limited.
“ I guess saying I’m sorry won’t cut it. Especially after......what happened to his boyfriend.....”
#I Want to Live a Life That's Mine! (Ymir/ The Dancing Titan)#eldian-siren#attack on titan#aot#I vaguely set this in Marley or on the way there XD#I really don't want her to get munched though ;A;#Even though I love Porco's beared lion Jaw XD#*bearded
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Is it time to tear ANOTHER Dhar Mann video to shreds? YOU BET.
I've been sitting on this one for a bit because I wanted to make sure I talk about this tactfully. The subject of parents abandoning their disabled children is a very touchy one.
Parents abandoning their disabled children simply for being disabled is way too common. Like, I understand that not everyone has the resources to care for a disabled child (which is why you reach out for help, and why people like me, who work with disabled people, exist), but it doesn't mean you just walk out of their life. There are exceptions, like if you truly didn't want children or something like that, but just flat-out walking out of your kid's life BECAUSE they're disabled is fucked up.
I know someone personally whose biological mother abandoned her when she was born. Why? Because she's disabled. Physically, and mentally, to a point. I work with this woman on a daily basis. I don't really know WHY exactly her biological mother abandoned her, but I do know that her being disabled was part of it. It's sad. It doesn't affect her, thankfully. I'm happy that she's got her biological dad, her brother, and another maternal figure in her life, at least.
ANYWAYS. Before we get to the topic at hand, I need to put an obligatory trigger warning, like I do with EVERY Dhar Mann post:
This post will be talking about parents abandoning their disabled children simply for being disabled, treating disabilities like they're tragedies (in this case, we're talking about autism...again), divorce, and some SPICY ableist bullshit from an allistic (nonautistic) PIECE OF SHIT.
If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable in any way, you don't have to read this post. This isn't worth putting yourself in a bad state mentally. I would never ask for any of you to put yourselves in that position all for a post. Put your mental health and well-being first. Consume media that sparks joy for you.
As far as my response goes, it's definitely more calm than normal. Funny....since this video is about autism spectrum disorder again. (Third time's the charm, huh, Dhar Mann? NOT.)
LET'S FUCKING GET IT.
The video starts off with these two parents (Gwen and Allen) in a psychologist's office. The psychologist tells the parents that their son (Chance) is autistic, and she tries to explain what autism is to the parents, but Allen cuts her off. Why? Because he teaches at a prestigious university, so he AUTOMATICALLY knows what autism is from that fact alone.
Um, excuse me? Just because you're a teacher at a prestigious university, it doesn't mean you're an expert in everything. It doesn't make you an expert in ASD or anything like that. Unless you SPECIALIZE in that area. Even then, shut the fuck up. The people who know about being autistic are AUTISTIC PEOPLE THEMSELVES! SHOCKER.
Hey, Dhar Mann! QUIT WITH THE VIDEOS ABOUT AUTISTIC LITTLE WHITE BOYS AND YOUNG WHITE AUTISTIC CISHET MEN! I'M SICK AND TIRED OF IT. It's annoying, ignorant, and it feels like you're doing this on purpose at this point to piss people off. If you're so uninformed about autism in women and girls, FUCKING ASK AUTISTIC WOMEN AND GIRLS! DO BETTER RESEARCH THAT DOESN'T INVOLVE AUTISM SPEAKS. The Autism Self Advocacy Network (ASAN) and the Autistic Women and Nonbinary People Network (AWN) are great organizations to go to for any kind of research on ASD in women and girls. STOP GOING OFF OF THE BRAINS OF AUTISTIC WHITE BOYS AND AUTISTIC WHITE MEN.
I don't feel I need to go too deep into the fact that autistic women, autistic girls, autistic nonbinary people, autistic BIPOC, autistic AAPI, autistic LGBT people, autistic teenagers, and autistic adults exist. Y'all already know.
Gwen asks the psychologist if that means Chance isn't healthy. (I understand not knowing about autism, but don't treat it like it's a terminal illness. Please.) The psychologist tells her that Chance is fine, but he just learns differently and might need more support compared to his peers.
Yeah, autism can affect how you learn about certain things (limited and repetitive patterns), but there are other disabilities that can affect learning as well. Like how dyslexia can affect your ability to read, dyspraxia can affect your ability to do math, and Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) can affect your ability to focus or on impulse control. Autism affects how your brain is developed, it affects you socially, behaviorally, and how you communicate.
Allen is upset, says that he can't have a son "with a learning disability" (ASD is a neurological disability, not necessarily a learning disability), and treats Chance like he's stupid for being autistic. Gwen tells her husband that autism doesn't make you any less intelligent, WHICH IS SO FUCKING TRUE. ABSOLUTE FACTS. I was totally with her until she began that little monologue with "Just because a person HAS autism". SAY "JUST BECAUSE A PERSON'S AUTISTIC" INSTEAD! IT'S NOT HARD. PERSON FIRST LANGUAGE ISN'T WHAT EVERY DISABLED PERSON PREFERS. Allen says that "they could have another kid" and "put Chance up for adoption". Gwen obviously wasn't down with that. Allen gives his wife an ultimatum that it's either HIM or their son Chance. Gwen says that she can't choose between the two, but she will stand by her autistic son. Allen gets up and leaves the office, saying he wants a divorce.
Years pass by, Gwen is single and taking care of her autistic son Chance, and Allen has a new life with a ✨perfect son✨ (Samuel). He never mentions the son HE abandoned (Chance). He's completely forgotten about Gwen and Chance. (YOU OWE SO MUCH CHILD SUPPORT, ALLEN.)
Hey, Allen, how much do you wanna bet that your ✨perfect son✨ Samuel is autistic too?
There's the SATs, they're announcing a winner, and guess who it is? IT'S OBVIOUSLY CHANCE, OF COURSE. He's got the highest score in the country, with Samuel in second place. Allen is PISSED.
Chance gives a speech about how his mom really helped him, he struggled with autism, how Allen LITERALLY ABANDONED HIM, and THE CROWD GOES FUCKING WILD. Samuel, instead of being a sore loser, APPLAUDS FOR CHANCE. Stay humble, Sam.
My thoughts on the video? If you cannot tell by my tone throughout this post, IT WAS DOG SHIT. This video was insensitive to the true reality of parents abandoning their disabled children just because they're disabled. What do I expect from Dhar Mann at this point?
Here's my response to his video below. Don't worry, I will fully type out my response soon for anyone who cannot read the screenshots easily. It's a lot easier for me to do that on the desktop site than it is for me to do it on my phone.
For anyone who can’t read my response, I’m typing it out for you. Like I said, it’s easier for me to type it out on the desktop site than it is for me to type it out on my phone. It’s a real royal pain in the ass. But because I’m trying to make my posts easier to read for people, I’m doing this anyway. /lighthearted
First, second, and third screenshots (broken up into paragraphs):
Hey, listen, I appreciate the message you’re trying to go for, but can you please stop putting autistic people into a box? Can you stop treating being autistic like it’s a tragedy? Not every single autistic person is a little white boy in elementary school who’s considered “wild and unruly” or “super quiet and makes no friends”, nor are they a young white cishet man who’s a super genius or is how Chris Chan was before she came out as trans. (For anyone who doesn’t know about Chris Chan, there are many documentaries people have made on YouTube, and I highly recommend Geno Samuel’s docuseries, if you’re really interested in learning about Chris Chan.)
Autistic women, girls, nonbinary people, BIPOC, APPI, LGBT people, teenagers, and adults all exist too.
It’s very apparent now that you get your resources from Autism $peaks, a hate group that spends the vast majority of their money on funding eugenics instead of helping autistic people like they claim, claims that only little white boys and young white cishet men are autistic and ignores all other autistic people who don’t fit that description, have no autistic people on their leader board or on any board for that matter, have members who have actually fantasized about k1lling their autistic children, treat autism like it’s a tragedy or a disease someone can catch (completely false), act like autism should be cured (there is no cure, and ABA therapy is a total shit show in itself), and treats autistic people like they’re broken and need to be fixed. Also, not every autistic person is a Super Genius(tm). That’s so demeaning to autistic people who aren’t seen as intelligent in any way. I’m autistic and seen as smart; however, there are subjects I’m stronger in than others.
If you can’t handle the possibility of having autistic children, or just disabled children in general, DON’T HAVE CHILDREN. If you can’t handle working with or alongside disabled people, including autistic people, maybe find a different profession. Even if you do that, you’ll never get away from disabled people. Disabled people aren’t a disease. We’re human beings just like neurotypical and able-bodied people.
Fourth and fifth screenshots (broken up into paragraphs):
I would highly suggest getting resources from reputable organizations for ASD, such as the Autism Self Advocacy Network (ASAN) and the Autistic Women and Nonbinary People Network (AWN). Talk to any autistic person who isn’t a little white boy or a young white cishet man.
Instead of using the puzzle piece, which is a symbol that many autistic people, myself included, are offended by (because of Autism $peaks and other organizations before them using it, plus it symbolizes that only autistic children exist and that we’re “missing a piece” like we’re broken), use the rainbow infinity sign (for all neurodivergent people) or the red and gold infinity sign (just for autistic people). Instead of “lighting it up blue”, light it up red or gold. Do both if you want.
I’m actually really sick and tired of seeing just autistic little white boys and young autistic white cishet men being represented in the media, and y’all manage to fuck that up too.
Before anyone mentions Sia’s movie “Music”, that’s also very poor representation of autistic girls. Besides, the actress who played the autistic girl isn’t even autistic. She MOCKED autistic people. I know she’s a kid, but that’s still super fucked up. I hope she’s able to turn that around.
If anyone would like to discuss this topic with me or ask any questions, feel free to. I’ll answer as best as I can. Thank you and have a good night.
Before I get attacked for mentioning Chris Chan in my response, I bring up Chris Chan because allistic people think that every autistic person is like her (especially before she came out as trans). That person is part of why I wasn't open about being autistic or talking about my diagnosis until this year. I didn't want to be grouped up with Chris Chan because I do have very similar interests to her, I've been seen as cringey for having said interests, and just the way Chris treated autistic people who were formerly diagnosed with A$p3rg3r$ $yndr0m3 (like I was) really made me feel even more alienated.
Also, S1a supports A$ (Autism $p3aks). She's not a very good person to support. Some of her music is good, but her as a person....no. Her movie "Music" was gross, from what I've read about it and seen pictures of.
If you've read this far, thank you so much!
#mello speaks#dhar mann#dhar mann talk#dhar mann will live to regret his decision to make these fucked up cringe videos#dhar mann will live to regret his decision uwu#dhar mann is a piece of human garbage#please stop supporting dhar mann#autism isn't a tragedy#we need better representation for autistic people who aren't little white boys or young white cishet men#dhar mann is a cringe ass nae nae baby#tw abandonment#tw ableism#cw sia mention#cw chris chan mention#tw dhar mann
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Month
A fake dating au but make it marriage. Two best friends scroll on social media and notice a trend where newlyweds send invites to famous celebrities to see what will happen? An appearance? A gift? Who knows. For the two best friends, as a joke, set up a fake wedding and request the most expensive gifts with the option of money. Sending invites to celebrities ranging from Kim Kardashian to even the Queen, they are surprised and shocked to realize that not only were gifts being delivered nearing the “big day” but a request to be part of the celebration causes the two friends to create a fake marriage in the smallest amount of time they have.
University AU! Aged-up Haikyuu Characters!
Fashion Designer/Psychologist Oikawa
Humanities Y/N
Rain splattered on the window, causing little droplets here and there to roll down with no hesitation. The quiet hums of lo-fi music made its way around the little bedroom, with vigorous typing accompanying it.
Backspace.
Enter.
Click and delete.
Brain throbbing, a sigh escaping from the lips.
It was no use, the longer the computer was stared at, the more your brain felt like mush.
“Damn him and using me to do his research analysis.”
Speak of the devil.
“Y/n!”
You stood up, turning around and crossing your arms with a glare. There he stood, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe with a sly smirk on his face.
Tooru Oikawa.
“How’s the report going? I hope to see it done by tomorrow?”
“Fuck you,” you strided over and pushed his arms, causing him to slightly lose balance. “Just tell me how you managed not getting kicked out yet. I swear you casted a spell on your professors or something. It's like you don’t do anything.”
He feigned hurt. “I do!” He whined. “Just not class related.” He pushed past you and flung yourself onto the bed, burying his face into your freshly washed sheets. “I’m designing a new clothing line inspired by the different volleyball team colours.”
“Is this your way at relieving the pain from not making it to nationals?” you snickered, remembering how pissed off he was after Ushijima told him he should have gone to Shiratorizawa.
“I-you little shit. This is why I never tell you things.”
“Shut up shittykawa you literally are making me do your research proposal. I know nothing about psychology!”
“I’m helping you learn a new subject! It’s time to look into your own brain and see what’s wrong with you!”
…
Three.
Two.
One.
“OIKAWA YOU LITTLE SHIT!” you flung yourself on top of him, garnering an oomph! sound. You smacked his back repeatedly.
He let it have your way, already coming up with a counterattack.
With stinging hands and shallow breaths after saying nothing but curses, you stopped and climbed off of him. Immediately, he’s on top of you. Pinning your wrists and getting dangerously closer to your neck. You couldn’t lie, he was attractive, but knowing him and his two-faced personality, you’d rather stay friends.
But did you really want to?
A part of him knew you wanted him, but was that a risk you were willing to take?
Deep breaths.
A low chuckle. “You love me y/n. I know you do, and I also know you’d do anything for me.” He smirked and pressed a kiss oh so close to your lips, getting up and dusting off his black shirt.
“I’m leaving! Remember, the paper has to be done by tomorrow!”
The door closed and for a moment you looked at your ceiling.
Eyes wide.
Taking a pillow, you screamed into it.
“SHITTYKAWA!”
“Here you hoe, now for once in your life do your own work.”
You stomped into one of the many University studios, aiming the folder at Oikawa’s head much to his dismay.
“Thank you love you!”
You glared at him and waved a hand. “You definitely owe me like five bowls of ramen after what you put me through. I can’t believe you made me read so much on children’s brains and development.”
“I mean they said to choose something I liked, so children and volleyball worked together. Plus, if I actually had to conduct the research, my nephew’s volleyball club would have been perfect.” He finally turned around after pinning the teal fabric to the mannequin, striding towards you and ruffling your hair.
You mumbled incoherent curses as Oikawa picked up his sketchbook, writing down a quick note before closing it.
“Let’s go, I’m starving.”
The fragrant air of spices and creamy broth filled the little shop, making you drool. Grateful that Oikawa was rich, you took the opportunity to order almost everything on the menu.
“Y/n isn’t that-” you growled at him and he smirked.
“Feisty, you know I love that.” he winked and you gagged.
While waiting for the food, both of you were scrolling on Instagram. Having most of the same friends, it was no surprise that your timelines almost looked identical. Rolling his eyes, Oikawa saw a group photo of most of the volleyball players Hinata was pictured with, wanting nothing more than to squish the little one.
But then something caught your eyes.
You looked up at Oikawa who seemingly had the same expression, eyes wide, yet confused.
The dead groupchat came back to life with a link sent by Matsukawa, something about a bet.
matthewkawa
Look at this lol
Sent a link
[Youtube storytime: The Time I Invited Drake to My Wedding (Spoiler Alert: He Came!)]
hannamaki
Wait why would someone invite a celebrity? Aren’t they hard to ask?
nishinoyya
Wait that’s cool! Asahi-san can we invite Jason Derulo to our wedding?
acai
Wait...what? What wedding?
y/n
Waittt i’ve seen that video
Apparently as a joke the person sent lots of invites to different celebrities. Most of them gave gifts or money but I guess Drake went
iwachew
LOOL IMAGINE Y/N AND CRAPPYKAWA DOING THAT
yoyoinata
I can see that woah!
milkyama
Psh! Flattykawa and y/n. I can’t see it. y/n deserves better lol
fabkawa
OI TAKE THAT BACK STUPID
y/n
Oi don’t talk back to my child like that shittykawa
fabkawa
Shut up y/n and eat your ramen
You glared at him before saying thank you to the waiter. Both minds now occupied with the creamy ramen and soft boiled egg.
Flipping a page, you smiled. There it was, the fake couple who both fell for each other, breaking so many rules. But who couldn’t resist?
Oikawa scrolled on the computer, typing and clicking. He swiveled around in his seat and went over to you, peering over your shoulder.
You smacked his arm. “Personal space excuse me!” He put his arm up in defence, smirking.
“Remember the post Matsukawa sent?
“Yeah. So what?”
“I made the wedding on May 14th and invited some celebrities. Who did you want to send an invite to?”
You dropped the book. “Say what?”
Oikawa dragged you from his bed and sat you down on his uncomfy chair. Indeed, the computer screen showed a cheesy website where people rsvp to weddings. Already half of the groupchat accepted and you know this had to be a joke.
“Oikawa are you dumb? Who are you marrying? Wait no, who would want to marry you?” you looked at him and he pouted.
“Iwa-chan said no, Mad Dog scares me, Ushijima is definitely a no, so you’re left.”
“Who said I would do it?”
“I invited Stray Kids.”
Are you kidding me?
“This isn’t real, we’re not gonna really get married right? I mean if we were technically speaking, the wedding is less than a month away and we don’t have money, a reception place or any other sappy wedding shit.” You looked at the list and sure enough, Stray Kids was there.
“No y/n nothing is going to happen trust me. Plus, who doesn’t like free gifts? I tried to ask for expensive gifts and money because someone’s wardrobe and apartment looks ugly as hell.”
“You better not be talking about me bitch. I’m gonna set that sketchbook on fire.”
Oikawa chuckled. “Add some more people on the list, I wanna see how far this can get.”
“I never said I agreed to it,” you mumbled but nonetheless added in a few of your favourite celebrities, including the queen.
After all, if this worked, free money. What’s the harm in that?”
A lot went wrong after that.
It was three am a week after the planning and your phone wouldn’t stop ringing. Grumbling, you answered the call without looking at the number…..which was a stupid mistake.
“Y/N! HOW DO I CANCEL THE WEDDING?!”
“Relax Papi you said nothing would happen? Free money right?” you yawned not even realizing what you said.
Oikawa sputtered on the other line, shaking his head and ignoring how you called him Papi for some reason. “Yeah but uh...we have a little problem.”
“Hm…”
“Jason Derulo accepted the invite ...and he can’t wait to see the ceremony.”
From that moment, you were fully awake. “WHAT?!!”
“What do you mean you can’t cancel the wedding?” you rubbed at your temples, losing more brain cells by the minute.
"Okay so apparently my last name is common around celebrities, seeing as my father owns different restaurants. So it’s not a surprise to them that they wouldn’t attend the wedding.’
“Fuck.” you breathed out. How did the both of you not realize this?
“Okay so um..what now?”
Oikawa ruffled his air. “We go through with it.”
"Fuck no.”
“What why?”
You’re the one who thought of this crazy idea! It’s all your fault!”
“But you’re the one who put Jason Derulo in there!”’
You smacked your forehead. “It was a joke and for free money! Look what you got us into.”
Yells back and forth, each blaming the other. It was like the night wasn’t going to end soon. Tired from the arguing, you smacked Oikawa’s chest. “Stupid,” you mumbled. “I don’t want to do this!”
Oikawa scratched the back of his neck. “But what if I want to?” You looked up at him confused. “You know, like how Hinata and Tobio fake dated but then became boyfriends.”
“Oikawa, that’s different. That’s dating, this is marriage. It’s adult stuff, I can barely cook!”
“I’ll cook for you.”
You walked away from him, going towards his balcony. The view was beautiful, seeing various stars and the lights shining from Tokyo. “This is too much for me to handle. You're a pain, you know that?”
He wrapped his arms around you and instinctively you snuggled closer to his chest, facing the view so he wouldn’t see your red cheeks.
"Remember when we were children? And we had a whole promise that we would be with each other forever?” you laughed. The classic child marriage pact. It was as if almost all friendships started with that promise. A promise to love and stay with each other no matter what.
“That’s child play.”
He started to rub circles with his thumbs on your arms, you feeling relaxed. “One month. Give me one month after the wedding. We’ll go on a honeymoon to London, I'll teach you how to cook, you can live with me, we can adopt a puppy.” Oikawa gulped and looked at you. “And if you don’t like it, we can pretend none of this happened. In fact i’ll stop bothering you with my assignments and my presence.”
One month. That sounded like a challenge. A challenge that Oikawa was willing to risk everything for. A month to make you fall for him.
“...so we’re splitting the gifts and money equally then, right?”
A/N: I’m back! This has been in my drafts for months. At first it was supposed to be Yuto from Pentagon but after getting into Haikyuu I was like fuck it and changed it to Oikawa. Also because yes LMAO. I hope you all liked it and let me know your comments! Part two will be in the works if people want it, for now its a oneshot aha.
Much love!
tags: @babyworld , @bakuhoes-dumbass
#oikawa#tooru oikawa#fake dating au#university au#haikyuu timeskip au#he be rich rich#like yes#oneshot#part two a maybe#haikyuu fic#haikyu x reader#oikawa x reader#iwaizumi#matsukawa#hanamaki#kageyama#hinata#uhhhh yee#asahi#nishinoya
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Close to Me: How the Hollow Knight's Fighting Style Reflects Their Trauma (and the Radiance's as well)
So I've been trying to actually beat the Radiance, which means I've been fighting the Hollow Knight. A lot, as a matter of fact, since I'm beans at this game sometimes. I've also been thinking about @lost-kinn's meta about how fighting styles are how Vessels, especially the Little Knight, communicate.
In trying to apply this to the Hollow Knight, I've been coming to some very interesting conclusions, especially taken in context of...Everything Else in the lore, and Everything Else implicated in this by the psychology of it.
There's a lot to cover here, and it tracks through a LOT of different places, including trauma psychology, the relationship between chronic stress and lifespan health, and shape symbolism. Two warnings first:
One: this essay is gonna get heavy. It includes fine-grained discussion of the Hollow Knight's trauma, including discussions of the real-life machanics of psychological abuse, as well as the Extremely Concerning Implications of them harming themself during their boss fight. please read with caution and when you're in a safe emotional place to do so.
Two: This post is not a place for justifying the Pale King. If you read this essay in its entirety and still want to do that, please make your own post; my relationship to the Hollow Knight themself is deeply rooted in my own experiences, so in the context of this discussion I can't promise I won't take it personally.
With that out of the way, let's talk trauma and fighting styles:
We know that the Hollow Knight is trained to be a paragon of fighting skill, through the Pure Vessel fight, and this gives us a fantastic way to compare what they were like before they were made Government Assigned Radiance Jail, and after. Or, in other words, we're given the perfect opportunity to see what the Radiance is doing (i.e. context effects), and what Hollow is (i.e. what we can conclude is reliably consistent as a part of them). Listed here, for reference:
Hollow's attacks:
Three slashes
A dash slash
A Radiant Shade Soul, which launches a volley of Infection blobs in arcs
A Radiant Desolate Dive, which produces pillars of entwined Void and Light at random intervals
The Infection bursting out of them in random arcs, covering a significant amount of the aerial space of the arena
The Radiance ragdolling their body around trying to hit the Knight
Contact damage from them stabbing themself and falling over atop you
The Pure Vessel's attacks:
Three slashes
A dash slash
A Pure Shade Soul, which launches a volley of nails in straight lines
A Pure Desolate Dive, which produces nails at specific intervals
A Pure Focus, which causes circular explosions across most of the aerial space in the arena
Lashing out with a Void Arm (word choice intentional)
I've highlighted attacks from each battle that are different, since those are our points of interest here. In addition, both the Pure Vessel and Hollow are exceedingly fond of teleport-spamming in a way that is usually reserved for a specific group of bosses.
Another very important distinction between these two fights: the Pure Vessel doesn't scream. Well, they certainly try to, but no sound comes out. No voice to cry suffering, after all. All of these points have a lot to go into, so let's address them one at a time.
All That Remains: Theoretical Background On The Significance Of Constants
Making comparisons across time is important specifically because humans (and human-like bugs) change. Most personality traits aren't set in stone--they exist as an interaction of someone's internal tendencies, their experiences, and their environment. Speaking of those last two points, not all experiences and environments are created equally. Adverse childhood experiences (ACEs for short) are known to have lifelong implications for a child's health, both physically and mentally. These are events that are so stressful or stressful for so long that they exceed a child's ability to cope and become toxic stress (yes, that's the term in the literature, because it actively damages your organs). They compound, as well--the stress of one ACE makes it harder for a child to cope with another, especially if they overlap.
Some examples of ACEs? Being exposed to physical danger or the threat of physical danger, deprivation of normal social relationships with peers of a similar age, being forcibly seperated from family members, witnessing a loved one being hurt or killed, chronic illness in oneself or a family member, neglect of a child's emotional needs....
Poor fucking Holly. It's a miracle they didn't disintegrate under the pressure. The only other option is that they bent and adapted under that much stress--in other words, most of their personality has been forcibly reshaped by what they've gone through. Anyone who has up-close experience with parentification or complex child abuse already knows: this was by design. I'm not saying the intent was to traumatize the Pure Vessel past several points of no return, but the intent definitely was to reshape their personality for the purpose of being The Vessel. We only see them (the Pure Vessel) in battle after this process is mostly or entirely complete, but we do see them a few times beforehand. I'd like to draw attention to the Path of Pain cutscene right now.
I've seen people talking about the look the Vessel and the King share as a sign that TPK really does love his child. That might be true, but it's definitely not relevant when it comes to how abuse works. This is, in fact, exactly how the cycle of abuse uses affection as a tool. Long periods of abuse or neglect, smoothed over by small periods of affection that placate the survivor? That's textbook love bombing, the kind that forms stubborn trauma bonds and facilitates unhealthy dependency. Forgive me for not giving the Higher Being of knowledge and prescience the benefit of the doubt on that one. (/s)
Team Cherry knows about the importance of parallels and dissonance. There's a reason the music in the second phase of the Hollow Knight fight plays in the Path of Pain. There's a reason it cuts out the moment the battle with the Kingsmoulds is over, instead of at the room transition. There's a reason it doesn't cut out in the Black Egg. Actually, there's two potential reasons, which could also coexist: either little Hollow trusts the Pale King to keep them safe, even after the borderline torture that they were just subjected to, or big Hollow is so hypervigilant that they're in full functioning-through-trauma mode even while they're at death's door.
If you don't see how much the Pale King scarred his child at this point, I'm not sure we were playing the same game.
Walking the Straight Line: How the Pale King's Teachings Show In the Pure Vessel
The Pale King loves order and control. Everything about the White Palace and every decision we see him make implies this. Everything is spotless white walls and well-maintained gardens; the only signs of disorder are hidden away, either in his workshop or in The Pit™. This also reflects in the Pure Vessel's title--pure as in holy, but also pure as in without flaw. Considering the Nailsmith's emotional state after completing the Pure Nail, TPK's fate with his Perfect Controlled Kingdom, and the Godmaster ending as a whole, attaining perfection is not a good thing in any sense.
We know the Hollow Knight isn't perfect--that's the whole catalyst for the plot. But considering their upbringing and their fighting style as the Pure Vessel, their imperfections absolutely kill them emotionally. I'll spare the lecture on how perfectionism affects neurodivergent kids even more severely than neurotypical kids, if only to keep this post to a reasonable length (look up "twice-exceptional children" if you'd like to know the theory I'm glossing over in more depth). But, in essence, the deck is doubly stacked against them--they have a higher goal to reach, and far more obsctacles in their path, including their own emotional scars.
I've already discussed how Hollow isn't meant for this kind of stress in a physical sense in other posts. They're not prepared for it emotionally, either--the Pale King wants perfection, and they can't even stand up straight (every spoonie in the audience already knows how exhausting people's obsession with Standing Up Straight is). There's another page on their stack of emotional baggage, even BEFORE you consider that the Pure Vessel knows their perfection is what bought them a ticket out of the Abyss.
Bringing Teleportation To A Sword Fight: Where The Pure Vessel Reveals Their Fears
How else are they going to cope with that need for perfection, that need to prove themselves worthy of the reason their life was spared, by being flawless in any way they can? Being a mechanical, flawless fighter puts so much pressure on them, both literally (repetitive strain injuries fucking HURT) and figuratively--if you're predictable, the only sure way to win is to mop the floor with your opponents before they figure you out. Hell, that's the way most people play their first run of Hollow Knight, by throwing themselves at the bosses over and over until they figure out the patterns. That strategy is inherently going to fail against an opponent that's, say, an immortal higher being.
There's no way that the Vessel didn't figure this out, and yet none of their TPV specific attacks are positioned randomly--the nails are always evenly spaced, and the Focus explosions are always in a specific height region of the screen. That's clinging to survival strategies even when they become maladaptive in its purest form.
Another dip into psychological theory: let's talk about disorganized attachment. Attachment styles describe how someone's relationships to their main caregiver(s) influence their understanding on relationships in general. Disorganized attachment is a result of an upbringing of inherently unstable parent-child relationships, where there's no way of a child predicting whether an adult is going to be delighted to see them, ambivalent, upset, or otherwise. If my parent woke up some days saying "all right my child, time for the Infinite Buzzsaws Obstacle Course," I'd be the same way. In adulthood this manifests as an inability to form a stable sense of self-concept as well as concepts of others. Mission accomplished, TPK, there's no will to break if you broke it yourself.
This is where the fighting styles as communication comes in--Hollow needs to keep Ghost at a distance to fight, but also wants to be closer to their sibling (the only being who has a chance of understanding what they've been through), BUT also has a trauma-rooted fear of attaching to people, as their experiences with attachment are inherently unpredictable and dangerous. Hence, both the teleportation that doesn't seem to match their fighting style any more reliably than "aim at the thing attacking you" and the second attack unique to the Pure Vessel--they're quite literally lashing out in pain to push people away. There's a reason that attack is so reminiscent of the Thorns of Agony.
Of note is that Holly does seem to teleport like the bugs of the Soul Sanctum do (favoring the edges of a screen, rather than going wherever like Dream Warriors do), which makes sense--they're the most obvious answer to the question "how did they learn how to teleport, anyways?" However, Sanctum bugs have abilities designed to capitalize on this, like homing spells and slashes from above. I can only assume this means that someone saw Holly's proficiency with the nail and assumed it translated to other forms of combat, and didn't feel the need to give them at least a bit of a primer on how to make the best use of it. There's another tally for the Hollow Knight as an autism metaphor.
Trauma Bonds: How the Radiance Speaks Through Hollow
Now, we're back to the Black Egg, and two people stuck in the same sinking ship. The thing that makes this hurt so badly is that Holly and the Radiance are at complete cross purposes here, and yet they both want the same thing:
They both want out, no matter the cost. For the Radiance, this means forsaking the pacifistic nature of the moths and nuking Ghost personally.
For Hollow, this means forsaking the way they were raised and everything that was bludgeoned into their personality: the only way out is to fail, give up control, and trust that Ghost will do what needs to be done.
Imagine how much pain they're in to actually go for it. Going against a literal lifetime of conditioning is something that takes the average person years to even consider, let alone go through with. It's a form of learned helplessness--if you try to break free and fall, again and again, it actively discourages further attempts. Breaking through learned helplessness is an interesting process, because it generally involves re-establishing a sense of control by recalling previous events where the person was able to change their situation.
Which, as far as we know of, are nothing but traumatic memories for Hollow. It's very unlikely that they'd break through it on their own, but we know they have by the time we see the second phase of their fight. This is them at their most desperate: the same music as the Path of Pain, the way they let, or can't stop, the Radiance throw their body around, the way they actively try to let the Radiance out by stabbing themself.
You'd think that giving up and learned helplessness are inherently compatible, but when giving up both goes against your core personality, and involves your active participation, they're in direct opposition. So either Holly was able to process all their trauma by themself (which I doubt, judging by how much effort the player has to go through to even see Ghost's and Hollow's traumatic memories), or someone gave them a nudge or three in that direction.
Considering that there's been someone living in Holly's head who has a vested interest in them Not Doing Their Duty, I think we know who. And the thing is, I think we watch Hollow have this breakthrough during their battle. Imagine for the first time in decades, at least, you can move. You're in pain from being in the same position, probably hallucinating from sensory deprivation, with an infection sucking at what strength your body has left. And there's this little creature who looks ready to fight you, who seems to have let you go for that exact purpose.
And you look down, and both you and the Radiance recognize them from a place rooted deeper than consciousness, in the murky depths of trauma. You see the other Vessel who just as easily could have been you, and who looks so much stronger for not being you, for being an imperfect, willful creature. And the Radiance sees history threatening to repeat itself, another one of the Wyrm's cursed children seeking to lock her away once more.
What else do you do when you're triggered? You scream, and you go on instinct, and you retreat into your head. Those first blows, with the epic music? That's the Vessel the Pale King forged, the fighting machine that will endure unimaginable stress because it knows no other way. What snaps you back out of dissociation? Usually, either the passage of the triggering stimulus, or an even more relevant stimulus (severe pain from getting beaten up by a nail, for example).
The tragedy is this: we know this isn't a triumph. I think most of us went into that fight the first time, knowing we'd be putting the Hollow Knight out of their misery. The music turns tragic, Hollow screams, and then we see the Radiance and Hollow themself break through: the Radiance trying to fight Ghost directly with the resources she has, and Hollow trying to help her along.
For what it's worth, Hollow even had the right idea, when it came to letting themself rest while helping Ghost stop the madness their father started--they were just digging for the Radiance in the wrong place. The dynamic between the Radiance and the Hollow Knight is something I could write on for pages and pages, but this has gone on for long enough. Tune in next time, where I'll presumably talk about this same topic but in reverse with regards to the Radiance.
#hollow knight#hk#the pure vessel#the pale king#the radiance#my meta#the higher being speaks#i hate fact-checking my abuse infodumps because the ableism against personality disorders is EVERYWHERE#but here this monster of an essay is#anyways the hollow knight as a character sniped my trauma on sight#so i may be a tiny bit biased here But Also I'm Right#abuse //#child abuse //#emotional abuse //#i legit do not know what tags to throw on this#also the overarching title is a reference to the song of the same name from just shapes and beats because. yeah
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