#reason why I was so into Matt as a kid was because I liked disabled superheroes and Matt was what we had
Note
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE EXTRA MATT. you write him so perfectly annoying
THANKS I LIKE HIM MORE THAN HE DESERVES.
Out of all the superheroes I've written in that series he's the first one I actually, like, enjoy and care about, so I had to make him the most insufferably annoying man physically possible. Most of his annoyingness in the final draft was shifted onto the next chapter, since he ended up being used more for plot reasons than anything else, and I we didn't end up with as much of him as I wanted. He might need a side story (for peak annoying). I have a whole-ass backstory and tons of meta for him that I can't share until after the next chapter's published, so check back in then and I can talk more about the ninja industrial complex.
The thing about Daredevil comics is that 60% are mediocre and boring, 30% are good and boring, and 10% are by Waid, Soule, or Zdarsky (so, both good and fun). Miller and Loeb are probably the most influential DD authors, which tells you all about how fun and occasionally questionable the DD status quo is.
The Matt I wrote was closer in tone to Waid, Soule, etc than the status quo Matt, lining up further with Waid's general 'massive troll' energy. This was actually a bit dishonest of me, as Waid's Matt is less a Fraction/Aja style reimagining and more 'this is our normal status quo Matt + one absolute mental breakdown as a result of canon events'. Taking Waid's >:3 Matt wholesale without consideration of the actual root of why he acts like that (Miller Loeb & Bendis induced mental breakdown) does disservice to why the portrayal was interesting. On the other hand, >:3 Matt is fun to read and write and status quo Matt is not. I decided to just pick up on the important lesson from that - that Matt's history is a history of intense pain, that he is somebody who is just so intensely sad constantly, and that it is absolutely best to write him as somebody who is so sad he decided to go apeshit insane.
Anyway, Matt is the other part-timer helper-outer with the Heroes For Hire, and like Jake he feels a sense of superiority over them. He thinks arguing is fun and will argue about anything for absolutely no reason. He didn't really intend to set himself up as someone with no light perception (NLP) and entered college meaning on passing himself off as moderately visually impaired, but when absolutely everybody assumed that the cane and glasses meant you had NLP he just started going with it and things snowballed from there. Foggy is the only one who knows that he's ok at distinguishing objects and spatial perception but that's just because Foggy was the only one who asked. He has his life together in every standard way and is only a disaster at keeping girlfriends alive. Matt, Foggy, and Karen all go clothes shopping together and help each other buy clothes. They color coordinate and Matt doesn't know this. When he was a kid he felt constantly guilty about inconveniencing others and as an adult he's decided to inconvenience everybody around him as much as possible. If you ask him any personal detail, no matter how inconsequential it is, he will lie about it. Responds to most criticism by saying 'can't help being a Libra'. Is a Capricorn.
The best depictions of Matt remember that he is blind. Check back later and I'll describe how he's an accredited yet nonlicensed ninja.
#my writing#reason why I was so into Matt as a kid was because I liked disabled superheroes and Matt was what we had#and reading Waid was the first time I had actually felt like I was reading about a blind character!#almost nobody fucking wrote matt as a blind guy and it was massively lame#I had like one criteria and nobody but waid ever met it#man typing this out I'm realizing that I really didn't get the oppertunity to get into what i would have liked to get into#the intended physical handshake mental disability connection never got drawn#hmmmmmm#issue is you want to do things#and then you have to go 'okay but would matt and jake ever do this'#and they wouldn't so they don't#i might have to write a matt side story too dang.
43 notes
·
View notes
Text
I Am once again asking for season 3 Dndads to be about adults <PLEASE>
specifically my adults here that i have already made!
WELCOME, Folks!!! to my Cyber Punk Nursing home Dndads Pitch!!!
DNDADS PRIDE
(pride is a brand of a motorized wheel chair)
[straps activate on you chair you are stuck here you must read!]
So the idea is that Grandkid's (Scary, Link, Normal, Taylor) Grandkids (shown above) are the playable characters, but there are all seniors who have been placed in a Long Term Care Facility (a better name for "nursing homes" btw). But the world has progressed enough that things are cyberpunk!
maybe all of the PCs loved one's all stop showing up on the same visit day. The PCs combine their efforts to try to find out why, and then they run into a big mystery or conspiracy through that.
themes that could be in season 3 just because we set it in a care facility and have senior Characters.
Normalizing a variety of disabilities and dreaming of how accessibility devices can advance
humanizing people over 50, [Please please please, we've done it to the middle aged, we sexualized the heck outta those dads. ive seen what people have done with Omega Daddies in certain circles (my circles) we have the Power to let retired people be more than a punchline. i want something to look forward to in my older years! let them be silly complex sexual full people PLEASE!!!]
community building!!! alot of care facilities in my area Have social and communal activities they do because their residents get together and demand/them. groups -just like the one ive drawn- get together, out of boredom and loneliness (often people who have better mobility and memory) and then make it their job to work with staff and people who have a harder time advocating for them selves. to make sure social needs and wants are being fulfilled. and now that we have (what i perceive to be) a younger audience. it would be great to show them how that sort of work is done and how it can make a big change to quality of life. [the 3rd character (who i designed for Will) seemed like the type to start one of these groups. just look at her with that big purse and cool jacket. thats a move maker folks!]
the way that older/disabled people are often overlooked, and therefore people often forget to keep secrets away from them. [the second character (i designed for Matt) i wanted him to look as unassuming as possible, for this exact reason]
Interesting Villains and Problems that aren't often shown because people font write about older folks.
an exploration on how technology can help people (and how corporations will make people have to pay for medically necessary things)
the way nurses and care staff can be very helpful and empathetic. and how others are assholes who are at best just here for a paycheck, and at worse actively hurting people for amusement.
Elderly abuse, not just actively hitting people. there are countless examples of people taking advantage of people who are disenfranchised (like an older people or people with disabilities). often we see and talk about financial abuse. [my idea of the first character (hopefully played by Freddie), was someone who seemed oblivious to a deadbeat family member using them for money maybe because of a memory issue. (potentially there could be a twist about the PC knowing the whole time, and deciding to go along because they think its funny that their kid has to sit threw a marathon of daytime television to get 50$ a week instead of just outright asking for a lump sum)]
#dndads#my art#dndads season 3#please please please#let them be adults at least#dndads Pride#dungeons and daddies
23 notes
·
View notes
Note
So if Dana said she didn't have any original season 3 ideas, why did she also say on Twitter that she wanted 10-20 half hours for season 3?
Now apparently from the transcript and the like, what was said that there were like one sentence pitches for episodes but nothing concrete or the like. That I believe. After all, it's like taking sticky notes and using them to jot down passing thoughts. But... Ideas don't mean anything. You need to have an actual coherent thought as to how you are going to use those ideas as a creator.
So when she says she wanted those episodes, I believe her. But... Instead of it being so she could have coherently finished her story, something you can feel isn't exactly happening during S3, it would have been to explore her ideas and let it be her mouthpiece. Even as far back as S1, you can clearly see this conflict in the show. The First Day lets her take potshots at modern education and saying kids should have more freedom... At the expense of everyone forgetting that multi-tracking is literally illegal. But the idea was more important than the overall story so in it went.
Besides, when asked about your work that you cherish so much, are you going to tell people you wanted LESS time to do whatever you wanted? Or are you going to say you wanted as much time as possible? Especially since without a solid plan, you can't be like Matt Braley who straight up went "Nope. Amphibia wasn't shortened. It was always planned to be three seasons."
I still stand by the idea that Dana actually wanted to just keep going WELL past S3. Even now, she wants to do a spin off and one of her greatest regrets for what was missed was not being allowed to do more teenage Raeda stuff in the show. A second episode in the past. Expanding on what? Who knows but it's more time spent with the ship that Dana clearly loved.
I am not saying Dana was lying or a bad person but the question that is worth asking is if that time would have been spent actually wrapping up plot threads or exploring characters as they are now. Otherwise, it would end up being like the S2B and S3 we got where we are still getting elements added, refusing to wrap up story elements, and having to drag back plot points from almost entire seasons ago (Willow and Amity's friendship), if not MULTIPLE seasons ago (Willow's lack of power control) just to do something with these characters despite it being way too late to treat those elements as relevant. There is a reason why if I hear that Dana is the lead for another cartoon, I'll probably be staying away. Not when I don't want promising statements to never have a plan behind. Not again.
Expected this to be shorter. I'm rambly though. Also just wanted to clear this out. Admittedly, it's stuff like this that makes it so that if anyone ever told me they didn't trust me as a writer, I'd understand. Not because of me wasting time but because my mental health gets in the way and can cause ideas to die as my brain just refuses to write them. How we as writers use our time with the audience is important. It leaves an impression and for me, Dana's impression is incredibly negative because I care about story, even if characters come first to me.
Sigh.
======+++++======
I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!
I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past.
I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead.
If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.
A Twitter you can follow too
And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.
29 notes
·
View notes
Text
Chenford REWIND - Lucy Chen / Tim Bradford - The Rookie - Season 2 Ep 2
"The Night General" AKA Somebody to Lean On
This one came in as a request, and it's one that I'm really excited to do. It's fun to take a look at post-Quarantine House Tim/Lucy in more detail, especially considering Tim and Lucy's movement in Episode 1 of the season via her standing up to him and his respect of her.
SPOILER ALERT: This episode and everything that came before it are fair game. If you wish to remain un-spoiled, please don't read anymore. I do try to write these as though I'm watching them for the first time without knowledge of the future.
Everyone squared away? Then we're ready to dive in.
"Chief Williams added another book to your Sergeant's Exam Reading List." "Split Second Leadership: Leading Men in the Line of Duty." "Men?" "It's from the 60's. How is this relevant to the 21st century policing?" "Ours is not to reason why, Officer Bradford. Read the book." "Yes sir."
At this point, only Tim knows why this is bad news for him. From the outside, it might look like he is being obstinate or lazy. But Tim is struggling.
My little brother has a learning disability. He's a genius with a learning disability. No, I'm not exaggerating.
My brother can't write or spell. He'll tell you an elaborate story with five-syllable words with perfect grammar, but the minute he tries to write it, it looks like a Kindergartner wrote it.
He had a teacher in college who insisted he was faking it and throwing his papers because he didn't have a written diagnosis from a doctor. He dropped out of school. He never finished.
My point? Learning disabilities can happen to anyone and it's easy to be quick-to-judge. No wonder people don't want to share. No wonder there's so much shame and stigma.
No wonder Tim didn't say anything. No wonder he honestly doesn't know... because, in his family, it would be seen as "less than", "not good enough", a "screw-up".
"If I have to suffer, so do you. So, you're going to read this out loud to me between calls. Only way I'm gonna get it memorized in time." "Or, I could drive and you could read it by yourself."
Admit it, Lucy. You're just looking for an excuse to drive! In all seriousness, it makes sense. But, again, it's easy to assume that Tim's pride in being the one to drive is getting in the way of him "taking this seriously".
"It's hard enough to listen to it without your editorializing."
Okay, I am totally with Tim on this one. Sometimes when we're reading to the kids, Matt will do this, and suddenly 10 minutes of calm reading has turned into 30 minutes of kids bouncing off the walls because they couldn't focus to finish the story straight through.
"You're gonna have to re-read all of this anyway to really memorize it." "No. I memorize best when I hear it." "Really?"
I love this shot. Lucy leaning over the book, tight on her face as she processes the information of how he processes.
My Middle is Autistic/ADHD with an auditory processing disorder and suspected reading processing disorder. Eldest is ADD or ADHD (final diagnosis later this month) and Littlest has her full testing for Autism/ADHD at the beginning of next month. I know a lot about people processing differently.
But as Lucy's wheels are turning, she realizes what might be going on with Tim. But how do you broach a subject like that with TO Era Tim?
Lucy's had fun poking at Tim with the parts of the book she likes (especially the value of every officer), but the whole reason she poked was because of Tim's apparent sense of superiority. Yes, she knows it's a veil, but it's still hard to poke through, at this point.
This is different.
"Why?" "Nothing."
Nothing is never nothing. I think I write this once every other Meta. On this show, nothing is never nothing.
"Boot!" "You might have a learning difference." "What?" "Technically, it's classified as a disability, but it really just means that you're wired to process information differently. In your case, through, through hearing, rather than reading." "I don't have a learning disability."
I remember the conversations with my husband for years.
I told him I suspected he was ADD (my mother, brother, step-father, and step-brother are all ADD/ADHD... the only reason we know I'm not is because my little brother wouldn't take his test without me and Mom taking it, too).
Matthew would shrug it off because he didn't have a "Disorder". But when he was 38, his mother let it slip to me that he was diagnosed at 8... and they never told him. They hid it. They didn't want the stigma.
So, he spent his entire life struggling and not understanding why. He got re-diagnosed at 38, and his first morning on medication, he let me sleep in. I woke to him lying next to me, tears in his eyes.
"The clouds are gone," he breathed into the space between us. And then I was crying, too.
He'd had these clouds his entire life and thought it was just how he was. He didn't know there was help. He didn't know his life could be better. All because his parents hid his diagnosis.
We put so much damn stigma on this stuff that humans are suffering unnecessarily for the sake of societal niceties. And for Tim, there's definitely stigma and shame associated with having a learning disability. It's how he was raised.
"A lot of people have them. I bet Isabel helped you in the Academy, read through the materials and stuff." "We're not talking about this."
Talk about wheels turning... we can see Tim's as he thinks about all the times he and Isabel sat up, her reading to him.
He thought it was the sweetest thing, and it became their thing. I bet she read him other things, too, like fiction books, or autobiographies on his favorite sports figures.
But thinking about Isabel (still a very fresh hurt) and the stigma of having a learning disability is too much for Tim.
Because growing up, any "difference" was called out as a failing. Yes, I know those of you in early S2 don't yet know all of Tim's backstory, so I am reaching forward a little on this one.
But, it's important to understand why Tim reacts so strongly and so swiftly.
Tim ends conversations before he can lose his cool. Losing control could lead him to become the person he hates most in the world, so he does everything to avoid it. But, he's been on edge all year.
Hell, for more than a year. Because ever since Isabel disappeared, he lost that one little piece of his life that made sense.
Then, this ball of sunshine came into his life, blinding him with goodness and light. He tried at first to temper it, but I fully believe that the longer he's in her glow, the more his eyes adjust, and the more he shifts to helping refine her rather than dim that glow.
"Watch your tone, Boot." "Oh, you don't get to call her 'Boot', Rex. You're retired. She's the police, now."
Boom, Baby!! Tim Bradford putting an asshole in his place will always be good television.
"Let's see your bail bonds license and the warrant on your jumper." "You let her talk to you like that?"
Bitch, you don't want to see how I'm gonna talk to you if you don't back off. Tim's not biting on the "camaraderie" angle, here.
As tough as Tim can be, as much of an absolute ass as he can be... he's a stickler for the rules.
"Look, the hole you're in has nothing to do with Lopez. But she's gonna pay the price when the commander's son goes belly-up halfway through training." "I told him it's not her fault." "Yeah, so tell him, again. Lopez bent over backwards for you. She protected your ass when any other TO would've sent you packing. You owe her your career." "I know."
Don't. Mess. With. People. Tim. Loves. Tim and Angela's friendship is one of my favorite relationships on the show. Tim just stood up for Lucy and here he is standing up for Angela.
Now, I'm not saying Tim loves Lucy, yet. We're a long way off from that, if these two get their act together. But, I think it's important to see his consistency.
Tim's Tests might make him seem unpredictable, but there's a reason and a rhythm for everything that he does. And when it comes to his friends—to the people he loves—he's always going to stick out his neck. Even if it means risking himself.
"Do you want me to read to you?" "No." "Come on."
Now that she knows he has a learning disability, she wants to help. Now that he thinks she thinks he has a learning disability, he wants to run.
Lucy is a gentle, kind, loving human. She wants to help. It's her default state. But accepting help goes against everything that was ever beaten into Tim.
It was fine when he was ordering her to read to him. But now that there's a stigma involved, he doesn't want it.
"You have to learn it." "I can do that on my own."
See? And Tim's not trying to be an asshole. He's trying to 'be a man', 'cowboy up', and 'do it on your own'. You know... all the bullshit men are too-often taught from boyhood.
He's shying away from Lucy's help because he's ashamed.
Alright, Future Rachel needs to tell you that Tim Bradford hasn't had an easy life. His childhood was less than ideal. His marriage seemed good until it wasn't.
Seeing the worst in himself is easy, but having others see him as weak in any way? He can't have that. He puts up all this bravado and these thick walls around his heart to protect himself.
Lucy just found another tiny crack in his defenses. And instead of letting her light in to help heal his hurts, he's afraid it will burn.
"Training for the rematch with Nico?"
Tim's blowing off steam. That fight was tougher than expected, and Tim's going to do everything he can to stay in top shape. But, he's also processing.
Lucy processes by talking things out. Tim processes with a punching bag and sweat pouring down his brow. The beautiful thing about people is how different we are, yet we find a way to coexist. We learn to speak one another's languages.
My husband's a BIG gift person. He loves to give and receive. I struggle with physical possessions because of how I grew up.
But I know that small gifts throughout the year help him remember I'm thinking of him (buying his favorite coffee... a latte from the local café). And he knows making me a chai latte at home, or holding me when I'm upset lets me know he's thinking of me.
We love one another. We just don't experience love the same way. Same is true for Tim and Lucy. We're in the phase of them learning how to speak one another's languages. This is crucial if they're ever going to be in a romantic relationship.
Tim greets her almost with a smile as he turns to face her.
"Here." "What's this?" "It is 'Split Second Leadership: Leading Men in the Line of Duty' the Audio book." "The book's out of print. There's no audio book." "Yeah, which is why I recorded one for you."
"Lucy Chen, will you marry me?" I mean, that's what he's supposed to say, right? That's what you would say, right?
Because, let's break this down for a second—she stayed up all night doing this. This morning when she asked him if he wanted her to read to him, she knew what his answer would be.
But then they had this stressful-ass day, and she had to wait for the file to finish rendering, which might've taken all day because audio files with any quality are a beast.
Look, I was a voice over artist for over 20 years. I only left the studio where I was a contract player because I couldn't afford a home studio and now live over an hour from the studio. So, I've done a lot of commercials, on-hold messages, and, yes, books.
The kids especially love my reading of "Elmo Visits the Dentist" that they can listen to on YouTube whenever they want. Why go into all this? I know how long it takes to read a book aloud at a pace that is easy for others to process.
Immediately after learning that her TO needed to listen to learn, she took the damn book home (because she was the one holding it the next morning) and she recorded herself reading it for him.
She likely got no sleep as she set it to render and upload into the device to hand to him while she got ready to leave for work.
I bet she even went home, grabbed the device, then ran back so she could give it to him.
This is a labor of love. No, she's not in-love with Tim. But she cares about him. And this ball of sunshine is radiating in his life more and more.
We are post Quarantine House. We are post Lucy calling Tim on the Isabel stuff she should have reported. We've established that they trust one another.
But this is next level. Six months into her training, and Lucy's already breaking through so many of Tim's walls.
"Uh, listen, I talked to Isabel and from what she said, it's clear you're a kinesthetic learner, which just means you need to listen while you're being active in order to absorb things."
Girlfriend just called up her future husband's ex like a boss. Again, she did this yesterday. Lucy wastes no time when it comes to Tim. Keep that in mind for the future...
"There's no shame in it. Really."
Watch his face. His jaw clench. His body relaxes as he sighs. His eyes soften. Because, all his life any sign of being "different" was weakness. Any sign of being "not good enough" was punishable by pummeling.
Isabel didn't realize he had a learning disability from what we can tell. She just knew that he'd ask her to read to him. My husband and I used to read to one another (pre-kids) and it was a tremendous act of love.
But Lucy put a name to it. And Tim's been spiraling out about it ever since. Because there's a stigma that comes with words like that, tragically.
"Honestly, it's probably why you excel at being a cop."
Tim absorbs her words. She doesn't think he's a freak. She doesn't think he's a project. She doesn't think he's broken. She thinks he's a good cop.
Her view of him hasn't changed because of his learning disability. This is so important.
My Middle has been Autistic his entire life, right? But we only got the official diagnosis when he was 5 because he stopped eating and was rapidly losing weight. A family member actually said "How can I be [related to] an Autistic child?" I said, "You've done a fine job the last 5 years."
Who he is didn't change with his diagnosis. But there are always people who recoil at it because of the stigma associated with it.
Tim was afraid Lucy would think of him differently... but she doesn't. She still sees Tim as the hard-ass, soft-hearted, semi-asshole she has to deal with every day for another six months.
And, strange as it sounds, that's the most reassuring thing Lucy could say to him.
"Thanks."
Lucy ducks her head in a nod as she leaves. It's so sweet. Lucy knows him well enough to understand this is difficult for him. She has a strong understanding of psychology, and a growing understanding of Tim Bradford.
Sticking around won't help him. Letting him get to work will help. She knows him well enough not to hover, and she knows better than to expect compliments from Tim at this phase.
Hell, that "Thanks" was unexpected and I'm surprised she was able to keep moving after she heard it instead of calling it out.
Maybe she just really needs the sleep after all she's done for him. She deserves it!
"Split Second Leadership by Curtis Philbrick, read by the best Rookie you've ever trained."
Tim can't help but smile at that. And it's a real smile. The kind the shows his teeth and reaches his eyes. The kind Lucy won't see, yet.
Lucy offered Tim a piece of herself when she handed over that audio recording. No, it's not romantic. But it is a gift, nonetheless. This was above and beyond anything required of her as a Rookie—she did it as a friend.
And Tim accepted the gift. I don't think we talk enough about this. Lucy sent him food one episode ago and he told her she "shouldn't have". But there's no fighting this gift.
Because the events of 2x01 were a big shift for these two that we don't talk enough about. Lucy making it to the halfway mark and doing well on her exam. Lucy calling Tim on his shit when he tried to distance himself from her by being extra assholery. Lucy going beast-mode chasing that fake cop.
And here we are in 2x02 and Tim who was humbled by Lucy one episode ago is now unintentionally wounded. Because he thinks she sees him as "less than". He thinks her opinion of him somehow lessened because he's been raised to see a "learning disability" as a bad thing.
When Lucy turns it around at the end and says it's his super power, that's powerful. She helped him see himself in a different way. The king of coming at something sideways has met his match. So, what could he say after a gift like that? He wouldn't reject it. He couldn't.
Because Lucy gave him the gift of a shift in perspective. And those readers who are from the future, like me, know he'll repay that gift in a huge way in that same room not too long from now.
They're not in love, yet. But they are on their way to friendship, and learning one another's love languages on the way. So if when they finally arrive at love, it'll be a deep love. It'll be a love that grows. It'll be a love that thrives.
Because true love often takes effort... but it's worth it.
Tim Pays it Forward
Look, Tim takes care of his people. We already know that. But I also like to think that Tim recognized something of himself in Rex thanks to Lucy's kindness.
Rex doesn't like asking for help. Neither does Tim. But if Tim isn't careful, he could end up like Rex.
Now, Rex likely didn't have a Lucy. But, he does have a Tim. And that's damn good, too.
As ever, thank you for reading. This one is one I'm super passionate about with my family history and the children I'm raising.
Now, I'm not going to pretend it's all peachy-keen. It can be really, really tough raising three neurodivergent children, and there are very bad days. But for Tim, his learning disability really can be a super power.
Also, oh, isn't it fun watching Tim and Lucy of Season 2 on their way? So much fun!
Hope your weekend's been lovely! Mine's been so quiet, it's lovely. Currently have three Littles in bed with me as we have a pajama/movie day. It's the little things!
See you on the next!
72 notes
·
View notes
Text
Promise
Another Murderdock story
After the death of her parents, Y/N no longer had anyone to take care of her and so she was sent to the Saint Agnes orphanage.
It had been hard. There were a lot of children, not necessarily nice ones, not a lot of adults, mostly nuns, who could be very cold, and feeling lonely, Y/N had cried a lot the first week.
Her crying annoyed everyone, but there was one boy who seemed more annoyed than the others by her sadness.
His name was Matthew Murdock.
Y/N had heard of him, or rather her parents had spoken of him, years earlier, when his actress mother had been killed by a truck, which had blinded Matt. Then his father had become quite a famous boxer, and he had also been killed.
Obviously Matt was even less lucky than her in life.
He knew it, and he didn't want anyone to pity him, he wanted to show to everyone that he was strong, and that he shouldn't be bothered.
As with Y/N. Because if he came to speak to her for the first time, to speak of her tears, it was not because he felt sorry for her, but because it kept him from sleeping.
"The first night, I understand. If you're having a nightmare, why not. But it's been seven days. Stop it." he ordered, tapping the ground with his little cane.
"But... You can't hear me, we don't sleep in the same room."
"... Just stop crying."
Of course, Y/N being a child, it made her cry even more.
Matt sighed, realized he wasn't using the right method, and decided to be a little nicer.
He came to sit with her for dinner, they chatted for a bit, discovered that they had several things in common, besides being orphans, and at the end of the day, Y/N wasn't crying anymore, and Matt seemed more relaxed.
This pleased the nuns very much. From the whispers Y/N could hear, it had been a few months since Matt had arrived, and he had stayed away from the other kids, refusing to talk to them.
He was only comfortable with certain adults, like Father Lantom, or the old man they had hired to help him with his disability.
Matt heard them too, grimacing, but before he could react, Y/N took his hand to lead him to her room, to hide under her covers and forget about the outside world.
"They all think I'm fragile. That I need help. I don't need anyone."
"It's okay to need someone sometimes." Y/N reasoned. "That doesn't mean you're weak."
"Whatever. I'm fine on my own."
"Oh... Well, I like you. I... I thought we could be friends."
With his glasses, it was difficult to know what Matt was thinking. He stood still for a long moment, not moving, before nodding his head, muttering something incomprehensible about a stick, before smiling shyly.
"I would like us to be friends too."
For two years, they were. Matt and Y/N were inseparable, best friends.
Several times they almost got adopted, but each time there was a problem and they came back to the orphanage after a few days. It didn't bother them at all. They were happy to be together again.
Moreover, they made the promise that if one day they were really adopted, they would continue to talk to each other, and that they would meet again later.
"Well, I will see you. You will hear me." Y/N joked.
"Sight is overrated anyway ! I don't need it, I'm better than most people."
"It's true that you sometimes do things as if you could see."
"I... Can you promise to keep a secret ?"
Matt told her about his super senses, and his training with Stick. Still too young, Y/N did not understand everything, not seeing that it was not normal for an old man to fight with a blind kid to make him a soldier, only thinking that it was really cool that her friend was like a ninja with powers.
Her reaction pleased Matt. Stick had told him not to trust anyone, not even himself. He had told him that friends were useless. But Matt liked Y/N a lot, he felt good with her, and he didn't want to lie to her.
He had only been afraid that she would judge him, or tell him it was wrong. His father would have told him that it was wrong, that he should use his head, not his fists. It was quite hypocritical for a boxer.
When they were totally alone, he would talk to her about what he could hear and smell, in the rest of the orphanage and outside. Sometimes, at night, Y/N would whispers things in her bed, knowing he could hear her while he was in his room. Matt also taught her some boxing and fighting moves.
But she didn't have to know how to fight. With Stick, he was going to win the war, he was going to protect her, and everything would be fine.
Then one day, Matt didn't come back from his practice. Neither did the old man.
No one seemed to panic. That was one less mouth to feed. No doubt Stick had decided to take Matt. Or the boy had run away. Or someone else had taken him. To avoid trouble, the nuns called the police, but nothing else.
There was only Y/N to worry and cry, praying every day, hoping that Matt would show up, staying near the window.
Then she was adopted by a very nice family. But she never forgot Matthew Michael Murdock. She even kept some pictures, not very good ones, that the nuns had taken of them.
It was a shock to read his name in the newspaper, years later. To see his picture.
Matt had changed, without having changed. He had grown up, of course, he had become a lawyer and he was wearing red, lots of red. He had the same hair. His glasses were round now. It was especially his smile that was different. Weird.
But it was just a picture, it didn't mean anything.
Several times she tried to contact him, calling his office, but since she was not a client, the secretary always hung up on her. She didn't know where he lived. It would have been really weird to wait for him in court to say, "Hello, do you remember me ? We were friends in Saint Agnes, before you disappeared without a trace for over twenty years. Want to go drink with me ?"
She could also have stood anywhere in town to call out his name, and wait. Because he would hear it, with his super senses. But he didn't have to answer. Maybe he didn't want to answer. Maybe he had forgotten her.
After all, they had promised to meet again, they were now in the same town, and he didn't really seem to be looking for her. Maybe it was her last name. Her adoptive family's name.
Y/N knew that was ridiculous. That she had to move on. And at the same time, she wanted to know. She wanted to know what had happened to him. If he was fine.
Since she couldn't contact him, she asked other people. Most of the time, they knew nothing more than what was in the press. Others seemed... frightened when they heard his name. Looking at her strangely, like she was crazy.
"You shouldn't ask about this guy. Bad luck will happen to you."
"... Why ?"
"Listen, you seem like a good girl. Forget it and go home quickly."
According to some rumours, Matt was the lawyer of someone called the Kingpin. A dangerous, cruel man, head of the mafia. That was certainly what made people nervous.
That didn't mean Matt was bad. Matt was just doing his job. Maybe he didn't know, or he didn't have a choice. Anyway, the Matt she knew was nice, he wanted to win the war against Evil and protect the innocent. Y/N sometimes wondered if that was why he disappeared.
Anyway, the Kingpin seemed to learn that she was asking things about his lawyer, and he didn't like it, since he sent a man to follow her.
Y/N was not a fighter, not at all. She didn't like violence. She was just going to the gym to exercise, to know how to defend herself just in case, and to remember what Matt had shown her.
One of Battlin' Jack Murdock's punches was very useful against his assailant, who tried to grab her to drag her into an alley. As he groaned, his nose probably broken and bleeding, Y/N managed to get away.
However, that didn't scare her enough to stop her trying to find out what had happened to Matt. Someone had to know something. And if the Kingpin knew she was snooping, he could send Matt directly.
And at the end he decided to send Matt directly, unless their meeting in front of an elevator in a hospital was totally coincidental.
Knowing he could hear her heart pounding, Y/N tried to remain calm, telling herself that it was her childhood friend, right there beside her, and that it was a joyful moment. She had no reason to be nervous or scared.
Smiling shyly, she asked him which floor he was going to, and he thanked her with a big smile, that weird big smile he had in the picture in the newspaper. A fake smile. Almost cruel.
Maybe Matt had gone bad after all.
Y/N wondered as he pressed the emergency stop button with his cane, before snuggling dangerously against her, looking menacing, but still smiling.
"I heard that you ask a lot of questions about me. I'm not sure what you're looking for or who sent you, but I strongly advise you not to get involved in matters that are beyond your control."
"Uh... what ?"
"Don't play the innocent. You won't find anything on me, especially not with such deplorable methods. You don't even try to be discreet. I must admit, however, that you know how to use your little fists. It was an admirable punch. I hope it wasn't just luck, it would be a shame."
"I... I don't understand."
It was the truth, Y/N didn't understand why Matt was so aggressive, or what he was talking about. Well, for the punch, she knew, but for the rest, she had the impression that he had the wrong person.
Except that even though he was blind, Matt had his other senses, and he was very intelligent, so it seemed hard for him to get the wrong person.
Since he could hear she wasn't lying, he winced as he stepped back slightly.
"...What do you want then ?"
"I... I'm looking for a friend." It technically wasn't a lie.
"Oh ? And what makes you say I know where your dear friend is ?"
"I... He... Matt..."
"We're already on the first basis names, darling ?" he purred then as he walked back over to her, his face almost touching hers.
"No. Matt. I... We were at the orphanage together. I'm Y/N. I... You disappeared overnight without anyone knowing what happened to you. I was very worried, and I was glad to see you were alive. I mean, if you're the right Matt. No offence, I don't know if there's a lot of blind Matthew Murdock. I just wanted to see you again, know if you were okay. How are you ?"
If the smile was different, the expression he had at that moment was the same as when they were hiding in her bed, and she had told him that she wanted to be his friend. A mixture of shock and loss. Again, the glasses didn't allow his eyes to be seen.
He backed away again, further this time, whispering her name, as if testing it.
"... You remember me."
"Of course, we were friends. Best friends."
"You were worried." he continued as if he hadn't heard her. "You want to know if I'm okay."
"Yes, I really wanted to see you again. We had promised to meet again. You... You won the war ? With Stick ? Is that why you left ? I didn't say anything, to no one, I know it was a secret."
This seemed to really unsettle him, Matt wincing even more, his face now contorting in rage and pain. Obviously no, he hadn't made the war, or he hadn't won.
Y/N wanted to ask him, but suddenly he hit the wall next to her with his cane. He reached out his hand towards her, towards her neck, which made her jump, and when he heard her squeal of fear, and her heart racing, he groaned, pressed the button and quickly got out of the elevator.
Fighting back tears, she walked home, accepting that Matt was no longer the friendly, kind boy she had known, that he wanted nothing more to do with her, and that she needed to forget about him.
Anyway, that's what she thought, until she received a bouquet of roses, with a little card, that said "Be more careful. - M. M. M.", with a phone number.
She had more questions than answers, but at least she had a way to contact him now, and maybe like when they were kids, Matt would explain everything to her eventually.
#daredevil#matt murdock#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock imagine#matt murdock fanfic#dark Matt#matt murderdock#earth 65
231 notes
·
View notes
Text
Documentary director Matt Kay
Excerpts from two recent interviews with the director attached to the newly announced Lewis Hamilton documentary
Why do you think diversity in film both on and off screen is important?
“There’s loads of reasons and I could spend a whole hour just on that, but if I was to give a short answer, it would be that I feel that you’re never quite sure what is possible until you can see what is possible, so it’s extremely important to have role models that look like you in potentially inspirational spaces. I also think it's really important to provide opportunities for the next generation and for kids to have a shot and then be able to make something of themselves. You need to see something inspiring for you to then be able to be inspiring yourself.
“I also think that whatever diversity looks like – it could be through disability, through race, through age, through sex – I feel like you need those different types of voices to contribute and it’s not just about giving people a helping hand, it’s about what they’re also giving you and the value in that diversity, and so I would try and encourage other people to see the power in diversity and if you are from a diverse background, whatever you want to take that to mean, it's good to see our own self-worth through what we have to offer.”
How do you find the subjects for your films and what are the qualities you look for which you think make for great stories?
“Making a documentary takes a huge amount of time and is a big commitment both from their side of things and from yours, so you want to do it with people that you get on with and that you’re interested in and believe in. It also needs to be something that I will really want to see as well if I think of it as a finished thing. I prefer to be surrounded by people I would like to be spending time with, not people that I’m infuriated with the whole time, so I prefer to do films with inspiring people who I think are doing amazing things and that are going to cool places and doing cool things that I would like to tag along with.”
“ - so there’s the film itself but then also, from a socially minded place, trying to make an impact there as well. When I finish a film, I try to see it in two ways: how can we get it in front of the most people but then also, how can we try and effect change by showing it to people who may have more power to do something?”
[↑ 1] [2 ↓]
“I’ve been making docs for about nine years [as of 2020] and have worked with broadcasters, platforms and brands throughout that time. Documentary filmmaking has taken me to favelas, an illegal detention centre in the desert and even a floating village! I’ve been lucky enough to have met many amazing people along the way and filmed in lots of countries.”
Regarding his Netflix short Little Miss Sumo
“I was inspired by the unique situation of female sumo wrestlers. They dedicate their lives to the sport training three hours a day, six days a week only to have to give it up when they graduate because women are banned from professional sumo. I was inspired by their passion for the sport despite being restricted. There are unfortunately many glass ceilings present in the world for women but I haven’t encountered many as overt as in the world of sumo where it is written into the rules that they are forbidden from competing.
I contacted a few sumo clubs and Ritsumeikan was the oldest in Japan and receptive to me filming so I decided to film there. Hiyori was the youngest sumo wrestler at the club, she came from a village in the mountains and had just started university in the big city so I thought this was a particularly formative period for her. She also studied Gender Studies which I thought was really interesting and may influence her perspective on the female ban.”
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
JAY HALSTEAD
Bomb Squad Alternative
Requested: yes
Prompts: none
Warning(s): none
Author's note: Here is another crossover between firefighter Y/N and Jay Halstead. Hope you enjoyed since I’m really proud lol. Personally I think this would be a great episode.
Requests for Jay are open again so send in your ideas! I’m thinking about putting out Christmas prompts since I’m feeling festive. Also, I’m quarantied :( went to test yesterday and I’m waiting for the results to kick in. I feel fine so I shouln’t worry but I still do yk? Anyhow, school is a b and I’m doing online atm (maybe high schools will switch to online completely until Christmas but who knows at this point).
It’s also exam weeks so that’s why I’ve been lacking time to get back to writing.
Now perpare for me to get on my knees for you at the end of this one shot. <3
~
“Everyone get out of the station!” You exclaimed, barging through the train station with the rest of 51. Your loud voices and heavy gear alerted everyone enough to get them to move back.
“What do you think you’re doing?” A police officer questioned, throwing an accusing eyebrow your way.
Your lieutenant left you to the police officer’s mercy with a nod of his head. You sighed, turning to the man but still keeping a steady pace with the rest of your team. “There is a bomb threat, we need to evacuate the train station.”
“A bomb threat? I didn’t get a call,” He fought, looking around as if the bomb might be anywhere. Which was true.
“The intelligence is on their way, but I suggest you give us some room to do our job,” Matt joined his voice with you to explain. Although he quickly returned to shouting.
Soon enough, you saw two dark clothed figures march down the stairs towards you. Your boyfriend came striding down towards all of you, his blue eyes assassinating the surrounding situation.
Until they fell on you.
He looks good, you allowed yourself to think. Admiring his lean figure - the leather jacket covering his muscular arms and proud CPD badge at his hip - you watched as he stalked towards you. The old lady that was clutching to your side shakily suddenly became invisible to your eyes.
You weren’t surprised to see his jaw tick at the sight of you, which made you shake your head in annoyance. Helping the lady catch the arms of a fellow firefighter became your priority. You watched as she walked outside on unsteady legs.
“Y/LN, Casey.” Your chief grabbed your attention, “What’s the situation?”
“Still no sight of the bomb chief,” Matt said. “We’re trying to get out as many people as possible.”
“It’s rush hour Chief,” You breathed, glancing at Jay for a second before giving Wallace your full attention. “The next train will be here in 10 minutes. If this bomb has a timer then that’s exactly when it will go off. We need the bomb squad here now.”
“Understood. Voight?”
The sergeant looked at Jay who shook his head. “Stuck in traffic.”
You caught Matt muttering a violent curse under his breath, which only tempted you to do the same.
“Chief we need help!”
Severide’s shout brought you and Matt to your senses immediately. There was no time to think as you both ran towards him with your heavy gear on both your shoulders.
“Y/N stop!”
It was Jay who made you halt in your tracks to turn around. “What?”
He reached for your elbow, and with ease pulled you away. “Look I...”
You knew what was going on in his head. His protective nature over you often interferes with many things, including your job. But not today.
“I know you’re worried Jay, okay?” You reasoned, gloved hands grabbing his forearms in reassurance. “But this is my job. Trust me - I hate that we’re put in this situation but there’s nothing we can do except have each other's back.”
Jay let out a loose breath of fear before masking it under a facade of blankness. He waved his hand at the police officers, giving them a sign to follow him. “Be careful.”
You bobbed your head before planting a kiss to his cheek and running back to the scene.
The sight in front of you broke your heart.
A tiny boy with tears coloring his face sat at the bench with his foot dangling over the edge, connected to what looked like a time bomb. He was all alone - barely even 7 years old, with a bright yellow beanie covering his blonde curls. Rosy tear stained cheeks, and blue eyes filled with fear made you drop on your knees immediately.
Carefully, you approached him. The fear that brew inside was pushed aside and you plastered on a smile. “Hi buddy. My name’s Y/N. We’re here to help you”
You seized the ticking bomb and managed to decipher the numbers. Shaking your head, you ignored the buzzing of your anxious heart and grabbed your radio, dialing. “We have three minutes chief. No time to wait for the bomb squad. I have to do it.”
***
Jay looked at the police officers who surrounded him in an uneven half circle, and shook his head. He could see the men trembling, hands shaking and beads of sweat appearing at their foreheads.
“Alright listen up,” He boomed. “We need to evacuate immediately. Threaten with arrest, I don’t care. Just get the civilians out of here.”
They nodded in sync, each man letting out a different toned response before leaving him be to watch what was revealing a few yards away. Jay wouldn’t admit it, but he was shaking inside. His fingertips itched to grab your heavily clothed body and swing you over his shoulder in an attempt to keep you safe... No matter how chauvinistic that sounded.
But Jay Halstead had decided to date a strong woman. A dedicated feminist at that - a woman that refused to be manhandled unless it was to take her to bed when she desired.
Now he watched her - you - shout and shove around the train station, desperate to do what his job was too. Was he a bad man for not really caring if that man that just brushed his expensive suit against his shoulder came out of there safe? He only had eyes on you, so that’s why he spent moments watching you work around like a hawk.
And then you kneeled, and your colleagues stepped out of the way. Without his permission, his dark brows bunched together and his eyes narrowed at your stature. What are you doing?
His answer fell from the sky quickly - although not literally. Voight and Boden strode to his side to discuss the situation.
“There is no time to wait for the bomb squad,” Boden said roughly, his jaw clenching. “If that bomb isn’t deactivated within the next 3 minutes not only is that boy going to die...everyone on this block will.”
Voight knew what he meant by that. Thousands of casualties. Not only will Chicago lose millions of dollars worth of repair if the block blows up - as first responders what came to their minds were the civilians. How many of them will die or be injured because of a simple mistake of following protocol and waiting? They had a firefighter there, on the scene, ready to disable the bomb and save them.
Only that firefighter was you. And that made their decision ten times harder to make.
But Boden was sure in you, and so was Voight. “Okay. Do what you gotta do.”
Wallace nodded, griping his radio. “Y/N. Go for it.”
Y/N? Jay couldn’t believe his ears. It completely slipped his mind that you had been trained for this. At that moment, his body and mind said no. He forgot all about equality you have been trying to tattoo into his mind. You were you at that moment. A simple girl he fell in love with and wanted to protect.
“What the hell Sarge?!”
***
“Okay,” You sighed enthusiastically, hoping to divert the boy’s attention to your relaxed posture. “I need you to be really still for me. Can you do that?”
The boy could barely nod as Sylvie held his head still in the cervical collar.
“What’s your name?” Sylvie asked him, ignoring the fact that two minutes were left on the clock. You went straight to work the moment his attention was diverted and his leg was no longer shaking.
Swiftly, you grasped the leg of his pants and pulled it up, revealing the leather that was sunk in his flesh. You winced, “His leg circulation is bad.”
“Just focus on the bomb,” She reassured you quietly.
You grabbed the equipment and started to work on disabling it. Each step was more difficult than the other. You felt yourself tremble as the end seemed to never come any closer to you no matter how much you reached for it. “Go.”
“What? We’re not leaving you.“ It was Severide who spoke, only a meter or two away from you. Shaking your head at another trap within the system you decided that you needed all the help you could get.
1 minute.
“Jay?” You murmured against the radio - Jay’s reply was instant.
“Y/N you can do this,” his voice was raspier through the line, more prominent and harsh. Nevertheless, his words soothed you.
“I need help,” you told him. “You said this man is crazy right? Well I think there’s a story here. These wires mean something. Blue, white, yellow.”
You weren’t allowed to go for it... not when so many lives were at risk. This man was smart, that much you knew. There has to be a meaning behind the colors.
Jay could help you more than anyone. You knew it. He knew it too.
Blue, white, yellow.
***
“Blue, white, yellow.” He mumbled, not allowing himself to look at his watch. You didn’t have much time, he knew it - Jay just didn’t want a definite reminder of it.
He rocked his brain for explanations. For a clue within this case. Something.
30 seconds.
“Everyone evacuate now!” Boden shouted into his radio. Jay shut it out. His voice didn’t matter. Only you did.
Like an eagle, he searched for you and found you: crouched in front of the yellow capped boy, acting like his anchor he could hold onto. He couldn’t see how shaky you were from afar, he could only hope you were okay.
10 seconds.
“Jay!”
Yellow.
“This kid was his last target. He looks for the details,“ He explained to you. “Yellow.”
***
Like his beanie. You casted a stray glance at the boy, flashing him a tight lipped smile. The puffy beanie that was supposed to protect him from the cold just became the thing that saved his life. And the poor boy didn’t even know it.
3...
This is it.
2...
You didn’t think, only did what Jay told you. You cut through the yellow wire and stop the ticking destruction at the last second.
No sound is heard.
No man moves.
Only rigid breathing of your own manages to make its way inside your ears.
And then the boy starts to wail. His cries turn into what look like never ending sobs. You were glad he’s crying, and not in a bad way. The sound he started to make was a clear indicator of your survival. The bomb didn’t go off. You were safe. You never felt more alive.
Your friends swiped you in their arms immidiately. Every firefighter gave you a congratulation you never thought you would recieve. You just disabeled a bomb.
And it looked like you were the only one shocked.
Still shaking, your eyes searched for the man that helped you.
But Jay was already there, and by the time you turned around to search for him he had his fingertips around you. With a clean tug he pushed you against his chest and hugged you. His breathing was just as harsh as your own, but inside - he never felt prouder.
“You had my back,” you mumbled. Jay pulled a moment later, his blue eyes gazing down at you before he laughed. Laughed. “You were amazing baby.”
“You really think so?”
“I do. Now let’s get you out of here.” He smiled, slipping his hand into yours and pulling you towards the exit. You were cheered after of course, it made your heart swell with pride.
On your way outside you saw the bomb squad, standing in lines next to their equipment. “Nice work guys.” Jay said sarcastically.
The two of you made your way to the shaky boy to make sure he was alright. People were gathered outisde, now that the threat was removed. Each and every one of them had their eyes glazed with tears of relief.
Their homes were safe. Their families were too.
Boden gave you the rest of the day off, and Jay was the one to drive you home.
“Let’s hope our work doesn’t clash like that ever again.”
“I agree,” Jay said quietly and pressed his lips safely against yours.
MASTERLIST
###
Join Tapas to discover amazing stories and unlock episodes of unique comics and books. Use my invite code BARB048X for 200 Ink! tapas.io/app
I’m reading a book on Tapas and I don’t have enough ink to unlock episodes :(( I’ve already assigned all of my friends and family to take the code and now I need YOUR help! Pretty please?
...with a cherry on top?
Download the app and sign in. Once you see the option to give yourself a display name, under that you’ll see the option to enter in a code, and that’s where you enter BARB048X. Not only will you get 200 ink if you decide to continue reading, you’ll help out this charity that is ME.
THANK YOU.
#jay halstead#jay halstead imagine#jay halstead fanfiction#jay halstead x reader#Chicago PD#chicago pd imagine#chicago pd fanfiction#CHICAGO FIRE#chiacgo fire imagine#chicago fire fanfictio#reader oneshot
432 notes
·
View notes
Note
I know what you think of Irondad, but what do you think of Devildad?
Anon, you saw the Irondad ask and said ‘hold my beer.’
This is complicated.
The short of my relationship with Devildad (as in, Matt acting as Peter Parker’s father figure) is that it has always been ‘oof that makes me uncomfortable’ but now it has become ‘no thank you.’
Let me explain.
I am more okay with Devildad than Irondad because Peter’s father figure should be someone from a working-class background with similar values as him.
But I am not okay with Devildad for many of the same reasons that I don’t like Irondad
1. The misogyny.
Devildad still assumes that Aunt May isn’t in the picture a lot of the time. Devildad is often still used to remove May from the picture the same way Irondad is.
And I am just not down with that. I felt so gross writing rain city with a dead May and that is literally an ‘everything that can go wrong, does go wrong’ kind of universe.
2. Devildad still infantilizes Peter.
Devildad still treats Peter like he’s 5 years old instead of 15+. Changing the shape of the father figure does not change that fact that people don’t want Peter to be anything more than an innocent child caught up in other people’s problems.
Like, no. No. Peter is a little shit--a busybody who inserts himself into other people’s problems often to both their and his detriment. His gall and tendency to take responsibility for problems that aren’t his are important to his characterization.
Also for people who insist on writing Peter as this weirdly innocent blob of tragedy: go talk to a 15 year old and re-evaluate your writing. Think about how you’re characterizing children and think about whether you’re viewing children as props for your own gratification or as people in their own right with their own interests and needs.
3. Matt isn’t interested in that kind of relationship.
Matt doesn’t want to be Peter’s dad. Matt is allergic to commitment. Matt is allergic to accepting the consequences of his actions (including children resulting from them).
I just don’t see Matt as a father figure.
Matt can be a mentor. Matt can be an uncle, a big brother, a comrade in arms--he can be so much MORE than just a dad.
Why the fuck are we so determined to turn every character into a parent?? What is with the obsession with making nuclear families?? What has Matt ever done to suggest that he wants a family?
Y’all. Please. I’m begging you. Stop trying to fit people who don’t and don’t want to fit the socially defined roles of ‘parent’ into those boxes. If you want to write a compelling ‘Matt is Peter’s Dad’ fic, then it should probably be in a situation that both Matt and Peter fucked up so badly that they got stuck together and are now trying (with great difficulty) to make it work.
4. Sam Chung exists.
So the biggest reason I don’t like Devildad is because Devildad already exists in DD comics through Samuel Chung.
The nail in the Devildad coffin for me was when I learned about Sam, anon. And that’s because Sam, as a young, disabled, undocumented Chinese wannabe vigilante, highlights so many places where Matt, as a disabled white man, has privilege and a responsibility to use it to help others.
And despite him having that privilege, Matt can’t fix the root of Sam’s problems. That changes the dynamics between them and makes shit interesting. What else is interesting about this relationship, as opposed to Devildad is:
A) Sam is older and not so weirdly coerced/forced into accepting Matt as a father figure.
B) Sam wants to be like Matt so badly that he actually becomes more and more like Matt (loses his vision, works in law office, does stupid reckless shit) much to his detriment.
C) Matt actually has to live with the guilt that he has caused this kid immense suffering by taking him on as a mentee.
It’s ugly. It’s so difficult. There is no bandage that’s going to heal a wound this deep. And that’s what makes it compelling. It feels way more real and more cohesive with Matt’s and Sam’s character arcs than a Devildad arc.
It has depth where Devildad, 90% of the time, is just an excuse to get May out of the picture, yet again, or to fit Peter and Matt into these stereotypical archetypes of ‘parent’ and ‘child.’
So yeah. I’m not about it, anon.
#fic#salt mines#I just don't understand why people are so desperate to do this#I think people have misunderstood 'found family' to be smth that has to resemble a nuclear family#y'all#the POINT of found family is that it doesn't look the same as nuclear family#Jesus
70 notes
·
View notes
Note
sending our boys josh nd toby back at u pls ! also sam if u would like to
Okay so uh these got long! Because of that I'm going to split the characters up into different posts--naturally I started with Josh because of course I did.
There are references to self harm so please be aware!
The first year at Harvard is Hard for Josh. Like he’s not in danger of like failing out or anything but one of his poli sci professors does take him aside after a month in and tells him he needs to pull it together. The professor is like “this is the big leagues kid and the connections and impressions here matter almost more than your actual grades” and the talk makes Josh so anxious. School has never been easy for him because of his dyslexia—he’s always had to try harder than most to get the same amount of work done. Josh has always been self-conscious about his learning disability and to this day only his mom, Donna, Toby, Sam, and Abbey know because he’s too embarrassed to tell anyone else or ask for help. But anyways, back to the Harvard idea after that talk Josh throws himself into school with such a one-track mind and signs up for as many study groups as he can. He’s really fucking proud of the fact that he made the Dean’s List all but one semester (and he will never talk to anyone about That Semester).
Josh is gay. He dates a lot of women growing up because that’s what he thought he was supposed to be doing but he always stared at certain men for a few beats longer than what could be deemed like *okay* but he doesn’t come out until midway through the Bartlet presidency. The first person in DC he told was Matt Skinner who just smirked at Josh like he always knew, and he promises to keep his secret until he’d ready to like to come out for real. Matt was so helpful in helping Josh navigate the whole coming out process and Josh is incredibly grateful to have him in his corner. The first person he truly tells is his mom when she visits one holiday and Ruth is a trooper just telling him that he’ll always be *her son* and nothing can ever change that. Josh is so relieved at how well his mom takes the whole thing because part of the reason he stayed in the closet for so long is because he worried his mom would be disappointed and he was a bit short of family members so he felt like he couldn’t take that chance? But telling her and being instantly accepted makes Josh cry.
Josh has a history of self-harm. He usually leaves marks in places most people won’t be able to see—like his hip bones and upper legs for example—and only when he was younger did, he cut around his wrists and more visible places. Leo found out when Josh was at Harvard and Ruth and Noah called him asking if he could look in on Josh because he wasn’t returning their calls. Leo never in a million years thought he’d walk in on Josh *like that* he figured Josh was just frazzled with end of semester things which was why he wasn’t getting back to his parents. Leo will take to his grave the image of Josh with a knife in one hand and red crimson dripping down his leg—Josh makes Leo swear he won’t tell his parents and tells him he only does this when it just gets too loud in his head. Leo makes Josh swear back that he’ll call when things get that bad again and Josh true to his word does and no matter what time it is Leo will pick up the phone and drone on to Josh about what stupid things Democrats are doing on the hill. No one else from senior staff know about the self-harm until Rosslyn—they all see the scars while Josh is in the hospital. Josh is self-conscious about the ones on his wrist so much that the minute he can stand it he asks Toby to help him into a long-sleeved shirt because he just can’t take the staring anymore.
Okay so this is a HC based on my Gaza AU arc that I SWEAR I will finish and post. Ya know one day. As a result of the explosion Josh loses partial mobility in one of his legs so he has to use a cane. Like the day his physical therapists told Josh he was devastated, and he locked himself in his room and wouldn’t even come out for Toby because like it’s a lot to get used to? He never expected to not 100% recover—even after Rosslyn he recovered with minimal physical setbacks so he just assumed this would be the same with just more work? Josh glares at the cane for a week straight whenever he’s reminded that he *needs* to use it. Toby gives Josh a week to mope and get his head around this new reality before he sits him down and tells him he needs to get over himself, tells him the cane doesn’t make his any less of anything, and that Toby didn’t wait through 2 surgeries that lasted 14+ hours only for Josh to resent living even if his life wasn’t the same as it was before. The day Josh steps back into the White House cane and all Josh is nervous—he hates the idea of walking into the white house so visibly off kilter, but Abbey greets him at the gate and welcomes him as if she was her son and brings him to see Jed first thing and Jed jokes that they should get matching canes and Josh laughs. He never 100% accepts needing to use the cane but his outlook on it drastically improves the longer he uses it and sees that people don’t treat him any differently.
Josh likes to wear dresses and skirts! I don’t make the rules the boy just DOES okay. He usually only wears them inside his apartment and he’s more likely to wear them when he’s stressed—he loves the different fabrics and styles and how they feel against his skin. It just feels nice and when Donna and CJ find out they always make it a point to pick up stuff that they think Josh will like when they are out shopping together. The first Monday Josh finds a box of clothes in his office and he opens it up to see what it is he *melts* because he realizes how lucky he is to have these people in his life. These people who accept him unconditionally. The first time Toby sees Josh is a short skirt he feels like he could faint—in a good way he rushes to tell Josh.
#the west wing#josh lyman#toby ziegler#leo mcgarry#cj cregg#donna moss#shannon writes#callixton#tw: self harm
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
routine and soft eyes
Author: @hazblogs
For: @beyondplusultra
Pairings/Characters: nearmellomatt, mention of lawlight
Rating/Warnings: T, mentions of Mello’s scar
Prompt: Wammy House kids sleepover (A, B, L can be included, can be AU)
Author’s notes: I had so much fun with this !!! soft bois…. thank you to anyone who reads it !!
Mello is positively fuming. Someone (who shall not be named, though if you want to know it starts with “N” and ends with “-ate River”) just got on top of Forensic Science and Investigative Skills and History of Crime and the Justice System. Those are Mello’s topics. They’re the best at these and they always have been (in the two years they’ve studied here. But that’s long enough, right ?), so the fact that Mister Nobody just came in and stole their turf… That’s infuriating. To top it all off, the dean did them dirty and assigned someone to the second bed in their room, knowing full well that they need that second bed for Matt. This week is just a pile of flaming shit.
As they swing the door open they are greeted by the beeping sounds usually coming from Matt’s bed, a comforting electronic melody. Matt doesn’t even turn around to raise his middle finger to protest against how loud Mello is, but that’s also common practice around here, so no worries.
“Heard you got your ass beat,” Matt says a while later, Mello’s hand carding through his strawberry-green hair. “By the newbie no less. How’re you taking it ?”
“Matt, my hand is dangerously close to your eyes and you need those to play on that stupid console. Better not risk it.”
“Like you’d ever hurt me,” Matt grumbles, and the certainty with which he speaks makes their heart pulse just a little faster. Mello is hopelessly in love, aren’t they ?
The rest of the evening is quiet save for that same musical background, a welcome white noise as Mello finishes their essay for Writing Comedy. The teacher seems to have some trouble with their rather macabre humour so they try to tone it down for once - rather unsuccessfully.
“Also heard you’ll have a roommate,” Matt continues a few hours later as they prepare for bed - gotta put some moisturiser on that scar like a damsel doing her skincare routine, the doctor said, “or you’ll experience how actually painful it can be”. Talk about being threatening…
“I heard. I can kick them out.” Mello would do it. Without remorse, even.
“I can sleep in your bed too,” Matt offers. “But only if you promise not to kick me out from under the covers every single night.”
“Okay, first of all, fuck off, and secondly, why the hell would I want someone else to room with me ? You’re already here. You’ve always been here.”
“And I always will be, Mels. Just… I think it’s time you get out of your shell a little bit, you know ? You can’t keep pretending that talking to me twice every day and ignoring Linda a couple times a week is enough friendly interaction for the little pea inside your coconut.” Mello turns away from the mirror, moisturiser in hand, and sends a glare to Matt who sighs and raises his hands in defeat. “Don’t say I didn’t try ! Think about it, okay, Mello ?”
They do think about it. The whole night. They don’t sleep - it’s not because Matt snores but that’s the excuse they’ll use. Ever since the accident and the scar, people have usually been too impressed - or scared - by them to even consider starting a casual conversation. Matt was there even before, and he probably always will be, Linda is a weirdo who wants to draw them with a ponytail, and… Well, that’s it. Mello lives for schoolwork, to be the best and hope to right some of the wrongs in this world.
“Yo, Mihael,” the dean says when he sees them in front of his office the following morning. Lawliet is a TA at their university, still haunting the dorms. He has a creepy smile under his stupid raccoon eyes and he keeps using Mello’s birthname, like it makes any more sense to call them with that than to call them “xXx_sexy_blondie_xXx”, or however you pronounce that out loud.
“Lawliet. I saw you assigned me a roommate.”
“I did,” he smiles still, like there’s a joke Mello doesn’t get.
“Why ?” Mello would actually like to know - Lawliet never does anything at random.
“You’ll see when he arrives later today,” is the cryptic answer, and Mello sneers at their stupid fucking dean as they leave for their 8am lecture.
Because yes, multiple things are out to get their skin - though they won’t be deterred.
The day goes by in a flash, Screenwriting and Poetry being two of their most interesting classes, and by the time they’ve finished their Crime Prevision and Prevention homework at the library, the sun is well on its way down. Mello walks slowly to the dorms, enjoying the warm air - it’s still only September and winter hasn’t come yet. The music blasting from their headphones is a perfect background to the chill atmosphere, a few bird silhouettes dark against the wonderfully peach clouds. In a few minutes they’ll kiss Matt and they’ll eat a bite, and they’ll sleep knowing they’re safe now.
When they arrive in front of their room, a few cardboard boxes occupy the entrance. Shit fuck hell, they’d forgotten the roommate arrived today. All they can see from where they’re blocked from entering is a white blob of hair on top of baggy clothes, perched on the desk and looking at whatever Matt is playing.
“Uh, I’m supposed to be able to enter my own room,” Mello kind of yells. Only kind of. “Would you please not be a giant stupid bother before I even get your name ?”
“Sorry,” the snowball says, not looking sorry at all. “I’m Nate River.”
“But you can call him Near ! He plays retro games, which isn’t… let’s say it’s not my strong point, but I’m sure it’ll go well, we’re three whole weirdos with weirdo nicknames !”
Mello blinks. Near is still here. They blink again. Near is still here, looking a little like a frog with his lopsided smile, a hand playing with one of his curls. Mello blinks a third time and doesn’t expect Near to have packed his things and go, but that was a close call.
“Are you fucking kidding me,” they mutter. “Lawliet is gonna get killed.”
“You actually know enough about criminology to not be caught, so go you.” Near is smirking. Mello wants to cry. “But I would advise against it, because he’s dating that twink Light Yagami, the alumni who came last week to give the presentation about the War on Drugs and its consequences. He’s a police lieutenant now.”
“Called it !” Matt raises a fist in victory, taking five years from Mello’s lifespan. “Anyway, now that you’re here, please do help us with the last boxes. We’ve been setting up Near’s compy and it’s revoltingly difficult.”
“I will not- how can you ask me to- I’m gonna commit arson and this time I promise I’ll succeed !”
“Dramatic bitch,” Matt says jovially. “Just come in and drop your stuff, apparently someone from the ADA thing comes tomorrow to make sure the room is accessible with a crutch and to help Near settle in.”
Mello just now notices that Near isn’t fully standing up - he’s propped on the desk, a mechanical knee peeking through the bottom of his shorts. This changes nothing - though Mello feels the both grim and hopeful sense of community that disabled people get when they meet. Their ear still works wonky and their eye ? Not the sharpest either. Without talking about all the skin damage, the phantom pain, the- hell no, they won’t get into “reflective mode” without having eaten dinner first.
Reluctantly, Mello spends the rest of the evening avoiding Near as Matt and them help him settle in, surprised by the small amount of belongings he actually has - most of the boxes he brought are board games and hundreds of little kapla sticks. Is Near planning to recreate the Golden Bridge ? He looks like a nerd, maybe it’ll be the Death Star.
Routines are a persistent thing, and before they know it, Near has managed to get a small space - small, they insist - in Mello’s well-oiled machinery. He eats breakfast with Matt, a meal that Mello forgoes entirely, and he goes on unfortunate walks to his PT appointments, because he’s out of money from whatever government organism gives benefits to disabled people and can’t afford a cab. Mello thinks they should get into it a little more, maybe call their case worker, because ramen tastes worse and worse when you have it for every meal of the week. And then Near and Matt start talking about something or another, especially topics that annoy Mello, or Near gets a little too close to them while they both work on their assignments at their desk, his elbow barely brushing Mello’s side. It makes them shiver, but they will ignore that, thank you very much.
Another routine - bedtime - has gotten a little different. One single bed is enough for “one person and a half”, according to Matt, so the obvious solution to them being three in a two single beds room is to push the beds together.
“And now you have a perfect three people beddery !” Matt triumphantly declared. “Mello, you sleep in the middle.”
“Why am I in the middle ?” they protested. “It’s the least comfortable !”
“Oh well, we can take turns,” Near had snarked, knowing full well that the first one of them to sleep in the middle would have to accept defeat.
Mello does end up in the middle, Matt cuddled against their left side where the burn is, and Near an ever-closer presence against their right arm. It’s not as uncomfortable as they expected. Near doesn’t snore and he smells like minty toothpaste, a strangely comforting scent that lulls Mello to sleep way more easily than the five thousand melatonin pills they take before going to bed.
Oh well, maybe Lawliet can live a little longer. His boyfriend - Matt saw them kissing through the peephole, it’s official now - won’t have any (more) reasons to put Mello behind bars.
Near gets on top of International Law and keeps wearing strangely baggy clothes everywhere - or well, everywhere but in the dorms. Mello has time to get used to that mechanical knee, even asking a few questions about phantom pains on the days Matt is away and the itching gets unmanageable. Near is quiet like snow but they’re nothing alike in warmth, grey eyes like molten metal setting on Mello’s face and crinkling in a smile.
And it works wonders. One time they get a bad mark (for their standards) and they even study with Near for extra credit, a presentation about the death penalty that lasts about three quarters of the two hours class. The teacher gives them both full marks and Matt celebrates by crushing them both against his chest, the smell of motor oil and mint so comforting that Mello closes his eyes, just for a little while.
It’s winter before they have time to think about it, and finals go by in a blur of “no sleep, no food, no distractions”. They even manage to end up at the nurse’s office when they faint during the Criminology Theory exam, forced to drink sugar water until the world stops exploding in a million tiny stars when they move their head.
Mello thinks that surviving their last winter exam session ever - they should be able to find a job with a double Master’s degree in Criminology and Creative writing, right ? - deserves a celebratory nap and they sprawl on the bed as soon as they’re back from the last stupid oral presentation they have to do about stupid Foundations of Criminal Justice. Near is not in the room - which is weird, because he finished five minutes and thirty six seconds before them - and Matt is away for the day to try and get his internship at the garage, so they have the full three-person bed, and they fully intend to enjoy the luxury.
They enjoy it so much that they fall asleep, only noticing that time has passed because before they blinked, it was day, and it is now very much nighttime. Light giggles fill the room along with the muted light from Near’s bedside lamp, and Mello takes the time to relish in the quiet atmosphere. Hushed conversation rises from near the desk, giggles and the smell of hot chocolate both making Mello sit up at last.
“Lookit you ! Sleeping beauty arises. Though I haven’t kissed you yet,” Matt smiles, and he climbs on the bed to press his lips against Mello’s. “Love you,” he whispers as he pulls away and goes back to slump on Near’s shoulder.
At first, Near felt like an intruder each time Matt kissed them, but he’s become so embedded in their life that Mello doesn’t feel any awkwardness anymore - to the point where not including him has become the cause of their inner turmoil.
Because yeah, uh, there’s that. Near in a tank top and booty shorts, prosthetic being painted on by a very enthusiastic Matt, has become the new image they conjure up each time the need to strangle someone arises. And poof, instant peace. Discreet touches, Near sleeping fully cuddled against their right side now, Matt nosing through Near’s hair just after he’s washed it because his strawberry shampoo smells divine, Mello even going as far as ruffling Near’s hair without warning, just to see his little nose scrunch up… All that has become routine too, and suddenly the change is too big to go by unmentioned.
They’ve managed to hold on to their feelings until then but as Matt starts talking again, Near’s smile is a little too tight - though his eyes sparkle, it’s like… something’s missing.
“Emergency mee-ee-ting,” they yawn, the skin around their left eye crinkling up painfully. Near notices and doesn’t even ask before grabbing the petroleum jelly tube and throwing it rather inaccurately at their face. See, that’s what they were talking about, Near has just become… there, in the way Matt is there even when he’s asleep in another part of the universe where Mello can only hope to ever go to. “We gotta talk shit out.”
“Are you over your gay crisis yet ?” Matt asks, eyes calm and open, sipping hot chocolate with noisy slurps that Mello doesn’t bother mentioning anymore. His green hair looks more and more red as time passes, which is a strange feat of hair dye conspiracy. “Can we go back to playing ?”
“I haven’t even talked !” Mello protests. “I just really think it’s necessary to mention that…”
They don’t know how to continue that sentence. Near is looking at them with something strangely akin to hope, and Matt still has that infuriating openness about him like he just knows Mello so well he doesn’t need to be told what they feel.
Near doesn’t, though, and he matters enough to Mello now for them to want to include him in the little bubble as well.
“I just think it’d be cool if we shared the secret chocolate stash with Near,” is what comes out of their mouth.
Well done caporal, please die of shame now.
“Mels, wow, that’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said !” Matt’s voice drips with amusement - devoid of any mean spirit, they should add, because Matt is the one thing Mello knows is good in this world. And well, maybe there’s a second one they’ve stumbled on, and they want Near to know that he means a lot to them too.
“I mean it !” Mello whines. “He’s one of us now. I think we can share.”
“Mello. Please realise that I’ve been flirting with you this entire time,” comes Near’s deadpan answer. “The time I told you I wanted to braid your hair ? The time I made you sleep and finished the presentation alone because you’d gotten the flu and I hate being sneezed on ? The fact that Matt literally sits in my lap half the time, and only half because the other is spent on your lap ?”
“Okay, first of all, fuck off with me getting the flu.”
“You’re avoiding my question.” Near looks stubborn, and it’s a good look on him.
When did Mello start to think Near looks good ? “I, uh. I may be slightly romantically obtuse. Has Matt told you the time when-”
“-he kissed you and you thought he wanted to practice smooches for his secret best friend, because of course you wouldn’t be his best friend ?”
Utterly mortified, Mello can feel their cheeks become bright red. “Well, uh. Enough mushiness for tonight. Just pass me the chocolate, Matt, I’m starving.”
Matt giggles and throws a Kinder Egg at their face. Near munches on the leftover shell while Mello assembles the toy, and it’s peaceful - and happy, too, so when Mello raises a hand to their scar they smile still, in spite of their involuntary shiver.
#fanfiction#death note#submission#nearlymellodramattic#nearmattmello#lawlight mention#near#matt#mello#hazblogs#beyondplusultra#Mello's Birthday Mayhem 2020
38 notes
·
View notes
Text
Who becomes a special education teacher?
There is no singular answer to this question. When I volunteered at a school for autistic and otherwise disabled students, each teacher and aide was different. When I volunteered at an ARC adult daycare center, the staff were equally varied in their treatment of the individuals there. But there were some common threads I noticed across both locations, regardless of how different they were on the surface. And there were common threads that tied the teachers & staff together, too.
For the purposes of this post, I will be discussing my observations about the school, not the ARC adult daycare center. Also, before you continue reading, you should know that this essay will discuss suicidal ideation and sexual actions. Now, let’s continue:
Something very interesting I noticed was that the only white man I ever interacted with was the principal of the school. I’m sure there were a few white male teachers, but I never met any. The people who were with me in the aftercare classroom were all women and/or POC. This demographic data didn’t match my own school, which was only 10 minutes away. My own school had extremely few teachers of color, and had a decent amount of white male teachers. But looking back, I recall that the many of the one-on-one aides for the special education students at my school were people of color.
I’m pointing these things out because usually, jobs that women and/or POC do are systemically undervalued in society. Teaching is still seen as “women’s work,” because it’s associated with caretaking. The association with caretaking gets less intense as kids get older, which is why there are a heck of a lot more male secondary school teachers than there are male elementary school teachers. According to the National Center for Education Statistics (in the US), only 11% of elementary school teachers are male, whereas 36% of secondary school teachers are.
When you look at the stats on special education teachers as a whole, 86.3% are female (meaning that 13.7% are male). Despite being significantly outnumbered, the average salary for a male special education teacher is $53,855, which is $8,393 more than the average female salary of $45,462.
Then, looking at the statistics for one-on-one aides, things get even more stark. Almost 89% of paraprofessionals are female, and the average female classroom aide makes only $19,927 per year, compared to male classroom aides who make $26,453 per year. Referring to the previous paragraph, notice the significant gap between what the teachers are paid, versus what the aides are paid. There are also many more POC aides than POC special education teachers. Only 16.8% of special education teachers are POC, whereas 24.3% of aides are POC. (I did those calculations based on US census bureau data)
Okay, so we’ve discussed the demographics, the pay gaps, and the racial disparities. Keep in mind that the vast majority of people in these jobs are also neurotypical, and that all of the teachers and aides where I volunteered were neurotypical as well. Now, I’m going to discuss the pervasive ableism and problematic attitudes that existed at the school, keeping in mind all of the sociological factors that have contributed to these people feeling that they are not valued in society for the work that they do.
The culture of the school I worked at was what one might expect. The teachers mostly cared about the students, and were pleasant to talk to. But there were some things I noticed that weren’t particularly pleasant or enjoyable:
Most of the time, the teachers and aides talked about the students in the 3rd person, as if they weren’t in the room. Even if the students in question could speak clearly, they were still treated as though they could not contribute any meaningful input to a conversation. The problem was even worse for students who couldn’t speak. They were all referred to in the 3rd person, discussed by staff, and speculated about without any regard for the fact that they probably understood everything that was being said about them. I tried my very best not to engage in this behavior when spoken to (teachers would try to involve me in their conversations about the students), but in order to mask and protect my position as a volunteer, I couldn’t speak up about the issue or do anything to stop it.
Many of the teachers obviously didn’t want to be there, and didn’t like their jobs. There was one teacher in particular, I don’t remember her name, who would even “joke” about committing suicide right after a student did something mildly disruptive. She would vocally express (right in front of the students!) how much she hated her job, hated herself, and hated her life. She was at least 50 years old, and often turned to me (I was only 17 at the time) to vent and rant in distress about how awful everything was and how much she wished for retirement. This was incredibly uncomfortable to me, and probably very damaging to the students, but it was also something I couldn’t really do anything about given my unofficial status at the school.
Students were not given any intellectually stimulating activities to do in the after school program. This was a particular problem for one autistic student named Matt, who I could tell was bored out of his mind. To quell his boredom, he peeled the paper label off of crayons, peeled the name stickers off of other students’ desks, ripped up pieces of construction paper, stole food from the snack bin and shoveled it into his mouth when the teachers weren’t paying close attention, and masturbated in the middle of the classroom. That last part is something nobody had prepared me for when I started volunteering there. In fact, it seems to be something nobody in the special education world talks about at all. The only other person I’ve talked to about it until now is Laurel. And yes, it caught me off guard. But I very easily understood why all of this was happening- Matt was seeking intense sensory input to replace his boredom.
Sometimes his aide gave him picture books to read out loud, which he did. But when he was finished and said “Done!” his aide just told him to read it again. The only times I had seen him truly happy and engaged were the times that he was allowed to play the keyboard. Matt was an amazingly talented musical artist. I was shocked when I first heard him play- not because he’s autistic, but because the composition he was creating was worthy of being played in Carnegie Hall. During the days he had access to the keyboard, his sensory seeking and anxious behaviors significantly decreased. He sang along to the tune of the songs he created (they were extremely catchy), and chewed on a red chewy that was clipped to his shirt. He didn’t bite his hands, rip up his gloves, or ask to “go to the bathroom.”
Yet, he usually wasn’t allowed to use the keyboard. The reason I overheard was that the music teacher was afraid he would break it. And yes, he did have a history of throwing things during meltdowns, which I witnessed. So it was possible that he might try to throw the keyboard, too. But what nobody except me seemed to understand was that his meltdowns only happened on the days when he wasn’t given access to the keyboard. He was calmest when playing it.
These were the ways that each student was failed. They were treated as less than human, as non-thinking and non-understanding. Teachers spoke openly, in front of the students, about how much they hated their jobs. The knowledge and skills of students were severely underestimated. Students like Matt were not provided with real books, real intellectual challenges, or the ability to fully express themselves creatively.
And quite honestly, not all of that was purely a function of ableism. It was also a function of the socioeconomic status of the teachers, and the ways they were unappreciated, undervalued, and underserved by society at large. When these teachers and aides aren’t given proper tools and resources to understand and assist autistic people, they will inevitably fail. When classrooms don’t have enough books, when teachers have to buy their own art supplies, and when there’s only one keyboard in the entire school, the students aren’t going to get their needs met. When the school is understaffed, people are working overtime to pay for their mortgage, and teachers have to stop meltdowns during their lunch breaks, they’re bound to have negative attitudes about their jobs and lives in general.
The solution to this problem is two-fold: start funding the important work of educating and caring for disabled people, and start creating seminars and workshops for these teachers to learn about disability from the perspective of disabled self-advocates, so that they will be best equipped to serve their students’ needs.
I hope that dream becomes a reality someday.
~Eden🐢
#actually autistic#autism#autistic#aba therapy#ableism#autismacceptance#special education#special education teacher
73 notes
·
View notes
Text
Choose Life; Part Two
Bucky Barnes x Daughter!Reader
Bucky Barnes Masterlist
[Part one]
Warnings; A shit ton of angst, swearing, shooting, angst, injuries, yelling, angst, no happy ending, replacement, abandonment, did I say angst? Bucky being a bit of a dick and a shitty dad, abuse? Child neglect?
A/N; There’s like a full blown reference to ‘Trainspotting’ in this, 10 points to anyone who finds it.
Word count; 2.7k
--
You had barely survived. If they had found you minutes later, you would be dead. The serum in your blood had kept you going for a few more hours than it would any other person, lucky you. For the first week, you were confined to your bed with all of the IV drips and other injections you were given. Bucky had visited you, trying to make conversation, which you had no intent whatsoever on joining in on. He said it himself, he wished they had left you in HYDRA, so that meant that he never wanted you. Your plan was that as soon as you could, you would get out of the compound and disappear from the grid all over again. But your plan was ruined when Bucky said they had installed brand new cameras so they could always keep an eye on you if no one was there when they were gone on missions. That pissed you off, you didn't need or want this. You didn't want or need any of this.
-
"Alright, we need to have this talk now. Otherwise, we'll spend the rest of our lives hating each other, and I don't want that," Bucky said. You were sitting in the common room, reading, surprisingly.
"We don't need to have any talk. You said everything you wanted when you told me how you really felt," You stood up from your spot on the couch and walked away, but Bucky grabbed your wrist gently. "If you wanna keep that hand, let me go," You warned him.
"Y/N, please, just sit the fuck down," Bucky begged. You shook your head and sat down. "Thank you,"
"So, what part do you want to talk about first? The part about you sending me back or the wishing you never found me part?" You asked him. Bucky sighed as he sat down on the couch in front of you.
"Neither of those. If we're gonna fix this relationship, we have to start all the way back at what you went through," He said. You scoffed and laughed.
"There is no 'relationship' between us to fix. You had your chance at that years ago," You told him. "And anyway, I know why you're doing this,"
"Because I care about you?" You sensed the weariness in his voice and you nodded.
"For someone with a skill set as big as yours, I wouldn't be surprised if lying wasn't in there. You're not doing this because you care, you're doing this because you're guilty," Bucky knew that you were right. He was guilty, so fucking guilty. He was guilty of choosing to be an Avenger over being there for his daughter, who had to figure out a new and scary life all by herself. He was guilty of not sitting down and addressing whatever issues you had, and not helping you with them. He was guilty, and he knew it. "And guess what, there's nothing you can say or do to change what happened,"
"But we move forward," Bucky said.
"Move fucking forward!?" You yelled. You shook in anger and tried to ignore the sting of tears in your eyes. "I can't move forward! I don't know whatever hallucinogenic drugs you're on, but you sure as hell better get off of them! How can we move forward after everything? Everything that has gone wrong with me has gone wrong because of you," You pointed at him angrily. "I asked you to talk about things with me, I tried to ask for help, but you didn't fucking care!"
"I did care!" He defended himself. You scoffed and laughed.
"You cared? If you cared, you would've asked me what was going on! You would have done what any dad would've done and talked through it, you would have gotten me help! I used to look at Peter Parker and Tony and I would be so, so fucking jealous!" You cried. You didn't even care that he could see that you were crying now.
"Why? Why were you jealous of them?" Bucky asked you carelessly. When you saw how Peter and Tony interacted, it made your heart hurt. You were in no way maliciously jealous, no, not like that. It was what you wanted from your dad, your dad that didn't give a damn about you. Peter and Tony spent more time with each other in a month than your dad ever did with you in 6 months. "I tried my hardest, Y/N. But effort goes both ways, kid!"
"I wanted a dad like that!" You yelled. "I wanted a dad that told me he was proud of me. I wanted a dad that talked to me other than the times he would tell me how much of a fuck up I was," You said.
"I never called you a fuck up, Y/N. It's called discipline," He said. You huffed out tiredly, you felt so defeated.
"You might be father, but you'll never be my dad," You said sadly. "You never were my dad anyway, you took a look at me and knew I was a lost cause. You clearly wasted your time, just choose a HYDRA base and then drop me off there," You finished.
"Y/N, please. We have to have some form of hope we can fix us," Bucky had noticed your change in attitude, your anger had disappeared and you were tired, tired of fighting.
"Hope? I ran out of hope when I was tied to that chair, and I prayed to God that you would come and save me, but you didn't. And I can't believe that it took me nearly dying for you to think to step up and finally be a dad," You stood up and left the room, leaving Bucky feeling like someone had ripped his heart out of his chest and stomped all over it. He had lost you, and it was his fault.
--
Your second month at the Avengers compound had flown in, you were happy to be there and away from HYDRA. But, as with anyone who came from a HYDRA background, a past with HYDRA didn't come without the nightmares. They were the worst, most times you couldn't escape them, the fear would paralyze you and leave you screaming for help in your head where no one could hear you. On the off chance, you would wake up, you went to your dad, Bucky. But at some point, it felt like he didn't care anymore. The first month, he tried to get to know you, but you weren't for opening up to anyone yet, you didn't know if you could trust these people yet. By the time your second month came around and you felt ready to open up to him, he had apparently moved on from you and didn't care for you. So you were left to adjust, all by yourself. The other members of the Avengers were convinced that Bucky was helping you, so they gave you the bare minimum. You were sat in the kitchen area of the compound, a glass of water in front of you. You heard screaming from down the hall and you turned around curiously. Within the blink of an eye, Steve and your dad came into view and both walked right past you, and went around a routine as if you weren't there.
"Dad?" You said quietly. Bucky looked up at you and flinched back, obviously startled by you being there. "Are you okay?" He ignored you and went to sit on the couch. Your heart felt like it was being pulled on. Steve looked up at you and frowned, he noticed how shaken up you looked.
"You alright kid?" He asked you. You thought about telling him, but he didn't get up at 2 in the morning to hear about your problems, so you shook your head. "You should get back to sleep, it's late,"
"I'm not tired," You grumbled. Steve sighed and put his hand on your back.
"I know, Y/N. But you're supposed to stay in your room unless it's necessary, we don't need you wandering into the pool or something and drowning," You nodded and stood up, going to your room and leaving Steve and Bucky on their own. But they weren't on their own. You on the other hand, were.
-
You were gone. The team came back from a mission one day and found that the cameras had been disabled and you weren't anywhere to be seen. It was as if you vanished off the face of the earth, no one had a clue where you were. Bucky couldn't help the paralyzing fear that took a grip on him, as much as you wanted to deny it, he was still your dad and he had the paternal instinct that he wouldn't be seeing you for a while, and long, long while. That was 5 years ago. Bucky's hope, much like yours, had gone. He had long accepted the fact that you were probably dead, but it didn't mean he was okay with it, far from it. The team learned of what had gone down with both of you and were less than happy with Bucky, especially Natasha and Wanda, who had been the ones to try and fix you and Bucky. Bucky understood why you left, it was him that drove you away, he had no one else to blame other than himself. No one ever saw you or found any trace of you.
-
"You're sure about this?" Matt asked you. Matt was your boyfriend, you met him when you were taken into the police station, only this time you had to make a run for it because your dad wasn't listed anymore. He was in the station for Grand Theft Auto, and then arson. The two of you connected and then you helped each other get out of the station. You had been with him for years, and they were the best years of your life.
"Yeah. The only person in the base should be Banner, but he's usually asleep at this point." You told him as you looked at the compound from afar. "Everyone else is gone," You confirmed. Matt nodded and then took your hand.
"Are you sure that this isn't about getting back at your dad?" He asked you. Matt knew everything, he was the only person who did. He also trusted you enough that he was willing to join the new branch of HYDRA, TAG, because you knew it would keep you both safe and covered, since every police station in New York had both of your faces and a price over your heads. You sighed and shook your head.
"I'm sure, Matty. Now, if we're ready, I'd rather we got this over with," You smiled softly and let go of his hand. For some reason, F.R.I.D.A.Y didn't rat you out when you got into the compound through the window of the room that used to be yours. You had guessed it had something to do with Bucky holding on to some sliver of hope that you would come home, but this wasn't you're home anymore, hell, it never was. You noticed that your room looked different, the walls were now a pale pink, rather than the light grey they used to be, all of your posters had been taken down and replaced with certificates and medals, making an uneasy feeling sit down in your stomach.
"Hey, what's wrong?" Matt asked you. You shook your head and focused. Your job was plain and simple, take out and Avenger to send a warning, and it was always going to be easier to do it if there was only one to take out. The bullet you had was made to kill Banner, TAG had been working on it since you and Matt approached them.
"Nothing. Come on, we should go and do this,"
"And this is my daughter, Poppy," You knew that voice, and for another thing, you knew that you didn't have a sister. They weren't all supposed to be here, not right now. But you thought you had gotten over this, but you were wrong, dead wrong. You knew you were easily replaceable, but you didn't think that your dad would replace you so quickly. "She's 15, I adopted her two years ago," You and Matt had snuck out of her room and stood behind the doorway of the common room.
"Wow, you're over Y/N quickly," Natasha piqued. Poppy frowned and sighed, making you smile. Maybe you didn't have to physically hurt the Avengers, you had to emotionally traumatize one. Bucky ignored her comment and put his arm around Poppy, making your heart tug.
"Anyway. She's enrolled in high school, and I'm so proud of her! She aced her AP Physics test with flying colours," You shook your head in anger. Matt tapped your shoulder and shook his head, telling you to stay calm, which he knew you wouldn't. Natasha smiled at Poppy as she left the room, she hadn't done anything wrong, she was just a clueless little kid who had no idea how much of a bad person her adoptive father really was.
"Dad, who's Y/N? People keep saying her name and I don't know who she is," Poppy complained. You bit your lip and smirked as you moved to stand in the doorway.
"You never told me I had a little sister," Bucky's face paled as he saw you standing, a firm look on your face and your arms crossed over your chest. "I'm Y/N. Your dad's real, kid," You told her. Poppy gulped as Bucky moved in front of her.
"Y/N? How-what-where the hell did you go?!" He asked. You smiled and laughed.
"I left, joined another terrorist organization since you wanted it so badly," You told him. Bucky was sure he was about to faint.
"TAG? You joined fucking TAG?!" He yelled. You nodded. "How could you?" He asked you incredulously. You scoffed and raised your eyebrows.
"How could I? No, how could you?! First, you replace me and second, you don't even tell her about her big sister? Wow, I mean, it still makes you a shitty dad, but she has you good, better than I ever did," You said.
"I changed, alright. After you-"
"After I what? Nearly died? So what was I? An experiment? Because the last time I checked, I was supposed to be your daughter, not an excuse to change," You had moved forward to stand in front of him.
"I tried," He said. You chuckled as you pulled your gun out of its holster and pulled it up to his forehead, not even making him flinch. Matty had moved from the doorway and was standing a few feet behind you. Poppy was sobbing as she watched the confrontation go down.
"Well clearly, you didn't try hard enough," You said lowly.
"If you're gonna hold a gun, Y/N, at least shoot someone," You smiled at his words and then pouted, nodding.
"Okay, I will," You assured him. You smiled as you moved the barrel of the gun from his head and behind him, you pulled the trigger and shot a bullet into Poppy's heart. Bucky slid to his knees as she fell to the floor in a heap, she was dead before she hit the floor. You smiled manically, and Bucky knew that any trace of the young girl you used to be was completely gone, and replaced by the woman who stood in front of him. A woman who had been completely ruined as a child, a woman who was traumatized. "I would say I'm sorry, but I'm really not," You said. You walked over to Matt, who put his lips on yours and put his arms around your waist. Bucky saw that you had dropped the gun you shot Poppy with, in his blind rage, he grabbed it and went to shoot you. You smiled and walked over to him, you looked down. "You gonna shoot me, daddy?" You asked him.
"Y/N," You kicked him in the chest and smiled as he fell back with a grunt. You put your foot on his chest, keeping him pinned to the floor.
"You know the saying, 'Choose Life'. Well you know what, fuck life. Why would I want to do a thing like that? I chose not to choose life, the reasons? There are no reasons, who needs reasons when you've got a dad that hates you and the ability to cause so much trauma, not even the best psychiatrist could save you?" You said. Bucky looked up at you, fear in his eyes, you took pride in that fear. "Well, have a good day, Bucky"
You walked out of the compound.
Permanent Taglist; open!-
@rushmannatalia@ellaorelizabeth@supermoonchildbroski @stat89posts@sadconfusedgirl@mycupoffanfictionreplies@thefaescottage @an-adventureland@rororo06 @xxaamzxx@joycesld@feminist-fan-girl@nixphomaniac @our-whitetulips-us@yungblud01@asonofpeter@coolest-avenger @stat89posts@supernaturallover2002 @jenniferroseee @thecenturyofmusic @roxybefab
#bucky#Bucky Barnes#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes daughter#bucky barnes x daughter!reader#bucky barnes x y/n#fan fiction#fanfiction#fanfic#marvel fanfiction#x daughter#x daughter reader#angst#marvel#MCU fanfiction
121 notes
·
View notes
Note
Greetings, this is Rene Astle. I have a question for you. What will it be like if Digimon Adventures 1 and 2, and Digimon: The Movie have a crossover with the animated Disney films and Toy Story? If so, the animated Disney villains for Digimon would've included Captain Hook from Peter Pan, Jafar from Aladdin, Emperor Zurg from Toy Story 2, Hades from Hercules, Ursula from The Little Mermaid, and Maleficent from Sleeping Beauty.
Greetings! Am I supposed to know who Rene Astle is? I’m bad with names
The second part of your request wasn’t exactly phrased like a question, so this is a reminder that I take requests, not demands :) but I do thank you for the suggestions to make this a little easier!
This is an interesting one, indeed!
Digimon Adventure Meets Disney/Pixar
Honestly, this might’ve taken the turn of “worlds collide” rather than your classic Disney Channel crossover episode in which the logic doesn’t really add up, but it’s our favorite characters meeting so who cares?
That might’ve been a vague Kingdom Hearts reference, but I haven’t played the games and read like 1 volume of some manga series, so I can’t actually tell xD
Naturally, the kids think at first that the villains in question are Digimon or something, like how else do you explain the weird Darth Vader-esque robot coming after them?
Then Izzy realizes that something happened and the Digital World and another dimension (or six, depending on what you think about the separation of the Disneyverse, or possible lack thereof) have collided
This takes a sort of Dark Masters arc turn, but the kids are prepared since this isn’t their first rodeo
They sort of try to split up to divide and conquer considering what the villains’ specialties are
Captain Hook and Ursula are the seafaring villains, so obviously they send Joe on that one. But they overheard Hook saying something about fairies, so Mimi came along for the ride, too. And Cody came with since he’s got Submarimon, which is helpful for reconnaissance.
Since you asked specifically for the movie and 01/02, Tri has not happened as of yet, so unfortunately, Rosemon and Vikemon do not make an appearance. BUT THAT’S FINE. I think.
Knowing Disney villains, Hook and Ursula probably don’t exactly get along, so they’re “separated”, but Flotsam and Jetsam are keeping an eye on Hook just in case.
So Ursula sees right away when Zudomon and Lillymon attack... but not much else, because Submarimon disabled her little spy system ;) [EXCELLENT WORK, CODY, WE LOVE YOU]
Ursula tries to come to her ally’s aid, only to see that, naturally, the pirates were not prepared for a giant viking turtle and his flower fairy companion, so they’re all knocked out. Joe’s trying to steer the ship, and I think we all know what happened when Prince Eric did that >w>
Team Seafarer hath succeeded in their goal.
Arguably, Jafar might be the smartest of all the villains in this crossover (I have NOT seen Maleficent, don’t get on my case, but YES, I do consider her quite genius as well, I mean---literally laid in wait for 16 years just to put a girl to sleep THAT’S DEDICATION) so Izzy, of course, has to go take care of that. Ken was a genius because of the Dark Spores, but... he’s smart, too. So he comes along. And T.K.’s a little shit, like Aladdin was, so naturally he insists on coming along. (Also because he’s a smooth talker.)
Part of the plan was letting themselves get captured.
T.K. smooth talked Jafar into believing he would join his side, and Jafar had heard from a restrained Gennai (poor Gennai didn’t deserve it) that T.K. had one of the hella powerful Crests, so who was he to doubt this boy?
He’s so easily wooed by promises of power.
Jafar greatly underestimated the power of Digivolving, so as soon as T.K. got Patamon up to MagnaAngemon, he was able to free Izzy and Ken. Jafar, of course, had the genie-ish powers and tried to magic himself away, but when you’ve got MegaKabuterimon and Stingmon around, you start to get squeamish of giant bugs.
Also, electricity-based powers used on a guy who hadn’t really encountered electricity before? Pretty powerful.
I’ve never seen T.K. so excited to give a fist bump to Ken.
3 down, 3 to go.
Hades had the terrifying fire thing going on (plus his amazing wit), and Maleficent had the fire-breathing dragon. So of course the fire kids were sent after them. Tai, Sora, and Davis had some interesting team potential, let me tell ya.
Davis is annoying. We all know this. But so is Tai. So basically, the Goggle Boys are sent in to annoy the two big bads. And since Hades has the shortest temper of all the villains involved in this crossover... well.
Then they sic MetalGreymon and Flamedramon on his ass, naturally. He’s not really able to hold back two fiery Digimon with just his own firepower, so... yeah. Ass kicked.
He starts regretting not bringing the Titans.
Maleficent tries to take off and escape in her dragon form, but she didn’t count on Sora and Garudamon to come after her. What a magnificent, phoenix-y plot twist.
Nobody ever expects the giant phoenix. So Sora and Garudamon kick some ass, too, as they should.
Tai and Davis both try to say a really witty line to wrap it all up, and Sora ends up saying the wittier one. As she should.
Theirs was somewhat the easiest fight, but also the most amusing.
That leaves Matt, Kari, and Yolei to deal with Emperor Zurg. And, well, this one gets a little confusing.
Well, first, for some reason Matt dresses up like Luke Skywalker.
Yeah, that’s right, they’re doing this.
Basically, they pull a Last Jedi on Zurg, but without Palpatine. Somehow, Zurg falls for it. But I mean, he’s basically a human-sized toy, so I guess that’s not a surprise?
There was no lightsaber battle, though, which was a bummer. Instead, Kari and Yolei send in Silphymon and Weregarurumon to kick his butt and finish the job.
Not gonna lie, he was the easiest one to take down, mostly by sheer virtue of being a toy. But also because he somehow fell for the Luke Skywalker bit.
Matt won’t get out of the outfit now, why did we give him this power.
With Gennai’s help and Izzy/Ken/Yolei’s genius techno capabilities, they were able to send the villains back to their respective movies, where their usual nemeses were able to take care of them. Because for some reason, they didn’t show up and I lowkey forgot to even include them in any capacity because of how much brainpower the villain encounters cost me.
Until next time I guess xD
------
WHOOPS----
#digimon headcanons#wingedballoonpeace#digimon adventure 01/02#digimon adventure x disney#mostly just villain encounters that was my bad#thanks tumblr for not doing the secondary bullets too smh
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
TVD 9x16 - What happens in Vegas... (part 2 of part 1) Enjoy! =)
Cut to – The hospital location. As soon as they arrive, they figure they must have made some kind of mistake. It is in fact a Psychiatric Hospital, but it looks like it has been abandoned for years.
UBER DRIVER: Looks like you might have the wrong address…
KAI: It’s the right address, look (shows Damon his phone with last night’s route).
DAMON: Guess it is…
UBER DRIVER: Are you sure you guys want me to leave you here?
IKER: Trust us, man, after last night, it can’t get any crazier.
UBER DRIVER: If you say so. Good luck! (Drives away).
ALARIC: (Looking at the creepy place, already regretting whatever they did there the previous night) Why?! Why on earth would we come here!
DAMON: Guessing princess bride here (referring to Kai), had something to do with that.
IKER: There is no way that call came from here...
DAMON: Let’s check it out. We’ll do it fast, in and out; just to make sure Stefan isn’t passed out somewhere inside.
ALARIC: I’m getting too old for this shit…
DAMON: Oh, come on, Ric! Think of it as another one of your Indiana Jones adventures (mocking him for the photos he took in cosplay), the Last Crusade, if you like.
ALARIC: Shut up…
They go inside… the place is straight out of a horror movie.
IKER: Okay, I’m officially creeped out.
DAMON: I say we split up; it’ll be faster and we can cover more ground.
KAI: Have you ever seen a horror movie? That’s exactly the kind of decision that gets everybody killed… Trust me, I would know.
DAMON: Fine, Michael Myers, you can come with me.
We’ll look this way... Iker, you and Ric can search down that corridor.
IKER: Sounds like a plan. But, 20 minutes max, then we meet back here.
DAMON: 20 tops. (Teasing, as him and Kai are walking away) Oh, and watch out for the killer clown…
IKER: Yo, don’t play with that shit, man! You know I hate clowns...
ALARIC: So do you, Damon. So, if anyone is pissing their pants, my money is on you.
(Damon and Kai walk towards one direction, Iker and Alaric, towards another).
KAI: Do you really think Stefan is here? I mean, I know he’s dark and gloomy, but this is a bit extreme… even for me.
DAMON: The only reason we are here is because your crazy ass is definitely responsible for dragging us here last night.
KAI: Yeah, probably… but still, creepy AF…
DAMON: Now you know how we feel when you’re around. But… what I am really intrigued about, is how the hell you joined our little party.
You must remember at least getting on a plane or something...
KAI: No… Last thing I remember, I was taking a nap, and then… puff! I woke up here…
DAMON: You couldn’t have driven; so how the hell did you get here… Makes no sense.
KAI: Ooh…! What if I can do that Bonster trick?! That’d be freakin awesome!
DAMON: Of course you can’t, that’s stupid. Unless… No, no, I refuse to believe that…
KAI: What? You think Bonster...? Hey, it makes more sense than the alternatives…
DAMON: No way! Hell no! Let’s just drop this little mystery of ours and do what we came here to do… (they continue searching; suddenly, he stops dead in his tracks) Shhhhh, do you hear that?
KAI: What? No…
DAMON: Listen…
KAI: I am! I don’t hear anything…
DAMON: I thought you had vamp hearing…. Listen harder.
KAI: (Standing completely still and in total silence, trying to listen…)
DAMON: (Does a vamp speed trick, scares the shit out of Kai) Killer clown!
KAI: Jesus mother of Christ! (Damon cracks up) Not funny, asshole!
I literally almost shit myself! And, I’m hung over, so that was a real possibility!
DAMON: Ew, no, no, no… you’re disgusting.
KAI: Just being honest… don’t act like you don’t know what that’s about.
DAMON: Yeah, no... definitely not having this conversation!
Come on, let’s pick up the paste; vamp speed our way through this place before we become the victims of the “based on a true story” Saw movie.
Cut to – Iker and Alaric
ALARIC: Sorry we got you into this mess, man.
IKER: No worries. I’m used to it. These types of situations pretty much sums up what it’s like being friends with Damon.
ALARIC: Tell me about it. My life said goodbye to “normal” the day we became friends.
IKER: Ditto (they laugh in complicity).
ALARIC: He’s a good guy, though. I mean, considering…
IKER: He is… I’m really glad Bonnie gave him a chance; never seen him this happy… like, really happy.
ALARIC: Me neither… I think we both know he wasn’t truly happy with Elena. Don’t tell her I said that… but no matter how hard they tried; it just wasn’t going to work; too messy. Gotta say, it’s kind of ironic that when he “got the girl”, turned out it wasn’t the “right girl” … After all his love drama, it was about time he finally found “the one”.
IKER: It sure was… Hey, man, look… (spots something strange ahead, vamps to it. It’s a black garbage bag; which wouldn’t be all that strange if it weren’t new). Check this out… (Alaric opens the bag, and starts taking memorabilia from iconic Britney Spears videos, which are clearly originals) What the…
ALARIC: I’m starting to believe Stefan wasn’t kidding…
IKER: Nah… you don’t think… Can’t be, right?!
ALARIC: When those two (referring to Damon and Stefan) team-up, anything is possible, so… maybe?
IKER: Oh, shit! This is getting crazier than I thought!
ALARIC: Straight out insane. Let’s go back. I’m pretty sure Stefan isn’t here, and this place is giving me the chills.
IKER: Me too… (they head back to the meeting point).
Cut back to Kai and Damon.
KAI: We’ve searched everywhere, I really don’t think he’s here…
DAMON: You’re right. Another dead end; let’s go back. (Just as they are about to turn around, Damon spots something) Wait… do you see that?
KAI: Hell no! I’m not falling again.
DAMON: No, I’m serious. Look... (they see something shiny. Damon takes a closer look, picks it up) It’s Donovan’s badge.
KAI: So, they were definitely here with us…Anything else?
DAMON: Nop, just the badge.
KAI: Well, let’s head back, see what we all make of it. This place is really starting to freak me out… the vibes, you know?
DAMON: Yeah, I know… (they speed vamp back to the meeting point and reunite with Alaric and Iker).
ALARIC: Find anything? Cause we did…
DAMON: Stefan?!
ALARIC: No, this (shows him the bag with the memorabilia).
DAMON: What is all this?
IKER: (Teasing) You know perfectly well what it is…
KAI: All too well, sweetheart.
DAMON: At least I didn’t get married in a tutu, princess.
KAI: That princess thing got old like an hour ago. You really need to start thinking outside the box, Damon.
DAMON: That’s right! Yes! A box! I remember a box!
ALARIC: Great! And…?
DAMON: That’s it, that’s all I got.
ALARIC: (Sarcastic) Very helpful, Damon.
DAMON: Well, we also found this… (shows them Matt’s badge)
ALARIC: Interesting… still not a lot to go on, but that confirms we were all here. Listen, guys, I may have a theory…I still don’t know how, or why, but I believe we actually did go to Britney’s house, the real Britney; at some point during the night…Look at the props; they don’t seem fake… Which brings me to the conclusion, that we must have stolen them from her house. Now, as for why? … I have no fucking idea, and I can live without knowing…
KAI: The Britney Spears?! Nah, there’s no way we would be able to break into her house!
DAMON: But what if we didn’t break in… What if, and just hear me out on this, Sheriff Donovan pulled the cop card… and that’s how they let us in.
ALARIC: Matt wouldn’t do that.
DAMON: Maybe not sober, but…
ALARIC: Still, they wouldn’t have let a wasted cop and his pals in for some tea.
KAI: But if we sneaked in… let’s say, hiding inside a police car?
IKER: A police car! Yes! I told you I remembered something about a police car; it was one of those suv ones…
DAMON: We must have stolen one…
IKER: Wouldn’t be a long shot.
DAMON: Don’t those things have trackers though? They would have found us in seconds.
KAI: Not if you know how to disable a tracking device… which I do.
DAMON: Why am I not surprised…
KAI: I had a lot of time on my hands, figured I’d learn a trick or two.
ALARIC: Okay, this is getting even more confusing. I say we go back to the villa, for all we know Stefan might be back. We can check the hotel parking lot, see if we find a stolen cop car; work it from there.
KAI: Agreed. We really need to get out of this place; freaking me TF out. Uber’s on me.
(They wait for a while, until their uber arrives. As they drive away, on one of the top floor windows, a freaky clown waves goodbye).
Cut to – The boy’s hotel villa. They walk inside, and hear the piano playing…
DAMON: It’s that damn monkey! (They walk into the living room, only to find Britney Spears, in the flesh, playing the piano).
BRITNEY: Hello, boys…
KAI: Britney…the Britney Spears…?
BRITNEY: The one and only…
KAI: (Totally fanboying) Oh my god!
DAMON: (Totally fanboying too) OMG! OMG! OMG! It’s Britney, bitches!
BRITNEY: Aw, you’re sweet…
(takes a gun out of her purse and points it at them). Now, shut the fuck up and tell me where the hell is the rest of my stuff!!
ALARIC: Wow, wow, wow… please, don’t shoot! It’s right here (hands her the bag, she looks through it).
BRITNEY: You’re lucky I like to handle somethings on my own. You’d all be dead if my security were involved…
DAMON: (Still fanboying) Lucky… I love that song!
BRITNEY: Now, where is Stefan? We need to settle this little feud of ours, once and for all.
ALARIC: Wouldn’t we all like to know…
BRITNEY: What do you mean? He was with you (referring to Damon), the cop, and the howling boy, at my house last night.
DAMON: Wait, so, neither of these guys were there with us?
BRITNEY: No… but if you had brought him (referring to Iker), maybe things could have turned out differently (winks at Iker).
Tell you what, boys, I’ll help you find him. As long as you help me get my long-awaited trophy win, on “Mr. Bon Jovi”.
DAMON: Wait… so that concert story; that was you?
I thought Stefan was messing with me!
BRITNEY: Oh, that was me… Prick made me think he was Bon Jovi, I was totally fangirling, so embarrassing. That was before I got really famous, and I met the real John. Made me feel like a fool when I told John we had met before, and he was like: “uhm, no we haven’t”. So, as you can understand, it was only fitting that I would get him back for that.
DAMON: I’m with you, Brit, Stefan is a dick!
ALARIC: Can you give us any insight on what happened at your place? Might help us figure out where he is.
BRITNEY: I know from my security cameras that they used a police suv to gain access. Then you (referring to Damon), did some weird eye thing to my security team, and they just stood there, doing nothing. I also know from the cameras, that Stefan took my babies Justi and Kevi (referring to the baby elephant and the monkey). And you (to Damon), stole the memorabilia I had from my videos… My red leather suit better be intact, or I’mma kill you!
DAMON: Oops…
IKER: Don’t you dare say: “I did it again”...
BRITNEY: Wait… I think I might know where he is… Back when we first met, we were here, in Vegas. He took me to this spot in the desert he liked to go to; he’s such a weirdo… Anyway, maybe he went there? You know, for old times’ sake…
ALARIC: Maybe… but it’s gonna be hard to find a “spot” in the middle of the desert, and we don’t have much time; our plane is leaving in like 3 hours.
BRITNEY: Well, if you want to go back home with the rest of your pack, you really don’t have much of a choice.
KAI: There’s no way we are going to find him if he is in the middle of the desert.
BRITNEY: It’s Britney, bitch!
Of course we’ll find him. Listen, you boys take the cop van and follow mine, I’ll lead you to the spot.
IKER: Except, we don’t know where it is…
BRITNEY: (Smirks) But I do… (shows them live cctv footage from inside the cop car) See, boys, I have eyes everywhere! It’s in the parking lot.
(They go to the car and find Matt and Tyler inside, a cellphone in Matts hand, and a lot of empty bottles lying around. As expected, neither of them remember anything about the previous night; it’s a miracle they even know who they are. The only thing they keep repeating, and cracking up about is, Rawson Neal Psychiatric Hospital. They are clearly either still drunk or high on something. They decide it’s best they stay behind and get some rest in the villa. Damon, Iker, Alaric and Kai get in the cop car, and follow Britney to the site.)
BRITNEY: Okay, boys, this is the spot. (They get out of the car, start looking around. She get’s out as well, points the gun at them). Did you really think I was going to help you?! Aw, cuties…no one messes with the Brit! I gave Stefan his, now it’s time for yours …
KAI: But, Britney, what about us (referring to himself, Iker, and Alaric)? We didn’t do anything!
BRITNEY: Guilty by association… Now, give me your clothes, and the car keys… Quick, or I swear I’ll shoot! (They hand her the stuff; she gets in her car. Just as she is about to take-off, she opens her window) If you want to know where Stefan is; it’s easy, he’s exactly where he belongs… Good luck trying to find an uber to pick you up here… And, by the way, sweetheart (talking to Damon), there’s only one princess of pop, and it ain’t you.
(Gives them the finger, and drives away).
DAMON: (Looking heartbroken) But… Britney…
ALARIC: (Sarcastic) Well, isn’t this peachy!
IKER: At least she left us our phones.
ALARIC: There is no way we are going to catch that flight, or find Stefan any time soon. I think it’s time to call Caroline…
DAMON: Shit! Shit! Shit!... Fine… I’ll do it… (dials). Care, it’s Damon… Listen ...The bachelor party got a little crazy and, well...we lost Stefan.
BONNIE: Uhm…think we might have a problem of our own…
DAMON: Bon?
BONNIE: It’s me, I think… Anyway; the bachelorette got a little crazy too, and, well… we lost Caroline.
TVD 9x16 (part 2) coming next! Hope you stop by, read and enjoy! =)
#TVD#tvd fanfiction#vampire diaries#bamon#bamon fanfic#bonnie bennett#damon salvatore#ilovefanfic86#mademoisellevalerie85#stephm1587#bamon-fanfiction
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
understanding people with ADHD
To: fiat_luz on twitter
From: @hhhhhotleafjuice / kingofpentacles on ao3
Prompt: Mello helping Matt with his ADHD
Word Count: 2.9k
A/N: This prompt intrigued me!! I eventually decided that Mello’s strategy to help Matt would be to research it, slightly dehumanizing Matt (not on purpose, just because i like making him dumb), and just generally getting it wrong and having to be put in his place
anyway, i would rate this as Teen, for cursing but this has mostly light themes, just dumb boys being boys. also peep the it’s always sunny reference :D
-
The atmosphere in the nearest public library was warm and cozy. Mello might have called it romantic, if he was the kind of person who said things like that. The main lights were high above him, but also, a yellow glow seeped from fairy lights strung along the walls of the lobby, contributing to the richly comfortable and Christmas-y feeling of the library. It wasn’t a huge place, but Mello admired whomever put up all the decorations. There were good quality dark green wreaths with bright red ribbons on each wall in the entire place. It smelled like books, and faintly, coffee. Probably, someone around the corner was studying for their final exams with a Thermos. Mello remembered doing the same almost every year before he left Wammy’s house.
But Mello hadn’t done that- or celebrated Christmas, for that matter- in a long time. He’d forgotten the smell of books, and how cheerful the holiday season was. He found himself lighting up at the sight of decorations, and deeper into the silent library, at the endless bookshelves, tall and full with knowledge waiting to be soaked in.
-
That night, he settled on the couch with one of the books he’d checked out, which was titled Understanding People With ADHD. The disorder was actually pretty interesting. Mello couldn’t really relate to it, but it sounded sort of magical and frustrating at the same time. Many people with ADHD struggle with executive dysfunction that seriously affects their lives, the introduction to the book said. But they are also some of the most creative, spontaneous, and energetic people you could ever meet. That definitely described someone he knew. Speaking of..
The quiet, beeping music of his GameBoy sounded across the room as Matt walked in.
“Didn’t know you could still read,” he said lightly. “Good for you, Mello.”
“Dickhead,” Mello said easily.
“Nah,” Matt mused, curling up into a ball on the other end of their ratty couch. Mello just kept reading and ignored Matt’s little character dying over and over. Each time he fell into a swamp, or the void, or got stomped on by a monster, whatever- it played a sad little tune that made you want to get back up again so the game wouldn’t be so disappointed. Which Matt did (get back up again), over and over. Beep beep beeeep, cried the game when he inevitably died.
The atmosphere of their lowly lit living room was cozy in spite of sad 8-bit background music. The warm, comfortable feeling in his stomach reminded Mello of the library, and he wondered whether they should get some fairy lights or wreaths in here, to make it a little prettier. It was a nice thought. But realistically, it would be like putting a feather boa on Jabba the Hut. They couldn’t make their shabby apartment pretty if they tried. It was comfortable, at least. This was comfortable- reading on the couch next to Matt, the heat of his presence little more than a meter away.
Either an eternity, or an hour- probably an hour- later, Matt suggested they watch a movie. They picked a romantic comedy they said they’d watch ironically, but ended up genuinely enjoying. It was about a woman (named something boring) who kept reliving the same twenty-four hours on Christmas Eve, or something like that. Anyway, she (Amanda?) got a concussion, baked banana bread, and fell in love, and Matt and Mello were cheering for her (Rose?) the entire time.
As the film progressed, they spread out on the couch, and ended up bumping knees and shifting a bit closer together every minute. The movie was good enough, though, that they were both glued to the screen the whole time, and loosely held hands and pushed their legs together unconsciously. Only after (Kate) got her happy ending did each of them wake up from that daze you get watching movies, realize they were touching, and separate.
“Wanna watch something else?”
“Nah,“ Mello said, feeling a little dazed, trying to shake himself awake. It was night now, he realized, and it had been dark for a while. Matt eventually shut his game and walked around the apartment shutting the curtains like he did every night.
"So, ADHD.” His voice came from a room away and was a little muffled. (So he had seen the book title. Mello had wondered about it earlier.)
“Yeah?” Mello said.
“Didn’t know you were so interested in all that psychology stuff.”
“You don’t see why I’d want to be informed about ADHD?” Mello deadpanned.
Matt’s head stuck out from his room, several feet away.
“If you really want to understand me,” Matt’s voice had a sarcastic lilt, mocking the title of the book, “I don’t see why you wouldn’t just ask me about it.”
Mello stuttered a little. “Well- I wanted to be educated and hear from the experts first,” he came up with randomly, an obvious cover for yeah, I genuinely didn’t think of that. Matt didn’t fall for it.
“Well, when you decide who’s more of an expert, I’ll be here.”
“Fine,” fell from Mello’s mouth, but there was no truth behind it. His mind was racing, berating him for not seeing the simple answer, and already plotting for the future. Matt went to bed, and Mello stayed up a little longer on the couch.
From his position (and from a small-ish window) Mello had a limited view of the night sky: about three faint stars could be seen from their apartments main window. Three stars in a black, unforgiving sky.
He wondered what he was going to say to Matt. Matt.. He seemed cool almost all the time. Bored. But if he wasn’t bored, he was racing with energy. Both sides of the spectrum of normal human emotion, equally intense. Matt was like that: all or nothing. He was going to be the best in a certain subject, but he didn’t care about the other ones. He loved cigarettes and hated alcohol. He loves me, he loves me not.
But was that a bad thing? There were good words for that kind of trait: spontaneous was one of them. Creative, hardworking, passionate. Calm, cool, determined. There were bad words, too. Irrational, impulsive, fidgety. Bored, mean, angry. It depended on who he was talking to, whether it was good or bad.
Who was to say ADHD was a disability? Maybe it was just a quirk.
..Then again, Understanding People With ADHD had made it clear that it was difficult to have. It made socializing difficult. It made your life difficult. It wasn’t fair to people with ADHD to say that ADHD is just a quirk. It wasn’t fair to Matt. Even if Matt didn’t appear to need help or at least want to talk about it, he’d just invited him to. And then there was that conversation a couple of nights ago..
(What he had said during their conversation the other night had been running through his head all day. They had gotten drunk off some peppermint thing Matt had almost definitely stolen and Matt had said something along the lines of “ADHD is a huge part of who I am and you know nothing about it, dude” and Mello had said, “I want to understand you, it’s just that we can never really talk unless we’re drunk,” ..or something like that. They had talked all night, and kept drifting towards each other, hands sliding together and eyes connecting sometimes..)
The window seemed to blur the more Mello stared at it, and he ended up with his head resting on his hand. Eventually, as he thought, his head slipped and his chin bumped into the arm rest. He winced. Time to go to bed.
Christmas Eve morning:
“Dude, I think I was a centaur in my past life."
Mello started to roll his eyes, but instinctively corrected himself and took a sip of coffee to hide his irritated face.
"I had the weirdest dream, and I’m starting to think at one point my mom was a horse. She had horse energy."
Matt chattered a bit, talking about his dream, which turned to Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles somehow. Mello tried to genuinely listen, but found himself entranced, for some reason, by Matt’s hair.
It was a little wild from sleep. Matt rolled around a lot in sleep, and it made his short curly hair stick up every which way. He never took care of his hair anyway, so it was permanently frizzy, even more so now.
It made him look soft and relaxed, not to mention vulnerable, as he explained the plot of a kids show in vivid detail. How he could do this but not study for more than an hour, Mello had no idea. But he wasn’t going to judge anymore (well, he was going to try, at least). That was the whole reason for this research/communication thing.
”..you got me?“
"Yeah,” Mello instinctively responded, waking up a bit.
“One thing: I hate shopping. I don’t spend money when I can steal."
Mello scrambled to catch up. What had he been talking about? Turtles, Christmas episode of the turtles, Christmas, decorating.. Oh, stealing Christmas decorations. "We’re trying to be normal citizens now, remember? Not criminals. We definitely don’t need cops on us, with our records. And besides, this place would look even more like shit if we got a bunch of cheery Christmas decorations in here.”
“I call bullshit,” Matt declared.
“You’re impossible.”
After arguing for a while, they decided to go shopping and did not steal; although Matt was seriously tempted when they drove by a Hobby Lobby. (“Come on,” he complained. “They’re homophobic, you know. It’d be homophobic not to steal from them. And they have really good Christmas stuff.”) They ended up visiting a Dollar Tree instead, since Hobby Lobby was insanely expensive (and tempting). They didn’t have lights, but they did have a ton of tinsel and cheap shit that they could drape everywhere, and hopefully that’ll give the same effect, right? Mello wondered. ..Meanwhile, he felt like he was looking at Matt too long, too many times. He was so close all of a sudden, since last night, or maybe before then. Every once in a while, he would lean in and suddenly he was just slightly too close, and Mello imagined leaning over and smelling his hair, for some reason.
It was kind of annoying and (intriguing?) at the same time. He couldn’t tell if Matt was really standing closer than normal (to mess with him? why else?), or if his brain was just warping everything for some reason.
By the end of their errand running, they had a small tree, a shit ton of tinsel (whatever the hell that was), and a really lazy looking Nativity scene. The sheep looked bored. When they got home, Matt drifted over to the couch and curled up on it, hunched in on himself like a hedgehog. Mello got to decorating, not able to help from glancing at his friend every few minutes.
Eventually, he stepped back and looked at the whole apartment. He sighed.
“Matt,” he said loudly, jolting the boy out of his haze.
Matt looked around, and nodded easily. “I like it.”
Mello stared. “Seriously?”
“Um.. It does look a little..” Matt gazed at the room and smacked his lips. In the manger, Baby Jesus seemed to give a sigh. “..Drab."
Mello groaned, looking like he wanted to pull out his gun at the decorations and threaten them until they got better. Or at least, looked less out of place in their worn apartment. He had been right; you couldn’t make this place pretty.
He glared at Matt as an I told you so, and fished a bar of chocolate from his jeans. It was a little soft, so it didn’t snap like he liked it to. Nevertheless, he chewed it hard, somewhere between enthusiastic and vicious. He started to take the decorations down, but Matt protested, coming off the couch to put a handful of tinsel back.
"I’ll fix it for you, Mel,” he said. Mello sighed. Weirdly, it felt like it had been a long day, even though it was just before noon. Actually trying hard to make this place look something like his childhood Christmases and utterly failing had taken something from him, and he felt vaguely like pouting.
“Could you even go shopping by yourself?” He challenged Matt. “I had to stop you from spending all our money on random crap like, three times. How did you even live without me?”
Matt looked at him. “See, dude, it’s shit like that. Didn’t you say you wanted to understand me, the other night? Understand this, asshole: don’t insult me about things I can’t control.”
“I-” Mello was caught off-guard, and felt his stomach sink a little. “I didn’t know you even remembered that."
"So you thought that I thought that you were just randomly into ADHD all of a sudden?”
“I’m sorry. That wasn’t a nice thing to say.” Mello practically had to kick himself to get the words out, stumbling and sounding like he was reading off a card. He felt a little embarrassed at himself, that it was this hard for him to apologize. He was in his twenties, if barely, and was legally an adult. Shouldn’t he be better at this? But the law had nothing to do with nature. Nature said that he still sometimes had childish urges that were completely unadult. Nature made Mello bad at apologies. (Still, all that meant was that he had to practice.)
“I’m sorry,” he said again, more firmly this time. “I didn’t mean it.”
Matt nodded his acceptance, flipping the screen of his toy up and down, thinking. “You mind going out again then?” It was true, Matt probably couldn’t do all the shopping on his own (lists, planning, and deadlines were not his forté).
Mello didn’t mind. He was realizing now that he already helped Matt with plenty of things, and it was instinct to point him in the right direction, and encourage him, in his own way. Mello hadn’t needed to do research after all, just to listen (and pay attention).
They decided to put some real effort into it this time, and returned some of the stuff from Dollar Tree, just to scrape up every cent they had. They easily spent twice as much as before at a flea market, and (after Matt insisted) Hobby Lobby (although they did a fair amount of “borrowing” as Matt called it).
Matt also insisted on hiding a few things he bought, making Mello turn away as he swiped a stolen card for them.
They decorated all afternoon, taking much longer than Mello had with the initial things from the dollar store. Matt put on a Christmas playlist, and Mello hummed sometimes, under his breath. Matt was more the type to belt it out, although he couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket. It was incredibly annoying (and cute, but Matt didn’t need to hear that).
They ended up having enough supplies that they decorated the kitchen too, and put up a few wreaths in the hallway. The end result was actually kind of.. quaint. Mello had ended up getting things that reminded him of the library, dark green and bright red and low yellow lighting (Matt pushed him into impulsively buying the fairy lights). It was less expensive looking than the library, but it was very them, not to mention cozy-looking and warm. They kept the simple nativity scene, but decorated it with tinsel, making even the sheep look a little more happy.
As much as the living room looked like the library Mello had visited, he couldn’t help but also be reminded of Wammy’s House, mostly from the things Matt had secretly gotten. The little Christmas tree had also stayed, and Matt had bought a silver angel for the top, similar to the one they pulled out every Christmas at Wammy’s. Stacked next to the tree were a few small presents Matt had wrapped in newspaper, another reference to their childhood. Besides the tree, Matt had gotten a cinnamon-scented candle, a reminder of a little blonde girl from Wammy’s House who had gotten a candle for Christmas and lit it every Christmas Eve in the sitting room; she made it last four years. Cinnamon always reminded Mello of her, and simple kindness and generosity. But the apartment also reminded him of Wammy’s House just because of how happy he was, and having Matt by his side for his first real Christmas in years.
Mello walked around the living room (it didn’t take long), occasionally trailing his fingertips along some wreath or bauble. It was pretty in the room, and glittering everywhere. It was- dare he say- romantic. He shot Matt a smile, uncaring that he probably looked ridiculous, grinning so openly. It was going to be a bitch to clean up, but it was also so pretty in here.
They sat together on the couch in their newly Christmas-ified apartment and watched another clichéd romcom movie that was enjoyable in its ridiculousness. Matt pulled out another thing he’d snuck from the store: a small box of candy canes. Naturally, they sucked down the end of their respective candy canes until they were sharp as needles, and fought with them like swords.
Their first kiss tasted like peppermint.
9 notes
·
View notes
Note
what headcanons do u have
Why thank you for asking i didn’t bait this at all (heart emoji)
1. Matthew Murdock is autistic and sensory overload is a bitch for every single reason (he thought for a long time his whole thing was because he had a weird childhood and was really repressed but he got diagnosed in his 30s)
2. Foggy, in every universe is either currently a smoker or used to be. he’s so stressed all the time and he sometimes needs to relax. He has all the other vices. he’s prone to drink when he’s sad. he smokes weed when he can’t sleep. eventually, he gets on prescribed medication because he Cannot Catch a Break but he’s a stickler for rules so he doesn’t abuse the meds.
3. They’re both terrible with infants. They only know how to talk to kids 6+ when they start getting a little coherent.
4. Foggy likes savory food more than sweet food. He takes his coffee black. He likes fatty foods. Umami. If something assaults him with pure sugar he will not eat. All his birthday cakes have had a layer of pepperoni in the middle and he’s the only one who eats it
5. Stilt-Man and Mole-Man are both in love with Foggy. They brunch about it sometimes.
6. Matthew actually doesn’t understand God and is more of a cultural catholic than anything else (maybe it’s me being salty because the comics rarely feel like they were written by any christian who was heavily into theology) but like many “raised x” kids, he just assumes that’s how things are
7. Frank Punisher is a gay man who was in love with one woman legitimately and he married her because he couldn’t resolve himself with his identity. He holds onto the notion that he can’t be gay because he was in love with her, and it was real, but sexuality is also very complicated. he’s in love with linus micro
8. Karen Page trans. She moved away from her small town to be in the big apple and she has a weird relationship with her dad. listen i just feel it.
9. Everyone adopts Samuel Chung Blindspot but not his sister because his sister is a Functional Person and has a huge support network. She’s the only functional extrovert up in this bitch.
10. There’s a DD online fan community and the running joke is that Matt Murdock is DD because he seems like the least likely candidate in all of Hell’s Kitchen (Nelson and Murdock are semi-famous just because they do a lot of grassroots work and are involved in their communities. Matt is a disability advocate in his (very scarce) spare time. Foggy volunteers with the homeless and disadvantaged youth communities, what have you. They’re familiar faces). Whenever there’s sensationalized and partially inaccurate news about Matt a la “Local Lawyer heads trial that deems hot pockets illegal in public spaces” or whatever, the next hot meme is like “I guess DD hates hot pockets.”
49 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
tf-lover
Tf Lover
fameternal
Fam Eternal
bmsjposts
Body, Mind and Spirit for Jesus
clingysanie
SANctuary💋
hallebikes
Untitled