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liketolaugh-writes · 3 months

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I know I've talked about this before, but God, I'm never going to stop resenting the hold that Harry Potter has on me.

As an autistic person, special interests never really leave you, and that's more true for longer-standing ones. I really can't explain how all-consuming they are, how much time and energy and love you pour into them, how much joy and comfort you get from them. I'm kind of between special interests right now, after finishing both Constellations and Blue Food Project, and it's unsettling. Makes me restless, leaves a lot of time in my day. (Time I can use to look for jobs! Positives.)

Anyway. Harry Potter was definitely my longest-standing special interest to date. It was my SI through most of elementary school, and given the choice, I would do nothing except reread them, over and over and over and over again. My parents had to institute a rule where every time I finished the series, I had to wait a certain amount of time before I read it again, and I always did as soon as the time was up. There are parts of it, useless stupid lines, that I can still recite from memory. ("And he was even brave enough to nibble the end off a funny gray one that turned out to be pepper" has always been my favorite example.) I don't engage much with the Harry Potter fandom, because it's a mutant factioned thing that kind of scares me, but the story stays with me nonetheless.

Like many other fans, this letter broke my heart; I'm sure you know the one even without clicking the link. She's only gotten worse since then (every so often I still look at her Twitter account and mourn) but this was the beginning of the end. Most authors, I can forgive their transgressions; I can trust that they've grown, I can accept that their work is flawed, and I can enjoy what I read despite that.

Every since that letter, and plenty of the subsequent scandals besides, I've been unable to do that. I read any part of Harry Potter and I can see nothing but flaws. I see sexism, and ableism, and cultural appropriation and colonialism and hypocrisy. I think, why are there so many crowds of tittering girls? and why does everyone hate Fleur seemingly just for being French and pretty? and why did she design the Slug Club without any acknowledgement of 'this is literally how to break into a career field?' There is nothing there for me but frustration and hurt.

I've seen people in the trans community complain about cis folk asking if they can 'still enjoy' Harry Potter, which I understand. (I consider myself nonbinary, but my gender identity is so unimportant to me that I still consider my place in that community tenuous.) But this isn't that. This is frustration. Harry Potter was carved into me years ago, and I can't seem to dig it out, and I have yet to decide what to do with that.

But the story stays with me. The memory of it is inescapable. I don't even really need to reread the books to write fanfics, most of the time; I know every plot point by heart. How could I not? And every unanswered question, every point of shoddy worldbuilding that drives me nuts about that world - I can fix those. I do it all the time in other fandoms. It's really not that hard to create the answers to the plot holes that bother you.

Most of the Harry Potter fics I write are crossovers - Harry Potter goes well with just about any world, kind of like Avengers does. But there's one I've been playing with that bugs me in a special way.

I mentioned finishing 'Constellations,' my two part series where Percy Jackson goes to therapy for everything he goes through in the PJO and HoO books. That was a love letter to Percy Jackson, to Rick Riordan's writing. Like any writer, he has his flaws and weak points, but I love it nonetheless, every part of it. I wrote it with the intent to supplement and highlight canon for everything I love about it.

Now, I find myself writing a similar fic for Harry Potter, with Harry Potter going through therapy. It's in the beginning stages yet (such stories are obviously difficult) but it's such a fascinating topic that I can't shake it. What happens when a survivor of such vicious neglect suddenly is accused of seeking attention at every turn? How can someone so victimized by the Ministry come to trust them enough to work as an Auror? Did Dumbledore truly understand what he subjected Harry to with the Dursleys?

But with Constellations, I had respect for Riordan's writing that I don't have for Rowling's. Such a story would come from a completely different place. And that's fascinating, too. It's just complicated.

I'm not going anywhere with this, I guess. It's just- frustrating, to so thoroughly resent a story and a cast that I also love so much.

#long post #harry potter #hp #jk rowling #sorry it didn't seem right to break it anywhere #it has been YEARS now of trying to deal with this #autism #special interests #just because this post is arguably almost more about that than about harry potter #i kind of want to do a complete reread of the books and annotate everything that bothers me #would that help? maybe!#i don't know

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ao3feed-irondadspiderson · 6 months

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Don't Feel Well

https://archiveofourown.org/works/51947002 by noonecaneverknowwhoiam “I can practically hear your brain spinning,” Tony says after a few moments of silence. “Come on, kid, give it to me. I can get you literally anything you want.” Peter hesitates again. He can’t say the words. But he can sign them. He sits up and faces Tony, then darts his eyes two feet to the left, unable to look at him. “Want dad me.” Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Tony’s face fall. “I’m so sorry, bud,” Tony says. “That’s the one thing I can’t get you.” But Peter shakes his head, and looks right at Tony this time. Not in the eyes, but in the face, which tells Tony that what Peter’s about to say is really important. “You dad me,” Peter signs. “Oh,” Tony says, breath catching. “Oh. Yeah, kid, I can be your dad,” he says. Both he and Peter pretend his eyes aren’t filling with water. “I’d love to be your dad.” or Peter wakes up with a sore throat but decides to go to school anyway. But when he gets to the Tower, he's wiped. Avengers family fluff, but especially Irondad. Words: 2292, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/M, Gen Characters: Peter Parker, Ned Leeds, Michelle Jones (Marvel), Happy Hogan, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Friday (Marvel) Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones & Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Pepper Potts, Peter Parker & Steve Rogers, Peter Parker & Natasha Romanov, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts & James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, Happy Hogan & Peter Parker Additional Tags: Sickfic, Sicktember, Whumptober, Febuwhump, Sick Peter Parker, Not Canon Compliant with Movie: Avengers: Infinity War (2018), Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Aunt May Parker & Tony Stark Coparenting Peter Parker, Teen Peter Parker, Peter Parker Gets a Hug, Peter Parker Calls Tony Stark "Dad", Autistic Peter Parker, Neurodiversity, Neurodivergent Peter Parker, Self-Indulgent, My First Fanfic, My First AO3 Post, My First Work in This Fandom read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/51947002

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #iron dad and spider son #spider son #iron dad #peter parker #tony stark

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romanarose · 1 year

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Cleaning out my Closet (Passover)

Marc Spector

Summary: Years ahead of the events of Moon Knight, Marc Spector is happy. He's happily married, has three children he adores, has a good relationship with his dad, Steven, Jake, Layla, and his brother-in-law. Still, none of it erases what happened to him, and in entering his childhood home again, he must grapple with feelings he still has. As he packs up his childhood home, he unpacks his past.

A/N: This fic serves as a epilogue to Seattle (linking to the AO3 bc tumblr messed up my links, and everything on my masterlist is under construction. If you like it, please consider leaving a kudos!) but is specifically written to stand alone. Seattle has an OC, Rebecca, not a reader, however, this fic is meant to serve as a one shot, but id dint want to do reader, the OC is just referred to as her/she, but I capitalized the pronounce to differentiate for simplicities sake.

HOPE YOU ENJOY!!! Pesach Sameach!!!!!

Warnings: References to child abuse and death of a child (the usual stuff for Randall's death and Marc's abuse), mentions of ableism on Wendy's part talking about Marc being autistic (vague). I think that's it? This is Jewish as fuck. Seattle has had episodes with Rosh Hashanah, Purim, and Hannukah so I thought it was fitting to write for Passover too. Maybe we'll have something for Yom Kippur, who knows. Any antisemitism will simply be blocked.

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I'm sorry, Mama I never meant to hurt you I never meant to make you cry But tonight I'm cleanin' out my closet

Marc Specter hung in the doorway of his childhood bedroom, taking deep breaths as he worked up the courage to enter. She had offered to come with him, but Marc told her he needed to do this himself. Together, with the kids, Marc and Her had come to the home he grew up in to help his dad move. In recent years, Marc had come back into contact with Elias, frequent phone calls and occasional visits, although usually with Elias visiting him and his little family, as traveling with kids is a struggle. There was, also, the fact Marc didn't really enjoy coming to Chicago. He had been, here and there, but She went more than him to visit Her brother who had moved back to the city.

Things had been much better, great, even. Marc was married and in love with his childhood best friend. Her brother, Asa, and him had reconnected again, becoming once more the little brother that Marc always thought of him as, and a name on the list of several close friends he had; a life he never expected for himself. Him, Steven and Jake were as close as brothers and fought alongside Matty, Peter, and Frank, keeping New York safe on a small scale the avengers couldn’t be bothered with. Marc had forgiven his dad, and had a life now where he could really call himself happy.

Going to Chicago again, however, was still a struggle. He hadn’t been in this house for years now, and hadn’t really planned to ever again, but he had a duty as a son to help his dad. Elias had mentioned hiring movers when it was decided that he needed to downsize after a minor fall attempting to get upstairs. Her and Marc decided this was an undertaking they couldn’t just leave him to, and made the 800 mile car trip with two five year olds and a baby in the car to help move. Entering the place him and Randel grew up in, a place that once was happy and loving, and turned into his own personal hell… it was difficult, but he did it.

It was soon to be passover weekend, they had driven a few days before and planned to get some packing done before celebrations, and they got a good chunk of the first floor packed up, Marc not daring to enter upstairs, not yet. Frequently, he had to take breathers. Sometimes he’d go for a walk alone, sometimes She would come outside to talk or sit with him, or Steven or Jake might take over for a while. Marc’s son, AJ, always seemed to have a sense for when his dad needed him. Marc hated the idea that he couldn’t always be strong for his kids, he never wanted them to feel like his emotions were their responsibility, but She said it just meant AJ was empathetic, which was a good thing.

Marc kept working as She and Elias got going on the Passover Seder, but Marc was too in his thoughts, damn near obsessive as he packed things, almost a cleanse of sorts. A set of fancy wine glasses, one missing that Wendy threw at him and shattered; pack it away, it's over, it’s done. Pictures of their family before Randell’s death; pack it away, it’s over, it’s done. The knife set Marc was washing as his mom screamed at him, wondering if he used them for self defense, if he’d go away to prison forever… pack it away, it’s over, it’s done. Piece by piece, Marc sorted through parts of his life he had always thought better left alone. Marc tried not to react heavily around his dad; they made amends and he loved Elias, he didn’t want to hurt him more, not again… She, his dad, Steven and Jake seemed to recognize this fact, and allowed him the space he needed to get through this daunting task, taking care of the heavy lifting while Marc went through the smaller things, sometimes sitting in silence for several minutes just staring at an item or two.

That’s how he ended up here. He had to get to his bedroom at some point, it may as well be now. Him and Randell shared a bedroom growing up, so when he drowned, his stuff had been packed away. That would be a task to go through for another day, for now, Marc was just focusing on not throwing up. Everything looked the same as the day he left, no doubt the room had been shut away after he ran away, Wendy attempting to pretend he had never existed most days. She had her moments, moments she was a good mom... Even in before she always favored Randell, but how could you not? He was an easy kid. Randell didn’t melt down when is clothing was a bad texture or things were too loud, Randell didn’t refuse to eat for days until something was made he could stand to taste, Randell didn’t need to stim or fidget, Randell acted exactly as Elias and Wendy expected for a child, eye contact and hugs and normal ways of playing… Marc wasn’t that.

But none of that is to say things were bad in the first 8 years, things were good, actually. Elias was a patient man and Wendy tried her best, she showered Marc in affection and praise… but that almost made it worse, didn’t it? Marc often wondered how his psyche would have been if he hadn’t been given a happy family at the start, if he didn’t know a mothers love, if he didn’t have to wonder which version of his mom he’d come home to after school. Marc learned early on that love was conditional, and that had very much played into his relationship with Her. He struggled to believe She could love him in all his flaws when his own mother couldn't? But that wasn't entirely fair… Wendy had moments, she tried. A few days in a row she might sober up and there would be a bit of hope, no matter how much Marc had been played, for years when she’d suddenly act nice, taking him to the zoo or to a movie… he’d always think ‘maybe this is it, maybe she’s changed…’ but she never did, and a few days later he’d be trying to sooth lash marks from a belt.

Looking around, Marc saw a room that was so incredible… normal. There was a Star Wars poster with a very sexy princess leia in a dress she absolutely did not wear in A New Hope and very muscular Luke Skywalker despite the fact Marc knew damn well Mark Hamil did not have a 6 pack in that movie. There was a Cubs poster and a signed bat hanging on the wall (the bat was Randell from a game they went to for his birthday.). Finally taking a step in, Marc slowly wandered around the place he spent most of his time in the house, hoping to stay out of her way.

Wendy violated the sanctuary of his room, however, so this was far from a safe place. It was here that Steven first appeared, necessary to his survival, during a particularly vicious attack, Steven protecting him like his father never could.

There was a thin layer of dust on the surfaces, but light enough to know that Elias apparently learned in there, took care of it. Looking over to his book of baseball cards, he saw clearly it had been touched recently. How often, over the last 20 years, had Elias come in here and reminisced? Marc knew he had regrets, he knew Elias wished he had done something… but there's no use thinking on that now. Still, the idea of his dad missing him so much he’d come to his room just to feel a semblance of him was comforting.

Packing all this would have to wait for another day, it was taking a heavy toll just being here, refamiliarizing himself with his room again. He wanted to be able to celebrate Passover properly, She loves this holiday, and he wanted to pass on the importance of it to their children. It wasn’t lost on him, the irony of serving under an egyptian god, but a deal had been made; no killing. He did things the way Matty did, and felt damn good about it; the bad people were punished and his conscience rested clean. What Jake did… that was his own business.

Marc wandered over to his closet, looking over the clothing he left behind years ago, clothes that wouldn’t fit anymore but would be in good donating condition. On the shelf on top, Marc grabbed a poster and unrolled it. ‘When danger is near, Steven Grant has no fear’ the poster read, and Marc smiled, just a bit. All the bad that happened, he always had Steven, and Jake, although he didn’t know it at the time. Kneeling down, Marc began to look through the boxes on the floor, old toys he grew out of, many of which he played with Randell; the wooden train set, his lite bright, long dead tamagotchi, and the Mouse Trap that was never touched after Randell died.

It wasn’t fair, really, it wasn’t. He didn’t care how long it had been, how his mom had been dead for years now, he was angry. Not the all consuming anger he used to feel, not to ever present over-boiling rage, but the anger that was usually at a simmer, a low simmer, that only came out when prompted… He was good at keeping it at bay, he refused to raise his kids like that. The twins had seen him vulnerable, to be sure, and he tried to remind himself mistakes happened, but if he ever thought for a moment that they feared him, he wouldn’t know how to react, and it would take everything in him not to run away.

As he kept sorting through his old things, thinking about just having a huge bonfire and burning it all, when he heard footsteps in the hallway.

She stopped at the doorway. “Hi, sweetheart, can I come in?”

Marc’s sweater was on the floor, he had clearly been crying a bit and it had been… fuck, had it been an hour? “Yeah”

Slow, She walked over to him, sitting on the floor where he was “Do you want to talk about anything in here?”

Marc shook his head. “No. I think this room is gonna be hard to pack up.”

Nodding, She pulled Marc into a side hug. “It’s okay, we can take it slow.” She patted his head softly. “Layla’s here, Asa said he’ll be here in ten”

Pulling himself off her, he wiped his eyes. “Right, sorry, I’ll get it together”

“No, no” She assured him. “I was just telling you, there's no hurry, baby.”

“Where are the kids?” Marc said with a soft sniffle.

“Layla’s in the backyard with AJ and Ester, Rachel fell asleep in your dads arms, it’s pretty sweet.”

Marc nodded, taking a breather for asking. “Is the food ready?”

Bursting into a laugh, She leaned into Marc who smiled and wrapped an arm around her. “Would some food and wine make you feel better, sweetheart?”

“Yeah” Marc chuckled. “Yeah I think that would cure me.”

She kissed his forehead. “Remember the story behind Pesach, my love. It’s about hope, faith, community…”

“I know” Marc sighed. “I didn’t have a lot of hope growing up… but I do now” For a long time, his faith in Her was what kept him going, but in recent years he found his faith in God again. Growing up and for years after, Marc regarded Passover with disdain. A holiday that commemorates the Passing over of Jewish first born sons struck him with anger. He was saved from the floods in the cave, but he would have traded all that in a moment to have Randell alive. Randell wouldn’t have been beaten for Marc’s death… Marc shook his head. It was done, there was no going back.

Gently, She touched his back. “I’ll be downstairs, honey. We’ll all sit down when you’re ready. Oh, and Elias found that book he wanted to give Steven, make sure he doesn’t forget it, or the cookbook for Jake.” She stood up to go.

“Honey?” He asked, staring into the closet still.

“When we get back to New York… I think I’d like to go to a Mikvah bath.”

She paused at that. “Really? You know you… you have to be-”

“Fully submerged, yeah, I know. I want to.”

“Are you… are you doing alright, Marc?”

He nodded. “I’ll be okay. Just… after all this is over, I want to be… cleansed. I’m packing this all away, and when it’s done… I want it washed out”

Smiling softly, She nodded. “That sounds like a good idea, sweetie pie.” She bent down and kissed his forehead. “You are doing so good, you are so strong, and I am so proud of you.”

Marc smiled up at the love of his life. “Thank you, baby. I’ll be down in a minute.”

With loving eyes, She smiled back at him before heading down stairs, and Marc heard the sound of her greeting her brother at the door.

Staring into the abyss of his closet, a place he used to hide in that was now piled high with boxes of broken memories, he spoke to someone he didn’t know could hear him or not.

“It didn’t work, ma. You didn’t win. I know you wanted me to hurt, to hurt the way you were…” His voice wavered. “But I already was! I was a kid! A kid whose brother died and I was left to deal with it alone! You left!” Marc took a steadying breath, composing himself. “And for a long time, it worked, you made me as angry and miserable as you were, I let myself become what you always said I was. Angry, jealous, a killer.” Marc shook his head, closing his eyes. Could she hear him? Wherever she was, would she know? He wasn’t sure. Not a lot of emphasis on the afterlife in Judaism, and the whole run-in with Taweret complicated matters on what Marc believed happened, but that wasn’t really the point.

“I got out, I got better. I’m married and got three beautiful, perfect kids. Esther looks a lot like you, if I’m being honest.” He sighed a quick laugh to himself. “You’d love her, she’s incredibly bright, always dragging AJ around everywhere, always getting into things… AJ is her anchor though, always making sure she doesn’t get hurt, he’s always thinking of others… Takes after his mom like that. AJ's real name is Asa, I don't know if you know that or not. I don't know what you know, honestly. We named him after his uncle, Her brother. Esther is probably obvious, She always loved Purim, t was her favorite holiday, the first one we celebrated together once She and I were reunited...Rachel’s just a baby right now, but she’s got her mom’s hair, looking like she got my height right now” A genuine smile appeared on Marc’s face as he talked about his family, relaxing. "She's named after Randell. Maybe it's a bit of a stretch, Rachel, Randell, but it sounds similar, and She and I planned to stop at three kids... we might still have another, I don't know, but I wanted to name one of them after Randell, but I just... I wasn't ready when the twins were born." A loud, deep sigh.

"I guess I don’t know what you wanted for my life. You tried, sometimes, even if it wasn’t a lot, even if it wasn’t for long, you tried… but it wasn’t fair to me, it wasn’t fair to dad, and it wasn’t fair to you, holding on to all that anger… I hope…” Marc’s body shook with anxiety as he desperately tried to speak his piece. “I hope you found some kind of peace in the end, mom. I do. I hope you found peace wherever you are now. Because I did. I’m happy, I have friends, I have a family, I have a life I’m proud of… I hope we were that for you, in the beginning… there were good years, weren’t there? Yeah. There were. The Four of us, a happy family… Then everything changed in an instant…” He shook his head. “What’s done is done, I’ve moved on. It still hurts, and I think it will always hurt, but I’ve moved on. Shalom, ma, Baruch Dayan Ha’emet”

Marc Spector stood in the stairwell of his childhood home. Decades ago, this is where his mom first screamed at him, but now, things were so, so different. Layla was putting Rachel in her high chair, Asa was getting Esther down from precarious surface she had climbed up on, AJ helped Her and Elias set up the table… Things were so different now, so, so much better. He was cleansed, he was happy, he was hopeful...

Free.

I guess we are who we are Headlights shining in the dark night I drive on Maybe we took this too far

I want a new life, one without a cause So I'm coming home tonight, well, no matter what the cost And if the plane goes down, or if the crew can't wake me up Well, just know that I'm alright, I was not afraid to die Oh, even if there's songs to sing, well my children will carry me Just know that I'm alright, I was not afraid to die Because I put my faith in my little Girls, so I never say goodbye cruel world Just know that I'm alright, I am not afraid to die

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Thank you for reading!!!! I love any content that highlights that the boys are Jewish so if you got anything like that for passover send it my way!!

Wish me luck bc I got a paper due tonight I havn't started and I still got serivices tonight lol

Anyway Im excited this is my first passover and my temple is having a community seder so im super excited!!!!

For those who aren't familiar with eminem lore, (im so sorry but i love his music) the title and first lyric in this fic are from his song, cleaning out my closet, which is a very angry song about Eminem's moms abuse. It was so bad she actually tried to sue him over it. The second set of lyrics comes from an album about 11 years later, a reflection of their relationship after Eminem got sober. It a great song detailing the complexities of a relationship with an abusive parent who you still love. I like it because it doesnt make excuses, but understands the external factors that lead to how he was treated.

None of this fic is meant to tell anyone how to fell about thier abusive parent, it's simply how I think marc might feel years on when he is in a better place, and somewhat my feelings too.

@welcometostayingawake @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @ninebluehearts @sofi786 @myfandomlikesandstories @tippycakes26 @ahookedheroespureheart @arsonfrogger @milkymoon2483 @0bsessedwithfictionalcharacters @miraclesabound

#Marc spector #marc spector fanfiction #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight #marc spector angst #marc spector hurt comfort #marc spector moon knight #moon knight hurt comfort #moon knight angst

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themculibrary · 9 months

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Tony Needs A Hug Masterlist

And The World Moves On... It Has To (ao3) - Teamironmanforever clint/laura, natasha/tony T, 157k

Summary: This fic is set Five Years after the events of Civil War.

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The New Avengers, headed by Tony Stark, have finally established themselves in the world, working closely alongside the UN to maintain public trust. The team has managed to create a close-knit bond, working together to forget the past. However, when Thanos comes to threaten the earth, the Avengers will be forced to face some old ghosts when Steve Rogers and his team of renegades are called in to work with Tony's team.

The two teams will be forced to face their pasts to work together to save Earth.

and you needed someone to show you the way (ao3) - SailorChibi bucky/steve/tony, clint/phil/natasha T, 24k

Summary: Tony knows what the team really thinks of him. It's a delicate balance: they tolerate him because of his money and his toys, and he gets to stay on the team and fight with them. He's okay with that. So long as he hides the fact that Steve's and Bucky's names are written on his skin in the most embarrassing act of one-sided loveaffection ever, everything will be fine.

It just figures that a fantastically stupid villain, a kidnapping plot and a video camera will bring Tony's well-kept secret out into the open.

Anthropocene (ao3) - firebrands steve/tony M, 13k

Summary: Anthropocene: (noun) the current geological age, viewed as the period during which human activity has been the dominant influence on climate and the environment.

This is a story about how across timelines, across universes, it's always them: Steve Rogers and Tony Stark, and how their relationship will always influence those around them. This about them getting it right, over and over again, until it sticks.

(A soulmate AU, and eventually a civil war fix-it.)

Blue As True As Blue Can Be (ao3) - aaralyn bruce/tony M, 77k

Summary: Tony Stark has worked hard to make sure everyone sees exactly what he wants them to. After all, they'd all rather see the asshole with the too-bright smile than the terrified person underneath who is desperately trying to conceal that which has caused him so much pain. Trust him, he knows.

(Tony Stark is a mutant, and his father had made sure to note /exactly/ how he felt about that. Now, with the Avengers living with him full-time, it's getting more and more difficult to hide the part of him that almost no one still alive knows about.)

Changing Fate (ao3) - Wix bucky/tony T, 27k

Summary: Tony dies in Siberia under the hands of Captain America, but fate doesn't leave it there. He opens his eyes several years earlier amidst the threat of Loki's invasion and the first assembling of the 'Avengers'. Tony may not understand why he got this second chance, but he's going to do better with it - and he's decided that he's going to share it. With a Winter Soldier who could really use a different hand than he was dealt.

Never let it be said that fate doesn't have a sense of humor.

Don't Look Down (ao3) - NamelesslyNightlock loki/tony M, 256k

Summary: When forced to decide between the lives of Tony Stark and Iron Man, Steve Rogers chose wrong.

Tony is left to deal with the consequences, but it’s not like he’s helpless, and he certainly isn’t alone.

Don't Say It (ao3) - bibliomaniac bucky/steve/tony T, 35k

Summary: Tony Stark is autistic and nonverbal. Which is fine, obviously, except for it means that Steve and Bucky don't have his words, and it only takes him a few minutes to decide they don't need to know he has theirs.

That's also totally and definitely fine, until he goes and falls in love with them.

Forms of Love (ao3) - bear_bell bucky/tony E, 33k

Summary: Months after the Avengers' dispute in Germany, the team returns to the US and moves back into the tower. As always, everyone pretends that nothing happened. Tony is just fine with this. He's used to pretending, and he'll be damned if he lets any of them see him flinch.

Tony's the bad guy, after all. He's used to it. He's fine with it. He's good at it.

Only now, there's something far worse loitering around the tower - The Winter Soldier. No one notices the guy at first, but when they do, Tony figures that he should have the soldier's back.

Birds of a feather should flock together, and the bad guys should start a book club.

From You I Cannot Hide (ao3) - SailorChibi steve/tony, bucky/natasha, clint/phil M, 66k

Summary: Being a sub isn’t the worst thing in the world. Being a sub who doesn’t like pain, well. That’s just weird. A sub’s sole responsibility in life is to be anything and everything a dom wants, an open canvas for a dom’s brush, malleable and sweet. Obie taught him that, and that fear ultimately tears him and Pepper apart. So Tony hides his dirty secret and doesn’t sub for anyone now. But that doesn’t stop him from wanting.

hold the things you wanna say (ao3) - SailorChibi steve/tony T, 6k

Summary: Tony is still a consultant, and between SI, the team and SHIELD he's overworked and exhausted. That's okay.

He and Steve have been having sex for weeks but that's all it is, just sex, and Tony wants more but he'll never get it and that's okay. Really.

What's not okay is the fact that Howard Stark has somehow appeared in the future and is the same as always.

This is definitely going to fuck up his schedule.

Hide A Heart Of War (ao3) - RayShippouUchiha bucky/steve/tony T, 12k

Summary: “You’ve got war in your heart boy,” Howard sneers, “don’t ever try and pretend to be anything but what you are.”

Tony feels the familiar burn of a flower mark being etched into his skin but he doesn’t look, doesn’t try and check to see what it is. Instead he keeps his eyes on Howard and his hands cupped around his bleeding mouth and nose.

It don't mean a thing (ao3) - Just_Bill bucky/tony M, 10k

Summary: Bucky didn't expect much more than a good salary and a hot meal when working the Stark gala. What he found was the most beautiful man he'd ever seen. Unfortunately they live in a time where love between men is dangerous and forbidden, and the world is at war.

nothing left but scars (ao3) - SailorChibi steve/tony E, 6k

Summary: Steve wakes up to the fact that no one ever compliments or even says thank you to Tony, and that he has fallen into the same trap of painting Tony with a specific paintbrush.

This is how he showers a very confused Tony with praise to make up for it.

Sharpen Your Teeth (ao3) - STARSdidathing loki/tony M, 369k

Summary: A betrayed Tony Stark leaves the Avengers. He's angry and bitter but he's not about to stop being a hero. The problem is that not everyone is happy with his decision.

Stay With Me (ao3) - sara_holmes steve/tony M, 67k

Summary: Where Steve doesn’t quite die, ends up stranded in the multiverse and would quite like to know how the hell so many versions of himself ended up sleeping with Tony Stark. Well, that’s going to make things a tad awkward when he gets home.

Tangled Up in You (ao3) - SailorChibi tony/t’challa T, 29k

Summary: Sometimes when you meet your soulmate, it's just not the right time.

In the aftermath of everything, T'Challa sets about proving that he really does want Tony.

Tintype (ao3) - EllOnWheels tony/stephen T, 144k

Summary: Tony meets Stephen Strange in the aftermath of Civil War, and finds common ground with the sorcerer. Stephen, as is his way, ends up finding trouble, and Wong finds this all rather tedious.

Then Tony decides to put himself in charge and save the world.

Wipe Your Tears Away (ao3) - SailorChibi steve/tony T, 121k

Summary: Steve likes taking care of his team. It gives him focus in a confusing new world. But one member of the team never learned that it's okay to be taken care of. Until the night Tony gets a concussion, and his deepest secret - that, when he's absolutely sure he's alone, he likes to role play being a toddler - comes out into the open and affords Steve the perfect opportunity.

#themculibrary #mcu #marvel #masterlists #tony needs a hug #tony needs a hug masterlist

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deprecated240524 · 2 years

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Poke Wars: The Lapidescence (2015-2018) KILL COUNT

ID under cut

Top:

Poke Wars: The Lapidescence

Left:

Welcome to Red Counts Kills, where we tally up the victims in all our favorite media. I’m Redwood Reed, and today we’re looking at Poke Wars: The Lapidescence, the remake of Poke Wars: The Subsistence, the first one I covered in the new format.

For a refresher, and for those who didn’t read Subsistence’s entry, in the Poke Wars universe, every Pokemon has suddenly become lethally powerful overnight, and most of the wild ones have been given a thirst for blood. Society is no match for this change, but there are survivors, who we, of course, follow; in this case, Ash and his Sinnoh companions, Brock and Dawn, and their Pokemon.

Lapidescence is a higher quality fic than Subsistence, with no grammar mistakes to speak of and more though it keeps the love triangle subplot everyone always loves to see. It also changes the plot for Ash’s group going forwards, having them stay in Pallet Town for the time being instead of keeping themselves moving, as Prof. Oak never told Ash to find Gary, a much smarter move than leaving the relative safety of a former town.

It also treats the Pokemon as characters, with some scenes from their perspective, and lots of trauma and guilt for Pikachu. Because of this, and maybe because of Burt’s Hunting Log, which was still ongoing when I started this count, I’ve decided to continue counting Pokemon as kills for the Poke Wars series.

Let’s go ahead and get to the kills!

Right:

I counted 164 kills in Poke Wars: The Lapidescence, placing it in second place for highest kills, just 4 kills behind The Aura is with the Forgotten and 47 ahead of Pokemon MASTER; only counting humans drops it down to just 27 kills, putting it in between the two previous Poke Wars entries we’ve covered in 6th place, 1 kill behind The Coalescence with 28 (including Pokemon) and 12 ahead of The Subsistence with 15 (excluding Pokemon). The kills included 9 male humans, 6 female humans, and 12 unspecified humans, along with 24 male Pokemon, 6 female Pokemon, and 107 unspecified Pokemon.

With a length of 153 thousand words, there’s a kill on average every 933 words.

Golden Chainsaw for Coolest Kill goes to the Fearow that Dawn ferociously stabbed to death to protect her Swinub, ‘cause it’s a young girl ferociously stabbing a superpowered 4-foot 84-pound (1.2 m 38 kg) bird of prey to death to protect her baby pig-mammoth! Fuck yeah, go Dawn!

I have two Dull Machetes for Lamest Kills: The first goes to Ash’s Gliscor, who, after avenging his friend’s death and very nearly saving a woman hanging from an aircraft in the middle of a battle, was collateral damage in the death of Roark’s Onix just a few paragraphs before the chapter ended and he would’ve been left to an ambiguous fate, and the second goes to Tracey’s Venonat, whose offscreen death was mentioned so briefly I missed it at first.

And that’s it! I’ll see y’all next time for The Sun Soul, among the darkest Pokemon fics I care enough about to read. Til then, I’m An Armenian-American Autistic, and this has been Red Counts Kills. Be good people.

#pokemon #fanfiction #kill count

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ao3feed-petermj · 6 months

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Don't Feel Well

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/WMlBXro by noonecaneverknowwhoiam “I can practically hear your brain spinning,” Tony says after a few moments of silence. “Come on, kid, give it to me. I can get you literally anything you want.” Peter hesitates again. He can’t say the words. But he can sign them. He sits up and faces Tony, then darts his eyes two feet to the left, unable to look at him. “Want dad me.” Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Tony’s face fall. “I’m so sorry, bud,” Tony says. “That’s the one thing I can’t get you.” But Peter shakes his head, and looks right at Tony this time. Not in the eyes, but in the face, which tells Tony that what Peter’s about to say is really important. “You dad me,” Peter signs. “Oh,” Tony says, breath catching. “Oh. Yeah, kid, I can be your dad,” he says. Both he and Peter pretend his eyes aren’t filling with water. “I’d love to be your dad.” or Peter wakes up with a sore throat but decides to go to school anyway. But when he gets to the Tower, he's wiped. Avengers family fluff, but especially Irondad. Words: 2292, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/M, Gen Characters: Peter Parker, Ned Leeds, Michelle Jones (Marvel), Happy Hogan, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Friday (Marvel) Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones & Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Pepper Potts, Peter Parker & Steve Rogers, Peter Parker & Natasha Romanov, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts & James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, Happy Hogan & Peter Parker Additional Tags: Sickfic, Sicktember, Whumptober, Febuwhump, Sick Peter Parker, Not Canon Compliant with Movie: Avengers: Infinity War (2018), Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Aunt May Parker & Tony Stark Coparenting Peter Parker, Teen Peter Parker, Peter Parker Gets a Hug, Peter Parker Calls Tony Stark "Dad", Autistic Peter Parker, Neurodiversity, Neurodivergent Peter Parker, Self-Indulgent, My First Fanfic, My First AO3 Post, My First Work in This Fandom read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/WMlBXro

#spideychelle #PeterMJ #petermjane

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generalstarkov · 2 years

Text

special thanks to @sanktnikolais for editing my messy thoughts, i adore you

As a Colombian woman, it really warms my heart to see how many people are loving Encanto—all the positive reactions and the praise the movie has received not only from the critics but from the audience in general make me happy beyond measure. I, as well as pretty much everyone in this country, have always resented the negative representation we have had in the media.

For instance, "Narcos" is one of the best examples of this hurtful representation that continues to profit from some of the darkest moments of recent history, events that we all would like to bury in the past.

Nonetheless, the discourse I have seen about Encanto, especially on Tumblr, has disappointed me greatly. Most people have focused on coming out with headcanons about the characters' sexuality and gender, or writing Camilo x reader fics (do you realize he’s a teenager? please stop) shifting completely the real focus of the movie. Listen, I am not going to tell anyone what to do or to gatekeep these characters. The fact that you think Isabela is a lesbian doesn't bother me; what I'd really like to remind people of, specially queer white folks, is that this movie isn't for you.

This movie was made first and foremost for Colombians and Latinos. Therefore, when a movie like Encanto, which excels in every aspect and has finally given us the representation that we have been dying for, gets its every valuable aspect outshone by these woke and for the most part ridiculous takes (Bruno is autistic bc the knock on wood thing? Tell me you are white without telling me you are white.) It is expected that people like me won't feel happy.

That being said, in this post I want to tell you about the amazing job Disney made at representing the armed conflict in my country and what this representation and the song "Dos Oruguitas" mean for Colombian people.

As expected, when Disney announced Encanto as its 60th animated movie there were two kinds of people: the ones—including me—who couldn't contain our excitement and decided to trust Disney and cross fingers while saying "please don't mess this up"; and the ones who were convinced this would be a silly and stereotypical movie with zero to none cultural accuracy.

I still remember waking up very early the day the first trailer was set to be released and waiting impatiently the whole morning, until it was finally there after two years of waiting, and I couldn't contain the tears. The trailer broke down Colombian twitter, everyone was posting threads with all the references to our culture, the animals, the plants, the clothing, the food, the real places who inspired the movie. Disney had finally done it right this time.

And yet still, some people weren't content. “This isn't Colombia," they would say. “They aren't showing our long history with war and violence..."

This, of course, pissed me off deeply because for the first time we had something to feel proud of, something to show to the world that allowed us to say "this is who we truly are", they expected a war documentary from a children's movie. It was very clear and widely accepted that this movie wouldn't include any references to our violent past and present and that we all should be fine with it, because there are other types of content in which we can explore that on a deeper level; but to everyone's surprise, we were wrong.

Encanto opens up with Abuela telling Mirabel the story of the family's miracle. I saw the movie the day it premiered in my country, I can't remember seeing the cinema so full of people since Avengers Endgame. When Abuela explains how she and abuelo Pedro were forced to flee their home, everyone stopped talking. I'm sure we were all thinking, "Is this really happening? Did Disney just address one of the most painful events of this country?"

And the answer is yes. For the first time Disney decided to reference real life conflicts and not just any conflict, and I can't think of any different or better approach from the one the Encanto team chose.

The armed conflict in Colombia

I am aware that explaining a 70-year conflict in a Tumblr post is extremely difficult, even more to people who aren't citizens of this country. For this reason, I will try to oversimplify things as much as I can to get to the main point of this post. However, I will link some sources in case you want to do your own research, which I encourage you to do.

Over the last 70 years, Colombia has been devastated by the armed conflict. I am absolutely sure that there's no one in this country whose life hasn't been affected in one way or another by it, me and my family included. The Registro Único de Víctimas (RUV) recognizes 9 million people as victims of the different violent incidents that have taken place during the war. This number includes murders, enforced disappearances, kindappings, sexual assaults, massacres, terrorist attacks, tortures, forced recruitments, among other forms of violence. According to El Centro Nacional de Memoria Histórica, between 1958 and 2018, 261.919 thousand people were murdered in the context of the armed conflict.

This is how it started: Violent times in Colombia go back in time as far as 200 years ago, when members of the liberal and conservative parties began hostilities. Most people think that tracing the conflict to the 19th century is an exaggeration, but the truth is that the bipartisan violence never ended, it only shapeshifted and continues to nourish all the future conflict the country would face.

In 1948, Jorge Eliécer Gaitán, the liberal presidential candidante, and the most popular among the people was murdered in the capital. This was a breaking point in history that was followed by a wave of violence that quickly spread to the whole country and lasted until the end of the 50s. This period is known as "La Violencia''.

During this time, a group of peasants of liberal tendencies who had fought during "La Violencia'' and had been forced to flee their homes, settled in Marquetalia with their families, and founded "a free republic" with no loyalty whatsoever to the current government. By 1964 they had a considerable armed force and political power and already had rejected demobilization. As a consequence, the army attacked their settlements, forcing them to flee once more.

This, of course, had the opposite effect since two years later, the FARC (Fuerzas Armadas Revolucionarias de Colombia) were created; the biggest guerilla in Colombia and the principal assailants of the armed conflict. A product of its time, the FARC - the cold war and revolutionary movements in Latin America - they adopted the communist ideology.

At the same time and inspired the Cuban Revolution, the Ejército de Liberación Nacional (ELN) is also established, Years later, other guerillas such as The Ejército Popular de Liberación (EPL), the M-19 would also take part in the conflict.

Around the 80s, the FARC had the objective to take over the government. Simultaneously, the ultra right wing, the army, politicians, landowners and even drug traffickers supported the creation of paramilitary units to fight the FARC and other guerrillas. As expected, this only deepened the violence because the paramilitaries fought the guerrillas but along the way they started murdering people in the country side and social leaders. These events coincide with the peak of drug trafficking in Colombia, which brought more harsh attacks against the people of this country but also money that at some point helped finance both groups.

From that moment on, war has worsened. Think of any violation against human rights and for sure it has been registered during these past 70 years . The majority of victims were civilians, men, women, and children of all ages were murdered, kindapped, raped, conscripted.

No one was spared.

Even after a peace treaty was signed between the government and the FARC, violence does not seem to stop. It is a combination of inequality, corruption, government neglect, a bad distribution of wealth, social injustice and drug trafficking, who continues to finance this very profitable business called war.

How is all of this related to Encanto?

One of the most devastating consequences of war is forced displacement. As I mentioned above, the majority of victims were civilians—specifically from the countryside, the zones the government has neglected for decades—who found themselves in the middle of the relentless violence; they had no choice but to flee their homes leaving all their belongings, their lives behind them except for what they could carry in their backs or hands.

They ran away because they were afraid they would be killed if they didn't, they ran away because their home had become a war zone. They ran away because they were afraid the guerrillas would take their children.

Some of them are “lucky” if you can call that luck, and they can leave before war knocked on their door, while some families weren’t. They didn’t always have a chance to escape. Most of them had seen their husbands, fathers, brothers and sons being killed or tortured in front of their eyes; their wives, daughters, and sisters sexually assaulted. Sometimes they even took one of their relatives and then it was certain they will never know what has become of them.

This is the wounding reality of this country. The more I think about it, the more I realize that it would have been impossible—even ridiculous—if Encanto prided itself on being true to Colombian culture if it hadn't included any reference to the armed conflict. No matter how traumatic and shattering this part of our reality is, it is still ours.

The story of Abuela Alma, a woman who had to flee her home in the middle of the night, with her children in her arms, a wife who saw her husband murdered in front of her eyes. She had to hold on to whatever strength was left inside of her to wake up day after day to raise three children and somehow try to come to terms to the traumatic events that forever changed her is not something that belongs in fiction. The scene when Alma falls down, powerless and helpless as her husband's life is brutally ended in front of her and their children, isn’t there because its purpose is to generate an emotional response in the audience. It is there because it has to be, because it is time the world knows what this country has endured.

This is the story of thousands of mothers, wives, sisters, daughters and all the strong women who somehow have been resilient enough to keep living after having suffered the unspeakable. The generational trauma in the family Madrigal is the heart of this film as much as it is their unconditional and enduring love for each other, as much as it is our music and our vibrant colors, as much as it is our grief but also our resilience.

Disney understood why it was vital to represent all of this in Encanto, and that’s why I cannot just sit here and watch how most people erase the heart of this film, you do not get the right to do it.

Dos Oruguitas

I love my country.

I love my country and I am proud of this blessed land, the second most biodiverse country on earth.

I am proud of our culture, our music, our food, our diversity and all the beautiful details that make us who we are.

I am proud of all the things you got to see and love in Encanto but I won’t lie and say living in the country is the most mesmerizing experience.

Colombia is the second most unequal country in Latin America, the health care system is a disaster, corruption reaches ridiculous standards, people get killed for defending their rights, there are no jobs, not enough opportunities for real progress, and we have one of the most devalued currencies in the region—all of that in the eyes of a government who couldn’t care less about the citizens of this country.

In addition to that and as I mentioned in the first lines of this post, there is no one whose life hasn’t been affected by war and violence. I can count myself lucky, my whole life I have lived in the city, and never got to endure what people in the countryside have gone through. But during the peak of drug trafficking war, when Pablx Escxbar would set car bombs in the cities every now and then, when people were too afraid to set a foot out of their houses, I almost lost my aunt and my dad—he almost died from being crushed by a wall when a car bomb exploded in front of his workplace, and then I wouldn’t be here, writing this post.

We constantly wake up with news of a new massacre somewhere in the countryside and some days it is really hard to find a reason to smile. I won’t pretend a Disney movie can solve all these problems because it really doesn’t. But in the middle of all these tragic events, it gives us—me—a reason to smile.

The Encanto soundtrack was released before the movie, I had heard they were pushing Dos Oruguitas for the academy award for best original song so that was the first song I listened to. I couldn’t stop crying. And even before knowing what scene it would accompany, this song felt like a gift, like a warm embrace that brings hope for a country that needs it desperately and for my people who remain strong and resilient in spite of it all, a country who dares to dream of a better tomorrow.

p.s 1: If you read this far, you are amazing and i love you

p.s 2: When Abuela Alma and Mirabel embrace they are surrounded by yellow butterflies, this is a reference to our nobel prize winner Gabriel Garcia Marquez and his novel “One hundred years of solitude”.

In case you want to read more about the armed conflict:

A more detailed explanation of the armed conflict in Colombia

If you are a spanish speaker, La Comisión de la Verdad released this podcast where victims of the armed conflict tell their stories

An amazing documentary by DW about what has happened in my country after the peace treaty with the FARC:

Some pictures by Jesús Abad Colorado, a photographer who has dedicaded his life to accompany the victims and their grief. The pictures are in black and white, and while they don’t include blood, they could be somewhat sensitive for some people.

Sources

https://www.bbc.com/mundo/noticias-america-latina-37181413

https://www.unidadvictimas.gov.co/es/registro-unico-de-victimas-ruv/37394

https://www.centrodememoriahistorica.gov.co/micrositios/informeGeneral/estadisticas.html

#Encanto #Disney Encanto #isabela madrigal #mirabel madrigal #camilo madrigal #the family madrigal #luisa madrigal #colombia #representation #latin america #my rants #latino representation

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venusianelf · 2 years

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The Young Love Plan

Pairing: Avengers x Autistic! Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Autistic! Reader

Genre: Fluff, Light Angst, Setting People Up to Date Trope

Summary: Being two of the youngest avengers, you and Wanda have clicked over the months since you’ve joined. Tired of your oblivious pining, the team sets up a plan to get you two together.

Warnings: Reader has a meltdown, Tony has a drink, Some light-hearted threatening from Natasha, Gender Neutral Reader, I don’t think there’s any swearing but there might be, A few uses of Y/N

Word Count: ~1,800

Request: Hi! I see you write for Autistic readers. Thank you so for that you have no idea how great it is to finally read something that's like me! Thank you! Can you write a fic where the reader is one of the younger Avengers with a crush on Wanda, and everyone is sort of protective of them? -anon

A/N: солнышко = Sunshine, любимый = love/my love | Wow, this is my first request! Thank you anon for the idea, I hope you like the fic! I wasn’t sure in what way you wanted the team to be protective of them but I hope you like the way I wrote it. I’m kinda surprised how quickly I wrote this but I guess I liked the idea lol. This fic doesn’t have a specific time set for it but it’s just a “everyone’s happy” type AU. Also I know Nat probably wouldn’t drink milk in her coffee but she does in this fic. Gif is from pinterest.

It took a while but you eventually settled into your new surroundings and home at the Avengers Compound. The change in scenery was a bit difficult on you but luckily you had the team to help every bit of the way. The move had also meant lots of changes in your typical routine. Thankfully, everyone was more than happy to help you adjust your old one. Your favorite parts of your new routine were definitely your morning run with Sam and Steve, Friday movie nights with whoever was in the compound, and of course your late-night tea chats with Wanda.

You could go on about Wanda forever. She was the closest in age to you besides Peter. You three made up the “Kiddo Avengers” as the rest of the team put it. Although you kept drifting closer to Wanda than Peter. You two could relate easily between her sensory issues from everyone’s minds being too loud and you having your sensory issues from your autism. Wanda was the first on the team to know about your autism.

You cried as you felt the frustration wash over you. This couldn’t be happening now. They didn’t even know you were autistic yet, how would they react to this? Rocking back and forth as your balled-up fists hit your legs repeatedly, you couldn’t hear the footsteps heading your way. “Y/n?” Wanda asked as you finally registered that someone was next to you. As you looked up towards her, you saw the concern and confusion written on her face. Unable to speak at the moment, you pointed at your head to try to communicate to her that she could read your mind to see what was wrong. As she smiled apologetically she went ahead and checked. When she was done you could tell that she had a better understanding of the situation at hand. “Do you want me to help you rock? Would that help?” She asked as she put her hands between your fists and your legs to prevent you from hurting yourself more.

You nodded as she pulled you closer and began rocking the two of you. “If you need to hit something, hit my chest or squeeze my hands, okay? I don’t want you to hurt yourself Y/N,” She said as she offered you her hands. Taking them and squeezing them as hard as you could, you cried into her shoulder as she began to sing a soft Sokovian lullaby. Once you were calmed down enough Wanda tried to ask you some questions but you were still nonverbal so she decided it would be better if she took you to your room to watch your favorite show.

Over the next couple of months, you slowly told everyone who needed to know about your autism, and you and Wanda developed some hand signals for when you were nonverbal. With Wanda helping you through this adjustment came your ever-developing crush on the redhead. You two spent so much time together that it seemed inevitable to the rest of the team. Whenever you were with someone on the team without her you were always gushing about her. The team thought it was adorable but they were starting to get tired of you both being oblivious to the other’s crush on each other. Which is how the plan came around.

“They need to get a room, I’m honestly getting cavities from their tooth-achingly sweet interactions.” Tony chuckled as he spoke to Sam, Natasha, and Clint. “They're just kids, these things take time for them,” Sam added playfully as Tony poured himself a drink. “Yes, but it’s months. I honestly don’t think they’ll get together unless we do something about it.” Clint adds as Nat begins to smirk. “So let’s get them together then? That will solve this issue, right?” She suggests as Tony points at her and nods his head. “Yes, that’s a great idea! At least someone here other than me has some brain cells.” He laughs as everyone else groans at his ego.

“And how do you propose we go about this?” Sam asks annoyed with his friends meddling in you and Wanda’s love lives. “Tony could throw one of his parties and then they couldn’t help but get together if they’re both dressed to the nines,” Clint suggests to which Natasha shakes her head. “No, that would just overwhelm Y/N.” Nat reminds them. “True, how about we do it during movie night?” Tony suggests taking a sip of his drink. “That could work,” Sam responds being less annoyed by this idea than whatever other crazy ideas they could think of. “And what would make them get together during this movie night rather than all the others?” Clint asks skeptically. “We could make it so the only two seats available when they get there are next to each other. Then we fill in the rest of the team so that way slowly during the movies everyone leaves until it’s just them two. That way there’s no embarrassment for them and they wouldn’t suspect anything,” Tony explains as he gestures with his hands. “That sounds like the best plan,” Nat agrees as Clint and Sam nod their heads.

As movie night came around the group had alerted the rest of the team to the idea. Most everyone agreed to go with it but Steve just shook his head and said he’d sit out on this one. While the team made sure to get there early so the only spots left would be next to each other, you and Wanda were completely unaware of this plan. Wanda and you had been out getting pizza for movie night so as they headed over the team tried their best to contain their giggles and smirks. “Alright guys, we’re back with the pizza!” You cheered as you set it down on the table in front of the team. As everyone got their pizza, Wanda sat down and patted the spot next to her. “Looks like these are the only seats left,” She smiled as you sat next to her and began getting comfy.

Over the course of the movie, the two of you cuddled up closer as you two usually did while the rest of the time slowly but surely left one by one. Halfway through the second movie Wanda realized you two were the only ones left. “Y/N, it appears everyone has dipped on us,” She laughed as you looked around to find it was true. “That’s odd, normally they stay until the third movie at least,” You commented as you cuddled back into her. Stroking your hair she hummed in agreement as you two continued your movie.

As the end credits began playing, you were brought back to reality where you realized you and Wanda were incredibly close. Preparing yourself you looked up at her as she went to change the movie to the next one. “Wanda?” You asked as she brought her attention to you. “Yes, солнышко?” She smiled as she regarded you. “I, um, I like you.” You blurt out and shut your eyes to hide from her. “I like you too, goof.” She chuckled as she started to go back to changing the movie. “No, I mean I like you as like more than a friend.” You mumble quickly to get the embarrassment over with. “Oh,” She smiles as she turns back to you. “I like you like that too,” She says as she leans down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. Beaming to yourself you both turn back to the movie at hand.

With the movie over, Wanda offered to walk you back to your room. Holding hands the whole way back and chatting about the movies. Once you arrived at your door, you two settled into a hesitant silence. “Uh, may I kiss you good night?” Wanda asks nervously, fidgeting with her hands. Nodding you look up towards her and lean in. As her warm breath ghosts over your lips, you feel your giddiness rising. When your lips meet you realize that this feels right and she feels like home. As you part, she tucks some of your hair behind your ear and smiles softly at you. “Good night Wanda,” you smile back. “Good night, любимый,” she says giving your hand a squeeze before heading back to her room.

As per usual the next morning Wanda is in the kitchen making herself and you some tea for breakfast when Natasha comes over and leans on the kitchen counter next to her. “So.. How did last night go?” Nat smirks as she watches the other redhead become flustered. “Uh, movie night? It went well. Where did all of you guys go?” She asks, keeping her focus intently on making her tea. “Are you sure it went just ‘well’?” She teases as she ignores the question. “Yeah, it went well, and why are you dodging my question? That’s suspicious.” Wanda responds a little defensively. “Well, we figured leaving you two alone might get one of you to finally make a move. And judging by what FRIDAY told us, it seemed to have worked.” Nat chuckles as she steals some milk from Wanda for her coffee. “What?! You guys were spying on us?” Wanda asks, shocked and very red. “Well some of us are spies, but no. We just asked FRIDAY if it worked or not. No one wants to watch you lovebirds be sickeningly sweet.” She laughs as she pats Wanda on the shoulder.

“But, should you do anything to hurt Y/N it won’t go very nicely for you,�� She adds as Wanda pales a little. “Hey! Stop threatening Wanda. She wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.” You add as you catch Nat giving her speech to Wanda. Wanda calms down a little when she sees you and uses one of your hand signals for thank you. “I wasn’t threatening her. We just don’t want either of you to get hurt. Plus I was going to give you the speech later too.” Nat laughs as she finishes making her coffee and heads off. With Nat gone, Wanda gestures that she’d like a hug. Stepping closer to her, you pull her into a tight hug and draw circles on her back. “Thank you for that. Natasha can be a bit intimidating.” Wanda laughs dryly as you squeeze her a little tighter. “Don’t worry, she just said that because she’s protective over me. Plus I’m sure she’s worried about you too. She did say she wanted to give me a lecture too,” You laugh as she joins in. Stepping back from your hug, Wanda offers you a cup of tea as you two begin your morning routine together.

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thescarletwitchsapprentice · 3 years

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A Pure Soul (Yandere!Wanda Maximoff x ADD!Autistic!reader)

Summary: Two weeks or so after Wanda arrives at the Avengers’ Place, (y/n) shows up. An autistic Avenger who’s extremely honest and who doesn’t really seem to mind just being by themself, but also is kind and even affectionate to others. Wanda’s smitten by this and does the unthinkable.

Request?: Nope. I’m literally just throwing this out of the back of my head. From the Yandere Starter Prompts list by @yandere-mccree

Prompt: 5. “This world doesn’t deserve an angel like you.”

Warnings: (AOU Spoilers, CACW spoilers, IW spoilers, Endgame spoilers, torture sorta, sleep paralysis mention, ableism, slight manipulation?, kidnapping, mind-breaking mention)

Note: I wanted to try a bit more of a subtle Yandere vibe for Wanda. I’ve never really written one of these, so it might not be as great as I hoped. I don’t encourage or condone the unhealthy aspects.

Word Count: 3,268

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It’s only been a couple of weeks or so after she’d been taken from Sokovia after it was destroyed. Wanda’s still mourning the loss of her brother when you arrive. You're a shy person, not a fan of eye contact, but you do like touch, hugs in particular, as well as head pets.

Wanda doesn’t pay attention to you much at first. You’re just another Avenger to her; a nice change of pace, but that’s all. But then comes Lagos. Wanda now has guilt along with so much trauma. It’s no surprise when you hear her crying in her room one day, the door somehow left open a crack.

“I’m a terrible person,” she says softly, thinking no one heard.

You peek in and catch her with a pillow to her face, weeping. Your heart breaks. You know it’s on her, but she clearly feels terrible. You stand in the doorway until she soon notices you.

“Oh....(y/n),” she says as casually as she can. “Hey.”

“You’re not a terrible person,” you tell her.

She’s shocked to hear this.

“You’re not afraid of me?”

You shake your head.

“Why would I be?”

“I’m too destructive,” she says, sniffling. “You saw what happened in Lagos.”

You enter your room and sit on her bed with her.

“But you’re also very kind,” you point out. “And you’re a good person. You clearly care when you hurt others, and you want to rectify your mistakes. A bad person wouldn’t do that.”

In that moment, you can sense her need for some physical contact. You lean over and give her a hug, rubbing her back.

“I’m glad you’re here, Wanda,” you tell her.

And you are. You truly are. Even if you don’t know her well, you’ve heard her talk a few times, and she’s a breath of fresh air. Most of the Avengers tend to be a bit loud and sometimes a bit insensitive, but not Wanda. Wanda’s extremely sensitive to others’ feelings and tends to be a quiet person. It’s something you need. Her accent is also soothing to you for some reason, not to mention she’s beautiful.

You let her cry on your shoulder for a few hours, even humming to her a bit. Then it’s dinnertime and you’re called to the kitchen. That’s when something in Wanda changes. You, an Avenger who barely knows her, aren’t afraid of her; in fact, you’re glad that she’s here. She also doesn’t know you all that well, but she’s seen some acts of kindness you’ve done for her and the other Avengers, even when you thought no one was watching. And she heard your thoughts when you were hugging her, all wonderful things about her, how you wish she could see how amazing she is, how beautiful she is.

At that moment, her heart melts. How can someone with such a sweet and pure soul like you exist? How could someone so....perfect exist? It’s a ray of sunshine in her heart, making her forget about the guilt and trauma, even if only for a few moments. Your presence is exactly what she needs. And she needs more of it.....

===================================

At first it starts off simple and small; making an effort to see you more often, running into you in the compound, smiling at you, making conversation. And honestly, there’s something about Wanda you can’t quite shake off. She does make your heart flutter; sometimes you get shy around her or even blush. It’s adorable and it’s something that only makes her more fond of you.

She discovers you’re autistic when the lights of the compound are too bright one time. The second she notices how anxious you are after Tony turns on the lights before getting his coffee in the other room, she immediately turns them down for you, and she’s the first person you tell.

“I’m touched that you trust me enough to confess this,” she tells you with a few tears in your eyes.

Wanda asks you what other things you like or dislike, things that give you sensory overload and things that help you calm down. She asks you about your experiences as an autistic person. You’re touched by how considerate she is, and even confess to her about your ADD, or Inattentive ADHD, as they call it now. She also asks about that, but does her best to take it a little at a time so that you’re not overwhelmed with questions.

What you don’t know is that she already knows all of this, having telepathy and all; she wants to hear it from you so that it doesn’t come off as creepy. She also loves to hear your voice. It’s like music to her ears, music that eases her stresses and trauma, even if only temporarily.

Then she starts to make some more effort, actively implementing what she knows and paying attention to things you say and do, so that she knows what she can do or say without it being suspicious. Wanda wants the relationship to move as naturally as possible. You’re her precious angel, and she doesn’t want to scare you. And she won’t unless it’s inevitable or of absolute necessity.

Wanda buys a bunch of fidgets and other sensory things for you to try, keeping in mind what you’ve told her. But also throwing in some “close guesses,” meaning things she knows but that you haven’t told her, things close to what you’ve told her. She can easily pass it off as just “having a hunch,” as long as it doesn’t happen too often.

Though she wants it to be as natural as possible, she occasionally uses her powers on you; nothing too severe at first. Just sending little suggestions to your mind; she’s told you a few of her favorite things, so she’ll base those suggestions off of that. One of the first suggestions is why not ask her how to make paprikash? She suggests that the two of you make it together and you agree. You’re not big on spice, but there’s some sweet paprika as a substitute. And it’s not as spicy as you think, but it’s delicious.

Sometimes Wanda sends a suggestion to get you going on a rant on one of your Special Interests; it’s both a chance for her to “get to know you more,” but mostly because she adores hearing you speak about what you love; she especially loves seeing that twinkle in your eyes and she loves seeing your face light up. It’s one of the most precious things to her, seeing you so happy. She wants to cherish every single second of it.

Though you’re nervous about it, suggestions of humming or singing to her pop into your mind. You give into them fairly often, mostly later on in the relationship. She tells you about how beautiful your voice really is, which gets you shy and blushing. It’s so endearing to her, seeing her sweet little sunbeam being so cute without even trying.

When you come back from a battle, Wanda checks to make sure you’re okay as soon as possible. She volunteers to patch you up to the best of her ability, and she soon becomes the person you first think of when you need first aid or care after a battle.

Then Wanda decides to take it a little further; her room in the compound is next to yours. She stands outside of your door, waiting for you to go to sleep, before opening the door a tad and sending in sweet dreams. If there’s one thing she despises, it’s seeing her sweet little angel upset, and this assures that it won’t happen.

Next she sends little dreams with her in it; first only small appearances, but then she becomes apparent little by little until she ends up being the focus of many of them. Of course she’ll throw in miscellaneous dreams here and there, just to make sure you don’t get suspicious.

Then comes Wanda’s biggest suggestion to you; you two have gotten so close over the past few months, why not ask her to be your girlfriend? It only makes sense. You still feel those butterflies in your stomach, you two both have amazing chemistry, and you both are very close. At this point, you don’t question it. You’re just nervous to ask, as you’ve never been in a relationship before. Of course the nervousness is also slightly part of the suggestion, more on a subconscious level. It’s not enough to make you panic; just enough to make you shy when asking her. And of course, you are. You end up stammering a little, blushing a bit. She fondly assures you that it’s okay to feel this nervousness, and happily accepts being your girlfriend.

===============================

Now that you two are a couple, her next suggestion for you is to give into those affectionate feelings you have when cuddling with her. She loves the warmth you bring. Wanda didn’t think you could get any cuter, and yet she’s a full-on puddle when you cuddle with her. You’re just so sweet and Wanda can’t help but feel protective over you.

Others begin to notice you opening up more and they start making conversation with you. Of course Wanda’s listening to their thoughts to make sure they’re not interested in going further than a friendship with you. Friends are okay for her, and she’s very excited inside when you make a new friend, as she knows that making friends doesn’t exactly come naturally to you. However if it ever gets to anything past that, she’d have to take action. One does express interest in you, and that doesn’t sit well with Wanda. This person doesn’t deserve such a sweet angel, let alone her sweet little angel. Something must be done.

That night, after sending you sweet dreams, she sneaks over to their place and hides just outside of their bedroom door. She’s able to track their brain activity, so she knows when they’ve gone to sleep. Once they do, she sends them their worst nightmares, ones that paralyze them in their sleep out of fear. The next day, you don’t see them at their usual time. You figure maybe they’re sick or they overslept. In the meantime, she’s there to keep you company. It happens on and off with them for some odd reason.

If it’s one of the Avengers taking an interest in you, Wanda ensures that the two of you don’t get too close. If you go on a mission and need a partner, Wanda steps up. It’s not really a surprise to them, with her being your girlfriend and all. She glares at the Avenger who’s showing interest, letting them know to stay back.

=========================================

And then shit hits the fan.

You come back to the compound in tears one night and Wanda’s the first one at your side.

“(Y/N), what happened?” she asks worried.

You tell her about how you ran into someone who said that autism is a disease that needs to be cured and that you shouldn’t exist because you’re a burden on society. Wanda doesn’t leave your side that night. You need someone there for you. Externally she’s supportive and loving. But internally, she’s both heartbroken and fuming as she looks through the memory. A fire storms inside of her. How dare they tell such a sweet and pure soul like you that they’re a burden! How dare they say her sweet angel has a disease that needs to be cured! Wanda knows that autism has its challenges, but also its upsides. It’s not anything that needs a cure. It’s a part of your identity. She will NOT let this slide. Not even a little.

After cuddling with you, and sending extra-special sweet dreams that night, Wanda finds the place of the person who told you this. Wanda sneaks into their bedroom and induces their worst nightmares, along with a dose of sleep paralysis. She uses her telekinesis to throw objects around the room and even at them. She uses her power to make them choke. Her grief and anger only amplifies the severity. It’s satisfying to her to hear them scream, plead, beg for mercy, to see them so helpless, knowing what they said to her precious angel. She keeps doing this to them until they’re completely broken, even going back multiple nights, just to make sure they’re gone for good.

You don’t hear from them until you find out that they’ve become completely catatonic. Part of you still feels bad for them for some reason, but you don’t know why.

“You have nothing to feel bad about, (Y/N),” Wanda assures you when you bring this up with her. “Their guilt probably just got the best of them. C’mon, how about we get some lunch together?”

Wanda’s got your back and more for the next few days. And then Tony locks her in her room, and you’re infuriated. He just sees her as a weapon and not a person. In spite of their attempts to convince you to come along on missions, you decide to stay back and keep Wanda company, to make her confinement more bearable.

The two of you both fight Tony together, end up in the Raft, and escape together, living away from the compound. Then comes the war. You’re the one dusted and Wanda survives. Those five years without you are hell to her. She spirals back into grief, guilt, and trauma, blaming herself for not being able to save you. Thank God for Bruce Banner. In 2023, he brings you back. The second Wanda finds this out, she rushes for you, her eyes filled with tears, and you’re just as relieved to see her. Your warmth sparks a sense of purpose back into her. After you died and were brought back to life, to her you’re truly an angel now, and she refuses to let an angel be harmed. She’s reluctant to let you fight, but she tells you as long as you stay by her, it should be fine.

Tony sacrifices himself to save you all from Thanos. The second the funeral is over, you decide to take a nap. Wanda gently grabs you and takes you to a remote location; a cottage in the middle of the woods on an island. Those five years without you and then suddenly having you back sent her protective instincts into overdrive. She decides that she can’t let anyone or anything hurt you anymore. She’s lost her parents and her brother. She can’t lose you. She won’t lose you.

When you come to, you’re shocked about where you are.

“H-huh?”

Sitting up you begin to panic when you hear a familiar voice.

“Good! You’re awake.”

The smell of paprika hits your nose as you see her face, a sweet smile upon it.

“W-wanda?”

She brings over a plate of chicken paprikash.

“What do you think, (y/n)?” she asks.

“Of what?”

She gives a little giggle.

“Of our new home, of course.”

Your heart jumps in your chest.

“New home?”

Wanda sets down the food on a nearby table, and sits next to you on the bed you’ve been placed in.

“(Y/N), I.....those past five years....”

“Must’ve been horrific,” you say, still in shock.

She nods.

“And I wish I could’ve saved you.”

She gently takes ahold of your hands.

“And now that you’re back....I’m scared to lose you. I want us to be together forever.”

Your face flushes, and you glance away. She giggles a little and gently guides your face back up to her.

“My sweet (y/n), you’re too adorable,” she tells you.

Your eyes meet the bridge of her nose, and she doesn’t make you look at her eyes. She knows eye contact can be hell for you.

“I’ve missed this energy so much; I’ve missed your kind-hearted nature, your beautiful voice, your wide and innocent eyes, that cute little button nose, you cuddling up close to me. I’ve set everything in this cottage up just for you. I want you to be as comfortable and happy as possible here.”

“Where exactly are we, though?” you ask.

“Somewhere where you’ll never be hurt again. I’ll ensure that.”

This set off a slight red flag, and you panic a little.

“We couldn’t have just moved to a house in the suburbs or maybe a house in Greece?”

She shakes her head as she pets yours, something that absolutely gives you butterflies.

“No. This world doesn’t deserve an angel like you, sweet (y/n). You have such a pure soul-you are a pure soul-and the world outside will only hurt you. Sweet and innocent people, especially at your age, are very rare. They’re like diamonds; real diamonds. They’re extremely difficult to find, but once you do, they’re a treasure that needs to be protected. I want to be that for you. I want to protect you, keep you safe, love you and care for you. This cottage, this island, it can become a whole new world. At least give it a try? For me? Please?”

You want to say no, right? You’re not sure. It feels like something inside of you is at war, but one side is winning. Wanda’s clearly relieved to have you, and you’ve loved her for a long time now as she’s loved you for a long time now. You feel comfortable around her too. Perhaps a little protection might not be the worst idea. At the very least, a trial run wouldn’t hurt.

You nod.

“Okay, I’ll give it a go.”

Wanda hugs you close and gives you a small peck on the cheek.

“Thank you, my sweet (y/n)! Thank you.”

The two of you have dinner together and then watch a few sitcoms before you cuddle up in bed as Wanda softly sings you a Sokovian lullaby, your head lying near her shoulder. As you drift off to sleep, Wanda watches you endearingly. What you don’t know is that you’re going to enjoy being here. She’d love it if it’s on your own terms, but if you start to seem distant, she won’t hesitate to use her magic to send some suggestions. Maybe it’s to prompt you to ask her to include or remove or change something, or even to enhance your joy for the little things. Extreme worst-case scenario? She’ll plague you with a few nightmares, ones that’ll show you how dangerous the outside world is without her, but it will pain her to do so. Expect a lot of cuddling and kisses from her when you wake up in tears in the hopes of making things better. And she makes sure they do. All she wants is for you to stay and be happy and safe with her.

And even if you wanted to leave, it’s doubtful that even with your powers, you’ll get past the barrier Wanda’s put up. It’s doubtful that you’ll even get that far. It’s a big island after all. Big and deserted. She wants to give you enough space, but not too much. Just enough to make you happy. If you somehow find it, Wanda will make sure you’ll forget finding it. She’ll fill in the gaps with something else so that it doesn’t seem suspicious. It’s not surprising that she knows how to deal with so many outcomes; she’s had five years to think it over, after all, just in case you came back.

But none of that matters right now. All that matters is that she has you, her precious angel, and you’ll be hers forever one way or the other.

#yandere marvel #marvel #yandere!wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x autistic!reader #yandere!wanda maximoff #yandere avengers #Avengers #scarlet witch #yandere!scarlet witch #yandere x reader #avengers x you #avengers x reader #avengers imagine #autistic fanfics #dark!wanda maximoff #dark!wanda maximoff x reader

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lene-loki · 3 years

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MARVEL Masterlist

MATT MURDOCK

SERIES

Hold Me Ever since you experienced abuse in a past relationship you're having issues to let people get close to you. That is until you find yourself falling head over heels in love with Matt Murdock. In the process of searching for the strength to open up to him, old wounds get torn open. Prologue

IMAGINES

Being Loved Requested: Could you write a fluffy story about Henry (or Matt Murdock) of reader reading to him after a long day * your pick of the two *

Talk too much Requested: "Hi it's me again I would like to request a matt fic where say Karen or Marci (love them both) makes a comment on how reader talks to much and then the reader is quiet for a good few days , then Matty boy comes to the rescue to make reader feel better"

STEVE ROGERS

SERIES

Ocean Eyes There is one last Hydra base located underwater that the Avengers are determined to paralyze. They’re about to discover a new species. Part 1

IMAGINES

Everything Has It's Order (Y/N) is an autistic agent at S.H.I.E.L.D and has organized her whole life according to her own system. Until someone brings chaos into her routine.

BUCKY BARNES

SERIES

Wicked Game After fixing the boat, Bucky decides to stay with Sam and his sister in Louisiana. Soon, Bucky and Sam are forced to get a job since being Avengers doesn't pay the rent so they reluctantly start to work as waiters at the local Country Club. A young beauty who plays tennis with her father everyday on the court catches Bucky's attention immediately. (Y/N) isn't dancing to nobody's tune and does whatever she wants. And right now all that she wants is to mess with Bucky. Chapter One

IMAGINES

Never Too Close After the events of Avengers: Endgame, (Y/N) Romanoff is mourning the death of her sister Natasha. She is unexpectedly finding comfort in the presence of someone who shares the pain of losing the people he loved.

Code Blue At a time where Bucky Barnes' mind still belonged to the Winter Soldier, he subconsciously hurt a lot of people - including (Y/N). Now he is faced with the guilt of her severe injury.

PETER PARKER (TOM HOLLAND)

SERIES

Circles (Y/N) is addicted to a certain medicine and goes too far for a new bottle when she can't pay the drug dealer. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

TOM HIDDLESTON

SERIES

Low Key Writing on a script for a new movie project, Tom Hiddleston struggles on writing the female perspective. He decides to talk to a real prisoner since the movie takes place in a jail. The young woman sitting behind bars is taking up Tom’s entire mindspace and he discovers her story to be much more interesting than his fictional script. And soon he’s determined to get her out of there. Part 1

#marvel #marvel imagine #marvel comics #mcu imagine #mcu fanfiction #mcu spoilers #mcu #spider man #peter parker #bucky barnes #winter solider #steve rogers #captain america #loki laufeyson #loki #tom hiddleston #chris evans #sebastian stan #tom holland

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comfortmarvelimagines · 4 years

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You are Home, and Home is Safe

heyhey ! deciding to just get it over with and post this tonight (for those of you who don’t know what i’m talking about, a post explaining can be found here. side note, please be nice in my inbox, its been rough getting some of those comments). i am, however, going to continue to tag autistic!reader fics with #whenyoucantfindthequiet and #wycftq, so they’re easier to find. hope it’s what you’re after, nonnie, and i’m so so sorry it took so long !!

features : autistic!reader x mama!nat, lowkey asshole Tony Stark (it’s okay i didn’t make him really mean, just kinda well-meaning but misplaced/ mistimed)

warnings : uhhh i guess meltdowns, some self-injurious behaviour

Words are hard. Always have been, always will be.

You haven't always had a family. For years you were passed from foster home to foster home, with a consistent message: you were too much. Your needs were too high, your behaviour too confusing, your struggles too much to deal with. It got to a point where you began to question yourself, your diagnoses and trauma, wondering if it was all in your head or for attention like you were told over and over.

That changed when you met Nat.

It wasn’t immediate of course. There was the initial period of complete and total distrust, of another stranger whose life you were thrust into the middle of, floundering and drowning with no support. There was shutdown after shutdown. The trauma of being ignored and punished for meltdowns meant that you’d learned to internalise. You barely ate, and didn’t speak. But Nat met you where you were, unwaveringly. Was always calm, composed, voice level. Kept food out on the kitchen bench at all times, figuring out your safe foods and keeping them stocked. Realised you liked small enclosed spaces and stocked your bedroom with beanbags, pillows, stuffies and blankets, a permanent blanket fort taking up residence in the living space. Perhaps the most wonderful was her commitment to listening to you, with or without words. The superspy was quick to recognise your shutdown states from body language alone and responded quickly, with two option questions and the request to tap the hand of the answer you wanted.

You almost wanted to feel embarrassed, humiliated, of the accommodations she made so immediately. But she always spoke to you conversationally and never in an infantilizing tone, like so many before her, and the trust you held for her grew. It didn’t always grow in a way that you felt was positive, though. As weeks passed you felt your shutdowns turn into meltdowns and silence into frustrated screams. You didn’t want to hurt her. You didn’t want to feel ungrateful or angry or like any of this was on purpose but somehow she knew. As she held you close after each one she reminded you that your body was unlearning trauma, that you were safe, that you were loved so fully and unconditionally and nothing, including meltdowns, would change that. The way she held you felt like home.

But no one else was like Nat. Social workers were condescending, school was overwhelming, nowhere was safe. So you stuck to Nat. It wasn’t long after you were placed with her that she pulled you out of school, realising that they were doing more harm than good, and she was always there for homeschool. Not looking over your shoulder, but present. You could hear her humming through the walls, or swearing as she dropped a spoon into a pot of soup on the stove again, and it was comforting. It wasn’t the apartment that was home, per say, but having a parent made it feel like one. If she went to the grocery store or a walk in the park you came with, ear defenders on, clinging to her sleeve for safety. She told you that she loved you a million times a day, until one day you said it back.

Words came easier after that. Simple things, like asking what’s for breakfast, became routine. It wasn’t just Nat softly illuminating the cramped space with hummed melodies and occasionally vulgar language but you as well, asking for help with homework or explaining a meme. It felt normal, comfortable, okay. The outside world was too much, but inside your home, the anxiety all but melted from your throat.

You never wanted to leave safety. You wanted to feel it all the time. It was warm and sweet and heavy but in a calm way, like a weighted blanket sinking into your joints. It started as a one-time-thing, after a particularly rough meltdown, but you started sleeping in Nat’s bed. It just felt… right. The panic that set in when Nat left the room and you didn’t know where she was going or what she was doing or if she was ever going to come back was so all-consuming and nauseating that going to sleep alone, in another room, unable to hear her was torturous. What if she abandoned you, gone in the night, social worker beckoning you on to the next uncaring couple, crowded foster family or group home? This way, when you woke at 2am from a nightmare, the first thing you heard was her even breathing. Home. Safe.

***

Tony Stark was something else. Nat eventually started to transition back to work, and, as being homeschooled permitted, brought you with her. Even in classified meetings where you weren’t allowed in you sat in corridors and made sure you could see her red braid through the frosted glass, glancing up from your laptop every few seconds to make sure she didn’t disappear while you wrote your English critique. The rest of Nat’s colleagues (it felt too weird to just casually refer to them as the Avengers and co) didn’t mention your presence, at least in front of you; it was as if they didn’t know what to say or how to say it. Not that you’d say anything back. Outside of the safety of home it was like the anxiety disconnected your brain from your throat, anything you wanted to say cut off before it reached your tongue. It was frustrating. The first few days ended in meltdowns when you reached the apartment and it felt weird and strange and almost like you were two different people but an all-round embarrassment of a child. It was weeks before things settled into a routine and a pattern of acknowledged non-acknowledgement. A pattern Stark ignored.

You were sitting at the island bench in the communal kitchen, drinking chocolate milk and typing out an assignment, when you heard both Nat and Tony heading down the hall towards you. They’d just come out of a meeting, you sitting watch outside the whole time, and Nat had sent you to the kitchen to wait for her while she headed upstairs with Tony to drop off some paperwork to an intern. You hadn’t thought much of it. Sure, you didn’t like being away from Nat at all, but if she was clear in where she was going and how long she was going for (provided it was only a short period), you did okay. It was okay, until you heard the discussion from down the hall.

“Damn, Nat, is that the longest you’ve been away from the kid?”

“No.”

“C’mon, Nat. I know the kid’s been through some shit, but this isn’t healthy. For either of you. What happens if you can’t get out of the mission next time? They’re gonna have to be away from you at some point. You can’t be in this line of work with a barnacle of a kid.”

You’d heard enough. As the topic changed and they entered the kitchen, you didn’t look up from your laptop in greeting.

***

Too much. Too clingy. Too anxious, too needy, too autistic, too much. You needed separation. Give Nat space. Of course she needed to work. The world needed her, and they didn’t need you tagging along. When you got home that night, you headed straight to your room. Buried yourself in the mountain of blankets and stuffies and waited until Nat came to check on you, facing the wall, feigning sleep. You doubt you fooled the former spy but nonetheless, she left you be, a whispered “I love you” hanging in the air as she creaked the door close behind her.

It was seconds before you broke. It felt like choking. All of the fear that was slowly reduced to an ebbing tide through months of living in a caring environment crashed on you like the mother of all tsunamis, saltwater running down your cheeks and into your mouth as if smothering all the words you wished you could scream. It lasted for hours and hours and it was relentless, painful, as if your heart was being ripped out and an empty throbbing numbness was expanding in its place. You were too much. Too much. Too much.

Nat stood outside your door at the time when she’d usually be gently waking you up, watching you unfurl and stretch yourself out of the cocoon of blankets you slept in every night. She knew something was wrong from lunch yesterday, and your isolation from her was concerning. She figured you needed space, but the sleep she knew was an act sat at the back of her mind and bugged her all night long. Even with that nagging suspicion that something was up, nothing prepared her for the way her heart sank when she came in and saw your body curled up, eyes red and barely open from exhaustion, pillow and face damp from tears.

She was at your side in seconds. Your resolve to cut yourself off melted at the sight of her open arms, safe, warm, home. And immediately your body melted. Hands running through your hair, the promise that you were safe, loved, worthy of support, the request to “tell me next time, please, you don’t need to deal with this on your own.”

For some reason, those were the words that broke out the first sounding sob in the 12 hours of silent crying. It was so loud and gut-wrenching and it almost didn’t feel like it came from you at all and it was such a weird feeling, and all of a sudden you were scratching at your arms to try and re-embody yourself and Nat was breathing calmly and deeply and gently rubbing your shoulders until you found yourself easing back into your physicality.

“Did you hear what Stark said yesterday?”

And just like that she figured it out, of course she did, because she’s a trained spy and that’s her job, to put the pieces together and slot the narrative into place. And god, were you grateful, because you couldn’t see yourself stringing sentences together to accuse none other than Iron Man himself of triggering waves of hurt just by stating what you’d convinced yourself was the truth. She was quick to reassure. You are loved, you are wanted, you are always welcome and will always be her child and what you need will always come first. The warm safety settled itself in your belly and you let the tiredness wash over you, drifting on a life raft of whispered Russian lullabies and Nat’s hand rubbing circles on your back. At peace.

Of course, you’d never tell Nat, but hearing her whisper-yell at Tony over the phone for being an insensitive dick was possibly one of the best moments of your life.

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aquilacalvitium · 2 years

Text

I posted 18,242 times in 2021

78 posts created (0%)

18164 posts reblogged (100%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 232.9 posts.

I added 1,030 tags in 2021

#movie thread - 515 posts

#avengers: age of ultron - 73 posts

#pirates of the caribbean: the curse of the black pearl - 70 posts

#aquila thinks - 64 posts

#rogue one - 61 posts

#pokemon: mewtwo strikes back - 55 posts

#wandavision spoilers - 55 posts

#shang-chi - 46 posts

#wandavision - 46 posts

#howl's moving castle - 45 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#megamind also went extra and focused more on the presentation than anything else and if that doesn't command respect i don't know what does

My Top Posts in 2021

Regarding Robin's extremely brave coming out

(If you are unaware, see his recent tweet)

If I see even one of you misgendering or being otherwise transphobic or bigoted towards him, you will be catching these hands.

He is allowed to express his gender however he feels comfortable, and that includes still using he/him pronouns.

If you think otherwise, I suggest you educate yourself on gender identity and gender expression immediately.

He is still the same person we've grown to love and appreciate over the years, and I expect to see SO MUCH love and support that we'll knock his socks off. I WILL be blocking any transphobes on site.

121 notes • Posted 2021-02-20 18:03:27 GMT

I love them, your honour

127 notes • Posted 2021-11-05 00:59:10 GMT

I saw @prof-peach's post about their little world of pokemon and decided to add my own character. Although it's really just me as a pokemon trainer, haha!

I fully intended to only make a character sketch at first but the idea of a little pokemon cafe was just such a lovely idea to me, that I ended up spending around nine hours on a full scene!

(background traced from https://furnitureroots.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/08/Modern-Cafe-Counter-3.jpg)

My inability to draw humans meant I drew my character as a furry, which is really the only thing I'm capable of drawing.

Since this character is essentially a stand-in for myself, they have the same name, legacy. And the pokemon are two of my own pokemon from my team on Shield. Shade the zorua and Mako the garchomp. It's hard to tell, but Mako is shiny.

Legacy's job is a barista at the cafe where Mako also helps out. Shade just kind of sits around and provides cuddles to anyone who wants them.

Their team also includes:

Shadow - zoroark

Squiggles - mimikyu

Astor - shiny zeraora

Silver - melmetal

All together, the pokemon make a really strong team, but Legacy doesn't tend to battle much. They spend most of their off-work time just sitting with their pokemon or getting to know the other pokemon on the island.

137 notes • Posted 2021-07-01 22:21:31 GMT

Reasons why I love Wakko Warner

Okay first of all... he baby

But the main reason is

☆•.°¤▪︎SELF PROJECTION ▪︎¤°.•☆

This child is 100% autistic in almost every way I'm autistic.

He stims. In so many episodes:

In La La Law he's seen flapping his hands about. In Ups and Downs he's seen bouncing and pulling on his ears while repeatedly saying "candy". In Who Donut (reboot) he's seen jumping about on all fours out of excitement. There's definitely more but these are the examples I can remember right now.

One could also argue that his tongue constantly hanging out of his mouth is another form of stim, and actually something I started doing not too long before watching the show and have started doing a lot more since.

He misunderstands things often:

In Dezanitised, he takes Otto's questions literally ("What's on your mind?" My hat.) and seems genuinely confused when Otto gets frustrated. In Dollar Store, he keeps asking how much items are, despite being told multiple times that everything is a dollar and then takes that to mean that everything collectively is one dollar and clears out the entire store, leaving just one dollar as payment.

He experiences emotional extremes:

In Chalkboard Bungle when Mrs Flamiel gives him an F, he immediately becomes outraged. In Who Donut (again) he appears to have a mild meltdown over his missing doughnuts, which are supposedly his safe food (?).

On the opposite end of the spectrum, he can also show almost no emotional reaction to a situation. In Ups and Downs (again) he recognises that the lift is stuck and even suggests calling for help, but shows zero signs of distress or concern.

He has comfort items:

Obviously his hat. He is almost never seen without it! And, as mentioned before, doughnuts are quite possibly his safe food, as he gets a lot more excited about the idea of doughnuts than almost any other food. In Hooray For North Hollywood, Wakko's liquorice habit is mentioned a handful of times, suggesting that it is another safe food of his.

He mirrors:

This is one I do slightly less, but I'm gonna write it down anyway. When he has nothing to do, Wakko appears to mirror people around him. The most notable example of this is, once again, in Ups and Downs (this episode is a really good reference for his autistic traits). While standing in the moving lift, Wakko starts copying Scratchansniff. Checking his watch, muttering, sniffing, coughing and crossing his arms.

Finally, autistic people tend to have different experiences with gender than neurotypicals:

I realise this one is just a headcanon, and in the canon of the show Wakko is still a boy. But here's my argument...

Wakko's a he/him nonbinary because I said so.

228 notes • Posted 2021-01-04 13:51:23 GMT

I'm trying to learn how to draw mewtwo, so I sketched out @xxtc-96xx's Huey!

340 notes • Posted 2021-07-17 22:33:41 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #haha all but one of my most used tags are related to movie threads #also wow that crap drawing got a lot of notes #i do not like that drawing

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imaginesmai · 4 years

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Peter Parker - Autistic Love

I don’t know where I read that comic! Peter is autistic, and I fell in love with the idea. I think superheroes can also be human, and suffer from this type of conditions. So here it is, my humble fic about Autistic! Peter. Probably is not the best, and I tried to make it as accurate as possible with the little knowledge I have about autism. Enjoy!

Plot: there is something weird about Peter, but that doesn’t make him any less lovable.

Honestly, it wasn’t that noticeable. You couldn’t have known it the first time you met him, neither the second or the third. It took a lot of attention, or in your situation a huge crush, to notice it. The fidgeting when he thought no one was looking, the awkwardness not only around your classmates but also in the supermarket. You had thought that the bouncing movements were because of his anxiety, and that his constant blabbering about nothing was fear of silence. If you thought about it, it was all noticeable, and anyone could have picked up that Peter Parker was different. His classmates thought about him as a strange kid who didn’t have many friends. And it took you longer than what you wanted to admit that it wasn’t the truth.

First time you noticed, was when you were paired up in a mission together. You had to stop a mugging in a central bank, something easy for a boy who could stick to the ceiling and a girl who could control electricity.

“Okay, so, you remember the plan?” you asked softly, hidden in one of the vents conductors. You were ready to step up any second then, the wristbands that prevented you from using your electricity laying in the ground.

Peter was suited up beside you, and when he didn’t answer you turned to look at him. In his hands, laid a small cord of your suit, blue and black. It was hanging loose from your hip, long enough so that Peter could have taken it without realising that it was yours, or for you to notice that he had it. His fingers were twisting and untwisting it quickly, and he was looking ahead of you.

“U-um, Peter?”

Trying to understand what had him looking so concentrated, you looked to where he had his eyes fixed, and saw one of the thieves playing with a gun. He was tapping it on a desk, following some weird rhythm that had him moving his head. The rest of them were taking the money out of the safe-deposit and watching over the hostages, some civilians and two workers. Still, Peter didn’t care about them; only about the slightly misplaced rhythm that was making his head hurt.

You worried that something might had happened to him, so you made your first mistake with the cute brown haired boy; that led you to notice that something was off with him.

“Hey, Peter, I can do it-“

The hand that you had placed on his shoulder was quickly thrown off, and he stumbled away from you. You didn’t have time to think about that, though, because as soon as he moved from his place, the whole structure came crashing down and your cover was blown away.

That day, you finished the work neatly and even got to spend a few hours with Peter watching a film. Though he was distant and reluctant at being close to you. As you went to sleep that night, you wondered if the spider boy had more secrets to hide.

After the first time, you found yourself in the same situation more times. It made you wonder if Peter suffered from any type of abuse, but other than the usual teasing at school, you found none. You let it pass by until the second incident happened.

An habit that Peter had that made you wonder if he even wanted to be in the same room as you.

You had just reached the compound after an stressing day in high-school. Probably, it had to do with the fact Peter wasn’t there, and without him you didn’t like listening to boring teachers. The usual smile that you wore came back to your face when you saw him sitting cross legged in front of his notebook.

Tony had told you that the boy wasn’t feeling well, and had decided to stay home for a few days. So, as carefully as you could, you sat on the couch in front of him and called his name.

“Hey Pete” you said, heart jumping when your eyes met. “I-Tony told me that you were sick, and I… was wondering if you felt any better?”

“Yeah” he mumbled, looking back down to his homework. Just then, you noticed the earbuds that were still on. Your frowned when he made no intention of taking them off to keep the conversation with you, but didn’t mind it since you were too excited about finally being with him. A day without Peter was the worst of your pains.

“What are you doing?”

Usually, that question led to a whole speech about chemistry, robotics or whatever he was working on. Peter loved to talk about his homework, even more if the person who was listening showed a real interest; and since Tony pointed that when he noticed your crush on his ‘kid’, you tried to do so. That time, Peter gripped harder his pencil.

“Stuff”

“Oh” you chuckled awkwardly, your smile dropping a bit. “What kind of stuff? I bet really smart one”

Peter didn’t bother to answer that time, only came back to his previous sentence, almost tearing the paper apart with how hard he was pressing the pencil on it. It was silent for a second until you realised he wasn’t answering you question. Moving your disappointment to the back of your mind, you tried again.

“School was boring without you” you told him. “I’m trying to finish the physics project on my own, but I don’t really understand the entropy or the microstates of it. Maybe you could help me? I’ve tried with Ned, but he’s as clueless as I am, so…”

In Peter’s brain, your words were nothing but a distant and annoying buzz. He had stayed in the compound because his senses had gone mad the previous night. He had begged Tony not to tell you anything, too embarrassed for not being able to function properly. Only imagining you looking at him with a frown and backing away like everyone did made his anxiety worse, and he found himself opening and closing his hands.

He knew that he should have just taken the object that he so carefully hid on his pencil case; once again, you were there and he was too embarrassed about it. So he tried to control himself until it was too much, and he screwed it even though he didn’t want to.

“Shut up!” Peter shouted when you let out a loud laugh, his hands flying to his hair and tugging sharply. His eyes became glossy and he wished he was back in his room.

“Yeah” was all you could say, too astonished. “Yeah, I’m sorry, I was just excited because I didn’t see you today and-“

You hadn’t seen Peter move so fast in his life. The pencil fell to the floor with a thud and his feet touched the ground a second after, running out of the living room without looking back. The sound of his door closing took you out of your haze, and you couldn’t stop the lump in your throat.

The first tear rolled down your cheek as you were sitting in the couch, and by the time you were buried under the safety of your covers, you had no more tears to share.

The third time something like that happened was on your first ‘date’. Actually, you had just gotten your first salary with the avengers work and you both wanted to do something together. Actually, you wanted to do something together with him, and he just nodded along, too shy to even give you a verbal response. Happy had been in charge of driving you to the restaurant you had chosen for the night.

“…and Clint said he was coming too, so it seems like a good idea to me” Peter finished, his hands fidgeting on his lap. “Natasha said that-“

“Peter, we’ve-“

“-it’s not that good, because they might pull pranks at me. I don’t really know what a prank is. What is a prank? Whatever, it can’t be something that bad to-“

“Hey kid-“

“-cancel the beach day. I’m pretty excited. I’ve never been into a private beach, did you know that? Or a beach, matter of a fact.”

“Peter, we’re here”

“But I’ve seen the commercials, with the pictures and all, so I guess it’s good.”

Peter kept talking about the beach and how amazing it would be to spend a whole weekend there. Meanwhile, you tried to catch his attention two times more, and even Happy rolled down the window that kept him on the front. It had been more than five minutes since the car stopped in front of the restaurant, but Peter didn’t seem to notice it; neither your attempts to talk to him.

He was rocking slightly side to side in a slow and steady movement, muttering more than talking.

It took you, exactly, fifteen minutes and five seconds to get him to realize of his surroundings. Once he did, he muttered a quick apologize and got out of the car, urging you to do the same.

The date went well. You had fun, Peter had fun and you decided that you liked the boy even more. Still, the always doubt that you were missing something with him lingered in your mind.

There were also weird things about Peter Parker that didn’t involve you. As his old mask, that was mostly black and impossible to see with. The team found it weird that Peter wore it sometimes around the compound, hearing and seeing them perfectly but preferring the comfort that came with it. Or his completely clueless behaviour with the sarcasm. You had seen him start crying because of a silly comment about how you wished a bus would ran you over; or how he actually shut up when you told him Shut up, you’re kidding!

Sure, you had the facts. You knew that Peter had to drink the same orange juice every morning, with the blue straw. That, in the common room, he had is spot saved every night with a certain cushion. And you had also noticed the small objects that you seemed to find every time you walked in a room. Peter Parker was a brilliant kid; smart, handsome and cute, not to mention that he could sweep any girl off her feet. In your eyes, he was perfect; so you didn’t understand why he asked if you were sure about hanging out with him every two hours, why he slept in the right side of the bed with his pinky finger extended towards the door, and why it took you so long to realise that the love Peter Parker was giving you was the most special one.

Until one day, he just blurted it out.

“I’m autistic”

If you hadn’t been sitting close to him, you probably wouldn’t have heard him. Contact was something you had worked with him over the past months, to the point you could sit beside him and, if he felt like it, Peter would let you rest your head on your shoulder. That was how you were sitting in that moment, both of you watching a documentary of space while eating blueberries.

It was as if the puzzle of Peter Parker was finally complete, and you couldn’t be surprised. Everything came into place with those words, every detail that made him the way he was. You didn’t tear your eyes from the TV, just made the risky move to link one of your hand through his arm.

He tensed, you heard his breathing fastening, but didn’t push you away. Instead, he slumped down and relaxed in way you had never seen. A shy hand made its way to yours, and he gripped one of your fingers. You had to keep down your smile not to scare him away, but Peter didn’t seem to have any problem.

“You’re – you’re not gonna say anything?” he talked again, and his voice was much less lower.

“No”

You didn’t know how to act around him most of the times, but it seemed that you had gotten the right answer, because Peter surprised you by pressing his lips against your line of hair. It was you who stopped breathing then, and Peter chuckled. Probably, it was the most intimate moment you had ever had since you had known him.

“I think I love you”

You looked up and found Peter already looking at you. He wasn’t avoiding eye contact like usually, but looking right into your eyes, even if that had him blushing. You didn’t have to look to know that his left hand, the one that wasn’t gripping yours, was tapping in a certain rhythm on his knee, or that inside his head he was repeating the every digit of the number pi to calm down.

Your relationship with Peter wasn’t going to be a normal one, that was for sure. He didn’t like touching or kissing, even if he made the exception every once in a while for you. You couldn’t leave the Tower without at least three of his ‘toys’, because he could break down in an overcrowded place and you could lost him. And you had to learn how to cook in a certain way if you wanted Peter to eat whatever you made.

But, Peter was a superhero, so it was never meant to be a normal relationship. He wore a spandex suit and could attach to walls. Threw webs and swung from place to place when he was bored. And, most important, he opened to you when every cell of his body was screaming at him.

You took another risk, because you thought that another more was alright. Leaning forward, you caught his lips against yours in a small kiss. Peter gasped, his eyes became wide and hand stopped moving.

“I know I love you”

Peter didn’t have to think twice, and leaned in for another kiss.

Want to know more about me? Here is my Masterlist! Feedback is always appreciated!!

Tom Holland and Peter Parker Taglist

@delicately-important-trash

@lexxxistrips

@smilexcaptainx

@aikaterrina

@zalladane

#peter parker #peter parker one shot #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #autistic!peter parker #imaginemai #imaginesmai #avengers #avengers x reader #avengers one shot #avengers imagine #spiderman #spiderman imagine #spiderman one shot #spiderman x reader #tom holland #tom holland one shot #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine

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i-believe-n-me-alicia · 3 years

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SWEET THINGS!

This is about a very, very sweet human being! I don’t know how to write this so I just started and I’ll let it pour out as it does! My sweet autistic son is now 16 years old, he’s my first child and only son at this point! I love him to life. So much so that he made it out the NIC-U after a month of recuperating and coming back to life. When my son Tony was born he had meconium aspiration (when a newborn breathes a mixture of meconium and amniotic fluid into the lungs around the time of delivery) which is when a baby poops in utero/the mothers stomach and inhales the poop. This can infect the babies lungs because of course were not suppose to intake poop that way. I had started a new seasonal position at FTD (the flower place). I would travel an hour or so to work and back sometimes it would be two hours depending on the cold weather and snow. I worked 8 hours traveled 2-4 hours with a combination of 10-12 hours a day, five days a week. I had to use the restroom in the worst way, in a way I never had to use the bathroom before. I went to the bathroom and it was water like urine but it had specks of green pieces like green peas mixed in the water/urine. My mother said that doesn’t look nature so I got up and drove myself to the hospital and had my baby 6-8 hours later! Til this day I don’t comprehend why they didn’t take him from my stomach sooner like they do on t.v. shows. Instead, they kept him in my stomach for 6-8 extra hours. But I have mixed feelings because I watched the doctor put his heart and soul into saving my Tony by cleaning him out and making him cry which is perfect for a new birth baby this is taking the first breath. I would go see Tony every day after work and on my off days I was there with him loving him and energetically nursing him back to health. I took one Saturday off because I had just given birth, had a c-section, I was recuperating and working everyday so I was very tired and I just needed one day. To this day I still regret not seeing him that one Saturday! After Tony spent a month in the NIC-U his doctors decided he could come home and he did. I spent New Years Eve, December 31st, 2004 bringing the New Year in with my new baby, Tone-Tone! Needless to say, New Years Eve/New Years 2004-2005 was by far the best I’ve had so far!

I was the rip old age of 29 when I got pregnant with Tony. I had always wanted children, I would see my children all the time in the ether or my imagination. In many inner city communities the females have babies young or at the least younger than I did. I’m not here to debate whether or not this is correct, I giving information so you can see where my head was at! Although, I had a high school sweetheart we thought I might have gotten pregnant and lost it but we will never really know. As I got older I want a baby because I felt that I could love them with the most love possible. But no, I wasn’t able to conceive. Not married but really wanting a baby. I know I’m very naive at this point but I believed. So, I got into one of my worst relationships to date, yet I say one of, this speaks to the point that I’ve had at least one more worstest (lol) than the worst.

This why I almost lost myself in December 14th, 2020 when my Tony told me that his stepfather, my daughter Asia’s father Vincent E. Appleton/Vedo abused him physically and sexually! I was mortified, broken, ripped, and destroyed instantly by this news. I wanted to faint, I wanted to disappear, I wanted to explode, I wanted to kill, I wanted to avenge my son. As I broke down crying and holding him I kept apologizing to him profusely. My autistic son Tony stopped and looked at me very seriously and said it’s okay mommy, everybody make mistakes. Tony’s words pulled me back together, mended my mind, heart, body and soul. It’s been a difficult year but Tony’s words really changed me and I took his beautiful words and gentle demeanor as building blocks to rebuild our bond as a mother and son. I had to remember that if I had any second thought that that person(Asia’s biological father) was capable of such sickness, I would’ve never brought my child around that thing!

I love you Tony & Asia! You two are my world as I am yours! The only way for use to go now is through the door of success, wealth, and comfortable surroundings.

I love you both with my heart and soul Asia & Tony!

https://www.hopkinsmedicine.org/health/conditions-and-diseases/meconium-aspiration-syndrome

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