#I hope all your disabled friends scream at you and block you for being such a dumb pile of shit so openly

[crippled-peeper]

@z1ish did you know that once they kill off all the mean scary ugly cripples that you’re next? and that they’re running out of mean scary ugly cripples?

[fantomette22]

(Do not respond if it makes you uncomfy, reading is enough) I am late for the party but IMO it is really hypocritical when people say you can't ship ghrmria if traditionally mourning dolls were made for children and then turn around and ship mria with a woman who addresses her as her superior and is a victim of nasty experiments mria is covering up. Everyone only bothers with nuance instead of just letting people enjoy things when it is the ship they dislike.

Hello anon! Ah I know what post you read hehe (it resume really well the situation!) Thanks for the support as well ! Some people (one person in that case, can really be hypocrite yes).

I want to talk about this. I mean it's been a part of the harassment I got but you understand I don't wanna scream it out loud everything either. I don't wanna discuss some stuff publicly either so I will keep it to the essential. And well I hope I won't get bother bc of this again. (putting the rest undercut it's a big long sorry 😅)

Alright so I never actually show the ask in question I got. Only in dm to some mutuals & friends. Idk if I should share it publicly so if you want just ask me privately there's no problem I will show it. I got tons of other dumb things too but I won't share them publicly. I'm not playing that game. I'm not answering to hate with hate.

Basically, like you read before the person "ask me" more details on my view on their relationship if I think the Doll is a mourning doll (that parents made for their children) (see my essay/analysis I made a few months ago on the Doll. I will need to update it one day XD so this person might have read it). I mean yeah I think she's similar/have a similar purpose as a mourning doll but she's special. She's not your typically victorian child morning doll TM. Then, they wanted to know more about my different interprets, AUs etc

Love when people disagree bc they don’t like you but then agree with people they like who said the same thing as you… genuine evolution ? Hm…

For real I would love to talk about my many interpretations /stories about this 2 characters (with multiple interprets contradicting each others) but I want a genuine question from someone I know / someone I can put a name one. (even sending the ask on anon but telling in dm who is it is ok too! 👍)

Not someone hiding being anon and with vicious intend. Not someone who's stalking my blog (not a follower), previously (and after) fake approval of my ship content* and harassed me repetitiously for weeks if not months because I interact some times to times with someone they don't like.

*before that I got a "backhanded fake approval" over some drawings I did. Telling me "oh it's cute and all. You're doing it the right way" but then twisting it in a disgusting way with some awful sexist comments... trying to pass the fans of the pairing (and myself?) for bad people I guess? I did answer to it but call them out a bit too. It's on private now. I might have a link somewhere (because well I did spend some times writing cool ideas I want to keep for later)

At first I wasn't sure it was the same person (the fake approval, thoughts about the morning dolls and the harassing asks). But I had doubt so I never answer it. I'm glad I did because surprise ! IT WAS THE SAME PERSON all along ! (when I block ip address it was all deleted) Like wow harassing me, trolling me and trying to fake a genuine question before harassing me more? wow people are sure fascinating. (I really want do believe in you bud ! hope you become a better person !)

I took some precautions as well after all of this. That would be a shame to go private or disable anon ask for 1 bad behaved person. I hope it will be alright now and that I won't get bother anymore.

So about the other ship you mention... at first I was positive toward it but because of a few persons well I tend to be way neutral towards it now (and it's still the main thing in a minor AU of mine lol). Personally, I think, because of my view of Blood.borne world, the healing church, the research hall... that after the experiments began on her it doesn't really work/make sense for me anymore... But I won't go bother people who imagine/interpret a softer version just to be happy and have fun ! got for it guys!

But for real the wort ship experience I had so far was in Kingdom H/earts fandom XD (love this series too) imagined you follow smn cool (twi.tter) and they indirectly punch you? "oh I know the difference between who's a friend and not if you ship characters a&b or not" 💀 like wtf sure you prefer them being friends but don't insult people liking the paring ? specially when there's clues about it idk??

I feel it's more a problem of respecting other people (& their thoughts) than proving they're not canon/ accurate or not. it's not even analysis against facts it's just how I think your ideas (and you) sucks because it's my ideas are not the same.

It’s impossible to 100% agree with everyone about everything. But if it’s not hurting anyone/ dangerous ideas just minimum respect pls. That already hurt enough people throw history and still today (but well the internet..)

I would love to talk more about the characters I love really but all this is making me exhaust mentally. Even when people are nice and calm about it I'm still concerned smn is gonna understand things wrong and just decide to go bother instead of just ignoring it.

[opscurus]

'Please tell me anonymously or not why you follow me. I could use some positive messages'

ngl your blog is a very real place.

I believe your life must be a difficult and gritty place to be; I can almost feel the stress secondhand through your posts, and I don't know if you like being followed by me: but I when I follow people or like their posts, I hope that you know I am praying for your happiness and that I'm always listening to your heartbreak and pain.

that's part of why I follow u; I want to provide some support, in some way, and I don't quite know how, or if this is effective. but I'm here.

and I appreciate your being. although life is hard you're constantly posting things like this; spreading a positive muse culture through reblogs. your RPS are fun to read even when I don't know anything about them; the way you play your muses brings a smile to my face with the familiarity.

have a song; https://youtu.be/yp6-960igQE

(( My pain warped brain had to read this a couple of times to fully comprehend that this is genuine, and I feel like crying. To have found some people here (such as your anon self) who feel so close to me, and are close to me, it's such a nice feeling. Especially when I'm going through things like I am now, and probably will keep going through (with my disabilities and chronic pain, plus my own insecurities).

I guess I should probably use my personal blog for what it's here for, but I want to let people know what's going on, because I'm followed by, and mutuals with some pretty amazing people and want to shut none of you out on my life--i feel it selfish to be honest.

I enjoy all of my followers, except the bots, they can get blocked. I want to talk to everyone in DMs but just get overwhelmed with it all and my anxiety spikes. Though I have a select few people that I can hop in and just scream with/to them and they listen...they understand. I hope you could be one of those people since you are so concerned, anon.

Even though my muse might seem very closed off and guarded, given his canon counterpart being his opposite, he's very kind should you be his friend or someone dear to him. I project a lot of myself in Ichigo, and maybe it's not all that apparent, so I'm saying it (though I'm sure I've said it in the past). I love my muse, and treasure the relationships both he and I have made here. ))

EDIT: I listened to the song you sent, and there's a line that I think defined just about everyone who listened to it, and myself.

"It's all the damage in the end, that makes me who I am"

Thanks for letting me hear that and know that my being broken is okay, there's nothing to be ashamed of.

[shigarakis-cumdump]

The Night Stalker

https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shigarakiscumdump/works

(If you like what you read, consider supporting me on Ao3!)

Summary: Finally home after a long day. The tv was tuned in to the news: "More local break ins and robberies this week, at an all time high".. Scary. But you had security cameras, you'd be fine. Right? “Get off of me!” you screamed, hoping your neighbors would hear. “Ah ah ahh, don’t wanna be too loud now, it’ll ruin our fun too quickly..”

Cw: breathplay, noncon/dubcon, stalking, dacryphilia

Word Count:1.3k

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*..✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*..✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*..✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Finally home after a long day. The tv was tuned in to the news: More local break ins and robberies this week, at an all time high.. Just the other day, someone a street over got robbed. You couldn’t lie when you said you felt a bit scared, but you kept your doors locked and had a pretty good security system, so you didn’t lose sleep over the thought. You heated up some leftovers and dragged yourself to your room, turning on your pc. You got a few rounds of gaming in before calling it an early night. You made sure your doors were locked and the security system was on, and crawled off to bed.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun was up. You were still alive, and nothing was out of place. Good. You get ready for the day and scroll through your phone. A message? You hit accept and the text popped up in bold letters: Nice computer ya got. Would be a shame if it disappeared, no? Or better yet; you. Just someone trying to scare you, you thought, before quickly disregarding it and heading off. The whole day, that text kept popping up in your mind. Maybe someone was watching you. The recent occurrences skewed your train of thought- logical thought, and you just amounted it to a prank. Whatever you needed to tell yourself.  

“Hey, Y/N, wanna go for some drinks later?” your friend asked.

“Sure, I could use a break,” you sighed. You haven’t been able to hang out with them recently with the boatloads of work you had, so some time off would be nice, right?

After work, you head to the bar and spend time with your friend.

“The stuff on the news has been creeping me out..”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about it. Not much to steal from the both of us, anyway.” you reassure. “Although I got this text earlier from someone who was trying to scare me,” you laugh as you pull out your phone, but your friend found it anything but amusing. “Y/N you should call the cops. What if someone is planning to rob you?” “I have cameras all around my house; I’d like to see them try.” Oh how you’d eat those words .

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“Well I’ll see you later. Get home safe, please..” your friend said, to which you nodded and headed off. It was already 11, the sun had set, the drunks were out on the street, and for a few blocks now, this one guy’s been following you. He had shaggy white hair and you could smell his stench from here. He was hunched over even when walking and it made your heart race. You fastened your pace and quickly ran home. Peeking from behind the blinds, you stare out into the pitch black. Anyone or anything could be hiding out there. No, your brain was just scaring you. You were already cautious enough, you needed to stop worrying. But those flimsy cameras meant nothing to the most wanted villain in the country. As he watched you retreat back from the window, he disabled your cameras and chuckled. Now all he had to do was wait. Luckily, this man had plenty of time on his hands.

You, on the other hand, were tossing and turning, trying to get some sleep, when you heard something outside your window. Shaking, you sat up and looked outside. Nothing. You sighed and lay back down, forcing your eyes closed.

“Let’s see..” the man said. He put 5 fingertips on your front door and poof! Gone like that. He made his way to your room, watching as you slept. God, you were beautiful like this. So peaceful and quiet, no looks of dread or sorrow on your face. He inched his way over to you, his weight sinking the bed. A large grin spread across his face as your eyes fluttered open. As your eyes focused on this stranger in your home, you opened your mouth to scream, but nothing came out. You were in pure, horrified shock. You sat up and backed away from him.

“W-who are you?! Take anything you want, just please, please don't hurt me,” you started begging.

“Take anything I want?” He looked around the room unsatisfied. He turned his attention back to you and smiled. “I’ll take you then.” He replied. You shook your head. Looking at his face for a second longer, you realized the man sitting in front of you was Tomura Shigaraki. You shrieked and went to grab your phone, but Shigaraki was quicker, disintegrating it before you reached it. Tears pooled in your eyes as he quickly dominated you.

“What do you want from me? Please, I’ll give you anything!” you tried bargaining.

“Ya know.. I’ve been watching you for a while…” Shigaraki said, ignoring your questions. His hand made its way to your shirt and quickly turned it to ash.

“God, this body’s even hotter up close!” he beamed, letting his hand roam your chest. You thrashed around, trying to shove him off of you.

“Get off of me!” you screamed, hoping your neighbors would hear.

“Ah ah ahh, don’t wanna be too loud now, it’ll ruin our fun too quickly..” he said, using his other hand to cover your mouth and muffle the noise. He pinched your nipple hard and you flinched, uselessly trying to get away from him. His calloused hands touching your soft skin made him drool. There were so many questions running through your head. How did he get past the cameras? Why you? How long has he been watching you? None of your questions would be answered, though. Not when Shigaraki was too busy groping your tits and watching your face contort from confusion to pleasure. “You’re telling me you don’t want this, but your body is telling me otherwise~” he mocks. His hand covering your mouth leaves for a split second to pinch your cheeks together. Your mouth parts and he shoves his tongue down your throat, dominating every part of you. A small whine left your mouth when he spits in your mouth. “Keep it there.” he demands. You nod and turn your gaze to his crotch that’s now sitting on your torso. He unzips his pants and his cock springs out.

“Please don’t.. Please Shigaraki..”

“You think you’re in the position to be denying me?” he asks, “You’ll be begging for more in no time anyways.”

Shigaraki takes a fistful of your hair and pushes your mouth down onto his cock, relentlessly bobbing it up and down. Your gag reflex was horrible, only being pushed more by his hard on constantly brushing the back of your throat. Shigaraki’s head rolls back and he lets out a groan. “Fuck you’re taking me so well. Who knew you’d be such a slut,” he chuckles between hitched breaths. Face stained with tears, you claw at his thighs to get a moment of air. You feel his grip tighten and his thrusting fasten. “You can breath when I cum, how bout that?” he muses, watching your watery eyes widen as you try begging with him in your mouth. The vibrations go straight to his groin, that warm, familiar feeling growing inside him. “Fuck princess, I’m gunna cum,” he pants. Seconds later, his hips stutter and you feel a steady stream coating the back of your throat. When he lets go of your hair, you fall on your back, desperately trying to take in air. He collapses on top of you in his blissed out state, before staring into your eyes and saying, “You’ll be a perfect addition to the hideout. How does a field trip sound? Not that you have much of a choice..”

[mettywiththenotes]

Izuku’s Emotional Neglect

Hi so I’m not okay because I keep thinking about Izuku

This kid has been emotionally neglected since he was little. Izuku has had NOBODY to rely on emotionally

He didn’t have Inko, or his classmates, or All Might. Actually, All Might is borderline the only one he’s confided in [since they talk briefly about their connection of being quirkless], but he still holds back

Inko is trying her best and no parent is perfect, I see that, but what she said to Izuku that fateful night damaged that boy and the way he saw himself.

He asks her if he can be a hero, and she cries and says she’s sorry. Not only does this imply that Izuku’s quirklessness is bad, it also implies that she was lying.

And by the way, I don’t mean that Inko ACTUALLY lied that Izuku could be a hero, nor do I think that she meant to mean his quirklessness was bad.

But I need, NEED, to stress that this is how Izuku sees it. This is how he would perceive it, subconciously.

If you’re a child and you think that you can be a hero, your parent encourages it because it makes you happy. But then suddenly you can’t be a hero, and you ask them one more time if it’s possible, hoping that those little wishes you made weren’t fruitless, that maybe somehow this is some kind of dream and she’ll wake you up from it with her smile and her warmth, promising that even with this newfound “disability” you can still be a hero, but instead she cries and apologises to you? That’s going to make you think. It’s going to make you think “Was she lying? if she truly believed in me, why would she cry and say she’s sorry? why isn’t she encouraging me, like she always does? what is happening?”

It’s not the truth, and Inko DIDN’T lie, but subconsciously I feel like it’s something that betrayed Izuku a great deal.

And with the quirklessness. He hates it, he hates feeling useless, and he saw himself as useless when he was quirkless, therefore -> quirkless is something weak and awful.

Time and time again, we see this evidence of the emotional neglect he was subjected to. It’s like actively ongoing and the effects of it are seen even now

We’ll start with the Inko one. I just mentioned it, but here are the panels. It’s really just the language that she uses

“You mean there’s something wrong?”

Apologizing over and over again, like not being normal was a bad thing. Moreso, I think this just meant that she knew how hard Izuku’s life was going to be as a quirkless person, but the way she says it makes it sound like what happened to Izuku was wrong and bad and incredibly awful

Then we have All Might disregarding his feelings and telling him straight up that he couldn’t be a hero

Which then leads to this commentary

“Don’t cry! Let it sink in!!” “Just block it out, just block it all out, just-”

*pats Izuku on head* You Can Fit So Much Denial And Repression Into This Kid!

Then further along, Izuku is seen, and he gets the quirk. He is then surrounded by people that love him, that want to help him, but it’s almost like even the narrative won’t let him have emotional closure.

In most emotional closure scenes (Tsuyu crying, Kirishima vs Rappa, Iieda in the hospital with Shouto and Izuku, Kacchan vs Deku 2), there is an end to it. The character is emotional, crying or upset, and thinking back on their regrets, spilling their guts as they scream, sob, or give solemn expressions. The other characters then cheer/hype them up, reaching some sort of conclusion to the character’s pain, and the situation is more or less resolved.

But that’s not the case with Izuku. He’s always left sorta hanging there, or his hurt and anger get sidetracked by something else. One example of this is the Running With All Might scene in the UA grounds

Izuku is incredibly upset that All Might chose to withhold information on Sir Nighteye and Mirio, and he speaks about how he can’t make sense of it. He’s voicing all his worries to All Might as they run, because he can’t stand the thought of All Might keeping something like this a secret from him.

And then All Might tells him why he kept it a secret, that he didn’t feel it was necessary to let Izuku know about Nighteye’s bias, and then it divulges into him telling Izuku he’s gonna die, and Izuku focuses on that instead.

I am NOT saying that All Might did this purposefully. He didn’t try and steer Izuku’s anger away from him, it was just that it all got revealed so suddenly, so the subject changed.

The narrative tosses Izuku’s feelings of anger aside, and instead Izuku gets emotional over All Might’s potential death. Idk man, to go from angry and upset about withheld information and then immediately shoved into the knowledge that your mentor-father figure is gonna die? That’s the narrative playing with Izuku’s feelings.

Obviously, All Might’s communication skills are awful and he just kinda unloaded all this stuff on Izuku cuz he didn’t think to tell him in the first place, but I still think Izuku’s feelings got pushed around here. He had no time to process any of it

Another example is the cafeteria scene with Shouto and Iieda

The scene goes that Izuku is visibly depressed by the Eri situation and Iieda and Shouto notice. They tell him that he can talk to them when everything gets too much [a parallel to the Stain fight], and Izuku cries. Izuku insists he shouldn’t cry, and Shouto tells him that, actually, Heroes cry too sometimes, and they offer him their food in an attempt to comfort him.

But the thing is, this scene doesn’t offer closure. Closure would be Izuku seeing that he could rely on his friends and telling them how he feels [he wouldn’t have to necessarily tell them about Eri - maybe just phrase it in another way that doesn’t reveal the mission]. Closure would be Izuku accepting that Heroes can cry too, and admitting he’s not okay. Instead, we have this

The scene feels... incomplete? Like there’s no knot at the end of the rope. Izuku is being comforted, but he’s not acknowledging his own feelings of sadness.

In fact, he’s shoveling food into his mouth to stop himself from crying, to shut himself up, to try and move forward and get past his little outburst.

I would go as far as to say this is self hatred eating, trying to quell that vulnerable part inside

I wouldn’t say Izuku HATES himself now. Rather, he just makes connections to his past quirkless self in his mind. It’s the negative emotion connection

Feeling weak? Well, you’re still like your quirkless self before! You’re still not good enough and useless!

Not strong enough? Sounds like back when you were quirkless! All weak and helpless! You can’t help anyone, which is why you need to get stronger, so you can move on from your past self!

Crying? Just like when you were quirkless! You always cried back then, like a helpless kid! You can’t be like that anymore, since you are now All Might’s Successor and A Hero, so stop crying! You’re not allowed to cry anymore!

Do you see what I’m getting at here? Izuku continuously represses these emotions as he gets stronger because he connects them to when he was quirkless. If you associate certain behaviors and emotions with how you were during a vulnerable and traumatic time in your life, you’re going to want to shove those emotions down so you don’t repeat what happened back then [in this case, Izuku sees himself being vulnerable as weak, and he saw himself as weak when he was quirkless, so he’s trying not to be vulnerable anymore].

And the scary thing is, now, we can even see the hatred in real time. I’m sure there are other examples in the manga, but one scene is very prominent in my mind, and it’s this one

Izuku is so incredibly strong now, he has saved many people, but he still can’t view himself as anything other than “useless” or “helpless” unless he powers through death itself just to break himself more. He almost feels like he HAS to do that in order to be seen as worthy, for himself and others. When he’s struggling, bleeding and heavily injured, he yells at himself as if it’s all his fault.

It’s not about whether he’s aware he’s actively dying or not. To him, being worthless and useless is infinitely worse than dying.

Actually, the way Izuku practically yells at himself in this panel reminds me of when he was walking home in chapter 1 after his chat with All Might [shown above when talking about All Might’s impact]

There are two translated versions of this actually that ring alarm bells in my head. There is the panel already pictured above, but I chose this panel too because I simply think it hits harder

“Don’t cry! You knew already, right?! This is reality...”

In either translation, he’s chiding himself. For crying. For being emotional.

And once again, I totally think this stems from emotional neglect. Trying not to get too personal here, but I know what this feels like, and I know the effect it has had on me. I can’t be vulnerable or spill my feelings in front of people, it just feels illegal or smthg. Like it shouldn’t be done. And like... if you’re taught from an early age that, one way or another, your feelings don’t matter and that nobody is going to pay attention to you, why try, right?

Then you just begin to Not Feel Properly, and you become incapable of expressing your feelings in a healthy manner

Current examples of this?

Izuku literally not giving himself time to process anything, like worry, grief, sadness. If anything, the only emotion he gives time for is anger. And he specifically directs it at All For One, cause that’s his target. [we saw little bits of this in War Arc but it also applies to the current arc]

He can’t cry. He feels emotional, sure. But he never lets his tears shed.

And one last bit of evidence

I’d say most if not all of these sound about right

In conclusion I wanna hug Izuku

[madfantasy]

I haven't seen you post in a while, I hope you've been doing okay? How is everything? Hope it's been a good year so far for you 💕💕

You're too kind, u & everyone who made inquiries, bless ur hearts.. im sorry for disappearing, but yeah, I don't have net— using my phone credit and hope this posts..

I tried to record my voice answering this, like I sometimes did on tik, suddenly ended up trying to muffle the floods of my burning tears, so now I have an awkward vid of me talking then weeping out of nowhere, which a good reason for me to keep up the no cry habit, heh.. but seriously, I suppose I'm fine till I be conscious of it.. its much easier for not to talk .. even tho I'm aching to be back in thy company, lonely in my foresight to catch on to the present that joins us, hand held out to reach like minded souls but shying from the fear of forgetfulness occurring..

I'm fine tho, did few new stuff, merely drowning in too muchness and nothingness as usual, this month I guess you could say I took an act of mad fury in search of any happy source because the echoing silence and the swarm of sadness nipping on my brain cells thickened, and the reasoning merged with the obscene. So instead of giving my guardians the usual of 3/4 of my earnings last month for net and groceries, I spent it all. Ya know, as it was told to me it mine to do as I please? As being prevented any chance of work if it was possible, 't was supposed to be spent on art supplies & measly delights craved for years ?

Before hand, I've been begging them to take me for months to get any clothing or whatever, be it the first time I ever see a shop, then just to drive around, then just me peaking to the outside when the front door is open, merely seeking change I suppose. They kept vaguely promising me until they refused point blank— getting tired of my nagging, then their car just stopped working till this day. Its in the workshop rn..

Anyway, befouled by despair, needing the mere basics of life and not granted, I was delighted when i found a site to buy from cheap & pretty, I pressed buy without any further considerations, or taking their permission and thrilled to be able get gifts for my siblings too. I say gifts but really they are deprived necessities too and not even much just one each cuz well, they are 5 of my babies and to start with the top of priorities; we all draw

I could already see it, they can't help themselves; heck seeped through the clenched gates of their mouths, trying desperately to poison me with undirect attempts this time, cuz I bought for my sibs they're out of the option of calling me selfish. I was upping the same trance like state of vague existence dealing with them, absorbing their insults and degrading just to make sure my shi arrives safe.

Unfortunate for me, the site chose the worst carrier in this country

I did everything in my power to make it into their convenience, by embarrassingly messaging the carrier daily, they took a week of promising to deliver and flanking so my guardians reached a heated level of threatening, waving their hands nd almost tossing shi at mE saying that they don't care if they came and if i dared to order something again they'll do this and that. Not allowing me to open the door for the delivery guy when he comes, blaming me for missing vaccination dates (they kept missing them even before)& missing going to important places(again, they just didn't go to for ages), made them loose sleep, etc etc— in turn, I seen red and regretfully blew up.

I screamed at them its literally the only time I ever did this, it BECAUSE it easier on them & I'll do what I want whatever anyway, & to stop interrupting me while I try to explain things , then they suddnly back done and be like I'm not mad at u I'm mad at the delivery ppl, that they are proud of me for being able to do all this, and such sort. I left them to cool in my room, Idk how I did it but must have slam-gripped something so hard it chipped most of my short nails & cracked one, was glad I didn't hurt my drawing hand but yeah, goofy mani

They robbed me of the joy of anticipation & the dissipation of apathy, I started to lose sleep again and my liberating dreams left me and I don't think I remember leaving bed.

But still, If not force myself to do things.. there'll be nothing for me if I don't.. at least I know im able of that

I got my guardians happy tho after another tiresome refusal, by trying out one of those Uber-eat like local apps here, since they have no car and being disabled & ill, I ordered McDonald's for the first time. Slythry behind their backs per habit, told them someone coming and they had that look again, but thankfully the guy came through and didn't steal my money, heh. For a big 1800 calories meal I suppose it was passable, the happy fam faces I got was the real treat..

Oh with that thing with the credit card stating I owe them money, waited weeks & nobody got back to us? They started taking from my guardian's account directly to pay it, saying oh we did send you warnings--- TO THE SHADOWY LINES OF THEIR POSTERIOR A.K.A NOWHERE. Thankfully the account is mostly empty nd just for random transactions, i alerted my guardians not to use it. And again, my god, another round of endless calls and promises started, and we wait again so they just don't act as if we owe them a frking 17k dollars that we don't have.. was panicking cuz I have nothing and but my guardians were weirdly comforting about it and told me not to worry

One thing good bout no net is it made me stop thinking about life in general, and stop the tiny unnoticeable prick of misery when I have no input to share, trying not to helplessly compare people just living, in inflated style or not, in media, to my isolated-most-of-my-life style and missing much of that organic "life experiences and chances", heh. At least, my situation would be favorable to me if it was ever possible for it to let me have peace, or have the simple knowledge I'm not virtually imprisoned and have never familiarised with nothing of this world but the surrounding walls.. its nice to have more time to be consumed by muse and day dreaming that flutters life through my dull being and sing chorus of inspiring means for art to flow and finds its way delicately onto my realised canvas.. but no, I continued drawing whilst sight blurred with salty droplets contradicting that happy tintin dance on tiktok I worked so long on just cuz I couldn't stop, not the tears or the mad scribbles of determined intention to visualise the mourned excitement I need, hating everything I make

Somehow the lilac dream still intrudes, visualising me friends, living, in a quaint home, maybe we roommate, arm in arm we go to make every fracture of fate's encounters a disgusting adventurous thrill, like building a maze of cardboard or chasing each other in the dark.. maybe getting that half bleached head and endless ear pericings ... then it dies and I totally forget it..

But what those awesome headphones helped me do, literally blocks all their voices listening to Sev losing it and I can Waltz around not feeling gutted to go and interfere or play the referee each time. But I can't wear them forever, gives me a bad headache, and honestly; I can't be too neglectful.. my sibs hates me for it already hehe

At least these clothing came true to their measurements, felt the new sensations on how everything I wore hugs me & learnt the baffling ways on how "gender" and region plays different tunes on the same measurements. Getting fitting things felt like suddenly there's hope to be, for myself to be me, and ease this severe disassociation between who I am, and what my body is .. from how little I see myself nd consider it worthy of anything because of how long it been living like a phantom among people.. to numb this dysphoria until it be gone one day

Saddened that the only site I can't order from again if they keep using that awful carrier

...

I missed our country's 91 national day, too. They made sales everything 91 riyal so.. but knowing the sellers here, I don't think most of em went true with their offers.. Horrible news tho on the celebrations, sigh

I turned this into a dear diary, guess bothered you enough today, sorry

So thankful to yous, Idk if I can be back, but I'll remain creating, and will keep the thought alive of being tickled when sharing my creations with your viewing pleasure somehow

'till then my precious dears, take care 💛🙏

26.9.2021, 8 pm, sleeping

[theyscreamjade]

Can you do Kiri, Iida, Izuku, and Bakugo with a s/o who goes deaf from a concussion received during a fight or even training. (I lost my hearing and I haven't seen much done for deaf readers. Thank you so much if you do respond hun.)

Severe Silence

Words can’t describe how I feel for you honey, Trust me, you’re not alone. I’ve always had hearing issues since I was born and they’re stating I may or may not lose my hearing in the future which hurts because music is my life and I can’t see myself without it. I hope this makes your day and if you need to talk, I’m always here.

Disclaimer: Slight Gore, Abuse and Acts Of Violence

————————————————————————————————————————

Eijiro Kirishima

* He remembers the whole accident that day because he was the one who carried you to the infirmary.

* It was training to see how you’d withstand during a earthquake and you were one of the following that was instructed to stand in a building.

* Aizawa wasn’t too keen on it but you insisted that you wanted a challenge.

* When the ground started to shake, wood, chunks of cement started tumbling down. You had your practice dummy to your back, running towards the safe exit with Ochacko and Shoji following close behind.

* Apart from the training, a ding would be heard when there’s another victim close by, you guys had the majority of them. Even though the earthquake ended, parts were still falling.

* You handed your dummy off and went off to find another one, and never returned.

* You were eventually sent to the hospital even though Recovery Girl healed you.

* You weren’t heard of for a while which worried your Sharky lover.

* During a free period, Baku-Squad including Deku, Momo, and Ochacko comes over to visit you.

* You were home alone and when you opened the door to see your friends, you couldn’t help but burst into tears because you couldn’t hear their excited voices to see that you’re fine.

* I do see Kirishima as the type to pull out his phone and ask you if you were okay through the notes app.

* You tell them back when you were grabbing the last dummy, you tripped and slammed your head into a large block of cement.

* Being the amazing boyfriend he is, he’s going to learn every possible way to speak to you.

* To sign language to even speaking as slow as he possibly can.

* He’s willing to do everything to make everything easier for you and to keep that gorgeous smile on your face.

* He knows how hard it is to lose something that you’re so used to having and it pains him to see you a tad bit depressed because you can’t hear him anymore.

* Just know he’s going to do anything that would seem impossible to help you through every step.

* This includes training, If you always relied on your ears he’ll help you try to find another way to smell a villain near you.

* He’s going to encourage you to keep going towards your dream and never give up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Izuku Midoriya

* His feet never ran so fast when you were found unconscious.

* During your first internship, You and Izuku were attempting to save Eri that day. Everyone was soon separated.

* When it seemed that it wasn’t going to be well, you sent him to go get Eri while you fought the villains with others.

* The mission was a success but came with painful consequences, You fought with a villain who was a tad bit advanced for you. You fought with all your might while the building warped and swirled.

* The last thing you could remember was the villain's backup appearing behind you and attacking you as everything became black.

* Luckily, One of the pro-heroes rushed over and defended you while their sidekicks quickly took you towards the medic.

* When Deku first found out, not even caring if he was injured or not. He wanted to see you. He wanted to make sure you were okay.

* It took him a while to see you and when he did, he was ecstatic to see you awake and responsive.

* He called your name but..you never responded, which confused him. He had to touch your shoulder, nearly giving you a heart attack as he asked what’s wrong and you just stared.

* Then, he knew..something was wrong.

* Upon finding this out, Izuku being the great and amazing guy he is will also take many precautions to learn to speak to you.

* His sign language is a tad bit rusty and sucks a bit, but give him a chance. He’s trying.

* In each conversation you two have, he’ll always make sure he’s speaking slow and you’re able to see his lips move.

* If he can’t speak or wearing a mask, he’ll either text you or type his words through his phone for you.

* He’s going to tell you that you should keep going on your fight to be a hero.

* Izuku will train with you and see if you two could discover a different method that you could use during battles.

* He will never give up on you and will always help you with your dreams.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Katsuki Bakugo

* Everything happened so fast that even HE couldn’t keep up.

* One minute, You were kicking ass, destroying every villain in your way.

* Even though the attack was extremely random and with the permission from the teachers to fight these villains who interfere with your training for the fifth time in a span of a few years.

* Hell, you had your hero’s license so you had the right to kick their asses.

* You stood up, cracking your neck and fists before punching another villain back to the ground.

* Katsuki saw the purple blur flash past him as a large Nomu appeared to your turned back.

* Before he could even react, his body ran you over. His corrupted face looked down at what he did as Bakugo’s anger boiled over the surface. He grabbed the villain he was originally fighting and launched him into the Nomo before blasting them with his explosion as hard as he possibly could.

* No one hurts you. No one.

* It took Kirishima, Denki, Izuku, and lastly, a time-limited All Might to get him off the Nomo who he SURPRISINGLY knocked out.

* Once he could relax, he walks to your dorm. When he knocks and you don’t answer, it makes him worried.

* He won’t kick the door down..but..knock it off the hinges and discovers you crying on the bed.

* All the banging, knocking he did and you didn’t react while he was standing in front of him, his heart instantly knew that damn Nomu did something to you.

* He already knew sign language, there’s no lie in that.

* He knows it because his quirk has nearly made him deaf at times and it was told that he’d lose it before he would have a chance to be a hero.

* After the attack, he’s always by your side. He corrects people who try to talk to you and demands that they use sign language or their phones. He hates when others talk fast to you as well.

* He’s like this because he wants to help you in every way he can.

* If you decide to be a hero, despite his warnings. He’s going to help you as much as he can. He’ll ask for help from hero’s who has the same disability as yours if not, he’s going to make a method of teaching you with your other senses.

* He may teach you how to use your sight more, smell, or touch to their full potential.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Iida Tenya

* It honestly hurts him every time he thinks about it, It shouldn’t have been that.

* He was supposed to protect you but he was separated from everyone else. You were with one of the members of Wild Wild Pussycats when Dabi attacked with his crew.

* You and Ragdoll were walking back after discussing your training in the morning when everything became extremely terrifying for you two.

* You and Ragdoll fought your best, almost moving in sync with each other Magne knew how to just send you flying into a tree each time.

* He created a negative force between you and Ragdoll when sent you two flying apart at a harsh force as you went flying into the woods and collided with a huge bolder.

* Blood dripped from your head as Ragdoll’s scream came to your ears while you reached out to help. Your knees touched the marshy land while your hand shook, pain rushing through your body.

* When the message came through, you passed out.

* Tetsutetsu and Itsuka discovered you and carried your body to safety away from all the chaos.

* When it was discovered that you were among the ones injured along with two missing individuals, It sent chills down his spine.

* Since you two just started dating and he was sure you and your parents wanted to spend time with each other, he wouldn’t come to see you in the hospital.

* It takes him over two weeks and when Aizawa needed someone to take his homework to your home. He immediately offered himself because he’s been dying to see you again.

* A jump, kick, and step later, he appeared at your door. You were checking the mail as he called out to you from a few feet away.

* You didn’t notice him and walked towards your home, not noticing his presence yet.

* He was taken back by your casualness while you walked to the door until he saw the hearing aid in your ear.

* That’s when he knows now why you didn’t react and just watches you walk away.

* One thing I do admire about this man, he’ll do anything when it comes to you. While he’s taking his brother to the physical therapy sessions for him.

* He’s learning every single possible way to talk to you. I mean every way.

* As strange as this may sound, he loves signing into your hand even though you’re not blind.

* It’s close contact and he adores that with you. For example, private things or him simply saying he loves you, he’ll sign it into your hand while everything else is out to the open.

* He often recommends to others and his friends that they speak slower with you so you can comprehend or try not to speak all at once.

* If you wish to continue your path to being a hero, he’s going to support you but he can’t help but constantly worry.

* The last time he let you go, you became deaf and he doesn’t want anything else to ever happen to you again. He wants to be your knight in white amour but he knows how you like to be independent too.

* Just don’t give this man a heart attack, please.

[willowandfog]

Taking Flight

Summary: Kagome has been struggling with her disability most of her life but she's never felt anything but normal with Inuyasha always steadily by her side. But when her neurologist approaches her with the chance to recover full use of her leg, she takes it.

A childhood friends to lovers, soulmates AU

Read on AO3 or Below the Cut

Sorry this is a day late, work got in the way and I literally fell asleep at my desk yesterday trying to write this chapter ^.^

See you soon for chapter six, first date!

Kagome would never let Inuyasha find out about the fact that she had brought work with her. It really needed to get done, and even though she was technically already on vacation she felt responsible for it. Besides, she knew that she would need the distraction it would bring. She was staying with her mother, Inuyasha and herself had reluctantly agreed to sleep apart for the night. 

Stupid tradition. She thought. It’ll be good for you guys, they said. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, they said. 

Kagome rolled her eyes and sighed. Leaning back she tried to loosen her shoulders and relax a little further into the tub. She would admit that it had been nice to just sit and have some girl time over a lovely dinner with her mother and Izayoi, and her grandfather adding in cheeky commentary every now and then. Steam rose from amongst the lavender scented bubbles as Kagome closed her eyes and shifted her head, trying to get her neck into a more comfortable position, the loose tendrils that framed her face growing damp from the brief dip into the tub. 

The tension in her body began to melt away and she hummed in appreciation. 

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Inuyasha was in a daze as he sat on their comfortable tan couch. He was in Kagome’s normal spot because it held her scent more than anywhere else, other than the bed; but he decided he wasn’t going to be that guy, laying in bed missing her, yet. The television was on but he wasn’t paying attention, he was missing her; he’d been away from her before, obviously. But never like this, not in a long time, not since they had both turned eighteen and moved into the apartment together. They spent their work days apart but they always, always were together while they slept. It helped soothe them both, him more so with his youkai instincts screaming at him to bond with her. When she was safe and content in his arms he was settled, he was at peace with himself, mostly. He found that the youkai was most quiet when he was being intimate with Kagome and they had been abstaining from that for the past week. 

He sighed, throwing his head back. He felt like there were bugs crawling under his skin, like his youkai was going to claw out of his body and rip the door off its hinges and go find its mate. He knew where she was staying, of course; she was spending the night at her mother’s, but knowing he wouldn’t see her till tomorrow afternoon, and the thought of sleeping without her was driving him crazy. A knock on his door snapped him out of his stupor. 

Kagome! No, stupid, Kagome wouldn’t need to knock. 

With a sigh, he rose to answer the door. When the door swung open he let out an audible groan.

“What do you guys want?”

“Greetings, my liege. Thy fair maiden has bestowed upon us a quest.” Miroku grinned at him as he presented his arm full of liquor bottles. 

“What the hell are you talking about and why are you talking like that?”

“Because he already started drinking in the car and you pick the weirdest friends.” Kouga stated from his position behind Miroku, arms folded across his chest.

Inuyasha sighed. “So why are you guys here?” He stepped to the side to allow them inside.

“Thy maiden-”

“No.” Inuyasha said as he closed the door. “You, speak.” He pointed to Kouga before crossing his arms and continuing. “Why are you here? I’m not great company right now.”

Kouga raised a brow as he ventured over to the couch, just as he was about to sit Inuyasha let out a fierce growl.

“I don’t think so, wolf.” Inuyasha spoke through gritted teeth. “You will sit over there.” He pointed to the armchair. “Don’t think I don’t know why you zeroed in on that spot.” Inuyasha went over and sat in the spot Kouga had tried to claim. 

Kouga rolled his eyes before moving to the chair. “Kagome sent us over as the idiot said. She thought it would be best if you had friends over to help you make it through the night. Well technically she said ‘could you guys go over and have a guys night, Inuyasha might have a tough time by himself.’”

Inuyasha’s heart ached and he found himself rubbing a hand across his chest. Of course she would make sure he wasn’t alone without her. She was the most amazing, thoughtful person in the world. She was so sweet, kind, and never selfish. She should never have to do anything for herself, she should be taken care of, always. 

Inuyasha suddenly stood, he had to go to Kagome, she might need him. He had almost reached the door when Kouga was blocking the way, holding a hand up as if that would stop him. 

“Move. I’m going to Kagome, screw this sleeping apart shit.” 

Kouga didn’t move. “Come on, Inuyasha. It’s just one night, Kagome is safe at her mother’s and you’ll see her tomorrow. You’re getting married tomorrow, the next time you see her she will be walking down the aisle to pledge herself to you. You’re a man, not a wild animal, pull yourself together.” 

Kouga rested his hands on Inuyasha’s shoulders and turned him around, giving him a nudge back towards the couch. “Now go sit, let Miroku pour you a drink and we can hang out and be bros or whatever.”

Miroku handed Inuyasha one of the bottles of bourbon he had set on the coffee table before sitting on the opposite end of the couch.

“Really?” Inuyasha questioned him, sitting. “You think trying to get me drunk will help with my decision making and that I might feel less like shit about the fact that she’s not here?”

Miroku shrugged. “Nah. Just thought a little might help you relax. Try not to be so aggressive, your mate is fine, you’ll see her tomorrow, and for now you sit and relax and hang out with your friends.”

Inuyasha sighed as he twisted open the bottle and took a swig. “So why are you here? We aren’t friends, acquaintances at best.” 

Kouga let out a chuckle. “‘Cause Kagome and I are friends, and she asked me to come over. She wanted someone that would be able to help in case you went all crazy youkai on Miroku trying to leave the apartment.”

“Ok, ok. Fine. I know that this is something that Kagome agreed to, and she obviously wants to stick with it, so I’ll try my best to reign in the urge to bolt out of here. Pick up a bottle Kouga, let’s get drunk.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Kagome sat on the guest bed, back propped up against the headboard, her comfortable Slytherin pajama bottoms on paired with one of Inuyasha’s shirts that was far too large on her small frame. Her damp hair was thrown into a messy bun on top of her head and she had her work laptop in her lap. As she typed furiously away on her computer her mind kept trying to wander. She wondered if Inuyasha was holding up ok, knowing that this separation would be harder on him with his need to bond. 

Checking the time, she knew that Miroku and Kouga must be there by now, she hoped they were distracting him. She contemplated texting one of them to make sure they were over there and that things were going alright, but decided against it since she knew that Inuyasha would have a harder time if he knew she was worrying over him. She was briefly curious to know what they were doing to occupy their time but decided against that line of thoughts so she tried to focus back on her work. 

When she found her thoughts straying again sometime later, she closed her laptop on a huff. Climbing from the bed, she placed her laptop back into her bag before making her way to the bathroom to finish getting ready for bed. As she was brushing her teeth she thought about Inuyasha, and how he had always placed her needs first. Hell, he had built his life around her, his career was even chosen for her benefit. Wanting to be able to take care of her the best that he could, he had gone into physical therapy, spending years in school and gaining his doctorate. 

The surgery she had undergone had worked as well as could have been expected, she could mostly walk correctly, she had a noticeable limp at times but never required her crutch, and when her leg would get sore or start cramping up, she would just wear her leg brace and everything would be fine. Now that she didn’t need constant therapy, she wondered if Inuyasha would think or want to change specialties. She hadn’t had the opportunity to speak with him about it yet, with her healing and rehabilitation after the surgery and with the upcoming wedding, but she made a note to do so soon. 

She would be forever grateful that he had chosen a physical therapy career, but it also caused her some guilt every now and then. He had picked his path because of her; if she hadn’t had her stupid injury, would he still have gone down that road? She didn’t think he would have, and she would make sure that he knew how much she loved him for his decision but that he didn’t have to stay in a career that he didn’t enjoy, especially if there was something else he would rather be doing. 

She snuggled under the covers, tugging the extra pillow over to cuddle with, wishing once again that she was back home with Inuyasha. 

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“I still can’t believe you tried to kiss her!” Miroku burst into another round of hysterical laughter, almost toppling off his seat. “You’re so lucky,” he sucked in a breath between his laughs, “that Kagome is so soft-hearted. Inuyasha,” more laughter escaped him, “Inuyasha would’ve killed you!”

Kouga tried to resist Miroku’s contagious laughter but couldn’t, finding himself chuckling even as he glared at him. “Well, i-s was worth it; I was a hair's breaths away from being Kagome’s fir-rsst kiss. If I would ‘ave kissed her and died as a result, it would have been worth it.” 

Inuyasha growled. “Watch it.”

“What?” Kouga gasped in feigned disbelief. “You should take that as a compl-lment. Your mate is highly dessirable and she wants only you. If the roles were r-reversed here, and gods do I wish they were, I’d be rubbing it in your face. If I got to touch that perfects body, and kiss those lus-...luscious lips and smell her delicious c-”

Inuyasha pounced, tackling Kouga from his spot on the edge of the chair and rolling with him to the ground. They rolled over one another over and over, both trying to get the upper hand, both too drunk and uncoordinated to function well. 

“Here’s an idea,” Kouga said between the rolls, “we should hav-a rematch, winner getsss to marryy ‘Gome tomorrow.”

Inuyasha jumped to his feet, swaying, and put his fists in the air. “You got it. Y-your’s so going dow..n” He tilted his head as if confused by his own words. “Kick yooour ass again.”

Kouga slowly rose, using the back of the chair for balance. “Dream on, doggie...dog boooy.” 

When Kouga took a wavery step towards Inuyasha, raising his own fists, a loud snore snapped both of their attention to the couch. Miroku lay sprawled out on the couch face down, arm dangling off the side, empty bottle dangling from his fingers. 

Inuyasha dropped his arms and straightened. “Better idea. I go lay on ‘Gome’s sside of the bed, and dream ‘bout how ‘morrow she’ll be my wife and my soul bond-ded mate.”

“Nooo.” Kouga whined as Inuyasha stumbled towards the bedroom. “Come back, fight. I wanna marry ‘Gome.”

“Dream on, wolf.” 

As Inuyasha dropped face first into the bed, he pulled Kagome’s pillow close, snuggling his face in deep as he held it tight to his chest. He breathed in a deep breath of her scent, missing the chirp from his pocket, as he quickly succumbed to his drunken sleep. 

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Kagome laid there, staring into the darkness, realizing that she couldn’t sleep without the sound of Inuyasha’s soft snoring and his warmth surrounding her. She groaned at herself as she felt the beginnings of tears start to form, swiping at her cheeks when they escaped. Giving in, she rolled over and grabbed her cell phone from the night stand. Rolling back into her spot, she sent a text to Inuyasha, telling him that she couldn’t sleep and that she thought hearing his voice might help.

She lay staring at her phone, waiting for almost an hour before she decided that he must have gone to sleep already. Putting Friends on the television, she laid on her side and hoped that sleep would come soon. 

@ruddcatha @superpixie42 @dawnrider @smmahamazing @bluejay785 @lavendertwilight89 @mamabearcat @fawn-eyed-girl @clearwillow @i-dream-of-soup @liz8080 @zelink-inukag @malditamigs

[marvelfansince08love]

Helpless

Word count: 2304 

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader 

Warning: A small part is NSFW 18+

Prompt 9 - “You pull a stunt like that again; you won’t be coming for a month” 

A/N: For @xxxtwilightaxelxxx​ I hope you enjoy love! Sorry it took so long x

Tagging a few: @waitingfortheendtocome​ @natasha-danvers​ @imnotasuperhero​ @j-does-life​ @the-enamorando-deity​ @missmonsters2​ @veteranwerewolf95​ 

Prompt 9

“Y/N DO NOT ENGAGE. I REPEAT DO NOT ENGAGE.” Steve’s authoritative voice crackles through the comms and into your ear, making you shake your head in defiance. 

“No can do, Cap. I have no other choice but to take out the west wing, there are people in that room.” You argue back, grunting as you swing a right hook into the guy's jaw, knocking him out cold. 

You continue to move forward taking out any and all enemies that cross your path. Muffled arguments continue on in your ear as you elect to ignore the orders and make your way to the west wing. 

“Listen to Steve Y/N, or so help me God I’ll make my way over to you myself.” That beautiful Sokovian accent drips low into your ear, making you falter ever so slightly from your task.

“Wanda, I have no choice. I can’t wait around for you to get here, it’s a ticking time bomb in there. I’m sorry.” You justify, before taking the small piece out of your ear and throwing it onto the floor. The angry voices of your girlfriend and friend/captain slowly get quieter as you move further down the hall. 

Once you’ve reached the secret office door, you search the now unconscious guard for his pass before entering the room. 

“You shouldn’t be in here, little lady.” The man mocks, smirking criminally at you. He goes to remove his gun out of his holster but you clock the movement quicker than his reaction to reach for it, ducking quickly and with one leg out ready to sweep him to the floor you use one of Nat’s widow bites to finish the job, ignoring the pleading and screams of the civilians. You move forward to the small group tied together in the corner and hush them gently. 

“Hey hey, we got you guys. We’re gonna get you out of here, but I need you to stay quiet as there are still people like him on board, alright?” The silent nods of acknowledgement is enough to reassure you as you move towards the ticking bomb, making quick work to try and disable it. The time quickly descends as sweat begins to pour down your forehead. 

“Fuck! Why isn't this working?!” You growl, quietly to yourself. Fingers fumbling with the red and blue wires. 

“Y/N!” Natasha’s voice panicked as she entered the room with Sam and Bucky flanking either side of her. You refuse to turn your head to acknowledge their presence as you continue to work at the ticking time bomb. 

“Widow get them out of here, now!” You shout, your patience suddenly running thin as you realise you don’t have enough time to escape before the explosion. Hurried footsteps behind you, tell you they are following your order. A hand grips your shoulder tightly, snapping you out of your work.

“That includes you as well Y/N. Wanda will kill me if I leave you here,” Sam’s voice, grunts close to your ear. You nod in agreement before standing quickly and rushing out behind them. A gunshot close to your head makes you stumble to the side and turn quickly at the assault. 

“You think you can just leave? I needed those people and you freaks in suits having ruined everything! Now, you’ll pay.” The man from the office spats, holding out his gun pointing straight at you. You gulp realising that within the midst of chaos you had dropped your only weapon on hand after scuffling with the man in front of you.

“What you did was wrong, Andrews. You think killing me is going to stop you from going to prison? Human experimentation doesn’t go down well here.” You try to reason, keeping your eyes trained on the gun in front. 

“But it would feel so good to put a bullet through your narrow minded head.” He smirks, hand tightening around the gun. You blink quickly, trying to clear your now wet eyes. 

‘He’s going to kill me’ You think, frightened at the thought. 

“Over my dead body he will,” That sweet angelic voice that you love so much, growls from behind you as you watch the swirls of red mist travel past you and wrap around Andrews like a vice. You watch as his eyes widen in fear, his hand loosening around the gun as Wanda lifts him up into the air, her hand twisting ending his life.  You turn around quickly to face her, smirking slightly ready to tease her on how hot she is when she’s angry but the red glare she throws you makes you pause and gulp. 

“That window near the far corner is open, yes?” She questions not fully acknowledging your presence as she moves towards it. 

“Yeah, it broke through after the first explosion. Did the others make it out?” 

“Yes, luckily. You on the other hand..” she stops, shaking her head as to visibly stop her train of thought. 

Before you can apologise for your reckless behaviour, Wanda grabs a hold of you, pulling you tight against her as she jumps through the window using her magic to make our landing as safe as possible. Once on the ground Wanda pulls away from you and walks towards the Quinjet silently, you clench your jaw trying to hold back the frustrated tears. Before you could go and chase after her Steve blocks your path, arms crossed with that ‘I’m disappointed” look he wears whenever we go against his orders, you make a good effort to not roll your eyes at him. 

“What the hell was that, Y/N? You went against every order I gave you. How reckless could you be? You were lucky Wanda got to you in time.” 

“Hey! I knew exactly what I was doing Steve, I assessed the situation and realised we wouldn’t have enough time by the time the others got to me and I was closer to the room! I knew Wanda would get to me in time,” You lie, knowing full well that you doubted you were ever going to get out of there breathing and alive. 

“Well you know what, one of these days Wanda isn’t going to be able to get to you on time or anyone in fact. You have to be more careful Y/N! Consider this a warning.. You do it again, you're off the next mission.” He threatens, but you can see the fight in his eyes. On one hand he needs to be authoritative but he knows deep down he would have done the same. You sigh in defeat knowing that he is right. 

“You got it Steve. It won’t happen again, I promise.” You swear, he nods and sighs in relief before pulling you in for a brief hug before walking side by side with you to the Quinjet.

Once you walk inside, the others lecture and tease you about being so reckless and that you’ll end up like Tony if you aren’t careful, earning an offended ‘Hey!’ from the man himself at the front of the jet. You laugh at their joking but your eyes stray to the brunette figure in the corner of the jet, who seems far more interested in her magic that swirls around her slender fingers keeping herself away from the group and you as much as possible. 

You go to sit next to her and place a hesitant hand onto her knee, making her grab a hold of your hand and subtly shake her head in rejection. Your stomach drops at the thought of having an upset Wanda, knowing her silence is never good, you sit silently near her, never touching until you arrive back at the compound. 

You follow after her out of the Quinjet like a lost puppy as you hear quiet snickering from Sam and Clint. 

“Someone’s on the couch tonight.” Sam jokes to Clint, who chuckles before Nat walks between them, slapping them across the back of their heads at the childishness making them whine and wince. You continue forward hoping that she will talk to you but just as you go to speak she walks through the door of her floor and shuts it closing you off from her. You drop your head against the wooden door and sigh in defeat, a soft hand lays gently against your back. 

“Come on Myshka. Let’s leave our Little Witch alone to cool down. She’s more scared than angry Y/N, she didn’t think she’d get to you.” Nat soothes, guiding you away from your girlfriend's floor and to the communal area. 

“Okay, who wants a drink?” Tony asks, already scanning the liquor cabinet. Everyone cheers tiredly, while you continue to look down the empty hallway where Wanda’s floor is, hoping for her to come and join. 

‘Just give her time.’ You lecture yourself. 

***

You lie in your big, cold king sized bed, facing the ceiling as your mind reels from the day's events fresh from a well deserved shower. You had tried Wanda’s a few more times after a drink with the team but your brunette lover never responded. Sighing in defeat, you slumped your way to your own floor that you haven’t been using much since you and Wanda started dating over three months ago. The room feels cold and bare without the warm and softness of the witch. You lie in bed just hoping that tomorrow you can finally talk to her and make up for your reckless behaviour. With that, you slowly close your eyes and hope for tomorrow. 

The feeling of cool metal pinches slightly against your skin, stirring you awake suddenly at the thought of an intruder. Your eyes open wide and wild, ready to attack before they lay upon emerald eyes with a tint of red flickering around her iris. You open your mouth to speak but with the simple lay of her finger to your lips, you stay silent as she hushes you.

You look towards your left wrist noticing a pair of shining metal handcuffs attached to it as she brings your arm up towards your headboard, bounding you to it before moving to your right wrist. 

“Wanda baby, what are you doing?” You question with a twitch of a smirk already knowing the answer, you watch as a devilish smirk appears on her delicious red lips as she clicks the last pair into place, the weight of her on your stomach welcoming as a deep fire sets low within your navel. She leans down towards your ear and whispers softly with such command and lust. 

“You pull a stunt like that again; you won’t be coming for a month.” Before taking your earlobe between her teeth and dragging it out and licking around the shell of your ear making you moan. 

“Wanda, I’m sorr-” Her lips press against your own silencing your apology.  Her red lips placing a small delicate kiss across your cheek and down your neck, never missing an inch of skin. 

“Mmm, I love satin lace on you.” She comments above you, her hands dipping low and under your top trailing her fingers across your stomach and up towards your breasts. The action causes your stomach to become exposed to the cold air in the room making you gasp at the change in heat against your skin before she dips her head low and places a wet kiss against your navel. She looks up towards you, her mouth still hovering over your stomach as she smirks a little. 

“I’m going to ravish you until you are seeing stars in the night sky, my love. But before that, I want to tell you something.” She informs, leaning back up into a sitting position upon your waist. 

You got to place your hands upon her thighs but wince and grunt at the restriction, feeling helpless against the cuffs. 

“Wanda, untie me so I can feel you.” You whine. 

“You feel helpless, don’t you? To be restrained by something and be unable to reach out and touch me. That’s exactly how I felt today Y/N, I have never felt such terror and dread in my life… to be so helpless. If I had missed you by a split second, that would have been it. I would have lost you.” She confesses, you watch as tears build in her beautiful eyes as she follows the pattern her fingers are creating on your stomach, her chin trembling as she continues to feel you, her touch soft and slow as if trying to memorise every feeling, every touch of you. 

“Wanda please, untie my hands so I can hold you.” You plead, snapping her out of her thoughts. With a flick of her wrists the cuffs become loose as they limp to your sides at the sudden lack of restraint. You quickly pull her to you and hold her close, while she cries into your chest.

With your hands cradling her face, you bring her lips towards your own in a desperate kiss. 

“I promise, I will never go against you or the team again baby. I’m sorry.” You vow, through breathless kisses. With that said, Wanda pulls you closer to deepen the kiss as tongue and teeth clash in desperate need for one another. 

“I’m going to make love to you, moya lyubov and I want you to feel every moment of it.” She whispers against your lip as she grinds low on top of you, her panties under her oversized tee doing nothing to hide how wet she is underneath. You watch as her eyes spark a blood red as she grinds again against you making her groan in pleasure as you feel the rush of arousal hit you. 

“Make me feel, Wanda.” With a mischievous smile, she does exactly that. 

[skylarmoon71]

AU Blind Murdock Reader x Leonardo (TMNT 2014/2016) Chapter 3

“Bitch!!” You grunted, avoiding another punch and firing one of your own.

Let’s just say your current assailant wasn’t too happy with you stopping his little side job. Human trafficking was apparently common for them. Evil bastards. With a swift kick, you knocked him right off his feet. His head hit the concrete harshly, and from the slow breaths, you could tell he was unconscious. You tried gathering your breath for a second, but more thugs were coming. Not a lot of time to rest, just react. You took a few punches, countered as much as you could. Even on your best nights, there was never a point where you left unscathed.

The lash that landed on your stomach brought you to your knees, and you gasped when the male kneed you in the jaw. You fell back, heaving slightly.

“You cost us a whole lot of money you little menace. Should have stayed in Hell’s Kitchen.” The man standing over you stomped on your ribs, and his friends gathered around, kicking you on either side. With clenched teeth, you blocked as much as you could until you could get a hold of him. Gripping his ankle, you twisted and he screamed. Now with them distracted, you jumped to your feet, tackling another male to the ground.

Not anticipating it, he tumbled, and you clocked him in the face immediately. A few more ruthless punches and he was out. You turned, hearing the last man behind you, yelling as he charged. You fully prepared to respond, but something was coming in his direction, quickly too. You skidded to the side, just hearing the metal collide with his head as he fell too.

“You just can’t stay out of trouble can you.”

That cocky voice, you knew that voice.

“I don’t know Raph, I think she helped us. Give her some credit.”

There was no doubt, it was them. One by one you could hear their feet hit the ground.

You raised to your feet shakily, wiping the blood from your lips. You could hear a bit of shuffle, they were tying up the men you’d knocked out.

“You can rest easy, the police will be here soon. You should probably get out of here before they come.” Leo spoke.

“Leonardo…” so a part of your mind was still trying to wrap your head around the whole mutant thing. It would take a while.

“Why don’t we team up, we’re both on the same side!” Mikey was as excited as the first time you met.

“He isn’t wrong. We all care about this city. You don’t have to keep fighting alone. “ He was right, you knew that, but the idea of working with people, depending on them, trusting them...the last time you did that your mentor left you. Stick wasn’t big on feelings, or caring it seemed. Getting close to these guys, it would only cause unnecessary issues.

“I’m fine on my own.”

“Yeah, sure you are. Just look at you. Last time you almost died from blood loss. Now you wanna act all tough. Suit yourself. Next time you get cornered, we won’t be around to save your ass.” Raph really knew how to get on your good side.

He must have assumed you would reply with as much hostility that he just let off, but you turned, flexing your fingers and limping away. 

“I don’t need anyone. “ 

You were fine when you lost your dad, when Stick left. You’d be fine. As long as you kept fighting, you would be okay. You have to be okay.

“I need...to be okay..”

You held back the sob that threatened to leave, not even willing to chance a look as you forced your body to move forward.

Raph watched, feeling a tad bit guilty now. They all did.

You were dragging your right foot behind, and although you were a short distance now, they could hear the quiet whimpers you tried to keep in.

Leonardo felt his heart clench painfully.

You were young, burdening so much, and what was worse, you had no one. At least in the shadows, they had each other. They had family. From the looks of it, you weren’t as fortunate. He knew just how cruel the world could be to people who were different. 

After joining the NYPD, they felt like they were slowly but surely making progress. But you were nothing like them. You faced everyday in the light, probably getting trampled over for your disability, yet still going out every night to fight for a better day. That kind of burden, it would crush an adult, so the fact that you were doing it at such an age, it was terrifying.

Leo clenched his fists, eyes steady as he marched over in your direction.

“L-Leo I really don’t think you should..” Donnie knew his warning would fall on deaf ears, but he still tried. When Leo was standing right in front of you, you stopped, wiping your hand under your nose, trying to keep your voice down.

“Move.”

There was a tremble in your voice, despite your attempt to keep it strong.

“I’m not going anywhere until you agree to join with us. I don’t care if you think you work best alone, or that it is easier to be on your own. You’re tired, and if you keep going like this, you’ll die, and I can’t let that happen. So either you join us, or I fight you right here. Either way, we’re teaming up.”

“Dick.” you grumbled. Leo just smiled. 

“I’ve been called far worse. I’d take any insult if it were a guarantee that you’re safe (Y/N).”

Why the hell did he have to say your name like that.

Like he cared. He barely even knew you.

“So, you’re gonna fight, or you’re gonna let us help.”

You wanted to deny his help, if nothing but to avoid future heartache when they decided you weren’t worth the effort being around. But the warmth that emitted from his words, they gave you a slight hope.

And that’s what scared you the most.

Hope.

“Okay.”

What else could you do? You couldn’t exactly fight him in your state. You were just tired...so tired.

You could only take the chance, and hope for the best.

[scaryscarecrows]

Knight Out

Jason’s crouched on a gargoyle, body aching. What a night. What a night, what the hell, what…

What was he thinking?

“We can fix this. Together.”

There’s no fixing me, he thinks, shifts so his back’s against the building and his legs are stretched out over the chipped stone back. There’s no fixing this.

He’s fucked up. This whole rotten night is his fault, and sure, so he swung back in to play Robin one last time, but...he’s not Robin, not any more. He doesn’t want to be, really, he can’t...Bruce is fallible. He knows that, he’s always known that, but he’s always playing at being so goddamn perfect and he isn’t and okay, so he didn’t mean to leave Jason with that giggling bastard but he did and--

Robin has to believe in Batman or it all falls apart. And Jason hasn’t believed in Batman for years. Probably never will again, not in the way it matters.

He sighs, curls over his helmet and looks at the street below. It’d be easy enough to just...tilt forward a little more, shift his hips and...and fall. He’s up high enough, the fall would do the job, especially if he twisted and made sure he hit the asphalt headfirst, cracked his skull open. Boom. Done. Goodnight, Gotham.

But he doesn’t deserve that. He wants to, but...but look at everything he’s done to Gotham, to Barbara, God...he doesn’t deserve a break.

He tears his gaze away from the enticing street and looks up at the sky. The clouds are thin here, thin enough that if he squints he can see the stars. He sighs, breath fogging in the cold night air, and puts the helmet back on, just for a minute, hoping against hope that there’s someone left to hear him.

“This is the Arkham Knight,” he says. “Calling all units.”

There’s nothing but static for a few seconds, and then there’s a burst of chatter.

“--the boss--”

“--thought he was dead!”

“--Deathstroke said--”

“--Bat bullshit--”

Well, at least they can learn from past errors when he’s not there to hold their collective hands.

“This is a Code Robin,” he says, and that shuts the chatter right on up. Code Robin is something that had been a last-ditch emergency, no way will this happen outside of the planning stage...because he really, really hadn’t wanted to say the word Robin to his men. But here they are, thanks to...to him, really. To his idiocy, his failings. “From this moment on, this operation is considered compromised. I am ordering you to disengage and fall back. Your final payments will be in your accounts by six--” Autopay! The busy militia commander’s best friend. “--but it will be in your best interest to lie low until you leave town.” He sighs. “You’ve done good work tonight, all of you. Knight out.”

He signs off, but before he can pull his helmet back off, his other line, the one six people have, crackles. Well. That’s a pleasant surprise...in theory. It could always be Deathstroke.

He really, really hopes it’s not Deathstroke.

“Yes.”

“Sir.” Ah. Drouot. Always there. Jason’s not sure how that worked out-it’s certainly more than he deserves-but he did get lucky on that one. “Sir, are you...okay?”

He hasn’t been okay for a long time. Maybe not ever.

“Yes,” he lies. “This is just...it’s over. Anyone who’s left should just. Just maybe hole up until Deathstroke’s been handled.” He’ll try, if Bruce doesn’t get to him first. “But if you see an opening to get out...take it.”

Drouot’s silent for a few minutes; long enough that Jason wonders if something’s happened to him. Then, though, “You gonna stay here, sir?”

“Yes.” He...he has to clean up his mess, to make things right. Or at least try to. “It was an honor working with you.”

That, he means. He regrets tonight, would give just about anything to go back even twenty-four hours and call the whole thing off. But...the last few years...there’s some stuff he’d do again. In a heartbeat.

“Likewise, sir. Good. Good luck.”

He has no answer to that. It’s easier to just hang up and take the helmet off before...before he does something else he’ll regret.

The helmet gleams in the neon lights of the donut shop across the street. It doesn’t have eyes, not like the outer shell, but it manages to gaze up at him all the same. He went with the double layer for, admittedly, dramatic reasons; if one layer broke, he could still keep his face covered if he needed to. There would be no unmasking until he was good and ready, thank you very much. And it’s red because, well, he likes red. His mom had gotten him a red hoodie when he was a little boy and he’d loved that thing.

He has to make things right somehow. This is never what he meant, what he wanted...not this. Not the destruction and fear and…

God, he’s fucked up. In more ways than one. But. But Barb was right, about letting Joker win. He won’t win. Jason won’t let him. But he’s not running back to Bruce, he can’t. Not anymore.

But he will fix this. That’s a promise. He won’t be the soldier Joker wanted, fuck him and his Plan J. He’s his own man, he makes his own choices, and…

There’s a scream, a few blocks over. And if it’s one thing that he can’t do-could never do, even if he tried-it’s turn a blind eye.*

He disables the comms and jams the helmet back on, jumps and--

It would be so easy to just let go…

No.

--swings onto another one to build momentum to get up on the rooftop. He will fix this. But right now? Someone needs help.

THE END

*Jason’s origin story has him attempting to foil a museum robbery by himself because he doesn’t think Batman will come. Protect him.

[darkenedreaper]

So Was I

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x reader, Avengers x reader.

Warnings: angst, strong violence, language.

Part 2/?

You heard footsteps close behind you. Multiples heavy ones. And so you found a place to hide, one that you hoped would cover you, as there was no way you could fight them without armour. But you didn’t want to fight them. All of a sudden, a hand grabbed your shoulder and pulled you sideways, away from the footsteps and into a SHIELD storage room. “What the hell is going on!?”

Thank God. It was Maria. She shook her head and put her hands up in the air not wanting to hear your explanation as it would cost her more time in trying to get you somewhere safe.

It was a few weeks after the terrorising incident now, maybe two months or three. Maria had lent you a room in her apartment to stay at. You were ever so thankful. It had been long enough now. Maybe they had looked back over the file. Maybe they’d taken the time to calm down and maybe give you the opportunity to explain. So you were headed over there. Extremely cautiously. Everywhere was quiet. Not a sound from the tv, not a sound from the kettle, not a sound from anything. Making your way with quiet footsteps to check if the Avenger Quinjet was still there. If it was, they’d still be here. If not, maybe they could be on a mission, or at Clints farm. You dreaded the sight. The sight of the big jet with the Avenger logo sitting still as ever. They were here. You gulped and swallowed back down your heart turning around to the slow, approaching footsteps.

It was Cap. And he had something in his hand, hang on was that your-

He threw it in the ground as it landed right beneath your feet. His shield was strapped onto his arm, and his fight stance was in play.

“Put on your suit, let’s go a few rounds.”

As he said that, the rest of the Avengers all started pouring behind him, one by one.

Tony, Bucky, Bruce, Clint, Wanda, even Vision. And. Natasha.

You bent down slowly and picked up your suit button. Holding it in your hand with one click it began to crawl its way up and around your body. The black Kevlar suit was decorated with a few white stripes to match your white arc reactor. They represented a skeletons body, as it had white bone like patterns spreading from your reactor. And finally your helmet, it was simply a black skull. You reached into your back pocket, throwing away your weapons. They were your family, you didn’t want to hurt them, no matter how much they hated you. You didn’t want to hurt her, and you made a promise to her that you would never.

“I don’t want to fight you.”

Silence.

“Now!” Tony yelled and Cap threw his shield at you, distracting you while they al started racing at you. Bucky was the first one to jump onto you, you did your best to block his punches and you tried to hold his metal arm prisoner. That wasn’t a good idea. You were launched backwards on the ground by him.

Steve came over to you and picked you up by your neck, and slamming down onto the ground, effectively damaging your right side. You wriggled out of it, dodging Clints arrow that had tried to pierce you. Then you were face to face with him. Clint took of his sword swiping it at your face, giving you enough time to react and jump backwards. He kept forcing you back until your back hit a little car that helped the workers get around.

You rolled over along the car as his sword slammed down, taking the bonnet right if the car, you picked up a piece of scrap metal that was large enough to act as a shield. You blocked his slashes and stand with it before knocking the katana out of his hands and hitting him on the head with the metal, making him fall to the ground.

“Get her Romanoff!”

“You can do better than that Banner! “Come on do it!”

“Use your shield Cap!”

Before you could check on him, you’d be jumped by the rest of them team before Tony had you in a headlock, then he had flung you onto the floor. He then began to hover above your chest before lowering himself to you, hands wrapping themselves around your neck.

All you could do was try to claw his hands off of you but when they were covered with met it wasn’t an easy task. So you spluttered out,

“T-Tony. Check. File...Please.”

The genuine look of being sorry in your eyes, made him stutter and freeze his motions of his fingers. He had landed in his feet now giving you some attempt to get up. In his head nothing added up.

If you were Hydra, you’d be fighting for your freedom, so why weren’t you. And your muttered words begging him to check the file crossed his mind. His thoughts disappeared though by oncoming footsteps of his fellow teammates all staring at you waiting in anticipation. They could all see how much it was a struggle for you to get up. Both nostrils were bucketing out blood and your armour had several dents. You had been hit several times by the shield, Bucky had attacked your arc reactor and successfully made a handprint around it. But he was down now, after disabling him arm, it had made him not unconscious but surprisingly tired.

Bruce had given you a nosebleed about 15 minutes ago which hadn’t stopped bleeding. Natasha had thrown several knives at you, creating tiny slashes all over. As well as using her thighs to take you down, she had laid several punches to your abdomen and your face. Tony had used his blast refraction once. Obviously wanting to make you suffer.

After so much effort, you finally got back up onto your feet. You grabbed half of a car door scrap and held it as a shield, shadowing Steve’s stance. Tony had lifted his hand up aiming it at you. And in the pod it held a noise that was able to make Wanda pass out, much like Rhodes had in his suit.

All eyes went to Buckys body and Clint who was just starting to wake. Then her eyes met yours. Her eyes held a lot of disgust towards you, knocking her best friend out. How could you? If looks could kill you’d be dead 23 minutes ago. You looked down to the ground, getting your breath back, your arc reactor had weakened, evident by it flickering. You spoke,

“I’m sorry Tasha, you know I wouldn’t do this if I had any other choice. And I can’t, because your my friends.”

“So was I.”

She she signalled Tony to blast you, which would most likely knock you out and your reactions took place and you held up your ‘shield’ as the blast hit it, pushing you backwards and it bounced the scrap metal to them. Flinging them all backwards. Except for Cap. Who had now spot from hiding behind his shield.

You charged towards each other using what but of strength you had left in you to beat his face. And after several punches he grabbed your first mid air and kicked you right in your stomach, making your stumble backwards, before he grabbed your arm and started jamming his shield onto your chest.

However you turned his shield against him, taking it into your own hands hitting his sides with it and his nose causing it to bleed out. You then launched it at him only for it to crash into his chest, catching it. Your heart was getting weaker, they all could tell by your heavy breathing.

You hard metal footsteps start to run towards you again.

“Not this shit again” you muttered.

Friday herself was panicking, practically begging her boss to stop due to the state you were in.

“This has gone too far!”

“Boss please listen!”

“I’m sorry Sir, this has to be done.”

She powered of his suit, as he backed away from the chaos not wanting to possibly get attacked and have no defence but his hands. His back hit the wall and she powered up his Arc.Hologram.1

And in that hologram was a file of the actual Hydra Agent. Her profile picture was there. Not you. Her date of birth was there. Not yours. He took shallow breaths before he finally realised what they were doing and what he’d done. He tried to communicate through the comms but all he heard was grunts of pain, yelling of where to attack.

“Guys. Steve.” He whispered still in complete shock. Friday took over and read out the birth date, and create a mental image of the actual Hydra Agent using her vocabulary.

By now, Steve had picked you up over his head and chucked you down. He’d then mounted you and landed three very painful and heavy punches to your helmet which was starting to wear off. Friday was hurriedly finishing her sentence before he grabbed his shield, jammed it once into you helmet, jammed in twice into your helmet. Ripped of your helmet. Held the shield high above his head, and had crashed it down straight into your arc reactor.

“I can confirm it is not Agent L/N.”

Everyone had gone silent at this and still. Bruce was leaning against a container. Clint has propped himself up onto his elbow, Bucky was still on the floor, his head turned towards you and Steve. Wanda and Vision didn’t take part and could only watch with frowns. Tony had his mouth open, gasping at the sight that stood before him.

And Natasha, was leaning against a cart, tears flooded her eyes as she was frozen in place. After hearing the confirmation she only then realised what she’d done. And now, with what she could see, her heart broke. Seeing a vibranium shield stuck inside of your chest, she had to place her hand over her mouth to stop herself from screaming. But that didn’t stop the tears. Tears had now began to fall down her face.

You lifted your head up from the ground to look at him in disbelief of what he’d just done. You could feel your breathing get heavier as looked at you once, shut his eyes, took three deep breaths and breathed out the word, “sorry”, before he collapsed off of you and by your side. You took a shaky look at him before blinking twice, to clear your tears, and turned your head to the side before back to the front looking at the shield that was lodged right in front of your face.

He got up after a couple of seconds of shaming himself and with a strong grip, he pulled the shield from your chest and placed it elsewhere. He knelt down beside you, tears starting to form in his eyes as he saw your broken form.

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged.

(My gif lol use it as you please)

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[laguera25]

An Open Letter to Richard Z. Kruspe on the Occasion of His 54th Birthday

When I was born, ten weeks prematurely and weighing a scant two-and-a-half pounds, the doctors told my parents not to bother naming me, as I would likely die very quickly, and even if I were to survive, I would likely be blind and helpless and profoundly retarded, unaware of, and unable to engage with, the world around me. Best to leave me be and let nature take its course. A few days of benign neglect, and it would all be over. If they were fortunate, there would be other, better children.

Fortunately for me, my parents gave the double-fingered salute to that bit of medical advice and took me home to do the best they could with very little money and no one to guide them through the strange and terrible country of life with a disabled child. I survived because my very country grandmother chucked out the baby formula that I wasn't digesting and fed me the cow's milk the doctors so solemnly swore would kill me.

There was so many milestones I missed, and of which my parents were deprived. I didn't sit up by myself until I was two. I never walked, never ran, though there are a few faded photos of me gamely pulling myself upright on chairs and the edges of coffee tables, trying to do what my brain said I ought, but my body too weak and miswired too obey. No play with other children, who were stronger and more rambunctious and would have bowled me over in all innocence. And as I grew older, no first dates or driving tests or prom dresses. No thought of an independent life.

What there was was endless rounds of physical and occupational therapy. Hours and hours on a brown vinyl mat, trying to lift my leg or raise my ass off the ground or make my hand write the words in my head. Hours and hours putting change into a slot or trying to tie shoelaces or forcing my hands into uncomfortable plastic splints for a chance at a fraction of more bodily control. While my school friends were out playing in the sun, I was inside beneath fluorescent lights, learning to button my shirt and comb my hair and brush my teeth. To hold a pencil. No time for joy, for peace, for figuring out who I was beyond this collection of aches and pains and deficiencies, just the endless tedium of learning to "be normal" and less of an imposition on the world around me.

And I did go to school. Despite the doctors' dire predictions, I was neither blind nor idiot. I was perfectly aware of the world around me, and smart. So much so that when I was nine, the school ordered an intelligence test. The score was so high that they thought it an error and made me take it again in front of witnesses. When the same score came back the second time, they wanted to move me two years ahead, but my mother, afraid it would both isolate me further and give me airs, refused. So, I stayed, face in the mat and hands in splints, learning advanced history and English, yet forced to put blocks into holes and put colored rings on a stick.

And so I lived this strange paradox for my entire childhood, the genius child that my mother crowed about to all her friends and anyone who would listen, and terrible burden who still had the coordination of a toddler, and who had ruined her dreams of ribbons and curls. When I was nine, she was convinced I could be made "normal"--or closer to it--any road, with a surgery. And so, the surgeons detached the muscles and ligaments in my legs from the bones and stretched them in an effort to relieve the spasticity. The surgeons were doing a kindness to relieve pain; by then, the muscles were so tight that when I was stood on my feet and held up, my feet rolled onto the instep and my knees pointed at each other. It was a measure of dignity.

To my mother, it was supposed to be a miracle, the cure that gave her the daughter she deserved.

I woke up screaming. The muscles and ligaments were unhappy with their new positions and weren't afraid to register their protest about this new state of affairs. They tried to administer morphine, but the levels needed to control the pain were dangerously high for a child, and so I was left to ride it out. I screamed and screamed and screamed. For thirteen hours.

My mother. who was so sure she had found her miracle, was taken into another room by an exhausted surgeon who had done the best he could, and told that at most, I might be able to walk across the room on a walker and take myself to the toilet. She screamed, too, then, at this man who had been on his feet for nine hours, trying to undo the mistakes of the hands that had formed me from the dust of the ground, and who would try to make me laugh every day when he came to check my progress. She called him a liar and a bastard and a son of a bitch, and family lore has it that she would have hit him had my father not intervened.

They tried to tell her. Kindly and patiently and incessantly, but she would not listen. God had told her I would be cured, and dammit, I would be. The day they cut my casts off and sent me home, they told her not to push me too hard, that my muscles needed time to adjust and build endurance. She said she understood, but when we got home, she ordered me to walk uphill to the house. I tried, I truly did, but it wasn't long before I hit muscle fatigue and started to cry. I want to stop, wanted my wheelchair.

And my mother, this woman who had once told the doctors who would have let me die to go fuck themselves, picked up a stick and started to beat me. "Be normal! Be normal!" Screaming and sobbing and flailing with this stick, and me screaming and begging and trying to stay upright. I don't know how long she would've kept going, but eventually, my stepfather appeared, wrested the stick away and threatened to beat her with it, and carried me into the house.

Here I must give my mother a sliver of credit even if I will carry the memory of that beating for the rest of my days. She was right, after a fashion. I did do more than walk across the room with a walker and take myself to the toilet. For a while, I even graduated to forearm crutches and quad canes, which might not sound like much, but when you were expected to do nothing, that's like climbing Everest in your underpants. My wheelchair gathered dust for years, but soon I had to choose between the demands of my education and the demands of my body. The latter simply lacked the energy to fuel both my mind and my muscles to the best of my their abilities, and since school was the only area of life in which I had ever excelled, there was no choice at all. Back into the chair I went. By the time I graduated high school, I could no longer use crutches, and by my third year at uni, even the walker was too much. These days, I cannot move myself without help, and arthritis has set in. I made my choice, and now I pay its price.

I tell you all of this to illustrate that whatever the fool doctors might have said as they clucked and tutted over my incubator, I was keenly aware of the world. Of everything I was missing while my mother insisted I just bootstrap myself out of my disability and be normal. Of her seething resentment of all that I was not. Of her wish that I was someone else.

There were two bands that got me through, kept me sane and kept me moving when all I wanted to do was just lie down and not get up. The first was Metallica, whom I discovered at thirteen, and who told me it was all right to be angry about my circumstances, to kick and scream and argue with God and call him a rotten bastard--as long as I kept living, kept getting up in the morning and trying to inch down the road. I didn't have to swallow my anger for fear of upsetting God and hurting my mother's chances of getting into heaven(my mother believes that I am a test she must pass in order to get into heaven; therefore, my suffering is irrelevant and should never be questioned, lest it anger Him. Don't ask; I don't get it.)

If Metallica was the band that gave me permission to be angry as long as I kept trying, it was Rammstein that told me it was okay to want more from life than an endless regimen of therapy and prayer and gratitude to a God that had, or so it seemed to me, sent me into the world with a ramshackle body and precious little armor or defense against the assholery of my fellow human beings and yet still expected me to praise His holy name allelu. To want joy and friends and human contact. To have a libido and ogle whatever flipped my switches. To, in short, be human, and more than just a symbol of all my mother's broken hopes.

I discovered the band through a book, believe it not. I found a copy of Tom Reynolds' <i>Touch Me, I'm Sick</i> in a Barnes and Noble I had gone into to browse and hide from a cataclysmic thunderstorm, and in it, he began to talk about a band called Rammstein and a song called "Heirate Mich." The more I read, the more gloriously improbable it all seemed, and the harder I laughed. By the time I got to the line, "As the music pounds like a collapsing factory...", there were tears streaming down my face, and I was having trouble breathing. The saleslady must've worried I was having a stroke.

And so it was that I found the key to everything that would come after. From the book to my creaking dial-up Internet(don't laugh, it was what I could afford as a broke-ass cripple on the government dole) to the CD shop, where I blew my food budget on Rammstein CDs and lived on Hamburger Helper for weeks. This is a terrible dietary choice, by the way, but at least I had Rammstein music in my ears all day, every day. A few weeks later, I put another dent in my food budget buying all the DVDs. Ah, the vigor and stupidity of youth. If I tried that foolery now, I'd be semiconscious on the floor in a day and a half. Back then, I had a more stalwart constitution.

I knew by the second song I heard that Rammstein was going to be special to me. My German, which consisted of a year of study in high school and a disastrous two years in college, was pretty poor, but thanks to snooping around Internet forums and squinting at grainy videos, I knew much of your catalogue dealt with taboo subjects. I didn't care. For all its dark subject matter, the music made me want to dance. It made me feel something other than apathy and a persistent wish for this whole mess to be over and my soul to be recycled into a body that didn't make me want to scream until I was too tired to do anything but sleep.

And I did dance. Constantly. Seldom in public because dancing in a wheelchair often looks like the Devil is trying to stick his finger up your ass, but often at home, just shimmying away until the chair developed some alarming creaks and the bolts needed adjustment. Rammstein made me happy. It made me curious. It made me want to see just how much was out there.

And, if I am honest, it made me want to see those silver MC Hammer pants for myself. The combination of those pants and the diaper rash cream in your hair was a striking look for you, if I may say so, though perhaps not so grand as the black spikes and the lion pants you wore with such swaggering panache on the Reise, Reise tour. Alas, this was not to be, as I suppose you had wearied of slathering ass cream for infants in your hair. I can't blame you, though I suppose it must've been a sad day, indeed, for the ointment companies. Still, those Hammer pants and their Reynolds Wrap, space-age splendor will always hold a special place in my heart.

Stymied in my hope to witness for myself the wonders of those Hammer pants--and those lion pants as well, as it turned out, oh, unhappy hour, long may they reign in the storage closet--I nonetheless wanted to see a Rammstein show. Not much chance of that, the morose American fans assured me. The band hadn't come here since they foolishly took the American commitment to freedom of expression at face value and Till and Flake landed in the Puritan pokey for playing Loose the Dachshund into the Badger Burrow in front of delighted fans. Besides, the band's management had scant interest in repeating that little experiment.

Even so, I held out hope. I hung out on message boards and kept me ear to the ground. You can imagine my delight when the MSG show was announced. I wasn't so foolish as to think I could attend, mind you; New York might as well have been the moon for someone who cannot safely fly, but it was fun to indulge in a bit of wistful what-if? What if I could find a way to get there that wouldn't give me a lethal clot? What if I could score tickets? What if I could afford a hotel in Manhattan where the rats and roaches wouldn't kill me in my sleep or carry me off to be devoured in the sewer system? These were all very big ifs for someone who lived in the boonies and was only supposed to spend money on medical expenses and basic bills. Besides, MSG was going to sell out before I could gimp my way to the phone.

Knowing all of this, I took to my blog to whine and moan and feel sorry for myself. It wasn't fair, I whinged to the ether. I had wanted to see Rammstein for so long, but it just wasn't possible. It was too expensive and too far and too haaaaard. And woe is me.

And then...

And then...

And then a bossy German lady dropped a punk alarm in my inbox.

I don't remember now how or why she came to my blog. Maybe she was drawn by an unconventional perspective on life and fandom and moving through the world, or maybe she just wanted to snortle at my friend and I's discussions of your sartorial splendor and the ridiculous dramas going on in the Rammstein fandom at the time. Either way, she'd been been watching my sulking and stropping for a few days, until she'd reached her limit and this woman, who had never said an unkind word to me in years, called me a coward. Just straight up said that I could either find my spine, stop pissing and moaning, and try my hardest to see Rammstein in New York, or I could keep being a coward and making excuses. But make my choice and stop sniveling because she was tired of hearing about it.

At first, I was stunned. Of all the things I had ever been called, a coward was not one of them. Then I was mad. How DARE she call me a coward when she had no idea how much pain I was in most of the time or how difficult it was to move around a world that had never been designed for me and been but grudgingly retrofitted by handymen who thought that grab bars fixed everything!

So I stewed and pouted for a few hours, but the longer I thought about it, the more I realized she was right. I hadn't tried very hard to research my options. I hadn't checked hotels or called the venue or gotten my finances in order. I had claimed Rammstein was so important and meaningful to me, but I hadn't shown it. I had assumed defeat before I'd even started the charge up the the hill and wallowed in self-pity. Sure, maybe I was right and I wouldn't be able to go, but I'd never know if I didn't square up and try.

Before I proceed, a word about the tried-and-true deutscher Fuss zum Arsch(not another aside in a letter full of them, I hear you cry as your eyes begin to glaze. I know, Mr. Kruspe, believe me, but if you speak to the world through your guitar strings, I speak through my keystrokes, and so I beg your patience. We're almost there.). If a German you have gotten to know puts their foot up your ass and calls you on your bullshit, they are not doing it to be a prick, and it's not done with the intent to create hard feelings or demolish your self-esteem. It's harsh, man, is it harsh when you're used to American doublespeak and soft-pedaling, but they're doing it because they see something in you and are trying to stop you from making a dumbass or a jackwagon of yourself. They're doing it because they want to keep being your friend.

So.

Punk alarm duly dropped and head dislodged from ass, I started making phone calls. To the banks do get my money in order. To bean counters to make sure I would have access to it. To Amtrak to discuss their booking options. I went to disability websites and forums to discuss precautions to take in case my health or my equipment gave out on the road. The best hospital for the broke-ass should I get mown down by a taxi while trying to cross the road. Emergency numbers and insurance forms and blah blah blah. A raft of bureaucracy and safeguards and double-checking, all for a concert I might not get tickets for.

But I did, because for once, my disability worked in my favor. MSG sold out in twenty-five minutes, but that venue, bless its heart, doesn't put disabled seating up for general sale. You have to call the disabled patron assistance line, and they don't release unsold disabled seats for general sale until three days before a show. So I called the magic line, and a very amiable fellow talked me through the process. Two weeks later, the tickets were in my mailbox.

I am not ashamed to tell you that when I opened the envelope and held the tickets in my hand, I screamed like a debutante that sat on an upturned spoon. It was really happening.

And yes, my German friend gave me a giant "I told you so!" But she was right, and she'd earned it. Besides, she was happy for me, too.

So I did it. I got on a train(where I soon learned that accessible or not, I couldn't use the toilet because the train swayed too much for me to keep my balance), and I went without eating, drinking, or urinating for twenty-two hours(I do not recommend this to anyone, by the by. It hurt, and it was dangerous)to get to New York. And when I got there, I stood in Penn Station and simply stared because I was somewhere I never thought I'd be. It was simultaneously everything I thought it would be and nothing like I'd expected.

There were still obstacles, of course. There always are when you have two hands and four wheels and see the world through asses and elbows. Clutching my luggage while my trusty and ever-present companion pushed me over the cracked sidewalk with one hand and dragged the rest of the luggage behind him. Finding out that the "accessible" hotel room was, in fact, not all that accessible and wrenching my knee every time I used the toilet. Being accosted by my first sidewalk screamer within ten minutes of being in the city. Meeting my first hustler.

Freezing my ass off outside the venue for four hours before the show and called not fan enough by other fans because I didn't do it for fourteen, because hey, if you were really a fan, you'd risk pneumonia to see the show, even if it would kill you. Being shunted and shuffled to four different doors by event staff because no one could agree on where the disabled fans were supposed to enter. Being let into the building to warm up by an MSG employee, only to be booted out by event staff three minutes later. Whee! Aren't the logistics of being disabled fun?

But Mr. Kruspe, it was all worth it. I've never felt an energy like that before. Whatever snitty elitism some of the fans might have been nursing outside, inside MSG, we were all fans, all people who had waited and wished for this for a very long time. The primal roar from the crowd when the band began to break through the wall raised the hairs on my nape, and you'd better believe that I joined them with all of my energy.

From the first note, I forgot my pain. It was still there, mind, waiting for me, black-toothed and patient as the grave, but I was beyond it, in a state of suspended euphoria. No pain, just joy. I watched everything as best I could despite my near-sightedmess and my rather distant seat. I soaked it all in--the music and the unapologetic bombast, and the pageantry of the fire. It was all so starkly, darkly beautiful, and according to my companion, who has all the sentimentality of pavement, when he looked over at me during "Ich Will", I was "radiant." He, who had known me for thirteen years by then, said he'd never seen me like that before, and that he would never forget it.

It was not without price. These things never are. There was another train journey and another twenty-two hours without access to a toilet, and by the time I got home, I was so strung out from lack of food, water, and sleep(because trufax, it is hard to sleep when your bladder is trying to pop out of your skin from the pressure)that I cried like a toddler on the drive home. And then I went home, peed forever, drank, ate, and collapsed for seventeen hours.

But it was worth it. It was so worth it that on the band's next go-round, I took a cross-country roadtrip to Vegas, during which I peed much more often, thank God, but I also fought ants and roaches in a hotel room in Texas and stayed in a room so gross I slept in my clothes and threw them out when I got home. But it, too, was worth it, just as it was worth it to get in the car and drive to Florida and Atlanta on the next tour after that.

I told you ALL of these things, Mr. Kruspe, to tell you this. I saw your interview in that documentary about depression in 2010. I heard you say you felt worthless unless you were creating.

I don't know what you're worth to anyone else, but to me, you are priceless, and always will be. Without you, there would be no Rammstein, and for me, there would have been no reason to try, to spread my wings and take a run at that hill. Without you, I might have given up, might have let my mother win, and maybe now, I'd be sitting in some care home, stewing in my own yellowing stink and getting a bath once a week and a monthly outing and rotting from the inside out. Without you, I might never have taken the chance, never pushed myself.

But you were, and are, and because of that, I did. Because of that, I saw New York, and moved, however briefly, among that anonymous throng. Because of that, I met the sidewalk doomsayer and the exasperated hustler. Because of that, I tried New York Pizza(and yes, I saw a rat, but he minded his business, and I minded mine). Because of you, I heard a Cajun patois in Louisiana and watched out the window of the car as the Texas plains unwound around us. Because of you, I saw the night sky on the outskirts of Vegas and was escorted back to the Strip after the show by two Native dudes who walked far out of their way and called me little sister. These are gifts I got from you because you were, and are, and they have sustained me ever since. They sustain me now that my world has been reduced to the four walls of my house as I ride out the pandemic in a country that believes people like me are an acceptable sacrifice.

I know this won't change things for you, won't quiet that awful voice in your head. Depression doesn't work like that, and even if it did, I am just a stranger you will never meet. But maybe it will give you something to hang on to, something to think about on the bad days. Christ knows you kept my head above the water when all I wanted to do was let it go under.

Happy Birthday, Mr. Kruspe. May it bring you joy and all that you need.

Guera

[all-that-tmnt-jazz]

Hiii, so I noticed that in your mashups in the extra info part you always put which one of the boys we would be good friends with, so I was wondering if you could describe how it would be like being best friends with each of the guys :))))

Aww, I’m glad you’ve noticed! I’m actually genuinely happy that people have noticed this- I’m really glad I get to write about it now. I got you, fam

Warnings: None.

Incarnation: Bayverse

Extra Info: All of the boys have a s/o that is not the reader

Leo:

He’s usually very protective of you

He is with a lot of the humans he knows

(You, his s/o, April, Casey, the NYPD, and Vern rather reluctantly)

He often talks to you over a pot of tea or coffee in his morning- your early afternoon

This is truly one of the few times he gets to be alone with you

Since you’re also friends with his brothers, despite them all knowing you’re closest to him

You’re often the one who brings him gifts for his s/o for a few reasons

A) He’s embarrassed to ask April, Casey, or Vern. B) He doesn’t want to ask his s/o to buy their own present. C) You are often the one he talks/brags to about his s/o, so you basically know them as well as he does

And actually, since you’ve met his s/o, you’ve considered introducing him to your s/o

But not without his consent/knowledge, of course

Especially since you know he wants the existence of himself and his family to be kept a secret

But when he agrees, something clicks in your head about how close you two are

“I trust you. If you trust your partner, why shouldn’t I trust them as well?”

Raph:

Honestly, he complains about Leo to you more than he does to Mikey

You give your honest, blunt, outside opinion on shit, which is something Mikey could never do

And Raph loves it

You actually offer to spar with him a lot, mostly so he can get the physical stimulation

And you also know he would win every time- you’re good a ninjutsu, but you’re sucky at sparring compared to him

He often takes out the Tartaruga Truck, telling Donnie it’s to keep the gears turning, but he’s actually going on a joy ride with you riding shotgun

You guys often go through Harlem or over the Hudson and into New Jersey

(Everything is legal in New Jersey)

You, of course, had known about Raph’s partner

Since Raph is the literal worst at flirting (surprise), you’re the one who taught him tricks on smooth talking

And it worked, since his s/o agreed to date him on the first time he asked

He was giggling like a school girl when he told you that night

As he was texting them, he did need your help with responses, so you were constantly looking over his shoulder

It took a year and a half of knowing Raph before you were actually introduced to his brothers

(And honestly, Leo was much nicer and much more respectful than Raph had drawn him to be- given, Raph is a jealous little brother)

But Mikey automatically asked if you two were dating

“Mike! No! I’m dating *insert s/o’s name*, and you know this!”

Mikey surrendered, laughing

You had met his s/o a few days later

When they came into the Lair, you introduced yourself and they hugged you

“Thank you for helping Raph speak properly around me.”

Donnie:

You two had actually met online in the chat room of a videogame

Soon, you two had exchanged numbers

And you were texting non-stop

Then, you propose the idea of meeting

He only reads the message. He doesn’t respond for days

It’s nearly a week before he responds

“Can you keep a secret? Like, life-or-death secret?” he texts you

“Why? Are you hurting yourself? Let me come to you.” You text back

“No, it’s not that. I just look different. Just… Meet me on the rooftop of the building that’s at the corner of 4th ave and 12th street. I’ll explain there.”

You don’t question it. Maybe he has a disability that he’s scared to share or something like that.

It happened to fall in the “something like that” category

“You know how my character in *insert game here* is a turtle who does ninja?” a voice asks you from the shadows- you recognize it as his since you’ve used voice chats before

“Um… Yeah?” you respond.

He stepped out of the shadows, and you gasped

There’s a long silence

He thought you were going to scream, yell, or call the police- especially since you didn’t know they were on his side.

You break it

“I always thought you’d be one to have glasses.”

He smiled like a child on the morning of their birthday

“Well, they were the ones that best fit my needs,” he shrugs.

You roll your eyes

“You’re a dork.”

From there, it’s nightly meetings on the rooftop of your building- which was only a few blocks away

You tell him about your partner, and he tells you about his

Often, these conversations went like this:

“Oh my god, you two are literally soulmates.”

“Right? I can’t believe I got so lucky…”

Mikey:

You actually met Raph first while he and his brothers were on patrol

You had entered the rooftop moments before they arrived onto it, and you hid behind the building that protected the stairway, hoping they wouldn’t notice

Until you accidentally knocked over an old, abandoned ladder

And the hothead grabbed you and pulled you into view

Mikey immediately got you out of his brother’s grasp

“Don’t hurt ‘em, Raph!” Mikey had said, then checked if you were okay

Once you were all set, Leo demanded you keep them a secret

In your shock, you nodded

Mikey protected you, though

“We don’t need to scare them, Leo. We don’t want them to faint like April did.”

You felt comfortable with him, especially since he was so relaxed and protective of you while the others were basically threatening you

Before you had gone back down to your apartment, he found a way to sneak you a piece of paper with his number on it

You texted him later that evening, thanking him

“No problem! My brothers can be a bit harsh. We’re all a bit scared of people disapproving of us, though. We’ve been called monsters before.” He admits when he texts you

“That’s awful! You’re not monsters.”

After weeks of getting together in private, he takes you into the jumbotron of Madison Square Garden

You reunite with his brothers and meet someone you’ve never met before

“Hey guys,” you say. “And you are…?”

“This is *insert s/o’s name*, my partner. I’ve mentioned them, right?”

“Only about a thousand times,” you chuckle. “A pleasure to meet the person behind the name.”

[autisticchicc]

Unstructured Autism Rant

A/N: For COVID reasons, mask is purely metaphorical in this piece, not an actual face mask, the work scenario was something that happened pre-COVID.

Trigger Warnings: In-depth descriptions of autism-related struggles and meltdowns.

Disclaimer: This is my personal experience with autism, that is not to say that this is the experience of every person with ASD.

“Have I solved your issue today?” I ask the customer on the other end of the phone. I have; I don’t know why I’m asking this. The customer confirms I have, and I wish them goodbye, a good day, and thank you for calling the business. I don’t care if they have a good day, and I why on earth would I thank them for calling us? The entire interaction went on for far too long for my liking thanks to small talk and the customer pushing pointless information about themselves onto me. He told me he was sketching by the riverside, but why do I need to know about that? How do I respond to a piece of information that does nothing to or for me? Upon hanging up, I breathe a sigh of relief. The mask slips off my face slightly as I rub my temples.  

The relief is short-lived, as one of my co-workers comes over to my desk to talk about something. I take a deep breath and pull the mask back on properly before forcing myself to engage enthusiastically in this conversation. I don’t know this co-worker that well, I know nothing about how she talks, her personality, or her humour, only that I have a huge margin for error in this conversation. I concentrate intensely, trying desperately to make sense of her rapidly changing facial expressions and knowing when it’s my turn to talk. After interjecting at the wrong time on several occasions, I give up and just respond meekly when there’s an obvious gap. I feel embarrassed and awkward, and when she walks away, I kick myself. Why is it so hard to have a simple conversation? I’ve yet to make any friends at this job, and I don’t think I ever will at this rate.

I swivel back to face my two screens and lament the lack of a blue light filter on this software. My eyes ache, and the dog (yeah, don’t ask) on the upper level of the open plan office keeps barking. The occasional trilling of a phone irritates me more than usual as the late afternoon sun glares through the floor to ceiling windows at my photosensitive eyes. I can’t close the blinds because my co-workers love the sun, but I’m rapidly approaching a meltdown thanks to overstimulation, exhaustion, and following vague instructions all day. It feels as though every piece of sensory stimuli is stabbing at my eyes and ears. At the end of my shift I clock out and leave without saying goodbye to anyone. I don’t know them well enough to feel comfortable going out of my way to say anything in the first place.

Upon exiting the building, I cover my ears with my big headphones, the relief that washes over me is immense. All those invasive sounds are gone now, and I can listen to whatever I want. I still feel on edge, still teetering close to a meltdown, so I choose not to worsen it by listening to something that would fuel my anger. Sometimes it’s necessary, sometimes I desperately need to hear the pained screams of Pete Steele, the aggressive guitars and lyrics of Body Count. But today, I need something that isn’t going to give me the encouragement to punch the first person that triggers my rage.

For me, music is transformative and transportive. When I listen to particular songs with noise-cancelling headphones, it’s allows me to go somewhere in my imagination while my body moves to my real destination on autopilot. I decide on an uplifting song by The Knocks and Big Boi, Big Bills. It’s a song that makes me feel like a character in a movie that has just moved to a new city and is pursuing an exciting new life. To an extent that’s sort of true for me, minus the excitement and plot armour. Either way, it’s an uplifting song for me. So much so in fact, that I listen to it on repeat all the way home. If something interrupts the song, like an announcement on the tube or having to pause it, I have to restart it or it’s not the same.

When I eventually arrive home, the transformation happens. The moment my bedroom door closes, and I turn my headphones off, it begins. The outcome of this transformation can be vastly different depending on how my day went. It might be that it was a successful day socially, so I leave my phone out of sight and silently bury myself in a hobby for hours in order to recharge. It might be that the mask comes off and I begin to scream and sob, breaking anything I can to stop myself from self-injuring, burying the heels of my hands into my eyes to block any light. The transformation varies, but it is always the result of the same thing: suppressing who I am.

Much of being autistic and being forced to operate in a society catered to neurotypical people, for me, is suppressing my natural instincts and behaviour. Even when I have a positive day socially, it’s often contingent on how well I assimilated with other neurotypical people in that particular interaction. This is frustrating because not only am I exhausted because hardly anyone accommodates for me, I am also measuring the success of my day on other peoples’ standards. Many of my interpersonal relationships also operated that way until fairly recently, I was forced to behave and communicate the way that other people expected me to rather than what felt natural to me. There is only so many places and so much time I can maintain this act for, and so I was forced to simply cut those friendships off. I am no longer willing to negotiate my needs with people that clearly don’t like me enough to respect my disorder.

The friends I keep are mindful, lovers of the eccentric, embracing that which is different and persecuted for it. Often times I find that the people closest to me also have parts of their identity that mean they must also wear a mask of sorts when moving through society, be it racist society, patriarchal society, or queerphobic society. Our arms interlink on the fringes of an abstract hierarchy, turning away from the status quo and pursuing a life in truth and diversity. One day I’d love for everyone to be able to live authentically, for discrimination, isms and phobias to fade away into the past. I don’t see it happening in my lifetime, or perhaps ever, but I hope it does eventually.

In an ideal world, I would only interact with those aforementioned friends and no one else, but as we’ve established, that is not the world we live in. The reality is, I almost never get to interact with people who accommodate for me. I deal with people touching me without permission which makes my skin crawl, forcing me to take my headphones off when I’m fending off a meltdown, managers who don’t give me the specific step-by-step instructions I need, classmates who don’t understand that I don’t talk because I’m too shy, not because I’m unfriendly, lecturers that forget I can’t operate well in group work and can’t be in classrooms with harsh, fluorescent lights… The list is endless. Even going to the shop is a struggle, because the employees have no way to know. Although Tesco’s have been considerate and ‘progressive’* enough to introduce sunflower lanyards (https://www.tesco.com/help/invisibledisability/), most stores have absolutely no assistance in place for customers with hidden disabilities. I just have to hope that they don’t speak to me and that I don’t end up getting overwhelmed and having to ask anyone for help.

In a lot of ways, this pandemic has meant that I can avoid quite a lot of the scenarios that would usually cause me stress. I no longer work (admittedly, this causes more stress than it relieves), I don’t have to attend class in person, there is little to no in-person socialising, family events are cancelled, seasonal holidays are cancelled, queuing and crowding is no longer allowed (without distancing), etc. That has all been excellent and a relief. But on the flip side, it has given rise to a whole host of new problems. I hate being on camera or speaking in online lessons, there is no way for me to remind the teacher subtly I can’t do group work, masks trigger heat-related meltdowns for me, the financial instability of being unemployed has been a huge stressor, and the lack of government support is utterly enraging. 

Overall, it’s been a huge adjustment. The job that I talked about my experience with at the beginning of this rant is long gone now, so many things have changed. I have never dealt well with change, but this year has forced me to. In some ways I suppose you could say this is a positive development, exposure therapy is best at times. I just wish it had been more on my terms and not at the hands of a viral pandemic. 

[dynocation]

🌈⭐️The DTL Mods scared of being called out so they make a callout post about me in secret.

Get ready for a juicy story newcomers. This is a fun one.

Granted there are people in the dtl amino that still like me, so the word got back to me. These people literally are incapable of understanding, that yeah people can lie (ChibiTacoLord) and be toxic behind the scenes. There’s a reason why Taco doesn’t have many friends and I do. Not trying to diss or anything.

⭐️Addressing The People Making Testimonies⭐️

Ark - Person in the dtl community that would bully multiple people calling their art trash and making fun of people’s mental disabilities. I sent screenshot evidence to Bregee. She dismissed it saying “He’s my friend. That’s just how he is.”

It wasn’t him just attacking me either, I could careless about random nobodies reeing at me, but he was attacking some of the nicest people in dtl community. Calling their art terrible and hoping they’d die, and because of him multiple people left the dtl community. I was contacting Bregee as a voice for these people because they were scared to say anything, and she brushed it aside. “He’s a friend.” Despite me giving her fair warning that Ark is a douchebag she allowed him to stick around and what does he do? He goes on FurryAmino calling people “faggots” and their art “cringe”. Am I suppose to go “Poor Ark”? I legit feel no sympathy for him. He sabotaged the DTL Discord all on his own, yet I get blamed for it apparently. No thank you. I do not claim Ark as my responsibility. You made it clear he’s your two year old to handle. I’m also not banned from Furry Amino as Bregee has said. I’m still using it and have been for years, being featured, and making friends there, and will be a curator on it here soon.

Ark went on there screaming how he hates me and people tore him apart for it. (He basically just called my art cringe and the people who like it are cringe too).

In furry culture, you do not attack an artist without evidence, and Ark didn’t have any. (In regards for me being bad at commissions)

In shame he left the amino and deleted his account/hid it from me(one of the possibilities, he could’ve been banned due to breaking numerous rules) blaming me for people yelling at him. I didn’t say anything other than telling people to leave him alone and let staff deal with him. People were not kind to him, granted he was personally attacking people. People were pulling apart his arguments and pushed him off the amino. I wasn’t made aware of it till later when people were gloating about it to me, sharing me images of him getting spammed with clown emojis. That’s a funny lie for him to tell though in an attempt to save face. If he goes around saying I’m banned there, because I’m one of the biggest community members and still to this day. People on there message me everyday telling me it’s becuase of me they pursue art and love to animate. Maybe Ark is just an idiot though and just learned how to use the block button? And thought block was the same as a ban? Wouldn’t be the first a DTL Amino/Discord person learned that.

BakiDance - I worked with them to solve the raid issue. I said nothing nazi related except when I was @ by Ark and I made a joke in response to him.

Alli - Would ask me to do sexual Roleplay when I was 11-12. WOULD ASK ME, and I would do them becuase I didn’t understand at the time. It was like incest/rape/gore shit. She then would call my art shit and call me homophobic. When called out for it, she went to the excuse “oh we sexual rp’d”, as if that doesn’t also look bad back on her.

Bregee- She invited me back to the DTL discord and I told her no becuase she doesn’t curate it. She got offended. Then showing me like a 10 page document of new rules for her discord which made me cringe. (It was massive and full of inconsistencies) She then messaged me again, asking me about the New Years. I gave her a short stiff response, because of the Ark situation I had a distrust of her. She was doubly offended. She then randomly accused me of befriending nazis/pedofiles, which I found funny because, number one, she doesn’t know my friends, number two, she doesn’t know me. She’s like a hate Stan. Literally, she looks at my art and obsesses over it to a negative degree. She’s joined my discord, follows me, dms me. I know she hangs out with Taco/Alli some of the most toxic people in the dtl fandom, so hh. Unless she wants to say otherwise.

Chibi Taco Lord - Would ask me to do sexual rps, and I would decline, because of the bad experience I had with Alli, she promised me she woulnt be like Alli so I agreed once and it was okay. I’m an adult, Taco is an adult. I sexual rp to this day if both parties are adults and consent to it.

When it comes to abuse art. It’s the Pot calling the Kettle black. Taco made a whole story about her Drew getting raped and beaten by Wilfre and shared it with me. Abuse art of her Drew that she drew still exists to this day too btw on the dtl amino. So if you banned me due to my depressed Wilfre comics. Guess you gotta purge a whole lot more people, becuase sad comics are banned. Edgy art is banned. I think it’s stupid, but come on, don’t be hypocritical.

This isn’t an accussation out of nowhere either. I have screenshots of her doing this, drawings she’s made, and testimonies of “bystanders” who witnessed her asking for sexual abuse roleplay, Roxy nonetheless (a curator on the amino has witnessed this). I only share this info becuase she moved goal posts from “I hate how Baki’s posts has a lot of likes on it”, to “Baki only hates me becuase im autistic”, to now “Baki is a sexual deviant”. I will remove this embarrassing incriminating evidence of ChibiTacoLord, if the DTL Amino staff remove their slanderous take on me. Otherwise, I don’t care, becuase I’m open about my fetishes and I see nothing wrong with them. You can’t say I’m wrong for having the fetish and the DTL Amino staff is okay to have that fetish and post it frequently. Hyprocrites.

My character Cope: Hes literally not a nazi lol! You either have to be a conspiracy theorist, liar, or delusional to think so.

He’s a raposa from Lavasteam, wears a red camo outfit, with golden medals. He’s politically a dictator. Runs a military state. He’s the villain in my stories.

So I don’t see why that’s a problem? What? Are villains just no longer allowed in stories.

Cope is adored by a lot of people. I get requested often to make a comic of him/make a game with him in it. Only a few crazies dislike him and go spouting ‘nazi’.

My friends: I have several friends and none of them are nazis. Absolutely delusional to think I would be friends with someone who hates me. I am friends with Roxy though who ended up having to leave the Drawn To Life Amino staff due to the toxicity of the members. A painful reminder for those people.

—

🌈⭐️Conclusion🌈⭐️

These people are mentally broken and delusional with hate. I find it funny though. They make these little hate spaces, think they’re private, but the word always gets out.

You know what we call people who gather together to hate on one person for superficial reasons?

Get ready to scream. It’s called people a HATE GROUP. Take that to your political obsessed brains.

Anyways, if you see these people. Don’t spam or hate on them. It just fuels their hate for me.