#If you want my parking space you have to have my disability too

[chronicallyillandcoping]

I wake up in pain, spend all day in pain then go to sleep in pain. This cycle then repeats on a never-ending loop. But sure Karen feel free to complain that i get a parking space closer to the door than you.

[puppmeo]

And the cycle begins anew . As it does every week

[thatdemiboymess]

Both my computers have given up on life and I am so sad and so very bored. Couldn't even do my full Gaia dailies, today. 😞

[dailymanners]

If you're like me, you may have had the feeling that since lockdown people have been ruder, more aggressive, and lacking in compassion. The bad news is, you might be right. Some studies and data coming out show that people have gotten ruder and more aggressive since lockdown (x)(x)(x). And the thing is, if even a few people have gotten ruder and more aggressive over the past few years, that's unfortunately spreading. Rudeness and aggression are contagious, if someone feels stressed and upset and like the world is against them because of constant cruelty and apathy from others, they may be likely to adapt the same attitude and spread this attitude even more.

However, there's good news too! Kindness, courtesy, and compassion are also contagious! Acts of kindness and compassion uplift others and inspire them to do the same. You have the power to start a ripple affect with acts of kindness, compassion, and just good manners. You have the power to put the breaks on or even reverse this trend in aggression and hostility that's popped up the past few years.

I made this blog because I'm tired of the constant hostility I've witnessed in public over the past few years. I think we have the power to do better, if we're only reminded.

Now you may be wondering, why do good manners even matter? Aren't they just a bunch of dumb rules made up by old dead people? Well, maybe some manners like "no hats indoors" or "no elbows on the table" are arbitrary and honestly it's harmless not to follow those, but that's why I won't be focusing on good manners that have no clear purpose behind them in this blog. In this blog, I'm going to focus on manners that matter.

By manners that matter I mean, manners that have a clear and definable purpose of showing compassion and empathy to other people. Your words and actions have consequences in how they affect the people around you, manners make sure that they affect others in a good way. Manners are the true social lubricant that makes sharing both private and public spaces with other people better for everyone. Going to work, going to restaurants and shops, and using any public space like roads, sidewalks, and parks is going to be better for everyone if we're all being considerate and compassionate to those around us. And this matters because, just like I said earlier kindness is just as contagious as cruelty, so when you're kind and polite to others it will circle back around to you eventually either way.

This is also why I'll be posting an explanation for every manner I post. I myself an neurodivergent so I understand the importance of needing an explanation behind manners. And even if you're not neurodivergent I understand why you wouldn't want to just blindly follow an old social rule without being given a good explanation. This is why I'll always explain why it's polite to do x. Why it's beneficial to you and/or others.

And always remember for every manner I post, I am not forcing you to do any of these. If you are unable to do any given manner I post for any reason, or you just don't want to, you are free to ignore it and simply carry on with your life. Of course if you're a wheelchair user it's going to be harder to open doors for others or if you're non-verbal it's not going to be possible to say excuse me whenever you accidentally bump into someone. Consider this my disclaimer that any of these that you are unable to do due to a disability you are not obligated to do.

[cy-cyborg]

Can we talk about how dangerous petrol stations can be for wheelchair users? Because I feel like this is something that gets overlooked by pretty much everyone.

A lot of Australian petrol stations have a sign somewhere that tells wheelchair users to beep their horn and the worker will come and help you. But not a single station I've been to has ever actually told their workers this is what they're supposed to do, so most just ignore you when you do it. I've also been sworn at by other drivers who thought I was beeping at them.

So you have to get out of the car and assemble your chair - which takes a good minute, but to be able to do that, you need to park far enough out from the pump to allow the space to actually assemble the chair, if your fuel door is on the driver's side, which usually results in you parking in a way that partially blocks the road or is too far for the pump to reach. If your fuel door is on the passenger side, you have to assemble your wheelchair in the road between pumps (and people are often not looking for something as short as a wheelchair user in that environment).

When its busy, navigating around between your car, the pump and the store is also really dangerous, because again, people aren't watching for a wheelchair user (I also have the same problem on my short prosthetics, and I imagine little people would have the same issue). I've almost been hit a few times because people just didn't see me. Pay-at-pump makes this easier and safer because you dont have to go in, but I live rurally, not every place has that option (assuming I can even reach the keypad on the pumps that do).

Then there's getting back in. You have to disassemble your chair again, which can take time. Only about a minute or so, but that hasn't stopped people beeping and yelling at me for taking too long and holding up the line for the pumps when it's busy.

My old work van was fitted with a side wheelchair lift so we didn't have to do the assemble/disassemble bit, but we couldn't use it at petrol stations because the fuel door was on the same side as the lift, which meant we needed to leave a little over a meter between the van and the pump to get out, and most pumps don't have that much reach. a few stations specifically for trucks (as in, big 18-wheeler trucks) did, but that just increased the "people can't see you" risk even more because we were even less visible to truck drivers due to truck blind spots.

It's all well and good to mandate that petrol stations have a disabled parking space out the front, but that doesn't make them actually accessible or usable to disabled drivers. We don't all have someone with us to help, we shouldn't need to. I got my car modified so I can drive it on my own, without the aid of other people, I want to be able to safely put petrol in it on my own too, which, as of right now, depends on inaccessible public inferstructure.

[unmaskingdisability]

So you want to die (but shouldn't do that)

A list of ways I force myself to keep going even when my entire body is on fire & my brain feels like it's going through a cheese grater

MAKE A PLAN WITH SOMEONE YOU ACTUALLY LIKE - Not a friend you have to gear yourself up to hang out with. A good friend, that will cost low spoons, and plan to do something you enjoy. Nothing extravagant that requires a lot of energy, and it doesn't even have to be in the imminent future. Make a dinner plan for next week and think about that lilac lemonade you've been wanting to make for them. Make a plan to hang out later this month and watch anime with your friend that's good at bullshitting and making you laugh. You won't want to do this when you can't imagine leaving your bed. Do it anyways.

DRAG YOUR EXHAUSTED ASS OUTSIDE - Dress in as many layers as you need or just wrapped in a blanket. Wear sunglasses and headphones if you need. Don't force yourself to do anything, except being outside for at least a few minutes. Sometimes it's cold and wet and all I can handle is walking out for a minute. Sometimes it's warmer and pleasant and now I'm exhausted slumped in the sun or under a pine tree instead of in a dark dirty (mine is anyways bc of the wanting to die and pain) room

VENT - Look I'm the master hypocrite. I run a disability group and I still haven't told pretty much anyone in my life I had to quit my job after my body broke down too far too fast. I advocate emotional vulnerability all day and will legitimately enact it constantly, about everything except how fucking miserable and hopeless and depressed and in pain and scared I am. You don't want to tell anyone because you're convinced they already hate you or are about to leave. I'm not gonna say you need to get over that tonight. But you gotta get it out of your head and your muscles and your body. You've gotta write or draw or splash paint (I will literally fingerpaint just colors sometimes) or hack up invasive plants or make poetry or cry to the person you do feel comfortable talking to. You've gotta get it out You've gotta get it out and also! If being honest about your life and difficulties does push people away fuck them!! Community is everything and that's something they never were, so it's space for something real

GO SOMEWHERE NEW AND BEAUTIFUL - This is one of the hardest things to do when depressed, but if helps so much when you can get yourself somewhere new & exciting and show your brain good things are still happening. For me, this looks like going to a new park, or science/art museum, or to see some pretty lights strung up for the holidays. Nowhere so crowded or busy it'll be too overwhelming, you just need to show your brain everything isn't awful static and get some dopamine pumping.

I'll keep adding to this because I'm full of too much spite and exhaustion and reluctant extreme caring so much to leave you all alone in this shithole

[frankiensteinsmonster]

I need the abled bodied students on my campus to stop using the fuckin disableds' door when they all want to file out because they don't feel like holding the door.

Because as soon as people started ACKNOWLEDGING ME it was all Shameful Looks and Sorries as I had to stand there. In the sun. In pain. While perfectly capable people hogged the only accessible door that side of the building. I didn't have any extra hands because I was using my cane and a hand bag because I'm Allowed To

And no one even. Stepped to the side to push open one of the other doors for me (which were inaccessible pull doors from the side I was on) so like. So fucking much for "sorry".

Actually. I'm going to TELL. someone to hold the door for me next time. Imma tell em too because that was so Bullshit not to mention!!!! They were pushing on the door when it was trying to close! That BREAKS THE DOOR UGH I'M SO DONE WITH THESE PEOPLE They're so Selfish and Ignorant and couldn't even practice the free will required to realize a hall of students divided by 4 door will actually go my much faster than one.

Imma stand in everybody's way next time and tell them go through the other doors. Fuck them the door isn't even For them and it's not My fault they didn't "think a disabled person would be here to use it" STOP!!!! TOUCHING! OUR SHIT!!! Stay out our bathrooms, stop piling through our doors, taking up our parking spaces, touching US-- we NEED this space, and you Don't. You're not a clever little guy for using shit that isn't for you, you're not gaming the system by saving yourself a fourth of a second by using these slow ass doors and breaking them in the process. The accessible bathroom isn't a dressing stall or a luxury bathroom. You're a fucking literal pain in the ass to disabled people. You make our lives worse. You're an inconsiderate person and an inconvenience to people who have it hard enough. Anyways, let me go lay down. My back hurts.

[drdemonprince]

That ask about small talk and fear reminded me: a few days ago my partner and I were at our local café. I went to use the restroom and found the toilet seemingly backed up, so went and told a worker since I didn't want to try using it and then make it worse. A random guy who'd been there for a while came over and said "Want me to take a look at it?" We all thought it was Weird and Creepy but he genuinely just wanted to help, and managed to fix it! It was great! He was just a kind stranger wanting to help. And as we left later it hit me how sad it is that fear was our initial reaction. I wish I would've thanked the guy instead of being awkwardly frozen. But it also gave me a little hope and a reminder that most people are just like me, just a person trying to enjoy the life we have and be nice to others.

Yes, I really do believe that if we are invested in mad pride and disabled liberation at all, we gotta take that initial knee-jerk reaction of "this person is weird" or "this behavior is breaking unspoken social scripts" and throw it into the fucking garbage.

No one is a bad person for feeling wary in that way, it is a socially conditioned response -- but it is very dangerous. It's the same kind of thing that leads to people covering their homes in security cameras and calling the cops on children knocking on their neighbor's doors in search of their missing cat. You probably would never do anything of that nature, of course! But it's all part of the same social ideology. And that ideology keeps you isolated and less likely to seek help -- it doesn't keep any of us safe.

Personally I LOVE talking to fucking WEIRD PEOPLE. I spent an hour this summer at a picnic table talking to a tweaked out guy covered in facial tattoos and scales about my aura and the psychic journey he was on and shit. It turns out that he was a trans woman in the 1980s but he didn't have the language for it! He was drawn to me because he could tell I was gender-weird too, and because he said I had a very open looking soul. I could scoff at that or I could be afraid of him, but why??? He was fucking cool! he had a ton of fascinating life experiences and is friends with a lot of the other people I see on the streets in my neighborhood. Turned out we were both Aries' and we talked about that a ton too.

I also met a guy in a dusty old cowboy hat in the park by Loyola beach who told me he is the official 'patriarch of the park' and gets to decide who he allows to pick up litter there. He pointed to a very clean-cut white woman stabbing at trash with a stick and a needle and told me that he had given her personal clearance to clean up "his" park. She might seem like a fussy white suburban type lady, he conveyed, but she was interested in making the space better for everyone and wasn't doing any Kareny shit, so she was welcome.

Last weekend I was going to a free concert in Ping Tom Park and edgy 19 year old punk kids danced next to 70 year old Chinese retirees and middle-aged yuppie parents and their toddlers and homeless people and 50 something Mexican old head techno fans and it was the loveliest fucking thing in the world. A guy up the street from the park was selling dozens of old back packs and coats and electronics on his front lawn and I dug through them and chatted before getting there.

Living in a city and spending a lot of time outside, I meet people like that a lot, and my life is immeasurably enriched by it. It makes me sick and sad that so many human beings never get to talk to strangers like this, recoil from homeless people or people on drugs, and fear any stranger's intrusion into their life. I think even a lot of left leaning, queer people harbor these reactions and chalk them up to things like "being afraid of men" or "being afraid of straight people" and we even promote that kind of thinking within our communities at times. I find it very damaging. Some of the most wholesome experiences in my life have been random nice/warm things cishet men on the street have done for me.

[dandylovesturtles]

Hello, Wheelchair Annon here again (my sister parked me in the corner). I hope you don’t mind me chiming in again…

One of the biggest things that changed from being able bodied to being in a wheelchair is other people’s attitudes towards me. This is in two main ways:

Talking to whoever is with me instead of talking directly to me, even if it’s about me. People act as if I am mentally incapable and unable to participate in conversation, or even just act like I’m not there.

No respect for my personal space. I’m talking random strangers and people I barely know doing stuff, usually without even talking to me. This has included: someone coming up behind me and rocking my wheelchair back and forth; someone hanging sitting behind me hanging their jacket on the handles of my wheelchair; leaning on my wheelchair while in a lift; and messing with the controls of my electric wheelchair so I move even when I don’t want to.

How does Leo cope with this change in attitude towards him? (Does it actually happen, or are Yokai more egalitarian?). Leo considers himself the face man; how does he cope when other people don’t see him in the same way anymore? How does he cope when other non- human people don’t always see him as a person? (And does this factor into any issues he may have vis-a-vis growing up as a non human in a human world for the first 14 years of his life?)

(Also, I have a bunch more stuff I can think of relating to wheelchair use, being disabled, chronic fatigue and other stuff, but I really don’t want to overwhelm you. Would you like me to keep asking/pointing out stuff? I will not be offended if you say no!! <3)

Anon, PLEASE feel free to keep sending me these! Whatever you feel comfortable sharing! Like I said at the beginning of this, I'm able-bodied myself, so I can research all day but it's not the same as having lived experience, and I'm really grateful for your perspective! ^^

I've heard the horror stories from other wheelchair users about people just thinking they can do whatever they want with wheelchairs (which is insane to me, like, if you wouldn't rock a chair a stranger is sitting in why would you do that with a wheelchair??), it's why I included the whole point about how only the fam (+Hueso who is very responsible) is allowed to grab Leo's wheelchair handles without repercussion. It's still crazy to me that people just feel entitled to move your wheelchair or hang stuff off of it, though.

The thing about people no longer talking directly to you though, oof. I've heard people who are deaf talk about this happening but it makes sense that it would happen to wheelchair users too. I'm sorry that happens to you, anon.

To answer the questions... to start with, I don't think being accepted by humans is ever really a thing rise!Leo is particularly concerned with, and especially after they learned about yokai and the Hidden City he had other ways to fulfill his social needs that don't involve trying to get humans to accept being around mutant turtles. There is that little voice in the back of his head pointing out that he is Other, but in canon at least I don't think he lets it get him down too much.

as for yokai society itself, though, this is an interesting thing to think about! on one hand, yokai have a much greater mix of... appendage situations?? going on than humans do, so I wouldn't be surprised if the Hidden City is generally more accessible, just because shops are already factoring in that some of their customers won't have legs/arms/what have you. on the flip side, though, the chair itself is a pretty obvious visual indicator that even for his species Leo is disabled, and that would probably still lead to people talking to his siblings like he isn't there.

this would definitely be a hit to Leo's confidence, since it ties into the things he already struggles with. and to make things worse, I think it's one of those things that his family probably doesn't even realize is happening at first? especially because the experiences are spread around, so they're all getting fewer instances of it happening to notice than Leo is. but yeah I could see one of them going through a whole conversation without realizing that the person they're talking to hasn't talked to or directly responded to Leo once, and at the end they're like, "oh, they're so nice!" while Leo is sitting there feeling like he just got completely closed out of the conversation

I think Leo would just let it go for awhile at first. why would people want to talk to him, he's the failure brother! he may not even realize it's just a response to the wheelchair, initially. but as Leo gets healthier mentally (and maybe finds some community support, either online or in person), he'd start sticking up for himself more often.

I can imagine one day someone asks Raph, "Oh, how is Leo?" and Leo is like, "Leo's great, actually, his ears work just fine!" and that's the moment Raph realizes that this has been happening the whole time and for awhile Leo just let it happen and oops they just let it happen too

they are learning, though! nowhere to go but up!

[everythingwasnormalhere]

could you give me blind Craig headcannons for my story? Thanks ^_^

all these are assuming he loses his sight later on, aka hes not blind since birth, so tell me if im wrong lol (also partial blindness hcs bc its very underrepresented though a lot more common smh,, but like, can make him totally blind if you want lol you do you)

mandatory disclaimer im not blind nor i know that many blind people so this might be Very wrong lmao (feel free to correct me yall 😭) (also if u arent blind either i recommend u to ask blind ppl and/or blogs like @/cripplecharacters for advice with this)

big on the ignore it till you make it<3

nooo hes not going blind wdym his vision is awesomeee (this guy cant see shit)

probably hid it for as long as he could bc internalized ableism + pettiness = bad decisions

also this overwhelmed the shit out of him, meltdowns often bc autism aint good yall

didn't get the diagnosis till he was almost not leaving home bc he could barely manage there without seeing, outside was a big fat nope

when he did get it, he already could assume what was happening, but the diagnosis made it real- cue the panic attacks<3

he clyde and tweek decorated his white cane with space stickers to make it fun :) (will always be a sucker for characters decorating their mobility aids im not sorry)

spends his nights looking at the stars, trying to memorize them before he cannot see them at all. the thought of losing them forever terrifies him

insecurity oh my god. his friends have to reassure him they won't leave him after he can't see every other day. little guy acts all confident and craps but oh boy he's actually Not 😭

jimmy teaching him cpunk he's just that awesome<3

"how does he deal with ableism?" well he curls up and sobs actually :) /hj

ppl grabbing his cane would send him in a panic at the beginning

THEY'RE NOT HELPING FFS

went from frozen and almost in tears to cursing them out though; he's vocal about his feelings like that<3

when he's with friends they're typically the ones who proceed to curse them out first btw lmao (possibly trip them too. oopsie 🥰)

holding hands with tweek. yes using the cane is easy but tweek is easier. craig would genuinely trust him with his life yall

he's very used to holding tweek's hand since before too, so not much of a change really :)

learnt how ppl's walking sounds very early on

cartman cannot be normal abt disabilities ever so he probably "pranked" craig a lot early on

he got so much shit from everyone for that though so not anymore

craig and butters bond over it :3 with butters' eye injury and all

(their experiences are not the same but taking into account butters is who has most experience with vision problems in all south park, its the best craig can get atp)

got pissed at like 20 screenreaders until he found one that worked for him

will listen to space documentaries, close his eyes, and imagine everything they say. makes him very happy :)

gets a guide dog later on im not sorry service puppies are the best ever

not gonna learn braille his ass is too lazy lmfao

...these arent a shitton of hcs wdymmmmmmm (sorry for text wall it will happen again)

[aylacavebear]

Retribution Chapter 10

Summary: You had DID for most of your life, over forty years, since you were two. It wasn't until after you were forty-three that you were finally able to heal it and become a singular. You're a hunter and have been with Dean for a very long time. Once you become singular, you have to face the horrors that your mental illness subjected on those you cared about, loved. Can you get past seeing yourself as worse than any monster you've ever hunted down?

Pairing is Dean Winchester x Reader/You

Warnings: Talk of DID - Dissociation Identity Disorder (AKA MPD), Mental Health Issues, Angst, Healing (yes, this is a warning).

Please, if you suffer from any mental illness, seek help. There are people out there who can help you get through it, no matter how alone you feel now or how hard it may seem.

A/N: This is going to be very dark, darker than anything I've written thus far. It will include many triggers - abuse both sexual and physical - in memories and what happens to the reader. I'm hoping it will have a happy ending but right now, I am not sure where this will go. This is your main warning before you begin reading. A/N: Dreams and Memories are indented in italics. Thoughts are in italics only.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 10 - On Your Own

You woke early the next morning. The brothers were still sleeping as you made some coffee, got a cup, and began packing your things. They were the things that meant something to you and things you needed. Then, you loaded them up in your purple Mustang, which had been parked in the garage for longer than you could remember. You didn’t want to take your truck this time; you hadn’t planned on hunting.

Quietly, you crept into Dean’s room. Taking a moment to let your eyes adjust, you noticed how he was lying in his bed. He’d drank himself to sleep and had probably fallen asleep less than an hour before you’d woken up. 

At least I won’t wake him.

With a heavy heart, you gathered almost all your things out of his room, including the few weapons off his wall and the poster that was hanging. You grabbed half your clothes from his dresser and closet, including the old shirt he said would be important. You grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, wrote him a very short note, and left it on his desk.

I’m sorry, for everything. Y/N

You climbed behind the wheel, trying to keep yourself grounded. Then you sighed and popped the hood, looking for the lowjack you knew was probably there. It took you about ten minutes, but you found it and removed it, then disabled the GPS on your phone before driving away from the bunker. 

It was something you hadn’t completely considered, him looking at your healing like all the personalities having died, even if parts of them were living in you now. You’d grieved for their loss, so it made sense that he’d want or need to. You just had hoped too hard that he’d want you around, want to get to know you.

I’m being selfish, only thinking about what I want.

The sun hadn’t even risen yet, so you stuck to the backroads because there would be almost no traffic. 

My personalities have been all over. Where would I like to go? Is there a place I want to see? I’m gonna miss them, even if they probably won’t miss me, they’ll miss them.

You had no destination in mind, and your thoughts wandered through your mind. You did decide that you weren’t going to use alcohol to cope with things this time around. This time, you weren’t running; you were giving them both space, space they needed.

Somehow, everything will be okay, even if I never see them again.

Their POV

He woke somewhere around eleven, rubbing his head due to the mild hangover from the alcohol he’d ingested just to get to sleep that night. He’d tried pushing himself to get to know you, but the more you spoke, the more his heart hurt. She was gone, they all were.

Dean pushed his thoughts away and made his way to the kitchen, not even noticing that your door wasn’t closed all the way. Sam was already up and in the library. So, Dean grabbed a cup of coffee and joined his brother at the library table.

“She still sleeping?” Sam asked, glancing over at him

“I don’t know. I didn’t look in her room,” he answered gruffly, still not fully awake.

Sam gave him a confused look, “Her room is empty, and the bed’s made. I figured she slept with you.”

Dean’s head shot up, eyes now wide open, and any grogginess he had was now gone. He left his coffee on the table, went to your room, and pushed the door open. He took in the little details, barely noticing that Sam had followed him. So many of your things were gone. Then, he went into his room, Sam still behind him.

His eyes scanned his room, seeing what was missing before they fell on the desk to something out of place: the note. Dean went over and picked it up, reading the few words you’d left.

I didn’t mean today…

“Dean?” Sam asked, stepping closer to his brother.

“She’s gone, Sam,” he replied quietly, fighting with anger and hurt.

“What do you mean, she’s gone?” Sam asked, more confused than he was before. Dean just handed him the note. “What’d you say to her?” Sam asked after reading it, now looking at his brother.

“I told her I needed to grieve,” Dean answered, not thinking about the entire conversation that had taken place.

Sam rubbed his face with his hand, his mind now working over time. He may have been angry at you, hated what your personalities had done, and even wanted to shoot you at one point or another, but now, he was worried about you, again.

The brothers checked the garage and noticed your truck was still there, but the Mustang was gone. Sam even sighed when he found the lowjack he’d installed in it after he’d found you at the motel, and you’d run again. Then, they returned to the library, and Sam got on his laptop, attempting to track your phone.

“She’s too damn smart,” Sam sighed, leaning back in his chair, “She turned off her GPS.”

They then began texting Charlie, Eileen, and Jodie, asking if any of them had seen you. They hadn’t, but they said if they heard anything, they’d let them know. They texted a few other people, hunters, without any luck. Dean even texted Garth, but he hadn’t heard from you either.

Dean sighed, “Cas, I know you’re listening. Please get your feathered butt down here.”

“What, Dean?” Cas asked, appearing between the two, slightly annoyed, making the brothers jump a bit.

“She’s gone Cas. Can you find her again?” Sam asked, looking up at the angel.

“I know. I’ve already spoken with her and know where she is and where she’s headed,” Cas answered.

“Care to share?” Dean asked, keeping his tone as even as he could.

“Dean, she left to give you the space you needed so you could grieve. You could have given her a different answer when she asked you if it would be easier if she wasn’t here, but you didn’t. I will not be sharing her location with either of you,” Cas answered plainly.

Dean looked down at the table, “I didn’t mean for her to leave right away,” he mumbled.

“Then maybe that’s what you should have said,” Cas said flatly.

Sam was speechless. At least now it made sense as to why you’d left, “Can you at least clue us in on what her plans are? I mean, is she going back to Crowley?” 

Cas’s expression showed just how annoyed he was with the two of them. He rolled his eyes, groaning in frustration. “I get that the two of you have your own issues to work through, but don’t project them on her. It’s been almost three months since she integrated, and she’s healed a lot. She has no desire to go down a destructive path. She just wants to be a better person than her past.”

“That’s still fairly vague, Cas,” Dean grumbled, not liking this situation at all.

“Deal with what you need to deal with. Anyone she interacts with won’t give her away either,” Cas told him bluntly.

Dean was pissed, but it was due to far more than having no lead on you. Sam went through the range of emotions as well, but the two stayed silent for a while.

“Did she keep her phone?” Sam finally asked.

Cas had to take a deep breath. He typically didn’t get angry, but right now, he was. It was like neither of them had heard anything you’d said. He was furious because the two were kind toward you when you were holed up in your room, refusing to take care of yourself. He was angry because after you got better, it was like the brothers just wanted to hate you. Cas’s hands clenched into fists for a moment before he released them.

“Figure it out, Sam. She said enough before she left,” Cas snapped and then disappeared.

The brothers were dumbfounded for a moment before Sam spoke as he glanced over at his brother, “I’m gonna guess she kept her phone. That way, she could contact people.”

“This sucks,” Dean mumbled, now wanting something far stronger than coffee.

“Wanna talk about it?” Sam asked but figured his brother would keep quiet. He didn’t share things like what he was going through often.

“I miss her, even some of the others. She may have kept things from them, but…” he trailed off for a moment, keeping his emotions in check. “...She’s not them. She’s different. I don’t know what hurts worse. The fact that they’re gone or the fact that she’s like them.” Dean was quiet as he spoke, keeping most of his emotions from showing, but Sam knew his brother well enough to see it all.

“So, take some time, figure it out. If you need a case for a distraction, I can look for one,” Sam offered. He knew he’d have to deal with his own issues surrounding you. 

The thing that was getting to both of them was that so far, when people interacted with you, they saw that you were different, that the DID was gone. All the brothers had ever wanted was for you to be able to heal, to get better. Now that you were, other things were hitting them that they hadn’t considered would.

Your POV

You’d already spoken to Cas and messaged several people when you stopped for gas three hours into your travels. They all understood what was going on and agreed to keep the information from the Winchesters. 

It wasn’t that you wanted to keep things from the brothers, you just didn’t want them worrying about you. They needed to focus on their issues and deal with those. Cas showed back up just after noon as you were driving down another backroad.

“Have you decided where you’ll go?” Cas asked, now sitting in your passenger seat.

You didn’t jump this time, “I know of a place my personalities kept a secret from everyone. It was a place they would go when things were too stressful. I’m going to stay there for a little while.”

“Would you prefer I didn’t know where you were going?” Cas asked, looking over at you.

“I don’t mind you knowing. I know you won’t tell anyone, Cas. And, I appreciate that. I already let everyone know that I was going somewhere safe, and I’d message if I really needed something,” you answered, keeping your focus on the road.

“Will you hunt?” he asked you curiously.

“I don’t know yet. I might. I have what I need if I choose to,” you replied, then sighed, “If I need you or if something happens to the boys, please come. That’s really all I ask. You can even let them know that I’m alive and fine.”

“I can respect your wishes. I just wish you didn’t have to go through this alone,” Cas told you.

“It’s okay, Cas. Perhaps I need to be alone. I’ve never been alone my entire life. When I ran for that month really doesn’t count since I wasn’t in a good place—not like I am now. I’ll be okay this time,” you replied softly, giving him a small smile.

Nothing more needed to be said, so Cas disappeared, leaving you alone. You smiled a little as you thought about the cabin you were headed to. You’d kept all the skills you needed to live out there comfortably. 

The drive took another five hours before you turned down a dirt road in a forest in Montana. It was already getting cool, now that it was near the end of October and Halloween was approaching. A sense of peace and tranquility washed over you as you made your way down the road, memories playing through your mind of the times your personalities had come here.

This is where I need to be right now.

The cabin was quaint, nestled a mile from the backroad within the forest's trees. You parked near the front, making it easier to unload your car. This would be your home for now, and you were looking forward to it.

You pushed the door open and smiled, as it was just how they’d left it. The place had been well kept, but here, were the little’s more personal items, the toys she had loved. This was more of a haven for your personalities than anything else, where they could be themselves without the meaner ones taking over and causing problems.

It only took an hour for you to get settled in. You put the empty boxes in the spare room that held the winter supplies, like extra blankets, and then started the generator, getting it up and running and checking the supplies you had in the shed. 

Looks like I need to make a supply run.

The stash of cash was still in its hidden location in the wall near the bed, and there was plenty to get you through at least six months with ease. You didn’t want to use all of it, so you made plans to get different fake credit cards with names neither of the brothers would even consider you using.

After filling the stack of firewood near the fireplace, you made a supply run, returned to your cabin, and brought it all in. It was dark at this point, so you got a fire going as the chill had begun to set in.

You still hadn’t received a text from either of the brothers, so you turned off your phone and relaxed for what felt like the first time in a while. Being completely alone with your thoughts was odd. It was similar to when you’d been alone at the bunker for those three weeks while the brothers had gone out on that case.

This will be good for me, good for them. And I’m not going to hope for anything from them. I just want them to be happy, to find some sense of peace. Even if that means I never see them again.

You truly felt that way, even if it saddened you simultaneously. You kept reminding yourself that you weren’t them. It was time to start over. You’d picked up the pieces of the life you’d woken up to after integration. Now, it was time to live your life the way that brought you joy, peace, serenity, laughter, and happiness. You knew that somehow it was possible to have that without the man you’d fallen in love with.

Somehow, I’ll find what I need out here. I’ll find myself.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 11 - A Peace You Didn't Know Was Possible

Retribution Master List

Tag List: @jc-winchester @nancymcl @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx

[sirfrogsworth]

I'm still not feeling great, but I really needed groceries. So I forced myself to go last night, which was a really bad idea considering I hadn't recovered from post-exertional malaise as it was.

But I didn't have much food due to stalling for so long. I know I could do delivery or have someone pick stuff up, but I really need to walk around and pick things out. If I am not in the mood for something I won't eat it. I can be picky that way. And then it spoils and I have to throw it out. It's just better if I go to the store and find things that my brain has a craving for.

It just seems like whenever I have the least energy and I try to do a short, simple trip out of the house, I have all of these mini-adventures that make it not as short and simple.

In this case, I didn't even make it out of my driveway before the adventures began. I got in the car there was a warning my tire pressure was low. And usually it isn't that bad and I can just fill up the tires when I have more energy. But one tire was extremely low, so I didn't want to chance it.

I wish I knew why my tires lose air so fast. Seems like I fill them every week or two. I read it could be bad valve stems. But like, on all the tires? I'll save that mystery for another day.

Unfortunately putting air in my tires is just about the hardest task for me specifically. Even if I sit on a stool, I have to bend down in a way that pushes my belly against my lungs. I run out of breath very quickly and so I have to go up and down many times to finish filling the tire. By the end of filling all 4 tires, I was sweating, exhausted, out of breath, light headed, and nauseous.

I really need to find a better way to fill my tires. I could try sitting on the ground, but standing up from the ground is not always easy for me and I'd have to do it 4 times.

I wonder if there is a place I can tip someone to do it.

I digress.

I make it to Sam's and I am struggling before even walking in the store. And they have gigantic shopping carts that take much more energy to push around. Schnucks has these little baby carts that are great for when you need a few items. I guess Sam's assumes if you are going to a bulk store you are going to buy in bulk.

I get my sushi and my brownie bites and everything else and head towards checkout. I have a bit too much stuff for self checkout to make sense, so I get in line.

On one side of me was a guy who was impulse buying a 65" TV. Which is a really bad idea. You should never buy any electronics without researching it first. (Or ask me. Everyone should always ask me before buying technological items.) He was buying a TV that was made to be thin. And if he needed a super thin TV, and he couldn't afford an OLED, it was an okay choice. But for the same price he could get a thicker TV with much better image quality. There was a part of me that wanted to take him back over to the TV aisle and help him make a better decision. But my anxiety thought of about 30 ways that could have backfired and I was barely standing.

And then there was this cart in front of me...

Seriously?

Is there a midwestern hurricane headed this way or something?

I don't even understand how they did this.

This isn't Tetris. This is... overstuffing a turkey.

I'm a little worried about those eggs too.

Thankfully a new lane opened up and I didn't have to wait 30 minutes for them to figure out how to deal with that.

I did try to use my amazing Tetris skills to arrange my items so the bar code was visible for each one. (I probably could have done self checkout, I guess.) Last time the lady thanked me for making it so easy for her. So I was waiting for this lady to pull out her laser shootie price gun and start zapping my stuff.

But she unloaded everything in my cart onto the conveyor.

My shopping cart Tetris skills went unnoticed and she had to do 3 times the work.

Then I get out to the parking lot and a bunch of carts are all blocking the disabled parking space for people with rear-loading wheelchairs.

I tried to move some of them as I went by. I just didn't have the energy to put them all in the receptacle. But even if they are in the yellow zone, that is where they need to unload the wheelchair. I'm just so tired of people being inconsiderate like this.

And I also see a lot of disabled people without wheelchairs using this space. I suppose if it is the only one available, but this is such a great accommodation for wheelchair users. It is much safer to unload away from traffic. I would rather park in the back of the lot than take this option from someone.

Oh, and Schnucks has one of the disabled spots reserved for police and that makes me so mad too. They can double park if there is an emergency. I never see a cop car in that space and so many people could be using that.

Sorry, after pushing my dad around for a year I have become very sensitive to this.

I really wanted to drive straight home, but I still needed some soup and black cherry soda from Schnucks. I probably should have gone back a different day, but sometimes a different day isn't for weeks. So I just got it all done at once. Plus I really wanted to try that Vess black cherry.

Sorry, RefresCoVesScnhucks™ Black Cherry Soda.

I've been pretty sore all day. And I'm still not prepared for the second house auction. And people are coming to pick stuff up from the first auction on Friday. The house is a mess again. Half the groceries aren't put away.

I'm going to need to pull my lantern battery out of the pocket dimension to charge myself back up.

[sourtoasterstrudel]

I know this is a lot of words so just skip through the fun colours until you find what you need

I go by Nine my pronouns are He/they/it. I am a disabled artist who mostly draws OCs and fanart of South Park

I use procreate on my ipad and clip studio paint pro on a Huion 16 KAMVAS tablet, I also use i krita for most animations i make.

Also you can check out my instagram! (I’m trying to post on there more)

https://instagram.com/sour_toaster_strudel?igshid=OGQ5ZDc2ODk2ZA==

compilation of info about me:

- I am a minor (so just— don’t be weird)

- my special interests and current hyperfixations are TV shows/movies as a whole (with a special love for horror), batman, zombies (i dont care that it’s technically horror i adore zombies) and mythology

- my favourite colour is green, specifically swampy greens

- I’m a baby punk (of about two months at the time of posting this)

- I will say queer, fag and tranny (as a gay and trans person) so if you’re not good with that, this is your warning

- as cool as i think furries are, I personally do not identify as one (despite my persona being a spider creature)

- i have POTS, because of that i mostly use walking sticks/canes (Glados and p-body). I also have one with a crow head named Wesley

- i’m trans, aro/ace, nonbinary and gay

- I’ll take little requests but eventually i would love to have commissions open

(I’ll likely add more to this later)

My tags:

Soursart (all of my art)

Soursvoice (most of the things I’ve said but not all of them because that’s too much work. Everything recent)

Headcanons (self explanatory)

Sourisdisabled (all of my posts on disabilities, mostly focused on my own)

Pronouns update (if you want to see how frequently I realize I’m not comfortable with my pronouns)

Rules:

i want this blog to be a safe space for everyone so if you have anything against 2SLGBTQIA, BIPOC or disabled people existing you will be blocked <3 (this is also a safe space for furries and therians love you guys. Be nice to them)

ALSO proshippers just— fuck off. again, if not you will be blocked

+ anyone who thinks being a pedophile or zoophile is the same as being queer

I’ll answer any questions y’all have as long as it’s not too personal

(Especially HC questions or questions about my characters i have so many things to say)

And lastly, NO REPOSTING MY WORK.

[redgoldblue]

for the drabble spotify wrapped game, if you want: i rolled my rainbow d10 twice and we have a 75 🌈

❤️ 🌈

75: America's Sweetheart by Elle King

uh. I don't know where this came from. i apologise, my partner-in-fluff 🫡

Also I am obviously not abiding by the technical 100-word definition of drabble here, but instead the much looser 'short piece of writing'.

spotify wrapped drabbles!

Steve doesn't know when he stopped caring about killing people. It didn't bother him until he started caring again.

It's not anyone unusual, is the thing that gets him. It's a nameless, almost-faceless drug smuggler that he didn't even mean to kill, but he shot with intent to disable and a little too much carelessness in a rush to stop the ship they came in on, and when he finally loops back around there's a pool of blood and a corpse with a busted femoral artery.

He's kneeling down, checking a pulse even though it's clearly absent, removing weapons even though he'll clearly have no use for them, when his fingers brush against a thin edge in the inside pocket of the off-the-rack grey suit jacket the guy's wearing.

When he pulls it out, it's a photo. He has to look down to check that it's the same guy in it, partially because death rictus changes a face, especially when your comparison is smiling and happy, and partially because he just hasn't looked at his face properly. It's the same guy, his arm around a similarly smiling woman shoulder-height to him and so close in features she has to be his sister, with a chubby-cheeked frizzy-haired kid straddling his shoulders and holding onto the woman's hand.

One of the first things the military teaches you, explicitly or not, is to erase personhood. Your own, and your enemy's. Numbers, statistics, body parts and targets and usefulness.

He puts the photo back into the dead man's jacket and moves away. A tech comes at some point, body-bags him, and Duke is there and the rest of his team have it well in hand, so he goes back to where their cars are parked, boosts himself onto the hood of the truck, and waits.

Kono walks past at some point, but they're still in the midst of cleanup and HPD handover, so even though she does slow and ask, "You okay, boss?", when he replies in the affirmative she nods and keeps moving.

He remembers himself before. He remembers when it would never would have occurred to him not to think that every person with a bullet in them is a person with a family. A person with a life, at least before they were a person with a death.

He doesn't bother trying to count. The impulse washes over him, but it would take hours with military records and Five-0 reports to calculate anything even close to accuracy.

Himself before was decades ago, but also not that long ago. It was target practice at the Academy and work behind computers in Military Intelligence and crawling through mud with a similarly young Freddie by his side.

Himself after, apparently, is sitting on his own truck at the edge of his own city watching his family and his family's family and his friends and his friends' friends move efficiently through shipping containers and body bags.

Eventually, Danny finds him. He takes one look at Steve's face; he doesn't say anything, just leans against the hood next to Steve and waits.

Eventually, Steve finds the words. "I don't think the military would like me anymore, Danny."

It's not all that new a state of affairs; he got driven by revenge and tattoos in non-regulation places and too many personal attachments and he remembered how to have fun in quiet spaces and how to love in loud ones. He started caring again.

"Good," Danny says, harsh and definite, and Steve realises with a start that the things that would debase him in the eyes of his country are probably exactly the same reasons Danny - not just Danny, his whole family - would cite for loving him. Except the tattoos, maybe.

He can't bring himself to be upset about it in the face of that.

[bolszaja-miedwedica]

get to know me 🩵

do you make your bed? - nah i just leave it be and then make another mess when i go to sleep

what's your favourite number? - currently 7, 222

what is your job? - i dont have a job im on a disability check

If you could go back to school would you? - yeah a lot of things passed me by and i was a very different person then i wish i could go to school again knowing everything i know now

can you parallel park? - fuxk no

a job you had that would surprise people? - never had one

do you think aliens are real? - hell yeah but they wont come to earth after what happened in Roswell that one time i bet

can you drive a manual car? - nah i cant drive

what's your guilty pleasure? - annoying people as my love language

tattoos? - i want tattoos in the future but i have uhhhh like two or three piercings and i want more too

favourite colour? - baby blue and baby yellow

favourite type of music? - noisy, kpop, mostly stray kids but some of bts rap songs too, my little space playlist, russian indie? ig

do you like puzzles? - i fuckin love puzzles especially in little space i wish i had more

any phobias? - trypophobia, im also scared of men :p

favourite childhood sport? - floorball

do you talk to yourself? - yes, outloud too, i mostly just remember some stuff rapidly and have to talk about it outloud

what movie(s) do you adore? - venom, i literally have nothing to watch tho cus i hate romantic or sexual stuff in movies but i also hate angst and shitty comedy so i can only watch horrors so uhhh ig friday 13th out of nostalgia

coffee or tea? - i like both but lately ive been drinking more coffee

first thing you wanted to be growing up - a veterinarian i dont even know why

tag list! its short but if you want you can do it!

@chervbily @mysticaiwitchery @aspens-treehouse @wizardthesai @lesserbeans

[istra-ish-sucha-geek]

Question:

Do people talking about public transit cities/walkable cities walk regularly?

I was seeing some discourse started by @amtrak-official about walking cities, and then some people talking about 15-minute cities and someone said a FIVE minute access to groceries and work and everything.

I’m disabled; I have chronic pain.

I walk EVERY DAY (for the diabetes.)

After walking EVERY DAY for more than a year; I have a fairly average walking pace.

5 minutes is the end of my driveway and back. It’s like 600 steps.

Even a 15 minute walk (for me, and I’m slow-average) is barely any distance at all.

I can see how 15 minutes could work in an urban setting - especially if you stretch it a bit, since an average mile pace is about 20 minutes (although if the mile is the diameter of a circle from a central point, you’re gonna get a lot more bang for your buck, but you could also end up being 40 minutes from your desired destination if it’s on the wrong side of town).

But it’s all gonna be VERY. CLOSE. TOGETHER.

And 5 minutes is right out. RIGHT out. It’s just not enough area. Even if you’re working from home!

And if everyone is working from home, who is picking up all the garbage, and who is running maintenance on electricity, water, internet and other utilities? Plumbing?! Are manual labor jobs also getting to work 15 minutes walking from home, or do they still commute places? That’s too many people living in too small space.

And where is the PARK? And GARDEN? I can’t live without my garden.

Where is all the infrastructure like SUB stations going? Is that within 5 minutes?

Even in like Jane Austen time, walking to get places was more than 15 minutes.

Maybe I’m taking all this way to literally - I have a tendency to do that - but …

The maths ain’t mathing. Even just thinking of building footprints ALONE - what about religious communities?

And sure you can build UP, but the more people you have in 15 minutes, the more people you NEED in 15 minutes. Like say you got 20 people, maybe one doctor a nurse and an office person can deal with all their daily medical needs, but what that means you actually have 17 peeps + 3 medical professionals. Then you stuff 40 people in, but you really need 3 more medical peeps, so it’s 34+6.

What about religious spaces? What about religious spaces for different religions?

And how are we feeding this many people? Is all the food being commuted in? Or are we saving space for chickens and gardens and things?

(I May be weird for thinking of that, since I know most food in urban places IS commuted in; I just live in the country, we grow some of our own fruit and veg, and if I WANTED, I could buy eggs and milk and even all kinds of meats from farmers within about 5-8 miles.)

Saving space for chickens and gardens is going to cost space for humans and building UP cuz sunlight + fresh air.

My point is:

THERE IS NOT ENOUGH SPACE.

Transit and travel is still NEEDED.

And not everybody can WALK.

Heck some days *I* can’t walk!

Some days it’s not SAFE to walk outside because of FIRE or WEATHER or things.

I just.

Look: I really want BETTER than what we have. WhT we have is garbágê. But it’s not gonna get better unless we sit down and figure out how to DO IT *with* each other.

And I’m just a middle aged, disabled white lady who lives in the country with four cats, a dog, a hobbit, a 20x20 foot garden while their sibling does horse archery on three acres (animals need a lot of room. Do country places and animals just not exist in this walkable utopia?).