#It's not my fault I have dyslexia

[leonisdumbasallhell]

I just realized something pft-

It's canon Chris can't read sheet music- but he's friends with three people (Jill, Ethan and Rebecca at least from memory) who know how to read sheet music AND play instruments!

I bet he just looks at them with utter awe at how they're capable of such skill at music.

Well, I mean, he can play guitar, so it's not like he's completely musically inept... I've been told a lot of guitarists don't learn to read music because they can just us tabs, or they play by feel. There's also lots of vocalists who don't read sheet music either. So there's lots of people who can play instruments/have musical talent and can't read music.... Including me, who plays kalimba by tabs and piano by ear and can't read sheet music ajhkshdkj.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[abigdumbchild]

I don’t understand how Tumblr works. I originally thought this was Grindr because they both have the weird r without the e. I stayed far away from this place for that reason, but I have since been corrected. If anyone wants to give me tips on how to use this I would appreciate it. Cool. Thanks.

[frowerssx2]

[hailbaphocat]

Me and my dyslexic friend played a drawing game-

[hermeticbridgetroll]

At 31 years old I finally learned how to braid things. I have struggled with this my entire life. TAKE THAT ROPE!

[nickbutnodick]

i hate it when people bully people less smart than they are. but i HATE it when people bully people less smart than i am on my behalf.

[genericpuff]

i find it funny that one of rachel’s drawings of herself in the afterword that just went up is just fully persephone. is that something she does a lot?

Alright so I've been making it a general rule for myself to like, not harp on Rachel in any way outside of LO as much because frankly the horse is dead now and there's not much left to say outside of what can be analyzed in hindsight. I think despite everything I have to say about her and her work, she still deserves to get away from this nonsense and I don't wanna spend eternity hovering over her shoulder.

But the afterword was posted within the LO series and is clearly meant for readers of LO in the functioning of being an afterword so let's just call it fair game LOL

I will say, on the whole, it does feel very honest and sentimental and I can respect Rachel for taking the time to write out and illustrate her afterword in a way that was personal to both her and her fans. I can understand why she went at it from the angle that she did and I'm not gonna fault her for that.

But there's also something that feels deeply... disingenuous about her approach right from the starting gun. I will say, before I continue, that I'm well aware I am biased towards Rachel as a creator, and I fully acknowledge that I could very well be reading too much into things. This is just my opinion, take it with mountains of salt.

I can get looking back on your own childhood, your past self, whatever, and going "see! it all got better!" because sure! For a lot of creators like Rachel, it must be wild to look back on where they came from and there's a lot of sentimentality on expressing that through an afterword like this where she reflects on where she came from. Though she STILL didn't acknowledge her other comics outside of LO, I can understand if she wants to leave those skeletons in the closet.

But I feel like her drawing herself as a child who's being given an Eisner by her adult self and all that just feels like some gross attempt to disarm any criticism of her because "don't make fun of me, I'm just a sad lonely baby girl!"

She's not a child. Child Rachel didn't grossly misappropriate Greek myth into their own self-indulged vanity project. Child Rachel didn't claim herself a folklorist of a culture's works only to bastardize them completely. Child Rachel didn't create a hostile environment within her fanbase by bullying anyone who she perceived as a threat, sneaking into critical spaces to try and cause trouble, and writing her own clapbacks into her comic. Child Rachel didn't claim to be challenging misogyny and purity culture only to reinforce misogyny and purity culture through her own self-insert baby-virgin-gets-rescued-by-rich-tycoon power fantasy that regularly glorified abuse towards women and the lower class.

30-almost-40-year-old Rachel did though.

At best it comes across as really cringe sentimentality from a Greek-weeb (heh, greeboo) and goes to show how much Rachel inserted herself into Greek myth without ever absorbing its messages or cultural contexts, it was all about her and her feelings as a sad New Zealand girl with dyslexia who thought Persephone's story was about another sad girl being rescued from her "horrible childhood".

At worst it's an active attempt to play on people's heartstrings by drawing herself as a child who people will naturally not want to criticize. I don't want to assume she's doing it intentionally, I really don't want to leave her afterword on a bad foot, as I can definitely understand as both a creator and a person who struggled with learning disabilities in their own childhood how and why she wants to pay homage to her past and where she came from... but let's just say, as someone who's also gotten way too "lost in the sauce" concerning personal self-reflective projects, I think there's a lot to say about how this confirms that Rachel made LO entirely for herself, about herself, without any actual intention to respect the original myths, because she never truly separated them from herself when she was a child. And, in my humble opinion as someone who has Been There with the self-insert OC's and self-reflective angsty plotlines, I can fully attest to the fact that that's not fucking healthy. Even with personal projects, you NEED to learn to get your head out of the sauce, you NEED to learn to objectively separate yourself from the narrative so the story doesn't fall apart under your own hubris and ego, you NEED to learn to draw a line if you want to have any sort of identity as a human being outside of what you make for people. And that's with just normal original stories, this was a story based on Greek myth which doesn't belong to her.

And this goes for a lot of the things she's said and done in the past, so much of her own "sources" even are tethered to things that she read / watched in her childhood and only vaguely remembers, as if she never mentally left her childhood at all, which just... if the point was to highlight her past and the traumas she went through and how they contributed to her present, an Eisner isn't going to validate those experiences. And drawing attention to her past through the lens of her childhood self absolutely 100% does not absolve her of the negative effect her work has had on the modern Greek myth zeitgeist nor the things she's said and done as a 38 year old woman who should absolutely know better.

The community she entered and took from will forever remain changed by her influence and taking, in many ways not for the better. She has the privilege of walking away and never having to think about it again, with all the awards and accolades that were bought for her, the bravado that she built around being a "folklorist" with zero credentials, and the platform she was given over many other creators struggling to even be heard.

That "place" she claims to have now was built entirely on inserting herself into another culture's works and doing nothing but taking, taking, taking, while offering nothing in return but vanity and lip service. That "place" was paid for and brought to you by Webtoons.

[ajbullet]

Ok let’s get deep for a second. Probably my favorite line from the PJO show so far is Percy telling his mother “There’s something wrong with my brain!”

Why is this my favorite line? Because I’ve said it to myself so many times.

Now I know I’m Percy’s case, he’s talking about his ADHD and I don’t want to take away from that at all because I know people with ADHD and how serious it is. It’s amazing the representation people are getting because of this show.

But when you think about it, this could apply to any mental illnesses or disorders. I don’t have ADHD or dyslexia but this line still resonated with me so much because I do have depression. There’s no one cause, just the affects and over and over I’ve told myself it’s my fault, I’m making a bigger deal than it is, there’s no reason to feel the way I do. There’s something wrong with my brain.

Again, I in no way want to take away from the representation and struggles of ADHD being presented through the show, but I just wanted to share how powerful it has been to see these kids, who are the same age I was when my depression first developed (in fact this book series got me through the worst of it), struggling to make something of their disabilities and fight through the obstacles they pose because it helps me believe I can too. Just as I hope it does with other people who watch and can in some way relate.

Yes, this show is amazing at bringing our favorite characters to life and showing Greek mythology and everything else we give it credit for, but it’s also giving representation that is so often overlooked or inaccurate. So, thank you.

(Sorry, just woke up this morning not feeling the greatest and wanted to put these thoughts out there. Now back to your regularly scheduled program of…well, me posting other stuff)

[bl3pwastaken]

Trafalgar D. Water Law x Reader

Okay so this was meant to be a one-shot but words got away from me so words are all over the place and there’s hella typos especially since my dyslexia ridden ass didn’t go tf to sleep last night

TW and CW: Hanahaki Disease, angst, hurt/and only for now no comfort, unintentionally toxic(on Law's part), slight mentions of blood, toxic relationship dynamic

also cross posted to Ao3

part 2

Dive through Crystal Waters

Growing up she was promised a myriad of things. Familial security, a quiet calm life from taking over the small botanical business, etc. Many, many, and many more still were promised to her, including that love was patient, kind, gentle, and warm, especially when it would come to whoever would say the cursed words of “I love you” back. Well for starters, she did not end up with a quiet or calm life having ventured into the new world, no familial security having left them behind to chase after her simple dream of supporting that man's dream. Her time on the Polar Tang interrupted her many gifts of promises being fulfilled, including that love would be patient, kind, gentle, and warm. Everyday either a run or fight with the marines, gathering supplies for their journey ahead, run-ins with other pirates were just a few things that were the opposite of the promised life.

The stiff thick fabric of the boiler suit leaving her hands exposed to the chilly cold of the submarine, the cold due to a fault in a valve, reminded her of many cold things. Many akin to the object of her affections, Trafalgar Law, Captain of the Heart Pirates, and head of the seafaring vessel she found herself on these past few years. While she busied herself carrying and towing boxes and crates to and from, helping the other crew where she could, she did her best to remind herself of all the wonderful things dealing with the cold she loved. She reminisced about the cold winter seasons that brought snow, the beautiful droplets from rainy days, that first plunge into cold water when going for a swim. She did whatever it was she could do, only to end up right back where she had started. 

She remembered his steely gray eyes, his gaze hard as steel. His icy cold hands whenever he felt it suited him to spare her even a few seconds of his embrace, often freezing her in place for what felt like hours and days after he was long gone from his presence. His chilly presence reminded her of lonely snowy fields, barren and nothing for miles in site. Although in the beginning, she believed to have known him well, she found herself slammed into the ship-sinking iceberg of his personality. Only the tiniest bit ever shown and the rest buried deep refusing to surface above any waters to welcome you in the open air. 

The crates of spare parts, and repair tools jingled and clinked within their confines. Heavy sounds of a set of boots echoed within the halls as they clunked closer to the boiler room where Shachi and Penguin were waiting for the arrival of the crates’ contents while assessing the pipes and valves for the source of their rather common problem of the newfound chilly air. Stepping into the freezing room her sight is welcomed with Shachi crouching weirdly below a pipe on the wall, Penguin leaning just as strangely on a step stool above the very same pipe, both sharing the same comically stern faces of concentration. The loud echo of the door shutting with an accidental slam led to Shachi shooting up the same instant Penguin sent himself tumbling off of the step stool, both crashing into one another after both had banged their heads on the poor unsuspecting metal of the pipe.

“W-well hey dollface.” Poor Penguin quipped from his newfound place on the floor sprawled awkwardly across Shachi’s lap.

“He-ow- hey short stuff.” The whimpering response of the aforementioned redhead was  drenched in annoyance at the fall; was slumped partially against the wall, his hat skewed on top of his shaggy red tresses of messy hair. Promptly shoving his friend to free his legs from the confines of his friends weight, Shachi scrambled to meet their friend and fellow crew member wordlessly taking the top crate from her hands to ease the load. Having recovered not much long after being shoved, Penguin was right behind to take the crate of tools and repair equipment.

“Thanks for grabbing this for us. Really saved our necks here since a certain bear not only lost what we needed but is too busy napping to go look!” Looking over to a far off corner was Bepo peacefully napping the afternoon away completely unbothered from the growled yell of your ginger friend, box now perched on his hip under his arm. Penguin, already busy grabbing tools and a new valve using a hand to yank at the collar of his uniform in a desperate attempt to cover more of his face to shield from the cold.

“‘Course! Mind if I help?” Already reaching for the remaining materials needed for repair, plumes of soft steam fleeing from her lips into the freezing room as she stated her rhetorical question having already decided she’d help where she could. Even when it came to the mundane and stressful, these two never failed to have her laughing, feeling as though she was in stitches not even halfway through the repair job. Deciding it best to wait here in the boiler room to wait and see if things stabilize and maintain proper functions, the three of them plopped on the floor in the far opposite side to their furry crewmate to avoid disturbing him. After it was done she simply sat between the two taller men as they joked and poked fun at one another, while Bepo was still sound asleep and snoring from his spot in the far off corner of the room. Jokes made minutes to turn to an hour, and jokes slowly faded into stories of childhood. 

Right in the middle of a particularly hilarious story Bepo’s snoring ceased and in walked the man who stole the young woman’s heart. Quickly Penguin and Shachi erupted from their respective spots on either side of you to stand and properly greet their Captain and longtime friend. “ We found and repaired the valve no problemo Law.” Penguin already spouting words at the even taller form of Law as he stood in the slightly warmer space, the two already conversing fondly with one another. More like Penguin spouting words and Law standing there while he smiled and exchanged slightly less friendly quips with their mutual friend, the small chubby penguin on his head slightly bobbing about at each of his expressive movements while he spoke. Something possessing him to look over to where his now long term girlfriend and Shachi were, (Y/N) and his friend giving a friendly wave, her’s a bit more enthusiastic, the other clutching a wrench that was used earlier, while (Y/N) sat with a big grin at seeing him.

“Hey Shachi,” coming over to place a hand on the killer whale hat wearing man,” nice work!” The brother duo happy having their day's work done, waved goodbye to their Captain leaving the three of them with a presumably sleeping Bepo. The other two were already rambling, jumping from joking to arguing and back to jokes, while she was left on the floor smiling at their usual antics. There on her spot on the floor, she couldn’t help but notice that her excited hello wasn’t responded to. Completely left out, and hoping that maybe he just didn’t happen to notice her right there next to the very friend he just walked up to not even moments ago.

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Having finished her menial tasks and not having any remaining energy to help the others any more than she already has she retired to her workspace as the ship's botanist. Upon opening the door you're instantly met with a smell and site that always puts her at ease no matter what. The odor of acidic and alkaline soil, rocks, and processing compost welcomed her in with the warmest of embraces of familiarity and feelings of home. No menial tasks or chores, no Bepo or Shachi and penguin exchanging jokes, no pesky marines determined to take the nearest pirate's head available, and most importantly, no Trafalgar Law. After working the heavy metal door closed, she made an instant attempt of removing her uniform, moving about the room towards her work table like second nature as she had done countless days and times before now, dropping the suit on a stool a couple of feet away from her desk. She looked fondly over the random plant clippings and tools, shuffling through notes to remember where she had left off on her work.

 Currently, at the moment she has plans. Struggling to find a proper time balance between her shared duties as crew and her title as botanist, she needed a new way of ensuring they all got the proper water needed whenever she couldn’t be here, and hopefully free up some of her time for other things.Lost in her scanning of different pages and sketches and notes, the sound of the heavy door was lost to her, along with the approaching presence. Having searched, any stacks of paper she found the needle in the haystack, her irrigation blueprints. 

“Fuck yes! Found you ya sneaky shit.” Holding up the page in triumph, her actions were met with a deep chuckle. Familiar hands found her waist and a head placed on her shoulder was all she needed to know instantly it was her partner in literal crime. 

“Hey baby, what do you have there?” Tilting her head enough to give a quick peck on the side of his temple, she dusted off random specks of dirt from the blueprint shifting her hold on it to where he could see.

“Blueprints for the greenhouse. Do you wanna see?” She was practically buzzing with excitement already mentally prepping a checklist of steps and materials needed to bring the plans to fruition. Not really looking at the paper, and more so focused on the feeling of her butt pressed into his front within the hug, all you got met with was a simple hum followed by,” Yeah that’s cool I guess.” She felt a slight sprinkle on her fiery excitement, fighting against the dying flame.

“Hell yeah, it’s cool. This thing once it’s done will do wonders for my workload and free up so much of my time. Which means I get to bother you more often.” a simple roll of the eyes was her only response. Unslotting his arms from the woman’s middle he stood up with a big stretch, a few cracks gracing the otherwise very silent space. A quick tap to her ass, and a wave was the last she saw as she turned back to the blue crinkled parchment.

“Well, see you later.” and with that, she was again alone, the metal of the door clanging shut sitting heavy on your heart for a reason unbeknownst to you. For some unknown reason this single piece of paper that had previously brought you so much excitement, that lit the fire of passion in your belly, was all but the size of a matchstick now. Still there but much smaller prior to your love’s visit. Quietly placing the paper aside to be mixed in with the barrage of other papers, she went on to grab a recent plant clipping of a medicinal plant and silently set to work on propagating. The page lay just as still and quiet as she left it, leaving it to be forgotten. The dirt and grime of her heart sprouting the first painful seeds of a hard to name feeling whispered in the recesses of her being, sitting alone in the room with nothing but herself and her plants.

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The calm of night had settled and blanketed the sky, and there she was tangled in Law’s sheets, and him not present. It wasn’t anything new, in fact, it was something she found herself slowly getting used to finally after the past several months. Unable to sleep and restless, but lacking the willpower and motivation to move, she stayed in the spot she lay, glancing at the alarm clothing mounted on the bedside table. The green neon read 1:00 A.M. This used to resound a painful stab to her chest at one point, but all she was met with was nothing but the cold spot beside her. Following the knowledge of routine he would be back here in the captain’s quarters anywhere from 2:30 to 4:50, Law gone either messing around with his medical equipment or doing whatever the hell he does all the way into these late hours of night. For the first time in these several months, she felt it. That haunting stab to her chest, and all because she remembered how things used to be.

She remembers how once those steely eyes ignited something in her, and how they’d never fail to spark a smile into action. She remembers feeling like anything she wanted to know about him, Law would present her the book of his life as if ready to read off any page from within it. She remembers how his hugs once made her feel so safe and warm while he would hold her head or back, and would whisper his adoration for her. She remembers when she started sleeping in the same room, they’d walk back together, or being only behind by a few minutes to join her in loving cuddles within the covers of the bed. Now she gets his dick pressed into the back of her pants if she’s lucky, or his hugs accompanied by a grope of the tits or squeeze of her bottom at best, and they're only fleeting. 

Here in this bed remembering the sickeningly sweet memories, she laid in the cold room alone. The vines of loneliness spread roots in her heart, a tickle in her throat, and a stinging behind her eyes. Sitting up with an abrupt violent cough she turned away from the door completely missing the three petals of pure white jasmine laid where she coughed into the duvet, and let the sweet embrace of sleep carry her away for the night.

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The sound of the door closing was what pulled (Y/N) back into the world of consciousness. Feeling the faint hints of warmth drenching the sheets next to her within the bed, she scooted closer to what would normally being the toned chest of Law, which normally was followed by and arm draping over her waist to pull her closer while he grumbled something incoherent in his sleepy state. However, she was met only with empty space. The warmth she thought was her lover, just residual heat that was quickly fading in the cool private quarters, Law having already left to start the day. Sitting up and adjusting her sleeping top, attempting to peer around through sleep drunk eyes, she turned to look at the alarm clock beside her once again, taking note the time was now 8:30 in the morning.  Groggily sweeping her feet to the floor, she meandered into the attached bathroom smelling the scent of men’s body wash and shampoo, the steam barely left in the room, only a bit of condensation on the edges of the mirror were what remained. 

Deciding it best to keep it short and sweet she gave a quick scrub of her body before feeling that similar tickle in her throat as last night. The feeling much like leaves brushing against your arm scraped at her chest. Finished, clean and feeling sick to her stomach, she quickly grabbed her towel from the wall hook, and crouched in front of the toilet. The feeling at first creeping, now screaming at her coughs into the porcelain. Vision blurred, body screeching something was wrong, all she did was ignore them, fumbling around for the toilet lever and wiping away the viscous liquid from her chin. The dark fabric of the towel hid the vermillion shade of her blood from her unknowing gaze. She stumbled to the sink, and when she finally got a glimpse of herself, she had to be perfectly honest. She looked awful. She was paler, dark circles creeping beneath her eyes nestled on puffy eye bags, her skin slightly blotchy with discoloration, her hair a frizzled mess and slightly thinner. A telltale she was sick. “Guess I’m dying,” completely unaware of the accuracy of her deprecating jab.

Now dressed and brushing her teeth she felt a repeated soft brush of something on her hand, a sticky feeling on her jaw. Figuring she maybe didn’t clean her face enough, there in the reflection was a red stained Jasmine petal sitting right smack above her jawline. Without a second thought and only finding it a slightly weird inconvenience she snatched the petal off of her and into the trash bin beside the counter. Stepping out as ready as she could manage for herself in prep of the day she left the bathroom. The lone bloody petal lay among random rubbish in the bin, a silently screaming warning at her incoming doom, and a cacophonous silent warning to Law. Both begrudgingly unaware of what was happening right under their noses.

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Breakfast was the same as it has been these past several months. Everyone laughing, arguing, planning courses or discussing the day ahead while you quietly sat at the far opposite end of Law next to Bepo. (Y/N) stopped trying to get even a word in at this point when it came to breakfast, or even lunch and dinner for that matter. She learned a few months ago after she kept trying that everytime she opened her mouth to say something or even in the middle of a statement, Law would simply interrupt and interject whatever he had to say. Occasionally Bepo being the sweety he was would ask if his dear friend was okay or nudge her into continuing what she had to say, and all that was given in response was a small nod and a smile that was meant to be reassuring. 

The rest of the day went as normal, the usual shenanigans happening like clockwork. Crew hurriedly shuffling about, cleaning, fixing random things that need their attention in the Polar Tang, Bepo finishing his work to lay around unconsciously inconveniencing Shachi and Penguin with their tasks, the usual of most usual day happenings. Then there was Law. He either cooped up in the exam room giving a random physical or checking in on his crews health, or he was fucking off somewhere to do whatever he as Captain did nowadays. She attempted to not put too much on herself knowing she’d be on watch duty tonight, doing her best to distract from the winding churning feeling in her chest as she swept slowly, trying and barely succeeding in catching her breath.

“(Y/N), I’m not going to show preferential treatment just because you’re with me, so stop slacking off.” Law’s voice came from somewhere behind her followed by fading footsteps. The feeling in her chest only worsened beyond it’s original state just moments prior to being reprimanded. With a shake of her head she went back to sweeping the deck in prep for meeting up with the Kid Pirates tomorrow. The meeting had something to do with a temporary alliance while they agreed to help one another look for their own things apparently located on some island everyone was prepping to head to in search of their own personal items of interest. The thought of seeing Killer and Heat managed to put a small smile on her face. Both men incredibly sweet despite their rough exteriors, and proving to be genuinely nice friends she feels she’ll always hold dear. Not feeling like there is anything left in her day to day to look forward to anymore, knowing she’d get to see them both eased the subtle darkening of her thoughts. 

Night took forever to reach the sky, and now that it’s night, morning was taking just as long, the only sign of it being close to morning being the slightly brightening shades of blue in the sky, stars slowly fading from their painting in the sky. Another part of day by day was just taking place, that being (Y/N) ripping her own heart to shreds at reminiscing on the good old days with her, Bepo, Shachi and Penguin. All four of them were the only crew for a while. The same menial tasks and chores, but they felt more fun, more wonderful and meaningful. It was back when you felt close with not just Shachi and Penguin and Bepo, but with the love of your life also. Suddenly she was hit with another one of her recent coughing fits, this time having no choice but to notice the rush of Jasmine petals rush from her mouth and onto the floor below her, red specks of color sprinkled randomly on the petals. Shaking slightly from the sheer aggressiveness of the coughs she took a petal into one of her shaky palms bringing it up to her face to look more closely at it.

“Jasmine?” The creeping feeling grew bigger than ever, sensations of vines entangling around her lungs, almost like they had an attempt to comfort her in this moment, only ending up nearly suffocating her in the process.

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Deciding it was about damn time to make an effort in comforting herself, she decided why not get dressed up, pay extra attention to her face by applying skincare and makeup, doing her hair in her favorite style, wearing her favorite outfit, and ditching the boiler suit uniform for the Heart Pirates, in preparation of seeing her two friends that were currently anchored next to the Polar Tang just outside. Having finished and feeling satisfied with her appearance finally feeling put together and not dead looking anymore, it was as though it provided slight relief and proved to be just the distraction needed for the horrible physical sensations that seemed to greet her more than her own lover did nowadays. 

With a skip in her step, the sub’s botanist made her way up deck to hurriedly scramble to the helmet wearing KIller and a giant absolute unit of a human(or what she assumed) Heat. The two immediately lighting up at the sight of you climbing onto Victoria Punk the two huge men jogging over to greet you. Heat already having snatched you off the wooden floor of the deck into a bone crushing hug, the blue haired man completely unaware of the strangled mutters of “I can’t breathe” and “too tight”, only really noticing when Killer gave him a quick jab in the side.

Just as she was set down, and air flooded her poor lunges, while Heat busied himself instantly with apologizing profusely, Killer the the botanist moving to give reassuring pats on his shoulder for comfort through his seemingly endless sputtering. A loud wrathful scream boomed out onto the deck of Victoria Punk, the three pirates turning their attention to the source to find Kid and Law exiting one of the doors seeming to be mid squabble.

“You mean to tell me, you dragged me into a stupid fuckass alliance over a dumb fucking flo-mmMMm” and as quickly as whatever words were leaving Captain Eustass Kid’s mouth, Law deemed a just as quick smother of the hand was the appropriate thing to do. None of the trio really all that worried even if a fight were to break out, knowing they both could handle themselves continued on about their impatient greetings, Killer taking a much gentler approach of ruffling the young woman’s hair instead of the agro death grip hug from Heat.

Using the sleeves of her shirt to cover her mouth, she excused herself briefly as (Y/N) felt the burning of a coughing fit coming on, rushing to a private place to upchuck more jasmine petals. Pulling her hand back to further look at the damage, there was a visible increase in the number of petals, and within her hand sat a full fluffy plume of a jasmine. The flower looked as though it was covered in red morning dew. This flower being one of the few final warnings of her impending death.

[tsukimara]

"𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫"

➸ Pairing: Scaramouche x fem!reader

➸ Genres: A silent voice / Koe no katachi AU, angst, fluff, romance.

➸ Warnings: Manga spoilers, suicide , bullying, depression, anxiety, violence, crack (?), swearing, embarrassing moments (?), let me know if I missed something.

➸ Taglist: Open

➸ Status: 04.11.24 — On going

➸ A/N: This is my first time writing something like this, soooo I apologize for any mistakes I make. 🙏

!! IMPORTANT !!

➸ "A silent voice" / "Koe no katachi" is NOT my story! Original author: Yoshitoki Ōima.

➸ It will be a mix of manga, movie and I will also add something from myself.

➸ Slow Updates.

➸ English is not my first language and I am not a professional writer (I do it for fun).

➸ I have dyslexia so I apologize for any mistakes.

CHARACTERS

Ch. 1 - Weirdo

Ch. 2 - Her Fault !

Ch. 3 - Hates her?

Ch. 4 - Future

Ch. 5 - Another Day

Ch. 6 - ...

(⁠つ⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)⁠つ TAGLIST — @leafyaa

Red = I can't tag you

[rreskk]

Things to consider about Trevor and his character:

Everything is draining me but I got some energy for some “consider” factors :)

-We all know Trevor is maths smart and very intelligent. He is no idiot. He has some serious gut intuition and, despite being so undermined, his intelligence is extremely high through knowledge and street-smarts. However, I’ve noticed low literacy development from his text messages and subtle handwritten notes around his safe houses and liquor store. Although he speaks in metaphors and riddles, I can only imagine he may suffer from slight dyslexia. Whether or not that’s him being lazy (most likely), but it would make sense considering his broken education and temperaments. It’s something to consider and suits his character!

-Also consider the fact that maybe, due to his drug and substance use, his height shortened from over the years. He may be 6’1 now but before he fell into the addiction loop, he could have been possibly taller. Like 6’2, maybe a bit taller? Shit like that happens when you grow older with such addictions.

-Trevor mentioned to Michael before that he’s “in the best shape” of his life. This makes me all giggly because — as a North Yankton slut — this basically implies that he was a bigger boy before Los Santos. Man had some fat on him, and his ID from 2004 (cos of his old picture) says his weight initially was 206. A BIG boy. Need to serve him on a golden platter.

-The biggest question in my mind: who introduced him to helicopters and planes. Trevor joined the military with talent of flying. He had his cargo-plane side-job before meeting Mikey in the Midwest, where they met. This brings to think about how exactly he managed to get hands on a plane in the first place…

-Think about his life-style, and think about how flexible his sexuality would’ve been before the professional criminality happened — or just after it started. His ability without the drugs washing the chances of impregnating. His likeness of sex and intimacy. Expect him to have unknown children roaming the states with his genes and DNA.

-He mentioned doing only “petty” crimes before Michael, meaning that he probably hadn’t of killed a human person. (Unless I’m wrong). Petty crimes, for those who don’t know, includes offences like shoplifting, disorderly conduct, common assaults (usually drunk). Real petty crimes without purpose or intent. This meant that Trevor was weirdly innocent, if we are comparing him to present Trevor. With his anger issues as well. Without Michael, he would’ve had a relatively different life with a CHANCE to reparate himself and become something more.

-Following this, consider that it’s not all Michael’s fault that his criminality and incline in mental health was partially responsible for his discharge of the airforce. We all know how Trevor felt about it, I shouldn’t have to explain how distraught he was about it.

-Also consider Trevor and Michael fucking :)

[phatcatphergus]

I think that my main takeaway from this is that while the miscommunication is one thing, and there was obviously a barrier there that wasn’t sorted out, I don’t appreciate the way the admin went about talking about it. I think that tossing tubbo into the hot seat and talking about his lore on another persons stream (who is not connected to the lore) was unprofessional and they should have reached out with a private message first to get some clarity or ensure Tubbo was done with the lore before assuming he was.

My biggest problem is how the fandom treated tubbo afterwards. They used both his dyslexia and known forgetfulness to make fun of and blame him for a situation he had only half fault in at worst. The fandom gaslight him into doubting his own abilities and did so to a point that is triggering to those suffering with derealization or disassociation (which Tubbo has mentioned he had episodes with in the past or something similar). The absolute worst part of it all is that we all read and interpreted the book the exact same as Tubbo did and instead of taking accountability, people blamed tubbo for being “too dyslexic”, “too forgetful”, or “too dumb” to interpret the book correctly.

It’s genuinely horrific how people think that he’s too dumb for his own lore (because he’s nd perhaps?) and that he’s entirely at fault for a simple miscommunication error. I hope he continues with his lore the way he wants because this is all such bs

[simonsrosebud]

omgg god im genuinely so intrigued with all your WIPs and its so hard to choose one so please expect another ask from me but let’s start with Roommates please im really curious about the next generation fr like it sounds so fun !!!

HEHE THANK YOU!! these two so fun to write no matter what i swear

-

It was Abram’s idea to live together again sophomore year. Bred from late nights and endless laughter and a belief that they’d be attached to the hip forever. Elliot and Abram, Abram and Elliot. Ask for one, get the other.

It came as no surprise that the two boys would be going to the same college. Abram wanted to go to PSU since before he could remember, and Elliot didn’t want to go too far. He had too much trauma, too many abandonment issues, too much anxiety to be more than three hours away from the home he and his sister had made with Andrew and Neil. It wasn’t his fault that he visited PSU with Abram and had fallen in love with it.

That same home was the one they’d met each other in when they were barely fifteen, three and a half years ago. The place Abram first visited when he heard that his godfather had taken in two teens the same age as himself and his older brother. When Elliot had short buzzed hair and bleeding nail beds. Undiagnosed anxiety, ignored dyslexia, and unmedicated ADHD because he’d still refused to start taking the prescription that Andrew had picked up for him.

Abram had grown up without any of that. It was so foreign that he didn’t even consider treating Elliot like glass. He’d brought over his X-box and plugged it in without a second thought.

Four years later, he and Elliot were doing the same thing. Huddled together on the floor of their shared dorm, knees pressing together on Abram’s bed because neither of them really fit comfortably like that. Abram was 6’1 and all pure lean muscle. Thick thighs from years of playing exy and soccer, and biceps that were unfairly strong to match. It almost annoyed Elliot, who only stood at 5’10 and felt scrawny all around standing at his side.

Elliot groaned when he lost once again and finally gave up. Spring break was due to start in a few days, so while they only lived twenty-five minutes apart at home, they would be leaving the cocoon that they’d created over the last eight months.

Abram brought it to his attention without thinking. “Alright, start getting ready. We gotta meet the girls in a half hour.”

Elliot slanted him a look. “As if either of us need that long,” he said, and promptly fell to the side in Abram’s bed. He turned his face into his pillow, pulling Abram’s comforter up to his chin, and burrowed in.

When he peeked an eye open, it was to Abram sauntering over shirtless. Elliot’s eyes wandered down like they normally did, because he really was jealous of Abram’s body. He wanted to poke his abs and see if his finger would sink into his skin or just halt in place.

Abram set his chin by Elliot’s head, back hunched to his level and pout on full accidental display. He scanned Elliot’s face, making him suddenly self conscious. His face felt red and hot. “Comfy?” he asked. “I’ll make you a deal,” he offered. “You start getting ready now, and maybe I’ll let you sleep in my bed later.”

Elliot’s chest squeezed and clenched uncomfortably- excitedly. He clenched Abram’s blanket in his fist and sat up. Playfully, he squinted his eyes. “I don’t believe you… You only let me sleep here when I have nightmares.”

Abram stood to full height with Elliot’s movements. He smiled, wide and charming. All straight white teeth and full lips and a tiny indent that Elliot would argue was a dimple. He gave into the urge to reach forward and poke his finger into the small crater.

“Not true,” he countered. “Sometimes when your brain isn’t shutting off.”

Elliot rolled his eyes. “That doesn’t count,” he said, but it was true. Abram was a saint if he ever knew one. Twin XL beds certainly weren’t fit for two large athletes- even if Abram was only on an intramural soccer team and Elliot had pivoted from high school cross country to morning runs instead.

Abram thought about it for a moment, but his smile didn’t necessarily fade. “Sounds like you might have to have an insomnia episode later, then.” He winked obnoxiously, sending Elliot’s stomach into unease. Did he eat something strange earlier?

He pushed Abram’s covers off of him and slid down from his bed. With his back to his roommate, he gained his wit back and said, “Only I can throw the ADHD card into the ring,” he tsked. “You’re just jealous that my presence is haunting and offputting and yours isn't.”

next

[feelterribleinc]

i rarely use tumblr but decided i will today because the autism is taking over so here are six the musical incorrect quotes, but the quotes were said by me or my friends:3

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Jane, to Anna: Yeah you could be a wrestler... against a hamster, maybe.

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Jane: *flips over Anne's water bottle*

Anne: what the flip!

Jane: Literally!

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Kat: Yeah, Anne! Stop distracting Anne!

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Anne, coughing during class:

Cathy: Anne, quit dying and do your work.

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Anne: I think I have dyslexia but like with talking.

Cathy: No, that's just autism.

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(Cathy teaching Kat how to play Defusal on Roblox)

Cathy: How much time do we have left?

Kat: Not enough.

[EXPLOSION]

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Anne: Purity.

Lina: That's not a verb, Anne.

Anne: Yes it is. It's a noun.

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Kat: Whats you guys's favorite letter?

Anne: 7!

Kat: I said letter not color, stupid.

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Cathy: I like the number P!

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Cathy: Beer tastes awful.

Anne: No it doesn't!

Cathy: Shut up, you watch fox news!

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Anne, whisper-yelling: I just killed somebody!!!

Lina: WHAT!? how???

Anne: It wasn't my fault-

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Anna, joking: Meet me at the flagpole at 3pm!

Kat, also joking: Nooo thats my bedtime!!!

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Anne: When does the school leave?

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(the group playing hangman)

Anne and Cathys sentence: Katherine's lesbian women shed

Kat and Cathys sentence, later: Whole liquid twink breasts

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Jane: Don't eat people, that's not nice.

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Kat: Anne is crazy about 8 ball

Lina: I think Anne is crazy in general.

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Cathy, seeing Anne sitting on the floor: Why is the thing on the floor?

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Anne: Dude, my dad was like "oooooh do you have a crush on him?" because I was talking about some guy on the lacrosse team that I thought was cool.

Cathy: Ah yes, Anne, famous for liking men!

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Kat: Anne, are your eyes dyslexic too?"

[autism-alley]

augh found my old post abt pjo and disability from before the show came out but it was on ye olde blog so i’m literally just gonna copy and paste, 3, 2, 1—

ok now that i’ve got it on the brain, i want to talk about disability in pjo and specifically how calling percy jackson dumb or treating him as such is not only a mischaracterization, but ableism. as a quick note, i’m keeping this to just percy to avoid having this already long post be even longer, but there are other disabled characters in pjo worthy of discussion, though i hit many of the same points in this post. i bring up percy specifically because he is mostly the character i have seen people treat as stupid.

percy is a dyslexic teen with ADHD who comes from a low-income family, raised by a single mother, and deals with an abusive step-father. i cannot stress enough how much of his character is shaped by that experience, but as hard as it is to single out any one part, i am going to focus on his ADHD and dyslexia. this kid has nightmares of being forced to take tests in a straightjacket as teachers ask him if he’s stupid and withhold him from recess with his peers. he is constantly labelled as “troubled” and blamed for things he didn’t do or aren’t his fault. he is told, over and over again, even from trusted adults, that he is “not normal” (othering him). he bounces between schools. he struggles to make friends. he deals with bullying. he has difficulty studying and reading, even when invested. teachers struggle to connect with him and tend to just give up on him. these are real disabled experiences, and rick does a good job at presenting them in the pjo books. sometimes, it feels like everything is a struggle. you are living inside a system that not only is restricting, but actively works against and punishes you.

in contrast, CHB is a great example of how when environments meet the needs of disabled people, it hugely changes how disabled we are in that environment. demigod brains are hard-wired for ancient greek, not english, and they’re born impulsive, with high energy levels that help them survive battle—but aren’t very good for a classroom setting. but by having them read books in ancient greek, regularly do lots of training/physical activities, and have genuine opportunities to express themselves...they function pretty damn well. percy discovers that while he struggles academically, he is brilliant in combat and capable of saving the world numerous times—he is a hero. do you know how important that message is for disabled children? disabled adults, too? that we can be heroes?

it is here, in camp half-blood, that percy finds a place he belongs, that shows him his worth—finally, somewhere is built to not only include him, but to nurture and genuinely prepare him for the world outside its boarders. however, i think people forget that just because percy functions in the world of CHB and the gods, that does not mean he doesn’t face ableism in the mortal world—and that there is an entire group of people who see ourselves reflected in his character.

i could talk on for hours about how much being disabled shapes percy’s identity and how he interacts with the world—like how percy’s humor revolves around coping with his environment and actually displays a very low self esteem after being looked down upon his entire life. this kid doesn’t even have to say anything and he screams i had a neurodivergent childhood. but about 5-6 years ago, when i was more regularly tuned into the fandom, every time i saw someone call percy jackson dumb or an idiot, even jokingly, i raised an eyebrow, and now that the series is getting fresh coverage from disney+, i have wanted to make this post. so much of this kid’s life and personality comes from being treated like he’s dumb or incapable, so it’s troubling to watch part of the fanbase reflect the harmful parts of this character’s upbringing. i truly hope it does not become common again. it’s also one thing coming from a neurodivergent/disabled person with similar experiences (and even then i personally find it a little uncomfortable), it’s another to be said by a neurotypical/able bodied person.

percy jackson’s experiences make for very important representation, and for people to characterize him as just a goofy, unintelligent guy is not only an insult to his character as a kid who is intelligent, but previously lacked the environment to show it, but also ableist. so in the dawn of the new tv series era, i ask that we cut that shit out. rick riordan did not create rep for neurodivergent and disabled kids for them to be called stupid by the fanbase. even jokingly.