#disabled joy innit

[charliespringverse]

18 months of red tape bullshit but i Finally got my disability benefits awarded today which means i can Finally get a decent wheelchair . on the outside i am still and quiet but on the inside i am screaming and jumping up and down

[panged-lin]

Hmm... hmm...

Bit of an odd trend, innit? This strange need to make neurodivergence, mental disabilities or illnesses "marketable" in some fashion or another. Sure it's nice to celebrate the things that can make an autistic person a joy to be around but turning the second someone's actin' a way that's upsetting to either party feels a bit two-faced. Nothin's allowed to make people feel bad ever and if it does, they elect to ignore it at best.

It can feel like nobody's willin' to take the good with the bad, even if it's non-negotiable for the most part. Thing is, those who aren't effected by these things can choose whether or not to bother with the uglier side of these things.

We have no choice in the matter. There's no way to "opt out" of those bad traits. We either accept that and find our ways of dealin' with them, or we find no peace with ourselves.

Willin' to give benefit of the doubt and assume it's primarily contained in fandom and fictional entities - cliche and annoying as it is, it only becomes a problem if it leaks into how actual people are viewed or treated. I'll be glad to never see that as the case anywhere.

I don't know how to phrase this, but I feel like autism acceptance in the public eye is less about actually accepting all autistic people and more about creating this image of autism that's like funky quirky hand flappy disorder. Like everyone wants an autistic friend who can rattle off cool facts about random subjects or an uwu soft bean who they must protect! And so many people put emphasis on hyper empathy and "so many of us are actually really empathetic uwu".

But what all of that completely ignores is there are negative sides to autism and we will sometimes do things that piss you off. No one wants to deal with the meltdowns or the complete and utter lack of empathy or the anger and the depression. What about those of us who self injure when we stim and have angry explosive meltdowns? Who are occassionally too blunt and too withdrawn and rude and offputting?

I'm not saying it's your job to deal with all of that. It is also on us to try to manage and control our own behavior. But it just seems to me like everyone wants nuerodivergent pride until we do something you don't like. Until we start acting "scary".

Autism acceptance means you accept all of us. Those of us who are non verbal, semi verbal, have high support needs or "inconvenient" symptoms. Those of us who aren't palatable.

[docholligay]

Divided by Four: Twenty-Seven

It was sunny and clear, but not overly hot, and Tracer sat, her legs crossed, as she sat atop a box by the hangar, watching the plane pull to a slow stop. She closed her eyes and turned her face up to the brightness of the sun, grinning brightly with the joy of it as she practically felt another freckle spring across her nose. It was going to be a wonderful day, and she rocked forward impatiently as the joy of it overtook her. 

She heard the large, heavy door swing open, and jumped off the metal box, hands in her pockets as she rocked back and forth impatiently. An overly large and intensely human gorilla, wearing a light blue t-shirt with sunglasses tucked int he pocket, stepped cautiously down the steps of it. 

“Win!” Tracer bounced across the tarmac and leapt into his arms without a moment’s thought, “So glad you come, oh, I can’t believe you’ve never been to London, love, greatest city in the world it is, greatest city in the world. And its beautiful today, innit? Not a cloud in the sky, and that’s not every day, love, London must ‘ave showed its best side for you.” 

Winston said nothing, only chuckled and hugged her tight. 

Tracer jumped down from his arms, breathless with excitement. There was so much, a person couldn’t possibly see all of London in one visit, but she had prepared a tour of what she felt were the highlights of it, which would surely be tempting enough that he would come again. It was hard to resist London, warts and all. There was something about it that got into your bones. 

“‘Ave the whole ‘oliday planned! Things I thought you might enjoy, Science Museum, right, maybe a picnic in the park, seeing as it’s so lovely, but of course we ‘ave me family--” 

“Lena,” Winston shook his head, “It’s your birthday. Why would you plan it around...I mean,” he adjusted his glasses, “It must feel...important. After.” 

She shouldn’t have had another birthday, that’s what they all said, should have been lost to time, should have died, should have been an inescapably shattered husk of a human being, should have been all those things, but she wasn���t. Tracer was born under a lucky star, and had made it back, and she had lived, and she smiled happily in the sunshine on a London summer afternoon. 

It had done its work, she supposed. It had ripped her away from the stream of time, and left her with a chronal disability, which wasn’t even an ability people had known you could dis until Tracer had done it. It was true that it had been incredibly painful, that the stress of her loss had very likely killed her father, and that she’d been left with PTSD and stripped of her pilot’s license on top of it all. But she had met Winston, and he was a wonderful friend. She was a field agent, uniquely useful and helpful. London was healing, because of her mission in it.

Nothing was all bad, really. 

Besides, the PTSD had responded beautifully to treatment, so really she should stop counting that against it. 

“And what could be more thrilling and important than introducing someone to London?” She tugged at the edge of her brightly colored shirt, printed with tropical fish, “I know you said you didn’t want any fuss, but I think you always say that, and seeing as it’s me birthday I decided we need to for oysters, though, won’t spoil me birthday tea with the family.”

“Your family will want to see you without me--”

“Oh no, it’s very important you come to that!” Tracer was bouncing about, nearly vibrating as she continued, “Family’s only met you an ‘andful of times,right, and mostly about the bug jar, love, that’s no fun at all, now is it? They’ll just love you Win, ‘aven’t met all of them--course you know Parvati, and me uncles, well some of them, love, oh you’ve never met me Uncle Clive! Parvati’s dad, right? Just lovely. Met Aunt Lily, but not ‘im, gets ‘er coloring from Clive, Parvati does, though,” she laughed, “suppose you might have figured that, ‘aving looked at Lily, and at Parvati--oh you’ve never met me other cousins! Ollie’s--guess ‘e prefers to be called Oliver now, what’s that for--suppose Ollie Oxton is a bit of a--”

“Lena.” Winston put a hand on her shoulder, smiling, “It’s okay, I’ll go.” 

“Terribly excited to ‘ave you. It’ll be a bit different from last year, course…” 

Very suddenly, in the way her mind sometimes worked, Tracer felt a great well of sadness rush within her. In a way she hardly had for the rest of the day, excited as she was for Winston to come, she felt the absence of her father. He’d always made breakfast for her, on her birthday, but she’d lit out of the house so quickly that it had slipped her mind. She still couldn’t bear to move into the master bedroom, and so nothing had seemed too different, as long as she never stopped moving. 

Tears sprung to her eyes. It was always an annoyance to her, the immediacy and depth with which she felt things. She supposed it had its lovely parts--joy lit her from within quick as a firework, excitement showed in every molecule of her body, and those who loved her most found it very charming--but for an instant, it was as if she’d lost her father all over again, knowing there would be no sloppily-wrapped, but deeply considered present, no kiss on the head and a smile. 

She cleared her throat, and wiped away a tear. “Sorry.” she gave a weak laugh, “Forgot I was an orphan for a moment, turned me into a bit of a big girl’s blouse.” 

“I--I’m sorry, Lena.” 

She took a deep breath and huffed it out, closing her eyes and tipping her head to the sunshine again. “Well. ‘appens to all of us--most of us, at least, don’t it? Way of the world. ‘E would ‘ave ‘ated me ruining me birthday over it, besides.” 

Winston took the moment. “He sounds like a, a good father.” 

“Oh, absolutely!” Tracer’s eyes sparkled brightly again, the sunshine peeking about the cloud, “You’d ‘ave liked him, Win, everyone did--well--I suppose that can’t possibly be entirely true, but most of them, at the very least. ‘E’s the one taught me to fly, and I told ‘im, I did, that one day I was to be the best pilot in the world, and it turned out to be true, didn’t it, at least for a time---suppose Gunnar’s the best pilot in the world, now? Being only as I don’t ‘ave me license, or I’d win it back from him.” She stopped herself and nodded, trying to slow the stream of thought. “Dad was so proud.” 

She paused a moment. God, but the sun was beautiful that day, but not too hot. Maybe it was only coincidence, but it could be possible, somehow, that the beauty of the day was a last gift her father gave her. If it was possible, he certainly would have tried.

“It’s true, don’t you think, that so long as people remember you, there’s still a part of you that’s not really gone?” She was asking Winston, but also herself, but also the air. 

Winston nodded. “I think that’s nice.” 

Tracer returned the nod, grinning now. Death could take a smile from her, but only for a moment. “I’ll show you the East End. I think all Oxtons just become a part of it, when we go. I won’t go to ‘eaven or ‘ell, assuming either place exists.” She led him by the hand. “I’ll just stay ‘ere among the pigeons! I like that idea, I think. Nothing too fancy for me, thanks, give me the smell of a fish shop over a choir of angels. I wouldn’t ‘ardly fit in, really.” 

She giggled and jumped along, Winston hardly knowing what was happening but delighted by it all the same. 

“Let me show you where you’ll always find me.” 

[incursionofthedamnedrpg]

Leo Sheppard Accepted! You know the drill, Ro!

Name: Ro

Age: 22 not for long

Timezone: PST

State an account where we can message you: here

How active you’re going to be: same

How did you find out about this roleplay? innit

Why do you want to play this character? I just want a happy little bean that tries to figure out himself and his way in the world

Anything else you would like to tell us? The connections I kind of improvised or did it to people referenced that will come later on.

Preferred Ships: Chemistry

Sample para: RFP

Name: Leonardo “Leo" Sheppard

Birthday: October 4th (21)

Species: Siphoner

Lookalike: Dylan O’Brien

Availability: Taken

Personality

Because of Leo’s sheltered life, he’s actually pretty timid, stumbling over his words when it comes to most situations, it’s only when he’s absolutely sure about something (i.e a certain subject, work) that he seems a bit more confident than how he usually is. Even though he’s struggled and many things have fallen through in his life, he keeps a positive outlook on things. He wants to bring a smile to people’s faces or make them laugh, even if that means he’s the butt of the joke. He laughs a lot of things off, his way of coping with anything that gets hurled at him. He can either be very quiet or he doesn’t know when to shut up like word vomit. Everything he does is with good intentions, his selfless tendencies cause him to help anyone that seems in need, even if he shouldn’t be helping that certain person. He keeps a lot in which allows people to walk all over him, taking advantage of it. He’s smart enough to know better but to Leo, it’s not a big deal. As long as people are happy, then he can get through the day.

Past

Jaime and Lara, two witches apart of the Gemini coven. As in love as two people could be, they were happily together for years. They were strong individually, which only made them stronger together. Determined as much as they were supportive. Unfortunately everything that had managed to grow between one another wouldn’t help them when Lara realized the truth of her pregnancy. They had endless memories with each other, her being pregnant should’ve been one of the happiest of them all and it was, for a while. The first few months had gone smoothly and everything felt right but when she got further into her second trimester those feelings changed. Lara could sense something was wrong, or at least off. Doctors had nothing to tell other than the baby being perfectly healthy. It wasn’t until a surge of pain radiated from her belly and she felt herself get weaker. It lasted only for a couple seconds, if even that, but she was only hit with a mountain of panic because in that moment it became obvious what the problem was, her baby boy wouldn’t be born a witch, but a siphoner instead.

To Lara, she didn’t see it for the abomination it was. She had, before, when the history of her coven with siphoners only had nothing good come from it. Except now, that the same thing they were sure to get rid of pertained to her innocent, unborn son, she couldn’t imagine anyone hurting him or taking him away from her. She wouldn’t be able to bear it. She also felt she couldn’t tell Jaime because as deep as their love ran, she wasn’t sure what he would do with that information. If he’d be her husband or be a man of the coven instead. So she did the only thing she thought she could, she ran. She packed a few things up and disappeared. In her eyes it didn’t matter what she had to go through, as long as her baby boy lived. The pains came more often towards the end of the pregnancy, though not enough to disable her for very long but then finally the day came that she went into labor. It was also the moment that the biggest surge of siphoning happened. That was when he was born, he laid on his mothers chest for only a moment. The tears of relief and joy streaked her cheeks. She immediately put a teddybear by his side, mumbling things under her breath before she kissed his forehead and then, she flatlined. She had lost too much blood and the siphoning her body had struggled through only made it worse. Leo cried his little heart out for something he didn’t even realize he was losing.

Amelia, one of the nurses in the hospital, took care of him during the period immediately afterwards. Maybe it was the universes way of giving him a chance, in a twisted turn of events that almost made him believe in fate. She fell in love with him and she couldn’t imagine him having to struggle through the system. Infants were always more likely to be adopted but, if it failed him who knows where he would land. So yet again, someone decided to do the only thing they could think of doing for him but at least this time no one got hurt in the process. It took time, having to jump through hoops, as anyone would to adopt a baby but eventually Leonardo finally went home to the Sheppards and they became his family.

Now, it was definitely nothing compared to being hunted by a coven for what he was but like any normal family, it was never a walk in the park. His parents were strict, very strict and their religious beliefs surely didn’t help in almost any situation. The one he could always count on was Ryan, his older sister. Of course they didn’t share the same blood but that was never a factor either of them thought about. She was his sister as much as he was her brother. He’d always be there for her through the days when their parents were insufferable or the times when the two of them goofed around and became insufferable for their parents. Some siblings, especially with the years between them, would be in their own worlds but Leo loved having his sister around, he loved doing things together. It also had to do with the fact that she was the only one that treated him normally, treated what he was normally. She helped him if anything, while his parents tried to make him bury it.

Leo was eight years old when his parents dragged Ryan and him to a museum to their joy while Leo just got fidgety out of boredom and wanting to be anywhere else more interesting. The day had gone as smoothly as it could, until they were passing a specific artifact that pulled Leo’s attention. While their parents moved away from it while Ryan, as she always did, stuck by him. Leo stood there entranced by the piece, which he didn’t fully understand at the time why. It pulled him to it, crossing over the barrier that was meant to keep people from touching it faster than Ryan could stop him. His hands landed on it and it was like somebody had jump started him with the surge that passed through his fingertips to his entire body. Even while it was happening, Leo had no idea what was going on, he had no idea that he was siphoning the magic out of the piece. When their mother came around to retrieve them, she scolded him for touching it but Leo went back to sticking to Ryan’s side like nothing had happened. It wasn’t until he went home, throwing a bit of a tantrum for something unimportant that the magic he absorbed came spewing out. His cries and screams could be felt through the vibrations of the house, the rattling of the windows, and the sudden shine of light that filled the home until every possible light bulb burst and things went flying.

Unbeknownst to Leo, his parents had been expecting something like that to happen, hoping and praying it didn’t, but expecting it still. Although they weren’t apart of the founding families in Mystic Falls, they were surely apart of the same circle as them and they also weren’t blind to all the things that happened within the town lines. They wanted Mystic Falls to be a safe place, to get rid of any threats. Their love for Leo ran deep, but not deep enough to accept him for what he was so they rather he suppressed it which was rather easy for him to, considering he needed a source to pull from and he had none. His parents would sit down and talk to him every so often after that, about how he should always control himself and to not speak about it with others. It didn’t just make him feel ashamed, but it made him afraid. Of himself, of others and what they would do to him if they found out. His first outburst had scared him enough while they only reinforced it. So Leo listened, he led his life as normally as he could while being constantly afraid that he was going to do something wrong.

He had successfully avoided pulling any attention to himself, so much so that he basically became the invisible kid. Hardly trying to have friends, barely involving himself in group things like a kid should which would only serve to make him an awkward mess as he grew up. Though it didn’t help that the one person he truly felt like he could be himself around, left. January meant that a new year was coming, everyone always expecting to make the best of the supposed clean slate they got. However for Leo, what happened in January only set up for the rest of the year and really, for years to come after that. Leo was twelve years old when Ryan left without a single word. She didn’t say why, she didn’t say where she was going or if she’d ever be coming back. One day she was just gone. Of course sheer panic ensued for Leo, assuming the worst had happened to her. It was then and only then that Leo wished he knew what to do with what he was born with. That was also when something else struck him.

There was a box in their basement, tucked away and something he had been tempted to look into before but was yelled at when he almost did so he never tried to again. He rushed to find the small box, Leo’s name written on the side of it. It contained a couple of things inside, like a teddy bear and a blanket, things you’d give to a baby. Underneath it all was a notebook though which he pulled out, opening up to read the words. “Hi baby boy, if you’re reading this then it means I’m not around to tell you all of this myself. I hope that you are safe, that you grow up to be a fine young man. I love you so much and I haven’t even laid my eyes on you yet.” Realizing what he was reading he quickly closed the notebook. He went to grab the teddybear but when his hands made contact with it, it was like instinct took over and he began siphoning from it. A final goodbye from his birth mother, transferring the last of her magic into it before she had died. He quickly dropped it, running back upstairs with the notebook in hand. When he was alone he opened it back up and began to read. His birth mother had left him something so he knew where he came from, something his parents had been holding onto and probably never planned to give him. She spoke all about herself, his father, the gemini coven, and most importantly what he was. She was honest with him, she told him the good things as much as the bad. Towards the end she had started writing down spells and what they did, telling him to practice them safely, to be never use the magic he got in a way that would harm others. That was how he found the locator spell.

He had set the whole thing up like she had written down. He had gone as far as going back down to the basement to siphon the rest of what was left of the magic in the bear. He was ready to find where Ryan was but as he started chanting, his father came into the room and went crazy at the sight of what was going on. Leo immediately panicked and with no control of the magic, the night officially became his second outburst. His father approached him and Leo put his hands up defensively, which sent his father flying towards the wall. His mother came in screaming at him and things went flying, one of which hurting her in the process. He ran out of his room, out of the house, and just kept running, things going haywire all around him as he did. He found himself in the woods eventually, crying so much that he exhausted himself, falling asleep bundled up on the dirt ground beside a tree. His father found him hours later, took him home. They didn’t speak about it. They didn’t have to. Leo was scared of himself enough. He gave up the idea of searching for Ryan, hoping that she was okay. He tucked the notebook away, only bringing it out to read every once in a while as he grew up.

When Ryan returned later that year in July, Leo felt elated knowing she was okay. He had thought that maybe things could go back to normal for them, but he was wrong. She was withdrawn and he could tell the difference with her, between them. Eventually, Leo got the picture that he should keep his distance. So even though she had returned home, he felt left alone anyway and that carried on as he grew up. He got the grades his parents wanted, he was the quiet kid that kept to himself with barely anyone to really call a friend. His parents didn’t want him to be secluded so they of course pushed him to do things, but Leo insisted he was fine spending more time on his own. Ryan and him would hang out of course, spend time together but nothing like how it was and that distance seemed to grow over time, something that Leo felt resentment towards but he never acted on, never so much as showed a sliver of it. When he graduated high school, he knew exactly what he wanted to do. He hated feeling so scared of who he was because of what he was, he wanted to prove to himself and to others (unknowingly) that he could help them which is why he decided to become an EMT.

Present

Leo had already had his eyes opened to the other supernatural species that existed, but after becoming an EMT he was really exposed to it, with the random attacks that he’d have to tend to. Now, as he always has, he sticks to himself. He likes his little routine that his life has become because hopefully it means nothing will go wrong for him. He moved into his own place a little over six months ago, a little apartment he is able to call his own, well, with a little help from his parents. When it comes to magic, Leo doesn’t really have an interest in it, if anything he just wants to learn how to be able to control it in case he stumbles into a surge of it like he has in the past. It’s made him tempted to reach out to those he knows with it, to learn from them but he’s still just as scared as the young boy he was.

Connections

Ryan Sheppard

His older sister that he loves immensely, he just wishes that they could be close once again.

Caleb Archer

The two have backgrounds that have caused them to feel rather hesitant in life and find common ground in that along with their awkwardness, which has allowed them to bond.

Freya Mikaelson & Hazel Prince

Really wants to talk to them about magic but is hesitant to open himself up to that.

[docholligay]

This is basically just a “by way of apology” type thing ahahah

“Win!”

She was on top of him before he could respond, hanging off of his shoulder and grinning brightly. He looked over at her. Her eyes were bright and shining, hair tossed about like cheerful waves, and in the bounce of her body he felt every inch of joy emanating from her. 

If he had reason to doubt it, the quick kiss she gave to his nose sealed the argument. 

“Hi, Lena.” She smiled at her. There were few delights in his life quite like when she was happy. 

She bounced off his shoulder onto the desk next to him and sat cross legged, holding her ankles and rocking just a touch. “Whatcha doing?” 

“Programming for some of Mercy’s lab equipment.” He chuckled what would you rather have me be doing?” 

She laughed and leaned forward, patting his hand. ‘I’m ever so obvious, can’t hide who I am, can I? I was thinking we should go out to the park today, the sun is out, and I’ve made us some sandwiches, bought a slice of cake. We can stop and get something to drink, I didn’t know quite what you’d want.” 

“What for?” 

“It’s a beautiful day in London, and I was thinking about you.” 

Tracer said this things without a hint of artifice, and Winston always found it disarming. Tracer loved him, in a way he did not know it was possible for him to be loved. She simply enjoyed being around him, without the need for him to do or be anything. She pinned none of her hopes on him, and did not hold him responsible for her failures or the failures of science. His work had been partially responsible for the accident that had disabled her, and yet to hear her talk, the idea never crossed her mind. 

She was a strange little thing, and Winston would have done anything for her. But she simply asked him to exist. 

And, sometimes, to play hooky. 

“Come on!” she jumped off the desk and took his hand, pulling at him as if she could yank him to his feet, ‘This will wait, right? But a sunny day in London? It won’t love, won’t at all.” 

Winston looked back to his work. It was important, of course, everything Mercy did was important, and really he should stay.  But it was very difficult not to get whipped up into the frenzy of Tracer’s joy at life, into the bounce of her walk and the chirp of her voice. 

She jumped up at him again, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. Years later, whenever Winston was trying to call up the memory of her, the thing he missed most was the way she smelled. He had videos of her, and pictures, but once the scent of her had finally faded away from the bed linens and sweaters, he had only his rough idea of what it had been like. Bright and cheerful citrus from the cologne she wore, a touch of leather from her jacket, and a warmth of sunshine and crisp sky that Winston could only ever tack down to Tracer herself. 

Without knowing he was going to do it, he hugged her tight. There was something of magic in the way she had taken what should have been, and likely was, one of the worst days of her life, and turned it into friendship, into family. That was the miracle of her, he thought. Life was always beautiful, the way she looked at it. He wanted to be more like her, but it was enough, for now, simply to bask in the sunshine of her. 

She leapt back, smiling and looking at him expectantly. 

“Okay.” He smiled and pushed away from the desk. “You talked me into it.” 

“Made you peanut butter and banana!” She ran for the door and jumped, hanging off the sill for a moment before dropping. 

“You better not.” She scowled as he walked after her. 

“Naw,” she laughed, “S chicken salad. But I couldn’t resist, couldn’t resist. Do you mind if I ask Em if she wants to join later? Thought the three of us could head to the pub,” he opened his mouth to protest, ‘And don’t be like that Win, I’ve already asked Isla and they don’t expect to be busy so there’ll be plenty of room, and besides you’ve all the same right to be there as anyone else. Free country, innit?” 

She stopped and turned to him, her figure silhouetted against the windows at the top of the stairs, beaming brightly in her pink and orange shirt, CA glowing and somehow not managing to take the attention off the rest of her. It was strange, in these moments, when he was overwhelmed by how much he loved her. How he would never be able to properly explain how much she meant to him. 

“Win?” 

He shook his head and smiled. “I’m coming. The pub sounds great.” 

It’s little moments, that make up a life. Winston remembered the grand ones, of course, but there was always a part of him, when he thought of her that turned to sunshine, and chicken salad sandwiches.