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yourtoradorasextendedwarranty · 2 years ago

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Define Woman

So this is going to piss some people off, but frankly speaking I don’t give a damn.

The words woman and man were words used to define the sex of a person. However, we ended up with a situation where gender is no longer a reference to sex, but instead to some strange amorphous concept with no meaning whatsoever.

Gender in it’s original context was just and only “Man” and “Woman”. In their original meanings. Which was, “Man: Adult Human Male” and “Woman: Adult Human Female”. The reason these distinctions are important, is because gender originally had no difference from biological sex. Somehow however, because of bad actors like John Money (A child abuser, pedophile, and scientific hack) he both was the foundation of and the root cause of the normalization of terms like gender fluid, gender non conforming, and other stuff related to the term gender.

Basically this monster is the reason the term gender now means nothing at all. What’s worse, there are politicians and parents worried about their kids now, and are asking biologists, doctors, and scientists, to define what a woman is. Asking if only women can get pregnant. If only women can get periods, and resoundingly, a lot of them have bowed down to the new radical norm that is, “Trans women are women”.

And yes. It is a radical ideology. You might ask why. Simple answer? Because woman is SUPPOSED to mean as stated above, “Adult Human Female”. So by claiming that trans women are women, you are falsely claiming that trans women, who are biological men, are SOMEHOW able to ignore science, and just by the logic of claiming as such, have become biological women.

The dangers to this are vast but let me explain one of the biggest ones. I recently saw a doctor, though I question her credentials, say that “...trans people should be able to change their sex assigned at birth on their licenses...” First of all.....no one is “Assigned a sex at birth”. If you really believe that you should be stripped of any ability to practice medicine. Sex is observed at birth. Not assigned.

Secondly, men and women have biological differences. Not just sex organs. The types of medication and the amounts of those medications are VERY different. There’s a reason that drugs need to be tested on both men and women and women that are pregnant and may become pregnant. Because there was a lawsuit in early years that found that drugs were not universal, and affected men and women differently.

Imagine walking into the doctor, and they see your ID, and it says, “F” on the license. And you tell them, “I’m a woman, give me the drugs you would a woman”. And it injures you permanently or kills you. Congrats. You are a moron with no one to blame but yourself. Because fun fact about medications. They don’t just affect you differently based on your sex, but also your size, and other medications and health complications.

Though as things would have it, there are trans people that think the most inclusive thing is to NEVER be asked about if they are trans, and always HAVE to be treated like the “gender” they identify as. I’m sorry Susan, who used to be named Steve. Medication isn’t “Bigoted”. Biology isn’t “Bigoted”. Your entire life is based on a fabrication that you can be literally anything you want to be. We don’t live in a fantasy world though. Medications, much like biology is rooted in fact. And it doesn’t discriminate. And no amount of screaming into the wind, will change that.

And there are people that are going to find this post to be, “Transphobic”. Well sorry you are offended by reality but the ideology you are trying to push is dangerous. Why? Well aside from the medical risks in regards to medications, there are also the complications that come from transition surgery. Which frankly there are a lot of. Contrary to the popular activist pushed idea that surgeries, and hormones will have zero negative effects whatsoever.

It gets more rough when you realize how many people are not sterilized because rushed transitions. Wonder how many dead bodies will be enough from detransitioners, and people who don’t realize they are not trans, who need mental health help instead, but just get told to medically and chemically castrate themselves. How many have to die? How many lives need to be ruined before it’s too many.

The answer? For the people I’m directing this at, it will never be enough. Because most of you believe that a 2yo can decide they are trans, and should just get put on hormones immediately, and have their junk cut off. The sooner the better right? God forbit they are too young to know that on their own. God forbid parents are capable of abusing their kids. Like Jazz Jennings. Who’s mother is basically abusing “her” and using “her” for fame. And you might say, “Why are you putting her in quotes?”. Because I don’t think Jazz is a girl. I think that Jazz’s mother wanted a daughter, and decided to take advantage of how easy kids are to impress upon, and created a daughter. Said mother also on the Life of Jazz show mentioned that she has to wake Jazz up in the middle of the night to dilate. And they will personally take the dilator, lube it up, and wake Jazz up to use it. Even when Jazz doesn’t want to.

And said, “Oh no, when Jazz goes to college, I better not find out that they are not dilating themselves, she’s going to strangle Jazz”. Sure call it humor. I see it as a, Jazz better not take this dream of having a daughter with a fake vagina away from me”. No normal human talks like that. She basically got famous for transitioning her 2 yo and she is loving the attention.

What kills me the most though is the attempt to change what woman means. So what did they change it to in order to be more “inclusive”? “Woman: An adult human female, or a person who otherwise identifies as a woman”.......Which is a funny as hell definition, because it cites itself in the definition. Meaning you get caught in an endless loop of what the word means, which is nothing since it can’t have a meaning while citing itself. What’s worse though is that the definition also doesn’t renounce it’s association with biological sex. Which is more or less criminal in my opinion. Because if “woman” is only a reference to “gender” then it should remove it’s association with biological sex fully. And I’ll just start calling everyone male or female.

Right up until they decide that they need to change the definition of Female to something it’s not. Though I will admit, it’s going to be comical watching feminist loose their shit when they start losing rights because when words change definitions, so to do laws.

So again. Define woman.

And before someone tries to imagine this whole rant is because, “You clearly hate trans people”, realize what I want is less harm in the world. Less harm means NOT chemically castrating kids. Less harm means not cutting off body parts of kids who are not even old enough to consent to the consequences of sex, much less permanently cutting parts of their bodies, and chemically stunting their growth.

Pretty sure if most of the suicides of trans people were looked into, it wouldn’t be because of lack of acceptance. It would be lack of proper mental and emotional health. It would be the fact that rather than addressing the mental health of a person we just rush them to transition.

The last point I will make is this. Once upon a time, you could be a guy or a girl, and rather than being taught from childhood to hate yourself, we just told guys, hey if you want to wear a dress, wear a dress. We might think you are gay, but ya know, maybe you just want to wear dresses. We told girls, hey if you want to wear a suit or jeans, you can do that. We might think you are a lesbian, but maybe you just like looking more masculine. Who knows. It was kind of a given for a number of years that you didn’t have to conform to gendered norms. Hell, in the 90′s girls started wearing baggy clothing in mass. That didn’t make them not women. It just means they wanted to dress comfortable, or act more masculine in general.

Now a days, if the wrong people, see that, they will go out of their way to convince that girl, that she is NOT in fact a girl but a boy in a girls body. I consider that to be harm. Because what happens when that girl is peer pressured and led into believing she IS a boy. Then as soon as she transitions all of a sudden, her life gets a lot harder. She is stuck on chemicals for years, and might have a number of medical issue crop due to cross sex hormones or the surgeries done to the body not lasting. Her life goes from however hard it might have been, to 100x harder, which she won’t be prepared for, because no one is going to tell her what all is going to happen. And no one except people not following this narrative, are going to tell her the truth about the risks. No one except people that are not following this narrative are going to tell the person to go to a NON affirming therapist before they make any medical choices.

I can’t count the number of people I’ve seen share stuff like off market CSH’s and blockers to minors. I can’t count the number of people I’ve seen share information on shrinks that will just give you a note so you can start hormones SAME DAY. And that’s scary to me that the people harmed the most by this are kids and those whom are autistic. And when they eventually do off themselves, the people who suggested all of that will go, “IT”S NOT MY FAULT! MAYBE IF SOCIETY WORSHIPED US THIS WOULDN”T HAPPEN!”. It’s sad but this really is a sick form of eugenics. And the people falling for it will end up never able to have kids or in fully developed bodies. And I feel bad for them. *sigh* This is a lot longer than I wanted it to be. Maybe I’ll turn it into a video with just audio and repost later. Just stay safe out there.

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yourtoradorasextendedwarranty · 2 years ago

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It gets worse than that even. We see people LOUD that “Trans women are women” but you never see that in the reverse. You often never see, “Trans men are men”. I’m not however saying that it doesn’t happen but consider this. It WILL get to a point that “Man” and “Woman” mean nothing at all. One of the things OP needs to realize and mg-dl is that Woman as a definition, cites the word in it’s own definition. In essence it means that the word has no concrete meaning whatsoever. Man used to mean (before neo progressive academics highjacked academia) Adult Human Male. Woman had the same context. Adult Human Female.

Part of the problem with us erasing the proper meanings of words is that it causes issues within not just civil conversation but it also changes laws. Much like how women can’t be guilty of rape, only sexual assault, Now if the LAW reflects the dictionary, Trans women CAN’T be guilty of rape. And consider this. In the new definition of “Woman” it not only cites itself, but also says “Anyone who identifies as a woman”. It doesn’t say, “Provably” or “has to have identified for X period of time or anything else. This concept and notion BREAKS our legal system even more than it already is. And it’s why words should not change unless there is a proper precedent for them to change. And woman in that regard didn’t. Since the definition CITED it as being in direct relation to biological sex.

And what’s more, these same people advocating these same changes also scream that “There is no difference between men and women biologically” when that is SUPER false. And want to be able to change things like your Biological sex on your birth certificate and Drivers License. That information, is needed by doctors. Certain medications affect Males and Females differently and varying dosages also have to be observed. This also not considering the fact that some of these people are SO delusional, they will outright tell doctors they ARE the sex of the “Gender” they identify as. Not realizing this could kill them or permanently injure them. This not ALSO considering the fact that you have to stay on hormones for a very long time if not your entire life just to keep the affects.

Gender is not a thing. Gender as a pushed concept words was only used minorly by society to refer to biological sex without having to say “sex” nonstop. More over since sex became the normalized term for intercourse. Then people like the Pedophile child abuser John Money came along, and pioneered the entire concept of gender identity, gender fluidity, etc. And unironically “Gender Identity” as not relating to Gender Dysphoria which in it’s original definition meant “Biological Sex Based Dysphoria” is even funnier when you realize that It’s a concept based on social constructs. Like “Boys play with cars and wear jeans” and or “Girls play with dolls and wear dresses”. EVEN FUNNIER THAN THAT, was the fact that in the 1990′s-2000′s there was a hard push to end most gender based stereotyping. It was a “Let boys dress however and let them still be boys, and let girls dress however and still be girls”. NOW however, we see a large group of people DEMANDING we reinstate those norms, AND medically cut parts of people, and pump them full of chemicals to make sure Boys only play with boy things, and girls only play with girl things. HELL there was a story of a man who up and decided that “My little boy is a trans girl”. And do you know HOW he came to this conclusion? His TWO YEAR OLD BOY attempted to grab a dress one time. Ever since then, he and his wife have been socially transitioning the kid, and potentially even medically.

SO like anamericangirl I don’t deny that trans people exist. They do exist. But I think there are a LOT of things we need to take into consideration when it comes to stuff involving what is trans, what it means, and why the obfuscation of language will have SIGNIFICANT impacts where people don’t want it probably leading to harm. Like we see with Females, in women’s prisons getting pregnant while behind bars. Man, I do love the fact my tax dollars now have to pay for the healthcare of criminals in ways I should never have to.

While a trans woman would be a male, they are still women. Gender and sex are different things, with gender being the psychological counterpart to the biological sex. You can be a male and still be a woman. Or you can be a female and be a man. You need to get with the times.

“You need to believe what we tell you believe despite what the truth is.”

Sounds like you would have been a-ok with slavery when that was the official narrative.

I’ll consider “getting with the times” when you define the word woman without using the word woman.

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asklittlepip · 2 years ago

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youtube

Mehmet Oz is a lying quack. And he’s running for office in my state. No, you don’t get to be called a ‘Doctor’ when you sell snake oil for over a decade.

Now, the top video is from 2014, but he’s still up to the same old tricks. Their ad campaign is running misleading spots I keep seeing on TV which imply their main opponent is doing all the crazy shit that cult-whose-name-is-a-letter believes, and even wanting to make murder legal; even though the clip they show cuts off the rest of what was said. Wanting to abolish a law does not always mean you want to make something legal; but it does mean you think the law is flawed and needs replacement, not merely to be adjusted.

But then, this is a man who repeatedly claims to have found “miracles”, then when asked to his face, under Congressional testimony, flat out denies it, and has continued to do so. He should not have a medical license or any political power, period. And of course he thinks you should use an anti-malaria drug, for a parasite, on an unrelated virus, which never made any goddamn sense..

Fuck him, fuck the traitor Doug Mastriano and all the other mediocre men who are trying to follow up on America’s Beer Hall Putsch, Greg Abbott is a little piss baby, and DeathSantis is also a piece of shit. Heck, let’s throw in a fuck Rafael “Ted” Cruz too while we’re at it, who hides his name & origin while simultaneously demeaning transfolk and being anti-LGBT+ in general!

And as usual, fuck Trump! 200,000 pages, holy shit...

#politics #pennsylvania #mehmet oz #mediocre men #fuck trump #youtube #john oliver #last week tonight

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shemarmooresfedora · 4 years ago

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Collision Course

Summary: You and Spencer were just bound to collide. Only fate could plan a first meeting that unique.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content/Warnings: fluff, minor car crash (no serious injuries), swearing, sexual harassment (specifically cat-calling from a stranger), mentions of eating a lot of food, implied allusion to sex (not specifically stated)

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: this is my one-shot entry for @ellesgreenaway ‘s 1k follower celebration! congratulations! <3 i’ve had this fic in my drive for a while but i never got around to finishing it until now

Masterlist

The metro was down for scheduled repairs today. JJ offered to bring Spencer in but he politely declined. He figured he should drive his car at least every once and a while so it doesn’t just collect rust in his parking spot.

Leaving his apartment 15 minutes earlier than he normally would to account for his rather slow driving, Spencer cautiously reversed out of his space.

He sighed in relief that he had not hit the neighboring cars. Spencer began to pull out of the parking garage. Unfortunately, he was so relieved from his little victory that he forgot to check both ways when he drove out of the parking garage.

Spencer slammed on the brakes but it was too late. He hit a young woman jogging and knocked her to the ground. Luckily, his average speed was that of a snail so he hoped her injuries were not too bad.

Spencer put the car in park and got out, “Oh god, oh god, oh god. Are you okay, miss?”

“I think so,” you were on the ground, assessing your body for any damage.

“Can you stand?” Spencer extended his hand to help you up.

You carefully stood, wincing a little when you put pressure on your left ankle.

“Is there anyone I can call? Do you want me to drive you to the ER?” Spencer frantically asked.

Your eyes widened, “No!” you stated a little too loudly, “Um I mean no thank you. I should finish my run anyways. I have a 5k for Alzheimer’s research coming up and I need to run or else I don’t raise any money,” you politely waved and took off again, much slower this time.

Spencer cringed as he watched you limp slightly every time you stepped on your left ankle, knowing it was his fault you were in pain. He sighed and pulled out his phone.

“Hey JJ, have you left yet? I need a ride, I’ll explain in the car.”

“Pretty Boy, how was your drive in?” Derek asked as soon as Spencer stepped off the elevator with JJ.

“I got about 20 feet and then hit someone with my car and had to call JJ so not great,” he admitted.

“Boy Wonder, you did WHAT? Are they okay?” Penelope gasped.

“She insisted she was fine but then she was limping away. I offered her a ride but she didn’t seem too keen on getting in a car with me,” Spencer explained.

“I wonder why,” Emily chuckled.

So there Spencer was. In the park in his only pair of short athletic shorts and a hoodie.

He had asked Penelope to sign him up for the 5k as a way to sort of make it up to the woman he hit. Plus, obviously it was for a good cause that was near and dear to his heart because of his mother.

Spencer had to take a lot of water breaks, periodically stopping to walk for a bit.

In the distance, he saw you on a bench and he suddenly felt the energy again to continue running to you. As he approached, he saw you tightening an ankle brace around your left foot and to make matters worse, you had a wrist brace as well.

Spencer considered just leaving you alone but he felt the need to apologize.

“H-Hello,” he awkwardly sputtered.

“Oh, hi,” you replied.

“I am so so sorry. Please let me pay your medical bills and any other expenses that I caused,” Spencer apologized.

“Unless you meant to hit me then it’s fine,” you stood from the bench.

“I definitely didn’t and I wasn’t on my phone or anything like that. I just barely ever drive but the metro was down today,” Spencer explained.

“You don’t have to pay my medical bills. I’m friends with a nurse so she did this for free. However, I would allow you to sponsor me for the 5k,” you answered.

“Absolutely,” Spencer nodded, “And funny story, you inspired me to register as well. I got everyone in my office to sponsor me.”

“That’s so great! The money is certainly going to a good cause.”

Spencer saw you smile for the first time since he met you.

“I’ve never been much of an athlete though. I barely passed my fitness test for work,” Spencer admitted.

“What kind of job has a fitness test?” you asked.

“I work for the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI,” Spencer stated.

“Oh shit, you’re a federal agent? Maybe I will sue you and make bank,” you grinned.

Spencer’s face reddened.

“It was just a joke. You can laugh, then that means the incident is in the past and no hard feelings,” you smiled, “I’m Y/N.”

“Spencer.”

“Well, Spencer, if you ever need a running buddy, I’m more than happy to come along seeing as we both are training for the same thing. But I do have to warn you, this brace is kind of a bitch so I’m a little slower than normal.”

“I can assure you that you will probably still be faster than me with the brace on so maybe it was a good thing for me that I hit you with my car so you won’t be miles ahead,” Spencer grinned.

You laughed wholeheartedly, “See, Spencer! I’m laughing about it so no hard feelings, all is forgiven.”

“I’m just finishing up for the day but I was planning on being here again on Wednesday at the same time if you want to meet at this bench,” you offered.

“Yeah, I can do that,” Spencer nodded.

“See you around, Spencer. Hopefully not in your car though,” you winked and waved.

“Oh god, you’ve fallen in love with the chick you almost killed,” Derek groaned.

“Not love...well, yet anyways. She’s so pretty and easy to talk to and isn’t mean to me after everything that has happened and her laugh is like honey,” Spencer smiled softly, recalling the sound in his mind.

“Okay, lover boy,” Penelope giggled, “Did you get her number?”

“No but we’re meeting for a run tomorrow. We actually met at the park when I was training,” Spencer said.

“So she’s seen you in those short shorts and agreed to another meeting? Maybe you do have a chance, kid, cause you really put it all out there,” Derek smirked.

“Speaking of, I actually need to get more of them,” Spencer sipped his coffee.

“Just go all the way and get spandex. Leave nothing to the imagination,” Derek chuckled as Spencer rolled his eyes.

“Jesus, I’m going to have to hit your right leg this time if I’m going to have any chance of keeping up with you,” Spencer huffed as he bent over his knees to catch his breath.

“Well good news is that was four miles so you definitely will be able to run a 5k because it’s only 3.1 miles,” you encouraged him.

“Technically, it’s 3.10686 miles but I see your point,” Spencer heaved.

“I know a really good smoothie place nearby. Come on, it’s on me,” you grabbed his hand.

Luckily, Spencer’s face was already red from exercising so you weren’t able to see the blush that formed on his cheeks.

“No, it’s definitely on me. I know you said we’re fine but I am forever going to be indebted to you because of the incident.”

“Spencer, really just forget about it,” you assured him.

“I can’t, I have an eidetic memory,” he grinned.

“Ah, I see. Fine, you buy me one smoothie but then we’re even,” you conceded.

You were walking down the street to the cafe when you heard a whistle come from one of the cars driving by.

“Damn, your ass is looking sexy in those leggings,” a man hollered from his passing truck.

You flipped him off and tried to pull your shirt down as much as possible, crossing your arms tightly around your front.

Spencer unzipped his hoodie and extended it towards you, “Sorry, it’s a little sweaty but if you want to wear it, you can.”

You smiled softly and accepted the sweatshirt, feeling more comfortable now.

“I’ve got his license plate number memorized and I intend to file a police report. Unfortunately, reports like these usually don’t go very far but I’ll keep pushing it through. I’ll also call the company that was printed on the side of the truck and ask to speak to his supervisor,” Spencer spoke softly after a few minutes.

“Thanks, Spencer,” you leaned your head on his shoulder and sighed.

“You don’t have to thank me for that. I’m just doing what’s right. He had no right to make comments about your body,” Spencer said, wrapping a gentle arm around your upper waist.

“Welcome to Y/N’s carbo-loading extravaganza!” you opened the door of your apartment to let Spencer in.

“I brought dessert as requested,” Spencer held up a chocolate cake.

“I like how you think, Spencer. Dinner’s all ready,” you smiled.

“Spaghetti, meatballs, and crispy buttery garlic bread,” you pulled the bread out of the oven.

“Looks absolutely delicious,” he complimented.

“Eating carbohydrates before a race boosts the glycogen storage in your muscles allowing you to work out longer,” Spencer informed you.

“Interesting, I never knew the science behind it but I’m never going to complain about eating tons of pasta and bread,” you twirled some pasta on to your fork.

Halfway through the meal, Spencer accidentally got a sauce stain on his pale pink shirt.

“Oh no,” you said as he tried to dab it away.

“That needs to soak right away. I don’t want any casualties at the carbo-loading extravaganza. Give it to me to scrub and I’ll get you another shirt.”

Spencer unbuttoned his shirt and peeled it off. You gulped at the sight of him shirtless, grabbing the shirt and heading to your bathroom sink to scrub it with laundry detergent.

“You can just grab any t-shirt from my room that you think will fit,” you called out to him.

Spencer settled on a light gray shirt with a golden retriever on the front.

“Okay, the stain is out! It’s just soaking now-“ you immediately stopped talking as soon as you saw the shirt Spencer was wearing.

He noticed your eyes were beginning to glisten with tears, “I’m so sorry. I can pick a different shirt,” Spencer was already beginning to pull it over the top of his head.

“No it’s fine, Spencer. That’s just my grandma’s t-shirt. I forgot I even had it.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” he spoke guiltily.

“You didn’t know, besides it looks good on you anyways,” you smiled, “My grandma is the whole reason I’m running the 5k.”

“My mom has Alzheimer’s too so I understand that it’s extremely hard to watch a loved one go through that,” Spencer pulled you in for a hug.

You cried into his chest as he rubbed soothing circles on your back.

After Spencer hadn’t heard any sniffles in a while, he whispered, “Do you have any tea I can make you?”

You nodded and Spencer guided you to the couch, wrapping you in a blanket before turning the kettle on.

Spencer answered the cheerful knocking at his front door early in the morning.

“Race day! Are you ready?” you exclaimed.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess,” Spencer smiled.

“I promise we are sticking together the whole time because it doesn’t matter how long it takes us as long as we finish,” you held up your pinky.

“Together,” Spencer affirmed, locking his pinky with yours.

The starting line in the park was only a short distance away from Spencer’s apartment so you and Spencer decided to walk there as a little warm-up.

You and Spencer were doing quad stretches when you saw his eyes wander to something behind you and then widen. His face immediately reddening.

“What?” you asked, turning around to see a group of people with a sign that read ‘Go Spencer and his girlfriend!’

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t expect them to do that,” Spencer stammered.

The poor boy was so flustered so you decided to take it easy on him.

“I don’t mind,” you shrugged with a slight smile.

“You don’t?” Spencer clarified, “I’m not very good with words or flirting in general but I would like to see you again after the race is over. Maybe I could take you out to dinner?”

“Yes but my only condition is...I’m driving,” you smirked.

“Oh, you’ll pay for that,” Spencer grinned.

An air horn sounded, signaling the start of the race.

“I think you’re going to have to catch me first, Dr. Reid,” you giggled as you sprinted ahead.

“It’s in sight, Spencer! We can do this!” you pointed to the finish line in the distance.

“Y/N, you’re going to have to carry me. I can’t,” Spencer heaved.

“If you finish this race, I will…” you cupped your hand to his ear and whispered something.

Spencer immediately perked up and started running again.

“Hey, wait up!” you laughed.

You and Spencer crossed the finish line at the same time. Spencer’s legs immediately gave out which caused you to fall too, collapsing on top of him.

“I know I’m really sweaty and gross right now but can I please kiss you?” Spencer whispered.

Your lips were pressed on his as soon as he finished his sentence. You honestly didn’t know how long you had been kissing for but you didn’t look up until you heard one of the race officials shout, “Hey lovebirds! That’s very sweet but other people are trying to cross the finish line.”

“Sorry!” you and Spencer apologized, scrambling to your feet.

“Not really,” Spencer whispered to you and you jabbed him in the side with your elbow playfully, stifling a laugh.

what slightly inspired this fic is one time @samuel-de-champagne-problems commented on one of my posts “i could never stay mad at spencer” and then i thought to myself “same. i couldn’t stay mad at him even if he hit me with his car” and now here we are... 🚙

taglist: (just ask to be added or removed!): @samuel-de-champagne-problems @g0lden-cth @spencerreid9 @averyhotchner @coldlilheart @k-k0129 @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @harrystylesandthegoobs @cmily @jswessie187 @rem-ariiana @hoodpankow @mochionly

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #cm fanfic #spencer x reader #reid x reader #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x fem!reader #ellesgreenawaybookclub

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theyscreamjade · 4 years ago

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

Severe Silence

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

Disclaimer: Slight Gore, Abuse and Acts Of Violence

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

Eijiro Kirishima

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Izuku Midoriya

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* Then, he knew..something was wrong.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Katsuki Bakugo

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* No one hurts you. No one.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Iida Tenya

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

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

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

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

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

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

* When the message came through, you passed out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

295 notes · View notes

five-rivers · 3 years ago

Text

Long Night in the Valley Chapter 15

It's been a bit, hasn't it?

Toshinori pushed himself up off the ground with trembling arms. Although, by the position of the sun, it hadn’t been for long, he’d blacked out when—

“Oh, no,” said Toshinori. His head throbbed at the sound, making the edges of his vision go dark and fuzzy.

When All for One had broken through into the shared mindscape.

“Oh, no,” he repeated.

Where was Izuku? He had to find—Oh, thank goodness, Izuku was right there. He let out a sigh of relief.

His relief was short-lived. Izuku, to put it lightly, did not look well. His eyes were open, but only glazed slivers. His breath was coming shallow and fast, not quite to the point of hyperventilating, but it was a close thing. His skin was pale, except for deep, bruise-like circles under his eyes. He was sweating more than Toshinori had ever seen him sweat (which was really saying something; Izuku broke out into nervous sweats with some frequency). Perhaps most concerningly, he was shaking like a leaf.

Izuku was, Toshinori realized, still maintaining the effect of Two’s quirk.

He tried to reach inside himself, contact his predecessors, but swiftly pulled his mental fingers back, as if they had been burned. Bad idea.

“Izuku,” he said, “can you hear me?”

Izuku made a small, pained noise that tore at Toshinori’s heart.

“I’m going to pick you up, okay?” he said. Izuku didn’t answer, but then Toshinori didn’t expect him to.

The simple act forced Toshinori to call on the embers of One for All. Not enough to make his muscles swell, but enough to give him the strength of an ordinary, healthy man. His muscles and his remaining intact lung screamed in protest, not to mention his scars. He ignored them.

He stumbled forward, priorities shuffling themselves. They’d been trying to escape, but if Izuku was this ill… he needed a doctor. An exorcist might be a good idea, too, what with All for One running around in their heads.

But to get a doctor, they’d have to put themselves in commission hands, and Toshinori could feel the echoes of Two and Three telling him exactly how stupid that would be.

The commission had sent Hawks after Izuku. Toshinori had no doubt they’d throw him in Tartarus, and the treatment of criminals in Tartarus was one of the few things Toshinori had publicly disagreed with the HPSC on in his hero persona. Not that it had gone anywhere. He simply hadn’t had the time to really push it and the commission had somehow managed to paint him as somehow too good, too forgiving, to be trusted when it came to the disposition of terrible villains.

“’ll be’kay,” mumbled Izuku, the sentiment clearer over their mental link. “N’ospital.”

“Okay,” said Toshinori, slightly breathless. “Let’s—Let’s keep going, then. Find a good place to camp out, far away from Todoroki Touya, here. Yep.” He was aware he was rambling, and needlessly at that, but he couldn’t help it.

One foot in front of the other.

Was that a car running?

Toshinori, keen on getting help and care for Izuku, even if it meant hijacking a car, changed directions slightly. Of course, it would be ideal if there were friendly bystanders who didn’t believe the hero commissions lies and had a medical license and a healing quirk, but Toshinori would be more than happy with—

He stopped. Laughed. Laughed some more, a little hysterically. There, abandoned in a ditch like a beached sailing ship, was Vlad King’s much abused car.

Sure, it would have been reported stolen by now, and the police and heroes would be looking for it, but that was a problem for future-Toshinori. Present-Toshinori, on the other hand, was simply grateful for the windfall, and wary – the presence of the car could indicate the proximity of the League of Villains.

He gently put Izuku down in the passenger seat, turned the car off and made sure it was in the appropriate gear, then walked around to the back of the car and lifted it out of the ditch.

If his muscles had been complaining before—

He staggered back to the driver’s seat, leaning heavily on the side of the car the whole time. Blood dripped from his mouth. “This is nothing, my boy, nothing,” he said in what he hoped was a reassuring tone, as he felt Izuku’s concern press heavily against him. “Used to have worse every day of the week.”

Toshinori got the sense that Izuku was not, in fact, reassured. Nevertheless, he grinned, pouring every drop of his fabled ‘everything will be alright’ smile into the expression. Even if Izuku couldn’t see it, Toshinori needed some of the comfort that came with donning a familiar mask

“Let’s see if we can get to the Wild Wild Pussycats today, after all.”

“Eri-chan,” began Abe, tapping together her papers. She’d drawn the short stick. Ito was interviewing one of the older students, and Abe got the feral child.

“No,” said Eri.

“I didn’t even ask you a question yet.”

“Only people I like get to call me -chan. That’s the rule. Prinzible Nezu said so.”

“Principal,” corrected Nezu, cheerfully, like the unhelpful rodent rat bastard he was. If only she could have gotten him kicked out… but, no, he and Present Mic were both sitting in on the interview.

“PrincipalNezu told me, and he’s in charge.”

“You tell ‘em, Eri-chan!” said Present Mic, just a little more loudly than was comfortable.

Eri nodded to let Present Mic know the noise-cancelling earplugs were working.

“In this situation,” said Abe, sternly, “I am in charge.”

The girl tilted her head, and suddenly her expression went from ‘pouting child’ to ‘superior being contemplating an uppity insect.’

“Eri-san,” began Abe.

“No,” said Eri.

Abe looked up incredulously. What was wrong with -san?

She decided to ignore it. “You spoke with—”

Eri began to scream like a teakettle whistling.

“Can’t you control her?” Abe demanded, turning to Nezu, who chittered.

“This is very good progress!” he said, barely loud enough to hear over the ongoing shriek. “Before now, Eri-chan was too hesitant to act out or misbehave in any way, fearing the punishment that her former and completely unqualified caretakers would inflict upon her.”

Abe didn’t know which was more longwinded, the still-screaming child or the rodent principal. Her body was so tiny, how was she still screaming?

Eri clicked off the Present Mic-themed combo audio recorder and player in her pocket at the same time she shut her mouth. Principal Nezu was right! This was fun! At least, it would be if Deku was here.

“I get to pick what you call me,” said Eri, patiently. Since this person wasn’t smart enough to see that Deku was only the best hero ever and not a bad guy, she’d have to explain slowly.

The person evidently wasn’t even smart enough to breathe, as she was slowly turning purple.

“What,” she said, in stilted tones, “would you like me to call you.”

Eri let the smile Aizawa had taught her spread across her face. “Eri-sama.”

“Is that a joke?”

“It’s very important to respect the boundaries children establish, Abe-san,” said Nezu.

Katsuki blinked. It was about time he woke up. Stupid dream time dilation or whatever. Stupid boring soy sauce face and his stupid boring mindscape dreamscape whatever hellscape. There was a limit to what you could do in a square mile that mostly consisted of a tape-covered jungle gym and a boring apartment building. Katsuki had found it, and, after spending a good period of time being angry about it, had decided to go to sleep.

Dream time dilation or whatever the commission proctor had been going on about after the first billionty-and-one stupid hours, it didn’t matter, Katsuki hated it, it was just taking too damn long. If he didn’t have to do this to keep his provisional license, he’d tell the commission to shove this stupid pointless training up it’s—

About a minute after he should have twigged to something wrong, Katsuki realized the ceiling was too familiar.

He sat up. Why the hell was he in UA’s infirmary?

And not just him, about half the class was here with him.

He scowled. So, something had gone wrong with the test after all, and it looked like Deku wasn’t involved. Stupid nerd would hold it over him.

“Hey!” shouted Katsuki, spotting Recovery Girl. “What the f—”

“Language!” scolded Recovery Girl, shrilly, practically teleporting across the room to jab Katsuki with her cane. “You’re in a school, young man.”

“I know that!” protested Katsuki. “But why the f—” he faltered under the force Recovery Girl’s gaze even as she started to run through the checklist she usually did for people who’d been knocked out like wimps. “Fudge. Am I here.”

“I think the more pertinent question is, how are you awake? There should be at least one more hour, if not two, left to that quirk.”

“I went to sleep,” said Katsuki, attempting to fend her off.

“Well, you wouldn’t be waking up if—”

“No. In the shhhtupid dreamscape thing. I went to sleep.”

Recovery Girl paused for a moment, then sighed. “I don’t suppose you were the one whose mind they were exploring?”

“No. That was soy sauce face. Why are we back here? And where’s the nerd?”

Recovery Girl seemed to droop at his question, and a heaviness filled the air. “That’s a long story.”

“Did we get attacked by Dusty McGee again?”

“No.”

“So, what did happen?” snapped Katsuki. “The nerd break out a new quirk in the middle of the training or something?”

Recovery Girl’s eye twitched, and she sat down on a nearby stool, taking a deep breath.

“The hero commission suspected Midoriya of working with the League of Villains and attempted to use the training to interrogate him. Under the influence of at least one mental quirk, Midoriya fled. At about the same time, All Might left and met up with him, after which the commission accused Midoriya of kidnapping All Might. They haven’t given him an S-Rank villain classification, but I suspect that’s just because the paperwork hasn’t gone through yet.”

All right. Honestly, with his creepy stalker notebooks and obsessive All Might shrine room, Deku probably seemed like a prime kidnapping suspect to an outsider, but considering that Katsuki had witnessed Deku and All Might’s sickeningly sweet interpersonal interactions, somehow managing to be a goddamn third wheel to some sort of surrogate parent-child found family drama nonsense…

“Has anyone told ‘em it’s more likely the other way around? And that if it was, it’d probably be for the nerd’s own good, too?”

Recovery Girl nodded tiredly.

“They hiding out here?”

“Midoriya is a wanted criminal.”

“So what?”

“We’re a school.”

“You’ve lost me.”

Recovery Girl sighed. “No, Midoriya is not here.”

“Well, that’s stupid. What are we doing about it?”

“Right now? You are doing nothing. Commission investigators are in the building, and it would be better if they thought you were still unconscious.”

Katsuki grumbled. “Should go and try to bring him back.”

“What, so he can be arrested?”

“No!” said Katsuki, defensively. “But he’s probably running around out there making everything worse!”

“Bakugo,” said Recovery Girl, patting his leg, “from what I’ve heard, the only thing that could possibly make this worse is being found.”

“Can you describe to me the circumstances under which you lost your quirk?” asked Ito, the other commission investigator.

“Sure!” said Mirio, hoping the man couldn’t detect his discomfort at the subject. Even if he’d made that split second choice to shield Eri with his body with full knowledge of the consequences, to jump in front of Nemoto’s bullet, it was still a traumatic experience. It still hurt, even if he didn’t regret it.

He took a deep breath. “Well, it was during the Shie Hassaikai raid. I had gone ahead to confront Chisaki Kai and rescue Eri. There were a few other yakuza with him, members of the Eight Bullets. Nemoto Shin, Sakaki Deidoro, and, ah, Chrono, I think. I can’t remember his proper name.”

“That’s fine. Please continue.”

“I engaged with Sakaki and Nemoto while Chisaki and Chrono went ahead. I was affected by their quirks, but managed to get by… It was a hard battle!” he interjected, suddenly. He belatedly realized he wanted to draw out this line of questioning, and dove into a supremely detailed description of his fight with Sakaki and Nemoto. It was funny, too, and he saw Ito getting sucked in.

Sir would have been proud.

“And then, I chased after Chrono and Chisaki!” said Mirio, gesticulating wildly to illustrate his movements. He continued narrating the battle, the wild swings of fate, Eri’s hope and fear, the strikes and counterstrikes! Just like when he’d first debriefed after the raid.

Weirdly enough, going through it like this also made him feel better. Less like he was reliving a terrible, painful moment in his life, and more like he was telling a very dramatic story.

“—aaaaaaand,” he wrapped up, “Chisaki tossed the gun with the erasure bullets to Nemoto – I hadn’t realized he was still conscious. I’d been too worried about getting to Eri.” He shrugged. “I got shot.”

“Despite your quirk?”

“I didn’t want Eri to be hit.”

“Even though the loss of her quirk might have been a blessing for her? Considering the difficulty she has using it and the pain it gives her.”

Mirio felt his smile settle into something blander and more dangerous than his usual beaming grins. “Are you suggesting that I should have let a six-year-old be shot?”

“Not at all,” said Ito, making a mark. “Now, where was Midoriya at this time?”

“He hadn’t caught up to us, yet,” said Mirio. “He was with Sir.”

“Who?”

“Sir Nighteye,” clarified Mirio. “Before that, they were with Rock Lock and some of the others, I believe.”

“But you don’t know for sure.”

“I wasn’t there, so… no, not really. But the exact situation should be on file, from our debrief, and Rock Lock can confirm or clarify.”

“Only the parts he saw,” said Ito. “Did you try to use your quirk after that? Or did you simply assume it was gone?”

“Of course, I tried to use it!” said Mirio, feeling somewhat offended. “I’d trained it to be reflexive. Right after, I kept thinking my quirk would protect me, and moving too slow to dodge attacks. I got really beaten up.”

“And was this before or after Midoriya Izuku arrived?”

“Before, mostly,” said Mirio. “It isn’t like the fight stopped the minute he showed up.”

“And you are certain your quirk stopped working before Midoriya arrived.”

“I’m sure.”

“How did you know you were hit by a permanent quirk-erasing bullet?” asked Ito.

“Well, when my quirk didn’t come back we were pretty sure,” said Mirio.

“But you didn’t know beforehand, for certain, that the bullets were permanent.”

Crap. Mirio had screwed up somewhere in there. He could feel it.

“I think Nemoto and Chisaki were shouting at each other about it during the fight,” said Mirio. “They were pretty proud of it.”

“But you did not know, for sure, that your quirk loss was permanent,” insisted Ito. “There was no way for you to know that their claims about the bullets were true.”

“I mean… not really,” said Mirio. “But, again, here I am without a quirk.”

“Yes… but that isn’t the only way a person can lose a quirk, is it?”

“The Scourge of Kamino was already in Tartarus when the Shie Hassaikai raid took place,” said Mirio. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”

“Did Midoriya Izuku come into contact with you before the end of the day?”

“We talked, yeah,” said Mirio.

“Physical contact.”

“Actually… no,” said Mirio. “After the fight, we were both whisked off to the hospital, separately. Midoriya came to visit me after we both got patched up, he felt guilty about not getting to me and Eri sooner, and--” Oh, dear, he’d have to think back on that conversation a bit more. Later. He swallowed. “--and… Sir’s death…” He looked down at his hands. “Sir… in retrospect, he didn’t like Midoriya very much, but his death hit Midoriya hard. First death in the line of duty. It… it was the first time I’d seen a hero die, too.”

“You’re quite certain he didn’t touch you? At all?” asked Ito, undeterred by Mirio’s not-at-all-feigned grief.

“Pretty sure, yeah,” said Mirio, now annoyed by the investigator’s callousness.

“I see.”

Ochako rubbed her eyes, but the darkness stayed. “What,” she said out loud, her voice somehow doing the opposite of echoing, “what happened?”

“I don’t know,” said Todoroki. He had positioned himself so as to guard her back.

“There was a bang,” said Iida, “and then…” He trailed off, clearly finding just as much difficulty in describing the event as Ochako did thinking about it.

“They were talking about All for One getting in,” said Ochako. “You don’t think…?”

“Maybe we timed out the quirk and we’re about to wake up,” said Iida, optimistically.

“Where’s Aizawa-sensei?” asked Todoroki.

“I don’t know,” said Ochako. “He was standing with us… I mean, I couldn’t see you guys at first, either.”

“I’m here,” said Aizawa.

Ochako turned to see their teacher methodically scanning their black surroundings, his eyes red. “Do you know what happened?” she asked. “Do you think this is just, I don’t know, a new transition? A memory?”

“I don’t know,” said Aizawa. He blinked, eyes returning to their normal colors.

“It isn’t,” said an unfamiliar voice. The figure of a young man with uncut white hair slowly faded out of the darkness. “Hello.” He raised a hand. “I’m One. Or, I guess, you can call me Kazuki. Sorry about the landscape. Most of our mental resources were just rerouted.”

“Does this have something to do with that vault thing Izuku mentioned?” asked Ochako.

“Yes, sadly,” said One. “My brother’s broken out. Which means you really shouldn’t be here. All our minds are about to become battlefields. I have some techniques that might help you get out, but--”

“Six told me there was something taken from Midoriya that we could get back, if the vault was open. Is that still a thing?”

One raised a fist to his lips, and pressed down. “You understand, don’t you, that to search for this is to go into my brother’s mind?”

“If it’s to help Midoriya,” said Todoroki, stepping forward, “we’ll do anything.”

“That is very admirable of you,” said One. “I do mean that, I really do, and I’ve seen your heroics and spirit through Izuku’s eyes. But I’m not sending children to fight my brother. Eraserhead, you’d be going alone.”

“I can work with that,” said Aizawa.

“But we won’t be in any real danger!” protested Ochako. “The worst that could happen to us is that we’ll run out of time and wake up. Right?”

“Don’t underestimate my brother. Judging from the fight at Kamino, he lost a lot of quirk control and strength after his first fight with Eight, or else he’d never have been captured. But that’s only if we take it at face value. I don’t doubt that he has five or six plans in place to escape Tartarus and steal every interesting quirk in there, thereby increasing his power exponentially, or even healing himself.”

Ochako blinked. How would anyone heal from… Wait. “Overhaul.”

One’s smile was a bitter thing. “I certainly wouldn’t have put the two of them in the same prison.”

The villain at Kamino, already strong enough to go toe to toe with All Might, with Overhaul's power? Ochako shuddered.

"What did he take from Midoriya?" asked Aizawa. "I'm going to need to know before I do this."

"You're sure you want to do this, then?"

"I haven't decided."

One sighed and pushed his hair back, out of his face. Ochako was struck, momentarily, by how the color of his eyes perfectly matched Izuku's.

"My brother took what he always takes," said One. "His quirk."

"But!" protested Ochako. "He has a quirk! He has..." she trailed off as another revelation hit her.

"He…" said Iida, next to her, "has several quirks."

"He has your quirk," said Todoroki with one-hundred-percent unwavering confidence.

"You had a quirk like All for One," said Aizawa. "But considering what we've seen… the quirk to pass on quirks?"

"That's why you call yourselves by numbers! Because that's the order you had the quirk in!" added Ochako.

"I prefer thinking of it as the ability to share quirks," said One, "but since everyone but Eight and Nine is dead, the distinction is academic."

Aizawa sighed and ran a hand over his face. "Okay, let me get this straight. You and... your brother both had meta quirks. He could… give and take quirks. You could just pass your own quirk on. He decided to become a criminal mastermind. You decided to, I don't know, invest your quirk until someone had enough quirks to fight your brother?"

"And they're all related," said Todoroki.

"And you're all related," said Aizawa with an air of suffering.

"It was significantly less intentional and more complicated than that, but, yes, those are the basics."

"And, for some reason, All Might thought that it was a good idea to pick a teenager for the job."

"In his defense, Eight thought my brother was dead. The one you should really be throwing shade at is Seven."

"I have questions."

One tilted his head. "Normally, I would answer them, but we're running out of time."

Aizawa sighed. "Alright. I'll do it."

"We want to help, too!" said Ochako.

"Three will find a way to ghost murder me if I get you involved in a fight with my brother."

"So would I, incidentally," said Aizawa, "and then I'd expel all of them."

Iida cleared his throat. "Is there any way for us to help without coming into contact with All for One?”

“Yes,” said One, clapping his hands together. “Getting out before that Suzuki fellow does and giving Izuku some good publicity.”

One’s image seemed to waver and split, then, as if Ochako had crossed her eyes. She blinked, hard, but after that there were still two of them.

“I’ll lead you to my brother’s mind,” said one of the Ones, waving at Aizawa.

“I’ll stay and try to help the rest of you get out,” said the second One. “We should - Oh.”

“Oh?” repeated Aizawa. “‘Oh,’ what?”

“Oh, we forgot about someone,” said One.

“Oh,” said All for One, catching sight of an anomaly. “Who is this little intruder to our gathering?”

“Just some government lackey,” said Miranda, hands still for now, but in a position where she could likely summon ball lightning in a matter of minutes. “Not someone you can use as a hostage.”

“Actually,” said Ryuji, who, unusually, had yet to disappear from All for One’s senses, “if you could figure out a way to get rid of him, it would be convenient.”

“Two!” snapped Nana.

“Come on, we were all thinking it,” said Ryuji.

“You can’t use a him as a murder weapon,” hissed Nana. “Nine will get in trouble.”

“You’rethe one who repeatedly dropped him from a dozen stories up. And the one who was fantasizing about murdering him in real life.”

“That daydream could have belonged to anyone.”

“It had Gran Torino in it.”

“Eight knows Gran, too!”

All for One coughed, returning the full attention of the vestiges to himself. “Is this a pathetic attempt at a distraction?”

“Do you know any other adjectives?” asked his little brother, who was slouching off to the side with his hands in his pockets.

All for One sneered. “Are you not taking this seriously?”

“Not really, no,” said Kazuki, “and neither are you, or else we’d be fighting already. We both know that what you can affect here is limited.” He started counting off on his fingers. “You can’t bring us back with you, you can’t affect Nine’s morality, you can’t take the stockpile, you--”

“I knew it!” shrieked the little intruder, jabbing a finger at All for One. “I knew it! You’re All for One! Midoriya is working for you!”

“Hey, if you’re going to do the sibling thing and prove me wrong about the whole ‘can’t do anything’ thing, can I suggest you start with him?”

All for One narrowed his eyes and scanned his relatives. There was an uncharacteristic lack of protest.

“Are you briar patching?”

“No,” said Hibiki, “they’re quite serious. I personally would prefer it if you didn’t kill him, but not enough to risk myself.”

He could always trust Hibiki to be blunt and straightforward. He got it from his wonderfully forthright and businesslike mother. He hadn’t loved her like he loved his current, still-living spouse, but she had been refreshing.

“Mood,” said Rokuya.

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” said dear, sweet Izuku, raising a hand, “but I’m not actually comfortable letting All for One kill him in front of us.”

“Don’t try that now! You’ve shown your true colors, traitor!”

“Don’t worry, kid,” said Daigoro, “we’re pretty sure he won’t be able to.”

“Torture, then.”

“Not sure he can do worse than Nana did.”

“All I did was drop him!” protested Nana.

“Repeatedly, from a great height,” Miranda reminded her.

Everyone was much more relaxed, now, and… were they ignoring him? They were!

“Are you all under the effect of a quirk?”

“Yeah,” said Kazuki. “How else do you think this is happening?”

“No, I mean… your personalities… they’re all…” He gestured at the One for All users who had stopped to watch him.

“Niichan, I’ve tried to tell you this before, but at least for me, I’m not all that great a person. You just suck so enormously that I look like a saint in comparison.”

“That’s not true!”

“It is,” said Kazuki. “I mean, think back to our first argument. I was less concerned with your overall morality and more concerned with the fact that the demon king alway loses--”

“Excuse you, but I’ve beaten every one of you.”

“No you haven’t,” said Hibiki. “I, at least, died with no input from you.”

“Killing you is obviously different from beating you,” said All for One.

“I mean, by the time you chucked me in that vault, it had evolved to a moral and ethical complaint,” said Kazuki, his one visible eye unfocused in remembrance. “But it started out with me worried about you getting yourself killed.”

“No it didn’t.”

“It really did. You know, I don’t think I ever told you this, but if you’d been twenty percent more ethical? I would have absolutely been on your side.”

“What.”

“I mean, it was you, the government, and ragtag resistance groups, and the government sucked.”

“I can confirm that,” said Miranda, “and it continues to be disgustingly corrupt. But since you’re also swimming through the human experimentation cesspit, we’re staying where we are. Don’t get any ideas.” She ended the sentence with a hiss and fog started rolling in.

“I agree that if you stayed away from the kidnapping, murder, and cult stuff, I would have probably stayed with you,” said Ryuji. “Except you did do all that stuff… Why are we even talking about this?”

“I would add personal freedom to the list of things I’d want from you in the hypothetical world where we stayed on the same side,” said Hibiki, “but, otherwise, I agree.”

All for One blinked several times, a small part of his mind cherishing the fact that he had eyes. “Do you all feel that way?” he asked, oddly touched but also strangely disturbed.

“No,” said Daigoro, “the rest of us hate you and the government just about equally.”

All for One turned his gaze to the quivering ‘government lackey.’ “I see. So, I suppose I have the government to thank for this turn of events. Hm? What did you do to have these soft-hearted fools so upset with you?”

The little man squeaked and jabbed something like an epi-pen into his leg. A second later, he vanished.

“Wait,” said Izuku. “Wait. THAT’S how to get out? That’s so stupid! Can we do that?” The last was said as an aside to Nana.

“Not with him here,” said Miranda. Her voice had dropped back into its more dangerous registers.

“Oh, so we are going to fight after all,” said All for One, clapping his hands and smiling. “What fun.”

“I can’t believe you distracted him and got Suzuki to leave like that,” said Aizawa as they stepped out of the fog.

“Well, my brother always did like to hear the sound of his own voice. And be a jerk, but I’m sure that was obvious,” said One. They came to a stop in front of a normal-looking apartment building. One sighed. “This is where we lived,” he said. “Before…” He sighed again.

Aizawa examined One out of the corner of his eyes. He looked tired.

“How much of what you said back there was true?”

“Huh? Most of it, really. My successors built me up as some kind of big good, but I was never anything but a normal guy with a slightly more functional moral compass than my brother.”

From what Aizawa had seen so far, he suspected One was seriously underselling himself.

“I’m sorry,” said One, “but I’m going to have to leave you here. Nine’s quirk should look like a younger version of himself. He couldn’t have been any older than five when it was taken.”

“Anything else I should know about?”

“Sorry, not really… I’ve not exactly been inside my brother’s head. If you manage to find a switch labeled ‘empathy,’ you might take a second to flip it on. Or not. Could be booby trapped. Wouldn’t put it past him.”

“Great,” said Aizawa.

“Midoriya-san,” said Mr. Compress. “We’ve been searching for quite some time now, I hate to say it, but I rather suspect that your son has thoroughly escaped.”

“Escaped,” repeated Midoriya. “Like a prisoner.”

Mr. Compress coughed into his fist. Tomura glared at him through a fog of exhaustion. He was wearing a mask. Why bother with the fist at all? Sometimes, Tomura felt like the only sane person on a planet of aliens.

“Honestly, we didn’t even know he was in the area, Midoriya-san. But… Perhaps at this point, the best course of action would be to return to our, uh… temporary base so that you can get some clothes. I’m sure Dabi will have something that can fit you.”

“Or maybe,” said Toga, hesitantly, “Magne might have had something?”

“Excellent idea, Himiko! Yes, I’m sure Magne’s clothes will be much more appropriate.”

“I don’t know that dressing her in a dead woman’s clothes is a good idea?” whispered Twice.

“Normally,” said Midoriya Inko, “I would say that the fires of my anger at Hisashi provide me with enough warmth to scorch the ground I walk on but—” she shivered, “—unfortunately you may be right. I’m not a young woman anymore, and Izuku would want me to be safe and healthy. So that I can give Hisashi a… firm talking to.”

Tomura shuddered. The ice in her tone was more frigid than the toilet seat in their stupid unheated bathroom at night.

… He hoped Sensei didn’t get a mind reading quirk in the near future. He definitely didn’t want him to know about that metaphor.

“Machia, will you be a dear and take us back? And Mr. Compress, would you put Dr. Garaki back in one of your marbles? I suspect he’ll be… more comfortable that way.”

At least Tomura wasn’t the doctor.

Machia leaned down and let them all get on, though not before fixing Tomura with a glare and delivering some glitchy threat about the ‘Little Lord’ and ‘playing nice.’ Completely redundant, what with Midoriya Inko’s much more pertinent and detailed threat regarding the same thing.

“Hey,” said Twice. “Do you guys smell--? It’s like a barbecue!”

Himiko sniffed the air. “It does smell kinda smokey, guys. Do you think Dabi got in a fight, too?”

“With who?” asked Tomura.

“Well, Izu-chan has to still be around here somewhere, right?” asked Himiko, putting a finger to her lips.

Machia sped up.

“It’s probably just the wind blowing someone’s bonfire smoke this way,” said Spinner.

Machia slowed down again.

Tomura frowned. “There shouldn’t be anyone close enough for that,” he said. If Dabi had set the forest on fire and given away their position, he was going to murder him.

Machia sped up again.

They came into sight of their current base and the source of the smoke.

These happened to be the same thing.

“I’m going to kill Dabi,” said Tomura.

“Are we sure it was him?” asked Twice.

“I don’t care.”

#bnha #boku no hero academia #fic #fanfic #long night in the valley

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thanksjro · 4 years ago

Text

More Than Meets the Eye #22- If You Don’t Love Thunderclash, Get Better Soon I Guess

One last issue before we reach Comic Event Hell.

Time to use a dead man to set up the rest of the nonsense that’s got to happen, because apparently 14 issues of setup, including six issues of literal prelude, wasn’t enough.

The first bit of information we’re presented with is the fact that Chromedome and Swerve are on the opposite sides of the camera-shy scale. I guess that’s bound to happen when your spouse has had his video-cam literally connected to his brain for at least several thousand years.

The art may look really gritty and hardcore here, but this is actually due to a filter Rewind has over all his footage that he’s neglected to take off, because it made all the wartime propaganda he would stuff into people’s heads all the more brutal-looking.

No, this is the style of our artist for this issue, James Raiz, who we’ll be seeing a fair bit of over the next several issues. Raiz has worked on the Transformers franchise over the course of multiple license-holders, as well as contributed to both Marvel and DC comics. He also works in special effects, including matte painting and VFX. That’s just neat.

Anyway, the reason Swerve’s completely frozen in place isn’t because Rewind switched out his head-mounted camera for a gun that goes off if it hears you make a self-deprecating joke, but rather because he’s conducting interviews with everyone in the main cast. We get all their introductions, Cyclonus makes a statement about his political stances, Drift sounds like he’s high as a kite, First Aid strikes a sassy pose while not being bitter in the slightest, and Ultra Magnus makes a move that would get him murdered on any given film set in the universe.

You do NOT use your bare fucking hand to clean a camera lens, mister. Go get a microfiber cloth and try the fuck again, you complete and utter duffel bag of a creature.

We get a quick cut of the speech Rodimus made back in issue #1, with an angle that implies that Rewind was in the front row of the front row, then cut over to Rodimus asking Rewind to document their Capital-Q Quest. This is where we establish that this film doesn’t only contain footage from Rewind’s personal camera, but also that of the Lost Light’s security system.

Which feels like the sort of access you maybe wouldn’t want to give some nosy little film buff, especially when you have a secret giant serial killing sadist living in your basement like a disappointing adult child.

See? He was given the job to record the adventures of the Lost Light not five minutes ago, and he’s already using his powers for evil. Eavesdropping evil. Absolute power corrupts absolutely, Rodimus, and you just handed it to the guy with a massive Dominus Ambus-shaped chip on his shoulder.

So Rewind’s got permission to film just about whatever he wants, and Rodimus figures it’ll be nonstop action from here to the finish line! Fights! Intrigue! Mild hijinks and peril! Explosions aplomb! Oh man, I can’t wait to see what kinds of crazy shit will happen on this absolute roller coaster of a Quest!

Smashcut to Swerve literally falling asleep in the middle of a conversation. Yeah, as it turns out, no quest, capital Q or not, is nonstop action. Which is good, honestly, because that kind of seems like it would be exhausting after the first week or so.

Swerve, Tailgate, and Rewind are discussing cool alt-modes, which seems like an odd topic, seeing as Tailgate and Swerve have basically the same situation going on there, leaving Rewind alone in the camp of “does not have wheels”.

I worry about you sometimes, Rewind. Internalized Functionism is a very real problem. Uh, well, in your universe anyway. Us humans have to deal with regular ol’ classism and racism.

Rung gets brought up, and it’s revealed that the wheel on his back is almost purely cosmetic; it doesn’t even actually attach to his body. The lads decide that they’ve got nothing better to do, and set up a gentlemen’s wager- first one to figure out Rung’s whole deal gets 100 space-dollars.

Throwing shit at people’s heads will be a major plot point in the climax of this comic series.

Swerve’s go at trying to win the bet involved tossing a grenade at Rung to hit him in the neural cluster, which is rumored to be able to force an involuntary mode change if done correctly. Obviously, it didn’t work this go around. Then our narrative focus switches over to the crew’s hobbies.

You were listening to Prince, weren’t you, Magnus? Not even deep space is safe from the Cease and Desist.

Skids’ hobby is meeting new people, because he suffers from the terrible curse of being so fucking good at everything he tries, he always ends up dropping whatever he picked up, because what’s the point? This acts as a segue into another flashback, to even MORE bullshit that the fellas got roped into on Hedonia.

These are the Stentarians. They’re like the Cybertronians, if they were better in every way.

And by “better”, I, of course, mean “more bloodthirsty, warmongering, and driven enough to make their civil war last about as long as the Jurassic Period”. Also, they’re all combiners by default, and Whirl seems a little TOO into their whole situation. So much so, in fact, that when the Imperial Guard of their race show up to kill them, he decides to do them a solid by single-handedly ending their entire war.

You know, in most cases you’re supposed to show and not tell for visual media. This is way funnier, though, so it can be excused.

We jump back into the interviews, and Rewind’s just asked everyone if they’re happy. This might seem like an odd question, until you remember that everyone on-board this ship has crippling depression and PTSD, and Rewind’s married to one of the saddest motherfuckers to ever exist, so he probably has this question loaded into the proverbial chamber at any given moment. We won’t cover all of the answers here, because they’ll be more poignant to reflect back on later in the comic run, but let’s take a gander at the characters who’ve completed the first leg of their character arcs this season.

Drift, is that perhaps… an honest expression of your inner thought processes happening right there? Has Rewind broken through your carefully crafted persona, if even for just a moment, with his question? Perish the thought!

Because Tailgate outed himself as being baby in issue #21, I have zero doubt he’s not exaggerating here. He was a janitor, then he fell in a hole and became Dirt-Nap Supreme for six million years; even the most boring day on the Lost Light’s got to be better than that.

And it’s nice to see Chromedome on a good day for once. Hopefully he reveled in it while he had the chance, because this interview takes place maybe a couple weeks before he fucks everything up big time and has to blow up his husband with a missile strike.

Getting back to the Mystery of the Rungian Alt-Mode plotline, we see Rung using his backpack as a wheelbarrow- no idea what he’s actually pushing in the damned thing- and wearing the most disgruntled face I’ve seen him pull in a hot minute. Someone yells for him to come down the eerily unlit and sinister-looking hallway, which he does. Rung would not do well in a horror film.

He winds up at Swerve’s, where Tailgate, Swerve, Brainstorm, and someone who is most likely Trailcutter, given the colors, are hanging out in their alt-modes. Tailgate’s ploy to find out Rung’s deal is to do what he does best- lie! They’re having an alt-mode party, and wouldn’t Rung like to join in? There are, of course, logistical issues with being a car in a bar, especially when your drink is on the table and your head is tucked up somewhere in your torso, but never mind all that! Let’s get crazy!

This doesn’t work either. Maybe we should cut out the middle man here and just get Rung drunk enough to agree to a wet alt-mode contest.

No, I don’t have any idea how that would work.

In our next vignette, Rodimus comes into the comms room, Rewind trailing behind him like a grim shadow of death, to see what the hell Blaster wants, other than just the hugest glass of water.

Raiz’s work is very detailed, and you really feel the weight of these giant metal space robots, but everyone looks like they’ve been put through a food dehydrator.

We get a lot of build up to the character who’s about to be introduced, with a common opinion being shared amongst everyone- even Tailgate, who hates successful people like his life depends on it.

Lovely readers, put your hands together for the ideal male partner for Autobots, Decepticons, and Neutrals alike:

A man with so much charisma and charm that only Rodimus could hate him, Thuderclash brings to IDW what everyone wishes Optimus Prime would, making our disappointing space dad even more mediocre by comparison. He fights for justice, and freedom, and the good of the universe- and he does it all while having a chronic medical condition that forces him to stay within a certain distance of his ship that is also a life-support machine, otherwise he will die. Despite his handicaps, Thunderclash seemingly brings to others what they need most, even if they don’t even realize that they needed it in the first place.

He also, in this one scene, appeals to Drift’s religious sensibilities, does a secret best-friend dance with Ratchet (who he helped to pass his medical exams- yes, Ratchet), and congratulates Rodimus on his questing so far.

Thunderclash is one of those characters that everyone in-universe is supposed to love, and I completely buy it- because he’s completely genuine and humble about all of this the entire time.

Compare this to the last time Roberts wrote Thunderclash, in Eugenesis.

Where he was an ex-Decepticon.

And kind of an abrasive asshole.

And then he died.

Y’know, now that I think of it, Eugenesis Thunderclash and MTMTE Ambulon being basically the same character makes a whole lot of sense, even without the horrors of Roberts’ Twitter getting involved.

Thunderclash reveals that he, too, is on a quest to find the Knights of Cybertron, much to Rodimus’ chagrin. But first he needs the Lost Light to break out the jumper cables, and then for his second in command to stop threatening his life.

Turns out, not everyone is as obvious as the Cybertronians with their naming conventions. Whirl assassinated the wrong folks; I’m sure the Galactic Council is utterly thrilled. Paddox wants to steal the quantum engine technology for the good of his people, so they can kick the ass of the up-and-coming Terradore leader.

Completely unaware of the situation unfolding here in the lab, Swerve is directing Rung towards the warm, loving aura of Thunderclash for another go at winning the gentlemen’s wager- through the power of lying about having friends, Swerve’s “agreed” to get Rung Thunderclash’s autograph, in exchange for getting to check that Rung’s transformation cog is still working. Then they bump into the nightmare currently unfolding. My, whoever will save us from this dreaded menace, who holds a gun to the head of the Autobots’ greatest warrior, confidant, friend, and perhaps even lover?

How about a bartender and a giant vape pen?

Okay, so Rung doesn’t actually turn into a vape. It turns out that the Mystery of the Rungian Alt-Mode is also a mystery to the man himself. Because Rung is old as shit, the Functionists got to see this bullshit for themselves, and ended up testing him over and over and over trying to figure it out, lest he prove to be a flaw in their fascist ideologies. Fun fact: fascists HATE it when people they’re trying to oppress don’t play to their expectations.

The Functionists were the ones who gave Rung his little wheelie backpack, to make him at least appear useful. This sort of treatment tends to warp one’s head a bit, which would explain why he’s bothered to keep it for so long- internalized functionism’s a real bitch.

At least he’s not giving teenagers nicotine addictions under the guise of being somewhat better than cigarettes.

Back with Rodimus and Cybertron’s Autobot of the Year for 40,000 consecutive years, we get the unfortunate news that jump-starting Thunderclash’s ship is going to make the Quest go a bit slower for the Lost Light, much to Rodimus’ horror, though he does his best to put on a brave face; after all, that’s what heroes do, isn’t it?

It’s at this point that it’s revealed that “Little Victories” was being screened to all the Circle of Light members who didn’t get murdered or turned into Legislators on Luna 1, and man are these guys pissy. What was meant to be a recruitment video turned out to do just the opposite, because none of these guys want anything to do with what the Lost Light’s got going on.

Too bad Rewind didn’t have time for a cleaner cut for showing. Maybe they could have at least snagged a couple of these guys to tag along.

As all of the Circle of Light leave the theatre to go call everyone’s favorite Autobot to see if he needs a more crew members, the film plays on behind Skids, back to the interviews, as everyone promises more adventures just waiting on the horizon.

You’re not even on this trip anymore, you dork.

Chromedome gives us the title drop for the movie and issue, and we cut to Rewind organizing a group photo of all the interviewees.

And then Rewind died horribly like a week later. Thus ends season one of More Than Meets the Eye!

While I’m here, I’d like to take the time to cover a little bit of cut content from this issue, a scene between Drift and Ratchet.

Drift, during his interview, recalls the time that Ratchet called him into his office for a very serious discussion about his/Pharma’s hands.

Yeah, turns out they’re haunted.

Well, no, not really, because this is a prank. But Drift doesn’t know that yet.

Ratchet demonstrates this hand-haunting by punching Drift in the face, as he screams damnation at Pharma’s ghost. Drift, because he is a spiritual man, knows exactly what to do to deal with this possession; he draws his sword and chops Ratchet’s hands off, then throws them out the airlock.

This, too, is a prank, not that Ratchet knows it right away, yelling at Drift that he’s crippled him.

Clearly, these two belong together.

This bit of cut script was lucky enough to have gotten drawn by the colorist for MTMTE Season 1, Josh Burcham. Burcham’s line art is iconic- you won’t mistake him for anyone else. It’s rough and angular, and honestly just very charming. I’m a sucker for this sort of style. If you want to see his adaptation of this chunk of script- and trust me, you do- the link’s right here:

https://dcjosh.tumblr.com/post/107665292031/its-done-the-mtmte-22-deleted-scene-in-all-its

#transformers #jro #mtmte #issue 22 #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #comic script writing

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weathergirl8 · 4 years ago

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Master of Deflection - Part 4

Another update, I hope you enjoy! Thank you all for being incredibly supportive during this rough time as I try to navigate myself through this dark period. I am deeply grateful to have your support. I honestly don’t think I would still be here if it weren’t for your love and support.

This is for you @ak47stylegirl and anyone else who enjoys Alan whump/smothering. Of course, there will be some extra Virgil in there too, because I just love the big guy.

@gumnut-logic Virgil smothers for you!

@godsliltippy @misssquidtracy Gordon jokes and laying down the law for you!

As a friendly reminder, I originally came from the TOS and TB 2004 era. I’ve tried to write a few TAG point of views, but my comfort zone is the previous. This will take place with Gordon as the redhead, and Virgil as the middle bro. Sorry!

Summary: Being the youngest of five is always hard, especially when they pounce at the slightest hair out of line. Sometimes the art of deflection can sting.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

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

Daylight narrowly filtered into his bedroom as Alan slowly opened his heavy eyelids. The eighteen-year-old groaned as consciousness greeted him, and it was anything but welcoming. He swallowed with a grimace as his throat not only felt dry but painfully scratchy like sandpaper. Alan coughed as a tickle erupted from him, which only added to his misery as the rattle settled deep into his chest. He threw his covers off him as he felt smothered by heat, sweat collecting across his brow.

Turning to look at his clock, he noticed a note and a fresh bottle of water sitting on his nightstand. Alan groaned as he forced his achy body to reach the note before him. Unfolding it, Alan saw it was from his father.

Alan,

I came in to check on you, but you were sound asleep. I didn’t want to disturb you. Be sure to drink this water body to help stay hydrated. It’ll help with your headache. There is soup in the fridge waiting for you whenever you feel up to it. We can bring it up to you if you need us to. All you have to do is ask. I’ll come to check on you again in a few hours unless one of your brothers beats me to it. I laid another dose of your migraine meds on your nightstand so you wouldn’t have to get up. If you think you need another dose, I’d prefer you contact Virgil so he can check on you. For your old man’s sake, humor me.

Love, Dad

Alan smiled and laid the note back on his nightstand as he collapsed back into his bed. Closing his eyes, the teen moaned as his body ached once more, his head still pounding. Sniffling, he pulled the last Kleenex out of the box on his nightstand and blew his stuffy nose. He sighed when he didn’t see another box in sight.

Pushing his tired body up, he closed his eyes against the dizziness that stole his balance. A chill slithered its way throughout his body, causing the teen to throw the covers back over him quickly.

Nope, not worth making the trip to the bathroom.

Alan collapsed back into the comfort of his bed once more with a whimper as he realized he couldn’t handle this on his own anymore. Illuminating the face of his watch, he sent a quick text to his brother Virgil hoping the medic was both awake and near the device as it was still early morning yet.

He turned to grab a drink of water as he fought against another tickle in his throat while throwing the blankets off him as he suddenly felt heat overwhelm him. Alan felt his watch buzzing but was unable to answer as the tickle turned into a deep cough. The teen pushed himself up and tried to clear his throat. Fiddling with the cap on the water bottle, Alan attempted to take a sip of water in hopes it would help. He swallowed at the wrong time, making him cough more as he choked on the water.

“Alan!” he heard his brother call and felt Virgil’s steady arms around him.

“I’m okay,” he wheezed. “I just swallowed wrong.”

“Geez, kid. First, you text me you need me, and then you don’t answer. Then I find you in here choking,” Virgil barked. “What’s going on?”

“Virgil, can you take it down a notch,” Alan’s hoarse voice pleaded, wincing as his head throbbed.

“Sorry, you just gave me a scare is all,” Virgil exhaled as he eyed his baby brother precariously. “Are you okay? Is it your head?”

Alan coughed, groaning once more. “Yes and a few other things.”

Virgil frowned. “I don’t like that cough. When did it start?” he asked as he felt his brother’s forehead. “Yikes, kiddo. You’ve got a fever cooking there. What other symptoms do you have?”

“Headache still around. The cough started last night, along with the body aches. My throat hurts. One minute I’m cold, the next I’m sweating. It’s annoying,” the blonde grumbled, as another cough erupted from him, causing a grimace. “Chest hurts a little when I cough too.”

Virgil frowned deeper. “Let’s get you down to the infirmary and see what kind of fever we’re dealing with. I think you might have caught a nasty chest cold, Allie.”

“Lucky me,” Alan sighed. “Can’t I just stay here, and you can do your magic?”

“No can do, Sprout. I want to do a full-body check. If everything checks out, I’ll send you back here to isolate and rest. Deal?”

“Fiiine,” Alan whined and climbed out of bed slowly. As he stood, Alan felt his world tilt.

“Whoa!” Virgil exclaimed as he caught Alan around the waist, preventing the teen from falling. “Dizziness another symptom?”

“Yea,” Alan mumbled as he held onto his older brother.

“You okay?” Virgil worried as he continued to hold most of Alan’s weight.

“Peachy. Did you catch that bus that hit me?”

Virgil chuckled. “Afraid not, Al. Next time I’ll be sure to ask for license and registration. C’mon, let’s get you taken care of.”

-TB-

“I should’ve noticed this before the mission last night. I woke him up before the klaxon went off and something seemed off,” Scott cursed, leaning his head against the hallway wall.

Word had quickly spread across the villa that the youngest Tracy was sick. Virgil had kicked them out until he was finished examining the youngest Tracy.

“Alan is the master of deflection, Scott. He only lets us see what he wants us to see. Outside of the headache and general shock from that jerk Captain, he seemed fine,” Gordon said from his spot on the floor. “Besides, even you big brother can’t stop a cold from infecting one of us.”

“I could’ve stopped him from getting drenched in those freezing waters last night. Stopped him from being held by that Captain.”

“Don’t even go there,” Gordon said, looking at his oldest brother pointedly. “I’ve already had this conversation with Virgil. None of you are to blame. It happened, we dealt with it, and Alan is fine.”

“What did Virgil say to you?” Scott asked worriedly.

“Don’t worry about it. He’s fine,” Gordon reassured.

“I highly doubt that,” Scott scoffed. “Either way, I should’ve benched Alan last night.”

“You stop the kid when his mind is set on something?” Gordon mused. “How well has that worked out for you in the past?”

Scott glared at his younger brother.

“Okay, you two,” Virgil interrupted as the automatic infirmary doors opened. “You can come in.”

Scott didn’t waste a second as he entered the sterile room. Approaching Alan’s bed, he nodded at Jeff, who had stayed in the room. “Hey, buddy. How are you feeling?”

“I’ve been better,” Alan groaned.

“Don’t worry, Allie,” Gordon chirped from beside Jeff. “You’ll be good as new before you even know it.”

“What’s the diagnosis?” Scott asked, looking to Virgil on his left. The brunette frowned as Alan was overcome with a coughing fit.

“Something viral,” Virgil said. “Looks like a nasty chest cold taking him for a ride.”

“You’ll be fine in a few days,” Jeff smiled, running a gentle hand through Alan’s unruly mop of hair that desperately needed a haircut.

“I hope so,” Alan croaked as he swallowed, the action irritating his throat. He closed his eyes as a wave of exhaustion hit me.

“Tired?” Scott asked, rubbing Alan’s arm.

“Yea…” Alan replied, opening his eyes.

“You can go back to your room, Sprout. I don’t see any reason to keep you in here for the moment. I already gave you some Tylenol to help with your symptoms,” Virgil said.

“Is it okay if I stay here for a bit? I’m too tired to move,” Alan moaned with a sniffle.

“Sure,” Virgil smirked.

“Better mark that one on the calendar, guys,” Gordon chuckled. “How high is that fever?” he asked jokingly as he tried to reach around their father.

“Shut it, Fishface,” Virgil warned. “We don’t question good things!”

“Don’t get too used to it,” Alan coughed as he reached for a Kleenex to blow his nose.

“Alright, c’mon. Let your brother get some rest,” Jeff said, as he watched Alan’s eyes close.

Virgil rested his hand lightly on Alan’s shoulder. “I’ll check on you in a little while, okay?”

“Mmm,” Alan mumbled, and he was out within seconds.

“He’s wiped,” Scott frowned as they each exited the infirmary.

“Rest is the best thing for him,” Jeff added as they headed toward the office. “I better go update John on the latest and let him know to pack up.”

“Pack up?” Scott asked, confused.

“Brains was already planning on heading up to Thunderbird 5 today with a few software updates to the ship. I saw him on my way to the infirmary this morning and let him know Alan was sick. He offered to take over for a few days so John could be here to help out,” Jeff explained. “I told him we’d be fine, but Brains insisted.”

“Johnny’s coming down for a few days? That should be fun,” Gordon smiled devilishly.

“Gordon,” Jeff cautioned.

“What?” the redhead asked innocently. “I wasn’t going to do anything. I’m just excited to see the guy, that’s all, geesh.”

Virgil raised a suspicious eyebrow. “Sure, you were.”

“You have to convince John to leave first,” Scott said. “You know how he is about his rotations up there.”

“He’d be skipping out to see Alan,” Gordon added. “Just lead with that.”

-TB-

“So, the Sprout is sick?” John asked.

“Virgil said it looks to be mostly viral, but he’s keeping an eye on him,” Jeff reassured.

“Are you sure Brains wants to swap?” John asked apprehensively.

“Positive, John. He insisted. Plus, even if we don’t need the extra hand, it’ll be nice to have you five all earthbound again.”

John smiled. “It has been a while, hasn’t it? Even if the kid is sick.”

“Let’s just hope your brother will get over this bug quickly,” Jeff said, hopeful.

John studied his father’s features on the screen in front of him. “You don’t think he will? I thought Virgil said it was just viral.”

“He did,” Jeff exhaled. “Just a feeling, I guess. Your little brother tends to make me worry. Don’t mind me.”

John smirked in understanding. “I get it, Dad. So, how long do I have until Brains heads up here?”

“A couple of hours. Brains is loading Three as we speak with his equipment and extra supplies.”

“F.A.B. Tell Alan I hope he feels better, and I’ll see him tonight,” John acknowledged.

“Will do. See you soon, John,” Jeff smiled and disconnected the call. Leaning back in his desk chair, Jeff looked across the pictures on his desk. His eyes landed on an image of his sons at Alan’s graduation. A sense of nostalgia filled him as he remembered the day vividly. The patriarch tried to push his feelings of worry aside. After all, Alan was just sick with a cold. There was nothing to worry about.

TBC…

#thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2004 #alan tracy #virgil tracy #scott tracy #gordon tracy #jeff tracy #john tracy #writing #my writing #fanfic #part 4 #thunderfam

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the-scottish-costume-guy · 4 years ago

Text

JK Rowling, transphobia and a hopefully helpful post.

A few days ago I posted on my Facebook (yes I have one sue me) debunking some of the things Rowling has been saying on twitter. Since she made a statement I felt the need to make another one... but this time Im sharing it here. Please note this is long, it is fairly opinionated in places but her statements have felt so insidious I want to share something in depth. If you are cis I implore you to read, but I understand this is long and a lot of people wont want to. No judgement.

Jk Rowling’s latest statement is a mess of valid concerns and fear mongering. At this point there can be no claim she doesn’t know what shes talking about - she herself has said shes been researching this for years. She throws in token acknowledgements to “real” trans people while framing the rest of her statements as concern for confused teens.So first things first - and something that might not be popular with some of my trans friends. I agree that teenagers should not be able to medically transition. It is a choice that should be made when the brain is fully mature. Hormone blockers are something I trust - and that are reversible. I have seen enough detransitioned people hurting to feel like we do need to be careful - especially with children who are trying to find themselves. I dont know about other people but during my teens I was coming to the crushing realisation that I wasn’t special. I was learning that no matter how well I painted someone else did it better, no matter how badly I hurt someone had it worse - I was learning about the wonderful mediocrity of life, and having anything that made me stand out gave a brief reprieve from learning to be okay with all these things. For me to be fair it was dying my hair outrageous colours and dressing in black leather during 30 degree summer heat - but its still something we cant forget. I KNOW a lot of kids claiming to be trans are - and I dont want to keep that from them, however I dont want to cause harm to the kids that are wrong. Continuing on, I’d like to address her comments about TERFS. Terfs are Self Described Trans-exclusionary-radical-feminists and the term does get thrown around a little too liberally at times. Terf is not and never will be a slur. No more than “White” is. It is about a group of people who have taken it open themselves to segregate another group - and calling that what it is, is not a crime. The reason Terf and transphobe have become synonomic is because the ‘radical feminists’ that subscribe to this have lost focus on nearly all other issues of feminism and sit squarely on “dropping the T” from the lgbt community and “keeping men out of womens bathrooms.” Terfs are overwhelmingly women - this is sadly simply a fact. Terfs are reviled because of how much it feels like a betrayal to the community. A group that fights for rights - except ours. A group that wants equality - except for us. Its different to the conservatives who hate us all equally - with Terfs we are singled out. Terfs are not, as Rowling claims, inclusionary to Trans-men. I’ve been met with a combination of pity, loathing, mockery and revulsion by people within this group. I’ve been told that I shouldn’t let homophobia push me into transitioning - only for all correspondence to abruptly drop when I mention Im marrying another man. I’ve been told my old body was beautiful - only for stunned silence when I agree. I was beautiful - I was curvy, I was a dancer and had a body to match - but I wasn’t Me. When their usual arguments against me fail - I’m met with hate. Im called anti-woman, traitor, homophobic. I even have some such comments saved on my blog. I have yet to meet a Terf who was pro-trans-man. Rowling claims that had she had the ability, as a confused teen, she may have sought to transition. I hate to tell her but she did have the ability and trans people didn’t pop into existence in the twenty-first century. I’m actually looking to do my dissertation topic in my final year on lgbt presentation throughout history - and in my overeager way I’ve already started researching. James Barry has been becoming a common name for years - a transgender surgeon who died in 1865. If Barry was able to at least socially transition from 1790 to 1860, I am fairly sure Rowling could have in 1980 - over a century later. Rowling also claims that groups of friends in schools all suddenly identify as trans at the same time. Speaking from my school experience - the queer kids group together. We seek out others like us, and we take strength from each others bravery to come out - often around the same time. We almost get a rush of resolve when one of our group musters the courage and strength, and some of us use that rush to bite the bullet ourselves. Its one of the beautiful ways the lgbt community is here for one another - and the influx of people identifying as trans is partially a factor of more people knowing the name of their feelings. Survivor bias will ignore the trans people through history without the knowledge or means to transition - and will claim they were never trans at all. Her initial statements about charities worry me in particular. As I said last time - we know sex is real, we just dont really like to be defined by it. She is worried that we’re going to “rebrand medicine” and ignores that medications for years have had warnings in their leaflets about “If you are or become pregnant” regardless of if the person receiving it has a dick or a vagina. We dont advocate for ignoring the differences in how people respond to heart attacks - and I for one would like research to be done on how hormones effect that. I dont actually know if I would respond more like a cis gender woman or a cis gender man if I were to have a heart attack or a stroke. But where possible we do want to change the language around some of these things. I have had a double mastectomy, but some Cis-men have these as well. This is not a gendered term. Why should a period be called anything else? Why call it a “womens problem.” I and Im sure many other trans people, support the research into how different medical and mental issues affect different sexes. I just think that should be extended further - and we know it should, as some medical issues affect people of different ethnicities in different ways and we don’t know how. I am truly sorry that Rowling has experienced abuse and assault of any nature. I am truly sorry that she has felt unsafe. But her feelings do not invalidate others experiences. Of the trans people I know, a saddening number have been assaulted, have been abused and in particular have experienced these things domestically. There is much work to be done on this in the UK. There are nearly no mens shelters for sufferers of violence to my knowledge. I, a trans man who have experienced some of these things in my teen years, would Not want to be around cisgender women even if I could be. A cis woman was responsible for much of the pain I personally suffered - and in fact one of the acts of violence she carried out against me was directly after I came out as trans to her. Trans women, even if they could go to male shelters, should not have to be surrounded by a group that put them in danger - in a place that is detrimental to them physically and mentally and is frankly degrading. The belief that allowing trans women into shelters for those escaping abuse is dangerous is sad. To be so afraid is deserving of pity. To let fear blind you to the suffering of others - to think its better that a trans woman face homelessness or a return to an abusive household because you personally would sleep better at night is the kind of passive evil we should be aware of in this day and age. It comes from choosing to see the word “trans” before “person.” Its from choosing to see a persons genitals before their humanity. Trans people are not dangerous - and cause no greater risk than any other demographic. Her claims that she can empathise with this fear are empty. A gender recognition certificate is not a ticket into womens bathrooms. Funnily enough you dont actually require a piece of paper to go almost anywhere. I do not have a gender recognition certificate and use male bathrooms, can enter male spaces as I please. All a gender recognition certificate does is change the letter on your birth certificate. It doesn’t even affect other forms of identification - my passport, my student id, my drivers license all already say male. I am not sure why so many people have chosen this as their hill to die on because its the least relevant thing to them on the planet. How often have any of you seen another persons birth certificate? Rowling says she and other ‘gender critical’ (a terf dogwhistle) people are concerned for trans youth. Well… she can take her condescending concern and direct it to matters that are relevant to her. Trans people want to be left alone. Its a simple request, and yet people endlessly seem to trip over the dirt level bar.

#transgender #jk rowling #terf #transphobia #lgbt #uk politics #I'm prob gonna get shit for this arent I

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meet-the-decoy · 4 years ago

Note

Hey Decoy! What exactly is your role on the battle field?

MEET THE DECOY

Description

It isn't hard to see that she is the fairest one on the team. Decoy isn't afraid to use her feminine touch to her advantage and being on a team with mostly men has it's perks. But don't be fooled, this girl isn't as sweet as she looks. She's a babe with quite a bite.

Primary

Stock

- Duel pistols: (ammo 12/36 each)

Craft

- Boxing glove gun: (ammo N/A)

Gives Decoy the ability to punch an opponent with as much force as a Heavy.

- Pole vault: (ammo N/A)

Gives Decoy a 20% boost on acrobatics.

-Mini canon: (ammo 20)

Is similar to Soldier's rocket launcher. Each shot takes several seconds to reload but gives critical damage to enemies. Slows down agility.

Uncrate

- Chainsaw: (ammo N/A)

Gives critical damage at close range. Won't be able to preform acrobatics as a result.

- Bear trap: (ammo N/A)

Traps enemies for several seconds while giving mini crits. Can only be used once every 30 seconds.

- Water pistols: (ammo 100 each)

Counteracts Pyro fires. This weapon extinguishes teammates that are ablaze as well as sapping the enemy Engineer's buildings.

Secondary

Stock

- Hand grenades: (ammo 20)

Craft

- Fireworks: (ammo 20)

This weapon creates flash bangs and blinds the enemy for several seconds and can also light enemies on fire depending on range.

- Taser: (ammo N/A)

Electrifies enemies and paralyzes them for up to 3 seconds. Effects enemies differently. Has a cool down time of 3 seconds.

- Sling shot: (ammo 20)

Let's Decoy launch grenades just as far as a Demoman, letting her throw them farther then she originally could. It can also be used to launch health kits to teammates.

- Water Balloons: (ammo 20)

Extinguishes teammates who are on fire. It also washes way Jarate from teammates who may be covered in it.

Uncrate

- Throwing knives: (ammo 12)

Allows Decoy to trick stab like a Spy but at longer distances. Can be used during acrobatics.

- Playing cards: (ammo 3 decks)

Cards can slice enemies to inflict damage. Cards can be boomeranged back to be reused if thrown correctly.

- Grappling hook: (ammo N/A)

Gives Decoy the ability to get to higher nesting spots with ease. Boosts acrobatics by 5%. Grapple can be shot at enemies to finish off kills.

Melee

Stock

- Bullwhip: (ammo N/A)

Craft

- Chain: (ammo N/A)

Gives critical damage to enemies. Slows down acrobatics by 15% as a result.

- Spider net: (ammo 8)

Bounds enemies for several seconds. This also leaves the enemy vulnerable and more likely to receive critical damage.

- Roller skates: (ammo N/A)

Allows Decoy to match the speed of that of a Scout. Decoy won't be able to preform acrobatics as a result.

- Megaphone: (ammo N/A)

Amplifys Decoy's vocals and lures enemies easier.

Uncrate

- Lipstick: (ammo N/A)

Ables Decoy to give a teammate ÜberCharge for 3 seconds by kissing them. This weapon also restores a teammates health by 50%. Gives critical damage to enemies.

- Mirror: (ammo N/A)

Blinds the enemy for 3 seconds by shining light in the enemy's eyes. This weapon is most effective on Snipers.

- Ribbon wand: (ammo N/A)

Steals 15% of an enemy's ammo. Ammo can be given to other teammates or can be used personally.

- Perfume: (ammo N/A)

Amplifys Decoy's lures. Perfume can also be used to disorient enemies for several seconds. No man can resist the smell of flowers and gunpowder.

PDA

Primary

- Acrobatics

Secondary

- Vocal

Special Taunts

• Song Bird

This taunt makes enemies vision blur whenever they get to close to her singing. This makes the enemy vulnerable and more likely to receive critical hits.

• Damsel in Distress

This taunt gives Decoy the ability to make enemies hurt their own teammates. Every shot that hits a teammate will lower their health depending on distance different variables. Can only be used once every 3 minutes.

• Blowing Kisses

This taunt has the Decoy blow a kiss at the enemy. Whoever the kiss lands on receives critical damage. If the kiss lands on a teammate, it restores their health by 15%.

• Love Me, Love Me Not

This taunt has Decoy pick pedals off of a flower. If a heart appears, then the enemy walks free. If a broken heart appears then the enemy receives critical damage. This taunt gives a 50/50 chance each time it is used.

• Love Potion No.9

Can be slipped into any food or beverage. Once consumed, the enemy cannot hurt Decoy up to 10 seconds. This taunt can only be used 3 times during a match.

• Milkshake

In this taunt, Decoy pulls out a tray and proceeds to make and serve milkshakes to anyone who takes them. Decoy serves any flavor of milkshake to her teammates to boost their health level much like Heavy's Sandvich, but is far sweeter.

Achievements

• Master Maiden: Achieve over 50 'Blowing Kisses' taunt kills.

• Golden Gal: Seduce kill each class in one round.

• Lucky Lady: Dodge 5 airblasted rockets using acrobatics.

• Flirting with Death: Lure a Scout over 100 times

• Here to Save The Day: Protect a struggling teammate more than 5 times in one round.

• The Angelic Acrobat: Save a teammate over 20 times by throwing back a Demoman's grenade using acrobatics.

• Dangerous Dame: Seduce kill 500 times.

• Kiss it Better: Heal over 75 teammates using 'Blowing Kisses' taunt or by using Lipstick melee.

Domination Lines

SCOUT

"So you're the fastest man alive, huh? Is that why you can't get a date?"

"Why so red tough guy?"

"I like a guy who can make me laugh."

"Hey, my eyes are up here scooter."

"Your ass must be pretty jealous of all the shit that comes out of your mouth."

SOLDIER

"If I threw a stick, you’d leave, right?"

"Everyone’s entitled to act stupid once in awhile, but you really abuse the privilege."

"You look good with black and blue."

"Are you always such an idiot, or do you just show off when I’m around?"

"I was hoping for a battle of wits but it would be wrong to attack someone who’s totally unarmed."

PYRO

"I AM a woman, what's your excuse?"

"Still think your on fire?"

"What in the hell? What are you supposed to be?"

"Did things get really hot in here, or is it just me?"

"Earth is full. Go home."

ENGINEER

"Whoopsie, did I do that?"

"Look at the cute little toys! Can I play with one?"

"You only annoy me when you’re breathing, really."

"Your birth certificate is an apology to your parents from the hospital."

"How impressive! You can put your foot in your mouth and your head up your ass at the same time!"

HEAVY

"So... do you name your guns because you can't get a real date or?..."

"Oh wow, this must be pretty embarrassing for you."

"Are your compensating for something?"

"Jesus christ, You’re so fat you could sell shade."

"You are the human version of period cramps."

DEMOMAN

"Sorry, but you won't be able to drink away the alcoholism."

"I'm gonna hit you so hard, you'll lose your accent."

"*sad crying that turns into cruel laughter*"

"You’ll never be the man your mom is."

"Nice onesie, does it come in men's?"

"Aww, Do you need me to kiss your boo-boo better?"

MEDIC

"Excuse me nurse, could you take a look at this for me?"

"They took your license away for a reason doctor."

"Oh! I like your dress!"

"If laughter is the best medicine, your face must be curing the world."

SNIPER

"That's disgusting."

"Isn’t there a bullet somewhere you could be jumping in front of?"

"Just because you have a dick doesn’t mean you need to act like one."

"I’ve been called worse by better."

"There’s no doubt about it. Your father should have pulled out earlier."

SPY

"Is that a knife in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?"

"Hey croissant, your fly’s undone."

"If you’re going to be two-faced, at least make one of them pretty."

"Acting like a prick doesn’t make yours grow bigger."

"Je n'ai jamais pensé rencontrer un homme sans couilles."

DECOY

"You're not cute sweetheart."

"See, this is why the men don't take us seriously."

"Nice outfit. I bet if you stood on a street corner, you’d make some money."

"Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful. Hate me because your boyfriend thinks so."

"I’ve seen your kind before…but last time, I had to pay admission.

Backstory

Decoy (Delilah Lou Rose) was born April 1st, 1941 in a backstage tent and grew up as a acrobatic clown in the Canadian Circus.

She was brought to the Administrator's attention when she slaughtered a total of 12 men with ease during a break in and attempted assault. A meeting with Saxton Hale eventually led to a job offer. Needing the money, she takes a job with the Gravel wars, thinking it was a show. Once she realizes that it is in fact not a show, but a place where men kill each other, it's too late.

Delilah Lou became a new class called the Decoy, where she would lure unsuspecting men to their death. It wasn't long before she fell in love with the job and grew strong friendships with her coworkers.

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traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors · 3 years ago

Note

Seeking Advice, Support, Validation

TW: sexual assault, mentions of non-consensual sex and the word associated with it, detailed description of trauma event, mentions of death and dying, ptsd symptoms mention

Hi. I’ve sent an ask in before, and you were so kind and validating then, so I thought I’d post again.

It’s September, now. In a few days the one year anniversary of being gang raped will be here and I am not doing well. I keep having really intense flashbacks and dissociation. I space out while working, driving, interacting with others. I have extra appointments set up with my therapist and she’s assured me she’s on standby should I need her. I have trouble leaving my house. My hyper vigilance is on high alert and I know it’s gonna take time and I know it’s going to take work and I know my avoidance is not making it better.

I’d like to go into detail about the experience in this next space, so tw again…

I had met a guy on a dating app and we talked for almost two months before agreeing to meet. He seemed normal, kind, we had similar world views and interests. I was going on a short trip close to his location and offered a neutral public space to meet. He agreed and we had a good time. It was during the second wave of Covid closures and since we couldn’t eat at a restaurant I offered my hotel suite which had a kitchenette and table. While we were deciding on what to eat we ran into a friend of his and his girlfriend who I immediately got along well with and invited them all up to my room. We ate and played video games. The girlfriend had to go into work and the friend left. The guy asked if it would be ok to make out and I agreed. What I didn’t realize was that as he was leaving the friend turned the security lock outwards so that my door wouldn’t fully close and he could get back in. He returned and together they raped me. While this was absolutely awful and traumatic it was made worse by the knowledge that the friend had contacted several other men who then proceeded to enter my hotel room rape me and leave (some even returning later) over a period of about 8 hours. None of them used a condom and several finished inside me. I was hit, choked and bound several times. No one used lube. Almost everyone was masked due to Covid or at least I assume it was due to Covid but it also served as a deterrent to identifying anyone. I checked out of the hotel. Bought plan b and tried to gather myself on my own, convinced no one would believe me. When I had therapy the next day my therapist was keyed into my discomfort and eventually I told her. My therapist then took me to my ObGyn to make sure I got treated properly. Though I was pretty badly beaten up I still refused to report. My therapist was kind and understanding but I felt bad for dragging her into such a mess. Almost a month later I developed a fever of 106 and couldn’t move. I initially assumed Covid and went to the er. As it turns out I had pelvic inflammatory disease resulting from chlamydia, a uti that had spread to my kidneys and an ectopic pregnancy in which the embryo had formed over the opening of my cervix. I didn’t report while in the hospital because the er doctor was a man who told me I needed to “choose my sexual partners more wisely” and “that guys don’t like girls who sleep around”After minor surgery and three days in the hospital as well as several medications I was referred to another ObGyn who agreed with me or rather supported my decision not to report. I healed up and tried to go back to normal. I couldn’t. My PTSD returned or maybe it was altogether new, with a vengeance. Night terrors, flashbacks, panic attacks, sex repulsion, hyper vigilance, depression, anxiety, the works. I’m scared of every man I even see because I can’t be sure they weren’t there. But I can’t talk about it. Talking about it means I have to admit it happened and it’s not only so shame inducing but I feel absolutely stupid for any choices I made that led to it in the first place. End of graphic description of trauma… safe to read on with original tw in place

AND now my grandfather is in the hospital with an infection in his heart. He is old and was previously doing chemotherapy and his body is just not able to fight it. The doctors have given him days at most.

So my problem is, it seems really selfish and wrong of me to dwell on my trauma when he is going to die. Like at least I am alive and in decent health right? My family is relying on me to take some responsibility for some things while my father is by his dads bedside. And my parents take care of my moms mom so I have picked up any slack there too. I have always been a person who busies themself through grief. But coupled with my spaceiness and dissociation I’m letting them all down. I forgot to give my grandmother one of her medications. I left the dog door open overnight. I didn’t clean up after my grandmothers dinner properly and the dogs got into the trash. I know it seems like little things but I feel like a failure of a human. My family doesn’t know what happened last year. I don’t think they’d take it well and they were never really supportive in the past, claiming my trauma made them uncomfortable and I should reserve it for my therapist. And anyway it seems almost wrong (?) to say “yes I know your dad is dying but I’m dealing with intense ptsd so sorry I can’t help you.” So I just don’t know what to do. I just feel terrible all around. This is the first time I’ve been able to really go through the experience and put it down in words so thank you at the very least for that. I’m sorry it’s so long I’m just really lost and your blog is so validating so thank you. -FK

Hi anon,

I am glad that you felt like you could write into us again. I am so sorry for all you’re dealing with. Traumaversaries can be so difficult. I am really glad that you have a therapist that is in your corner and my first piece of advice is to take her up on the offer of being on standby if you need her. I also want to say that I am really proud of you for talking to her about this enough that you have extra appointments and that set up. I know it can be so hard but your comfort is important. What you’re going through is a lot and you deserve support.

It’s reasonable you don’t want to tell your family, especially given how they’ve reacted in the past. It seems hard to balance and I’m so sorry for that. But I do want to tell you that you are not being selfish. You are going through a lot of trauma, and the triggering aspect of the anniversary is a really valid really to be having a hard time. It would be valid even without that trigger looming over you.

I am so glad you had your therapist with you when this all happened and I am beyond angry on your behalf at that doctor who said those things to you. I really don’t think people like him should have doctor’s licenses, and you did not deserve to be treated that way.

It’s really valid that you aren’t ready to talk about it. Please don’t force yourself because it can be re-traumatizing to talk about it before you’re ready. Having a therapist for this is really good, but for some, it helps to have support of others that are validating. For this, I recommend trying to reach out to a trauma support group whether that’s online or in person. A good one won’t force you to talk about things before you’re ready but having the validation that this support group may give can be so helpful. A lot of times, people that have been through similar will have suggestions and tips that can be helpful too. But for me, it’s the feeling that I’m not alone.

And I do want to say that to you. You are not alone. I know I’m just some random stranger on the internet, but I am here and I believe you and my thoughts are with you.

You are not a failure of a human. I promise you that. You are human and you have a lot that you are trying to cope with right now and it’s beyond understandable that you are struggling.

I also want to say that I am proud of you for putting it into words because that is an amazing step in the direction of talking about it. One of my questions/suggestions for you, is does your therapist know the whole story? If not, is writing it out for her like you did for us here a possibility? Even to copy and paste this ask and show it to her? Her having as much information as possible might allow her to help you more. If you aren’t ready for that, that’s okay. It’s really just a suggestion.

I believe in you, anon. And you and your feelings are valid. I can promise you that.

April

#mod April #trauma talks #tw r #tw sa #sa #trauma details #death #dying #tw death #ptsd #fk

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curiouserandthatmuchcuriouser · 4 years ago

Text

I don't talk a lot about this on social media, but two years ago I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. Next month is Bipolar Awareness Month, and even though it's not here quite yet, I'd like to share my story. We all fight secret battles, and the first step to breaking the stigma of mental illness is starting a dialogue and finding compassion for others as well as ourselves.

Around December 2018, I started feeling... different than I normally do. I didn't understand what was happening at the time: I'd never had so much energy before, and at first it was exhilarating. I was running around, talking a mile a minute, suddenly completely free of the social anxiety that's plagued me my entire life, completing chores & errands in record time, and feeling on top of the world. My mind was overflowing with creativity, ideas for poems and essays and songs and even a full musical of my own design (in hindsight, it's all nonsense of course). My appetite slipped away and I suddenly felt free from the constraints of sleep, even though I'd never been more productive. I barely ate or slept, but I wasn't hungry or tired. I lost so much weight and I barely noticed.

At the same time, my moods were swinging all over the place -- I was irritable, I was ecstatic, I was angry, I was morose, I was playful, I was paranoid. I was charismatic, I was churlish, I was ambitious, I was friendly, I was sullen. I was crazy. Naturally I was too busy with my newfound productivity and "creative genius" (lol) to even notice the mood swings. I was an artist! With an artist's temperament! And there was so much to write! I started carrying around yellow sticky notepads in my pockets so I could write down my "brilliant" epiphanies (hint: it was more nonsense) wherever I went. I filled them up within days. My handwriting changed, became sloppier, messier. So many thoughts, I couldn't get them down fast enough.

My thought process, my inner monologue, became fast, then rapid, then downright muddled. It was like a movie playing at warp speed in my head, all day, every day, and most of the night too because who needed sleep when there was so much to think about? I developed a horrible sense of grandiosity. It was my newfound purpose in life to help people, personal cost be damned. I gave the coat off my back to a homeless man begging for change at the dollar store. I impulsively blew through what little savings I had on… I don't even know what. On useless crap that I didn't need.

Paranoia overtook my psyche. I was certain that some of my friends were conspiring against me in various ways, and I wouldn't (couldn't) shut up about it to anyone who would listen. I was suspicious of the world at large. I started walking around with a knife tucked into my boot (thankfully I never used it). I drove too fast, recklessly, getting lost on familiar streets (that's not poetic license, I actually found myself getting disoriented in familiar neighborhoods and needing the GPS to find my way home). I was crying while driving, sobbing and squinting at the cars ahead of me. Everything I experienced was fast and bright and sharp in the most confusing ways.

I still thought I was invincible. I was not invincible. In fact, I was 24 years old and I was experiencing my first manic episode, and it ended up being the scariest period of my life thus far.

I couldn't focus on my job anymore, a job that I loved, a job that I had worked hard to get. I would sit down to read an email and the words would swim before my eyes like a school of fish. If I tried typing anything, at least half the words would be misspelled and I'd have to start over. I wasn't getting any work done, not really. I couldn't sit still. I started pacing around the office every chance I could get and taking long walks at night in the winter chill (which I barely felt). I was feverish with mania. I was aggravated by random things and I would lash out at random people, even family and friends (perhaps especially family and friends). No one understood what I was going through, least of all myself.

Finally -- I don't even remember how I realized something was off since I was so far gone at that point -- a lightbulb went on in my head amidst the chaotic movie screen of jumbled thoughts and I realized: I'm not usually like this. I feel... sick. And when a quick Google search of my symptoms suggested "bipolar disorder," I knew I had to get help. One thing led to another, and in January 2019, I ended up moving back into my mom's house and taking medical leave from my job, the job that I loved, to do outpatient group therapy five times a week for several weeks at a nearby hospital… only to quit that job, the job that I loved, almost immediately upon returning to it because I didn't realize beforehand just how long it would take for me to recover.

I was so ashamed about quitting that job, and I still carry some of that shame around to this day, but the circumstances were completely untenable. I was on three different kinds of antipsychotics, which were expensive and caused me to gain close to 100 lbs during the time I was on them. The other side effects of those meds, like the drowsiness and the brain fog, were awful. After five-times-a-week group therapy, I graduated to once-a-week individual therapy (so proud, I know). It took me weeks to regain the ability to read more than a paragraph at a time, which was torture for me, an English major and avid reader. Television became a crutch, an easy way to pass the restless hours. I slept as much as possible during the day because I was so deeply ashamed of how far I'd fallen.

Eventually, I did recover. Considering the state I was in, I am *exceptionally lucky* and I think about that everyday. The meds, the therapy, and time did their job and helped me get back to myself. I still occasionally struggle with symptoms of depression and mania, and I always will. I'll never be the person I was before my diagnosis, but that's okay. I know who I am now, even the dark parts, and I know how to take care of all of me. That's the most important piece of the puzzle: self-awareness and self-care in equal measure.

Looking back, it truly feels like a different person inhabited my body during those awful months. An insane person, one I'd be embarrassed to know, let alone be. My brain became a snapping turtle, and no one was safe. I lost friends, people I trusted who just couldn't see past the actions and harsh words that my illness caused, even after I sought treatment and tried to make amends via heartfelt apology letters and frantic explanations. There is a fine line between accountability for past mistakes and reckoning with mental illness, and in some ways I still feel like I'm walking that line. But at least now I know I can let go some of that shame.

I am forever grateful to my wonderful network of family, friends, and mental health professionals who supported me every step of the way and saw me through to the other side. I love you. I wouldn't be myself without you. Thank you.

If you or someone you love struggle with mental illness, don't try to sweep it under the rug. Know the signs, and seek treatment. Help is available. Getting better is possible.

We all fight secret battles. Let's lead with compassion.

#bipolar disorder #bipolar #bipolar awareness #bipolar awareness month #bipolar girl #mental illness #mental health #it gets better

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