crows use tools and like to slide down snowy hills. today we saw a goose with a hurt foot who was kept safe by his flock - before taking off, they waited for him to catch up. there are colors only butterflies see. reindeer are matriarchical. cows have best friends and 4 stomachs and like jazz music. i watched a video recently of an octopus making himself a door out of a coconut shell.
i am a little soft, okay. but sometimes i can't talk either. the world is like fractal light to me, and passes through my skin in tendrils. i feel certain small things like a catapult; i skirt around the big things and somehow arrive in crisis without ever realizing i'm in pain.
in 5th grade we read The Curious Incident of the Dog In The Night-time, which is about a young autistic boy. it is how they introduced us to empathy about neurotypes, which was well-timed: around 10 years old was when i started having my life fully ruined by symptoms. people started noticing.
i wonder if birds can tell if another bird is odd. like the phrase odd duck. i have to believe that all odd ducks are still very much loved by the other normal ducks. i have to believe that, or i will cry.
i remember my 5th grade teacher holding the curious incident up, dazzled by the language written by someone who is neurotypical. my teacher said: "sometimes i want to cut open their mind to know exactly how autistics are thinking. it's just so different! they must see the world so strangely!" later, at 22, in my education classes, we were taught to say a person with autism or a person on the spectrum or neurodivergent. i actually personally kind of like person-first language - it implies the other person is trying to protect me from myself. i know they had to teach themselves that pattern of speech, is all, and it shows they're at least trying. and i was a person first, even if i wasn't good at it.
plants learn information. they must encode data somehow, but where would they store it? when you cut open a sapling, you cannot find the how they think - if they "think" at all. they learn, but do not think. i want to paint that process - i think it would be mostly purple and blue.
the book was not about me, it was about a young boy. his life was patterned into a different set of categories. he did not cry about the tag on his shirt. i remember reading it and saying to myself: i am wrong, and broken, but it isn't in this way. something else is wrong with me instead. later, in that same person-first education class, my teacher would bring up the curious incident and mention that it is now widely panned as being inaccurate and stereotypical. she frowned and said we might not know how a person with autism thinks, but it is unlikely to be expressed in that way. this book was written with the best intentions by a special-ed teacher, but there's some debate as to if somebody who was on the spectrum would be even able to write something like this.
we might not understand it, but crows and ravens have developed their own language. this is also true of whales, dolphins, and many other species. i do not know how a crow thinks, but we do know they can problem solve. (is "thinking" equal to "problem solving"? or is "thinking" data processing? data management?) i do not know how my dog thinks, either, but we "talk" all the same - i know what he is asking for, even if he only asks once.
i am not a dolphin or reindeer or a dog in the nighttime, but i am an odd duck. in the ugly duckling, she grows up and comes home and is beautiful and finds her soulmate. all that ugliness she experienced lives in downy feathers inside of her, staining everything a muted grey. she is beautiful eventually, though, so she is loved. they do not want to cut her open to see how she thinks.
a while ago i got into an argument with a classmate about that weird sia music video about autism. my classmate said she thought it was good to raise awareness. i told her they should have just hired someone else to do it. she said it's not fair to an autistic person to expect them to be able to handle that kind of a thing.
today i saw a goose, and he was limping. i want to be loved like a flock loves a wounded creature: the phrase taken under a wing. which is to say i have always known i am not normal. desperate, mewling - i want to be loved beyond words.
loved beyond thinking.
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cw: babies!!!! you’re also referred to as “ma” once
okay but like,,,,,first time dad Bakugou giving his baby their first bath after coming home!!! you’re fluttering around the kitchen, trying to make sure you have your daughters towel ready, her baby safe soap, a tiny washcloth, that her teeny tiny pajamas are in the dryer.
it’s only when you take a second to ask Bakugou something do you finally just—pause. your gaze instantly softens, a lovesick smile inching on your face as you watch your big buff pro hero husband hunch over the kitchen sink.
your daughter is resting in the baby bath seat, lilac colored and reclined back. she squirms when Bakugou lets the warm water run over her naked, fat little belly. her face scrunches at the new sensation, fists balling up against her chest. he coos at her, gentle,
“I know, ya little princess. Feels weird on ya, doesn’t it?” he asks her, voice so small under the running water. he cups his hand, holds a handful of water, tilts her fat cheek up to let it slide in her neck rolls that always smell like milk. she whines at that, sniffles and hiccups before she cries. you go to take a step forward, to console her, but Bakugou is so patient.
“It’s alright,” he kisses her tears away. “Daddy’s just tryna help you.” he runs the water all over her body, and paired with his softly spoken words, does she finally quiet after a few seconds. her little body trembles with the aftermath, pouty lips puffy and he can’t help but smooth his hand over the softness of her face.
“Yer a crybaby, just like your ma.” he whispers to her, grinning when that breaks you out of your stupor to smack him on the shoulder. you both laugh at that, and you finally feel the peace that is your little family. you lean against Bakugou’s shoulder, pressing a kiss to his jaw before looking at your daughter again.
“You’re gonna be a great dad,” you mumble into his skin. he doesn’t say anything, but you can feel his shuddering breath, and the calmness that blankets the rest of your house.
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TGCF Vol 3 (eng), Chp. 43 - 44 (First "Kiss") Part 1 / 5 (next >)
First part of the comic is finally done! I chose this scene because I know the donghua/manhua will almost certainly censor it and also I feel like there's a lot of beautiful but also inaccurate depictions of this kiss and I just wanna do the full scene justice, including Xie Lian's reaction on the beach. I'm trying to stay as close to the novel as possible but some dialogue will be slightly altered to fit the flow of the comic. I should have planned it to be more vertically oriented to fit tumblr better but hell I don't actually know anything about making comics.
CW for those who don't know where this is going: The next part of this comic includes relatively non-consensual kissing. The purpose is the exchange of air & to keep the smoke spirit from entering, but Xie Lian does struggle against it in the beginning. If this might trigger or upset you, don't read any further.
A direct novel excerpt of this scene is under the cut.
[comic panel numbers]
[1] It didn't take long before his throat itched, and that cloud of black smoke was retched back out! [2] Xie Lian covered his mouth with his sleeve, coughing nonstop and choked by tears. [3] His mind raced to find another countermeasure. Even after the cloud of black smoke was forcibly vomited out, it still swirled about and relentlessly clung to his body. [4] Xie Lian pushed himself onto the windowsill, raised himself up, and leapt into the lake outside.
[5, 6] With a splash, Xie Lian plunged deep into the heart of the lake. [7] He held his breath, crossed his arms and legs, and assumed a meditative position, letting his body slowly sink to the bottom of that freezing lake. Once his heartbeat returned to normal, he looked up and could somewhat make out the black fog swirling above, blocking off the surface of the water. [8] Once he emerged, he'd have to gasp in a deep breath, and in doing so, he would surely suck the child spirit into his stomach. [9] A grown man with a fulsome baby bump wasn't the least bit funny to imagine.
[10] However, his leap into the water had only been meant to give himself some time to think. It didn't take long for Xie Lian to come up with a counterattack.
[11] So what if I swallow it? I'll just swallow Fangxin right after.
[12] He'd learned that trick when performing on the streets. [13] Although it might hurt, whatever -- as long as the child spirit could be captured.
[14] With his mind thus made up, Xie Lian released his arms and started swimming upward. [15, 16] A muffled sound of sloshing water came from above, and suddenly a vast expanse of burning, vivid crimson red flooded his vision. [17] A tangle of winding raven-black locks obscured his sight, though nothing could be seen through the splashing water and schools of air bubbles.
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Steddie Upside-down AU Part 25
Part 1 Part 24
“You mean blood draws this thing?” Hopper asks. He’s finally seated at the table, no longer looming over Eddie where he sits, like he’s just picked him up for possession and taken him in for questioning. Again.
“We don’t know,” Barbara says. Nancy chimes in, “it’s just a theory.” All three of them ignore Eddie’s shouted “Yes!” As if he isn’t the only one that’s seen the thing more than once.
Hopper steeples his fingers in front of his nose, looking like he’d rather be almost anywhere else. Eddie can’t blame him. He also wants Hopper to be anywhere else.
“We’ve got a plan,” Nancy says. “To test the theory.”
Hopper sighs, closing his eyes and pinching his brows, the same way he does when he catches Eddie selling pot outside of the high school. Or at the trailer park. Or at parties. “Let’s hear it then.” He doesn’t open his eyes. Nancy starts speaking anyway.
Eddie, having been mostly absent last time, tunes in for the conversation. She wants to jerry rig the house with bear traps. Like they’re in the Looney Tunes and she’s trying to catch the road runner. Hopper doesn’t seem all that impressed. Neither does Wayne.
“No,” Wayne says.
Hopper still hasn’t opened his eyes. Maybe he was so shocked by the slap dash plan that he gave up and went to sleep.
“Excuse me?” Nancy says.
Eddie bristles at her tone, but Wayne doesn’t even twitch. “You’re kids,” he says, like that’s all there is to say.
“But, Steve –”
Joyce jumps up from where she was still huddled with her sons to tower over the table in all her five foot nothing furry to shout, “this is not yours to fix!” It works to shut them all up. “It’s not you kid’s responsibility to save another kid.”
“But, Mom,” Will says.
Eddie wants to echo the sentiment. Wants to beg. Steve saved their lives, and they’d left him. She wants them to just leave him there? Again? “I know, baby. We’ll get him.”
“Anyone called the boy’s parents?” Wayne asks, but it comes out barely as a question. He already knows the answer, even before Hopper scoffs. Everyone at this table does.
“Like anyone even knows what country they’re in,” he replies while Joyce bristles, like the thought of anyone’s child being left like that leaves her seething.
“Enough of that,” she says, waving her ends in a cutting motion in front of her. “How are we going to get that boy back?”
Will stands up and storms out of the room. Eddie’s never seen the kid be anything but polite. Eddie stands to follow the tug at his sternum telling him to keep the kid in his line of sight.
“Will?” Joyce calls, trying to follow as well until Jonathan tugs her back by her arm with a quiet murmur he can’t make out.
The house isn’t large. He can hear the silence reverberating as he follows Will. The best plan they have so far is Nancy’s game of mouse trap. If it means saving Steve, Eddie’s ready to form an alliance with the devil he knows. If it means saving Steve, he’d be willing to do worse.
“I could go back to the lab,” Hopper says, voice barely carrying down the hallway.
Will’s sitting on a bed when Eddie finds him. It’s small with a blue comforter on it, covered in little cartoon planes. There’s a poster of Jaws on the wall, D & D minis on a bookcase. This might be the coolest kid alive.
Eddie takes a seat beside him, the mattress squeaking as he huddles into it.
Will’s hand is dangling between his knees, cradling a walkie talkie. He doesn’t look over at Eddie, just keeps staring at it like it’ll crackle to life at any second.
“Whatcha got there?” Eddie asks quietly as voices raise in the other room. Eddie wonders if this is what it would’ve felt if he’d had a baby brother back when voices were always raised in his house. He wants to scoop this kid up and bolt out the window.
Will barely seems to notice the noise. He’s still just staring down. When he finally drags his eyes up, it seems like it takes effort. “I want to call Mike.”
“Okay,” Eddie says. “Who is Mike?”
Will’s eyes shift back down. “He’s my Steve.”
Well, Eddie has no idea what that means, but he can glean some things: Mike is important, and Will wants to talk to him. “So, call him.”
Will’s shoulders curl in. He cradles the walkie talkie to his chest like it’s a baby. “He thinks I’m dead.” It comes out of his mouth bitter.
Eddie reaches out, clasps his shoulder gently. “Then, I bet he’d love to hear that you’re not.”
Slow as molasses, Will raises the walkie talkie up to his mouth, holds down a button and speaks. “Mike?” he asks. “Do you copy?”
He decompresses the button. The silence trickles back in as they both now stare at the walkie talkie, waiting for something to happen. “Maybe he didn’t hear yo–” Eddie starts to say, conjuling, when a frantic, prepubescent voice crackles through the little speaker.
“Will?!” A voice asks, overlapped by another saying , “–didn’t say over, Mike!” before the fuzzy sound stops abruptly.
Will waits a second before pushing the button again, and speaking, “I’m here, over.”
“Where are you?” presumably Mike asks. “We’ll come get you!”
Will smiles, eyes brimming. “It’s okay,” he says, voice lighter than Eddie’s ever heard it. “I’m home.”
The silence lasts longer now, until a new voice filters through. “Yeah, yeah, I’m glad you’re back, Will,” attitude dripping even over the static of the line. “Now, the bad men have got us pinned down, you gotta help us.” it says, before tacking on a quick, “over.”
“Bad men?” Eddie asks, looking over at Will, hoping this is some ill-timed inner-circle game.
But Will looks confused. Panicked. “I think we should go get Chief Hopper.” Will says.
Great. Another fucking problem. Eddie regrets ever being dragged back through that goddamn hole in the tree.
Part 26
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