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signed-sapphire · 2 months

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The Fallen Star ✨

A Wish rewrite

Cielo design 💛

The boy is here! The most ever! The Fallen Star’s very own Starboy!

So I lied and don’t have the finalized designs for King Maggie or Queen Ams yet soooooo *throws confetti at you* take this Starboy reimagining in the meantime!

Eugh boy the name gave me trouble. I didn’t want to use Aster since that’s the name of a a couple popular Starboys already (@annymation/@gracebeth3604/ @mythartist21) and while the Greek name is cool, I wanted something a bit different.

SEE-EH-LO, for anyone wondering. He/they pronouns <3

I was heavily considering choosing Estrella and making Starboy a Stargirl, and then we’d have a gay romance. But this is supposed to be SOMEWHAT of a homage to early Disney. This may not be KoW, but… idk. Cielo is a gender neutral name. Literal manifestation of light. Go ahead and draw them as a female-presenting figure and it’s still TFS!canon~

Aaaaaaanyways. Here’s the actual rewrite!

First of all! Cielo is NOT the Northern Star! He’s a baby star like… in the bottom right

However, the Northern Star? Evangeline? Yeah, she’s gonna be in my rewrite

But Cielo is NOT her

For now I’ll just say Evangeline is sort of a mentor-figure to Cielo and leave it at that

So not all stars are wishing stars, and similar to Kingdom of Wishes, a wishing star is born when first wished upon

Once a wishing star fulfills their first wish, they become Stars (capital S), and are free to help anyone that needs it

The more wishes a Star fulfills, the more powerful they become

Idk maybe it’s like a Rise of the Guardians thing, where the more people that believe, the stronger your magic is

Sparkles and hope and glitter and shit

Until, as explained in my rewrite… the Stars grew bored and started simply granting wishes

Then people grew lazy and started demanding wishes

And all this belief made the Stars go overpowered

Basically it became Wonderland, everything coming true, kingdoms burning and villages destroyed

Yeah. So Magnus god rid of them eventually

Though who would suspect that it would be the king’s own daughter that would bring back his greatest fear?

Yep, Asha brought Cielo down

Not purposely, but even if she had done it purposely, she wouldn’t have chosen Cielo

He’s a little baby, a dwarf star maybe

Only ever gotten one wish in his life…

Huh never seen that before *side eyes KoW*

Personality traits

Optimistic

Very Anna-coded

Probably ADHD tbh (autism x adhd duo unite)

Stubborn

HE’S the quirky Disney princess

Although more Flynn than Raps

Backstory

Fuck around and find out

(And by fuck around I mean wait for my rewrite to come out bc I haven’t slept in two days and I’m too tired to articulate their story accurately)

Design

Due to popular demand, Cielo now has the Charlie Morningstar cheek thingies

Also @gracebethartacc got an ask about canon!Star being marketed with a star over their right eye so… vitiligo mark, anyone?

Yeah I don’t have many colored refs but basically Cielo’s star eye mark and cheek thingies turn into vitiligo marks when in their “human form”

Uh take this

Ye sort of like this^

Heart shaped face! His part is also supposed to resemble a “V” shape to make the top of the heart

My sister said they looked like Viva and I’m crying but too late to take it back

I guess they’re both Spanish? Ajdjajhsjajajs

Thin slutty waist. Imagine Lucifer from Hazbin Hotel bc Jeremy Jordan is Yes.

Like I’m obsessed with that wet cat of a character I’m thinking about Cielo’s voice being Jeremy

Although his younger VA days as like Varian would better suit Cielo…

ANYWAYS

Design by @mythartist21 save for the Trolls hair and cheek thingies! Those were my additions

Uhhh pointy ears, poofy sleeves

Idk is the star eye mark AND the cheek thingies too busy? Lmk and I’ll try to post a colored ref of that helps

#asha #disney wish #princess asha #asha x star #star x asha #the fallen star au #wish 2023 #human star #starsha #saph doodles #wish reimagined #wish disney #wish star #wish #star wish #wish concept art

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let-the-dream-begin · 4 years

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In My Daughter’s Eyes

"In my daughter's eyes, I am a hero. I am strong and wise, and I know no fear. But the truth is plain to see: she was sent to rescue me. I see who I want to be. In my daughter's eyes...And when she wraps her hand around my finger, how it puts a smile in my heart. Everything becomes a little clearer; I realize what life is all about. It's hanging on when your heart has had enough. It's giving more when you feel like giving up I've seen the light: It's in my daughter's eyes."

Claire’s husband has abandoned her and their daughter, Faith, because he is unable to handle her diagnosis of nonverbal autism. In order to start a new life, Claire has taken Faith to New York. Desperate for some kind of breakthrough in Faith’s treatment, she decides to try horse therapy, where she meets Jamie Fraser, Faith’s assigned hippotherapist. Claire is overwhelmed and touched by Jamie’s dedication to his work, and his particular dedication to her daughter.

Chapter 1: Four Incidents

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Claire’s nerves were positively shot. The past ten or so hours had been hell for her poor daughter, and, subsequently, for her as well. The first incident had arisen from the fact that four-year-old Faith had never been in such a crowded setting before. Immediately upon stepping through the doors of the airport and seeing the bustling hoards of people, she had begun yanking on her mother’s hand, digging her stubborn heels into the tile, and screaming her head off. Claire had come prepared; she had her noise-canceling headphones for the flight, but she hadn’t anticipated needing them for the airport itself. In actuality, it wasn’t really that loud, and so this tantrum had her absolutely dreading the upcoming flight.

Claire was used to the stares, the disapproval, the tuts of sympathy. She’d even heard her fair share of blatant, verbal criticism of her parenting. So, she let that roll off her back. What she wasn’t used to was Airport Police coming up to her and questioning what her intentions were with her own child. She’d had to stammer to them while her face and neck flushed red, tears of embarrassment stinging her eyes.

“Yes, I am her mother—You don’t understand; she has autism. She’s never been somewhere so crowded before. She’s just overwhelmed.”

Have you never bloody seen a child throw a tantrum before?

Well, perhaps they had, but they certainly hadn’t been privy to a Faith tantrum.

Panic began clenching her gut, remembering the time she’d been asked to leave a grocery store because Faith had wet herself, then proceeded to roll around on the floor, inconsolable. That had been the worst one to date.

This one was quickly rivaling it, however.

They asked her to provide proof that Faith was her child; proof that she was not kidnapping her.

“I can’t let go of her hand—please, she’ll run outside and right into traffic.”

“I’ll hold onto her, ma’am.”

“No—”

It was too late. The man put a hand on Faith’s shoulder, and all hell broke loose. Claire had to tighten her grip on her hand to the point of her knuckles whitening. If Faith was screaming before, now she was howling. The Airport Police were in a frenzy; they had no idea what to do.

“Faith! Darling, please, it’s alright.”

Claire let their suitcases go, dropped her purse and fell to her knees to wrap her arms around Faith’s middle from behind. It wasn’t long before a little fist collided with her lip. At some point in the proceedings, Claire had managed to say: “Look for our passports your fucking self if you really must have proof that she’s mine.”

They did.

“Faith! Faith Julia Randall, if you don’t stop this right now, there will be no dessert tonight.”

Another loud wail.

“Do you hear me? I’m going to count to ten, Faith. By ten, if you are not quiet, no dessert.”

Another cry.

“One. Two.”

Claire tasted blood in her mouth. Seemed that her daughter had given her another fat lip.

“Three. Four.”

By some bloody miracle, her thrashing was finally starting to calm.

“Five. Six.”

The screaming stopped.

“Seven. Eight.”

Faith’s full bodyweight collapsed into Claire, and Claire let out a sigh of relief. “Okay. There you go. Good girl…good girl.”

She rocked her gently, kissed her head. “Good girl, Faith. It’s alright now.”

The Airport Police were still standing there, stunned into silence.

“Uh…ma’am…your lip is bleeding.”

“I’m aware, thank you,” Claire snapped before returning her attention to Faith. “Shh…it’s alright…”

“I’m, uh…sorry for making it worse, ma’am,” the other officer said softly. “Would, uh…this help?”

He held something down to her, pointedly reaching for Claire and not Faith. Claire looked up to see him holding out a set of little plastic wings, clearly some “junior assistant pilot” badge they occasionally gave out to children.

“It might. Thank you.”

“I’m Officer Hansen, ma’am. Is there anything else we can do for you?”

“Just…just watch my bags until I’ve gotten her calm. Thank you.”

He nodded.

“Hey…Faithie…” Claire crooned, stroking her tear soaked cheek. “Look what Mummy has.” She held the little wings in her palm in front of Faith’s eyes. “Do you want to be a pilot, Faith? What about that?”

Hiccuping and coughing through her tears, she reached out for the wings and held them in her hands, examining them closely.

“Do you like it?”

Faith nodded ever-so-slightly.

“Shall we put it on?” She gently turned Faith around and took the pin in her hand, fastening it to a belt loop. Faith did not wear pins or wristbands in a conventional manner. The feeling of something poking her skin through her shirt or something rubbing her wrist caused her sensory overload, so the belt loop is where such things ended up.

“Good girl.”

Claire took her hand and made to stand up, but Faith uttered an indignant noise that froze her in her spot. She sighed in surrender.

“I’m afraid she’s going to make me carry her, or else we’ll all be privy to another tantrum…” Claire said, scooping her up and settling her on her hip. “Could you…would it be terribly inconvenient if you were to help with our luggage?”

“We’re police, ma’am, not busboys — ”

“I’d be happy to help, ma’am.” Officer Hansen cut the other officer off.

“Thank you, thank you so much.” Claire practically burst into tears, overwhelmed with gratefulness.

She’d underestimated how difficult it would be to travel with a child as special as Faith alone.

Claire shook her head. She didn’t want to think about Frank right now.

Keeping Faith calm by making criss-cross patterns on her back with her fingertips and making a rushing “shh” noise in her ear for white noise, Claire and the officer made their way to the check-in counter. He handled her purse,credit card, and ID as well, and Claire could have gotten on her knees and kissed his feet. She could tell he was genuinely sorry for what had happened as a result of his and his partner’s ignorance, and he was determined to see that they got on their flight in one piece.

He also got them through pre-check, using his privileges to escort them through the faster line. Once they were through, he handed her back her purse and Faith’s carry-on Frozen backpack.

“I’ve put the boarding passes at the top so you can get to them easier. In case you never get to put her down.” He smiled apologetically. “I really am sorry — ”

“Please, it’s alright,” Claire said. “I really, really appreciate all you’ve done for us. You have no idea how hard it is to do this…”

“Alone,” he finished for her.

“Yeah.” Claire nodded.

“If there’s anything else you need, you can ask anybody with a walkie-talkie to page Officer Hansen. Alright?”

She smiled warmly. “Thank you. Truly.”

He nodded curtly and then went off.

The second incident had arisen when they’d come across a kiosk selling mini cereal boxes, and Faith’s eye had been caught by a box of Fruit-Loops that had Elsa on it. Claire had been loath to buy more cereal, being that she already had plain cheerios in Faith’s carry-on that had been much cheaper than the robbery for which the Fruit Loops were selling. She tried to resist, but fearing prompting another tantrum, she yielded. She bought the box and stealthily managed to switch the bag of Fruit Loops inside the box with the bag of Cheerios, knowing full well that the sugar content of the Fruit Loops would make the upcoming flight unbearable.

So there they sat, waiting at the terminal, Faith kicking her legs and bouncing while clutching her tablet, watching Frozen with her noise-cancelling headphones on with Claire occasionally popping a Cheerio into her open mouth.

The third incident had arisen when it was time to board and Claire tried to put Faith’s pink sequined sleep-mask over her eyes to prevent her from seeing how close-quarters the aircraft was. She’d immediately moaned in protest, unwilling to tear her eyes away from the movie. Claire knew she was taking a leap of faith (and she laughed to herself at the pun), but with bated breath she allowed Faith to simply walk onto the boarding bridge with her nose stuck in her tablet.

Before long, she was seated and buckled, tablet in her lap, her eyes never having left the screen.

It bloody worked.

Claire could have cried with relief.

Claire had to plead with the stewardess to convince her that Faith’s tablet was not a “large electronic device,” and the stewardess had conceded; as long as it stayed in her lap and the tray remained in the upright position, Faith could keep watching her movie.

The fourth incident, of course, occurred when the plane started to take off. Even with noise-cancelling headphones, the rushing mechanical noise and the feeling of the vibration everywhere was too much for her. She clamped her hands over her headphones, and she immediately began squirming, trying to unbuckle her seatbelt. Then, of course, the sensation of the take-off itself did not help at all. Claire had given herself a pep-talk every morning leading up to this flight for weeks: “It’s not your fault. The people judging you have no idea what you deal with every day. You can’t help her sensory overload. Ignore them.”

But she still couldn’t help the rush of embarrassed heat on her neck as the familiar side-eyes and conspicuous whispers began.

After literally clamping her hands down on Faith’s shoulders to keep her seated for about an hour, Faith finally became engrossed in the movie again. Claire had also prepared in that she knew getting Faith to use the bathroom on the aircraft would be a disaster. Since being potty-trained was still relatively new--even though she was four, potty-training an autistic child was a whole different animal--Claire had put a fresh pull-up on her right before they boarded to prevent as many trips as possible.

Finally, ten or so hours since the initial meltdown, Claire was standing at baggage claim, holding her sleeping daughter. She’d fallen asleep with about two hours left in the flight and slept straight through the descent and the landing, thank God. Claire had never been particularly religious, but she’d had the urge to cross herself upon realizing she’d be avoiding a fifth incident.

When the blaring alarm sounded, signaling that the baggage claim carousel was beginning, Faith jolted awake in her arms.

Fuck.

She began wailing again, clamping her hands over the headphones.

Do those bloody things cancel any noise?

Admittedly, it could have been worse. It seemed that she was just alarmed to be woken so suddenly, because, after about twenty seconds, she was calm again. Claire had to put her down to collect their baggage, and she struggled greatly to get the suitcase off the moving carousel with one hand. Letting go of Faith’s hand was simply not an option.

She was eternally grateful, then, to the stranger who helped her with both bags.

Bloody ironic that you’ve met two strange men today that have done more for you and your daughter than her own father.

Pushing that dark thought aside once more, Claire made her way to the taxi pick up area and strapped Faith into the rental car seat. Their 11:20 departure from Heathrow International had landed them at MacArthur Airport at 2:07 on the dot. After a seven hour and forty-five minute flight, there was only a twenty-two minute taxi drive and then they’d finally be in their new home: an apartment complex only a few miles away from Stony Brook University Hospital, where Claire would be doing her residency.

She’d never particularly imagined herself living in (or on, as they say here) Long Island of all places. After her unconventional and rather rugged upbringing, thinking of herself living in suburbia, only about an hour from those Hamptons she’d heard so much about, was enough to make her chuckle to herself. Gillian had assured her that the entire island wasn’t like the stereotype she’d imagined, which had slightly put her mind at ease. That wasn’t what had drawn her there, of course.

She’d been drawn to the area by a great many things. She wanted to be away from the cluttered, cramped feeling of Europe; away from Frank, quite honestly, as far as possible. She didn’t want to be in a city; she knew the noise would be far too much for Faith. The quiet suburbs of Long Island seemed to fit, and she’d heard excellent things about Stony Brook. Lastly, and most importantly were the amazing things she’d heard about equine therapy for special needs children. There were such places in England, but none had as many glowing reviews as the one that was only an eighteen minute drive from their new home: Harmony Stables.

Faith had always had an affinity for animals, and Claire felt guilty that she couldn’t commit to taking care of a dog so that she could have a service dog. It wasn’t the finances, per se, just the thought of having two lives to look after on her own was an overwhelming thought. Perhaps someday when they were settled. Faith’s psychiatrist in Oxfordshire had suggested some sort of animal therapy, and she spoke of the wonders equine therapy had done for a previous patient. At this point, Claire would try anything. Anything to calm the horrible anxiety that she knew plagued her daughter every second of any given day. The Risperdal was not doing much on its own. As much as the meltdowns fried Claire’s nerves and caused her much embarrassment, she was certain they fried Faith’s nerves about ten times as much. If learning to ride and forming a connection with a horse could take away even a fraction of that crippling anxiety, Claire would pay any amount of money to make that happen.

She’d also, of course, done research regarding her education. She was aware of the specific needs of her non-verbal autistic daughter; knew she needed to learn to communicate, either find someone to coax words out of her or learn sign language, knew she needed to learn how to read and how to behave in a public setting. She’d already made arrangements for a private tutor to come to the house like she’d done in Oxfordshire. She’d been in contact with a Mrs. Lickett, a lovely woman. Together, they would decide if Faith would be ready for a special needs kindergarten class come next fall, or if they should wait another year. Mrs. Lickett had assured her that it was common for children like Faith to continue with private instruction and wait to start real school until six or seven.

Claire’s reverie was broken when she felt the taxi stop and she looked up with wide eyes at the building before her. The buildings in the complex were only two stories high, the grass was neatly trimmed, and the doors were all stark white with shimmering gold numbers.

Well, it’s not a cul-de-sac housing development, but it sure still feels like suburbia.

Number eleven was theirs, on the second floor. The cab driver helped with the luggage as Claire tugged Faith up the stairs, eyes still glued to her tablet, which was now playing Sesame Street. Claire’s fingers shook as she pushed the key into the lock, and she exhaled sharply when she took in the sight of the living room. She’d had most of the things she didn’t want to replace sent over about a week and a half ago, along with ordering new essentials like furniture and mattresses. But the movers and delivery men hadn’t bothered to keep anything separated by room like she’d requested, except for the furniture itself. Sighing deeply, she sat Faith on the couch beside a stack of boxes and paid the taxi driver, thanking him profusely.

God…where do I even begin?

Claire supposed she should start with finding and unpacking bedroom items, preferring to have both of their beds made before they crashed tonight. Kitchen stuff could wait; they’d most definitely be getting takeout tonight…and probably every night for the foreseeable future.

She started to rifle through boxes and then she smiled and turned to Faith, intending to let her know how very exciting it was to be in their new home, but she bit her tongue. It would perhaps be better to leave her, for now, completely engrossed in the tablet. If Claire interrupted her now, who knows when she’d be able to get anything done? Sadness tugged at her heart briefly as she watched her daughter, a vague, absent smile on her face. She wondered if she had any idea at all what was going on, if she’d be anxious in a new environment, if it wouldn’t phase her at all, if she was excited. She had no way of communicating her thoughts and emotions, even to her own mother, and it was times like this where that thought pained Claire the most.

She wanted nothing more than to blast her Disney playlist and christen the new living room with their dancing, to revel in this new beginning with her daughter. But for the sake of productivity, that would have to wait.

With a heavy sigh, Claire returned to her boxes, intent on finding bedsheets and blankets. She wanted to turn on music, knowing that she worked better that way, but she didn’t want anything to distract Faith from her, well, distraction. She settled on humming “Let it Go,” of all things, to herself while she worked to find what they’d need to carry out the rest of the day with some semblance of normalcy.

#outlander #outlander fanfic #outlander modern au #outlander au #claire beauchamp #claire fraser #jamie fraser #faith fraser

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sign-from-god-complex · 4 years

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stellar nebula

Summary: Virgil was far softer than he would ever admit. Roman was fully aware of this and had no qualms in taking advantage of it to get what they wanted—all for their husband’s benefit, of course.

Pairing: Prinxiety with background loceit and parental analogince.

A/N: I figured I could post this as a little belated thing for Virgil’s birthday!!! I am never prepared for when the birthdays arrive because I have a horrible sense of linear time but luckily I already had this one written, hahah.

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

"Virgil? Angel? The darling light of my life?"

Virgil gave a heavy sigh, rolling his eyes. "What do you want now, Princey?"

Spinning around in his chair, Virgil could see Roman standing in the doorway to his room, a smile plastered on their face and hands held firmly behind their back. There were about a million reasons Roman could be hiding something from him—Virgil's brain playing them on loop like one of those short movies about natural disasters you find at museums—and none of them were particularly promising.

"What?" Roman asked, mock-offended, "I can't just come to check up on my lovely husband?"

Virgil gave them an unimpressed look. "Not like that you can't."

Roman winced slightly, looking appropriately caught-out. Virgil is fairly certain that they knew this is how this was going to go down; they may be an actor but they've always been a horrible liar.

"Okay," they conceded, "So, you know how I'm stupidly impulsive?"

Virgil narrowed his eyes. Not necessarily a great start. "Yes, I'm aware."

Sucking in a breath, Roman pulled their hands from behind their back, revealing a tiny, jet-black kitten.

"Meet Stella."

Stella, upon hearing her name, just mewed softly and gods, if Virgil wasn't already entirely sold by the hopeful look in his partner's eyes that really would have cinched it.

"Roman, where did you get a kitten?" Virgil groaned, knowing that if he didn't put up a little bit of a fight before he folded, Roman would start thinking he was a pushover.

To be entirely fair, when it came to Roman Virgil was a pushover but they didn't need to know that.

Roman bounced on the balls of their feet, pulling Stella to their chest and stroking her tiny head with one finger while Virgil tried not to visibly melt.

"Our neighbour's cat had kittens a few months ago!" Ro exclaimed, "You know, the cat that accidentally wandered into our apartment earlier this year and you tried to pretend you hadn't immediately fallen in love with?"

Virgil flushed red. To his credit, their neighbour's cat was illegally adorable—layers and layers of fluff that were completely willing to sit on your lap and purr for as long as you need. You'd have to be inhuman not to fall in love with her.

"The lady who owns her said she couldn't afford to keep them all so she said we could take one if we wanted! And I saw Stella and… well, she reminded me of you. Kinda quiet but cuddly, dressed all in black, tiny-"

"Shut up!" Virgil laughed through his scowl, pushing at Roman's shoulder, though extremely wary of the kitten they still held.

"I'm serious!" they replied, grinning—it was somewhere between teasing and hopelessly in love and Virgil really wanted to kiss them but he also didn't want to be held responsible for Roman forgetting and subsequently dropping a tiny kitten, "Plus, don't try to act like you haven't missed having something to take care of and dote on since Logan moved out. I have received more packed lunches these last few months than I've had since I was 12. Those protective parental instincts have got to go somewhere. Hence, Stella."

And with that, Roman held her out towards Virgil, her tiny, fluffy body cradled gently in their hands. Gingerly, Virgil scooped her up, watching her as she blinked up at him, big green eyes seemingly studying his face before she mewed and her paws began softly kneading his chest where she was held.

"You can make her all the packed lunches you want!" Roman joked, "Though, I doubt she'd understand their purpose as she is a cat-"

"Shut up."

Virgil would not admit, even under pain of utter humiliation, that his voice broke slightly from both Stella's actions and the thought that Roman could look at something so utterly sweet and precious and think it was in any way comparable to him. Roman, however, would excitedly tell everyone they could find when they later got too drunk at a Christmas party and wanted everyone to know how sweet Virgil truly was, forever ruining Virgil's reputation.

Virgil would forgive them though. After all, when it came to Roman, Virgil was a total pushover.

Tearing his eyes away from Stella for a moment, who was now beginning to squirm slightly in his arms, Virgil gave a sigh. "Ro, we don't have any of the supplies we need to own a cat."

"Oh, heh, about that," Roman replied sheepishly, "I- uh. I got it covered."

They stepped to the side, revealing a mountain of cat-related objects, including a bed, some food and a large number of toys. Honestly, Virgil is surprised he didn't hear them dragging it all in.

"How did you even-?"

"Well…” Roman rubbed at the back of their neck. “You know how Dee works at the pet store?"

Virgil blinked.

"You used our son's boyfriend to get you a discount on pet supplies?!" he asked incredulously.

The hesitant look on Roman’s face was only barely eclipsed by the smile they were giving him and Virgil just resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"... Yes?" they replied slowly, watching as Virgil’s eyes fell shut for a moment, shaking his head in disbelief, “In my defence, he offered! I was perfectly content to pay full price-”

Virgil raised his eyebrows but the smile he was failing to hide gave him away entirely. “With whose money?”

“Our money, my dearest, most darling husband whom I love and adore an-”

As Roman went on, they leant closer and closer towards him until Virgil was almost worried about the potential of them falling straight over.

“Okay, okay, you can shut up now.” Virgil sighed, looking for all the world like he couldn’t believe that it had come to this—even if, realistically, Virgil could not be less surprised. “Go put that stuff away, will you? If you leave it in the middle of the hallway I’m gonna trip over it later when I forget that it’s there.”

Roman’s eyes lit up, their tongue poking out slightly as they grinned. “So does that mean…?”

“Yes, I suppose we can keep her,” he said begrudgingly, his tone completely at odds with the besotted expression on his face as he gazed down at the kitten in his arms.

Roman just laughed, starting to pick things up from the ground behind them. They had a tendency to try to carry more things than they reasonably should be able to carry and Virgil really should help them but, hey, they brought the cat home. He was pretty confident that they brought this on themself.

“You know, I think I’ve got some competition for your favourite thing in the household,” Ro quipped, almost dropping a bag of food. They were saved, just narrowly, by a quick catch from Virgil and he quickly replaced the food in a slightly less precarious place.

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “Bold of you to assume you ever held that title.”

Grinning at his partner's spluttering and entirely too offended expression, Virgil swung the door shut and moved back to his desk, placing Stella down gently beside his laptop.

“Hey, sweetheart, hey” Virgil cooed at her, softly enough that he hoped Roman wouldn’t be able to hear him because lord knows the teasing would never end, “Wanna learn how to budget? I can guarantee it’s exactly as boring as it sounds.”

Stella responded by sniffing around at the computer, giving a little meow as she bopped her head against the screen. Virgil picked her up, trying to avoid having her walk across any more of the keys.

“Yeah, didn’t think so.” Virgil scanned the room for a moment. “Guess I’m gonna have to find you something else to do then, huh?”

And if 15 minutes later—once Roman had returned from stowing away all the new pet supplies—they were greeted with their husband fast asleep, Stella curled up safely in his arms, they certainly couldn't say they were surprised.

Deciding to leave the two of them to their nap, Roman pulled the blankets over Virgil’s body, though keeping enough space near the top that Stella's head was exposed. Then, leaning down, they pressed a soft kiss to Virgil’s forehead.

“Happy Birthday, V.”

Taglist: @mutechild @super-magical-wizard @shadowsfromthesun @teadays @sandersships @camcam774 @autism-goblin @deadlyhuggles6 @romanthestarstruckqueer @whispers-stuff-in-your-ear @rainboots-are-for-snobs @sanders-and-sides @spirits-in-my-thoughts @kee-and-co @deceitful-duke @stop-it-anxiety @figurative-falsehood @jadedfantasies231 @idosanderssidespromptssometimes @poisonedapples @sanders-screams @another-sandersidesblog @do-not-just-see-observe @mychemicalpanicattheemo @thomassandersenthusiast @localagendergrape @fandomsofrandom @gattonero17 @airiervessel @ollyollyoxinfree .

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #prinxiety #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #deceit sanders #loceit #lo can write #happy birthday virgil!

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the-mandalorian-clone-lover · 4 years

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Aces in Space Chapter 5

Happy Ace Week Y’all!!!!!!!

Ok I am so Excited for this part (I hadn’t planned for it to be during ace week but it actually works perfect!)

Roman is finally getting to go to the support group he told Butch about! I put a reminder of what Butch looks like because I’m also introducing a new character, Hannah, her reference photo is below (one of my real-life model friends, she’s cool:) as well. Tags: @sunshinepascal @rentskenobi @maybege @obaby-wan @princessxkenobi

I’m going outside to muck about with my lightsaber again, I’ll add the links to the previous chapters tonight :D Enjoy and thanks for reading!!!

Warning for excessive cuteness y’all this gets adorable

(Roman at the support group at the local library, brought Butcher along, 2 months dating)

Roman is absolutely certain it’s been years since he sat in the passenger seat. Thankfully, it isn’t Butch’s first time in years driving or he’d be thrilled to get out of the car. As it stands, they’ve been sitting in the parking lot of the local community center (its adjoined to the library) for three minutes and neither of them have moved. It won’t make them late, they got here 26 minutes early out of a panic induced need to be over-prepared, but it doesn’t make the silence any less awkward. Butch had insisted they would look even more out of place in the suits they’re both used to wearing so they’ve somehow ended up in jeans (again) and t-shirts (Butch added a flannel but Roman is convinced it’s to hide his side-arm and not to ward off any chill, the rolling of the sleeves further cements this thought). Roman settled for a band t-shirt that Erica had bought him though he’s never heard their music, and he has a leather jacket but he’s somehow convinced it’ll look like he’s trying too hard if he puts it on.

“It’ll be cold in there boss. Always is” Butch says helpfully, as if he knew the struggle of the other man, though his eyes haven’t left the window since they arrived.

“Yes. Well.” Roman starts, unsure where exactly this sentence is going “I’m, glad, you came along.”

Butch huffs out a laugh, “Well, Ms. Erica is a good one, so if you coming around here helps keep her around, I’ll be along as long as you want me” He finishes smiling at Roman and Roman is certain that he’ll never find anyone as good as Butch as long as he lives, no matter the standard of measure.

“We better get in there.” Butch speaks again helpfully.

“No, no,” Roman starts “best wait till 45, any sooner we might be the first one’s here, and I’d like to avoid that.” Butch shrugs again, conceding the point. He supposes they’ll be facing this either way, sooner or later.

When they do make it in, Roman walks to the desk with every intention of finding out from the librarian where he should be. He’s put on his business air, he can feel it, and it’s a nice change from the panic of the parking lot. He starts in a low tone to avoid startling her “Ma’am?”

Her eyes shoot up and then to his right where no doubt butch is looming, she swallows, then smiles and looks back to Roman. “Yes? Can I help you?”

Choosing to ignore the obvious glance that was directed to Butch (he has every intention of inquiring further into that during the car ride home) he pushes on. “Could you tell us where to find the, well, the support group for Asexuals?” He has to take a breath in-between but decides to be brave about it, using the full title instead of ‘aces’ reminding himself that this is for Erica. Her eyes widen slightly, then flit between the two of them and Roman realizes in a moment how they must look and decides there isn’t anything for it other than to grin and bear it.

“Oh,” she starts, and sounds, almost disappointed? “Yes, down the hall and the room on the right. They should be starting soon.” She indicates with a (rather long) manicured fingernail.

He nods then, giving her a small smile, and starts down the hallway, only getting a few steps in before realizing Butch isn’t following and he hears a small “what’s your name?” from the large man as he turns. The sight shouldn’t be shocking, Butch is a grown man after all, and fully allowed to find people that interest him but he’s become so soft in the moment; leaning over the desk to look deeply into the eyes of the librarian who is now looking short of breath.

“Hannah.” She manages to gasp out and Butch smiles kindly, “I’m Butcher, but I go by Butch pretty often”. He seems to have gotten nervous halfway through and is looking at his feet, but she’s smiling and reaching to cover his laced fingers that are on the desk. “That’s lovely” She says, smiling like Butch was a bouquet of flowers. Butch looks up, slightly shocked, looking at their hands (his dwarf her own to a ridiculous extent Roman notes) before looking back up to her eyes.

“Not as much as you are”

It’s the final nail in the coffin before they both start giggling and Roman is absolutely certain he’s never seen anything so adorable (even as he goes to a support group in order to better understand his girlfriend). Butch stops laughing before she does, pausing to appreciate her (Roman knows that’s what the look on his face is, he looks at Erica like that all the time now himself) before he watches Butch tell her he better get on now. Roman has the decency to act as though he were extremely interested in the shelves to his left- away from them- before he’s rejoined by a Butch who has the softest grin he’s ever seen on his face. As they walk down the hall Roman decides to leave the whole thing till they’re in the car again, if the dopey smile is anything to go by, he won’t be getting much from Butch anyway. He takes a deep breath at the reminder of what they’re both walking into, ignoring the urge to feel ridiculous, and brings out his phone to open the notes app before sliding it into his pocket again. They walk through the door, Butch first, he’d insisted on the drive over that he was still Roman’s bodyguard and would act as such, and find a group of about 15 milling around the room quietly, cake and bottles of water sitting on a table on the far end of the room. Beyond that (and Roman has to suppress the urge to sigh audibly) is a circle of chairs. They’re approached by a smaller blond boy, who greets them with an energy filled “Hello! Are you here for the support group for aces?” he pushes the large rimmed black glasses he wears further up his face as he looks between them and Roman exchanges a glance with Butch before answering

“Yes, is um, is there a protocol to this?”

He blames his nerves for the formality of his response, but the boy seems too thrilled with his presence to be bothered.

“Not at all! We all grab a snack, because cake am I right? And then head to the circle, though, to be honest, most of us couldn’t sit in a chair to save our life.”

Despite his confusion at what he’s sure is a joke the boy is assuming he’s in on, he nods. “We’ll just, help ourselves then.”

The boy nods back at him before freezing and exclaiming “Oh God! I forgot!” his hand shoots out and Roman knows Butcher is already having a conniption at the outburst before the boy finishes “I’m Tom! Jenny says it’s important to tell people my name when I meet them”. His eyes flit behind him as he mentions the other name and a similar looking woman, an older sibling maybe, Roman thinks, smiles affectionately. Roman nods to her then, before bringing his eyes back to the boy, shaking his hand with a “I’m Roman, and this is Butch”. He doesn’t think he needs to add more but the boy’s brow seems to furrow as he shakes Butch’s hand.

“Do, um, are you both Ace?” It’s a timid question but Roman can tell the boy means well, he can also however see the woman, Jenny his mind supplies, making her way over to them quickly.

“I’m so sorry” she says, barely reaching them before apologizing “Tom hasn’t quite learned yet that not everyone wants to say” her hands find the boys shoulders and he turns with a protest “Jenny! I’m almost 22! I’m not a child!”

“Have you said hello to Marie yet?” She changes the subject “I think she brough cookies today”

Almost immediately the boy lights up and is off to explore the new person. Jenny’s eyes go back to Roman, “I’m sorry, he’s on the autism spectrum, I’m still working with him about filters”.

It’s Butch that cuts in this time “It’s alright, I had a sister who was too, I’ll keep him company”. He walks to the snack table then, leaving a stunned Roman alone with Jenny. As long as he’s known Butcher, he never knew he had a sister, let alone one on the spectrum. He makes a mental note to ask Butcher about that on the car ride too. He turns back to Jenny then and manages a smile.

“I’m uh, well, neither one of us is ace” he sees tension begin to fill her body at that so he rushes on “but my girlfriend is and, I want to better understand the whole thing. Butch is here for moral support.” He jerks his head to indicate the other man in case she hadn’t heard the name and hopes for the best. She does seem to relax at that, eyeing him gently “That’s sweet. Of both of you.” It’s said kindly, and somehow, Roman is already feeling more comfortable about this.

He stays a little longer after they finish to ‘confirm next week with jenny’ give Butch time to get a phone number from his librarian and tells Butch he’ll meet him at the car.

**********************************

Chapter 4 Chapter 3 Chapter 2 Chapter 1

#asexual #ewan mcgregor #aces in spaces #ace character #original characters #original fic #new chapter #might make a masterlist?#then i don't have to hunt for the links each time

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ya-boi-satan123 · 4 years

Text

before i go to sleep

i had to get this off my mind don’t mind my dumbarse just keep scrollin’

____________________________

now i dont go into the adhd, autism, that kinda stuff hcs. they're still interesting to me, but alas, that’s not the area i usually look into. however, something i noticed in a lot of fanfics stuff about toh is that a lot of people hc Luz as adhd. but personally, id see her more as a high functioning autistic kid..? having hf autism myself, there’s just a bunch of things that are p relatable about her to me that made me go “huh, cool” Amity could prolly fit a different variation(? different symptoms idk what to call them shush) of it, but

little things that just fit my own experience, being.. alive something like.. how she seems to ‘not fit in’, not knowing general social rules, maybe sometimes not understanding certain ‘social cues’(? expressions? fvgbh i’m stupid ok i had it better in my head like 3 hours ago) unless told outright or directly (so like, maybe that’s why Luz seems so ‘oblivious to amity but not her siblings, since they outright call her cute amirite amity haha compliments hahahstraight hai-) along with getting easily distracted, (a thing that is indeed present in autistic kids too, very fun ((disclaimer;)kinda not at times)) and her special interest thing with Azura and magic, looking into it as much as she can, from fanfics to fan theories. it can also explain how she was not ‘normal’ (or perhaps not... ‘ordinary’, one might say-) on earth, or, as i had said earlier, had ‘not fitted in’, which is what may make her seem strange and difficult to engage with by her peers, school staff, and her own mother included. (lastparttotallywasnteditedfromthefandomarticle) but yes since I've had this in my head all day, and i am only just forgetting half of the points that i had for this, its not as many points as i had planned to make. there’s also the autistic Amity thing, which i also find p interesting, however Luz personally is more relatable with my own version. (friendly reminder that not all autistic kids have the same ‘symptoms’!(is that what you call them idk I’m stupid)) but there’s my mini take on it. no sides or anything, just had to throw that out there.

p.s in my experience, trouble expressing certain emotions can happen, but also i’ve found that i, personally, whilst having a ṗ̴̛̭͔̳̯̗̳̔̎͒ ̷̧̭̫͈̘̜̜̃a̵̞̪͚͈̭̲͖͗̾́͂̑͝ ̵̧̱͇̳̅̄͋n̷̲̞̓̓̕ͅ ̴͙̝̣̮̂͐́̒́̀͝i̸̧̛̞͔̘̊ ̸̭͙̩̖̳̓c̵͕͇̖̚ internally, can act surprisingly natural (most of the time) around the person i may crush on, as long as they were my friend before hand i got to know them as a friend, and uh

yknow

luz befriended amity, yknow, haha

she got to know her as a friend first, right, haha

lumity guys haha, amirite

its 3 in the morning jesus christ me

#frick you im into owl house now deal with it #personally i dont get into these kind of theories #i just found this interesting from my own perspective and decided to put this in #the owl house #luz #luz noceda #luz toh #luz the human #adhd luz #autistic luz #amity #luz is really adorable though tbh #cutie patootie #amity is too though with her dumb gay panics #what a mood #uhh #lumity #or at least a mention of it #straight hair

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system-of-a-feather · 4 years

Text

Entropy System’s System Pride Day Questions

So I finally got around to watching that video and felt it was a pretty good and interesting set of questions and felt I would go ahead and answer them in terms of our system so those that follow can get a little more knowledge about us and our experiences. This is all answered by Riku - the current host of this system. Plus I lost track of time and totally didn’t notice System Pride Day coming up so lets just have this be belated System Pride Day post

How old was the body when the host discovered they were part of a system?

That depends really which host we are talking about. I am currently the third long term host that this system has had and I can’t personally speak for the two hosts before me since I don’t know how aware they were of the situations that were going on. Personally, I didn’t know about the presence of other alters (even as a protector since I normalized everything odd about it somehow?) until I was about 13 or 14 when a certain incident kind of freaked me out since I co-fronted clearly for the first time and didn’t know why I couldn’t control my body. From there Aderis kind of made herself prominent and pretty well known and it kind of moved from there. With that being said, I didn’t know anything of Dissociative Identity Disorder or that it was an actual disorder with a basis in trauma until I was 16 or 17 years old. Prior to that I alternated between thinking it was “normal”, “imaginary friends”, “intense and out of hand roleplaying”, and “just my imagination.”

How many members do you have / are you aware of?

We are well aware of seven members existing currently. According to Ray, we have a fragment that is dormant that most of us don’t know about but isn’t particularly much of a current worry. There might be others, but to our current knowledge, we are seven.

Do you attend formal therapy? Have you in the past?

I am currently seeing a trauma / dissociative disorder specialist and have been seeing him for about a year and a half now. I have been in the mental health system for about four years now and saw a different therapist prior. (I’ve also bounced around between therapists for short periods of time, seen three psychiatrists, and been in group therapy)

How many misdiagnosis have you had?

I wouldn’t say I’ve had any major misdiagnosis in the past as much as “inaccurate” diagnosises in the sense they weren’t “wrong” but they danced around the issue / were more technical or were hard to confirm and have been brought into question. I have been diagnosed with OCD and Aspergers in the past however, lately it seems more likely that OCD is more “OCD tendencies” and is under debate, and Aspergers - when I saw an Autism specialist - was hard to pinpoint whether or not I had learned a lot of traits from my two family members that have it or if I had it and coped pretty well. The other thing that has been brought up with my current therapist is if the autistic traits are more centralized in some alters more than others.

I’ve also been diagnosed with what I like to call “understatement” diagnosises where they are right, but don’t really fall under the DSM-V’s typical line of “the disturbance is not better explained by another mental disorder” such as Generalized Anxiety Disorder.

Do you have a proper diagnosis?

Yep. My current therapist diagnosed me sometime last year.

My previous therapist - the one that specialized in autism and not dissociative / trauma disorders - did bring up the concern almost immediately though when I first started therapy because apparently one of the first issues you talk about casually being “I’m majorly depressed because my online self is way better than me and handles life way better and I just suck so I should just stop existing so we can have a better life” while also not knowing what dissociation is apparently quickly pings off concern.

Hilariously that therapist ended up dismissing it and so I did as well until my current therapist was like “Uh, I’m pretty sure you have DID.”

What is one situation that you are really proud of your system’s teamwork?

One situation? Man there are a lot, but I think I really am just proud of how well all of us have pulled together to manage living away from home at college and shit. Plus running this blog, but mostly college and juggling that, self care, recovery, goals, money, and a social life all at once.

What is the biggest hurdle you’ve overcome so far as a system?

I would probably say figuring out how to function, communicate, trust, and organize ourselves - especially how we relate to other people in our life and who to decide to let in our lives and who to not. We used to have a lot of issues with codependency and systems having drastically different opinions of people in our life so coming to figure out a way to mutually respect one another and trust each other’s judgements and understand where one of us might be biased / incorrect / swayed by trauma, extreme personality traits, or lack of insight and assigning responsibility / a order of respect / trust on topics to each alter. Really just getting our life in order and learnign to properly respect the experience, opinions, and individual knowledge of each part was probably the hardest for us.

Is your goal final fusion or functional multiplicity?

We are currently striving for functional multiplicity. If final fusion does occur down the line naturally, we aren’t 100% opposed to it, but honestly as we are, we are pretty comfortable and adjusted to living life as a team. We don’t really see the need to have to fuse unless it helps or unless a part feels like they would prefer / function better integrated with another part that agrees. We aren’t against fusion, but also we don’t see too much of the point.

Do you feel that each of you and your alters each deserve happiness, safety, and acceptance?

Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.

I would also like to extend that to pretty much anyone who has a single molecule or more of carbon in their body (save for some objectively horrible people as exceptions).

But I really do try to help and hope that everyone in my system, and anyone in systems reading this, can get the happiness, safety, and acceptance that they deserve to have since no one deserves to live with anything less

We all are working hard to make this life work out so I feel its the least we deserve. It’s the least you deserve.

#alter: riku #did #osdd #dissociative identity disorder #actuallydissociative #actuallydid #actually did #system pride #questions #asks #ask #about us #about

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millie1536 · 4 years

Text

A Second Chance

(Edmonton Ladies in Waiting)

Joan could barely contain her excitement as she entered the room. It felt like only yesterday that she had been in a place just like this one. She remembered the mix of fear and excitement that would fill the room each time a potential family came to visit. She remembered the way she and the other kids would pretend to go about their daily activities as if nothing was different as they watched to see who would be adopted.

In fact the room she found herself in was very similar to the room she remembered. It was large and filled with all sorts of toys and games. Oversized cushions and soft blankets surrounded a bookshelf in one corner and a television sat in the other. A large sliding door opened up on to a grass covered backyard. Children ran from one activity to another, talking and laughing as they played. They seemed happy.

Or at least most of them did.

As Joan looked around the room her eyes landed on a young girl sitting in the darkest corner of the room, seemingly trying to hide from everything and everyone. She watched the girl, rocking back and forth, for a few moments before making her way towards her.

“Hi, I’m Joan.” Joan gave the girl a warm smile. “What’s your name?”

“Elizabeth Blount.” The girl answered, looking at Joan with a blank expression.

Blount

Joan was sure she’d heard that name before.

“Are you here to adopt someone?” Joan’s thoughts were interrupted by the young girl.

“Yes, actually.” Joan smiled again at the girl.

“Well,” Elizabeth said, eyes scanning the room before she pointed to girl of about 12, “That’s Sophie, she’s really smart and wants to be a neuroscientist when she grows up.” Elizabeth paused before pointing at another child, “And that’s Kieran, he wants to be a video game designer. Over there, that’s Cara she’s a really good artist and she really likes dragons and draws them a lot. That one over there is Ruby, she want’s to be a vet when she’s older. She used to live on a farm before she came here and she said that the first thing she’s going to do when she gets out of here is get her horse back. James want’s to be a cricketer, sometimes when it’s raining and we’re not allowed outside he throws his cricket ball at me. He says it’s because I’m not active enough and he’s trying to help me. Oh, and that’s-“

“What about you?” Joan asked suddenly.

“What about me?” Elizabeth asked, rocking forward with more force than before and smiling when her back hit the wall as she rocked backwards.

“Well, you’ve been telling me about everyone else, what about you?” Joan rephrased the question. Elizabeth thought for a moment before answering.

“I’m going to age out the system and then…” Elizabeth shrugged, “I don’t know.”

“Why are you going to age out the system? Do you not want to be adopted?”

“No one wants a retard. People send their kids here because they’re like me. No one’s going to choose to have a spastic kid.” Elizabeth told her as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. In that moment Joan wanted nothing more than to scoop the girl into her arms and shield her from the world.

“Elizabeth Blount?” Maude, the woman who ran the home, asked hesitantly, “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Joan said firmly.

“It’s just that Elizabeth has a few… uh… special needs.” Maude said, as if speaking in code.

“That doesn’t mean she shouldn’t have a chance at a family.” Joan responded. She had made up her mind and there was nothing that would change that, “I’m sure it would be helpful for both Elizabeth and I if you expanded on her ‘special needs’ but if you don’t wish to disclose any of the information you alluded to then we’ll just have to work it out along the way.” Maude sat there, clearly taken aback but Joan’s abruptness.

“Elizabeth was diagnosed with Autism at age four, last year she was diagnosed with Disruptive Mood Dysregulation Disorder. She also suffers from nightmares and possible PTSD; however she’s never opened up enough for anyone to properly diagnose her.” Joan couldn’t help but feel as though she were at a funeral. The way Maude spoke about the young girl made it sound more like a eulogy than anything else. “She’s a handful.” Maude added.

“Well it’s a good thing I have two hands.”

It was decided that the transition would be easier for Elizabeth, or Bessie as she preferred to be called, if she got to know Joan a bit better before the adoption was finalised and so over the next few weeks Joan returned to the home.

“What would you like to do today?” Joan asked the dark haired girl.

“I don’t know.” Bessie shrugged, “It’s raining so we can’t really go anywhere.” The two sat in silence for a moment before a sudden burst of laughter from across the room caused Bessie to flinch.

“Is there somewhere quieter you’d like to go?” Joan asked, sensing the girl’s discomfort.

“I mean, everyone’s down here so my room’s probably empty but you don’t have to go up there if you don’t want to. We aren’t actually allowed upstairs during the day.”

“How about we head up there for a bit and if you want to come back down here then we will?” Bessie thought for a moment before nodding. She seemed to do that a lot, Joan noticed, the girl almost always thought about her response as if trying to work out if it was the correct answer.

Bessie led Joan upstairs to the bedroom she shared with four other girls. Joan followed Bessie as she made her way over to the bed furthest from the door.

“Well, this is it.” She said plopping down on the bare mattress. Joan looked around and saw that the other four beds all had sheets and blankets and was about to ask Bessie why her bed was bare when she noticed a pile of blankets in the corner a metre or so from the bed. “That’s my nest.” Bessie announced when she saw Joan looking at the pile.

“It looks very cosy.” Joan said.

“It is,” Bessie grinned, “Do you want to sit in it? It’s really warm and soft. I like to curl up in it at night and hide.”

“Who are you hiding from?” Bessie just shrugged again.

“No one in particular. I just like hiding.” Joan noticed that Bessie seemed far happier to talk now that it was just the two of them.

“So, Bessie, what do you like?” Joan asked in an attempt to get to know the girl.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, what do you enjoy doing? What’s your favourite food? Do you have a favourite animal? That kind of thing.” Joan clarified.

“Oh, okay.” Bessie nodded, “I like hiding, wait I already said that. Um, I like animals because they don’t judge you for stupid things they only care that you’re nice and don’t hurt them. I like reading because it’s like I get to go an adventures and make friends and stuff but I can do it somewhere quiet and no one interrupts me. Colouring and drawing is fun, I like making patterns. What was the other question? Oh, yeah, favourite food. I don’t really have one, I don’t really like eating because sometimes it hurts and it makes me feel sick.”

“Are there any foods that don’t hurt?” Joan asked the girl, she wanted to be sure that Bessie would eat if Joan adopted her.

“I think so,” Bessie nodded slowly, “But I can’t remember which ones. I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay.” Joan assured her, “We can work it out together.”

“You mean…” Bessie looked up at Joan with big eyes.

“I would like to adopt you, Bessie.” Joan smiled when Bessie’s face lit up.

“Really? But why me? Why not one of the normal kids?” Bessie’s face fell a little.

“Because you are a sweet kid and I want to give you all the opportunities my mum gave me.” Bessie tilted her head slightly and so Joan continued, “I was adopted when I was a year or two younger than you are. I want to do for you everything my mum did for me. I want to give you home that you feel safe in and that doesn’t overwhelm you with noise and people. What do you think?”

“What do I think?” Bessie repeated the question.

“Yeah, would you like to come live with me? You’ll have your own room and we can build you nest of whatever size you want.”

“I’d like that.” Bessie smiled, a small laugh escaping her, “I’d really like that.”

Joan groaned when she heard her phone ring. She was already running late and she really didn’t have the patience to deal with anymore telemarketers that morning.

“Hello?” Joan said as she positioned the pone between her head and her shoulder.

“Hey, Joey, how are you sweetheart?”

“I’m fine mum.” Joan replied as she started the car, “Look, mum, I can’t really talk right now.”

“Oh, is something the matter? Are you alright?”

“No, I’m fine.” Joan laughed a little at the way her mum’s voice reverted back to the one she used to use when Joan was sick as a child. “I’m picking Bessie up today.”

“Is that today? I thought it was next week. I’m sorry Joey, I’ll be right over.”

“Wait, mum. I know you’re excited to meet her but I think it might be best if it’s just me and Bessie for the first couple of days, I don’t want her getting overwhelmed with too many new things at once.” Joan bit her lip hoping that her mum would understand.

“Right, of course. Sorry. Well tell Bessie I say hi and that I’m looking forward to meeting her.”

“Alright, I will.”

“Okay. Bye, love.”

“See ya.” Joan sighed as she hung up the phone. She loved her mother but sometimes she was a bit too excitable.

As Joan pulled up in front of the home she breathed a sigh of relief.

“Two minutes to spare.” She said, looking down at the clock. Deciding that it wouldn’t be a terrible idea to be a tiny bit early Joan got out of the car and headed inside.

“Joan!” Bessie waved from where she was sitting on the second step of the staircase.

“Were you watching the door?” Joan asked, giving the girl’s hand a squeeze.

“Yep, you’re one minute and 25 seconds early.” Bessie informed her.

“Am I?” Joan asked, looking down at her watch, “In that case I should probably go wait in the car for a minute or so.” Joan said as she turned away only for Bessie to grab hold of her arm and pull her down to sit beside her.

“You’re not that early.” Bessie said through a fit of giggles as she gave Joan’s hand a tight squeeze. Bessie wasn’t particularly fond of people touching her and she very rarely allowed anyone to hug her. The first time Bessie had given Joan’s hand a squeeze Joan had been a little confused.

“It’s like a hug,” Bessie had said, “But it doesn’t make my skin burn.”

“That’s very clever.” Joan had told the girl who smiled proudly.

“Sometimes I like hugs but most of the time it makes my skin feel like it’s on fire. Sorry.”

“Hey,” Joan had said, “Don’t ever apologise for not liking something. I just want you to be happy and safe,” then as an after thought she had added, “And you know what? It’s not the physical contact that makes hugs special. It’s the person you’re hugging.” Joan vividly remembered the way Bessie’s face had lit up when she squeezed her hand back.

“Are you excited?” Joan asked Bessie as she settled herself on the step.

“Yeah,” Bessie nodded, “But I’m also scared.” She admitted the last bit quietly.

“Would you like to watch the video again?” Joan asked. She had made a video tour of her house for Bessie so that she wouldn’t feel like she was going in blind.

“Yes please.” Joan got her phone out of her pocket and set of the video. It started at the front door, then went into the office, then the lounge room, followed by the kitchen and finally the bathroom. Afterwards it went upstairs and showed the three bedrooms, Joan’s room and two spares. Joan had told Bessie that she could choose which of the rooms she wanted and she had chosen the bigger of the two that also happened to share a wall with Joan’s room. The room was a simple guest room but Joan had promised that Bessie could decorate it however she liked.

“Can I get a loft bed?” Bessie asked once the video had finished, “That way I can hang up blankets and make a cave underneath it.”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea.” Joan agreed, “And you know, there’s this really big tree in the backyard that would be perfect for a treehouse.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“I’ve always wanted a treehouse.” Bessie said excitedly.

“Me too, but we didn’t have any big enough trees where I grew up.”

“Can we build it together?” Bessie asked, “I mean I get if you’d rather just buy on and have someone put it in, it’s probably quicker and safer and-“

“I’d love to build a treehouse with you.” Joan told her.

“Alright, last one.” Joan said as she turned to the final page, “You ready, Bessie?”

“I’m ready.” Bessie nodded. She watched closely as Joan signed the last form.

“Well, that’s it. You’re stuck with me now.” Joan laughed as Bessie jumped around the room with excitement.

“I think it might be the other way around.” Maude muttered, just loud enough for Joan to hear.

“Alright, Bessie, why don’t you go get your bag and I’ll meet you at the front door in a minute.” Joan waited for Bessie’s footsteps to disappear up the stairs before turning to Maude, “Listen, I get that she probably wasn’t the easiest kid to have here but that’s not her fault. Surely you’ve noticed the way the kids treat her and how uncomfortable she is around them, if you had allowed her to stay upstairs instead of forcing her to be with everyone else-“

“I can’t just go around making different rules for different people.” Maude said, “If I had let her stay in her room then everyone else would have wanted to stay upstairs. The children are required to stay downstairs for supervision purposes. There are plenty of quiet corners for them to retreat to if they want to be alone. Kids need to learn that sometimes in life you have to do things you don’t want to do.”

“They also need to learn that not everyone has the same needs.” Joan said calmly, “This isn’t a case of Bessie being shy. Her brain doesn’t process sensory input like other people’s do.”

“You’ve know the girl for a month, how would you know what her brain can and can’t do?” Maude rolled her eyes.

“Because I’m a paediatrician, It’s my job to know.” Joan said, turning and leaving the room.

“What was that about?” Bessie asked when Joan met her on the front stoop.

“I just needed to have a quick word with Maude.”

“About me?” Bessie asked nervously.

“Yes,” Joan had made a promise to herself that she would be truthful with Bessie, “I didn’t like the way she spoke to you, or about you for that matter.”

“What did she say?” Bessie wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer.

“It wasn’t so much what she said,” Joan told her as they walked to the car, “More how she said it.” Joan sighed before kneeling down so she was eye level with Bessie, “Bessie, I need you to listen to me and understand that no matter what anyone says to you, no matter how they treat you, you are an incredible person, alright?” Bessie nodded sadly.

“It’s because I’m autistic isn’t it? That’s why people treat me like that.”

“No,” Joan shook her head, “People do what they do because they don’t understand. They don’t understand that you’re brain processes information differently to theirs and sometimes people lash out when they don’t understand something.”

“Because they’re scared?”

“Exactly, people fear what they don’t understand.” Joan confirmed, “But like I said, you are an amazing kid and nothing that anyone says is going to change that.” Bessie smiled wides as she wiped her eyes on her sleeve, “I think it’s time to go home, what do you think?” Joan smiled back.

“Yeah, let’s go home.”

@upsettimyspagetthi

#six #six the musical #six fanfiction #bessie on the bass #joan on the keys #autistic bessie

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frozen-monster-lover · 6 years

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My names Sam. Sam I Am

And I've never eaten green eggs and ham. Food coloring in general fucks me up the same way sugar does. After I came back from the gym I decided to get a protien shake BUT to my dismay they didn't have what I usually get so I got the drink next to it. It tasted like watered down chocolate but I bought it so I committed. After I got in the big curvy road that bisects my city I started feeling...weird thus I looked at the sugar count.

Oh yes you may have 26 grams of protein but you also have 32 grams of sugar and I had to pull over and go into fetal.

A police officer came by and asked if I was okay and after two minutes of conversation he said hope you feel better and left. Had to go another mile or Id puke in my moms car. Im happy to say while yes I made it home however Im still in pain. As Im typing this my body is purging on itself.

What I trully came to say is thank you for the 600 followers. I said Id come out with mlm stories but I must put those on hold because:

I go back to MEPS in early July

I MIGHT move in with my boyfriend

Im going to Tampa cuz the Cubans in the family need to have a talk with a defiant cousin of mine and I may or may not slap her depending on my mood when I get there but honestly because of the severity of her actions I think I will

Going to high school orientation with my little sister and the only reason why Im going is cuz I know my way around that cluster fuck of a school. It's a fucking maze and even though she has autism you'd think Id be worried but Im not. I just gotta show her the shortcuts and she'll remember it like that. Plus I talked to my old teachers and got her some good folks in there

Worrying about my father's, grandmothers, and my mothers health while at the same time worrying about mine

My vitiligo is spreading down my leg and I found more grey patches in my hair and for some fuckin reason it suits me

You get the idea. Anyways I'll still reblog stuff and answer asks but I wont be writing anything while all these things happen so please bear with me. I love all you puddin pops. Thank you for the validation and confidence boost in my writing.

Oh and uh flood my asks with whatever you want. All will be answered

#mod post #600 followers #yay

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therealmaggiemedia · 3 years

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The Maggie Simpson Show E1904 Eye Contact is the best way Rated PG

FADE IN

INT, MAGGIE’S BEDROOM-DAY

Maggie is getting ready for school she is already dressed.

MAGGIE

Lets see if I have everything!, pens yes, books yes, recess snack yes paper yes, well looks like I have everything for school!

Maggie looks at her class schedule and sees she has a day trip coming up.

MAGGIE

A day trip, I’ll look forward to that!

Maggie picks up her pink backpack and puts it on her back and exits the room, on the landing she bumps into Bart!

MAGGIE

(ANGRY) Get out of the way stupid!

Bart gives Maggie an angry look.

INT, THE KINDERGARTEN-DAY

Mr Johnson is telling them about a class trip today but Maggie forgot her Money for the trip.

JOHNSON

Later today we;ll be taking a trip to a park and you can go in the water if you like I trust you all have your trip money?

MAGGIE

(ANNOYED GRUNT)

JOHNSON

Maggie!, what’s the problem?

MAGGIE

Mr Johnson!, I thought the trip was next week so I don’t have the trip money!

SKYE

Maggie!, I’ll pay for both of us as we are friends!

MAGGIE

Skye!, thank you, I’ll pay you back I promise!

Skye smiles at Maggie

Skye gives Mr Johnson two dalliers.

SKYE

Maggie!, you owe me a Dollar!

MAGGIE

I’ll have that for you tomorrow!

JOHNSON

Okay! The trip is at 11am so we have lots of time!

Mr Johnson sees Skye not making eye contact.

JOHNSON

Excuse me Skye!, when I’m talking you look at me not at your shoes!, I’d like to see you after class!

SKYE

I’m Sorry Mr Johnson!

JOHNSON

That’s okay Skye!

Sky is looking at her shoes again.

JOHNSON

Skye!, my face is up here!

Skye continues looking at her shoes Maggie notices Skye’s strange behavior.

MAGGIE

Skye!, why are you looking at your shoes when Mr Johnson talks to you?

SKYE

I’ll tell you later!

Then the bell rings for recess everyone races for the door Mr Johnson stops Skye as he would like a ward with her.

JOHNSON

Skye!, sit with me a minute!

She sits in a chair facing Mr Johnson.

JOHNSON

How come you were looking at your shoes when I addressed you?

SKYE

Sorry!, I wasn’t concentrating but I will from now on I promise!

JOHNSON

Well that’s good to know!, go and join your friends and enjoy what is left of recess!

Skye leaves the room, Mr Johnson is concerned for Skye so is calls Principal Skinner on the classroom phone.

JOHNSON

Seymour!, its Eric!, I am very concerned About Skye McDonald! She isn’t making eye contact with me when I talk to her!

PRINCIPAL SKINNER ON PHONE

You do know that Skye has high functioning autism!

JOHNSON

No Seymour!, I didn’t know that but I will try to help Skye!, in any way I can!

SKINNER

Well she needs special help!, just do what you can Eric!

EXT, THE PLAYGROUND-DAY

Maggie is sitting with Skye on a bench they are shearing potato chips.

MAGGIE

Skye! Are you going to tell me why you were looking at your shoes in class?

SKYE

I couldn’t say it in front of Mr Johnson!, our family have never dealt with black people and that’s it!

MAGGIE

Skye!, is this the real truth?

SKYE

No!, the real truth is my autism is high functioning and I have never told anyone that before!

MAGGIE

Not to worry!, stick with me I’ll help you!

SKYE

Oh, thank you Maggie!

INT, THE KINDERGARTEN-LATER

Mr Johnson is telling his Class its time for the class trip to the park.

JOHNSON

Okay class!, now it is time for the trip before we get on the bus please go to the cafeteria and collect your packed lunch!

On the bus Maggie is sitting with Skye and she wonders how she handlers traveling.

MAGGIE

Skye! I have a question for you!

SKYE

Yes, Maggie!, go ahead!

MAGGIE

How are you on trips I mean do you have travel sickness at all?

SKYE

Not that I know of!

MAGGIE

Oh Good!

Gerald on the next seat thinks Skye does have Travel Sickness.

GERALD

Bet she does have travel sickness!

MAGGIE

In that case five bucks says she doesn’t!

GERALD

Simpson! You have yourself a bet!

MAGGIE

Sorry Skye!, he just won’t shut up!

Then the bus starts but Skye had lied to Maggie and said she dosn’t have travel sickness but in reality she does.

Maggie takes a look at Skye and sees she isn’t looking well

MAGGIE

Skye!, are you okay?

SKYE

Maggie! Remember when I said I don’t have travel sickness it seems I do!

MAGGIE

Oh my god!, just try and hold it till we stop at the park!

Skye tried her best but she just can’t hold it any longer.

SKYE

Maggie!, I think I’m going to be sick!

Maggie goes into her backpack and gives her a paper bag that says Kwick-E-Mart yes Maggie says paper bags.

Skye takes the bag from Maggie and throws up in it.

EXT, THE PARK-DAY

Everyone has got off the bus and Skye puts the bag in the trashcan.

JOHNSON

So now we are here I think we should have lunch lets find a nice spot for us all to sit together!

They find a spot that is perfect Mr Johnson puts out the blanket for them to sit on they all get their food out and start eating. However Gerald is not to happy with Maggie as she has not paid him her bet.

JOHNSON

Okay Kids that’s ouir lunch you can have fun or you can just sit quietly whatever you want to do!

SKYE

There is something I need to do!, I really need to go to the bathroom!

JOHNSON

There isn’t any this kind of park so you have to use the bushes!

SKYE

Oh God! I’ve never done this before!

MAGGIE

Skye!, there is nothing to it!

SKYE

I think I’m having a meltdown!

Sky gets overwhelmed and starts to cry then it happens Skye has a little accident and wets her trousers.

MAGGIE

Uh oh!

Skye realizes what has happened and her face goes red with embarrassment.

FADE TO LATER IN THE PARK

Skye has took off her wet things and is now wearing leaves around herself.

SKYE

What am I going to do Maggie!, I can’t go home wearing leaves!

MAGGIE

Tell you what I’ll see what I can do with your pants!

Maggie takes Skye’s pants to the river and washes them the best she can then Maggie hangs them from a tree to dry them as thre sun is out they will dry quickly, Maggie walks back to Skye.

MAGGIE

Your pants are drying on the tree there they will be safe so not to worry, say while swe wait for your pants to dry lets have a paddle in the river!

SKYE

Okay!, as long as I’m with you I’m fine!

Skye sits on the grass and takes off her socks and gets in the river she is joined by Maggie

SKYE

you know what Maggie!, this isn’t so bad!

MAGGIE

Skye!, I told you it’ll be fine!

Then Skye feels something swimming around her feet.

SKYE

Maggie!, there’s something around my feet!

The camera pans down to show fish swimming around Skye’s feet.

MAGGIE

Don’t worry about them!, they are little fish called sticklebacks completely harmless!

SKYE

Thank god!

MAGGIE

Lets go and get your pants from the tree!

At the picnic area Maggie and Skye have returned to the area and Skye is now wearing her pants again.

JOHNSON

Skye!, I saw you in the river with Maggie!, I’m glad you have a good friend like Maggie!

SKYE

Thank you Mr Johnson!

JOHNSON

Lets all get back on the bus!, Skye are you feeling okay to travel or do you want a sickbag!

Skye looks at Maggie then back at Mr Johnson

SKYE

I think I’ll be fine!

INT, MAGGIE’S BEDROOM-NIGHT

Maggie is sitting on her bed and she is talking to the people watching about the episode they saw.

MAGGIE

Hello!, in this weeks episode I forgot my trip money so now I owe Skye a dollar and I wil pay her back when I see her at school again so if you owe anyone any money pay as soon as you can that way you remain friends and the burden is lifted, see you next time!

FADE TO CREDITS

#the simpsons fanfiction

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jr4de · 6 years

Text

Fic Writing Meme

@redcap3 tagged me, and I always love things like this!

What is your total word count on AO3?

844536, coming up on a year of writing. I was kinda hoping to break a million words in a year, but things at work and in real life have meant a fairly slow month so that may well not happen. However! I suppose I have two or three chapters of several things written, so I guess I could always post those if I wanted to pad it out XD

How often do you write?

I try to write every day, but that doesn’t always happen. Usually I can get some out, though - and amount written varies from day to day of course. Some days I’ll go at it in all the free time I have and only end up with a thousand words, sometimes I’ll knock out a complete 7500 word fic in an hour and a half, just depends, heh.

Do you have a routine for writing?

MUSIC! That’s about it, really; sit somewhere - at home, coffee shop, what have you - and put on some headphones and start playing some music. I joke that playing it louder forces words out of my fingers faster (because of the increased pressure in my ears, right? XD).

All kinds of music, usually just shuffling my library or a large chunk of it - lots of people say they need instrumentals, but I’m happy with whatever. Vocal, instrumental, pop, rock, synth, classical, all kindsa stuff. Often I’ll tailor the musical selection somewhat to the subject matter - SoaOW was written to lots of Depeche Mode, Shiny Toy Guns, Fad Gadget; slightly strained and synthy stuff to go with the neo-dystopian setting, y’know?

What are your favorite kinks/tropes/pairing?

Hmmm. Well, I suppose I’d say “not necessarily”. I don’t think I’d say that I’ve written particularly much in the way of kink-driven stuff, although what I’ve considered has been rooted in character anyway in a way that- well, I don’t know if it’d exactly count, but I suppose someone can tell me when I write it, heh.

Tropes? I like some tropes, I like when they’re used fairly subtly; one that I think will usually be found in my works is that the good guy wins. People don’t die (and stay dead) for no reason!

(...and yes, the “and stay dead” is definitely important because I am known to occasionally kill or nearly-kill good characters for uh... well, just go read BSN or SoaOW if you want to see XD but they don’t stay dead!)

Pairings? Oy, just fuck me up. I love ‘em. I've got a soft spot for polyamorous groups given my own real-life Venn intersection there, heh. One that has a special place in my heart, certainly, is Winston/Orisa - for two reasons: one, I have written the only fic with that ship so far on Ao3, and two, every single person who has ever commented on it has said the same thing which essentially amounts to “Okay, when you said Winston/Orisa, I was dubious, but these two are so freaking cute!” And you know what? They really are.

Do you have a favorite fic of yours?

Oh dear, favourite? “Favourite ______” is a sure-fire way to make me waffle for a good long time, haha!

I think my favourite in general will probably be “Both Sides Now”, for now - almost a half-million words of action and interpersonal relationships, weaving in backstory for Overwatch’s earlier days and fall. I don’t think it’s the be-all and end-all, though, not nearly.

I think... my favourite underrated fic of mine is “Used to Be”. It’s a shorter thing, introspective and reflective, Fareeha sitting at Ana’s grave and wondering over what their life was like, and wondering why she hasn’t cried since the funeral. I just really like how the portrayal of Ana as a beleaguered and wearied mother and soldier came out, and the way it dealt with grief. I like the turnaround and how the ending mirrors the beginning, and several little turns of phrase in it, and I think it’s not got particularly much notice because there’s no romantic ship involved. Just a daughter and her mother who she misses, but doesn’t know quite how to deal with that feeling.

Your fic with the most kudos?

“Both Sides Now”, hands down. “Streets of an Orphaned World” is holding at around two-thirds of that, my nearest contender, but it’s been finished so long that it’s highly, highly unlikely to close the gap in my opinion XD

Anything you don’t like about your writing?

Honestly, it depends on the day. When I’m having good days, then it’s all pretty great - but when I’m having bad days? Uh, everything. The description’s somehow simultaneously pedantically excessive and still inadequately sparse, the dialogue’s choppy, the prose is stilted, words are overused, aaaaaand basically it sucks XD

...but that’s just the bad days. Most days? Most days I like it pretty well, but I’d say a commons ticking point with me is this: the length.

Don’t get me wrong, I like being able to write longer things, but I would also dearly love the ability to write short ones. I can write a 20k fic in two days, and I have done as much, but writing something short? Writing a chaptered work that doesn’t break sextuple digits? That’s really fucking hard for me. I would love to be able to write shorter stuff, but it just takes an absurd amount of effort for me to do so.

Now something you do like?

Hmm. I think I have some good lines. Some good points. Overall, I’d say... the flow. I think I have fluid writing, that can kinda sweep you away if you let it - to the point where you maybe don’t think about how long it’s been since somebody talked, or how long this paragraph of thoughts has been carrying on, where you don’t think about the chapters and the pages and the words until you realize that you’ve read a hundred thousand words already and yet, still, you’re only a quarter of the way through.

I like that.

I like my dialogue, even though I know a lot of what I write in it is stuff that, it is said, should not be written in dialogue. I have misspoken words, and epithets, and pauses and lots and lots of punctuation - em-dashes and semicolons, chunks of word broken up by actions, italics and emphatics because that is how people speak in my world. The people around me gesture. They squint. They get halfway through a word, stop, frown, shake their head and start again from the beginning. They shout. They make up words. They use pet names, or teasing ones, or whatever else.

I like that.

Most of all, though, I think what I like about my writing - what I hope for, and what I always love to hear confirmed when I get feedback - is that it makes people think. Somewhat, sometimes, about some things. Or at least about some thing, singular, because I want it to be fun and enjoyable but I’d also like it to do something.

If someone can read my Satya/Symmetra, and walk away with maybe just a slightly more in-depth view of what Autism might entail in an everyday space, what it’s like maybe when their classmate or friend or family member or lover is having a bit of an issue, a bit of A Problem, and if that person can then maybe bring that understanding and make things a little better, that’s what I want. I like that.

If someone can read my Amélie/Widowmaker, and gain maybe a bit of a deeper understanding for trauma or sociopathy, that lack of what we might sometimes call basic human empathy, and realize that lacking that doesn’t inherently make somebody a bad person - that’s what I want, I like that. If someone can read any of my old guard - Torb, Ana, Rein, Jack, Gabe - and see something new about PTSD, or see the same in Tracer; if they can get some calm from Zenyatta or some hope from Tracer or some anything, from any of them, from me, then that’s what I want.

What do I like about my writing? That people take it away with them. That they take it, and they cut out the bits that they love, and they carry those bits around right next to their heart.

I love that.

Tagging people! @madame-kiksters @oinkyblanketpig @thesoundofthunderstorms @app-jelly @twoheartedalien2-0 Sure, those seem like some good folks; do this if you want! If you don’t, don’t! I’m not your real mom. XD

#writing #My writing #about writing #Pleased with numerous bits of this #Because today is a Good Day(tm)#facts about me #bzarcher #fanfiction

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wifflum · 5 years

Text

Excerpts of Guild Wars 2 chat, from the most entertaining guy there.

Me: So, something that’s really dumb, that Japanese musicians do:

They speak some of the lyrics in English, and it’s like they just, suddenly, are reading from a piece of paper.

Call me crazy, but I’d rather not listen to your vocalist suddenly mangle a language they can barely speak, while they’re supposed to be pleasing to hear.

[Noticing what I just said:] Laughing my ass off.

Guy: What’s this about?

Me: I listen to Japanese music, like what would be on the radio in Japan.

It’s amazing, but that thing, where they speak English, is the dumbest thing.

Another guy: Yes. Y E S.

-------------------------------------------------------

[Talking about two people’s reaction to someone else’s typo:]

Gosh, he misspelled something; let me get a half-gallon jug to catch my tears.

-------------------------------------------------------

First thing I see when getting to chat: You must have some serious autism.

Me: And instantly I know who’s in the wrong, in whatever this conversation is about.

Private chat to the guy: You’re a douchebag.

Guy: I was replying to the guy [who was] saying you need a college degree to craft a weapon.

Me: That’s cool. Guess who is the douche though.

Me, a little later: Dear internet stereotypes who probably come here straight from Reddit. Let’s stop saying anyone who doesn’t share your opinion is autistic, like as your default response. Someone who isn’t secretly an idiot would try to figure out why they have that opinion.

Guy again: If you think crafting a weapon in this game requires a college degree, you are retarded.

Me: You actually took that literally? Are YOU retarded? I mean that looks like actual Asperger’s to me.

Guy: Who’s the one getting offended at me insulting someone in a video game?

Me: I like the “in a video game” part.

Guy: Getting personally offended enough to insult me in [private chat].

Me: I didn’t know if you said that in my last game or this chat.

Guy: You seem like an angry individual.

Me: However, Captain Hypocrisy, It’s a video game, remember? Why do you care? I should be able to verbally abuse you until your eyes bleed, because it’s just a video game. Right, [guy]?

Guy: Sure, go ahead.

Me: Alright, then stop whining about it.

Guy: You are the person whining and getting offended, I just pointed it out.

Me: Except that doesn’t matter. Anyway, you apologize to me and explain what you’ll do differently in the future while I go smoke at my window. Be right back.

Silence, then me: By the way, that guy is obviously new, and the game doesn’t tell you anything. He probably looked up how to make an ascended weapon and that DOES take a college degree, like Jesus Christ man. [Trying to say, “Jesus Christ, is it hard to craft those. Even to learn how.”] Back to cigarette.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Guy: If you touch me, I’ll moan.

Me: That would be funny to hear as a threat in real life.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Me: Okay, here’s a thing I’m really getting sick of in people: Protecting others from recovery. Maybe someone has a trauma in their life, and you made a joke about it; now you burn in torment for all ages.

I’M TRAUMATIZED TO SHIT. I CAN HANDLE STUFF. Cus I don’t cower in terror when I hear things. Well, usually. And if I do I know I need to get stronger.

Infantilizing victims of trauma. As a victim of trauma, like more than you could believe, I’d rather not be TREATED LIKE A CHILD. THANK YOU.

See, this is why we need the people being defended to be allowed to speak for themselves. Because they don’t share in your self-righteous, authoritarian, judgmental bullshit.

Guy: Is this what you do all day?

Me: I got interesting stuff to say, and nothing else to do. Why not?

Guy: Like, do you even play the game? Or just sit in the lobby and spout random stuff no one cares about.

Me, ranting: Plus, you’re all lost lambs without any guidance, stumbling into traps and pitfalls every split second. Mainly with pitchforks in-hand to impale others with as you fall.

Responding to him: I do play, but I don’t like playing a bunch of games in a row.

-------------------------------------

[After lying to someone and giving him plenty of warning that I was lying, telling him to stare at me for 20 minutes and I’d do what he’s begging people to do.]

Me: Hey. Get back here. It’s only been 2 minutes.

I think doing bad things is perfectly okay. Quote that out of context-- If you give a lot of warning. Cus it’s like a test. I think it’s dishonor and dishonesty that really matters. Oh, and you can’t be merciless, ever. Gotta be ready to forgive and all that.

If your goal is to help someone you’ll always do good, even while like, hurting them. Just my thoughts.

Which, by the way, isn’t remotely crazy, if anyone balked at that like a doofus. We have F’s and D’s, and law, because of what I said. Like, grades, the letters.

I cannot fathom the world after all you goody-two-shoes types become parents. Your kid’s gonna stomp on your head while you sleep and you’ll tell him it’s okay.

---------------------------------------

[Here’s “community” for you. This person sent me a private message, and we talked privately.]

Mortal enemy from now on: That’s not nice to bully little newbies. We saw screenshots on the conversation. It’s not my business but you should not do that too much, especially on pvp because this is a very salty place xD.

Me: Hm? I don’t know uh… Okay, what? Context please. You being like, “We care so much,” does not make me care.

Enemy: Someone just posted the screenshot and complained on a guild discord; it looks like it was recent. [Cowardice here] As I said, not my business xD. [The faces really sell the cowardice.]

Me: Alright, what was in it? You already made it [your business], duh. But, what was so bad that they took a picture, laughing my ass off. Ah… that’s funny.

Enemy, hedging bets: Well, I don’t judge; people should not complain like that too.

Me, trying to figure it out on my own: So I said, “What kind of furry plays Charr Mesmer?”

Future victim of my infinite wrath and spite: Nothing, just basic pvp match arguments and stuff.

Me: Alright, well, Jesus dude. Don’t tell me this shit if you’re not even trying to help. Just warning me about how powerful your guild is, and I should care if “we care”.

Her (I think she’s a girl. Not sure.): Well it’s pvp. I can’t help, haha.

Me: Tell your guild I’m coming after them.

Her: That’s pvp, low elo (What? Elo?); the more it’s low, the more people are salty.

Me: Tell your guild that telling me “they saw it,” [to threaten me], makes me want to spit on them. You do that for me.

Her: Well it’s a very big guild based on a Facebook group with 23,000 players; don’t come after them. Plus, no one cares. I was just connected to the Discord.

Me: K.

Her: But I don’t really care about this xD [PUT A GRENADE. IN THE MOUTH. OF THAT FACE.]

Me: Just tell your guild, the guy in the screenshot, wants them to suffer.

Her: Well, as I said, 23,000 people on Facebook. Have fun making them all suffer. That’s just a newbie. And I see you’re new too, [This is just elitism, because I’m not. Haven’t played 40 gajillion hours is probably what she means.] but if you lose your time arguing on pvp with people like this you’ll lose tons of time. [Bitch, I’m here TO DO THAT. Lol.] That’s pvp. That’s like arguing on League of Legends.

Me: What’s your guild’s name?

Her: Mine? I’m just on the discord, lol. And, if you want the Facebook group, it’s Guild Wars 2, on Facebook.

Me: No, a way to target them in-game.

Her, emphasizing how VERY POWERFUL this EMPIRE is: 23,000 persons. Well, that’s not the biggest group on Facebook. [BETTER-- ...grrrrrr... ] Better not to have a bad reputation. It’s mostly us. (Huh?)

Me: Do you still think I care? Honestly? I’ll take down your little empire of squalor.

Her: You should, it’s easy to have a bad game experience like this xD. [Really going for the threat now, then the face in order to backpedal ahead of time.]

Me: Do not. Care.

Her: Sure. You already have a bad reputation by now, lol. Don’t make it worse. You’re just a newbie. Arguing with other newbies.

Me: Alright, you’re becoming a nuisance with your cowardice. Tell me how to recognize your SUPER POWERFUL OMEGA guild, so I can start pulling it apart, or do not continue talking to me.

[We were talking over each other at this point.]

Her: Well that’s easy. Join the Facebook group, then you’ll see. But don’t make you a bad (??) reputation or it would be sad xD [These faces are like the epitome of cowardice. I want that to be known. Just picture someone making expressions like that while threatening you; it would be disgusting. Makes me think of some very angry kid from the anime club.]

Me: Well, I deleted Facebook a while ago, so.

Her: Ah, well. I see.

Me: Okay, here’s what I want you to do: Go the group; make sure I have a bad reputation.

Her: Lol, why would I do that?

Me: ...and see the amount of fucks I am able to produce in response. If it’s so bad, see if it affects me. You’re going to threaten that OVER AND OVER-- do it. God, you bloody, incredible coward. Get out of my sight, now. [Blocked her and was shaking a bit while I smoked.]

[Returning to the town square place.]

[New mortal enemy’s name] just threatened me with the wrath of her Facebook group. I asked how I can target them in game, and she would not tell me. Then I called her an incredible coward and said “Get out of my sight, now.”

Random guy: Tell them they’d have to go through the sweatlords of pvp.

Me: Tell them to burn in hellfire. I’m getting the oil. GRRR. Back to pve [Or, I’m leaving the town square again.]

------------------------------------------------------------------

Alright that’s enough Guild Wars 2 quotes. I’m out of the pvp lobby, or the town square, where all the chat takes place. Apparently you can get a bug, doing pvp, that will just break your game to pieces for hours. It’s been spreading like a virus; I’m hearing about it a lot now.

Edit just before posting to Tumblr: I KNOW. WHERE THIS CAME FROM. I had an argument with some kid who kept being like “Here’s how good I am at the game. I can treat everyone like shit because I am good.” And I said, “How about you value yourself as a person by your character, instead of that bullshit?” Then called him human garbage, lol.

#guild wars 2 #internet chat #rage #my infinite malice and malevolence will be felt by all who inhabit this world

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equinoxts2 · 7 years

Text

10 Questions Meme

I was tagged by @shannonsimsfan and @starrsim :)

Rules: Always post the rules, answer the questions given to you, then write 10 questions of your own, and tag some friends!

Because I was tagged twice and I tend to ramble on, here’s a cut.

Starr’s Questions:

1) How long have you’ve been playing the sims franchise? No idea... about 13 years? My first Sims game was Bustin’ Out for PS2, then my uncle gave me a copy of TS1 Complete Collection which was promptly installed on my late Mac, Terry. I started playing TS2 when OFB was the newest expansion. So yeah... more than half my life.

2) Do you have a favorite sim? why? I love all my Sims! I’ll admit there are some I’d be more likely to reroll a death ROS for than others, but I’m not naming any names. If I do the others will get me. :P

3) What’s your favorite sims career? I don’t really use careers in my game, since Kulo Seeri isn’t the sort of hood that has them. My Sims do have professions and crafts, and I think the one I enjoy most out of them is the not-quite-school run by Otolo zan-Ave and Markal Go. I haven’t shown it on my blog yet, but basically the two elders summon the village kids to their lot with Simlogical’s meeting controller. They offer lessons on various subjects using Sophie-David’s opportunity objects (usually invisible) but for most of the time the kids just run wild together and make friends, enemies and occasionally childhood sweethearts.

4) What’s your CC weakness? Rugs, paintings, hair, etc? CC in general! My good old external hard drive Trixie contains *checks* 190 GB of hoarded stuff. Most of it I will probably never use, but it’s there in case I ever need any of it. This is a side effect of my hoarder nature and obsession with TS2 and I’m not ashamed of it in the slightest. Fun fact: That same hoarder-obsessive nature applies to dice. I have over 1000. Dicedicedicedice... yay :)

5) What aspect of the game have you not played with, or tried, yet? Businesses, vacation hoods, or university. I’ve been wanting to experiment with them for a while but they fit into Kulo Seeri like a foot into a glove. However, that doesn’t stop me occasionally trying to shoehorn bits in - an in-hood “university” might be a possibility for KS, maybe representing a craft apprenticeship. I will have to test that out.

6) When do you usually play? When I’m awake. No kidding - since I’m unable to work due to a combination of autism, depression, social anxiety, semi-regular bouts of ill health, several debilitating phobias and a distaste for the “cog in the machine” life, I am essentially a professional Simmer.

7) What’s your simming routin? (settle in with a drink and a few hours, keep the game open for days, etc) Play in bursts throughout the day, occasionally taking screen breaks to play board games or dice games or kick ideas around with my mum, or to snooze.

8) Do you talk sims with others outside the simming community? My mum and support workers, yes. My mum is probably the non-Simmer who knows most about the game - when she’s home, she’s my go-to person to bat around ideas for KS.

9) Besides tumblr, how else do you interact with the simming community? Through my story blog on Blogger, and also through Plumb Bob Keep and Garden of Shadows’ forums. I don’t know any other Simmers personally, only through the forums and blogs.

10) Why the sims vs other games? It’s pure escapism for me - it lets me immerse myself in another setting without being too focused on achieving certain objectives (the reason I could never get into computer RPGs and still haven’t completely warmed to TS4). I love being able to customise pretty much everything the game has to offer and create new worlds to explore through the eyes of my Sims.

Shannon’s Questions:

1) When you’re playing, do you have the game music on or off? Sometimes I listen to my own music while I’m building, and my Sims don’t really have stereos, so mostly off. I do have a few disguised/invisible stereos but I don’t use them much, and I have - thanks to a tutorial by @greatcheesecakepersona - added my Unofficial Kulo Seeri Playlist to the selection of loading tunes.

2) How long have you been playing your current hood? In one form or another, Kulo Seeri has been around for ten years. I started it in April 2007 as a third rate legacy, and it ended up taking me in all sorts of directions I never expected. It’s currently on Generation 7 and has a lot of in-game history, folklore and dreaming behind it. I love it to bits <3

3) Uh-oh! Your game just exploded: are you going to rebuild or start afresh? Rebuild, of course. I couldn’t imagine being without Kulo Seeri after all this time. Although I’ve rebuilt it what feels like a million times and hate setup and hoodlessness, I’m still too invested in it to let it go.

4) What is your favourite Sims version and why? Sims 2, of course! It’s pure sandbox fun, easy to customise and remove from the default modern setting, lends itself well to a huge variety of playstyles, and IMO it’s got more heart than 3 and 4 put together.

5) What’s an expansion you’d love to see that EA never did for any version of the game? I have to second Shannon’s idea of a prehistoric-style one. I’d also love to see more ways for younger Sims to act out that don’t require modern vehicles or technology.

6) Do you use cheats (apart from building cheats) when you play? Yes, not too often because I enjoy having a challenge, but I do use money cheats (KS doesn’t have money, so I always give them enough to move into their homes) and mood cheats (when I can’t stand to see a struggling family suffer any longer, or I need a Sim to stay awake for a photo opportunity).

7) Do you consider yourself primarily a player, builder or decorator? Or other? Player first, storyteller second, don’t touch Build Mode unless I have to. I’m not bad at building, landscaping or decorating... I just find it tedious and avoid it.

8) Do you play pre-mades, your own sims or a mix? Most of my Sims were born in Kulo Seeri, with a handful of premade Sims (mostly from TS3 hoods) who have moved there over the years. Some of my Sims originate from other players’ games, too.

9) What is your favourite kind of business to run? Or what kind would you like to run, if your game version allowed it? Hmm. Never really done much with businesses, but I’d like to have a small trading post of some sort in Kulo Seeri, once the population reaches the point where it splits into two villages. However, KS culture regards trade as the most unclean occupation, so I’m not sure who’d run it.

10) If you were a sim, what would be your aspiration and lifetime want? Feel free to translate that to your own game version - I only speak TS2! My aspiration is Pleasure/Knowledge, with the Pleasure bit being more “stay at home and play games all day” than “go out clubbing and dating”, and the Knowledge bit being limited to my major obsessions: Sims, dice, notebooks, vintage 90′s My Little Ponies, and Plants vs. Zombies. But my LTW would be "reach golden anniversary” - I am a hopeless romantic despite my asexuality, and I’m fed up of getting close to people (mostly support workers and therapists) and then never seeing them again. I want a long-term partnership like my parents have (over 30 years and counting!) with someone who isn’t a support worker or a therapist or other person who listens to my problems partly because it’s their job.

11) What do you think Sims 5 will be like? *VT Cynic Powers Activate!* It will probably feel more mechanical and repetitive than TS4, and be more goal-orientated than sandbox play. It will probably also have more online features and in-game ads. The hoods or worlds or towns or whatever they’ll be calling them by then will be harder to customise, be designed for legacy style play with some form of annoying story progression, and feature several familiar TS2 premades warped beyond recognition. Modders will find that game behaviour will be much harder to alter, because EA will want to stop fans adding new features so they can release said features as overpriced add-on packs. It will run on patch levels which will force players to update every five minutes, then sneak little bits of the latest pack’s coding into games that don’t have it installed, so that everyone has to have ALL THE PACKS for it to work correctly. (This was one of my major gripes with TS3 patch levels - and then TS4 topped that by adding new functionality into the stuff packs.)

....rant over, time for bed. :)

As for writing questions and tagging other Simmers, that is one area where I fall down, so I’ll leave it there. But thanks again to Shannon & Starr for the tags!

#meme #sims meme #rambly post

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autistic-characters-of-the-day · 7 years

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I told my sister about the Monica Geller headcanon, and she says that Monica is just a Type A person and we should say we relate to the traits, but not the character because it takes away from others who relate to her for other reasons, but like allistics have a zillion characters they can relate to. She also said that there's no way they'd write an autistic character in the 90s. Uh. I dunno if it's just me, but I detect a slight amount of ableism in that logic. :/

I’d say that there’s slight ableism there but it seems internalized rather than outright blatant ableism. It’s probably something your sister is unconscious of and should try to unlearn, especially if she’s allistic (not autistic).

If she’s allistic, then she can’t speak for autistic people and it’s important for her to know that if she does or tries to, then she’s just erasing our voices for her own abled one.

However, again, I wouldn’t call that outright ableism but it does seem internalized to erase a headcanon and a character for her own needs.

Also she’s wrong as there are quite a few shows and movies from the 90′s about/with a autistic character. The only issue is that almost none of them present autism in an accurate light in the slightest because it wasn’t as understood back then as it is now.

I’ll give examples below but tw for ableism for a few of them (I am NOT supporting these films and I have never seen them; I am merely giving examples to prove your sister wrong. Even if they’re not the best examples, they’re still examples of media from the 90′s with canon autism):

Take the movie “Molly” (1999) for example: “A bachelor becomes the unwilling guardian of his autistic, intellectually disabled sister; then an experimental treatment works a dramatic change in her brain and his attitude.” Clearly this one is blatantly ableist my fucking god. Again I do not support ableist films, I’m just giving examples.

Or “Silent Fall” (1994): “An autistic boy witnesses his parents’ double murder. Richard Dreyfuss as a controversial therapist, seeks to probe the child’s mind in order to solve the case.”

“Mercury Rising” (1998): “Shadowy elements in the NSA target a nine-year old autistic savant for death when he is able to decipher a top secret code.”

“David’s Mother” (1994): “A woman estranged from her husband and family insists on caring for her autistic son alone.”

“Rain Man” (1988) yes this isn’t a 90′s film it’s even earlier: “Selfish yuppie Charlie Babbitt’s father left a fortune to his savant brother Raymond and a pittance to Charlie; they travel cross-country.” Now the summary on IMDB doesn’t talk about autism but here’s another summary that does: “It tells the story of an abrasive, selfish young wheeler-dealer, Charlie Babbitt, who discovers that his estranged father has died and bequeathed all of his multimillion-dollar estate to his other son, Raymond, an autistic savant, of whose existence Charlie was unaware.” Note: “Savant” seemed to be a term for “autistic” back in the 80′s and the wikipedia page for Rain Man goes over how this term is inaccurate as fuck at least so there’s that.

But anyways there’s a shit ton I could list so I’ll just give you the list. It includes films from the 80′s, 90′s, and 2000′s.

Again, if a film is inaccurate or ableist, I do NOT at all support it. But your sister is wrong because there are quite a few characters from the 90′s who are autistic (not as much as allistic characters obviously and the representation sucked ass because of prejudice and ableism, but it’s still quite a bit for an era that was prejudiced against autism… which many people still are today).

I’d maybe show my response to her lmao or at least the part that lists a bunch of films from the 80′s, 90′s, and 2000′s with autistic characters in it.

#Anonymous #answered

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