Gooood evening gamers! It's currently so late it's becoming early for me! And I, the full-time fool, genuinely, GENUINELY believed that Chapter 3 of my CTRL-ALT-DEL-AU (Best Damn Listener in this Whole Digital World) fic would be shorter and easier and faster than the previous two chapters. I thought, 'well, I only have three-ish scenes left in episode 4 that I want to cover, so this chapter will only be 5,000 words? Maybe? Give or take? That shouldn't take long to write.'
I actually believed that.
Like a fool. A BUFFOON!
(seriously it's so long, it's longer than chapter 2. Rsdgjhdslhf- idk what's happening to me, the hyperfixation is taking over)
It's not finished, but I'm getting closer, I promise!
In the meantime, more teasers! (TW: implied ableism)
I hope this is enough to gnaw on while I finish it up!
I am honestly blown away at how much support my work is getting, I just started writing because the ideas wouldn't leave my brain. I never expected anything I wrote to mean anything to anyone, so the fact that so many people care, it means a lot to me.
Every single comment, on ao3, the chapters posted on Tumblr, or even just on these little teasers, I've read, and they all make my day. Thank you all so much.
And thanks to @ctrl-alt-del-au for making this au so much fun to write, it really brings out compelling dynamics and themes for these characters and I'm absolutely eating it up
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@suncast-moth(I hope it's ok to tag you) YES I forgor Seth, Pac-man (to this canon) canonically will be called Seth now!
Red is Chatter* and Caine
Blue is Bubble and Abel
Pac-man is Yellow and Seth
*? I remember hearing about a post by Goozeworx about what Ciane would be called if he were just a head and I think it was Chatterbox but I don't really know...
wasnt gonna talk ab it here but we kinda dont have anyone to talk about it (vent , tw for possible ableism ? still figuring out what happened)
im pretty sure we almost got fired today. ↓
i wanted us to take a break because we forgot our heart, pain and blood medicine.
i asked our brother whos the main cook on the shift if we could sit down because we were in a lot of pain. i then bought some food so we can regain more energy. our boss did not like that at all. i kept asking our brother if he needed help but he said no its ok take your break
then our boss showed up, and instead of telling us anything he decided to talk about how irresponsible we were being to our brother IN FRONT OF US. he said we cant afford breaks since we barely work three hours a day (because of our disability) and that he shouldn't let us take breaks like that. he said if were not gonna work then we should just leave.
we ended up getting back up without being able to finish our meal and went back despite our pain. i was silently crying so much from it.
when we were clocking out, he pulled us aside telling us how he cant have us doing a half assed job because we barely work and that we have to work better next time.
he also said we "shouldnt just eat free food whenever we wanted" and said we shouldnt have ate because we're stealing from the business??? but we paid for our food?? and told us we should have asked him for permission.
so we ended up leaving work with me sobbing our eyes out because of everything he said to us. we worked this body to exhaustion to keep doing our job. we came in sick, in pain, even when we couldnt stand. and the one time we willingly take a break and suddenly we're just the employee that does a half assed job and risks everybody's job with our behavior??
i always knew they looked down on us for our ability to do our job but i couldnt imagine this. i feel so awful. luckily we went to celebrate our friend's birthday after work so that helped me calm down. i dont want to come back after that. am i overreacting?? am i being reasonable? i dont know but i dont feel safe for us to be there anymore because of our disabilities. if they can't handle us having a break, what will happen if our condition got worse?
im going to talk about this with our mom and see what she thinks, shes been wanting us to leave anyways because we've been struggling healthwise and with our disability claim. 🐹🪽
Ughh... can't go into ANY LSN comment section to say my peace without some speaking privegledged person finding what I say offensive just proves how truly divided the autistic community actually is. There's so much division its insane jules just not understand why autistic community can never agree on a single thing without starting conflict and that sadly is part of any minority group when considering community discourse. But I mean I should've expected this. Either way lost another argument with a LSN autistic who has situational mutism and why im the asshole for "gatekeeping" the nonverbal term for only us nonverbal/nonspeaking autistics. Like In NO WAY SHAPE OR FORM DID I IMPLY that this person was not actually autistic. I was just simply stating if it doesnt disable you then its not really autism. If you need even LOW support needs that not mean NO support needs. Cloud understands that its also hard on level 1 autistics who call themselves "high functioning" the person thinks that high functioning is the same as high masking but its really not level one autistics are not high functioning they still struggle (I know this cause my best online friend nonspeaking ally is level 1 and he needs supports) but he not think hes high functioning he just think he high masking but comes with huge price to high mask which jules cannot mask high at all or at all period. If anything can only ignore my needs so appear more resilient but cost jules to do that and jules end up paying for it after by meltdown or shutdown they called me highly ableist when I was only saying a "you" as in hypothetical generalized you person statement. Didn't know nonspeakers only wanting nonspeaking/nonverbal 24/7 people to use nonverbal term is controversial but whatever. Going nonverbal does not equate to selective mutism (as they tried to claim) it just speech loss episode. But claiming i made up term intermittently speaking when Jules not make up term not that they would know since they're more LSN-MSN and speaking priveleged. Jules not understand how my kind tip to help them know is me being ableist or me calling them not autistic. Words are just hard and anyone can focus on one word you say in comment and not focus on the whole comment context taken out of context.
"I won't let them touch you" for your dead boy detective agency boys
Thanks for the prompt friend! :D Sorry it took so long, I was at work and then I got plagued with The Insecurities
This fits the possessive side of things slightly better than the dramatic one? Idk. I feel like I've failed to comply with the rules, even though I like the snippet x)
Anyway, thanks again, and if anyone else wants to send a prompt the list is right there
The sun beats down on the town square, bright enough to hide the outside world behind a veil of golden light and turn cousin Katherine's dress into a blinding beacon of virginal purity. Whatever one thinks of the concept, Edwin admits to himself, there is no denying that summer weddings occasionally provide such vivid image as to at least explain how it may have come to be. Nevertheless, he stays away. Of his three cousins, Katherine is the one he always felt the most kinship for, and he would not have missed this ceremony for the world, and yet--Edwin's knuckles brush together, gloveless skin shot through with electricity at the realization, and Edwin jolts his hands apart again. He tries to shove them into his pockets, only to pull them out once more when he remembers not to break the lines of his navy suit. Trying to settle them at his side proves no more fruitfull: the pose feels unnatural and constrictive, as if his hands were pulling against some kind of invisible tie.
"Here," Charles says, stepping between Edwin and the aisle, the lean line of him neatly obscuring the sight of Edwin's hands. "Have at it for a minute, yeah?"
It takes a moment for Edwin to understand, and when he does hit throat immediately constricts with emotion. They have never truly talked about this quirk of Edwin's. Not in the way they perhaps should have, at any rate. It is largely Edwin's fault: for all that he has learned to pursue his interests more openly and unashamedly, there are some areas of his life he has yet to dare confront. Cut and dry is all well and good, but even he can be made to appreciate the value of ambiguity. And so: they haven't talked about it. The way Edwin's fists knead against one another without thought whenever he feels tense, the way he rarely wears less than three layers of clothing if he can help it. The way busy weeks at work make him come home impatient to shed them, the very contact of cloth against his skin so intense as to feel like pain. The way loud noises make him want to stick a pencil in his ears, sometimes.
They haven't talked about it, but Charles took note anyway, and never once expected Edwin to change. Edwin, almost overcome with gratitude, lets out a long, quiet sigh of relief, and leans forward until his forehead can rest against the back of Charles' neck.
"It's no use, you know," he sighs, murmuring to ensure his voice won't be carried out to where his paternal grandmother is slowly walking towards the door. "The minute they see--"
He does not stop himself from pressing his fists together this time. Doesn't try to ignore the tightness of his shoulder, or the beating of his heart--and because he doesn't try to pretend they aren't here, they grow smaller. More manageable, in a way, than they ever were when he was alone. Without quite meaning to, Edwin smiles down at the back of Charles' suit, red in a sea of greys and blues. Here, hidden behind Charles, Edwin knows no one will try to pull his hands apart.
"You don't worry about them," Charles says, quiet but firm. "I won't let them touch you."
Charles once slapped Edwin's father's hands in the middle of dinner at the Ritz, all for the crime of trying to stop Edwin from mashing his fists together. Edwin belives his latest proclamation immediately, and without reservation. Still:
"You cannot fight my entire family," he says, just for the pleasure of hearing Charles put on his cocky voice and retort:
"Just you watch. First one to look a little too close gets whooped on their bum."
Edwin, despite himself, finds himself chuckling, straightening up until he can look at Charles properly. The light from outside lines the edge of his cheek in golden light the hoop in his ear as bright as a halo. He is a flame in the darkness of the church, bright and warm as a fire in the hearth. Edwin, born and raised in the icy cold of a winter lake, can never get enough.
"Surely," he says, "you don't meant Granny Gladys."
"Especially Granny Gladys," Charles retorts. "I'm not gonna turn my back and let her get me with her rollator."
Edwin, with some difficulty, bites down on a burst of laughter. In front of him, Charles turns his head just far enough to flash a wicked grin, sharp and shameless in a way that makes Edwin's stomach expand into the warmest of feelings. Charles must see something in his face then, because he turns serious, hands coming up to frame Edwin's face as he looks into his eyes and says:
"I'm serious you know. If your father tries to slap your hands again, I really will send him down on his arse."
"I believe you", Edwin says, insides turning embarrassingly gooey at the fierceness of Charles' tone.
"Good," Charles says, still frowning in intensity. "There's nothing wrong with you. There's nothing wrong with your hands. I know I haven't been where I should have been--"
"Charles," Edwin interrupts, heart picking up speed with the alacrity of a racing car, "you don't--"
"No, listen to me," Charles insists, hands pulling gently at the sides of Edwin's face until their foreheads touch, "no more hand slaps. No more eye contact. I couldn't be with you these past seven years, and I'm sorry--but I'm here, now, and I don't care what anyone in your family says, as far as I'm concerned, unless you want to, you don't have to look anyone in the eye ever again."
Edwin stares, half feeling like he is about to liquefy. He feels so, so warm here in the coolness of that church, warm like the sun in spring after a long winter. Warm like a nice sweater on a winter evening. Warm like Charles' smile, like the way he only ever takes Edwin's hand in his with love, like the way the only thing he ever did with Edwin's fist was wrap his hands around them like a shield. Edwin stares, and swallows hard, and catches Charles into a crushing hug before he can do something absolutely daft like kiss him right here, where all his family could see.
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@pandalilymicrofics July Challenge Day 13: Sacred- Ft. Disability representation, CW: cynicism/criticism of religion and catholism (WC: 346)
Lily Evans had never been religious. Sure, her family was and she was raised Catholic, but she never really believed in God. Not truly.
It was difficult to believe in an all powerful and knowing being controlling every happenstance in the universe. It was hard to believe that her life had been planned, ‘ordained’, and ‘destined’ to happen exactly the way it has when she spent every day of it in pain. She was supposed to be ‘wonderfully made’, but she didn’t know what was so wonderful about having a limp when she walked and only having fifteen foods she could eat without triggering an allergic reaction.
Lily’s life was full of doctors begrudgingly ordering tests after explaining that at only nineteen she was ‘too young to have joint pain’, members of her parent’s’ congregation assuring her it was ‘all part of God’s plan’, and her older sister complaining that Lily was just faking her symptoms for attention.
There were many rituals and relics in Catholism; holy water and rosary beads, first communion and confirmation- all designed to be or make holy. Lily had never understood any of it.
Not until now. It was these quiet mornings spent in bed, waking up next to the love of her life, that reminded her why so many people did believe in God. As Pandora’s eyes opened, blinking to deter the sleep still clinging to them, and drifting over to meet hers, Lily blushed as if it was the first time they had ever lain together. Her face flushed red, growing warmer than the heating pad underneath her.
Turning slightly to cup Pandora’s face and place a soft kiss on her lips, Lily allowed herself a rare moment of gratitude. Lily still wasn’t sure she believed in God or religion of any kind, but if she was sure of anything it was Pandora.
Lily didn’t need religion. Or diagnoses. Or acceptance from the church, her sister or her peers. She had Pandora, and just maybe that made her lucky. To have a love like this. A love that’s sacred.
one of my fav designs of all time !!!!! fainéant girl by @weevildoing
tried my hand at a WHILL wheelchair but i had trouble with the angle so i hope it suffices <33 also took bg inspo directly from the sewing machine in the mewsic video
Soo jsyk if you genuinely think “narc abuse” is a valid term or if calling someone a “narcissist” is inherently synonymous with abuser dni. I dont want people demonizing disorders that are HEAVILY trauma based on my page. Yeah.
