Ok, I'm gonna start a post idea I had been pondering. If you're either mentally or physically disabled and you have opinions about representation, this is the thread for you!
So, I've been seeing more people trying to tackle the topic of autism in their stories, but I've felt some of it tries to woobify a bit what is to live with autism, or just focus on the more socially acceptable quirks of it. And as someone with autism/ADHD (was suspected of it for most of my life, got it finally diagnosed by my therapist (who specializes in autism and ADHD) last year), sometimes I'd like for people to acknowledge the more unsavoury parts of it, the weird quirks, etc.
So, this post is going to be about that- If you wanna help people understand how your disability/neurodivergency affects your life, feel free to add to it! Just mention what do you have (no need for a full list, just what you consider relevant to the post) and some experiences, quirks, anecdotes or such that you think that are not often seen in stories or media, and that you consider an important part of it. They don't need to be huge things! I encourage people to share just whatever they feel comfortable. My list is gonna be a mix of stuff, but yours can be very different. Let me start!
Clothes and how they feel was surprisingly one of the most disruptive parts of my autism. As a kid, if I was forced to wear something that caused me some bad texture/sensitivity issues, it would significantly affect my behaviour and performance. It took me many years to be allowed to use mostly sportswear. (And it turns out being a "girl" (not anymore) wearing only sportswear tends to cause a whole lot of bullying)
This happens even nowadays. I've found out that non-heeled boots are more comfortable to me than sport shoes, because feeling something against the back of my foot makes me feel overwhelmed. I tend to wear yoga pants under actual pants, because they keep the actual pants' seams from causing sensory issues. There's almost a sort of ritual on how do I need to combine clothes to be able to function "normally", mostly consisting on reducing how much they annoy me.
On that topic, hygiene is actually a huge thing too. As a kid, I wasn't allowed to shower daily. Days I didn't shower, no matter how much I tried to keep my hygiene in other days, were "bad days" to me. I would literally plan hanging out with friends or eating out around the days I was allowed to shower. I could physically feel the difference between the day I showered and the day I didn't (even if I washed my face, armpits, used the bidet, etc).
This is true even nowadays. I can thankfully now shower daily, which isn't recommended by a lot of experts (specially because it can damage your hair and skin), but it's more worth to me than having days where I feel like I shouldn't be seen in public.
Being overwhelmed sucks! Meltdowns are mostly associated with kids, mostly because adults either learn to mask them, or do everything they can to AVOID having that meltdown. I've mostly figured out routines and such. There's this one place we go eat out every other Tuesday- And in the hours we go in, there's a sort of silent corner that is always free. This week's schedule was a mess, so we went yesterday to that same place, and the silent corner was filled with a very loud group. I got extremely overwhelmed. But enough masking drilled to me means I just sat there unable to talk for maybe 30 minutes.
Autistic adults still do have autism and experience often the full spread of traits, they've just found ways to mask, or avoid being in situations where they do need to do that. I've adapted my life and routine to that. But sometimes I land on situations out of my comfort zone that will make me feel just like when I was a kid. I want to freelance online because I'm fully aware I can't perform properly in a public facing job.
Group projects sucked so much. I know they suck for most people, but most times it was easier for me to do the entirety of the project by myself and add the others' names to it than dealing with chasing people for their parts. My college had a 6-months-long massive group project in the last year, with a 7 people group, which obviously I couldn't do alone. The whole experience was so harmful in so many ways I've had several full therapy sessions talking about it :'')
One of the reasons it's because mental flexibility is HARD with autism. If i set a schedule, I expect that schedule to be followed. If people agree to do a part, I expect that part to be delivered (unless there's a proper reason) on due time. People hate this a lot usually! It will tear group projects apart!
Stimming can be harmless, or it can be very annoying to some. I tend to shake legs and play with something in my hands. I could easy this off drawing in classes- My high school found out that I was paying more attention when I was allowed to draw in classes, and my academic performance was pretty much perfect, so they gave me permission to do that.
However, I had a teacher in middle school that did forbid me from drawing. I stimmed during a class with pens- She got so mad she sent me home with a note to my parents they had to sign. Fun!
Not exactly an anecdote, but I am ace. I hate the discourse about "making an autistic person be aro or ace is infantilizing autism". Aro/ace people can have autism. That's just how it is. I've been infantilized a lot for being ace- Which only got worse because I am autistic, and people perceived some of my special interests as child-ish. The combo didn't make things easy.
On that topic, people will often be very patronizing of your opinions or takes for being autistic. I've had people debate my sexuality (or lack of thereof), my gender identity and presentation, my hobbies, my preferences for everything, down to "what do you want to eat tonight?". This isn't too different to shitty takes about how "autistic people are more prone to being affected by the trans activistsTM", because people assume autistic people can't choose on their own. Trust me: We can.
Anyhow, I'd love if this post could be a good compilation of these sort of anecdotes! I think it could help people who wanna learn more about what is it to live with specific disabilities (and how to better portray them in media)
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Now hush little baby, don't you cry, everything's gonna be alright
The idea for the fic came to me completely by accident. A friend who has a child talked about how she spends time with him. And I have no idea how to communicate with children. English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :)
Buggy and F/Reader - Masterlist is here.
Description: You and Buggy have a little daughter. The ship is moored and you go to rest, leaving Buggy with the child.
Warnings: Fun (I have no experience with kids, sorry if there are discrepancies), Buggy is practically hysterical.
Words: 1815
Taglist: @gingernut1314, @operationroots
The title is taken from “Mockingbird” by Eminem.
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“Y/N, it’s screaming again!” Buggy growled into his pillow.
“That's not it, Buggy, it's your daughter.” You muttered into his chest.
“This is your baby, velvet cake.” He buried his face in your hair.
“It’s as much mine as it is yours, Buggy.” You stroked his arm. “We made her together. Remember that night? At the end of sex you yelled that you would become king of the pirates.”
“It was good!” He reluctantly got out of bed and walked towards the crib that was located not far from your shared bed.
Inside the crib lay a little girl with Y/E/C and blue hair. Every time Buggy looked at his daughter, he was glad inside himself that she had not inherited his nose.
“What should I do with her?” He asked loudly.
“First of all, don't scream. Second of all, rock her first.”
“I'm not very good with children. Can I wait until she turns 18 and then start raising her?” Buggy looked at you as you stretched in bed. “How did I even end up with children?” He scratched his head and took the child into his arms. “So, what is next?”
“Just rock her. Like this.” You took the pillow in your hands and showed how it should be done.
“OK.” Buggy swung his daughter one way, then the other, then swung her one way again and the other again. "Seems to work, velvet cake! She cries less.”
“You see, you're doing great, my love.” You got out of bed, put on your slippers and, shuffling along the floor, approached them both. "You'll learn everything in time, Buggy. Hello, my Lily Gold." You waved to your daughter.
“It’s easy for you to say - you’ll learn.” Buggy chuckled and rolled his eyes dramatically. “You’re a woman, you know how to do it. It’s in your nature.”
“Hell, no!” You shook your head. “It just somehow happened that I had to take one under my wing to raise one.” You pecked him on the cheek. “Big.” Smack on his lips. “Capricious.” Smack on his nose. “Child. So, I’ll go wash up and make us breakfast. I also need to go to the store on the island and buy something.”
“What? Did something happen?” Buggy became noticeably nervous. “Are you feeling unwell? Is there something wrong with the baby?”
“No, no!” You softened your voice, trying to calm him down. “Don't get me wrong, I love you both, but I want to get some rest. I have a spa appoitnment.”
While you were making breakfast, Buggy sat next to you, holding your daughter in his arms. He was loudly clattering plates and mugs and yelling at anyone who came into the kitchen and spoke loudly (so it seemed to him, even though everyone was whispering). Buggy and your daughter at breakfast certainly made you smile, but at the same time it was a disaster. They were both constantly dropping things, getting messy in their food, and they both started whining if something didn't go their way. You would just roll your eyes, convincing yourself that he was the love of your life, the love you sometimes wanted to strangle. You got up from your chair, wiped their faces, and continued drinking your morning coffee.
You went to your room, Buggy and Lily followed you. He constantly asked how soon you would return, what he should do and how to get along with children in general.
“Learn, daddy! You are the culprit of this creature.” You adjusted his bandana and looked into his scared eyes. “For the record, I have no regrets. I love our family. You and our daughter. But since this will be a copy of you, I need to gain strength. That's it, I'm off. Bye, my love. Bye, Lily! I'll be back in three hours.”
“THREE HOURS???” Buggy's eyes widened, but he looked at your slightly tired face, exhaled and kissed your forehead. “Fine.”
“Bye, my captain. I love you!" You pecked him on the lips and left.
Buggy sat down on the bed, holding Lily in his arms. Fortunately, she was no longer a newborn baby, because that period was a nightmare for you. The baby was screaming all the time, Buggy was screaming all the time.
“So. What should I do with you?” Buggy took his daughter and turned her over in his hands. She laughed happily and tried to grab his nose. “No, Lily! Not the nose! We don't touch daddy's nose.” He muttered and looked around. “Oh! You're a child. You must love toys, right?”
Buggy grabbed Lily in his arms, walked with her to the toys and put her on the floor. “Who do you want to play, me sweet candy? Pony? Lamb? Pig?" He sorted through the toys and showed them one by one.
The girl looked at her father with batted eyes and grabbed his nose again.
“Fuck! Lily Gold! You can't touch daddy's nose!” Buggy leaned back a little.
“Honk!” Lily said and pointed to her nose. “Dad. Nose. Honk.”
Buggy looked at his daughter doomedly. “Do you want dad to make a honk with his nose? Maybe you’ll choose the lamb?”
She shook her head, made a face and crossed her arms.
He rolled his eyes, growled and said a dissatisfied “okay”, squeezing his nose so that it made a sound. “You like your mother, love to do this with me. Well, Lily. What else do you want to do?”
Buggy tilted his head and looked at his daughter. “Thank God you don't have my nose." He took her in his arms and said in a whisper. “But daddy will always protect you. You and your mom. I never let someone hurt you, my biggest treasure." Buggy kissed his daughter on the top of the head.
Lily got off his feet, took the ball and handed it to him.
“Lily Gold, daddy doesn't know how to make balloon dogs.” Buggy shrugged.
She immediately made a face again and began to scream, and cry.
Buggy rolled his eyes and hissed through his teeth . “Mother fuc~. Okay, I'll do it, just stop yelling!" He took the balloon, somehow inflated it and made something that vaguely resembled a dog. He gave it into his daughter's hands, and the balloon immediately burst. And Lily yelled even louder.
“Fu-u-ck! What does your mother do at such moments?” Buggy grabbed his head.
At that moment, one of the freaks knocked on the cabin. “Captain?!”
“WHAT?!” Buggy barked and went to the door.
“We are almost replenished, and we know where the Straw Hat's are going.” The freak gave him papers.
“I don't give a fuck about the Straw Hat right now.” He threw the papers back in the man's face. “I'm sitting with the daughter while Y/N is away.”
“Excuse me, Captian, you're not sitting with your daughter.” The freak shook his head.
“What? What are you talking about! Here s~.” Buggy pointed his finger at the place where he was sitting a couple of minutes ago.
“Where? Where's she? Where's the baby?” He grabbed the freak by the clothes and started shaking him. “Where is my daughter?”
“I don't know, Capta-a-in!!” The freak's head was bobbing like a bobblehead.
“Oh, fuck!! Oh, fuck!! Y/N will kill me. She will kill me!” Buggy grabbed his head and began to rush around the room. “Get out of the way!” He threw the freak aside and ran out of the cabin.
Buggy practically ran around the ship, calling his daughter's name in a whisper. He was afraid that you might appear earlier. He turned the corner and saw blue hair flash.
“Gotcha!” Buggy hugged Lily tighter and picked her up. “How did you manage to escape? For year and a half, you are a very fast girl! Don't scare dad like that again, okay?”
“Richie! Richie!” Lily grabbed Buggy by the hair and began to pull.
“Ouch! No-o-o! We're not going to Richie, Lily! He's probably sleeping.” Buggy carried the girl back to the cabin and sat her on the bed. “I don’t know what to do with you. Do you want to draw? Let’s draw!” He took out pencils and sheets of paper and gave them to her.
“Richie!” Lily threw everything on the floor.
“OK.” He scratched his head and looked around, “Do you want to play balll? Let's play ball!” He gave Lily a small yellow ball. “See? Are you happy? Please, my sweet candy, show daddy your happy face!”
“Richie!!” Lily threw the ball in Buggy's face.
“Damn!” He rubbed his forehead. “What should I do with you?!” Buggy grabbed his head and was ready to scream. “I know! Let daddy show you some chop chop tricks!” He separated his hand and gave it into his daughter's hands. “You see how dad can do it? Cool? Please, say it’s cool!!” Buggy was on the verge of hysterics.
“RICHIE!!!” Lily stomped her foot and threw her hand at Buggy's face.
“Fuck!” He attached his hand back. “Okay. Do you want to see Richie? Let's go to see Richie. Maybe he'll finally eat daddy.” Buggy muttered under his breath, took Lily in his arms and walked down the ship.
They entered the room where the lion was sitting, and Buggy put the girl on the floor. Lily looked at him and smiled.
“What? Why are you smiling? Finally satisfied, little s~?” He crossed his arms.
“Richie-e-e!” Lily happily ran towards the lion and began to try to climb onto him.
Buggy smiled and approached his daughter. He helped her climb up the lion and watched carefully to make sure she didn't fall. “That’s my girl! I'm so pr~”
“What are you doing here?” Buggy heard your voice behind him. “I came to the cabin, and your freaks told me that you were with Richie.” You walked up to Buggy and kissed him on the cheek. “How are you?”
“We’re great. It’s easy to sit with kids. I don't understand why you're complaining.”
“Liar.” You hugged him and placed your head on his shoulder.
“Has it been three hours already?” Buggy wrapped his arm around your waist.
“No. Just an hour. It turns out that I have a spa appointment for tomorrow. So you’ll have to sit with Lily tomorrow. By the way, I bought you a gift. Whiskey!” You pulled the bottle out from behind your back. “I also thought that maybe we could leave Lily to someone from the crew today and spend some time together? What do you think?” You snuggled closer to him and winked.
“I like this idea. And you know what I was thinking of, my velvet cake?” Buggy looked at you with the corner of his eye, glancing at Lily.
“About what, my beloved Captain?” You asked softly and ran your fingers along his neck.
“Let’s have another child?!”
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Triple Threat Time
The Terror Trio
Legend, Hyrule, and Wild are known as the Triple Threat and I love them.
@breannasfluff for you, m'lady
Legend and Wild
These two are the most over looked.
And from the very beginning, we have a ton of examples of them just. Being. Near each other.
Like magnets
We can trace back to the moment these two really connected and spent more time with each other... which was of COURSE over girlfriend trauma
That's one of our first Legend being soft moments, showing true empathy. And Wild found that Legend could be understanding of his hurt- this is where they connected beyond just being closer than most
The main point in the plot with Legend and Wild is when they split off into groups
They went together, and this interaction shows that with these three, Legend is the common sense filter that keeps the other two from falling off of cliffs
Wild: I wanted to climb the mountain!
Leg: there is literally a cliff to fall off of right there
One of the things I love most about about Legend and Wild is they understand each other
We have multiple examples of them literally stating facts about the other in coversation.
"I know you love to tease" "you break everything" "you're not usually impressed"
They just state facts about each other because they get each other and understand
Wild and Hyrule
Ah yes. The two that have so many similarities in which they give the rest of the chain heart attacks
They both have the insecurity about knighthood. Hyrule because he's never felt adequate, and Wild feels like he only used to be.
They both hate maps (who needs them, right? *promptly gets lost*)
They do not care about injury at all. "I can walk off a broken leg for sure it'll be fine"
When left alone these two nearly die. Like every time. Love them.
Here's a lot of them hanging out:
Legend and Hyrule
The downfall duo
These two are from the same timeline, the downfall timeline, and there are certain connections coming from the same world. I think that their world made them have a similar fighting style because of how it's developed.
They are around each other mostly
And they always fight together
Here's my take on these two: Legends more confident because he's done so much. Hyrule's less confident because he didn't have such an insane number of adventures.
Legend's been through enough to know this is ganon's fault, not his. Hyrule's been through little enough (even with insanely hard adventures) that he has much more insecurity.
These two are quite possibly the most skilled in survival, because of no formal knight training. Instead of having perfect swordsmanship, they have tools (legend) and spells (hyrule) to fight in a world that was so much harder.
Which of course relates to wild who woke up in a cave, found a sword and winged it.
That's their relationships two on two
Legend and wild: power team, overlooked but so so close
Wild and Hyrule: do not let them near fire
Legend and Hyrule (downfall duo): They fight together and they are a pair
Combined these three make a Triple Threat
They also have dynamics with all three of them combined
Bestest moments of them:
When turned into a bunny, Legend mentioned both Hyrule and Wild as the ones he was worried about seeing him that way
In both scenes of Wild breaking swords Legend or Hyrule was there
When Wild was injured, they both somehow lost their senses and freaked out about him being dead (lol)
But with all of them they understand each other
Wild and Hyrule know Legend is grumpy and rude- they don't care, he's their brother. As the one who appreciates maps, he keeps both from getting even closer to dying
Hyrule: he feels accepted. These two make him feel like he has a place and is valuable to those with similarities.
Hyrule and Legend don't care about Wild's odd traits, they know that he breaks stuff and gets hurt often.
Proof
!!!! Looking at their scenes (in my screenshots above too), this is clear: all three of them have more examples than most of them being next to or near the others
Plus all the adventures and scenes of them- they fight and wander together- they are on this journey with each other
Because they understand each other, they spend time with each other. With nine people in the chain, when a few are around each other this much rather than the others, it makes it very clear how close they are, since they simply want to be near each other.
Here's my very favourite picture that perfectly sums up the three of them:
Legend: grrrr
Hyrule: excited
Wild: still can't put his hands on his hips properly
And these three combined... we've got constantly injured, set fire to everything, get lost a ton, snarky rudeness galore, plus swords and tools and magic, and that makes them a threat
(one thing I want to point out. you can see this by looking at the screenshots in this post. with the chain, much of figuring out who is close is simply who is near each other. looking at their interactions and the times they are hanging out as a group, Four is most often near and hanging out with these three rather than the others, so I think he is also very close to them and feels comfortable with them. do with that what you will.)
Yeah! Terror Trio.
:)
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the great sage (avoiding the horses’ plague)
(written for @flashfictionfridayofficial‘s prompt: FFF167: Leap of Faith. Not related to anything else I’m working on, but a resurrection of a very old story idea I never finished! Title, quite literally, Sun Wukong’s. Enjoy!)
While there is rather less green and quite a bit more grey, he could see why the humans called cities concrete jungles.
He cackled, throwing himself into a backflip off the streetlamp steel to land on a windowsill. The lamps cast his shadow upon the pavement as he flew, the remaining leaves rustling off branches as he flew. Autumn had always been his favourite time of year, more so now that the Jade Court had bigger things to worry about than his eminent self.
Wukong had thought they had forgotten him, to his indignation. What a horror, to be forgotten! Him, the great monkey god! He had angrily climbed a taller specimen of those buildings the humans had constructed in his absence, only to reach the garden to loud shrieks. It rather turned out that they hadn’t forgotten him, but rather were struggling with bigger issues. Such as getting humans to believe in them again.
He hadn’t quite got their meaning, but apparently, in his absence, there had been a deep erasure of their existence in favour of some other god. He gathered it had been violent and rather miserable, judging by the exhaustion in the farmer’s eyes and the shudder in the tails of the animal spirits he had come across. The forests fluttered sadly to him, the great peach trees of his home mountain reaching joyfully, if fearfully towards him. He had searched, almost frantically, for his old compatriots, the great monkeys of the Mountain, the great rulers of the hill in his absence.
He felt the fear grip his heart, and he understood why they no longer worried about him.
He had found the daughter of a daughter of one of his old advisors. She looked upon his face, fingers reaching gingerly to his staff and the family marks upon his fur. He remembered the way her great-grandmother laughed arrogantly as she threw gods out from the mountain for daring to disturb her rest, and his voice shuddered as he asked her where the rest of them were.
“They hide.”
He had felt a surge of revulsion. What was there to hide from that the mountain could not protect his own? But she had only nodded solemnly, her fingers clenching the same way her ancestor’s had.
“I stayed here to wait.”
And so she told him the story of how the monkeys had gone out, mischief used to defend their forests using mist and the warm waters of streams flowing out from the rivers. But the rivers had dried and the forests burned, and one by one, they had stopped responding to her messages. The forest itself poisoned and the rivers stinging where they once soothed, she told him the story of how her family had been chosen to remain as the strongest and wisest.
The waters of time had long since taught him not to rush off impulsively as the anger, fear, and grief warred in his heart. If he had been younger, he would have drawn his staff immediately, surged off in a burst of wind to the forests to seek out his monkeys. But age had told him to wait and research. To learn more about this new world, to listen to the spells the human now cast, the whispers of the forests until he learnt how best to help those he considered his.
It hadn’t been all gloom. She told him proudly of her younger sister picking the freshest apples from the conqueror’s banquet, throwing them into the air and disappearing in a laugh. She told him of her partner’s twisting the river to throw the humans off balance as they tried to sail down it, calling the current to his will. She told him about her own visit, leaving her young daughter in charge, to the Dragon of the East River.
“Does his palace still miss its pillar?” He asked, laughingly.
“He remembers you. And so does his palace.” Hetao said, responding with a smile of her own.
And he had talked the night away, staying and resting for weeks until he had been ready to reenter the city.
It helped, of course, that he had always been drawn to mischief. He looked at the arching neon sprays of paint across school walls and added rude points of his own. He stole important documents from offices, folding them into flowers and scattering them in mounds across the ground. He threw himself into the air, again and again, seeking the same joy he had once felt in it. He shifted form, bird, fly, mosquito, lion, human, and then monkey again, tricking swans as he dove into lakes as a fish before taking flight.
Wukong sought out the warriors of this time, his staff in hand as he kicked and slashed through fights. He bowed after, of course he did, and he always held back his strength, but it was always just a little bit not enough for him.
He tricked other spirits and demons, but it was no fun.
And all this, he did while he waited, while he learned how to craft an identity for himself to live in this world as he did his research. He learned the new mediums for trickery, shifting himself as easily as he did while alive. It was a fascinating experience, as he remembered fondly how he first learned to shift between forms, as he applied those same lessons to learning new things.
No one believed in his name, but it was no bother. They invoked him casually, teenagers bored out of their minds while stuck in their homes. He deigned to respond sometimes, sparks of magic that shorted out the capillaries of electricity to their places, sudden colour changes to plain facades. But he had learned to listen, and so he did.
What use is constantly leaping, after all, if you don’t know what you’re jumping into?
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