#facial cues

[jaijaitbinks]

Imagine Genos eventually learning Saitama's facial cues and Saitama understanding Genos' hand gestures. Like

One day, several people forcing themselves into Saitama's apartment happens. Let's say... King (who'd originally showed up way before to play video games), Fubuki, Butterfly, Forte, and Chain n' Toad.

During their stay, his social battery depletes gradually. He becomes less talkative, slumps over more, and becomes easily irritated. At one point he considers throwing them all out with the exception of King, who was actually taking deep care in giving Saitama his space (Saitama doesn't fault him for not making the others chill tf out, though). But with his exhaustion (physical and mental), he'd likely hurt them, so he doesn't.

Genos, who'd been preoccupied in the kitchen almost the entire time, gets the odd urge to look up for once. And he does. His eyes fall onto Saitama instinctually. Saitama, sensing the sudden (and familiar pair of) eyes on him, he turns to look at Genos. Immediately Genos is alarmed by the face he's making, and makes the motion of putting a dish away, silently asking "Are you okay? Do you need me over there?"

Saitama nods his head just slightly and let his eyelids droop a little. His thin-lined mouth, only just barely curved down at the ends, pronounces into something more sluggish and miserable. A complete frown, but the kind Genos recognizes the softness in immediately. "I'm tired. I want to sleep."

Quietly, he shuts the sink off, hangs up the rubber gloves, and beelines it for his sensei. He sits seiza, opens his arms slightly in another silent question. "Would you like me to hold you?"

Saitama's shoulders tighten a little and his eyes glance towards the side, where everyone is currently talking around the kotatsu. "They might see."

Genos shakes his head, shifts so his legs are open for Saitama to sit between and opens his arms wider. "That doesn't matter to me unless it makes you uncomfortable."

A moment passes before Saitama's slouching again and his eyebrows relax, eased with relief upon finally having comfort. He shuffles forward, but instead of sitting between the cyborg's thighs, he straddles him, face nestled into his shoulder and arms tucked in between their chests. "I want you to hold me completely."

Genos doesn't even think of hesitating. He just wraps his arms around his sensei and turns up the heating on his body, drawing his knees up so the man in completely enveloped and surrounded and held in him.

He doesn't care that the others have quieted down, casting glances at them from across the room frequently. He just squints at them, mouths "Keep it down", and returns to nestling against his sensei's head.

Eventually they leave, but Genos never lets Saitama go. Not until Saitama wakes up and looks up at him with slightly pleading eyes.

"I'm hungry."

#saitama #genos #genosai #saigenos #opm #one punch man #facial cues #facial expressions #nonverbal communication #gesturing #gestures #comfort

[divinegrump]

A disagreement post on "Do It Again"

I have some discomfort with this, especially with it blowing up everywhere and I have a couple things I want to share about it.

I don't see this as the face of someone saying "do it again." I could see how at the beginning of this clip Aziraphale may want it again, but there is no command here, no asking. What I see is a person having a panic attack, a person who is terrified by everything he's feeling and the sheer magnitude of it.

But that is not asking for it again. And that is not consent.

And coming across all the "do it again" posts where everyone is so surprised by it (and excited)- why is it so surprising? Could it be that the audience didn't see this the first (couple) times they watched it? Could it be that there is surprise because they didn't see it? Because it isn't there?

And this genuinely scares me. As someone who has had people misinterpret my boundaries, and has misinterpreted others boundaries and learned from it, it makes me so incredibly uncomfortable. This has the potential for negative repercussions: how this simply is not true and teaches potential pattern recognition of a facial cue that does not mean what people think it means.

Also this information has been passed through multiple people, and through that has become incredibly reductive

Originally there was a lot more nuance- certainly not enough to cover the whole range of emotion, but it had not yet been stripped of the layers it has, etc.

Also just a side note that Michael Sheen is too good of an actor, his facial expressions are so nuanced and beautiful, for this look to be reduced to "do it again."

I do want to put in a note to say that I understand the excitement about learning something new about Good Omens, I totally have that, too. But not with this, and not with the way people are handling it. I am not, by any means, telling you that you are bad for doing this or for being excited. What I am doing is asking you to examine how you speak about this and take what I'm saying into consideration.

Thank you for reading

#consent #facial cues #do it again #good omens #aziraphale #crowley #michael sheen #david tennant #the kiss #go s2

[steakout-05]

i forgor it was autism day yesterday so i'd like to wish a very happy autism month and late autism day to data from star trek specifically :)

#star trek #star trek tng #star trek the next generation #star trek next gen #data soong #data #commander data #data tng #autism #autism acceptance day #autism acceptance month #actually autistic #autistic #data's so autism it has to be canon #like #he doesn't get social cues or humour #he mirrors the actions of his human friends (especially geordi) #he has a flat effect #he has a special interest (sherlock holmes) #he can't process his emotions in a ''human'' way and doesn't quite get facial expressions #and even when he does get the emotion chip installed he still exhibits literally every other autism trait #that's what i love about data post generations. the emotion chip didn't suddenly make him human- #-or neurotypical. he's still good ol' autistic data he just knows how to laugh and cry now :) #that what i was afraid of when i first watched the movie because i thought they'd just do a whole 180 with his character- #-as soon as geordi installed the chip but luckily they did not and i'm very happy about it #anyway shoutout to data!! i love him very much <3

[starculler]

strap in for this week's fic flavor: the failsafe episode of season one of the young justice cartoon except the simulation just won't. fuckin. end.

(fics that inspired this at the end)

If I ever did sit down to make my own fic, I'd split it in 3 parts:

The Simulation: bits and pieces of the 40 years Dick lives after most everyone he knows has died

The Return: the immediate aftermath and healing from the trauma of having not-quite-actually lived a whole life only to wake up and find out it was all fake. nothing traumatizing about that whatsoever.

The Unintended Consequence: aka the twist I'd love to add and would hint to in the second part - finding out the simulation, through martian mind fuckery, pulled from the real world (and in many cases, from real minds). Dick meets a bunch of people he didn't think were real outside the confines of his simulated life. A bunch of rowdy, heroism-inclined teens across the years get to meet the sibling/friend/mentor figure they all dreamed up one night.

(actual idea snippets under the cut)

.

Dick Grayson is 14 and most of the world's heroes have died. He planned a suicide mission that left him the sole survivor of a doomed team he helped found. The invasion may have been stopped, but is this really the price he wanted to pay?

The first face he sees in the infirmary is Roy's, and he has to close his eyes and just breathe for a few minutes because for one painful moment he'd thought it was Wally. But this isn't the world where his best friend miraculously survived alongside him. This is the one where he got his best friend killed and didn't even give him the courtesy of following behind him. Behind them.

.

Dick Grayson is 27 and has lived longer without Bruce than with him. The invasion's anniversary is always a tough day for him, but that morning seems especially harrowing. He'll get shit for it later, but can't resist stepping out onto the balcony of the manor's master bedroom (Bruce's old bedroom) for a smoke -- his first since he'd promised to quit if Jason, just 15 then, did too.

"Bad habits tend to pile up," he'd said, a rueful quirk to his tired grin. He'd tapped the cigarette twice on the railing and added, lower, "and this one's especially nasty, huh."

He inhales, watches the sun creep across the horizon, and lets acrid smoke burn through his lungs for a long moment before blowing it out in a small cloud. His eyes water, but he doesn't cough. It tastes just as bad as it did the first time he smoked one, not even a year after the invasion and treading water as Robin proved insufficient.

There hadn't been enough heroes to go around then, and Dick had been trained by one of the best. It hadn't been fair, but it had been his plan that had ultimately stopped the invasion. His shoulders everyone's expectations fell on.

He takes another drag, then smudges the lit end against the rail he's leaned on when he hears a boot scuff purposefully against the roofing above him.

"Todd and Pennyworth will be upset with you."

He doesn't turn around. Damian doesn't jump down to join him.

.

Dick Grayson is 54 and wakes up in a room full of ghosts. He hears his long-dead father-figure tell his long-dead team about a simulation they weren't meant to win. A training exercise gone wrong and only half a day spent under their mentors' careful, if slightly panicked, supervision.

He looks at his hands, watching the way his gloves crease when he flexes them in and out of tight fists. He looks at his team, their eyes a little haunted but shoulders slumped with relief even as they grumble. Batman's heavy, gloved hand settles on his shoulder and the weight of it is a nauseating mix of foreign-familiar.

He opens his mouth. Closes it.

Tears prick his eyes behind his domino mask, and he tells himself the suffocating, acidic void building in his chest is just some leftover side effect of the ordeal and not the grief-guilt of outliving yet another family (no matter that they hadn't been real in the end).

.

Dick Grayson is 16-going-on-56 and well used to the coincidences piling up between his simulated life and the real thing. Some of it -- missions and villains he remembers cropping up -- he's marked for Bruce to review and sort as he pleases. Some -- security for the cave, team building anecdotes, and training regimens -- he's shared with the team. And some he keeps only for himself.

Tim is one of those. He knows it's not fair to the kid (so much smaller now than he ever was when Dick lived his simulated life), but he can't help being selfish just for this. Tim is the one kid he's sure he didn't make up, and if Dick's taken to babysitting the kid just to be near at least one member of the family he built for himself in the wake of the worst days of his life .... Well, anyone who says shit about it can happily stand in line to have their teeth kicked in.

Despite this, it still catches him off-guard when he sees a familiar face pop up in one of Bruce's reports.

Jason Todd, caught boosting tires off the batmobile, is nearly the same age now as he was when Dick met him. He stares at the words, but none of them really sink in beyond the kid's name and address. He's moving before he's even made the decision.

He's used to the world kicking him when he's down - lived it for 40 frustrating years. But he has Bruce again. And things with Tim have been so good. And he's always been selfish when it comes to family. If he could just see Jason. If he could just meet him. If he could talk to him.

If if if if if--

.

Inspirations:

Circles in Shattered Mirrors by InfinityIllusion

Fine (But Not Okay) by CharlotteDaBookworm

Verisimilitude by mutemelody

#young justice #young justice cartoon #batfam #batman #dick grayson #thoughts and headcanons #the heart wrenching inability to cope with the fact that you've lived a fully realized life #you've loved and lost and loved again in the face of every unending tragedy #until you've forcefully carved out this one little safe haven for yourself #only to be thrust back to the beginning of one of your greatest traumas - esp one you're partly responsible for! #gotta love it #anyway i am and always have been obsessed with dick grayson and no one can stop me #the simulation was fake but some psychic bs means real world elements filtered in #cue several children with weird dream-memories of half-lived experiences and a massive sense of deja-vu #when they wade into the superhero world #all i can picture is the spiderman pointing meme but it's the batkids at dick lol #my favorite idea is that once Dick gets his grubby hands on Jason and Tim it's all over from there #he's pulling late nights and researching and scouring facial recognition databases until he finds his kids #(he blurs the lines a lot when it comes to considering them his siblings vs kids #on the one hand they're not super far apart in age bar Damian #on the other he hasn't been a kid in any meaningful way since he was 14 and he very nearly raised half of them in some way #(plus side to an au is that i can space the ages out more as needed compared to the show haha) #jason and cass are firmly siblings close as they are to his age #steph tim and duke fluctuate depending on how in trouble or injured they are #i will die by dick being damian's dad tho lmao #babs is more platonic life partner than sibling but very firmly family regardless #this is the dick grabs on to any shred of family he can with both hands and drags them in kicking and screaming if he has to au

[voidoftetris]

i need to kill whoever invented phone calls with my bare hands

#here. talk to someone you don’t know and request they take time out of their day to help you #you’ve got the hang of that? ok now do it without any body language or facial expression cues #literally what is up kyle. what did you say. no seriously what did you say i didn’t hear and can’t read your face for clues #voidposts

[polycrews]

shoutout to girlies who stim completely blank-faced. the girlies r me btw

#my art #hs #dd #i think facial expressions are yet another exhausting social cue. and hence take too much effort #anyways this was made as a cry for help. someone come talk to me there’s a reason the askbox is always open #i need to hear thoughts that ain’t my own

[inafieldofdaisies]

WIP Wednesday | Tagging @thesingularityseries @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat @adelaidedrubman @strafethesesinners @strangefable @nightbloodbix @aceghosts @madparadoxum @g0dspeeed @trench-rot @josephseedismyfather @josephslittledeputy @euryalex @sstewyhosseini @detectivelokis @purplehairsecretlair @jinfromyarikawa @shegetsburned @clicheantagonist @locustandwildhoney @fourlittleseedlings @poisonedtruth @vampireninjabunnies-blog @cassietrn @wrathfulrook @jacobsneed @voidika @harmonyowl @henbased @schoute and anyone with something to share <3

Sharing another snippet from Chapter 10: Calahan and Leslie's first meeting. A rocky start of a bromance. Sprinkling some Mary May x Hartley breadcrumbs in there, too. <3

Hours after discovering Harker passed out on the side on the road among two other dead Resistance members, Calahan found himself parking his truck in front of the Spread Eagle. Arguably, he had never needed a drink more. Not only had he lost two recruits, no matter how difficult they had proven themselves to be, while the third was still recovering from the Bliss bullet he was hit with, but he had discovered his biggest fear to be true: Sabrina was in the hands of John Seed, just like Hudson. He couldn't come up with any other explanation for what Justin had seen on that road after Charlie's group had ambushed the bastard. The woman sparing a life, the child in the car, every detail he had received from the woozy teen further confirmed his theory about the identity of the woman John had with him. And Savannah. His gaze darkened at the thought of the kid that called him uncle anywhere near that goddamned bunker. "Gray wouldn't allow it. She would fight like hell.", he whispered to himself as he finally exited the Eden's Gate truck he had recommissioned from a capture party recently. "Rest in peace, NOT, fuckers.", he said out loud as he slammed the door shut and turned in the direction of the bar. A couple of minutes later he was sitting in his usual seat inside, nursing a glass of whatever liquor Mary May still had in stock after John Seed had his men confiscate her main stash few days back. Bastard is quickly climbing up my shit list. Calahan didn't care much about what she was serving him as long as it took the edge off, calmed him down after finally getting news on Sabrina and her sister. His eyes fell down on the handmade rainbow bracelet Savannah had gifted him few weeks back, something he hadn't taken off since she had tied it around his wrist with the biggest grin on her freckled face. It was another reminder of what needed protecting, why he fought as hard as he did even before the Reaping's start. Why he argued with Whitehorse so often, why he lashed out at the damned Peggies as a result, why he didn't give a single fuck about protocol when it came to the Project. As he ran his fingers over the white beads that spelled out his actual name, not "Rookie", he told himself this is what Joseph should never get his claws into: the innocents he could so easily poison with his deadly ideas. And yet John had done just that- gotten his hands on Savannah, too. Where are you, Tiny? You better be alright or he will be paying in blood.

"Something's on your mind, Rookie. I can tell.", Mary May stopped in front of him. He let out a dry laugh, "Just the usual bullshit, gorgeous. Don't worry." "You sure?", she eyed the way he was gripping the glass in his hand as he willed his anger to settle down, to retreat, "You seem out of sorts. I've seen that look before, you know, then seconds later you were punching a customer." "He was asking for it." "Didn't say he wasn't. But still… what's up?", Mary May raised an eyebrow and leaned against the bar, her hand coming to rest on top of his. Calahan found himself unable to process the unexpected touch after months of her ever only being annoyed with his flirting. He opened his mouth, wishing all his worry would pour out as easily as she poured his next drink, knowing she was good at listening to people. Her soft blue eyes assured him of it in that moment, hinting that maybe she actually cared for him. Was willing to hear him out. But the words never came, instead the bell above the door chimed, putting an end to the brief moment between them as she returned to her post to greet whoever had entered. Calahan didn't bother turning around, instead he released a tired sigh and took another sip. He reveled in the familiar burn of the alcohol as it slid down his throat, in the promise it would get him closer to feeling numb, even for a short while. "I will be damned.", Mary May exclaimed suddenly. Her tone made him look towards the bar's entrance sharply, his hand immediately reaching for his pistol on instinct in anticipation of trouble. It took him seconds to register the sight in front of him, seconds where he wondered if he was imagining things, if the liquor was hitting him harder than expected. Certainly that was the only explanation for seeing John Fuckface Seed standing in front of him. Before he could think twice, he practically flew from his chair, almost knocking it over as he charged at the bastard. His hand wrapped around his neck before he slammed him into the wall next to the door with all his might.

"Where is SHE?", Calahan screamed, the anger he was struggling to keep under wraps escaping at the unexpected appearance of the man that fucked with him daily. The man that paraded Hudson on his broadcast as a cautionary tale for what's to come. The man that he suspected had Sabrina and an innocent child as prisoners, too. Deep blue eyes stared at him in confusion, betraying his panic. Good. You should be afraid. "I'm-", the bastard tried to croak out, the force of Hartley's hold on his windpipe made it impossible for him to get anything else out. Calahan knew he had to loosen his grip, that he'd get no information from a deadman, but his hate for the Seeds had reached a boiling point with the missed opportunity to save Sabrina still fresh on his mind. "CALAHAN! Stop.", Mary May pulled at his shoulder, trying to bring him back from the edge, at the same time the man grabbed his wrist, twisting his arm behind his back swiftly. "I am not JOHN SEED.", came out as a frustrated shout as he restrained him, the words making Hartley blink in surprise, his face no doubt mirroring Mary May's. "Let go of my arm, bastard, if you don't want me to break yours.", he gritted out and whoever the man was finally released his arm. "Rookie. You okay?", Mary May whispered as she put a hand on his bicep, her gaze a mix of shock and concern. "He attacked me, m'am. And you're asking if he's okay?" M'am? Fuck me. Definitely not John Seed. Calahan turned around, scanning the man that stood in a defensive pose in the doorway from head to toe. The dark hair, beard, blue eyes… he could pass for John's fucking double. "I will be damned.", he parroted Mary May's words from earlier, "Who the fuck are you?" The stranger rubbed his throat before answering, "Detective Leslie Parish. I'm here looking for, well, you." Calahan couldn't help the shocked laugh that escaped him, "Isn't my day just getting better and better?", he returned to his seat and pointed to the chair next to him, "Sit."

Mary May sprung back into action, retreating behind the bar as she addressed what she considered now a potential customer, "Anything to drink, Detective?" "Whiskey. On the rocks, uh-", Leslie responded in a low tone as he sat down and rubbed his face, "Sorry, I didn't catch your name…" "Mary May." She wasted no time pouring him a drink which he downed immediately the second she put it down in front of him. "Thank you." "Now you've officially passed the test. Definitely not John Seed.", Calahan spoke up, making the detective next to him laugh. "Sorry for almost choking the life out of you.", he added and reached a hand to him, "Deputy Calahan Hartley, though most call me Rookie." The man accepted the handshake with a raised eyebrow, "You're new to the Sheriff's?" "No." "Should I call you Rookie, then?" Calahan paused, not many had bothered to ask him that question, not since Sabrina had shown up on her first day months ago. "Calahan or Cal would be nice." Leslie nodded, "Noted." "I gather you're aware you look like a certain someone?", Mary May interjected. "My last few days have been hell. Fuck, the moment I arrived in your beautiful County, I had a shotgun pointed at my face. Lost count how many times I had to explain to people I'm not John Seed, or say I'm not related to him or his brother in any way." "Have to admit, it's kind of a challenge not to punch you in the face, no offense.", Calahan eyed him with curiosity, "Why are you here?" "I planned on visiting someone when all hell broke loose. Haven't managed to find her yet." "Who?" "I thought if anyone would know where she is, it would be you, Deputy.", Leslie took a deep breath, his blue eyes filled with worry as he muttered, "I'm looking for Sabrina Donovan. She used to tell me stories about you anytime we talked over the phone, then people mentioned your name as the one in charge of things out here, and it all clicked. I knew who I had to track down." Well, fuck me, ain't that a plot twist.

"I don't know what to say, aside from that I'm looking for her as well. Have been for days now.", Calahan took out his zippo, flicking it open and closed in attempt to soothe his nerves. "Where is she, Calahan? What happened?" "You might need another drink before I tell you that story." Leslie's eyes narrowed while Mary May poured him a second glass. "What happened?", he repeated in a low tone. "On the first we got called in afterhours by the Sheriff himself, Sabrina included, weren't told much about why until a Federal Marshal walzed in announcing we'd be arresting Joseph Seed. He was so giddy, too giddy." "Sabrina didn't tell me anything about the cult, how serious things were…" "Sounds just like her, too independent for her own good.", Calahan gave him a sad smile, before continuing, "So, we flew over to his compound, entered the fucker's church while he's holding a service in the middle of the night. Like what the hell, right? Sheriff had decided Sabrina would have the honors to slap the cuffs on him. At the last second, she backed away, all frantic, saying something's wrong." "She's never afraid of arrests. I've known her for years. She has chased down all sorts of questionable characters… not once have I seen her flinch.", Leslie's face darkened, but he didn't say anything else, waiting for more. "My thoughts exactly, but this family, Detective… They're different.", Calahan lowered his voice, "The second we walked in John fucking Seed was eyeing her with interest. Got even worse when she hesitated to arrest his brother while the Marshal lost his shit at the delay. I jumped in, cuffing him. We managed to escort him out… but his people refused to let him go, crashed our chopper." "Sabrina… is she dead? Is this what you're trying to tell me?" Hartley shook his head, "Last time I saw her, she was alive. I insisted to get her out, to help with that fucking seatbelt. Joseph's men were all around, took away the others from the chopper. Sabrina demanded I run, promising she'd be right behind." He was close to losing his cool at the memory of that cursed early morning.

Mary May put an ashtray in front of him then, whispering, "I'm making an exception this one time." Calahan gave her a grateful smile, lighting a cigarette and taking a drag of it before adding, "We never reunited, I bumped into the fucking Marshal instead, bastard left me to drown after we tried to make a run for it and a freaking plane sent our truck flying off a bridge." "Fuck." "Yeah. A good samaritan saved me. Dutch. Helped me get back on my feet, offered we start a resistance seeing how the cult has everything on lock down and no help is coming." "Good call, with everything gone to shit." He nodded, "We had a mole, you know. Fucking Nancy. Loyal to the "Father", as Joseph likes to call himself. Didn't get us the reinforcement Whitehorse asked for." "And Sabrina?" "Have been looking for her ever since the goddamned Reaping started. It's what they call this shitshow. "Reaping". Think they're saving our souls, that the world is about to end…" Leslie looked lost in thought as he uttered out, "I saw John's broadcast with the other Deputy." Hartley lit another cigarette, his anger bubbling as he kept reminding himself the man in front of him wasn't John, despite how much he resembled him. "Yeah, he has Joey. Has been calling me daily too, railing me up with her capture, but hasn't said anything about Sabrina." "I went to her house. Cult trucks were parked at the front, no sign of her or her sister, it's why I've been trying to find you, Calahan." "I might have something, but I doubt you'd like it. I sure as hell didn't. Are you sure you're ready?" Leslie downed his drink, "Yes." Mary May winced, "Yeah, maybe avoid saying that word," she gestured to his head, "with that face." "Sorry.", he sent her a knowing smile.

"Earlier today, a trainwreck of a recruit showed up here with his buddies, claiming he has intel on John's next move, was planning to ambush him. I didn't believe it, so I turned down their invite." "Something tells me they were right?" "Sadly. Hour or so later, I get a call from the youngest guy, saying they have him, listing off their location before he went silent. I drove there and found quite the bloody scene." Leslie's hands formed fists on the bar. "Bastard killed two of the three guys, slashed their throats, the one that contacted me got shot with a Bliss bullet, but he's recovering." "Bliss bullet?" "Potent shit. It's a drug the cult makes, knocks you out in seconds, the things they use it for… pure hell, Detective." "How are things this bad?" "They've been preparing. Joseph claims to see the future, you know. Visions from God, he calls them. When we showed up at the church, he said he knew we'd come, that we'd try to take him away, but "God" won't let us." "Fuck, and Rina didn't think to tell me any of this. Assured me it's all fine.", Leslie muttered in frustration. "She does that a lot, doesn't she?" "Who shot Harker with a Bliss bullet?", it was Mary May that spoke up, her voice curious. Calahan took a deep breath, revealing what he had planned on keeping a secret. "Sabrina.", he said quietly, glad the bar was empty. "What the fuck, Rookie?" "She saved the bastard, gorgeous. He has her sister, from what Harker told me." Leslie slammed his hand on the bar, "Savannah. Where are they?", he got up from his chair, but Hartley caught his arm, stopping him from storming out. "Sit down, Les. As much as it pains me to say this, to be the voice of reason… we have to be rational about this."

"I should have come with her.", he said darkly, but followed Calahan's advice. "I've been down that road, too. Thoughts about what I should have done keep me up at night. But if I know one thing about Sabrina… she's resourceful, resilient." "She is.", he smiled. "I don't know for certain where she could be, it kills me to think he dragged Savannah into that bunker.", his fingers touched the bracelet again absently, "But we can't storm it, not with how much manpower and resources he has, not without a solid plan or people we can rely on, especially when we have no eyes inside to be sure she's even there." "Fuck. I- I know you're right, Deputy." "He hasn't mentioned her once, Leslie. Not once in the radio calls to me, she's not in the broadcast, it's like he doesn't want people to know he has her. Anytime I ask about her, he dodges my question." "He's planning something." Mary May looked between the two with a unreadable expression, "You don't think he turned her?" "Fuck no, Mary May. You know Sabrina. I just told you she saved Harker." "Fuck.", she pursed her lips, "Rookie, I know the games John plays, how he breaks people. And after Nancy… what if Sabrina's on his side, too? Maybe has been all along." Calahan shook his head sharply, "She's not turned. She's not a fucking Peggie. I know her." "Fine. For what is worth, you know I trust your judgment.", Mary May crossed her arms over her chest, giving him a stern look. "Peggies?", Leslie seemed lost in thought as he asked that. "Project at Eden's Gate, Peggies for short. It's what locals call Joseph's men." "Noted."

Hartley took a deep breath, putting out his cigarette before he turned to Leslie, "Look, I know there's not much to do right now about Sabrina, not without more information… but seeing how you're here, that you found me, maybe it's all for the best. I sure as hell can use another helping hand against the Project." Leslie's eyes darkened, a look of determination coming over his features, "Your battle is now my battle, too, Calahan." "Good.", Calahan raised his glass for a toast before asking, "You got a gun, Detective?" Leslie nodded, "My service weapon.", he opened his leather jacket, showing off a holstered pistol. "We're gonna get you more serious firepower ASAP.", Calahan pointed to the gun, "You had to use it yet?" "A few times. The "Peggies" are everywhere. Even tried to take over the motel I was staying at. I tried to help people along my way here as much as possible.", he said the nickname with uncertainty. "Learning fast. The only good Peggie is a dead one, Les, because chances are they'd try to take you back to John's bunker or dunk you in the river to cleanse you.", Calahan's voice became lighter, "Hell, now that I'm thinking of it, you have an advantage, if you ask me. They see your face and start to wonder if they're not about to shoot their precious leader, giving you an extra second to strike." Leslie chuckled humorlessly, "What a way to spend my vacation days. I will keep it in mind." "Is Abeline okay?", Mary May questioned, her tone laced with worry. "She was when I left, she's a fighter. Who do you think pulled that shotgun on me? Never have been more confused in my life. She went from wielding a gun to making me coffee." "Good old Abby.", Mary May laughed, "Thank you, Detective. For looking out for our people." Her words made Leslie look away, "Just doing my duty." "We got a shy one on our hands, gorgeous.", Calahan slapped him on the back as he got up and headed for the door, "Come now, there's some people you need to meet." Leslie finished his drink, muttering a quiet "thank you" on his way out. "Leslie." Mary May called out before they could exit, reaching under the bar and pulling out a Spread Eagle branded hat that she threw at him, "Might want to cover your face as much as possible. Spare yourself a "friendly" welcome or two."

#hehe; new WIP banner; so happy with this one <3 #(and spent way too long editing a bracelet with cal's name and you can't even read it in the header but oh well :D) #Leslie should so sue John for damages; but then again he'd probably hit him right back worse #Leslie when finally meeting John: “YOU KNOW HOW HARD LIFE HAS BEEN SINCE I STEPPED A FOOT IN THIS COUNTY? It's all your fault.” #John be like: I have an easy solution... *offering him free a haircut; shave or facial surgery* #Yes.. the Peggies have no pictures of Leslie; and I imagine them using a John picture as placeholder and going: “similar but different” #cue the *angry noises* from both men #I'm wishing luck to Sabrina to stop Calahan from annihilating John when the 3 are finally in the same room if he goes off like that at Les #wip wednesday #wip: in hope of tomorrow #oc: calahan hartley #oc: leslie parish #fc5 ocs #mary may fairgrave #far cry 5 oc #ocs #original characters #wip stuff #wip snippet #dialogue snippet #my ships #wip #wip excerpt #fc5 fandom #snippets #wip sneak peek #current wip #fc5 deputy #far cry 5 deputy #wip whenever

[indigostudies]

i’ve been thinking, if i manage to do my classes the way i have them planned, i’ll be able to finish my degree a year early, and that way i’ll have basically complete freedom when i do my capstone study abroad year, and i’ve wanted to learn a sign language for a long time (especially since i’ve started experiencing speech loss more than i used to) but i haven’t been able to make online learning attempts for it stick (i took a year of asl online but i can barely do more than fingerspell) so i thought i might try and see if i can study csl (especially since i plan on moving back and living there the rest of my life).

#my only worry is that i am really bad at remembering/noticing/using facial expressions #and nonverbal cues (autism again) #so i’m afraid that i won’t be able to become fluent because of that #but i can still try! the worst that happens is i’m not good at it #indigo ink

[wetbloodworm]

wavemaker9: "i think his face changes every time i draw him" he's a changeling so it IS possible badum tsh

LMAO FUCK WAIT, THAT'S IT i could get away with that. he tends not to shapeshift too much and when it does it's fairly subtle. maybe he just shifts his jawline around and stuff. i could swing that. the excuse is right there. ez your brain is so big and full of wrinkles

#mik tag #that is not. the actual reason. but imagine #extra funny if i give him my weirdness with registering facial features #he sees the full face not all the details. he would not notice little changes. so he figures no one else will either. #not that noticing is a bad thing he clearly does not hide that he's a changeling. #he just tries to be recognizable for all the non-changelings who are less used to people just swapping around all the time #(that's one reason why his brother has one static mask he defaults to and why one mom has a few static traits between masks) #(the other mom. doesn't care lmao) #what if i gave all of my changelings that kind of. broad registering of faces but not being able to tell things apart #because they figure things can change. they pick up on other cues to tell people apart. body language and speech patterns. #these tags are getting out of hand i might continue later in a full post lmao #sorry for taking your joke and running with it ez but also ty this is fun

[greyeyedmonster-18]

(remus's scars arent from being a werewolf, they're from being stupidly clumsy and uncoordinated)

#look #i find it funny that remus's scars in AUs are explained by like accidents #(im looking at myself) #(who explained Remus's facial scar because he tripped and fell into a corner of a counter) #but i want this to be in hogwarts era stuff too #like no no not werewolf related #remus just tripped over a sweater getting out of bed and knocked a tooth out on a bed post #is sirius clean because of his strict upbringing? #or because his best friend (james) and boyfriend (remus) are both super accident prone? #cue the head canon that remus and james always did the stupidest shit together

[majflodder]

All the characters I started relating to when I was a teenager and thought I was so edgy because I'm like them turned out to just be autistic

#they're autistic cause i'm autistic and i say they are too #especially house #the ep that said he isn't is just wrong cause wilson and cuddy are most likely autistic too so they just went yeah house is just an asshole #else he's very neurotypical like we are #bones and monk and especially patrick jane the mentalist and elementary sherlock (and bbc sherlock too he just doesn't know that) #i also need to clarify that i'm definitely not super smart like they are i just can't read social cues or facial expressions like a normal #person so i thought all my copying and learning peoples expressions was some fbi like profiling #spoiler alert i can't read people

[snakeautistic]

When I got the results of my autism assessment, was caught off guard by just how poorly I scored in the facial expression recognition area of the testing. I consider myself to be pretty acutely aware of my strengths/weaknesses, but I hadn’t really thought that much about how well I read body language. I did that section of the assessment thinking “Well, I think that went pretty similarly to the other cognitive tests I did”.

But I performed above average in most of the cognitive testing areas (more so in some than others), and in the bottom 20% of people when it came to facial expressions. I’ve come to realize just how deeply I rely on verbal context clues to read people. I am very much not fluent in visual social cues to the extent that I hadn’t even noticed!

#actually autistic #body language #social cues #facial expressions #autism #autistic #asd #autism spectrum #neurodivergent #neurodiversity #autism testing #autism assessment

[classicintp]

You think you know a foreign language well enough until you try arguing in it and can't

#i can't say i was certifiably fluent but I was pretty close to fluent in American Sign Language #i could have full conversations that would only lag when i needed to ask for vocab #up until i need to argue with someone and then it would all fall apart #i choose my words pretty carefully in English and i was just not able to capture the equivalent nuance in ASL #really‚ really bums me out that I haven't had any easy opportunities to keep up with it #it's been uhh.. 7 years now. I do my best to periodically go over and recite grammar rules to myself #facial cues‚ rules for time & wh-words‚ descriptive hand shapes‚ specific counting motions‚ etc. #but I've lost 90% of my vocab #again totally my fault. the best ways to learn languages is to be social with them and that is just not fun for me.

[wolvierinez]

its upsetting how much social media has really made it easy for people to be ableist. for people to spread ableist shit and content made by disabled people so other people can laugh at it and marvel at how "weird" or "unnerving" they are. whats worse is that because people spread it it shows up in disabled peoples feeds. it gets spread and the creator gets a lot of engagement that they may not know how to handle. people begin trying to exploit the creator. videos get made of them. forums and threads and all sorts of shit. and its all just. how can anyone do this? dedicate hours at a time to laughing at disabled people just existing on the internet? who taught these people that this kimd of thing was okay?

#ableism #disabled #this was mainly bc autistic ppl who create content #who display more '''weird''' symptoms #<-HEAVY brackets there. #are often ridiculed for shit like #not catching social cues #or having a different tone of speaking #or lack facial expression #im tired of this man !! im so tired

[strawberryamanita]

Silly little headcanon of mine: I like to think that Dark isn't really as mean-spirited as they come across (though they are grouchy by default and do still have a pretty short fuse), and that the biggest problem with reading them is that they have a bad case of Resting Bitch Face (and Voice).

Like you could ask them "Hey, Dark, can I borrow your phone for a minute?" And they'd answer with something completely innocuous like "Sure, but what are you using it for?" and you have to like. figure out if you're putting your life on the line with your answer even though they said they'll lend it to you fkdbdksjfhdjqjdhej

Also this

#i understand this would be a nightmare for people who have trouble reading facial social cues #because i'm one of those people sometimes gkdbsksmdbdksndbf #darkiplier #markiplier egos #the ipliers

[honeymaki]

I was making a list to try and make my home life easier, specially around my family. I was just listing all my autistic traits and how I could remedy/alter/mask them…..

#changing my tone of voice which I massively struggle with #not being so aggressive/pointed about my opinions #understanding more social cues/other peoples tone or expression #I struggle so hard with all of that #I struggle to hold my tongue because I’m so justice seeking #my tone has gotten me into arguments #my aggressive but like ally opinions have gotten me hated #said opinions like leg hair isn’t gross and trans lives matter #my facial expressions GOD I cannot hide those I’m sorry #but it saddened me to see that list and be like that’s just autism??? #I have to mask big as it is but even more so because living has gotten hard #I know I have to make a concious effort to control my tone and aggression #I’m lucky I have my sister who shares my struggle #but bettering myself for myself doesn’t mean stamping down my autistic traits #I’m not sure what it means but trying to be more concious I guess?? #it’s hard #🌱.chats