#trigger warning ableism

[ab121500]

FO4 Companions React to a Blind!Sole

Sole being blind Pre-war (TW for Ableism) 

I've never written one of these before, but my most recent  Sole is blind so I thought I'd put my idea of how I think the companions would react. 

Cait: Doesn't believe that Sole is blind at first. They're too good of a shot, too aware of what's going on to be blind. But she notices that Sole does struggle with things those with sight wouldn't even bat an eye at. They often face the wrong way when being told to read something, they also are terrible at keeping watch. She at first is mad that she has to "pick up the slack" but she quickly gets over it after Sole treats her with kindness and understanding. Doesn't take long for her to stand up for Sole in every situation.

Codsworth: Sole's blindness was something that he got used to not long after being purchased. As a Mr. Handy, he has software that allows him to assist those who are disabled. It never affected how Sole treated him, nor his perception of them. In the post war setting, with the world being so different from what Sole remembers, he tries to assist in even more ways than he used to. Going with Sole to Concord for example, or at least wanting to when they denied his request. He doesn't treat Sole any differently from before, and tries not to handle them with kid gloves knowing how much they hate that.

Curie: Sees Sole as a curiosity. At first she often tries to run little tests to figure out the severity of their blindness and the extent of their capabilities. She's a doctor, she wants to know the extent of their blindness and what she can do to potentially assist. That being said, after being called out she knocks it off and switches her focus on listening to Sole and what they want. She wants to be helpful, unaware of how condescending she can be at times.

Deacon: Thinks Sole is extremely interesting from the moment he sees them the first time. Their ability to get around without much trouble and handle the wasteland without sight is fascinating. He appreciates that Sole can't see him following them around, and when Sole comes around to get the courser chip decoded he still vouches for them. Still, due to the nature of the Railroad and the fact they use road signs and need to keep an eye out he worries Sole won't be a good agent. He doesn't want to risk any synth getting caught or hurt because Sole didn't notice the danger. Overall he respects Sole, but thinks Sole is best on Railroad jobs with him or Glory by their side. He does get annoyed that their PipBoy has voice to text on, as it gives them away when sneaking but he can look past that.

Danse: The fact that a citizen came in guns blazing to save him and his squad got his respect, but once he noticed their blindness he instantly feels like Sole is a liability. People being blind wasn't the most uncommon thing in the brotherhood, but those who were blind often weren't allowed on the field anymore. More often than not they were asked to more or less retire to not put their teammates at risk. He tries to tactfully get Sole to leave, but he knows he needs the extra firepower to get the transmitter. He appreciates the help but is wary about sponsoring them even if they proved their capabilities. After becoming his newest charge, he acts like they are the same as any recruit. That being said, it takes him a long time to not handle Sole like a helpless child. He knows Sole can handle themselves, but he can't help but treat them a little differently. It takes being pulled aside and called out before he realizes he's even doing that, and he apologizes and tries his hardest to knock it off.

Dogmeat: Confused at first but he's a good smart boy. Happy to be Sole's eyes instead.

Hancock: At first, he thought Sole was just a cold, badass bitch. No reaction to a man being stabbed in front of them, AND no reaction to him being a ghoul? But the realization hit him quickly after, and he didn't know how to feel. Sole was clearly street smart enough to not be taken advantage of, but that didn't mean people didn't suck. Honestly, if anyone belonged in the town full of misfits who look out for each other, it was Sole. He treats them like they treat him, like a person that is just like everyone else. He is guilty of subtly moving things out of Sole's way or tapping them so they face the right direction, but it's never really noticeable. It's similar to moving something out of someone's way when they are distracted or tapping someone's shoulder to get their attention.  

Maccready: He assumed that he was being hired to be a bodyguard. After all, being blind in the wastes was not easy and they'd need protection. Didn't take long for him to realize Sole is a damn good shot and is able to take care of themself. He deduces that Sole hired him not as a bodyguard, but as a companion, someone who was company on the road so they had someone to talk to. And if he just so happened to notice if someone was trying to rip Sole off he'd be able to call them out. He doesn't treat Sole any differently, before or after his quest. Before, they're his employer he's not saying shit and after they're his friend and he's not going to risk that relationship. 

Nick: He knew something was up the moment Sole didn't even slightly react to his appearance. Didn't panic seeing him, nor asked what his deal was. The fact they were able to get him out without being able to see, using a terminal and all got his respect. But he was still nervous that a blind person was using a gun, or he was until by some miracle Sole landed at least 6 head-shots in a row. Once being free, the interview to try and find Shaun was difficult. No physical characteristics to go on, the guess that it was Kellogg was honestly just lucky. Regardless, Sole treated Nick like a person from the moment they met, and he'd be lying that it wasn't nice to just be seen as normal. It's only fair he returns the favor.

Piper: Sole was already extremely interesting to Piper, but add on the fact they can't see and she's instantly more interested. What's life in the Commonwealth like if you can't see it? What was life like before the bombs? How do you use your weapon so effectively? She overcompensates for Sole's lack of sight by being reckless, especially when they first travel together. She probably forgets often that Sole is blind, often being like "Hey did you see that Blue?" And then remembering and apologizing. She does get better with time, and definitely publishes papers calling out people/businesses who try to take advantage of Sole. Any papers in the Publick that Sole is in she reads out loud to them.

Preston: He's just relieved that someone came to help them in the Museum. He couldn’t give a shit that Sole is blind, he cares that they're willing to help. The only hiccup is getting the fusion core in the basement since Sturges can't get it and Sole can't get it either. They offer to try and are lucky enough to get it first try and grab the fusion core. After meeting back at Sanctuary he opts to not mention it as it's none of his business. By the time he feels comfortable enough around Sole to ask about it, they're friends and he doesn't want them to be uncomfortable so he never brings it up. He's the type to gently point Sole in the right direction if they're looking the wrong way in conversions or moving stuff out of the way if they might trip on them. He also makes sure that Sanctuary and the Castle are as consistent as possible so that Sole has an easier time navigating them.

Strong: does not appreciate the puny human not being able to see. How can they help him find the milk of human kindness if they can't even see it? He sees Soul as a weakling and refuses to travel with them.

X6: Doesn't care that Sole is Father's parent, Sole is a liability and cannot handle themself as well as a person with sight can. He doesn't like being paired with Sole.

Old Longfellow: Honestly he kind of envies them. They never have to see the horrors of the fog like he has. But he's aware that one day he might lose his sight too. Besides, the thickness of the fog even having sight isn't much of an advantage. He helps Sole the same way he helps all travelers to Acadia, with the added bonus that Sole can defend themselves. 

Gage: Helps sole at first because he can't tell they can't see, instantly turns on them after they become overboss due to blindness being a weakness.

[sarahconnorjr]

Jfc

[palesweetscherryblossom]

Someone needs to yell at Sarcastic Chorus before he pisses anymore people off

🚨 - Ableism, toxic relationship advice about boundaries and power dynamics that predatory people can benefit off of

“Because Fizz is disabled he has no choice but to let other people in and be vulnerable with them while Blitzø’s defences still need to be torn down—that’s why Fizz’s relationship works but Stolas can’t make it work with Blitzo-yet”

Christ on a stick dude that is some sinister fucking shit right there.

[knee-kiss]

AOT | Reiss Mental Aylum 【AU/1970s】 ⊹ pairings ; male!yandere!various x male!prettyboy!reader | [eren, jean, connie, armin, reiner, bertolt, zeke, erwin, levi, mike] ⊹ synopsis ; you start your first job working at reiss mental asylum: a place with not much information, but it should be a nice place to start, right? well... you couldn't have been more wrong. ⊹ general warnings ; DARK/DEAD DOVE/18+ THEMES. Non-consensual themes, non-con drug use, home invasion, yanderes, obsessive behavior, murder, abuse of power, power imbalance, manipulation, physical and mental abuse, ableism. read the masterlist for full warnings. ⊹ this chapter's warnings ; (wc. 7.5k) hallucinations, mentions of medication, zeke being an ass towards jean's worries and hallucinations...

thirteen << mlist >> fifteen

chapter 14.1 treats are for kids

“Nice to see you again…” Zeke glanced at the clock on the wall, but [name] knew he didn’t even really read it. “Thirty minutes after your shift.”

“I apologize for my absence, sir.” [name] patted, sweat on his face making him look even more chaotic. “I—I… just… fell… asleep...?”

“Asleep,” Zeke mockingly repeated.

Zeke stared at him with a blank face. [Name], on the other hand, was a mess. His clothes were a disaster, he breathed like he ran a marathon to get here, his hair was messy… The doctor didn’t try to hide his scornful laughter and just chuckled with no remorse in [name]’s face.

“How messy. Didn’t you look in a mirror before leaving?” Zeke said as he covered his smirk by the back of hand, but it was blatantly obvious he wanted to mock his assistant further.

[Name] tried to brush his hair, ashamed by his looks. He hadn’t even seen the mirror before leaving; he didn’t even think about his appearance. The thought of arriving to this place felt more stressful than ever; his mind was obviously in a hurry to arrive on time to not get into trouble. Well, that didn’t go too well, did it?

“I don’t look that bad, do I?” The assistant murmured while his fingers brushed the disheveled strands of hair.

“You look the same.” Zeke stopped just in front of him. His assistant didn’t even notice the lack of personal space between them until his boss had his hands fixing his collar. The soft touch on his skin made the assistant look at him with pressed lips.

“Wha, uh, erm…” He tried to say something, but nothing coherent came out. The proximity wasn’t that much of an issue, per se, yet… just feeling Zeke’s physical contact on him was enough to make him tense. Not in a bad way, but... Perhaps the whole place, including its people, was enough for him to slightly unsettle him these days.

“It must have been embarrassing coming all the way here with those looks.” Zeke had a certain glint in his eyes when he spoke. It was funny just to see how dumbly his little assistant could act by such senseless, foolish acts. That’s why he liked him—he brought funny entertainment to this rotting place. Because of that, seeing him disappear would be unsatisfactory.

Luckily, that will not happen.

[Name] felt his face warming up. He ignored the world around him while running here, but now he understood Margaret’s low ‘Oh my…’ when he passed by the reception. How embarrassing…! The assistant cringed, his hands turned into fists as he stared at the wall in shame. Zeke wanted to laugh when he noticed his assistant didn’t want to look at him out of his embarrassment.

“In any case,” the blond began, “you were called to Smith’s office.”

The assistant blinked and stared at Zeke. “Me?”

“Yes, little you.” [Name] cringed at how bitter that sounded. “Appears to be something more important than scolding your lateness. I wonder the reason.” Zeke’s eyes never left his face as he spoke the last sentence, quickly noticing [Name]’s form tensing.

“I… wonder.”

Zeke gently brushed [name]’s hair with his fingers. “And you didn’t forget about our deal, did you?”

“Deal…?” [Name] stared at Zeke, trying to look for the answer. Then the blond showed a small smirk.

Oh. Shit. His eyes widened when he remembered that childish deal. That stupid, idiotic deal. “The deal.”

The blond uncaringly fixed [name]’s coat. “Yes, the deal. Our deal.”

[Name] felt his insides turn. He gritted his teeth when his mind screamed at him how childish and foolish this whole thing was. “I don’t think I can do that.”

“You will.” Zeke scratched his ear as he stepped away. “Or Connie will be put away from your little sessions.”

“What?!” [Name] couldn’t stop himself from reacting. His shoulders raised in fright as he tried to hastily get near Zeke. “You didn’t say that back then! It was just to play a card game!”

Zeke seemed to find amusing by how quickly his mood shifted by the change of rules. He held his laugh for the fake respect his assistant deserved. “I changed my mind.”

The assistant felt betrayed—just… what did this man want? To watch him beg? To make a fool of himself? He bit his lips as he looked at the floor, clearly not happy with the sudden change of rules. “This is not funny.” Is this really how the real world works…?

“Doesn’t have to be for you.” He looked bored. Zeke walked to his desk, sat down, and leaned back against the chair. When he looked at his assistant, he couldn’t hide his smirk this time. “You should run, kätzchen; you’re late. Wouldn’t want to face eyebrows’ anger, if he even shows it to you, in any case.”

[Name] kept quiet. But, before he opened the door to leave, Zeke reminded him of what he had to do with a mocking, loud tone. [Name] just cringed and left without any word.

He won’t do it. He couldn’t. Erwin would fire him after such a foolish display…

But… he wanted that talk with Connie. He had the certainty that he could get something about… what was hidden from him, even if it wasn’t something that important. It wasn’t that much of a big deal, but Zeke had found his interest and played it against him for some stupid reason. Perhaps he just wanted to play him, making him look more like an idiot, to bully him, or to just make him give up.

The ‘adult’ world wasn’t how he had imagined, but he had been warned by people around him once. Foolish of him for not taking it seriously. Didn’t know my boss would act like a child!

It was infuriating, but he could play his cards too.

[Name] exhaled to try and clear his head before knocking on the door. He felt physically sick—with shaking hands and a somber expression, he waited for an answer.

In his mind formed plenty of different ways this situation would play out—would Erwin get angry at him? Well, of course. Would he fire him on the spot? Hopefully not. The poor assistant couldn’t stop the shaking in his hands as the unknown awaited right at the other side of the door.

Until a ‘come in’ from the other side was heard, [name] gulped and opened the door. There he was, Erwin behind his desk. The man supported his elbows on the surface, resting his fist under his cheek. As their eyes instantly met, Erwin’s features softened slightly. Even so, [name] couldn’t stop from cringing slightly as he entered the room.

“Good morning,” Erwin said his name as he greeted him, and [name] could notice a soft smile, barely present. The assistant greeted him back. “You are pretty late.” Erwin’s tone was gentler—a contrast from Zeke’s.

[Name] swallowed. “I’m sorry—it won’t happen again, sir. I just didn’t wake up on time and—”

Erwin raised his hand that caused [name] to press his lips tightly. What would he say? Would his paycheck be affected? If it was, then he would surely get kicked out of his apartment and—

“That’s not why I called you.” The blond dismissed his worries with his usual smile. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten: I called you to talk about our date.”

The assistant blinked, as if he tried to process the words like a computer. “…Date?”

“Yes. Date.” Erwin chuckled, his handsome features softening. [name] wondered if he worked as a model in his free time. “Many things have occurred lately, which had made you rather forgetful.”

The date. The damn date with Erwin. [Name] had indeed forgotten about it. The date… The dismissal of his lateness felt like a bucket of cold water was thrown at him, making his thoughts and worries look like noodles—he was baffled. This was a bizarre situation, wasn’t it? The date. The deal. Was he being played with?

But maybe, maybe if he played this right… something could work here.

“I didn’t forget at all!” [Name] clasped his hands together and grinned. “I was actually thinking where to go! After all, I don’t know much about you, sir.” He tried to play it off, clearly. Yet, as his tone turned firm and confident, the assistant noticed Erwin’s amused smile. He saw through him—but, perhaps…

“Is that so?” He rested his jaw on his palm, arching a brow. “And which places you’ve thought about, hmm? I thought we we’re just going for coffee, as I suggested.”

[Name] tilted his head and glanced everywhere but Erwin’s face. He hummed loudly. Think! THINK ABOUT ANYTHING IN THIS ROTTING CITY! “We should go to the movies!”

WHAT? ERWIN TO THE MOVIES? THE PLACE IS ROTTING!

The city was… not in a great shape, overall. It was barely a big city—it had enough to categorize it as one, but it was obvious it was neglected enough by its government to make it look like the worst part of New York, even if it was not New York.

There was another town near the hospital, though. But [name] had never gone there before, nor knew about what was available there. Going there was a gamble.

“Aaand… we should go to that coffee you mentioned after! I know one place that has very good bread as well.” He grinned. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“Very good bread, you say?” Erwin tapped the desk with his finger. His gaze bored onto the assistant as he playfully smirked at such amusing sight. “And you have decided on the movie? Or is that something else you’re going to improvise?” The director stood up, his imposing figure approaching [Name].

The deer laughed nervously. “Nothing about that! We can decide together as we get there. I’ve heard there’s a new horror movie, ehm… The Forgotten or something…? Ahem, I’ve heard it’s pretty good!”

Erwin’s amused smile didn’t falter. How cute, he thought. His figure towered over the deer’s as he stepped forward. Improvised or not, Erwin was counting the days of this date—the date that he had wished even before the assistant stepped into this white hell.

He leaned towards the assistant to say—whisper—something. Perhaps a silly thing that would make him feel shy, or…

Now or never, [name] thought nervously as his body cringed in preparation. He looks happy enough, better now that he’s in a good mood, right? Please still pay me. Please please please please plea—

With the lowest voice possible, he barely got it out: “Ehm… fuck off.” [name] tightly closed his eyes and waited for the worst. He was going to be fired. He was going to be in a missing person poster. Not only that, but he was going to disappear from the face of the planet if his beating heart didn’t kill him with a heart attack before.

Erwin blinked. And blinked again. And then, raised a brow. No word came out of those lips, but the poor deer could tell the sudden violence appalled or infuriated him. [name]’s figure was anything but confident—both his hands and legs trembled like a leaf. He turned paler, he bite his lower lip by the anxiety clouding his senses.

And then, Erwin’s voice, as deep and intimidating as it ever was, broke through the silence. “That wasn’t you, was it?”

The assistant played with his fingers while his eyes focused on the floor. He sounds really mad. I don’t even need to see his face to know he’s angry. The whole atmosphere shifted into something more… heavy, as if gravity forced him to shrink more and more. Ratting out Zeke didn’t sound viable. No—hearing Erwin’s voice told him enough to not try to even move.

After no answer, Erwin let out a strained chuckle. A shiver traveled down [name]’s spine. Had he ever seen this side of Erwin? Well… he had always been… playful...? Angrily playful. Or playfully angry. Even if the deer had messed up in the past days, there was certain protective anger.

The assistant went rigid as Erwin firmly, yet gently grabbed his jaw to lift his face. He cracked an eye open slightly as if he was a frightened child ready for punishment.

“I’m not mad,” Erwin said, but the assistant was anything but convinced. The man had a blank face that looked surprisingly calm, but anybody could tell those eyes held a glint of displeasure. “But don’t attempt a second time.” His commanding tone was enough to tell he was an authority that had to be respected, even if the deer was allowed to get away with certain things.

Erwin was a patient man, but he also had his limits.

Although he preferred his deer to reach beyond those limits.

“S…Sorry, sir…” [name] stuttering came back by such horror show. “It was just… a prank...? Heh…”

“A prank…” Erwin whispered, his grip tensing slightly. An unamused expression formed on his face as his eyes glanced somewhere else. “I can take a guess who’s the mastermind.”

The assistant flinched by Erwin’s grip. “Forgive me, sir.”

“I’ll forgive you if you call me Erwin instead.” His blue eyes returned to look at his deer, the playful glint once again present. His hand freed the deer’s jaw, not before his thumb ghosted a touch on the assistant’s lower lip.

This was the right time to switch tactics, then. Do it for Connie and the truth!

“Of course, Erwin!” [name] tried to calm his nerves and play his cards this round. He nodded eagerly, staring right into Erwin’s eyes.

The blond hummed at such shift, but said: “You may go now.” He retreated to his seat behind the desk.

[name] was more than ready to leave, but stopped after he turned away. He faced Erwin once again, who had a raised eyebrow at what the little assistant was going to do next. The deer shifted his play—hiding his hands behind his back, playing with his foot, and lowering his head slightly to see Erwin under his eyelashes.

“Um… Erwin…” He softly spoke, which took Erwin’s attention pretty quickly. The man narrowed his eyes by such… act. “I just… wanted to ask something reaaally small…? If I may, of course!”

Erwin kept quiet as he took a hint on what was going on. He chuckled softly and leaned against the seat, his hands folded on his lap. “What is it?”

“I, uhm… I was wondering if…” [name] brushed some strands of hair behind his ear. “If you can let Connie and I play Uno in the next session…”

Erwin shifted his posture. He rested his elbow on the desk, and tapped his finger on the surface, eyes impassive but unwavering.

Can’t win if I don’t make a fool of myself, huh…

“Uno?” Erwin tilted his head, his eyes having a glint of interest.

“It’s a card game! It’s… recent, but fun,” the assistant explained. “Maybe we can play it sometime between breaks.”

Erwin hummed. The assistant didn’t know if the man was preparing to reject his idea or giving it a thought, so he acted before the blond even opened his mouth.

“It’s just that… I think it would be a nice way to get closer to him, that’s all.” [name] pouted slightly, his eyebrows frowning. He had done things like this so Porco accepted to go out: it practically should work. “I asked Zeke for permission, but he wasn’t really… convinced. Is there anything that could be done…?”

Erwin’s lips twitched upwards momentarily at the blatant way the assistant was asking for his approval. He rested his cheek on his knuckles while he thought about how pretty his deer looked—so well behaved. Smart, too, since he learned quickly.

“I’ll talk to him.” That was another way to say ‘His opinion doesn’t matter.’

“Really?!” [name]’s eyes seemed to have shiny stars in his eyes by the green light. Such happy puppy made Erwin smile briefly.

“Sure. I have to discuss something with him, in any case.”

“Thank you!” The assistant smiled brightly. “Well then, let’s see each other on our date tomorrow, Erwin!”

After that, both said their farewells, and [name] left in a good mood.

Erwin kept still as his eyes bored into the door where his deer left. To know that four-eyes could easily command such… jokes for the assistant to do made his blood boil. And to him? Ha, Zeke didn’t give a shit when he knew he was untouchable. Even if Erwin desired his disappearance, it was just not possible when they had hired him personally.

Ah… well, such thing didn’t matter. Not if he took what he really wanted—that assistant. That, little deer that he had seen years ago. If they had met once again, even in this rotting facade, it had to be destiny. Oh, no. Erwin didn’t believe in such things, but… [name] made him hold such foolish thoughts sometimes.

And he was just as he remembered him to be—the very same… Just that this time he wouldn’t let him go out his sight.

At least his life of ambition had another type of goal now.

The assistant contently hummed as he walked in the halls. He had taken a small step forward today, but the day of truth was when he met Connie again. Even so, he hoped Zeke didn’t have anything under his sleeve to ruin that… Vincent and him had to think about something.

His thoughts halted when he spotted who he looked forward to seeing.

“Vincent!” The assistant grinned. “I was just thinking of you!” He hurriedly approached Vincent, who gave back his charismatic grin.

“Same here.” Vincent brushed some of the assistant’s messy hairs. “Rough morning, eh? I saw you running to your office.”

“You saw?! Ugh…” He sighed, not noticing how his shoulders relaxed as Vincent’s fingers brushed his hair. “I overslept, and I almost lost the bus…”

The guard hummed, backing away. Then, he placed his hand on the assistant’s temples. “How’re you feeling now? Tried to call you, but, uh… didn’t know you had company.” He chuckled softly, narrowing his eyes a little.

The assistant nervously chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I didn’t expect visits either… sorry for that call. I didn’t expect him to be… that rude.”

“No biggie, sweets. It’s not like I don’t know him.” He grinned and crossed his arms. “You gonna go somewhere now? Or can we have a short walk in the gardens?”

The assistant checked his watch. “I have… twenty minutes, actually.” He looked back at the guard and smiled. “But I wanted to grab something at the cafeteria…”

“No problem, handsome.” Vincent grinned widely, taking something out of his jacket—a packed sandwich. “Your bodyguard here just coincidentally thought you didn’t have breakfast.”

Both of them agreed to go for a quick break to the gardens. The morning was pretty normal—some patients walked around and busied themselves with their corresponding activities, others decided to strike conversations with some workers around (mostly guards).

[name] found a bench, while Vincent decided to stay on his feet to not look like he wasn’t laying down on the job.

They talked of mundane things first. Vincent liked movies, although since he took this job he was too tired to go. The assistant could relate to the stress this job could have, but proposed that both of them went out once they shared a day off. [name] also learned that Vincent was considering finding a job as a cook in a restaurant, since he had “other priorities for the future and didn't want to rot in here,” whatever that meant.

Priorities for the future… that left the assistant wonder about his own. The patients couldn’t stay at the hospital forever, right? They would get better and leave one day. Although his job was to help those affected with the stigma of society, those whom mental illnesses were mocked by those “normal” in society, he couldn’t stop thinking that this place… was too violent...? It was pretty far as well. Trying to find a more accessible job wouldn't hurt.

Plus, now that he thought of it… had there been any relatives around? Visits were a must when someone close to you was in treatment… Yet he hadn't seen anyone different. He should ask Zeke later about this.

“Do your parents know you work here, Vincent?” The assistant looked at the guard with a curious peep as he took a bite of the sandwich.

Vincent became still for a moment, but quickly a stiff smile formed. “Well…” he rubbed the back of his neck. “Yes…? Well—actually… eh…”

[name] cringed after he realized his hasty imprudence. Vincent had already told him that he had no contact with his parents the other day—did his thoughts wandered that far? “Jesus—I’m sorry, Vincent, I forgot! I just was thinking about something and it just came out… I mean, sorry, oof…” He physically shut his mouth, facepalming. How did I forget?

“No, no, it’s fine, sweets.” He dismissed it with his hand. “Things have been… different lately. Just… complicated. My mom and I… don’t have the best of relationships, you know? Just…” He sighed, every word physically hurtful to take out.

The assistant kept quiet, not wanting to make this more awkward. It seemed Vincent was collecting his thoughts, anyway.

“My mom has… some… problems, err… with drugs,” he spoke lowly, his thumb scratching his palm. He didn’t look at the assistant. “It’s hard to talk to her when she just… doesn’t want to listen to me, so I don’t call her that much.” His eyes stared at the grass, resembling a child.

Vincent was tense, the assistant could notice. He looked shameful, and [name] knew very well why. There had been an epidemic of drugs all over the nation, and the city had took a big hit because of it. Most people turned a blind eye towards those who didn’t “handle” drugs, and often received such rough treatment that made [name] wonder how cruel people where with those who were vulnerable.

[name] tried to keep up with any news about solving the issue. As far as he knew, there was barely a helpful program in the works. Of course, this city wasn’t in the eye of the government. At least not to help, that is.

“Does she live in the city?” He couldn’t help but ask lowly.

“In the town nearby, actually. I don’t visit her, though.” He grimaced. “She also has visits I don’t particularly get along with.”

The assistant could get a hint about what he meant. The remembrance of the past made something ache on his back—a permanent gift. “I see.” He unconsciously rubbed his left shoulder, his eyes absent and sandwich forgotten.

Vincent quickly picked up the change between them and patted the assistant’s shoulder with gentleness. “Come on, I didn’t share that to make you feel bad.” He let out another sigh. “This has been going for too long. Don’t sweat it.”

The assistant felt bad for making Vincent open up and confess something so personal, but he didn’t know what to say to make a compensation. Perhaps a secret of his own would make them even. “I… had someone who wasn’t particularly fond of me, either.”

Vincent stared at [name], who now avoided his gaze.

“Maybe your mom and this person don’t share the same problem, but maybe they said the same things.” He rubbed the bread, his lips pressing together for a moment. “So, I understand what you mean.” He showed a weak smile as he met Vincent’s stare. "But we're here now, despite it all."

Perhaps between two souls who had been shattered by the people they loved, certain secret codes between the lines were clearer. Only those who had suffered, understand each other’s pain better.

“I have tried to make her quit, you know?” Vincent broke the silence again, perhaps more comfortable by being understood. “Almost succeed one time, but… her boyfriend at the time was an addict, too, so he didn’t want his main ‘income’ to rehabilitate. There’s not many places, anyway…” He clenched his jaw and passed a hand on his face."

"The treatment is.. too rough. I’ve heard about a new program available but, this city… it's just completely abandoned.” Vincent crossed his arms, his eyes distant.

The assistant tried to come out with a solution. Oh, how nice it would be if you could solve your friends’ struggles with the snap of your fingers… but people like them were meant to struggle through life—their fate seemed to decide that.

Even him, who was supposed to help others, was often lead to dead ends.

Vincent was a nice person, he could tell. There was a thing that made him softer, someone… normal? Being with him felt like being back to his student years. The people from the hospital were… nice, but… he felt… as if walking on eggshells. Vincent brought comfort only one so honest could give.

“You know,” the assistant started to say, “back then I—”

“So here you were,” a voice they knew very well made them both flinch. “And with that… guard.” Zeke stood behind them, exhaling the cigarette smoke. His eyes fixated on Vincent in particular, not giving even a glance to his assistant.

The assistant felt cold immediately after checking his watch in fright. Fifteen minutes late. Oh, I’m… oh. “Sir!” He stood quickly, his wide eyes fixated on the grass. “Sorry, I didn’t see the time!”

Zeke hummed, taking a drag of his cigarette. “Seems Mr. Guard here has been keeping you away with meaningless chatter?” He narrowed his eyes, momentarily glancing behind the guard before retreating his focus back to him. “Will this interfere with your job, kätzchen? Or should we fire… which one of you?”

The assistant’s heart hurt. “What?” The assistant’s widened eyes stared at Zeke, who just stared back without much emotion. “He doesn’t—He didn’t—”

“He didn’t?”

“I’m—”

“It’s my fault, I didn’t see the time,” Vincent cut through them, his stare matching Zeke’s. The blond’s eye twitched but didn't back off. “I was just making him eat breakfast, since he looked pale.”

That simple, firm excuse bothered Zeke. “Ah, so you volunteer to get fired? That’s much easier.” Zeke’s sarcastic tone made [name] flinch. There was a false normality in it, if [name] didn’t catch the tension beneath those words; Zeke's hiding hand in his coat pocket, gripping something.

“Zeke,” the assistant seemed to plead, and oh, how Zeke found it amusing how easy it was to force that look on his pretty face. “I’m sorry, okay? It will no happen again.” The assistant didn’t dare to question Zeke’s power inside the institution, if it was true or not, now wasn’t the time to test it. Not when it felt like Vincent was the only person who gave him sanity. If he left…

The assistant swallowed.

“Come,” Zeke merely ordered without even sparing him a glance. His voice came out rougher than he intended, and the assistant didn’t dare to look back at Vincent when he obeyed.

Zeke turned and walked away with [name].

Silence lingered during their walk back to the building.

Once they got to the reception, Margaret happily greeted them. But, just as Zeke passed by, her face told [name] everything. The old lady even made a face without Zeke looking before loudly gasping. “I almost forgot! Sweetheart! You got a call from… uh…”

Margaret looked through her notebook, her eyes squinting to read the lines. “Aha!” The assistant didn’t notice Zeke had stopped to stare at them. “Some… Mr. Woodburn? Said to give him a call if you could!”

The assistant blinked. Woodburn…? “Uhm, are you sure he was Woodburn?” He repeated the name as he tilted his head.

“Yeah! I made him repeat it because he seemed annoyed by me by not understanding him!” She chuckled, finding joy in the smallest things.

Woodburn… His brows furrowed. Annoyed…? Oh! Then [name] blinked and straightened as if realizing. “I see! Well—”

“Are you going to keep me waiting, doctor?” Zeke’s voice cut through with clear venom. The assistant’s body winced and immediately followed him like a dog.

Margaret mumbled something under her breath. “Someone is emotional today…”

“I’m sorry!” [name] tucked some strands of hair behind his ear. “I didn’t mean to, Zeke.” He muttered, staring at the ground.

Zeke glanced at him for a moment as they walked, then let out an exasperated sigh. “See? I’m not with you for a moment and you do all this ruckus.” He brushed a strand of hair behind [name]’s ear. “Staying with that useless guard? In the garden? You don't even know who he is.”

“Vincent is a good coworker,” the assistant was quick to defend his new found friend. He looked at Zeke, his eyes pleading for a chance of gentleness. When he caught Zeke's features softening, he felt like breathing again. “Why would the guards be dangerous? They get background checks, haven’t they?” He spoke more openly now that Zeke appeared more relaxed.

Zeke watched him, and his eyes returned to see ahead.. “Doesn’t matter. You don’t know who they are. And why are you questioning me? I’m your superior. Act like a pretty assistant and keep doing what I order you to do.”

Ugh! Not the “superior” thing! I’m so—

Once they went inside their office, Zeke slammed the door behind them and cornered his assistant against the wall. He grabbed [name]’s jaw with enough force to sting, but the thumb rubbing his lower lip gave enough false comfort to patch his roughness.

“Such a funny face you made,” he lazily spoke, his tone low but heavy. His eyes engraved to his assistant’s, perhaps holding back something. “My assistant as been acting rebellious lately, don’t you think?” Zeke clenched his jaw, the softness gone.

“Sorry,” the assistant breathed out, his eyes wide. Did I make a face? “I didn’t mean—”

“You didn’t mean to,” he brushed [name]’s hair, and he sighed again. As if the whole thing was something so annoying. So pitiful. “Talk to me, kätzchen. We can’t go back and forth like this if you don’t say what’s wrong.” He freed his hold and backed away.

Zeke leaned against the desk, his hands on his coat’s pockets. “That guard,” he licked the back of his teeth. “What has that guard been telling my assistant?”

What followed was the echo of the old clock ticking. Neither of them moved. Unforgiving eyes glued to the lonely deer in the corner. Cold eyes that gutted his prey while looking down at him. A man that was not afraid of giving punishment.

I shouldn't say anything. The deer thought. I feel… This doesn't feel right. He swallowed.

“Nothing,” [name] muttered, but let out a shaky sigh and recovered. “He has just been kind with me.”

Zeke blinked. “Kind.” He scratched his cheek, humming loudly. “Kind is not keeping my assistant in childish dates to be late. Do you wish to be fired? To be punished thanks to someone like him? You can accomplish greater things, but I can’t put aside how you've been acting lately.”

The assistant caught himself before saying anything. Hearing how rough Zeke talked about Vincent, someone so genuine and honest, made his stomach feel funny. But even he, a naive assistant with no experience, knew better than to run his mouth.

We are going to be thrown at the real world, a classmate had said once when those times fearing about the future came. It’s just ‘nod your head and look down.’

It was real, not matter where you were going. Even if your job was help other people. Nothing was fair because you are not above them.

Wait. He paused. Did Erwin already talk to him?

Zeke narrowed his eyes.

“My assistant can be gullible, which is why I have been tolerant for some time now.” He sighed. “What do you think making your boss look like a fool will get you to? Me foolishly congratulate you? Don’t forget you’re are my assistant. Mine. Not Erwin’s, not Vincent’s.

You’re under my wing. Which means you do as I say, when I say it. Or have you forgotten how easily wings can be clipped? In this place, with barbarians like them walking with us…”

Zeke rambled cruelty words that [name] blurred out. His own mind had its own mess provoked by this argument.

I know… I can do something.

Can you?

I’m strong.

Repeat it until you believe it, sweetheart.

“Sorry.” [name] didn't notice his feet guiding him to Zeke. An automatic response.

Zeke fixed his assistant’s collar and patted his shoulder. “Accepting your mistakes is enough for me, kätzchen. But I will not be lenient next time.” His hands cupped [name]’s face so their eyes met. “This is just for your precaution. You’ve already seen the violence of those… barbarians.”

The sight of blood and death had certainly made him sick. Perhaps Zeke had some points, above his rough handling. He was just an assistant, a newbie. What was he thinking?

The assistant shyly stared back. Zeke’s eyes had turned softer, less strict. Like a mother who had been too cruel and now tried to soothe. His eyes darted away. “I understand.”

Hands stilled for a moment before letting go. “Good.”

This time, his job was to observe Zeke work with Jean. Perhaps [name] was in “time-out” after today. But he knew better than to open his mouth again, so he nodded and followed Zeke like a good boy.

Good boys deserve treats.

I don't need your treats.

[name]’s thoughts dissolved when Zeke’s hand pressed against his chest, halting his steps. The assistant glanced up at Zeke, who stared back at him cautiously.

“My assistant is dreaming awake. Wake up.” It was then that [name] noticed he was so close to hit his face with the door—his nose barely brushed against it.

Another quick apology from him before he hurried to the other room. He sat down behind the desk against the glass, opening his small notebook. Jean was already at the other side of the glass.

[name] observed Jean’s side profile. He looked pale, his eyes occasionally glancing at the corner on his left as if he expected someone to be there.

Zeke settled on the other side of the desk, in front of Jean. Zeke looked careless about Jean’s anxiety or his constant checking on that empty spot of the room.

Zeke knows what he’s doing. Let’s just learn. [name] sighed, rubbing his temples. Maybe he had been overthinking—he still had a long road ahead, perhaps this being his first “real” job turned his mind into a mess. Well, making imaginary scenarios in your head about fucking up was enough to get someone restless.

Jean was the first to break the silence.

“I have something to complain, doc,” Jean said firmly, his arms crossed and eyes glued to Zeke’s relaxed form. “I don’t know what the hell are you really giving me this time, but I keep… I keep seeing him.”

Zeke hummed, tilting his head. “Him?”

The assistant mirrored Zeke, his eyes fixated on Jean.

“Don’t act like an idiot.” Jean gritted his teeth. “You know who I’m talking about—” He rolled his eyes, shaking his head, as if remembering where he was. “Oh, forgot you don’t actually give a shit.”

“…Ah,” Zeke blinked lazily, his hand looked inside his coat, only to remember that he didn’t have his cigarettes. “Your friend, right?”

That seemed to irk Jean more. “How thoughtful, doc.”

For a moment, Jean kept quiet, as if to try and recollect his thoughts. Even if he talked to a hole, to someone hollow, Jean appeared to wish for whatever anguish he carried to be out of his chest.

The assistant scribbled things on the paper.

“It’s only because of… those nasty meds you’ve been giving me.” Jean shuddered. He ran his hand through his hair. Another glance towards that spot was enough to worry the assistant; yet, now it seemed that Jean avoided to stare at it for too much. “Before that, I didn’t even hear him.”

Zeke tapped his finger on the table, his eyes not even sparing a glance towards the ghost. “You didn’t? Days ago, you said you were hearing his voice at night.”

Jean frowned. “I… didn’t. I thought I did, but I knew it wasn’t real.”

“Then, you did hear him?”

“I’m telling you I didn’t! I thought I did but I it wasn’t him.” Jean shook his head to try and dispel whatever mess was going on inside him. Then a shaky, humorless laugh came out from his lips. Brown eyes fixated on Zeke again, a death stare that quickly switched on. “I know what you’re trying to do, fucking four-eyes son of a bitch.”

Zeke’s gray eyes stared back at Jean’s.

After some minutes of contemplation, he spoke:

“You’ve been feeling paranoid lately. The medication is new in your system, it’s common to have side effects or have unexpected reactions.” Zeke opened his notebook, his pen already writing things [name] couldn’t see. “What else have you been feeling or seeing?”

Jean frowned, his eyes seemed to have a magnet towards that cursed spot.

The assistant tapped his fingers on the desk, eyes fixated ahead and thoughts wondering about that corner.

“I hear the people from the church.” His shoulders dropped from a second before tensing again. A glint of despair remained on his eyes, and the assistant noticed the man pressing his nails on his arm. "Head hurts too." He muttered.

The assistant’s finger stopped, his brows frowning. Church…? What church?

“It’s normal to have hallucinations since you’re taking this medication, it’s not out of the ordinary.” Zeke keep on writing as he rephrased what he said, not even sparing a look towards Jean.

Normal? The assistant tilted his head, his eyes glued to an imaginary spot as he recalled the current medications on the market. Hallucinations could be caused if he’s taking more than prescribed… or if there’s another medication being taken. Either way, that shouldn’t be normal. He knew the unexpected side effects of medications, but that didn’t mean that they should be shrugged like nothing.

“Normal? Hearing a dead guy talking to me is normal?” Jean snickered, but he let out a hollow laugh. “Bullshit. That med is venom—you’re giving me something else. I know it’s something else.”

“You’re worrying too much, Jean. Medication is advancing nowadays; testing them is a must.” Zeke’s black expression told enough—this ‘issue’ was over. “What we can do is prescribe a different medication so your state improves.”

Jean clenched his jaw, leaning back against the chair. His breath seemed to ease, but the burning glint on his eyes told a different story. The assistant wondered if he was containing from lashing out. “What would be the difference? I haven’t had a damn day of resting since taking all of that shit you force me to take.”

“All medication has side-effects. You are the one responsible to speak for yourself and let me know what works or doesn’t.” A simple answer. The assistant grimaced at such ruthless words.

Jean rolled his eyes. “You keep repeating the same shit every time, huh? Aren’t you a fucking expert, doc?” Jean grinned. “Am I really just a rat lab after all?”

Zeke stiffened for a split second. The assistant thought his boss would respond, yet nothing disrupted the silence.

Jean and Zeke glared at each other.

“Hmm,” Jean glimpsed at the glass. “These… Me seeing Marco again… that’s not normal.”

“Your situation isn’t ideal, per se.”

The assistant made a face.

“What a shitty thing to say, doc,” Jean snorted. He scratched his hair. “Anyway, that shit is not medication.”

“And how do you know it’s not?” Zeke’s tone was flat, yet, it also sounded cynical. Like a call center agent who had been in the phone with the same client for too long.

“I just know, what’s the fucking big deal? You saying I’m a druggie now or what?” The mocking tone aggravated Jean, as his voice got louder and his face reddened.

The assistant instinctively stood up.

Zeke cleared his throat, his dead-pan expression back. “No, Jean. We’ve talked about this plenty of times before. I’m only trying to help you but I need your cooperation as well.”

Jean opened his mouth to retort, but something invisible stopped him. His head turned to the left, his brows frowned and his eyes widened. The assistant noticed his hands shaking, his nails marking his skin.

Jean stood up abruptly.

“FUCK! Why I’m seeing him again?! Fucking do something about it, you useless man!” Jean threw his chair at the corner of the room and pressed his back against the other corner like a scared animal. “Why is he here?! You’re making me see him!”

The assistant walked out of the other room without thinking, his steps quick and clumsy as he went inside Zeke’s room. Everything happened in seconds—Jean’s clenched fists grabbing onto Zeke’s coat, their faces inches from each other. From here, the assistant thought it would be too easy for Jean to bite Zeke’s face off. Jean looked rabid.

“Calm down, Jean.” Zeke clenched his jaw, his hands trying to peel Jean off of him. He wrinkled his nose, his head turned away.

Jean glanced at the corner, at the other wall, at the glass, and something inside him snapped when whatever cursed ghost appearing only in his universe was everywhere around him, whispering things only he could hear. He slammed Zeke against the wall, his voice loud and choleric. “That’s not him! This is your doing, you think I don’t know?!”

“Jean!” The assistant tried to pry Jean away from Zeke, which only made Zeke push him away before Jean took a hold of him as well.

“Don’t get near!”

“But—!”

“Stay away!”

The assistant froze, his mind screaming what to do—help Zeke or call the guards. Jean was screaming things about “he’s there because of you,” “where’s Reiner,” “I’m gonna kill him,” “What are you giving me,” and other things that [name] couldn’t understand. Zeke yelling at him snapped him out of his panic and he rushed towards the door.

Maybe Jean’s screams alarmed whoever it was nearby, since it didn’t take much steps to find someone to help Zeke. Two guards came—one of them being the one Vincent was often. The assistant decided to stay outside to not be in anyone’s way, noticing how that guard sent him a glare.

Zeke came out with a bloody nose and a faint bruise on his cheek after some time. The assistant placed a hand on his forehead at the sight, clearly horrified.

“S-sir! Are you okay? I mean, despite the nosebleed?!” He took out a napkin from his coat pocket and gently pressed it against Zeke’s nose.

Zeke sighed, the touch from his assistant feeling divine. “Yes, kätzchen, I’m fine despite the nosebleed.” His hand pressed [name]’s hand against his nose, not leaving a chance to let [name] free. He stopped his assistant as the poor kätzchen tried to get away, which provoked the the poor deer to stare at him with slightly widened eyes.

“Uh… sir?”

“Hm? Thought my assistant was going to take care of his boss.” Zeke’s playful tone left the kätzchen bewildered—did the quarrel back there didn’t happen? Why did the man appeared careless?

Warmth grew on the assistant’s face. What’s with everyone doing whatever they want with me! “You can just keep the napkin,” the assistant muttered. His eyes glanced the other way, a small scowl present on his face.

“Or I can just keep my assistant around.” [name]’s hand freed when Zeke eased his grip. He hummed loudly, scratching his head with his other hand.

“Shouldn’t we go to the infirmary?” His assistant inquired.

Zeke raised a brow, as if he had heard something foolish. “For a simple nosebleed? No.”

The assistant let out a low, soft ‘okay’, waiting for Zeke’s orders. His boss seemed to think their next step.

The assistant noticed Jean’s screams had died down. His eyes glued to the door, his mind and body thorn if he should go inside. Just when he was going to take a step forward, Zeke’s grip on his arm stopped him.

“Get going, kätzchen. You must finish all the work you’ve been neglecting thanks to that day off.” Zeke already started walking without giving him another glance, expecting him to follow.

His assistant gave a last glance at the door. What can I do, anyway? He thought, and walked by Zeke’s side once more.

[a-totally-reasonable-username]

So during my neurological episodes, one thing that happens is my eyes rolling backwards and spasming. I've never seen it and i always thought my eyes were mostly closed. Uh. Now i know why everyone freaks out when it happens. My mom managed to get it on camera yesterday and today i saw how i look during those parts of my episodes and holy shit.

Those eyes are wide open and completely white and spasming and i have no facial expression and my body is convulsing. Thing is, i am conscious during this. Definitely doesn't look like it but i am. To the confusion of many health care professionals i might add.

I always joked that i looked possessed during that part of my episodes but i had no idea just how right i was. I am absolutely shocked and also finding this so funny. (Yes i know about the issues with calling someone possessed but i would only ever say that about myself and i wouldn't even think that of someone else and if anyone else tried to tell me i'm possessed i'd run them over with my wheelchair)

[peanutbutterandbananasandwichs]

I almost had a meltdown yesterday, I REALLY should have been keeping a better eye on how overstimulated I was getting at the con, and I definitely shouldn't have gone into work yesterday! Luckily I realised what was going on just in time to be able to do stuff to help regulate myself enough to prevent one from starting once I got home but god no wonder I felt so awful.

[burgershapedidiot]

Hey therians of Tumblr! I've not made one of these posts before, but if you have clinical lycanthropy/zoanthropy or just want to support our neurodivergent friends, please block this person!

They commented this (under my comment) under a tiktok post that was saying that you shouldn't demonize these disorders and that they shouldn't be ridiculed for what they can't control.

1. That's not the only thing people say to them. 2. Why are you throwing your fellow people with a disability under the bus?

Idk if I'm overreacting but this was definitely not nice to see from a big creator. Let's not exclude members of our community that have been around since the AHWW days!

[writing2changetheworld]

Smosh Reads Reddit Stories (June 21st, 2025) - Post 6

I REALLY wish there was a trigger warning before this story. So I'll include one in this post: 6 mentions of death, 4 mentions of blood or bleeding, a picture of the bath water looking like blood - all in the most recent Reddit Stories YouTube video

That's really all that went through my brain during that story.

Not including TWs [trigger warnings] is ableist because stuff like this could cause a flashback(s) for someone. PTSD and Anxiety are both disabilities.

[astro-b-o-y-d]

Picking up on season three of my RvB rewatch today. Feel like Wyoming's supposed to show up soon-ish, but I also feel like that he's still a season or so away.

[a-totally-reasonable-username]

When you and your best friend would both have been thought to be possessed if you'd been alive a few centuries ago, but for completely different reasons >>>>

[littleirontablet]

Bruh I had my dietitian appointment that I’ve been waiting 6 months for just to get told to go back to the gp bc it’s “not a food issue”

YEAH NO SHIT LADY

Literally everything I eat makes me feel sick / throw up and or other really fun bodily functions that I don’t want to even think about

I had to fill out so many forms of invasive and incredibly personal information about my body and the reactions it had, for this lady to NOT EVEN LOOK AT THEM

She saw I filled out the food diary (everything I ate made me sick / ill / uncomfortable) but told me that I will still getting the nutrients I need despite it making me so sick so I should continue doing that

The only reason that food log was filled out our properly was because I was told to, otherwise it wouldn’t be

She said that because I have nice skin (I have hEDS my skin will always look a certain way because of this condition) and the fact that I’m not malnourished (and am not underweight) that there’s nothing wrong with me

So great. I’m back to the start, triggered (she told me my weight even after I asked her not to) and told me she sees sicker people then me and therefore it’s not a food issue and I’m fine.

So yay. I’m completely fucked.

If anyone has any advice or suggestions I would love to hear them because I’m desperate at this point.

[lovevalley45]

#fictober24 - day two

"It's been a long time."

original fiction (power payback)

word count: 911

tw: in-universe discrimination

The nursery felt strange without Grandma Rosemary. 

It had hit her many times over the past few days. But as Primrose flipped through a ledger started long before she was born in her grandmother’s office, it still didn’t feel quite real. It was hers, now, she supposed. Her parents had let Rosemary Marotto handle the books and taken care of the hard labor themselves her whole life. Now it fell onto her and her MBA. 

A knock on the door broke her train of thought. She looked up to see her mother lingering in the doorway. Primrose hadn’t even known she was at the nursery. But if there was anyone harder to keep away from her plants than Rosemary, it was Delia Marotto. 

“You don’t have to knock. That’s why the door is open.”

Her mother laughed. “You sound just like her.” But the comment lacked her usual mirth. Her usual overalls were replaced by a ratty gray sweatshirt, dreads braided into pigtails down her back. “How are you doing?” 

“I miss her,” Primrose answered. “But she wouldn’t want me to waste time crying over her.” 

“Crying ain’t wasting time, you know.” 

“I know.” But she let her attention fall back to the ledger. 

Her mother sat on the edge of the desk. “I don’t want to put more on your plate. But with you taking Mary’s place back here, and just figuring out how to run things with her gone, we’re gonna need some extra help.”

“You’re asking if I’m gonna lift Grandma’s embargo on Daisy working here,” Primrose said. 

She sighed. “Your grandmother said some harsh things about your sister. Some unfair judgements on why she wasn’t allowed to work here, ever again.” 

Those were certainly some words to describe what had happened. Delia had been hard at work in her greenhouse after she’d sent Sprout to talk to Grandma Rosemary, but Primrose had been right at the counter as she’d heard the yelling. 

“We don’t need your monsters running around. And I’ve already chosen Prim to succeed me. When I die, she’ll be the one in charge. She just has a better eye for business. You can muck up your mother’s garden, not mine.”

But Daisy was always stubborn. She just had to dig her heels in. Primrose, not too far from the closed door to her office, could only listen and wince.

“I can control it. I’ll wear gloves while I’m here. Or- or I can help Dad, I’m strong. It’s the 21st century, women can be strong too.”

“Wearing gloves is not controlling it. I would have never let Delia marry my son if I knew all of my grandchildren would be little freaks-”

“I’m not a freak!” 

“Then cover up those scars and do something about that hair. The Marotto name has been besmirched by your lack of self-control. Your sister-”

“Fuck Primrose! I’m not her, I don’t want to be her.” Sprout sniffled. “Why do you hate me? I just made one mistake.”

Whatever their grandmother said had been too quiet for Primrose to hear. The conversation had hung over her like a dark cloud. 

She had known already that her botanokinesis was weak, not as strong as either her sister’s or her mother’s. It dug at her a little that it was part of why her grandmother had preferred her over her siblings, especially after Basil got his terrakinesis. That and being named after her, of course. 

Primrose had never told her mother what Rosemary said about her. Not when she knew how she saw her as her only family. 

“It’s been a long time,” Delia said. “Rosemary designated you to handle the business side of things here. And hell, I don’t wanna be behind the desk. But Sprout’s waited long enough.” 

Would Daisy even want to come back? Last she checked, her sister was getting ready to transfer to UNBC to continue getting her bachelors’ in criminal justice. Maybe her dreams of being a private investigator rung unrealistic to her. But shit, Grandma Rosemary had been wrong about Daisy. She knew that she didn’t have to be like her if she didn’t want to. 

But it was more than that. “What about her Talent, Mom?” 

“She-” Delia closed her eyes, tears slipping out. “I couldn’t let her work with the plants like I do. Not just because of the- the florabeasts, or whatever her and Magni call them. Dr. Merlo said her botanokinesis is practically gone after the accident. She can’t manipulate the plants like I can.” 

It hated her to know that was one thing Primrose was better at than her. Even if by a fraction of difference. 

“I don’t think she’d even want to come back, Mom,” she said after a moment of silence. 

“I loved your grandmother. I really did. I still do.” Her mother shook her head. “But I should’ve pushed back harder. Your father as well. She was still just a kid, and maybe - I don’t know, maybe if we hadn’t been so afraid, it would have come back.” 

“Me too. Maybe I could’ve changed Grandma’s mind.”

She shook her head again. “Prim, you were barely older than she was. That’s my fault. I fought so hard for her against those awful Brashers, but I couldn’t do shit against my own mother-in-law.” 

Primrose closed the ledger in her lap. “I guess it’s too late for regrets.” 

Delia wiped her eyes. “Yeah.” 

But Primrose knew she was lying.

[rachymarie]

Actually if anyone needs proof that language actually evolves in the true sense of the word: (evolves to be better).

I am proof. A 90s kid who in her teens was such a stubborn jerk when someone told her that using "gay" as a negative word is a slur, refused to stop saying it for maybe a few more years. And I am very sorry, not just because I now have multiple diagnoses to validate my own lived experience of disability. That all came after I changed my language for the better.

We grew up saying all the things everyone agrees is not ok to say now.

The r-word etc. Autistic was a slur too.

It was all just commonplace. (It's no wonder many of us from the millennial generation are left feeling kinda screwed up)

It was Bad, ok.

(If you think that's horrible and irredeemable, well what can I say except think about how we schizospec feel still being called a rampant amount of names and slurs, having our symptoms made into "cute" TikTok trends to be joked about incessantly - but we believe and know you have the propensity to change, it's just an attitude/ignorance thing)

But here's the thing, the point of this post:

Language evolved.

We are better than that now.

Majority of us stopped saying what are now largely considered slurs years ago. Now it's just the internalized ableism to work on.

So why can't we as a society agree to stop using slurs against schizospec?

Why can't it be just as "cringe" to pick on/bully some of the most vulnerable people in society - schizospec?

And stop saying people are schizospec just because they are bigots or you disagree with them, that's not how it works.

[the-astrophel-system]

Why Our Alters Mask

tw // brief mentions of ramcoa (no details), using peoples triggers against them, ableism, family being uneducated, brief mentions of deadnaming and misgendering

so, we have a therapist who doesn't specialise in dissociative disorders. but for right now, shes kinda our only option (which is fine, we like her).

but we were talking in our session yesterday and she asked if our mum was aware of our alters and was accepting and stuff. its complicated, but the answer is yes. she's still a bit hesitant, but accepts the fact that we think we have this disorder.

anyway, we mentioned to our therapist that she has been introduced to a few different alters, but we mask almost constantly, so its not like she picks up on it herself.

and our therapist was confused.

again, this is someone who doesn't specialise in this sort of thing, so we do have to talk about our experience and those of people in the community (but y'know she also does have access to scientific and professional stuff, so its not like we're going "our system is the only way it can present").

but i was SO surprised that she was surprised that so many systems mask.

i explained that if you freely drop the mask, thats gonna inform your abusers that what they're doing is working in their favour. they'll learn triggers and use that to their advantage. now, im coming at this from a organic system's pov, we haven't been programmed, nor am i claiming that if systems unmask, they'll automatically be a victim of programming, or later-in-life abuse where the abuser is trying to manipulate the system.

i told our therapist that if you give out your triggers, or you start presenting these switches, people can pick up on those patterns and then use that to their advantage. i clarified and said that i dont think our mum or family would do this to us, its just very very vulnerable and can be dangerous if we unmask completely.

even comments like "you're acting grouchy today", "stop being so childish", and "you never act like this". can all hurt so much and make the system or that particular alter feel guilty for existing the way they do. it would be amazing to unmask around family, but when i have before, i get told im being rude or mean, when thats just how i interact with people. i tease, im a bit blunt, and i tend to swear a lot. im not trying to be rude or offensive, but i constantly feel like an asshole if i do unmask, just because this edgy exterior is who i am.

it can also sometimes be embarrassing for other alters when you do unmask. im sometimes embarrassed by other parts interests, clothes, attitudes, and more. its internalised shit and im working on it. but if we were to unmask, im so worried people wont take me seriously, just because they know of a part who acts differently. and that sucks so much.

another thing is getting told shit like "this is all so confusing", "you have too many alters, how am i supposed to keep track", "you're placing the blame elsewhere because you dont want to admit what you did wrong". comments like that suck so fucking much. i hate them, they hurt, and they're based in misunderstanding.

having many alters (even just any number over 10) can be extremely confusing to others. but i haven't met a single system who expects others to fully know of, remember, and relate to all their alters. all i ask is you accept each new part and if you do happen to remember some names, thats awesome.

it also connects to a lot of gender shit, which our family struggles with. we still cant get them to use our preferred name or pronouns, and we feel like we're too much if we share that we have multiple parts that use different or multiple pronouns. i get that it can be confusing, i understand, especially because my family doesn't see me all that often and if my name and pronouns change each time we see them, it will be a lot to remember. i get it. but my family fills me with so much fear because i feel like they wont try. they wont try to connect with, or understand me. its not fair and its incredibly isolating.

we've also been told that we're placing the blame of negative actions, onto other alters. which, we never do btw. the only time we "shift the blame" is if we try to explain that we don't fully remember what we said or did, because of amnesia. we always try to take responsibility, its just not seen as fair for people to say we're "shifting the blame" any time we try to explain what is going on for us internally. our did isn't an excuse, but its an explanation, yet no one lets us explain.

i explained most of this to my therapist and said that one day we can hopefully be able to unmask more around our family (or even just our mum and brother) so we're less drained all the time. we would get less comments like "why aren't you talking to me", "you're so grouchy", "why are you watching (x show) thats for kids". and more comments like "oh is it (x alter)? thats okay, i wont be mad if you need some time alone", "oh! watching (x show), is this a good episode?", "hey, it seems like (x alter) or (y alter) might be around. i know you're very blunt but just remember to be kind towards your brother", "im not sure if you remember yesterday, but (x alter) and i started this conversation, would you like to talk to me about this, or would you like to wait until (x alter) is back?". or whatever the comments are.

accepting that we are slightly different and not expecting consistency of behaviour, likes, or memories, is so important to us. who knows if this will ever happen for us, idk i guess we wait and see

- virgil (he/him)

[tasmanianstripes]

I'm gonna make an original post because I am not a discourse blog nor am I looking for a fight or, God forbid, for somebody to harass the OP or me over this. I am just a disabled person who's really fucking tired with how people treat accessibility features and I need to vent out my frustration

(As a disclaimer, idk if the OP of that post is disabled or mentally ill or anything, nor do I care. It genuienly doesn't matter. Being disabled or mentally ill or having any kind of disorder doesn't prevent you from being ableist. You can't hide behind "I'm disabled/have PTSD/whatever".)

But I saw some garbage take about trigger warnings today, that basically boiled down to that fanfic writers and artists don't need to use trigger warnings, that it's a fairly new thing and the standard for fiction was not using them for many years, and anything more than what the site requires is just a courtesy, but what ticked me off was these two ending points

(Image ID: A tumblr text post that reads "➡️ It is your responsibility to protect yourself and close a book, or hit the back button if you find something in fiction that you're reading that upsets you. ➡️ You are responsible for protecting yourself from fiction that causes you discomfort." End ID.)

Which I absolutely agree with, which is why it's so frustrating.

Because how can somebody protect themself if the author chooses not to disclose potentially triggering and dangerous content they're posting?

Is it a standard? Yeah. Does it mean it's a good standard and shouldn't be changed? Hell no.

Yeah it is within your right to refuse to trigger tag something, but it doesn't mean it's the moral choice nor that it doesn't make you an asshole. Like not giving up your seat on a transit for a person in need is within your rights and you nobody can stop you from not doing that, but you are being a prick.

I'm all for people controlling their own online experience, they shouldn't demand somebody not post something and instead learn to block and filter their own experience, but they can't feasibly do that if somebody chooses not to use warnings. Just because something is the standard or law or a policy doesn't mean it's a moral choice. AO3's "Creator chose not to use archive warnings" is a good compromise, it can keep the creator from spoilering their story while warning the readers that they're clicking on their own risk. But to post something with absolutely ZERO warning? Yeah, full offence, you're just a cunt.

Call me crazy but it's not "courtesy" when it's about accessibility and people's health and safety, it's the bare minimum you should do to avoid dangerous situations. It's not just about comfort for many people, posting something triggering without any warnings can be genuienly dangerous. If you genuienly think everyone can just click away from a fanfic like that and be only uncomfortable at most then you're naive and sheltered, a lot of people need these warnings, fandom spaces are hostile to disabled people as is. If you want people to protect themselves from fiction that causes them discomfort or worse then you need to give them the tools to do so, you can't just wash your hands off any responsibility and absolutely refuse to meet anyone half-way.

It seems that when some people say "you need to control your own online experience" don't genuienly mean it, because if they did they would understand it's a two way street. No, they just want an easy guilt-free way out to shooting down people who criticise them for posting uncensored, not warned about triggering content.

I swear to god, when people pull out "Well it's the standard!" when talking about accessibility features for disabled people it makes my blood boil. Well it SHOULDN'T be!