#manufacturing stim

[stim-robot]

Steampunk factory

⚙️ 🎞️ ⚙️ - 🎞️ ⚙️ 🎞️ - ⚙️ 🎞️ ⚙️

[stimtoy]

👁️ || huanyangmom

[id: two gifs showing doll heads being manufactured. the doll’s head is placed into a machine that stretched its eye socket open, and a plastic eye with eyelashes attached is placed into the socket by a hand. the doll’s head is then lowered from the machine. end id]

[banner id: a banner that says “please do not interact or use my gifs if: nsfw/kink, exclus/reg, terf/trumed, (no)map/zoo, anti blm/acab, proship, thinspo/pro-ed, sysmed, against good faith identities.” end banner id]

[talos-stims]

robot transgenderism!!!

🏳️‍⚧️|🏳️‍⚧️|🏳️‍⚧️

🏳️‍⚧️|🤖|🏳️‍⚧️

🏳️‍⚧️|🏳️‍⚧️|🏳️‍⚧️

[thebuttsmcgee]

THE SAME PLUSH CREATOR FOR THE LUMITY PLUSHES HAS PLANS FOR A WILLOW AND HUNTER PLUSH SET LETS GOOOOO

[malpractique]

special interests for me are sometimes infodump zone and sometimes it is i am going to think SO HARD about this FOREVER and keep rereading the wikipedia page until i have it damn near memorized

[fishindisguiise]

self indulgent stim board i felt like sharing<3

[lukmanhimel]

winter cosmetics

Stay with Amazon from the start of winter with up to 25% discount. No more cracked body, no more cracked face!!! Message now or click on the link below to buy attractive winter cosmetics at Amazon's most discounted prices.

[merakisphere]

After running my handmade mandala shop for over 4+ years, here are some popular questions I get asked:

Are these really handmade, or do you import them in from somewhere? - Yes, these are handmade by myself. Every order that comes in is handcrafted as you see in the video above.

If you don't have a style I want, can I request my own personalization? - Absolutely! I love custom requests, and can discuss with you about creating the perfect mandala. If I don't have the beads, I will go out and get it. :)

Where are you located? Do you ship to Italy? - I am in Edmonton, AB Canada, and just recently I now offer worldwide shipping, which includes Italy.

I want to try making it! Can I ask you how it's made? - Of course! No gate-keeping here. I believe the process is as soothing and enjoyable as the end product itself. I sell DIY kits with prepared pieces. All you have to do is assemble it. I also have many tutorials on my TikTok and Instagram accounts. Please feel free to ask me any questions as well.

What are some ways to use this mandala thingamajig? - Some ways I use mine, as well as how customers use theirs include: fashionable bracelet, hair bun basket, Christmas tree ornament, sensory fidget toy, unique desk decor, meditation tool, fruit holder, mantle display, air plant holder, gift idea, and more!

Shop my 3D wire mandala stims, bracelets, and Orbi Loops™ from my Etsy shop! Use this share & save link www.merakisphere.etsy.com | Use Code: TUMBLR for a special discount. :)

Thank you for your support! Please consider sharing this so others know my handmade mandalas are #actuallyhandmade! In a world of industrial goods and manufacturing, it’s sometimes hard to know which products are truly made by hand. 🙌🏼

Music: Wander

Musician: @iksonmusic

[wainwrightjakobshammerlock]

What I think disability aids made by Borderlands gun manufacturers would be like. CW for mentions of systemic ableism and weight loss.

Atlas: Sleek and fancy, but also expensive as hell and prone to accidents. Sort of like IRL fancy prostheses or wheelchairs - they seem cool but are actually kinda sucky and very pricey. Don't expect the average Promethean to afford one. Though in this case, it's because they're often loaded with purely experimental tech that was probably shipped too early.

Hyperion: They make a few prosthetic and implant models and that's it. Pretty much all their stuff is aimed at their own employees trying to get "ahead" and not actual disabled people, so give up trying to find one fitting your particular needs. At least they're pretty fucking sturdy (but not against hacking). And no, they haven't thought of adopting those exoskeletons their engineers use for other needs.

Maliwan: Similar to above, but aimed at their general customer base instead. These guys are hipsters who try marrying form and function, and in many cases that means augs of some sort. I wouldn't really call them transhumanist though, that implies respecting bodily autonomy, human rights and not being ableist; these guys would sell arms with tracking chips and neural interfaces that fry your brainstem if you don't pay the subscription fee. And then tell you to lose weight with the new fad diet their marketing department cooked up. The hoverchairs and flavored chewelry are pretty great, tho.

Dahl: They wouldn't. They claim to be reliable but they're actually the biggest cowards in the Six Galaxies. If one of their soldiers loses a leg or something that's grounds for being (dis)honorably discharged. What exoskeletons or other devices they make are purely for war. Plus, the one Dahl employee we see having a prosthesis (Helena Pierce) doesn't seem to have a Dahl brand one. Aside from weird metal rank implants and funky gun-inspired fidget cubes they don't do much in this department.

Torgue: Expect everything to be painted like a Hot Wheels toy and probably explode somehow - either on you or on your enemies. All the mobility aids have jets attached for either smacking ableists with great force or speeding through town. I think Torgue himself wears a hearing aid (from all the explosions) and it looks like a fucking microphone with car parts on it, complete with exhaust.

Jakobs: Steampunk baybeee!!! Of course, the subgenre of said steampunk depends on the quality of the aid. The most basic ones are IRL Victorian era metal arms: flat, spiky, inhuman, but still quite ornate. The ones custom-tooled for execs and their families (looking at you, Alistair Hammerlock) are more "sleek" steampunk, with fine chassis of signature Jakobs brass and filigree engravings. They also make genuine wood canes with organic rubber grips that will outlive you if you take proper care of them... which is definitely shown in their price tags. The Jakobs stim toy line is half weird gear contraptions, half competition with Dahl's fidget cubes.

Vladof: Heavy, clunky, dieselpunk style. But damn if they aren't effective. A standard Vladof boostchair could break through a wall and be completely unharmed. A Vladof AAC device looks like an electron tube supercomputer that you have to haul around in a cart. That's all I really have to say here.

Tediore: I have no idea.

[gauntletqueen]

@citricsinger76 @killerqueengray

The Robot Body Scale ranges from 1 to 10 and reflects how happy I, Zoey Gauntletqueen, would be for a robot body to be my body. 5 is the base, being the same as my current human body. It does not reflect my opinion on the design as a whole.

As much as we all love GlaDOS, I don't really think I'd be happy in her body! Sure, you control and survey this entire facility, but I don't have a proper body with which to really move around. I'm sure she could make one if she wanted to, but I probably could not. I don't know how all her tech works, how to properly work the manufacturing machines or how to design a functional robot body to be build. You're stuck in this one room, you can't even like. twiddle your thumbs! How will I stim??

1.7

[sherifftillman]

thinking about autistic!eddie again (advance warning: posting from mobile rn bc my wifi provider is down and i have typed readmore between colons but whether that works is another matter, soz in advance if it doesn't)

eddie who can't function without his emotional support tangle toy. wayne practically has stock in chewy charm manufacturers based on how many eddie goes through

eddie who doesn't just infodump about dnd and metal and fantasy genre stuff with people he feels safe around, he shares EVERYTHING he loves with his friends. he'll find things he likes the texture of and rub it against his friends' cheeks so they get to feel it too! and he'll point out other phenomena that makes him happy, like seeing multiple cars drive past, one after the other, that are all the same colour. or he'll try to make words/sentences up out of license plates to cheer his friends up, bc that's always something that gets him out of a funk. or he'll make everyone boxed mac n cheese when they visit the trailer bc that's his favourite meal

eddie whos number one detention reason is "talking back" but really its just that certain teachers trigger his echolalia and he can't help but repeat what they say, its not his fault they take offence to it. the second reason is "being disruptive" but again, it's not his fault that they're so unengaging that he has no choice but to stim. hollowing his cheeks out and flicking them so they make a sound. tapping each of his rings against the table in sequence, getting in even more trouble when they stop him mid-sequence bc sure, he'll stop, but only when he gets to the end of the pattern bc why would you stop anywhere else?

eddie who everyone thinks must be slimy n grimy but who has a Very Specific hygiene routine so his hair and skin never feel gross. he also has to keep his nails as short as possible, if he can see more than a sliver of white on his fingernails, he clips them and picks them and chews them until they're gone again

eddie who bases almost everything on his autistic intuition, which the others try and tell him is just him trying to justify avoiding social situations but it always eventually comes out that eddie was right to avoid the people he got bad vibes from

eddie who wears layers on layers no matter what the weather bc pressure relief keeps him the most grounded. jeff gives him the best squeezes whenever he needs them

eddie who LOVES parallel play. like everyone could be playing a one-shot that gareth has been planning for weeks now, and even though eddie gets overstimulated as a player (hence why he's a forever dm) he's more than happy to sit at the table and read while everyone else plays

eddie who is "failing" math even though its his most favourite subject bc even though he gets the answer right, the way he works it out isn't the curriculum's way

eddie who maladaptive daydreams this perfect world in which corroded coffin make it big, they're out here headlining festivals and selling out tours, but sometimes that's his own worst enemy bc one of the others suggest something for the band, it doesn't fit in his fake storyline so he can't picture it working out, even though all the others think it's a good idea. he eventually lets them, but it takes him a while to work this new thing into the Big Picture in his head

[stim-robot]

Steampunk sweets factory for anon

🍬 ⚙️ 🍬 - ⚙️ 🍬 ⚙️ - 🍬 ⚙️ 🍬

[christopheroshea]

I adore the steelworks gang, like more than I've seen other people express online.

First of all...

My little icon Lexi.

They have been known and initially regarded for their silly voices and jolly nature but I don't often see people looking into why they do it. Like their voices make them more wild than Marion who's generally loved by some fans but they also do it in spite of themselves. They and Theo did an entire upbeat song about how much they are failures to railway engineering with lyrics like:

"We're experiments gone bad

in other words whoever designed us must be mad."

These are not the words of someone with self esteem in how funny they are! They even showed them actually depressed when saying 'We can't do anything.' for the final time in the special.

And anyone who knew how long it took for more in-your-face LGBT+ representation in 2018 She-Ra will know that if this special just came out three or four years later, we might've had proper gender-fluid Lexi representation.

As for Theo...

He is still a pure little bean and I feel the ambiguity of his design makes it all the more reason for him to feel bad about his design. I don't know what about his design warranted gigantic cogs on his sides but we don't know what went on in whatever workshop he was built at. For all we know he could've had the Henry treatment, having been dumped on the doorstep on the first desperate railway executive needed an engine, as a last ditch effort for a dying manufacturer.

As for him being on the spectrum, I can still see it in his behaviour. Lexi was truly not gender fluid but once you've met one autistic person, you've met one autistic person.

And some characteristics are visible in him.

His unintentional bluntness. "Are you being scrapped?"

His tics and stutters.

His shakes in excitement, if you were to count it as stimming.

And who's to say he's not limited to physical disabilities? He and Lexi, depending on how successful you can view it having designs as unique as them on British rails, are the perfect ones to have given the body language they were adamant on giving all the engines back then.

Him being so gentle and anxious is generally adorable, so yeah, not so much to say about his actual personality.

Speaking of not much to say, not much to say on Merlin either, at least nothing that people haven't said already. We all know how awesome he is.

Beresford is MY MAN!

Beresford just wants a friend guys. He said in his own song that he was always ignored by engines who just want to get a job done. No time to chat with him. Loneliness can drive him mad. It is kinda sad that his appearance in Royal Engine was not only a sign of the further appearances these characters could've had but how it was also kinda a rehash of the scene we got in his last appearance, so maybe an episode of his own where he learnt to make friends properly would've been fun.

Ah well, at least he got some friends in another life.

And what can I say about Hurricane?

Keeping it real, working with steel.

Since 1902

He is such a chill guy, that while his companion might've had a lot of hard labour in mind for Thomas, he seems so genuine in wanting to take Thomas in while still acknowledging his terrible position. He could've done with standing up to Frankie though. But whatever, that's meant to be a part of his character, and he was voiced by the chad Jim Howick no less.

It's so funny when people say he sounded like a member of the royal family when he's played kings before.

And then there's Frankie.

Oh my god I adore her so much. Her manipulation being legitimately intimidating at the best times, especially when she's actually chasing Thomas down in the dead of night, her musical style bribing him into working for her, her VA's performance capturing all of her personality through line delivery perfectly.

Everything about her class, her demeanour, most of her lines makes me so curious about her whole life.

How is she running this steelworks better than the human manager of the works if there even is one? How are the human workmen so ok with her doing this? How did the other engines before Thomas get into doing her work? How did they get out? How did Hurricane stay with her for this long, let alone not encourage some potential friends of his to work with her? Was she indirectly responsible for Hurricane surviving as long as he did to still be a tank engine after she was built? Why didn't the railways surrounding this fictional steelworks not agree with this most likely non-existent human manager not just agree to get a lot of their engines to transport steel from their works? What did Frankie do? What are you hiding from us!?

The whole mystery surrounding her and her apparently feeling put-down and apparently not evil at heart according to her character profile and her role in the book 'Delivery at the Docks' makes her potential crimes such a goldmine for story potential that I really want to delve into very soon.

And yeah, that's what I have to say on them in canon. All beautiful characters that I feel need more recognition on a regular basis.

[unrestrainedbalderdash]

Queerplatonic Riddler x Reader fanfic

Disclaimers:

I am not a good writer. I am simply making this because I am an aroace who loves the Riddler and and desperate for fanfiction that isn't romantic or sexual and I want it to exist in the world.

This is a bit out of character because I am simply not smart enough to write a genius and I am also not very good at riddles.

Some of it is very contrived, in particular the "worldbuilding" had to be crammed into fitting a pattern for reasons, so it is very janky.

Allos are allowed to interact but PLEASE BE MINDFUL THAT THIS ISN'T FOR YOU.

Also I'm English so there may be a couple of covert language differences if you're American (eg: saw a post where apparently in the US "quite" means very whereas here it's much less intense than that)

Rating: Probably teen

Warnings: Swearing (S and F word), whump (hurt reader), violence and injury, implied ableism, near-death experiences, robberies and hostage situations (not very dangerous)

Reader insert info: Oriented aroace, quoiromantic, autistic (hyperfixating on Riddler)

Word count: 5022

Please don't give me loads of criticism I'm not releasing this to improve at writing I'm releasing this because there's no representation.

You sit in your room, reading the Gotham Gazette. A small smile appears on your face; the news keeps talking about the new crime spree, courtesy of the Riddler. You’re lying on your green bedcovers, kicking your feet and giggling. It is quite sad that his latest bank robberies are going to severely affect the economy, but… look at him. He looks so happy in the CCTV footage. His smile is the most precious thing you’ve ever seen. You love the newspaper, as long as you don’t read the articles. There’s a lot of speculation about his mental state, and, while you do agree that his mental state is probably not great, some of the speculation… it wouldn’t feel out of place on an Autism Speaks advert. You use permanent marker and doodle question marks to hide the more offensive articles. With everything that’s left, you cut it out, glaring at the scissors that are leaving jagged edges even though it is probably just a skill issue. You use Blu Tack to stick it onto the board with all of the other articles and pictures, and pick up those which fell off. Five crimes so far. You scan the articles. The names of the locations… there must be something… Classy and Elegant, a store for wedding clothes, with lots of money… House-Dealing Special Princesses, the estate agents for posh people… River Bank Tower, a tower that was a historic location for money laundering and was converted into a tourist attraction… Worshipping Mr Batman, a Batman fan club with a large following, as well as founders who got very rich… and Rose Petal Association, a very wealthy gardeners’ club. The letters… they feel… familiar…

You quickly open Wikipedia. Hands shaking – you don’t know if it’s from nerves or excitement – you search for Elgar’s Enigma Variations. Your eyes widen. Classy and Elegant – C.A.E! House-Dealing Special Princesses – H.D.S-P! R.B.T! W.M.B! R.P.A! His crimes are all after Elgar’s Enigma variations! You’re stimming, at having solved this riddle. But where will he strike next? The next piece… Ysobel…

You open Google Maps. This isn’t simple initials, the piece is named after a full name… You search around, trying to find something that fits Ysobel…

It’s the next day. As usual, it is raining. You’re carrying a green umbrella, and hoping that, if he does show up, he won’t realise that you carved the handle into the shape of a question mark. Anxiety fills you – the establishment which should be the next target, is very… suspicious. Why So Bell, a supposed bell manufacturer which everybody knows is really a front for one of the Joker gangs’ hideouts. You glance around, nervously. There are legitimate shops next door, it should be safe, it should be safe…

You’re hiding in a bush, shaking. It hurts, there are probably lots of bugs, but… you can’t just loiter in the open next to a Joker-affiliated operation, but… you have to see the Riddler’s next crime. Your umbrella is hidden with you in the bush. You’re getting uncomfortably wet. You don’t think your glasses will ever recover from this experience. Half an hour passes, and you watch as people come and go from the buildings. An obvious gang member leaves Why So Bell. You are shaking in the bush as she walks towards you. Does she see you? She’s coming closer. Closer. Closer.

She yanks you out by the tip of your umbrella. You look up at her sheepishly, trembling. She responds by punching you in the face.

You wake up, and your heart leaps as you see your favourite colour, green. Your heart is then filled with terror. The green isn’t from your many pictures of the Riddler, the green is from a massive vat of acid, and you’re dangling right over it. “Who the fuck d’you work for?!” the gang member asks. “N-N-NO-ONE! I’M N-NOT A GANG MEMBER! PLEASE! TH-THERE’S BEEN A TERRIBLE MISUNDERSTANDING!!” you squeak, terrified. The gang members – three of them – laugh at you. “Why were you hiding in that bush?!” a Joker goon shouts at you, as you feel yourself being lowered towards the acid, “You’re a spy, aren’t ya?!” “PLEASE! PLEASE! I W-WASN’T SPYING! PLEASE! I W-WAS… I WAS JUST HIDING IN THE BUSH, W-W-WAITING FOR SOMEONE!!” “Yer lying!”

Your vision is being consumed by green, and not in the usual Riddler hyperfixation way, but in the way that you are about to die. You are whimpering, trying desperately to stammer out an explanation, but there is no way to explain anything in a way that does not make you look like an alloromantic stalker…

Suddenly, the power cuts out. You scream, thinking that this the end. The Joker goons are shouting, confused. There are sounds of a scuffle, and one of their panicked yelling is cut short. The other two are fighting something. “B-Batman?” you shriek, terrified. Every time the Riddler goes to Arkham, he seems to come back worse. If Batman is here, he will surely arrest the Riddler and send him to Arkham yet again. The sounds of the scuffle stop. You wait, hyperventilating. This is very bad, as you are starting to breathe in the fumes of the acid. It’s rather funny that you solved the riddle, and now Batman came here to save you but will surely arrest the Riddler. You can’t help but laugh at the fact that you solved it for Batman, it’s so funny, he’s going to rot in Arkham! Ha! You’re being lifted up, taken away from the green, just like how your hopes of ever seeing the silly green man have gone away! Now you’re being picked up! It’s funny, Batman’s arms seem nowhere near as muscular as they should be! Isn’t it funny that you’re still in the dark, the Dark Knight hasn’t turned the light on, because dark! Ha! Get it? “Ha… I’ve already done the work, Batman!” you laugh. “Don’t compare me to that pathetic man,” your saviour replies. It’s hilarious, you’re such an idiot, you’re stupid! You’re a fool! You’re just as pathetic as Batman! What even is a Bat Man meant to be, anyway? And now, this man is holding you! From what you can see, the glow of the acid is turning his outfit green! Oh, what’s that silly symbol on his outfit?! Haha! The little question marks in your brain, and now there’s a big one on this man’s spandex! Hahaha! You’re an idiot! An idiot who didn’t realise you finally got to meet your hero! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! He thinks you’re so stupid! He can hear you mumbling about how stupid you are, you’re really not helping things, this is so funny, he’s going to hate you! And now, everything’s going dark like your future! Ha! Ha… Ha… Ha…………..

You’re in a hospital bed. Next to you is your umbrella. “You’re awake,” the nurse says, looking at you with concern. “Wh… what happened..?” “Someone found a note leading to you. You were passed out… Joker chemicals…” Your eyes widen. “J-Joker?! Is… are there gonna be lasting effects?!” “You might be more prone to fits of laughter, but that’s all.”

In the evening, you’re released from the hospital. You walk home, holding your umbrella. You feel an irregularity on the handle, and carefully take your finger away from it. Your heart leaps; there, on the handle… a small question mark, engraved into the wood. You stand there for a little while, shaking, your mouth open in what could be a smile. What could this mean?

You return home, giggling. You walked past Troyte Bank on the way, Troyte being the next piece in the Enigma variations. There also seems to be a pattern to the timing of the robberies – the next is going to be at some point between 1 and 1:30. You’re shaking. You could go to the bank at 1. You… you could see him… you could be in the bank while it’s being robbed… a bank robbery would be very scary, but you could see him! Being an innocent bystander in one of the Riddler’s very own crimes… the thought makes you giddy with excitement. You’re giggling again; the exposure to the fumes of the Joker chemical has evidently given you this new habit. You sound like a teenage girl talking with friends about a cute boy. Your laughter turns more nervous. What will people think when they hear your giggling? They’ll think you’re weird…

They already do, though…

It’s 1PM. You step into the bank from the rain of Gotham, clutching your umbrella, biting your lip to stop yourself from giggling. You loiter near the side, doing your best to not look suspicious, waiting for him… After three minutes, the door opens, and five goons holding machine guns enter the building, along with him. The Riddler, wearing his iconic green spandex, with the purple belt, and the large black question mark on the front. There are little question marks in lines down the sides of the arms and legs. He’s wearing his mask and gloves, of matching shades of purple. The spandex… doesn’t leave much to the imagination. You can tell that he is quite muscular, although not nearly as muscular as people renowned for strength, such as Batman. “I’m tough and elastic, but you have left! O! What am I? A robbery!” he exclaims, gleefully. You can’t help but smile at his wide grin. He twirls his cane as the gunmen usher everyone in the bank to the side. The gunmen tell everyone to kneel, and you kneel down, clutching your umbrella. An old man grunts from having to kneel. The Riddler looks at the group. “Tell you what. Anyone who can answer any riddles will be allowed to stand up!” he says, taking out some cards from within his belt and giving them to one of his goons, whispering instructions for the order they get distributed in. He and two of the goons walk into the vault, and are presumably taking the loot, while one of the goons points his gun at the bank staff, one points his gun at the group, and the last one is handing out the riddles. You receive your card with the riddle on it. You read the riddle: What can be gentle as the wind, or as all-consuming as fire, as strong as a mountain, as beautiful as a sapphire? “Is it love?” you ask shyly, before he has even finished handing out the riddles. He walks over to you, and reads the riddle. After a little pause, he grunts and nods, and walks off. You start to stand up, and glance at the old man next to you who is struggling. “The answer’s water,” you murmur in his ear. He rereads the riddle, and then gives his answer to the goon, who has now finished handing out the riddles. He is allowed to stand, and you wait for the goons to glance away, then give another person an answer. “My, my, you’re very good at solving other peoples’ riddles, aren’t you?” a soft voice says in your ear. You squeak. It’s him. You can feel yourself trembling nervously, he’s so close, he has a smirk on his face. The Riddler gives you a wink, and moves away. He leaves with the goons and the loot he has stolen.

That night, you go home, shaking. You’re filled with emotions, and they’re scaring you. You… you think you might… love him… you’re not sure what kind of attraction you feel… and it’s scary. He means a lot to you, and you want him to know how you feel, but you don’t even really know how you feel. You go and print out the page for Oriented Aroace on the LGBTQIA Wiki. You get out a pen and paper, and start making a diagram, with some bars, each corresponding to a different type of attraction, the main ones you can think of. For the bar about sexual attraction, you can easily put NO in capital letters. For sensual attraction, you fill it quite high. You pause, and decide to write definitions for the types of attraction. You reach romantic attraction, and hesitate. What is romantic attraction? Romance is entirely a social construct… how does one define it? After a minute of trying to think, you just fill it with question marks and print out the wiki page for quoiromantic. You start writing: “I don’t know what romantic attraction is meant to feel like. I don’t feel it usually, but you make me feel something I’ve never felt before, and I can’t tell if it’s a cross between hyperfixation and alterous attraction, or if this is what romance feels like.” You glare at the paper. You genuinely can’t tell if it’s you finally feeling romantic attraction for one person, or if it’s internalised amatonormativity and you’re just hyperfixating and have tertiary attractions. All you know is… that you love him…

The next day – another rainy one - is here. You’re loitering inside Without Nines, a casino, when he comes in, with several gunmen. There are also two women, dressed in spandex with question marks – Query and Echo. The Riddler is wearing a very dapper green suit with black question marks, along with a purple and blue waistcoat with question mark shapes. His light green tie is embroidered with purple question marks, and he wears a green bowler hat with a purple ribbon and a black question mark, the colours matching the rest of his outfit. His shirt is black, and he wears purple gloves and his purple mask. A little smile plays upon his face as everyone in the casino immediately panics, at his mercy. Guards immediately try to fight him, but the gunmen fire some warning shots. “Ah ah ah! I’m going to take a hostage! And if you don’t let me take the money, you’ll find yourselves riddled with bullets!” he says, smiling smugly. Your heart leaps as he starts walking straight towards you. You let out a little squeak as he hooks his cane around your arm, and pulls you towards him. You’re shaking, and do a little giggle, nervous. This is it. He’s noticed you. He’s taken you hostage. And all you can do is giggle like a lunatic. The Riddler is giggling slightly, as he unhooks his cane from your arm, and puts his arm around your shoulders, pointing the cane under your throat threateningly. You can feel the cold metal against your neck. With some of his goons following, he walks through the casino, holding you close to him, letting everyone know that he could kill you if they don’t let him rob the place. And yet, he gives you a gentle squeeze, and something tells you that he isn’t going to hurt you. Query and Echo force a staff member to open the vault.

He lets out a giggle as the group walk into the vault. You let out a little gasp as you see how much money there is. The Riddler chuckles. “Impressed?” he says in your ear with a low voice. He walks in front of you, and looks at your awestruck face. You’re trembling, he’s looking at you, all you can do is stare at the money like an idiot. He giggles. “Alright, then. Looting this place might take a while, so we may as well get comfortable,” he says, a smile on his lips. The regular gunmen start taking the money, while Query and Echo stay on guard at the vault’s entrance. The Riddler puts his hand on your shoulder and pushes down to make you sit on the floor. You let out a little giggle. He sits down, facing you, and holds his cane, resting it against your neck, presumably to establish some threat. “Well, then. Riddle me this. Why hasn’t Batman caught me yet?” he asks. You squeak delightedly when he says it. He laughs a little, a laugh that makes your heart feel so light. He looks happy. “Go on. I’ve seen you three times, now. You’ve solved my riddle…” he says, leaning in. “Not just anyone can do that.” You start giggling uncontrollably. You feel light. He leans back a bit, waiting for you to regain your composure. “Are you always this giggly? Is it from the Joker chemicals? Or… maybe… just maybe… is it only when you see me?” he asks, winking. You giggle more. “Ha! Ha! Hahahahaha! It’s J-J-Joker… ha! Joker chemicals! Ha ha!” you laugh. He looks at you, sympathetic, and puts a hand on your shoulder. Your giggling gets worse, and you feel yourself blushing, and he immediately pulls his hand away. He waits quietly for you to calm down, as his men continue emptying the vault. He pulls you to your feet, and whispers into your ear. “I only have two more robberies in this plan. That’s the… initial… idea…” he whispers. He’s so close to you, you can feel his breath on your ear. He gives a flamboyant twirl of his cane, and holds you menacingly again, putting his cane back to your throat. “Well then, my little hostage, it’s soon time for me to set you free,” he says, giving his handsome smile. You giggle, and blush slightly. You’re looking up at him, and he looks down at you. He lets out a little laugh. “You’re rather adorable,” he says. You squeak, and blush much more. He giggles. “Well, I’ll give you some time to regain your composure, haha,” he says, backing away slightly. You take deep breaths, and eventually calm down. He holds you again, and the group leaves the vault. He places you back with the other civilians, and moves away, his demeanour much more menacing… “Alright! And, just to seal this wondrous little robbery, everyone will give me one of their valuables!” he says, laughing. He looks so happy… you can’t help but smile… He takes peoples’ necklaces as they tremble, a pair of earrings, some fancy brooches… he reaches you, and smiles. You already know what he wants, and you shyly hold the umbrella. Your eyes meet as he wraps his hand around the handle, your grip lingering. He takes it from you, giggling, and continues taking other peoples’ valuables.

The next day, you’re walking through the streets of Gotham, giggling excitedly. Today is going to be the day you come out to him. You spent yesterday evening getting ready to tell him, getting ready to speak. You’ve simplified your explanation considerably. You can’t help but giggle at the fact that you’re going to see him, and tell him everything… maybe… maybe he was impressed by your ability to predict his crimes when even Batman couldn’t… “Hey, what’s that dumb smile on your face for?!” a menacing voice says. A gang of thugs surrounds you. You go pale. “Well? Why you giggling? You think you’re the Joker or some shit?!” he shouts. You look around, desperate for help. Citizens are walking away, only glancing for some spectacle. A furtive woman in a green coat opens her phone and points it at you – is she going to record this?! “Uh, heehee, I, I d-don’t wanna f-fight… it’s… ha… I inhaled some Joker fumes… p-please… haha… don’t h-hurt me…” “You won’t be smiling when we’re done with you!” a thug says, elbowing you in the abdomen and sending you staggering back. Tears are streaming down your face. You’re missing the Riddler’s robbery, surely he’ll think you’re an idiot, he’s going to hate you- you’re punched in the face, and sobbing. They keep punching you, keep kicking you, keep kicking you. Whack. Whack. Whack. It hurts. You feebly try to hold up your arms to block their blows, but they easily shatter your defences. You’re bleeding now. It hurts so much. They kick your legs, and you crash down to the ground, crying. They get their weapons out… one of them has a hammer… You can hear the crunch of your bones as your legs shatter. You can only whimper as one gets out her knife, and stabs you in the abdomen. You’re screaming. “PLEASE STOP! I D-D-DIDN’T DO ANYTHING TO YOU!!” you cry as they keep hitting you. Your vision goes black. This is it, you’re going to die… “LEAVE THEM ALONE!”  a voice shouts. They stop, tense. Your head is bleeding, you can’t think straight, but… it sounds… familiar… Your vision is lit up with blue, as something fires electricity at the thugs. They shriek, and run away, leaving you. There are murmurs among the onlookers. You can feel hands slide underneath your body, as your saviour picks you up. He’s walking quickly. “Hey… hey… please… please talk to me…” he says. Your vision is starting to return, and you can see the Riddler, tears streaming down his face. “Sorry…” you say weakly. “It’s alright, it’s alright, none of this is your fault, please don’t apologise for anything, you will be safe,” he says, voice cracking. “I w-was gonna be there… I… I promise I’m not stupid…” “Oh… oh, baby… I already know you’re not stupid. Shh… everything’s going to be okay…” he says, holding you close as he walks. He is thinking. “Alright… you need me on the fairway, you need me for luck, but when you have me you’re well and truly fucked, what am I?” “Uh… uh… uh… a… a stroke?” you answer. He strokes your hair with his soft hands. He’s wearing a green suit, this time with a purple shirt that’s only buttoned 2/3 of the way, showing off his chest and collarbones. His hat is at a jaunty – no, messy – angle, and his mask is streaked with tears.

He enters a building. You can’t read the sign, but you can tell the initials are E.D.U. It’s dark, this building must be a repurposed warehouse. It’s quiet, except for your whimpering, and his heavy breathing, and quick footsteps. He continues stroking your hair, his hands shaking. He sets you down, and rolls up your shirt, and you can hear his sharp intake of breath. “Uh… okay… this looks bad… I’m going to have to stitch your wound…” he says. You shudder, and he picks you up. “It’s going to be okay… I promise.” He rushes into the bathroom, lays you into the bathtub and turns the tap on, rinsing the wound under the water. He gives your hair a pat, and starts preparing his first aid equipment, sterilising a needle and thread. He holds your hand, and cleans your wound as you whimper. He takes you out of the bathtub, and lays you down, using a towel to dry you. “Listen, you’ll be okay, I promise,” he says. He starts rubbing some cream around your wound, and you feel yourself going numb. He starts stitching, and you’re crying. “Shh… shh… uh… what’s so fragile that saying its name breaks it?” “S-s-silence…” you respond. He nods, and keeps stitching. “You’re a smart cookie, you know?” His words make your heart leap. He keeps stitching. “I do mean it. I really do… I’m almost done with the stitches…” After what feels like an eternity, he finishes, and smiles at you, taking his gloves off. “The worst bit’s over,” he says, stroking your hair. He bandages the area. Now that the worst part is over, you start to appreciate the softness of his hands. You realise he is wearing green nail polish, with a purple question mark on each finger. He finishes bandaging you. “All done!” he says, giving you a headpat, making you giggle. He gives you a warm smile. Your giggling dies down as the exhaustion starts to really hit you. You pass out.

When you open your eyes, you’ve been tucked into a soft, green bed, covered in purple question marks. “You’re awake!” he says, reminiscent of a puppy who just saw a friend. On top of his outfit from before, he’s wearing a knitted jumper, green with purple question marks, it looks so soft. You’re still in pain, but you blush a little, as he reaches out with his hand, then pauses. “Um, would it be comforting if I held your hand?” Your heart leaps, and you nod, giggling. He gently takes your hand in his, and smiles softly. It’s so soft, it distracts you from some of the sharp pain you feel all over your body. “Um… th-thank you…” you mumble. “Hey. I had to save you, you’re like a good luck charm at this point. It… it’s not right when you’re not there,” he says softly, stroking your hand gently. You squeak, giggling. He looks at you, a little smile on his face. “So why do you keep following me? Is it gratitude for me saving you from Joker’s gang? Are you trying to prove your intelligence against the smartest man in Gotham? Or maybe… something else?” he asks in his soft voice, winking at the end. You giggle nervously, trying to collect yourself. “I… I… heehee… hahaha… you’re… hahahahaha…” You’re shaking, nervous, and he can tell. He gently strokes your hand, a comforting smile on his face. “It’s okay… take your time…” “Ha… ha… haha… YOU’RE MY SPECIAL INTEREST!” you blurt out. His eyes are wide, and he looks very surprised. You laugh nervously. “Like autism?” he asks, his smile widening. You nod, cursing yourself for being so blunt and probably making a fool of yourself – he’s smiling wide and crying tears of joy. His leg is bouncing. “Hahahaha I need to come out hahahahaha I’m an oriented aroace I hahahaha don’t feel romantic or sexual attraction but I’m feeling other types of attraction to you,” you say, shaking. He has a little pause of processing this, and smiles. “Hey, you’re valid! So, uh, what other types of attraction do you feel?” he asks, giving a good-natured smile. “Hahahaha I feel sensual attraction where I want to touch you and I feel alterous attraction which is uh it’s an emotion attraction that isn’t exclusively romantic or platonic haha and maybe I feel aesthetic attraction hahahaha,” you say, trembling. He grins, and giggles. “You’re quite the riddle, aren’t you? I’ve taken quite a liking to you,” he says, his smile lighting up your world. The way his eyes light up fills your heart with joy. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze. “You’re so precious. Seriously, you’re one of the most adorable people ever. Seeing you during my crimes… well, now I know how Ozzie feels about seeing birds. You’re like… a little friend…” You let out a squeak, and he laughs. “You’re so cute… may I put my hand on your face?” he says. You nod, giggling, as he cups your head in his hands. “How do you feel about eye contact?” he asks. “Haha! I’m okay making eye contact with people I like!” you respond. There is a pause, as he slowly moves his eyes towards you.

“And… do you… like me?” he asks.

You look into his eyes. Both of you giggle. He gently strokes your hair. “Is this okay, d… may I call you dear?” Your heart leaps, and your mouth hangs open in disbelief. “Haha! I, ha, uh, haha it’s okay! Ha… uh… haha… what… w-what’s… what… what are we?” you ask, blushing slightly. There is a pause, as he thinks. “You seem to be my biggest fan, and I find you simply adorable. I’ll do anything to make you feel comfortable. I’ll look after you… Batman almost caught me last time, so I have plenty of free time…” “What… what happened? Wh-what did I miss?” You feel a little sting at the memory. The pain is coming back, and you can feel tears forming. He wipes the tears from your eyes. “I started the robbery… everything was in place, I had the plan, but… it didn’t feel the same, without you. What takes deep hold and becomes every day, and without it the tree will fall?” “Uh… root… routine?” “Exactly. Seeing you, it’s become part of my routine… you hold a place in my heart… I… my plans, I started planning for you…” You look at him, in awe. Somehow, the biggest genius ever, your hero… has been thinking about you. “Wow…” is all you can say. You’re not even giggling anymore, you’re just repeating the word. He ruffles your hair. “We Rogues, not many people like us. It’s been a long time since I’ve had such a devoted fan… and you solved my plan faster than Batman… you can understand how much that means to me, right?” he says, seeming… nervous? The confidence is gone, he looks… anxious… like he needs reassurance. “You’re… haha… my… ha-ha-hero…” you say. His eyes light up, and he nods his head rapidly. “Um… is it alright if I give you a kiss on the forehead?” he asks. You nod, and start giggling again, as he gently puts his hand behind your head. He gives you a soft kiss on the forehead, making sure to avoid the bandage which you finally notice. He’s so gentle, and the tender kiss is taking away the pain you feel. He lets go, and looks down, into your wide eyes. “With skill, I am paid to save. What am I?” “… Protect?” He nods. “I want to protect you… you’re… you’re too precious. I’ll find the people who did this to you…” he says, wrapping his arms around you, looking into your eyes to gauge your reaction. You have a tired look in your eyes, as you lean into him. “I… I have something for you…” He reaches down, and holds your umbrella. Your crude attempt of carving the handle into a question mark shape has now been greatly polished, but most importantly, it has been covered in vibrantly-coloured question marks. “It’s… beautiful…” “A beautiful umbrella for a beautiful mind, from an even more beautiful mind,” he says, as you relax in his arms and make a contented little humming noise. He gently strokes your hair, and you fall asleep in the Riddler’s arms, your head buried in his chest.

[little-soldiers]

does anyone else HATE manufactured stim toys if so show me what you use instead. My favorite ‘stim toy’ is this circuitboard from when i dismantled . A. Uh. Thing . The buttons are so clicky, the sharp-ish edges are good to press into my fingers and just generally i love chewing on hard plastic

[rum-and-shattered-dreams]

You know… I think craft kits may be my form of stimming. (Aside from the classic leg bounce). All design decisions are already made and the supplies are pre-gathered neatly into one place so they’re easy to get started on and mostly mindless to work on. Then it’s just repetitive stitching or latch hooking or cutting out printed pattern pieces. It’s very much something I do to keep my hands busy and to sort of ground myself.

Anyway the funny part is that if I were calculating the value of finished projects based on the time it takes to make them and what that would cost in pay, I have walls filled with things that are worth thousands (at minimum wage). My cats have a carpet they sleep on that would be worth $1,500 and their quilted beds are in the hundreds. It’s just amusing to imagine my little manufactured home in a trailer park being full of ridiculously valuable handmade things.