Daily Reminder To Go Read Cucumber Quest

battle scenes; swords

Clang. The Soldier drew the sword behind his head. Clash. The screams of battle faded into white noise. Slash. His opponent drops to his knees before him. Shaking hands drop an oranate sword, pressing against the bleeding open wound. With a dull thud, the unmoving corpse falls forward. Never to move, never to breathe, never to live again. The Soldier huffs a pant. The sounds come rushing back. Yells and grunts and battlecries - echoed by the clang of metal against metal against wood. The back of his wrist wipes his sweaty forehead. His armour is slicked with blood and dusted with dirt. Those same elements coated the blade of his sword. He hears more than sees his next opponent. He feels more than hears it coming towards him. A vibration on the ground, beneath his feet, shaking him. Drawing him to the present. He cussed himself, silently. Turned around and pointed his sword- A lithe shadow lands on him from the back of a speeding horse. Sends the both of them crashing to the ground. Panic seizes him. He struggles from underneath the assailant. He struggles to lift his sword. He grunts as he pushes himself free. Staggers to his feet and narrows his eyes. The lithe figure wears the garbs of an assassin. The glint of a hidden dagger confirms this. As do the stealthy way they move. The Soldier groans inwardly. Out of all people, assassins were the hardest to fight. Like grabbing carp with your bare hands. He lifts his sword up again. Angles the tip to point beneath The Assassin’s chin.  To the life-vein he can just barely see. The sounds disappear. Not fade into white-noise, though. It disappears. Everything disappears. Just him. The Assassin. His sword. Beneath the visor of his helmet, the Soldier grins. “Make your move.” The Assassin darts forward. For if a shadow is the absence of light, then how quickly would a shadow move? Very fast, The Soldier finds. He just barely manages to lift his sword up. Block the fatal blow. Force the shadow to retreat. The Assassin does, briefly. Unperturbed, they come back. Shoves a palm towards his chest - a move that The Soldier just barely escapes. The Soldier staggers back a few steps. Places a hand to where he was nearly stabbed. Stares at the pacing, agitated shadow. Still, beneath his visor, his grin grows larger. Finally, finally, he’s found his match. This time, The Soldier moves first.

TRYING TO PROVE SOMETHING

Reblog if you think pansexuals and bisexuals can coexist and support each other!

I'm tired of hearing people argue that pansexuals are biphobic or transphobic. I'm tired of hearing that bisexuals are panphobic. I'm tired of hearing that my sexuality exists only to erase another. Aren't you?

@danidonovan has signed her name at the bottom right of her artwork. Please give her blog a follow for more information on ADHD. 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

I also pull a lot of my information from additudemag.com. Thankfully, we’re learning more about ADHD every day!

Also, remember, that people without this diagnosis can experience these symptoms, as well. ADHD is more chronic and a daily struggle.

Happy ADHD awareness month all 🤗

Agata

“Sleep tight, my flower.” Mama tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. With a soft and gentle smile, she rested a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll see you when the sun rises.” Agata blinked. One hand roughly rubbed at her eyes - while the other flashed as they wrapped around Mama’s wrist.  “Wait,” Agata stifled a yawn. “’m not sleepy. I want to play.” Mama’s chuckles sent warm reverberations through her bones. “Darkness is no place for a little flower to play.” Mama gently pinched her cheek, then tapped her nose. “Sleep. The sun will give us light in the morning.” Agata frowned, her eyebrows furrowing. Yet Mama would not be deterred - and the battle was lost when her mother began to sing.

“Mama!”  The Child clung desperately onto a pillar. The ground shook and shook and shook. People were screaming as they pushed past each other and stepped on each other. All of them, running away from- With a short cry, Agata was knocked onto her back. The ground shook and the feet that were going to trample her were monsters that hid in the dark. For every attempt she tried at standing, there were five monsters that knocked her back down. The rumbling beneath her exploded.

“Agata?” The Child blinked. Gone was the flaming city. Gone were the monsters. Yet gone, too, was her Mama. But...not for long. She tilted her head back, meeting the warm worried gaze of The King. He who tilted his head down at her. “Such a sorrowful face for someone so young,” Hades murmured.  Agata glanced away at that. The hand that was not held pushing stray strands of hair out of her eyes. She blinked as The King pulled her into a stop. Hades knelt down until they were eye-level with one another; until their eyes locked their gazes. She stilled, perfectly replicating a statue, as The King tucked the strands of hair behind her ears. Hades tilted his head at her again. Smiled then - a warm sight that spoke of promising safety and protection. Agata shifted her feet - though not out of discomfort. The act was more of a giddy, excited dance. The King straightened and they were soon on their way. The Underworld - Agata had only heard stories of it, and not many as Mama always thought they were too scary. But here, walking side by side with its’ King, The Child found that The Underworld was not too terrifying to be in. “We’ll find my Mama soon, right?” she asked, glancing up. Hades merely hummed a response - his voice sending reverberations through her bones. “Soon,” he said, glancing down with a smile. “I promise.

comparable should NOT be pronounced like that

I Definitely Went Past The Word Limit

It had been some sort of class activity. My professor was quite insistent that, in order to do well in their course, us students would have to band well together. I had no problem, initially, with the party. I’d been to multiple in my long, long life. Yet somehow, just with the very knowledge of that he would be there as well, I found myself dreading the event.

Nonetheless, I had no other choice. I could’ve waited just a few more decades for him to die off, but then my professor would’ve died as well - and I had waited literal centuries for a professor like them to roll around. Besides, it was a party - those were always highlights of my life.

The fast-food restaurant was cold - almost ridiculously so. They’re always cold, I realise. I dislike the cold, and it only added to my sour mood. The party was going terribly and it had barely begun.

Things only went for the worst as he himself walked in. Still with that ear-to-ear grin. The protegee of being amicable and friendly. Aleia.

He made his way towards an insignificant group of people, laughing and clapping shoulders. It was a wonder why they even found his presence worthwhile - every time he laughed, which was unfortunately often, I felt like claws were raking down my spine. 

I’d glanced away. Clinging onto the childlike hope that if I cannot see him, then he doesn’t exist. Object permanence is a terrible thing that I’d hope to unlearn one day. All it did was make me unhappy. A terrible waste of time and brain space.

Then it happened.

Other people were at the fast-food restaurant. Of course there were - it wasn’t as if a bunch of university students could scrounge enough money to book an entire fast-food restaurant. If we had, we wouldn’t have gone to a fast-food restaurant.

A small child, a mere twelve years of age I’d learn later, started heaving. They staggered out of their booth, their hands clutching at their mid-section. With a faintly heard ‘blurp’, they proceeded to vomit pale cream substances all over the tiled floor.

We were all shocked still. Even their caretaker - the babysitter, who I don’t think had been properly briefed in what to do in such a situation - could only stare, mortified as their charge attempted to upend their entire stomach contents onto the ground.

There was only one among us that had a timely, spontaneous reaction. Only one who thought to move forward towards the vomiting projectile.

Now, I’m sure everybody else there would’ve meant well. The world is filled with kindly disposed mortals, despite what the system of oppression currently wants. Only one was commendable enough, because only one had moved quickly enough to help.

Any fool can be well-meaning, yet the bards always sing about the Heroes who move fast enough to save lives. That was exactly what Aleia had done - he’d saved a life.

Of course, I snapped out of it soon after. I’d seen a lot - this was moderately tame, in fact. Both of us rushed towards the child and gripped their shoulders - dodging the vomits as we did so. I snapped at the caretaker to call an ambulance, whilst Aleia made sure that the child didn’t begin to choke on their own puke.

The ambulance came and went. We went with it, because the babysitter was too much of a wreck to function properly; mumbling, wailing with red-rimmed eyes. There were either worried for the child or for their own paycheck - but that wasn’t what was important at the time.

We rushed towards the ER, the doctors did their thing - but it was what came after that stuck in my mind the most. The parents had longed arrived - worried to death. The doctor had told us all that the child would be okay; news that we all take with great sighs of relief.

Then came the matter of payment.

I’d my suspicions before - the child’s worn clothes, similar to that of their parents and their wide-eyed amazement at being at a fast-food restaurant - were glaring red flags. Yet seeing the parents mutter and falter for their child’s own treatment drove the truth home.

They were impoverished. Most likely on the lowest economic rung of society. Desperate for financial aid.

My fingers twitched. I could help - I knew I could. I was about too, honestly-

But as I’ve said before. Heroes are only those who act fast enough.

Aleia offered to help them pay the fee. They’d asked him how. He faltered - his eyes briefly gaining a panicked look to them. A look that made me wonder - was he in the same situation as the parents? Was that why he had acted so quickly, acted so determinedly? So ready to help, despite not being in the full ability to?

The traits of a Hero are rarely disputed. Kindness, chivalrous, yet what was most of all was the willingness to forsake one’s own self for another.

I highly doubt Aleia would’ve been able to maintain his own education, had the parents taken him up on his offer. It was extremely lucky for him that an anonymous donor soon paid up it all - and then some.

Very lucky indeed, for him. Very lucky for me as well - seeing him greet me with that same crinkled smile every time we met up was an opportunity I could’ve missed. These people were priceless, hard to find, and ridiculously rare.

Besides, being good friends with someone in your class always has its perks. For one, it made my professor very, very happy.

I know nothing and my heart aches.

Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet (tr. by Margaret Jull Costa)

sometimes you just gotta start something with a possession 

If you’re going to spread “Autism Awareness”, then spread awareness that

We still face workplace discrimination

Caretakers are killing us

Autistic poc are killed for acting autistic because it’s “suspicious”.

ABA is not okay!

The Judge Rotenburg Center is still getting away with abuse.

Autistic girls are underrepresented (and it’s worse for Autistic girls of color)

Autism $peaks does not speak for us!