#and have meltdowns that I cause myself instead

[justtogetthrough]

I wish I felt better after the meeting I had tonight but I don’t. I was relying on it to reignite my motivation but I feel as shitty as ever.

I wish I’d been able to hire a PSW a few months ago as planned because I need the help so bad right now. But I can’t add a single extra stressful thing to my plate right now so it unfortunately needs to wait, ironically, til things are calmer and I’m functioning slightly better again. Which sucks. And defeats the purpose. I needed one most this winter.

[ilkkawhat]

don't get me wrong, i do truly love re-reading my old fics but at the same time it just...saddens me when i remember just how like. easy it used to be for me to write. to write sometimes thousands of words a day. to have posted so many individual fics (even if some of them were less then 1000 words) and to still have all these ideas for chapter fics, sequels, new fics, etc and just....not being able to keep up with my past self just reminds me of what i've lost to deteriorating mental and physical health...and now i'm lucky to write even 100 words in one day

[bunnyboy-juice]

awawawawawawa

[stuffieautism]

i’m a level 2/3 autistic who was not diagnosed until a couple months after i turned 18. instead, i was labeled as severely mentally ill and put through years of hospitalizations, day treatment, and therapies, and institutionalized for months. leaving me with trauma worse than i went in with, precisely because i was autistic, and they treated me with ableism for it despite not knowing what it was.

my semiverbality was seen as dissociation or plain old defiance. my meltdowns were seen as intentional and me being bad and disruptive and i was punished for them or called manipulative. my stimming was seen as a behavior that needed to be targeted and shamed and mocked by staff and peers alike. my sensory issues were just things i needed to be “desensitized” to (which doesn’t work that way). i was yelled at for sensory aversions and overload. i was berated and bullied if i asked them to stop blasting music or making so much noise. all while continuing or increasing the intensity of the stimuli to get back at me. i was forced to eat until i threw up nearly every day at one place and then yelled at for throwing up and having access to comfort items taken away.

my needs were ignored. support was denied or removed. i wasn’t able to take care of myself. and rather than being treated with compassion and given actual help, i faced more and more restrictions and punishments and shaming.

no one listened to me when i said how much it hurt, that i was actually trying, that i was in pain, that i couldn’t control it, that i didn’t understand what i did wrong, that SOMETHING IS WRONG.

my autistic traits were a problem with me. they said it was my fault i couldn’t do this or kept doing that. i was doing it because i was a problem child. i was lying about not being able to control it. i was lying about how hard things were and the harm they caused.

i was diagnosed when i was 18. after experiencing torture for years. higher support needs autistics can go undiagnosed. and it doesn’t mean we have the Smart Outcast experience. it can also mean we’re put through a different path of abuse for disabled children. not having an autism diagnosis did me no favors. it kept me safe from nothing. late diagnosis doesn’t always mean people thought you were normal. it doesn’t always mean you grew up low support needs. sometimes it means they would rather have a “mentally ill” child who’s problems are a moral failing of its own lack of effort than admit you weren’t lying.

[ohara-n-brown]

Am I the only one that feels like NTs HATE saying 'I don't know.'

You will not believe the amount of times I'll ask a basic objective question about a situation and they'll give me an answer, only for later the answer to be completely wrong. And then when I ask them why they would give me wrong information - they say 'I just guessed.'

I didn't ask you for your guess. I asked for the information. If you didn't have the information don't just GUESS. Say 'I don't know.'

I feel like NT don't realize that WRONG information is worse than no information.

If I want to know when an event will end and you say '5pm' - I'm going to be mentally prepared for 5pm. And if it DOESN'T end then, not only will I be out of energy, but I'll be irritated and confused because I'm in an unfamiliar situation with NO INFORMATION

Had you just told me 'I don't know what time it ends' instead of GUESSING 5, then I would've prepared for the worse. But now I have to literally rearrange everything in my head and talk myself down from meltdown cause I was given inaccurate information and also I thought I was going home.

But they act instead like saying I don't know is a moral failure.

My father used to yell at me all the time to not say 'I don't know.'

He'd always demand I figure it out and come up with SOMETHING no matter how uninformed or vague and that's how you have NTs walking around feeling like it's a crime to admit they simply don't know something

and instead they'll just shamble something together and hope that's good enough regardless of whether in the information is actually helpful or correct.

IT'S SO ANNOYING. JUST SAY YOU DON'T KNOW.

Stop guessing and giving me WRONG information because it only makes the situation worse and more confusing. Say you don't KNOW. It's FINE.

[eliza-and-her-monsters]

the tortured poets department

Info Post

Moodboards

Part I

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Contains/TW: depictions of autism ‘meltdowns’/panic and overstimulation, slight depictions of asthma. PSA i’m portraying amelia’s autism in similar ways to how mine works and what it does to me so if yours works differently that’s okay! ASD affects us all who have it in different ways 🖤

A/N: i will admit i struggled a bit with this one so it might not be as great. i hope you enjoy it regardless though :,) ALSO to those of you who loved Jinx and Millie’s friendship you’ll probably like this one! 🖤 (also another psa last chapter of 2024 🤭)

WC: 4.6k

Part IV

The Bolter

It felt like every inch of me was shaking as I speed-walked down the hallway towards the locker room. My arms tightly wound around myself as Vi’s words echoed in my head like an angry mantra. No, no no no… you will not victimize yourself right now. Take care of Ellie. For once just take care of someone else. It wasn’t to say I hadn’t been yelled at before, countless times I found myself on the receiving end of my parents frustrated anger or my tutors’ impatience. Even Caitlyn and I had for sure gotten into a few screaming matches before. But for some reason hearing it from Vi’s voice hurt more than anyone else’s.

I roughly wiped at my eyes before I could push my way into the locker room, momentarily forgetting about the contacts that had been shoved into them which caused me to grimace at the feeling of them shifting. I tried to blink away the blurriness as I stepped into the room. Ellie stood over the sink, already shrugged off all of her gear now clad in a simple black tank top as she carefully dabbed at the splotch underneath her eye with a wet cloth. “Ellie? A-Are you okay? How’s your head?” I questioned as I cautiously crept into the empty locker room.

“Haven’t had any complaints yet.” She joked with a shrug causing my expression to fade into a little scowl. “Relax, I’m fine. My ego’s more bruised than anything, I think.” She sighed as she whirled around to face me, cautiously pulling the cloth away from the glowing ice burn along her cheekbone.

“It’s gonna leave a sick scar, you should say ‘you should see the other guy.’” I teased, gently pressing on her shoulder to get her to sit down until she hoisted herself up on the sink.

Her lips upturned in a slight smile as she let out a little chuckle. “Except I’m pretty sure she looks a whole lot better than me.”

“Not whenever she made an ass of herself.” I spoke, eyebrows drawing together in a look of concentration as I stole the warm cloth from her hands to press to her cheekbone instead. Ellie hissed a bit in pain, curling her hands around the counter of the sink with a shuddering breath.

“Fuck, all this time out of service and it’s made my pain tolerance eat shit.” She remarked with a small cringe screwed on her face before it softened. “A-Are you okay? After what she called you? I-I don’t even know why she did it- that was so disgusting-“

“Els, I’m okay.” I confirmed, softly stroking her shoulder with my free hand. “I’ve been called worse.”

“You shouldn’t have been.” She spoke with a shake of her head, slowly and carefully the weight against my hand increasing as she leaned into my touch. “I’m sorry I- I should’ve known she was going to be an ass today after yesterday and I-I should’ve kept you from it I-”

“Ellie…” I frowned, my facial expression shifting into one that was slightly more stern as I took my other hand to hold the other side of her face with. Her green eyes were glassy, as if she was holding back an absolute avalanche of tears. So much more innocent than she would ever let herself show… except for maybe to me. “You’ve gotta stop blaming yourself for things that aren’t your fault.”

She let her eyes shift, a subtle understanding between the two of us as she peered downwards. “It’s not as if she doesn’t have a right to be angry. Her- Her dad- He was a civilian doctor on base with us.“ Her throat bobbed as she tried to recount the tale with as much strength as she could. “Some of the guys that were stationed with me were… these disgusting pigs that thought because they were in the army they had some sort of authority over civilians though and took to harassing the shit out of him basically until they were forced to move. I don’t know why she blames me… maybe I guess because I’m the only one left she can blame. Or just an easy target.” She ran a slightly shaking hand through her hair. “I’ve tried to be friends with her so many times but she just isn’t having any of it and takes so much of her anger out on me I-I don’t know what to do.”

I didn’t know what else to say, I seldom did whenever she told me some of the stories of her past. All of my own suddenly seeming to pale in comparison. She was never a fan of the narrative that it was selfish to be so depressed whenever other people ‘had it worse though. It was her who taught me that bravery came in so many different forms. Nevertheless I let my lips press to her forehead before pulling her into my arms, being propped up on the sink counter finally allowing her to snuggle her head into my shoulder as she wrapped her own arms around me.

“It’s much too difficult to not love you. I think one day she’ll see that.” I gave her another gentle squeeze, lingering there for just a second longer before I heard the swing of the door opening.

Ellie immediately slid down from the sink, moving in front of me almost protectively just before Vi stepped around the corner with that same scowl on her face, though she seemed to be trying to hide it more this time. “So, you gonna lose the eye?” She remarked with a hint of humor behind her tone as she pulled the gloves from her bruised fingers.

“Oh uhhh yeah, probably gonna have to amputate.” She teased mildly before making her way towards the lockers. “Where’s Abby?”

“Brief suspended absence… to get her shit together.” Her words seemed to hold more information than she let on. “Sevika wants you to take the rest of the day off though too since you looked pretty shaken up.”

“That’s humiliating.” Ellie huffed as she retreated back towards her locker to pull out a simple grey hoodie to pull on over her tank.

“Els, it isn’t so bad, I mean we have club rush later on today anyways, you could probably use the extra time.” I frowned once more, always trying my hardest to be positive whenever Ellie of all people couldn’t. She was always better at excelling with that kind of thing than I was.

“I guess, I just… I don’t know. How I long for ego dissolution.” She voiced with a shake of her head as she pulled a Carhartt beanie over her head. “I think I’m gonna head back to our place and hit the showers but I can meet you at club rush later on?”

“Sure, just text me.” I added just before she slung her backpack over her shoulder. Her eyes briefly glancing to mine as if she was hovering, wondering if she was safe to do our usual goodbyes. The forehead kisses and hugs, always remembering to tell each other that we loved one another. She decided against it though, just shooting me a weak smile before shuffling towards the door.

“See you, Mills.” She replied, my heart stinging in my chest as I caught my feet briefly trailing a few steps in her direction. ‘God, don’t pull away from me. Please don’t pull away from me.’

Meanwhile Vi’s presence felt like a looming ghost behind me, the burn of her eyes on my back lingering all the while. “Come here.” I heard her speak up with a clear of her throat from her spot on the bench.

My eyebrows furrowed together in frustration in response however, my arms folded across my chest as I whipped around to face her. “You know you don’t get to just tell me what to do, right? First you yell at me outside to leave you alone and now you’re actually telling me to approach you a-as if nothing happened?”

Vi started at me long and hard, eyebrows narrowing in a way that had me instantly regretting my sudden backbone. Nevertheless I tried to maintain my best Kiramman face, slanted eyebrows and darkened eyes that probably only resulted in me looking like an angry or sad puppy. “I was going to apologize.” She finally spoke up after a moment, dropping her hands to her sides as she slowly took a few steps towards me. “I just didn’t want your back towards me whenever I did.”

I drew backwards whenever her body approached mine, my breath hitching in my throat as my back suddenly hit the side of a locker even though she hadn’t even gotten that close. “I’m sorry, for raising my voice at you. I just wanted to protect you.”

“From what?” I whispered, hands shaking as I slid my arms back around my waist as if trying to give myself the illusion of someone else’s arms around me.

“From you seeing things if they went south.” Vi stated, finally dropping herself down onto one of the benches that wrapped around the lines of lockers. “Now… will you please come here?”

I probably shouldn’t have. I knew it wasn’t smart of me and I had probably well and truthfully lost the plot. Her history with my sister was enough of a reason but the addition of the other stuff, the fighting, the mysterious death that I had yet to learn about but was too afraid to ask about. It was all such a bad idea and I knew that. But every aspect of love that had ever been in my life so far had been a bad idea.

I let my feet shuffle towards her, muscular arms sliding around my waist the moment I got close and my breathing hitched in my throat once more as I felt her pulling me right onto her lap. “Does it make you uncomfortable? Me holding you like this?” She wondered, hands gently ghosting along the ends of my hoodie as if she wanted to slip them up the fabric. And I think I nearly wanted her to. “You’re always shaking.”

“No… I just- I- nobody’s ever touched me like this before.” I answered before settling my clearly trembling hands around her shoulders. I used to always shake whenever people touched me, and still did if they were new. Partially because I never knew if it was going to be a rough touch or a gentle one. The same could be said for intimacy, I had never allowed myself the graces of pleasure before. The idea of exposing myself to somebody was horrifying, being so vulnerable and laid out so bare whenever they could choose to be whichever version of themselves they wanted.

“Never?” She spoke, the smallest gasp slipping from my lips the moment I felt her hand sliding underneath the fabric of the hoodie. Calloused fingers dragging along my bare skin nearly causing me to whimper at the goosebumps that followed.

“Never.” I answered, gulping an anxious lump down my throat. My legs shook as they were practically wrapped around her waist. I wanted to tear off her jersey and feel her muscles underneath again. Trace every line of her biceps and the tattoos inked on top of them, her hands sliding up my spine nearly causing me to arch against them. “Vi- Vi, this can’t just be physical. I-It has to be more than that.”

“What makes you think it is?” She questioned, and I almost whined the moment her warm hand left my skin. “I’ve been trying to sneak into that pretty little head of yours for a while now.”

“My head isn’t a pretty place.” My eyebrows furrowed slightly as I peered downwards in what could’ve almost been interpreted as shame.

“The dark parts too then. I wanna see those too.” Vi whispered.

The look in her eyes was too soft to be insincere, and I caught myself searching her face for any sign of it. I came up empty every single time. And before I knew it I was swirling a strand of her pink hair around my finger just before brushing my lips to hers. Vi’s grip around my waist only seemed to tighten as she pressed me to her. I could’ve sworn I even heard a whimper from her lips as I entangled my fingers through her soft hair. It didn’t last nearly as long as our kiss last night had, though I still felt every bolt and zap of the electricity that seemed to connect through us. My lips pink and swollen as she lightly drug her teeth through my bottom one just before I was left breathless.

“I wanna see you tonight… not to do anything I just- I just wanna see you. C-Can I?” It was the first time I had seemed to catch her flustered as she stared up at me with red cheeks, and not just from the natural chill of the ice rink.

It was hard to say no to the look on her face, so with a delicate hand pressed to her cheek I nodded. “Okay.”

~

“Boo!” I heard Jinx exclaim the moment I stepped outside, suddenly feeling like the hoodie I wore wasn’t enough to beat the chill that ran through me as I only jumped the tiniest bit. “Ha! Made you jump!” She teased as she pointed a long purple nail my way. “So, did you guys kiss and make up?”

“Uhhh… I mean-“ I stammered, my own cheeks suddenly a bright red as I caught my bottom lip in between my teeth.

“Yeah, you totally did, it’s written all over your face.” She laughed once more before reaching for a bright blue bike chained up to the rack next to mine. “Relax, new girl, I’m not gonna go all guard dog on you because you’re totally into my sister.”

“How come?” I wondered, almost afraid of the answer as I shuffled up towards my own bike.

“Because no offense, you kind of don’t really look like you could hurt a fly.” She chuckled a bit as she hoisted herself up onto the seat. “Going to club rush?” She added with that same smirk-like smile she always seemed to have.

“I guess… my sister told me it was kind of, you know, mandatory unless I wanted to have a really lonely next four years.” I shrugged casually before hopping up onto my own seat and peddling off behind Jinx.

“You seem like you’d be okay with having a very lonely next four years.” Jinx remarked with another little laugh. “Not that being in the ‘esteemed Kiramman family’ could provide a lonely existence.”

“Maybe if you’re Caitlyn, no, she’s always been the one with all the social skills and the brains and brawn to boot. I mean, she’d always try and find ways to include me but whenever she went to uni it just, obviously complicated things.” I explained immediately feeling my face heat up in embarrassment as I shook my head, “Sorry, I-I don’t wanna trauma dump.”

Jinx’s bike suddenly skidded to a halt nearly causing me to jolt forward as I pressed down on my brake to not speed ahead. Her eyes seemed to peer directly into mine with a look I hadn’t really seen from her before. Was it… sympathy? Empathy? “You aren’t trauma dumping, and for future reference if you need somebody to talk to, I’m here.”

My lips slightly upturned in the corners, hands squeezing around the handlebars as I weakly nodded, “Thanks Jinx, that means a lot.”

“Of course it does.” Her typical grin stretched back across her face before she lifted herself from the seat once more to venture forward. “Now… try to keep up because I’m a fast peddler… and a meddler.”

“I could definitely see that last part.” I laughed just before quickening the pace of my own peddling to speed off alongside her. And for the most part I nearly felt like I was getting at least a small part of what was mostly a lost childhood back. Racing down the block and laughing with your friends on your bike. “So, ummm… you’ve asked a lot about me- what about you? How’d you make it to the UK?”

“Pretty epic twist of fate I guess you could say, dead parents for one.”

“O-Oh my God, I’m so-”

“Eh, it’s all good.” Jinx waved it off easily, “My brain’s blocked a good amount of it out, a ‘trauma response’ or some shit, I guess. But anyways, Vi’s always been a beast on the ice hockey rink and rich people love a good sob story so the second they found out she was an orphaned foster kid with an absolutely adorable and tiny genius little sister the sponsorships started pouring in. So- she played hockey all throughout middle school and high school, I got into robotics and then her senior year she got recruited to Oxford. Then… a few years later I come around and sweep the rug out from underneath her feet with an engineering scholarship.”

I was almost stunned into silence as we skidded to a stop at a pedestrian crosswalk. “Wow, sounds like literal inspiration porn.”

“Oh, you have no idea.” She said with a laugh almost making me sigh in relief that she wasn’t offended. Though it seemed pretty difficult to offend Jinx. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. It’s not like we didn’t go through a lot. The foster system is hardly a walk in the park but… having a super sporty older sister helps.”

“And being smart yourself too… you have to give yourself credit for that.” I suggested shyly with a casual shrug.

“Maybe… at least mildly. I’m a degenerate, but a pretty brilliant degenerate.” She grinned, causing me to let out a little laugh of my own as we continued to peddle along the path. “So, what clubs are you looking to sign up for? You should totally go for drama, the professor who runs it is a fucking lunatic.”

“I don’t know if I’m necessarily a, you know, drama club kind of girl-”

“And do I look like I’m a drama club kind of girl?” Jinx wondered with a lifted brow.

“Yeah, a bit actually.” I answered causing her to roll her eyes in a way that only proved my point. “I mean, maybe, but I’m not like… going for lead role or anything.”

“You know, isn’t it funny how the people who say that always end up being the lead in some way?” She spoke in a sing song voice as she twirled a strand of her bright hair around her finger.

“Do I even need to ask to know that ao3 is somewhere in your browsing history? Or tumblr maybe?” I teased with a snicker that faded the moment I heard the first telltale signs of Oxford’s club rush.

I’m not sure what I was expecting, I guess I should’ve expected exactly this. With over 400 clubs club rush spanned a week long and nearly took over the entirety of the main quad and then some. It felt like a weeklong party of freshers and curious and bored upperclassmen alike. I absolutely should’ve been better prepared for the boatload of people filing in and out of the massive courtyard completely taken over by white tents and set ups every club had probably spent weeks working on. For some reason though I had a feeling no amount of research or planning could’ve prepared me for it though.

“Oh shit.” I cursed, immediately skidding to a stop so fast I nearly launched myself over the handlebars this time.

“Hey, chill new girl, before we get matching concussions!” Jinx exclaimed as she pressed her foot on the ground to stop herself. Her expression softened slightly though once she took a look at my face. Probably as white as a sheet much like the knuckles that gripped my handlebars. “Hey, what’s up with you? What happened?”

“Uhhh… umm, autism?” I stammered simply as I nearly scrambled off of the bike, almost drawing blood from my bottom lip at this point. “Ummm, so- I-I can’t go in there but- don’t let me hold you from it.” My words were a shaking mess as I tried to drive the bike away from the commotion. Jinx only chased me down like the stubborn girl she was.

“Well, I’m sure as shit not leaving you out here to panic by yourself!” She voiced as she trudged off behind me to find a bench before my knees could give out from below me.

“That might actually be the best option for you in all honesty.” I answered in a shaking voice, finally giving up before I found subtle solace underneath one of the large trees to prop my bike up against.

“Okay, what would be the best option for you?” Jinx’s boots cracked underneath the fallen branches as she watched me drop the backpack from my shoulders. Every inch of me nearly felt like it was shaking as she cautiously approached me. “Because if you honestly want me to leave then I will but- don’t just say that because you’re trying to spare me from something. You aren’t a burden, Amelia.”

I tensed at first whenever I felt her cautious hand on my shoulder, it felt like every sound was getting louder and louder by the minute and I had to fight the urge to not launch myself into her arms right then and there. “C-Can we sit down?” My words shook nearly as hard as my legs did, threatening to give out any moment.

“Yeah, ‘course.” Jinx nodded quickly, already kneeling down to try and clear a spot underneath the tree even though it was already pretty clear. It was like she was trying everything she could to be helpful.

I guess you could’ve said my meltdowns were different than a lot of the ones you probably see portrayed. It was rare I ever yelled or expressed anger, I never hit anything, sometimes I would scratch at myself or pull my hair. But more often than not they were silent killers. The uncomfortable shaking, muscles giving out, the crying, oh god the crying was more exhausting than anything. If I was in public I tried my hardest not to, though most of the time that took more out of me than the actual crying did. All I knew was to retreat. Retreat, run, hide, curl up into a ball and hoped that eventually it would pass. Even though occasionally it almost felt like the aftermath was one of the worst parts. The depression that followed, the shame, the embarrassment, the apologies to everyone else even though I still didn’t know how I would’ve prevented it.

That was the worst part of all.

“What can I do to help?” Jinx asked as she placed a cautious hand on my knee that I was quickly hugging to my chest.

“C-Can you text Ellie and Caitlyn the code word, p-please? It’s pineapple. I-It shouldn’t have a passcode.” I questioned through my quivering voice, feeling like my lungs were already sealing shut in my chest much like they had last night. I could tell she was biting back one of her funny remarks as she slid my phone from my hoodie pocket, and I almost wished she would have before the tears started to fall and I became incapable of anything else.

“Inhaler- I-I need my inhaler.” I practically gasped out as I scrambled for my backpack. “P-Please tell me I brought it, f-for fuck’s sakes! H-How am I so stupid?!” I whimpered in frustration as I dug around through my backpack only to be met with no avail.

“Millie, Millie don’t.” Jinx gently slipped her hands into mine before I could start lashing out at myself. “We’ll find it, I promise we’ll find it.”

“I’m sorry.” I spoke through the sobs, apologizing prematurely before I could get any worse.

I clutched her hands for dear life it seemed. The sounds of various students passing by only got louder, the levels of shame coursing through my body causing me to squeeze myself into the same little ball I always did. Retreat, make yourself as small as possible. My breath came out in wheezes, a slow rattling beginning to increase in my chest until it felt impossible to talk. Stupid, stupid, stupid Amelia.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Jinx spoke, sliding a firm arm around my shoulders until she was able to pull me closer. “Lean on me, I’ve got you.” A sob broke through the cacophony of wheezes as I burrowed my face into the crook of her arm. “Caitlyn and Ellie are on their way, just keep taking deep breaths for me, okay?” I forced a nod as I held onto her arm and let the tears soak into the fabric of her jacket.

It seemed like only a few moments later I heard the rushed sound of feet on the surrounding ground. My lungs only getting tighter and tighter by the second as Caitlyn nearly tripped over her own two feet rushing to the space underneath the tree. “I’m here! Mills, I’m here, I’ve got your backup.” She spoke in an out of breath voice as if she had sprinted the entire way here.

Immediately I forced my hands out to grip the inhaler and shove it in between my lips, sending a blast of the medicated air through my lungs. Afterwards I still held the device in my hands like it was the only thing providing me comfort. Caitlyn gently smoothed out my hair with a soft hand. “You can do a second one, if you need to.” She spoke as I sat there still, holding the device in between my lips even afterwards.

Sometimes I think the person who had supposedly ‘knitted me in my mother’s womb’ actually hated me. Autism wasn’t enough, so we had had to complicate things with severe hypersensitivity in my airways that could’ve been correlated to a development of asthma. Every time I thought I was moving forward and not becoming such a medical nightmare however it was usually squandered by an incident such as this one.

“Thank you for taking care of her, Jinx.” I could tell Caitlyn was biting back her pride as she promptly took me into her arms. For some reason the familiar feeling of my sister’s embrace making me want to cry a hundred times harder. She was always such a quick way to get me to calm down. I always felt bad whenever she had to drop everything and come running. Now for the second day in a row. “My place is pretty close if you want me to take you there. Get you out of here.”

I nodded against Caitlyn’s shirt before trying to pry my face from where it was hidden in her chest. “Jinx, can you text Ellie the address?” I asked, grateful for the stability that was somewhat creeping back into my voice.

“Sure- do- do you want me to come too?” She wondered almost hesitantly as she pushed herself up to her feet. Her usually playful eyes now softened as she still cautiously held onto my phone.

“If it isn’t too much trouble… s-sure.” I nodded with a tearful and weak smile.

Caitlyn hoisted me up onto my still shaking legs where I leaned most of my weight against her. I could tell part of her wanted to carry me like she had done in the past. Like she started doing the moment she hit her growth spurt claiming she wanted me to ‘see what it’s like up there.’ I almost even wanted her to myself, but not here. Not around so many people. I couldn’t make things even worse for myself.

“No, it’s not any trouble at all.” Jinx said sincerely before going to scoop up my backpack for me. “I’ll get all of our things.”

[fireflyinks]

karaoke and cowboy hats

colt seavers x costume designer/manager!reader

there will be multiple parts, this is part one !!

a/n : so so so much fun to write, and probably one of my longest and favorite fics i’ve ever written. i love colt and ryan gosling, and tried to add as many easter eggs from “the fall guy” as possible

summary : colt always seems to be misplacing his costumes pieces, which has him constantly coming back to the costume manager and designer, y/n. the two decide to hang out for once outside of set.

contains: this is just purely fluff and good vibes, no smut, cursing, “will they, won’t they”, part two will have more romance dw

word count : 3.7k

Working with Tom Ryder was one of the most difficult tasks one could be assigned. He was arrogant, narcissistic, and overall just a complete asshole. I had the misfortune of being the costume designer and manager for the up and coming film “Metalstorm”, and Jody, the director, insisted on the most cliché cowboy get ups imaginable, plus a gold metallic touch. Having worked with Ryder many times previously, I knew he would hate this. I had prepared myself for one of his meltdowns long before it actually happened, but it still somehow caught me off guard.

“What the fuck is this?” He stormed into the costume tent, causing me to jump up from my seat in panic.

“Ryder... Jody insisted you wear this.”

Ryder looked down at his attire in utter disgust. “Don’t try to blame anybody but yourself. This is your fault. Are you trying to embarrass me? Do you have some personal vendetta? I’ve never even worked with you before!”

It stung that he didn’t even recognize me from our previous jobs together, but I tried to ignore it. Looking at Ryder’s get-up, he didn’t even look half bad. The gold metallic suit went great with his complexion, and the cowboy hat added a charming touch. But he wasn’t having any of it.

“You have to wear it. It’s not an option. This is your costume.” I tried to act brave, as if his harsh voice didn’t effect me one bit.

“You’re fucking delusional if you think I’m going to be caught dead wearing this. Say goodbye to your job, nobody speaks to me like that. I’m Tom god-damned Ryder.”

The tent’s entrance opened, revealing a very angry Colt.

Colt and I were sort of close, as close as most coworkers get. I didn’t think we’d never hang out outside of set, but I considered him sort of an ally. When he wasn’t performing a dangerous stunt, he’d talk to me about whatever was on his mind and listen to me ramble on and on.

“Just leave her alone, Ryder. She’s not here for you to bitch at.”

It would be hard to deny the fact that I had a small crush on Colt. He was everything I could want; charming, tall, handsome. But in those moments, as he defended me, I could feel it turning to a major crush.

Anger pulsed through him as he walked over to Ryder. I’d actually never seen him so pissed off before. Colt, the easy going, overly sweet, fall guy, was bowing up on Tom Ryder.

I could tell Ryder wanted to say something back, but instead he bit his tongue as he strutted past Colt, making sure to bump shoulders with him on the way out.

Colt shook his head, making eye contact with me. He had a sorry expression on his face, genuine pity for me.

“Ignore him. Ryder’s a jackass.”

I giggled, “That’s an understatement.”

He chuckled, “Anyways, do you have any extra hats? I somehow managed to lose mine, and I already have some stunts I need to do.”

Colt nervously twiddled his thumbs, embarrassed of his clumsiness. It was our third day on set, and he’d already misplaced his hat.

I nodded, smiling. Colt was always losing his props and costume pieces in previous projects we’d worked together in, so I’d remembered to bring extras. Turning around to reach into the bucket of hats, I pulled one out and handed it to him.

“Thanks. And again, just don’t let Ryder get to you. I know you’ve worked with him before, but don’t take anything he says personally, okay? If he gives you any problems, just let me know, alright?”

It wasn’t surprising that Colt remembered me from past projects, but it still felt nice in contrast to Ryder’s forgetfulness.

I nodded, smiling. “Thanks Colt, I really appreciate that.”

My cheeks burned a light crimson shade, and I tilted my head down, hoping he didn’t notice.

As he walked out of the tent, I added “Let me know if you need another hat or anything. I brought extras just for you.”

Colt looked back at me, smirking. “I will definitely need another one, thanks sweetheart.”

The simple nickname made my head spin. Yep, this is definitely a major crush.

—

By day five of filming, Ryder had become okay with his costume. Well, maybe not okay, but definitely impartial. Perhaps because his ego had realized how ridiculously good the suit made him look, or maybe Colt had spoken to him alone about the matter.

Part of me hoped it was the latter.

My job as costume designer and manager was really simple; fix and replace shit all the time. Especially Colt’s shit. When day six rolled around, he had lost three hats, his metallic jacket, and somehow a singular shoe. I’m not kidding, he had stumbled into the costume tent, peg footed, hobbling on the shoe he’d managed to keep. I didn’t mind though. In fact, Colt was one of the few people that actually visited me in the tent, instead of walking in, grabbing their belongings, and quickly walking out, not saying a word or acknowledging my existence. Colt’s visits slowly became one of the only things I looked forward to during filming.

On day twelve, when Colt came in to the tent without a cowboy hat once again, I mustered up the courage to ask him the one thing I never thought I’d be able to ask.

“Do you want to hang out sometime. You know, just me and you? Outside of set.”

The sides of his mouth quirked up. “I’d love that actually. But I do have one request.”

I furrowed my brows, listening intently. “If me and you go out, you have to wear a cowboy hat.”

My mouth dropped open in protest, but he argued on. “You’ve seen me in these stupid things so many times, too many times to count. I’m completely and utterly embarrassed. Maybe I want to see you sporting your southern spirit for once.”

“I’m from Wisconsin!” I giggled, shaking my head rapidly. “I am not wearing one of these things in public.”

Colt rolled his eyes, “Fine, but you have to wear one around set for the rest of filming. Deal?”

I sighed, remembering that I barely ever exit my tent other than at lunch time and when leaving set for the day. “Deal.”

“Karaoke, seven, tonight. I’ll text you the address.”

Colt turned to leave, and I grabbed his shoulder, pausing him.

“I don’t have your number.”

“Oh, yeah.” Colt chuckled, pulling his phone out of his pocket. We exchanged numbers, and he laughed at the excessive amount of repetitive digits in mine.

“And I’m expecting our deal to begin right now.” He said, glancing at the bucket of hats behind me. I sighed, picking one out and placing it upon my head.

“Happy?” I asked, holding out spirit fingers beside me.

Colt beamed, “Perfect.”

He turned and left the tent, and I pulled out my phone and began to update Colt’s contact name, only to sigh and pocket my phone again. Apple somehow doesn’t have a cowboy hat emoji.

—

When my Uber lazily pulled up to the karaoke bar, anxiety pooled in my stomach all at once. I shouldn’t have been this nervous, and I knew I was making this out to be something that it wasn’t. A date.

But what exactly was I supposed to think of this as? Hangouts happen at people’s houses, dates happen at bars. Plus it didn’t help that it was Colt and I alone. I look down at the sun dress that I donned, running my hands down the skirt. This wasn’t too formal, right?

I stepped out of the black car, thanking the half asleep driver, and walked toward the bar. I opened the door and automatically spotted Colt sitting by himself, drinking a small, lean glass of something colorful. The bar wasn’t exactly packed, but it wasn’t empty either. Numerous people danced around as a man in a orange and green polka dot button up did a bad rendition of Lady Gaga’s “Bad Romance”.

Making my way towards him, the anxiety filled my stomach even higher.

“Hey.” I said nervously, sitting down beside him.

Colt looked at me, examining my attire. “You look great.”

I blushed, shrugging. “Thanks, you don’t look too bad yourself.”

He smiled, taking another sip of his drink.

I wasn’t too keen on getting drunk because we still had to go to set in the morning and the last thing I wanted Colt Seavers to see was me throwing up in a bush, but a drink or two couldn’t hurt.

“You want a drink?”

“Sure,” I grabbed the bartender’s attention, “Can I please get a margarita?” She nodded, scrambling to assemble the cocktail.

“So I’m guessing you don’t drink much?” Colt asked, his lips in a sly smirk.

“What makes you say that?”

I chuckled, drinking the last of what I assume what his first drink and ordering another. I then learned the bright liquid was a sunset on ice.

“Well you ordered the most basic drink known to mankind. I mean, at least make it spicy.”

I guess that was true, but I didn’t like experimenting with my orders much. I didn’t enjoy drinking much in general due to the effects it would have on me later.

“I like what I like.” I shrugged, thanking the bartender as she handed me the margarita.

We sat in silence for a moment, until Colt turned to me. “So, what are we singing?”

I coughed into my drink. I hadn’t even thought of what I was going to sing yet.

“Funny of you to assume were doing a duet.” I said slyly, playing off the fact that I was trying to pull a song out of my ass.

Colt raised his eye brows. “Okay, then go and serenade me.”

I nodded at him, walking over to the DJ and requesting “Before He Cheats” by Carrie Underwood. Once Polka Dots was done singing his heart out, the adrenaline had kicked in and I felt as if I ruled the world. Or maybe I just wanted to rule Colt’s world.

The small crowd clapped along as I sang, and I say Colt’s smile through the audience every time I tried to execute one of the runs in the song.

Afterwards, I walked over to him, slightly embarrassed but also proud. “How’d I do?”

His face was covered in amusement. “It was... entertaining.”

I giggled, punching his arm lightly. “You’re the one who told me to ‘sport my southern spirit’!”

He sighed, shaking his head sarcastically. “The cowboy had would’ve made it complete. You missed the opportunity of a lifetime.”

“I think I’ll live. Now it’s your turn!”

I motioned towards the DJ booth, and he stood up turning back for a split second to wink at me.

I was expecting something silly. Maybe Total Eclipse of the Heart, or Sweet Caroline. I was terribly wrong.

By the time the first notes blared out of the speakers, I knew I was doomed.

Wise men say only fools rush in

But I can’t help falling in love with you.

It’s like he’d searched my brain, found my favorite love song of all time, and decided he was going to make me fall in love with him by singing it.

His voice wasn’t perfect. There were parts that were off key and shaky, but the bigger picture was beautiful. I never thought I could fall in love with someone in a karaoke bar.

Once he was done, my shoulders dropped and the tension left my body. It had been so unexpected, the tune had snuck up on me and now I felt head over heels to the man who had sung it. I wasn’t the only one who loved it, the crowd was going crazy.

“How’d I do?” Colt asked me, sipping the drink that had been waiting for him. This had to have been his third drink, and I could tell he was tipsy from the way he spoke.

“It was great.” I wanted to scream ‘It was amazing! It was perfect! Please marry me!’ But thankfully I did not.

“‘Glad you liked it.”

We sat in silence for a moment before I got the guts to ask.

“Why that song?”

Colt hummed, as if asking me to repeat my question.

“Why’d you pick that song?”

He grinned to himself before shrugging. “I just like the song, I guess. It’s one of my favorites.”

It could’ve been my habit of overthinking and examining everything to the smallest detail, or it could’ve been the psychology course that I took in college and obsessively studied over for months, but Colt’s excessive blinking in those moments told me there was a good chance he was lying to me.

Why would he lie over a song?

“It’s one of my favorites too.” I smiled. I’d find out why he lied to me later.

Colt grinned to himself in satisfaction.

We sat there for another hour, and Colt drank two more tequila sunrises, which meant I was now his designated driver.

At about nine, I decided it was time to leave.

“Colt, I’m gonna give you a ride home, okay?”

Colt nodded dizzily.

“Did you drive here?”

“Yeah, here.” He clumsily handed me his keys, almost missing my hand. I stiffened a laugh. “Diane! Close out my tab, please.” The waitress handed him his card quickly.

We stood up, beginning to leave, when Colt turned back to the bartender. “Thank you, Diane, those drinks were great.”

I waved goodbye to Diane as well, reading the “Amy” on her name tag with a smile.

I got him into the car slowly, and began driving him home.

“Hey, y/n?”

I hummed, waiting to hear what he was about to say. Chances are it would be something ridiculous, and I was all here for it.

“You’re really pretty. Have you ever been told that?”

I blushed, and prayed the dark car shadowed me enough for him not to see.

“A time or two. Thank you, Colt.”

He leaned the passenger seat back, and I thought for a moment that he would go to sleep.

“Where are you staying?”

He turned his head to me, and shrugged. “Can we just go to yours?”

I lifted my eyebrows in surprise. Colt Seavers, in my small temporary apartment that I was providing to stay in during the time we’d be filming. It wasn’t a mess since I’d only been staying in there for about two weeks, but it definitely wasn’t guest ready.

“Sure, why not?” I fumbled with my phone, pulling up my GPS app and getting directions to the apartment.

“Can I tell you something, y/n?”

I nodded slowly, ignoring the way my stomach felt when he said my name.

“I actually didn’t lose all of those hats.”

What?

I furrowed my eyebrows, whipping my head to look at him. “Then why’d you keep getting new ones from me?”

He hiccuped, smirking. “I just wanted an excuse to see you.”

If my face was a crimson shade before, it was a tomato now. I felt bad, like I was using Colt’s drunken state to get answers out of him.

“Did you like my song?” He looked over at me, waiting for my answer intensely.

My lips quirked up into a soft smile. “I did. ‘I Can’t Help Falling in Love With You’ is actually one of my favorite songs.”

This made him giddy. He giggled like a school girl, and then stiffened a laugh myself.

“I know.” Colt said under his breath.

So he did know.

“How’d you know?” I pressed Colt for answers. I knew that if he found out he’d told me any of this while drunk, he’d be mortified, but I just couldn’t help my curiosity.

“I heard you listening to it one day on set. I was outside of your tent, about to come in to tell you that I’d lost another hat, but I stopped and listened for a while. You were singing along, and you sounded so good. That’s why I wanted to sing a duet with you.”

At this point, I’m the color of a fire truck.

We pulled up to the apartment, and I unbuckled, getting out. I walked over to Colt’s door and opened it for him.

“Very chivalrous, thank you my lady.”

I giggled, helping his wobbly frame out of the car. “You’re welcome kind gentleman.”

We walked into the apartment building, making our way up a flight of stairs. Well, I made my way up them, Colt tripped over himself with each new stair until he made it to the top. At one point, he almost fell all the way down them, and dragged me down by my arm with him, but he managed to catch himself.

I brought him to my room, closing the door behind him. It was small, the kitchen and lounging room directly next to one another, separated by no wall. There was a door that led to the bedroom with a bathroom connected.

Walking into the kitchen, I grabbed a plastic cup form the cupboard and filled it with water. I handed it to Colt, who turned his nose up at it like I were trying to feed him poison.

“You have to drink water or you’ll regret it in the morning, Colt. You still have to go in for filming, remember?”

He sighed, taking the cup from me and drinking it all at once. “I’m starving.”

I thought for a moment about what he could possibly find to eat in the apartment. Nothing. I’d pretty much been eating take out since I arrived to Sydney.

“I’ll order a pizza.”

I pulled my wallet out of my purse on the kitchen counter. Colt shook his head, reaching in his pocket. “Don’t worry, I’ll pay.”

“You got the drinks, Colt, it’s fine.” I insisted, grabbing my card.

Colt handed me his entire wallet, “I wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing I made you pay for it.” his drowsy eyes said otherwise, “Please, just let me.”

I sighed, taking his wallet from him, “Thank you.” I said under my breath.

Colt only winked at me, lazily walking to the couch and plopping himself on it.

I ordered the pizza, assuming he liked pepperoni because who doesn’t like pepperoni?

I sat down beside him on the couch once I was finished. He was flipping through the different options on Netflix, his face was focused intently to find something.

Colt Seavers was on my couch. Well not necessarily my couch since the apartment was only being rented for me, but you get the point. We were on the couch together, tryin to find a movie to watch with pizza on the way. This realization made my cheeks feel hot once again.

“Here we go.” Colt chuckled as he clicked on the block buster film “Bad Cop, Good Dog” starring the one and only Tom Ryder.

“Get him off the screen, I might puke.” I giggled, attempting to grab the remote from him. Colt held it as far away as his much longer arms could manage, and I gave up.

“This is such a horrible film.” Colt told me, his eyes laser focused on the screen still.

“Then why are we watching it?”

Colt thought for a moment. “The way he talked to you the other day isn’t anything new. I’ve seen him talk to pretty much every one on every set we worked on together just like that. I just couldn’t always save them like I did you. It’s easy to think he’s some big, powerful guy, but in reality, he’s a pussy.”

I stayed silent for a moment. It felt nice, knowing that he still cared so deeply about the way Ryder had treated me.

“That’s nice and all, but it still doesn’t explain why exactly were watching this.”

Colt shrugged, “Oh, I just like making fun of him. We can watch something else if you want to.”

I snatched the remote from him, “Please.”

After a few more minutes of searching, I decided on the 1998 classic “The Parent Trap”.

“This movie never made any sense to me.” Colt crossed his arms as the movie started.

“Why?”

“Well, first off, what judge arranged this custody system? I mean seriously, how did both parents just up and leave with one kid?” He slurred so horribly that I had to fight a laugh as he spoke.

“It’s just a movie.” There are a few movies that I would defend with my life, this is definitely one of them.

“You can’t just use that as an excuse. Just because it’s a movie doesn’t mean it’s allowed to just defy all logic.”

“Colt,” I turned to face him, “You are working on a sci-if space cowboy movie with aliens. I think that makes the parent trap sound pretty reasonable.”

Colt chuckled, “Touché.”

My heart fluttered as I looked at Colt, lazily snuggled into my couch.

There was a knock at the door and I hopped up, walking through the kitchen and dodging Colt’s wallet, grabbing mine instead.

I paid for the pizza and brought it in, met with the sight of an extremely hungry Colt waiting impatiently at the counter.

“You didn’t use my wallet.”

I sighed, putting mine back in my purse. “I’m a big girl, I can pay for my own things.”

Colt shook his head. “You’re absolutely kicking my ass at the chivalry game.”

Grabbing a slice of pizza, I went back to the living room. Colt followed quickly behind me, and we got about one-fourth through the movie before I could tell Colt was getting extremely tired.

I got up, and went to my room, grabbing a blanket and a pillow.

“Here.” I handed them to him. Colt smiled up at me gratefully.

“Thanks.” He made himself comfortable, before leaning back and closing his eyes. The couch wasn’t very small, which was surprising since the apartment was so compact. This is why I didn’t feel bad about having him sleep on the couch. He didn’t complain either.

“Goodnight.” He mumbled, drifting off.

I smirked at him, walking to the kitchen and grabbing a bottle of water to place beside the couch. I also grabbed the bathroom’s trash can. He was going to have a terrible hangover.

“Goodnight Colt.”

I had gotten a date with Colt Seavers for the small price of humiliating myself in a southern style for the rest of filming. I’d say that’s a pretty good deal.

Or maybe it wasn’t date and I was delusional, but Colt ended up sleeping on my couch, which is pretty sweet if you ask me.

[jazeswhbhaven]

I have been save this request just for you...

Autistic MC! havd a meltdown first time in front of the kings (whether be angel raids or other reason that caused it) which causes them unable to communicate normally due to emotion overwhelming.

What will the kings do? (Honestly I think Levi will make things worse, Luci will be concerned, and Satan will like it, unfortunatly? anyways it is your decision...)

Thanks for sending this in, jennaquartz! I think this is interesting to write about as someone who is autistic and weirdly enough yesterday I had a meltdown myself....soooooo this is relevant.

Thank you for waiting as well ^^

Satan: MC couldn't stand it, the constant sounds of slashing and smell of blood consistently having to be on the run finally got to them. Everyone was a target for being screamed at or ignored as MC tries their best to ride out their intense overstimulation. Satan observes and finds it intriguing, he is not new to this but he doesn't make it better for MC at first. Once he realizes he can't really joke or enjoy it he gets mildly annoyed that MC is shutting down and shutting him out. He straight up leaves them alone but has his nobles at a distance checking up on them until the chaos is over and everything is quiet enough for MC to finally mellow out.

Mammon: While nothing bad happens that often in Tartaros, the constant interaction of Mammon's subjects and asking them so many questions eventually leads to a meltdown and MC reacts by shutting themselves away and throwing their new gifts in a pile to lay in them or hide inside the massive pile as further protection. Mammon doesn't seem to understand, trying to speak to MC and even breaks the door down which causes them to further refuse to respond to any attempts made by Mammon to soothe them. He then sits in silence and waits, after having a few items tossed at him with MC being defensive. Eventually MC does come out and Mammon again tries his best to understand what happened with MC and even uses one of his Ai bots to explain MC's vitals and mental state. At least he's trying!

Beelzebub: Oh, he's the worst when it comes to MC having meltdowns. He often mistaken MC's meltdowns for tantrums and treats them like a child, thus doing nothing but disappearing hoping that whatever is happening "stops" when he returns. And funny enough it's his constant disappearing and reappearing that doesn't help in the slighest due to MC's anxiety. It's usually up to Bael to help create a safe space for MC to hunker down and he talks to them after to let them know he won't let anything or anyone hurt them. Bael later explains the process to Beel but isn't hopeful that he'd remember. Luckily MC has seen little notes Beel leaves behind for himself but let's hope he actually remembers he wrote them down...

Leviathan: If we thought Beel was bad, Leviathan is no better. He refuses to see MC's meltdowns as valid and simply instead refuses to interact with them until he feels like it. No safe spaces, no soothing talks, no reassurance. He feels that MC is doing this on purpose for attention despite Foras trying his best to explain what MC needs. It really takes his nobles to help MC, and oddly, being put in a soft cushioned coffin (Glas' because there's a good amount of space in it) helps MC cut out the stressors and usually it lulls them to sleep. Over time, Levi does attempt to try and understand, feeling left out but it's a long time process.

Lucifer: He knows the difference between meltdowns and tantrums. His brother Michael had tantrums, Raphael, meltdowns, Gabriel a mix of both given the situation. He uses his methods that he's used before with MC, and it proves to be fruitful. Lucifer's garden dome is a great safe space, and Lucifer usually is around or next to them to soothe them after they have calmed down to talk out what was the stressor and how they are feeling. Also with his nobles around if MC ends up hurting themselves during a meltdown, it's an easy fix.

Belphegor: Well, he finds the meltdowns being too much trouble to deal with so he simply ignores it. Beleth is the one that offers help instead to MC or Harumon who an excellent emotional support cat! MC is a bit upset that Belphie didn't even try, but it's to be expected for how he is. At least they have Beleth to lean on and if not Beleth the other nobles are pretty knowledgeable in helping/offering aid during a meltdown. Harumon though is winning in this department. He's so soothing and soft and running fingers through his whorls of fur is a great stimming activity.

[perplexingluciddreams]

today is my birthday. i am 20.

i am having a chill relaxed day. same routine as always. just with a bonus of some presents, jam doughnuts, and my favourite dinner (mum makes sushi).

i had jam doughnuts for birthday last year too and i think i want it to be my birthday thing from now on. it is nice to create my own tradition to enjoy to make a positive association to birthday instead of all the past negative associations.

presents i got : Wednesday playing cards and double stuff oreos (from my previous support worker now friend Emily!). candy kittens sweets (from auntie and uncle and cousins). moomin art print book, moomin playing cards, moomin design fabric that mum can turn into anything i want, cuddly moomin toy (all from mum and dad!).

i have always been a very anxious person, since i was very wee. i have a lot of anxiety around my birthday. and had a lot of not good experiences in the past. apart from the last couple of years, i cried and/or had a meltdown and/or shutdown every birthday. i am so glad that the last few years have been better. it took a long time to get here where i can explain it all to parents and they can help to make birthday a nice and lovely day for me!

turning a new age is a hard stressful change, it feels like a big deal in my head. it is hard to adjust to thinking of myself as a new age. i only just got used to thinking of myself as 19, after a year of repeating it to myself in my head "i am 19, i am 19 years old, my age is 19".

for some reason the number of my age feels like a really big important deal to me, since i was wee. like a fact i must memorise. maybe linked to my barely-there sense of self. i don't know myself barely at all, and that makes me worried and anxious and other feelings i can't describe. i memorise facts about myself like name, age, height, favourite colour... as if i am a character. but it is just words and facts in my head, not something can translate to real. i feel very disconnected.

also have a lot of feelings about my age vs my ability level. and how disabled i am. and all the things i can't do and won't ever do. i feel this all the time i think but i easily forget things/not have awareness of things (until something reminds me by making a link or association which makes my brain go there).

i get more than usual aware of it right now because of birthday, or sometimes when my 2 years younger sister does cool amazing things, so much more grown-up and capable than i can ever be. (i am proud of her and love her. not complaining about how cool she is, just this is how it makes me think and feel alongside the proudness and happiness for her).

so, birthdays can be tough. and rough. and for most of my life that i remember, it has not been a good day. not a day i look forward to at all.

but today has been good. just chill and relaxed and mainly normal (with a few pleasant bonuses!).

still lots of thoughts and feelings about it, still there. but i can share some of it now so people understand and then they can help make it better and easier for me. i am grateful that mum and dad make my today birthday a nice day.

i am happy excited and calm - a combination/balance that is hard to create without overwhelm of emotion causing meltdown or shutdown. to have a birthday where i am not so consumed by anxiety and overwhelm that all i can do is meltdown, is a huge gift in itself.

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

which turtle do you think can handle spice? lol i made some spicyx2 ramen for dinner and both my parents asked me if this was food or nuclear war fare, they got scared of how red the ramen broth was lol

Spicy Food (Headcanon)

A/N: The lucky wheel decided on the 03 boys for this one, so here we go💚 I myself am very bad with spicy food, like it's really bad. Like, if the food does as much as touches anything spicy, I can’t eat it. But I think the guys generally would have a way better time handling it💚

--------

Leonardo:

Leo does pretty well with spicy food. He’s used to Splinter’s spicy noodle soup, and was always the angel that ate everything his father made for him, without complaining. Not that he ever complained. According to his taste buds, all of Splinter’s cooking was amazing.

When Mikey started taking over in the kitchen, Leo could not help but find the food a little… What is the right word? Uhm… bland? But don't get him wrong, Leo loves his little brother’s cooking, but he did prefer his father’s addition of spice to the food. It just that feeling in his mouth that reminded him of childhood.

Although Leo is a terrible cook, and has been ordered by his whole family to never touch the stove or the oven, Leo did know how to use the kettle for tea, and the microwave for making leftovers. But he also knew how to make instant cup noodles as a snack, often finding himself gravitating towards the extra spicy once. But even then, he often finds that they aren’t spicy enough, and adds a little more himself.

Raphael:

Raph has a love hate relationship with spicy food. On one hand he loves spicy snacks, but on the other he isn’t a big fan of warm and spicy meals. As a child it had almost caused several meltdowns at the dinner table, back when Raph didn’t have the words to clearly explain to Splinter that the noodle soup was causing him middle discomfort.

Raph could not explain it. It was as if the heat from the food made the spice so much stronger, to a point where he just couldn’t eat it. Even as a teenager and as an adult, he would let the soup cool down for a bit, before finally feeling comfortable enough to eat it.

But funnily enough, Raph LOVES spicy snacks. Chili chips or at least some kind of spicy dip with his chips, and this guy would be happy.

Raph once shared some of his chips with Casey, not thinking they were so strong. But neither Raph or April had ever seen someone run so fast to the fridge for milk, giving Raph a hint that his snacks may be spicier than he first thought.

Donatello:

No one knew for sure, but there was this theory in the Hamato family, that Donnie’s taste buds were immune to pain. Donnie did not seem to care if his food was spicy or not. The important thing for him was that it tasted good, and that the texture didn’t make him run for the hills.

Leo had long speculated that it came from years of caffeine addiction, but that did not explain how seemed to have shown the same behavior, years before he even tried coffee for the first time. Spicy food just didn’t bother Donatello.

With that being said, it’s worth mentioning a time where Donnie’s spice tolerance really came to show. One day, an absolutely sleep deprived Donnie had made himself a cup of coffee, but in his sleepy state, he had added hot sauce to his drink, instead of the milk. The horror on his brothers’ faces when he took a sip, and went as far as to say that it even tasted better than usual, before he went back to work in his lab.

Michelangelo:

Mikey had never been a picky eater, but if there was one thing he couldn’t stand, it was spicy food. It had been like that since… pretty much forever. Sure, Mikey could eat mildly spicy things, but he just had a taste for more sweet things.

Mikey’s food making was therefore obviously less spicy than Splinter’s. But just because his food was less spicy, it didn’t make it any less good. Mikey’s cooking was amazing, even if Leo seemed to miss the good old days, where his mouth was about to burn off.

But Mikey’s mild intolerance for spicy food, gave Raph a great opportunity for a prank. One day while Mikey wasn’t looking, Raph added one of his spicy chips to Mikey’s already opened bag of salty chips. The scream that followed when Mikey then unexpectedly bit into that one chip, was so loud that people on the street above looked around in confusion. It was no surprise that all of Donnie’s milk suddenly disappeared after that, having been drunk by a hysteric Mikey that desperately tried to kill the fire in his mouth.

[stalky-arsen]

well, that kinda aged poorly lol

i think i need to get it out of my system.

Firstly, I am not a professionnal psy. So everything I'm going to say about Yamato should be consider only as interpretation or headcannons.

Secondly, this man has C-PTSD for suuuuure. If he wasn't abducted, abused and even forced to kill for 15 years early in his life, he would have ended up being a complete different person.

Now let's get started.

Yamato. My man. You have high sociopathy. I tested it XD

But you're going to ask me "how could you say I'm a sociopath when you don't even know what it really is." I have wikipedia. There is probably better sources but I can get a general idea on what this is.

So, wikipedia says : "Antisocial personality disorder (ASPD) is a personality disorder defined by a chronic pattern of behavior that disregards the rights and well-being of others. People with ASPD often exhibit behavior that conflicts with social norms, leading to issues with interpersonal relationships, employment, and legal matters." Basically you lack empathy and morality and it could get you some troubles in your relationships.

I also tested your sociopathy level by roleplaying you on several quiz websites, and boy this is very high probabilities~ (i was bored okay.)

"But these are quizzes, it's not serious." You want to play that way ? Fine. I'm gonna list all the "symptoms".

Impulsivity

Honestly, this is very hard to see at first. You seem very cooled down. People wouldn't call you impulsive at first glance. But digging deeper, I was able to ask myself a question.

Your plan, during Sea of Sorrow, it was full of flaws. It relies only on reliabilities.

The first one being Union's presence. Why would you invite them on board ? What was the reason ? To threaten Konkuzan ? Don't you think Konkuzan would have suspected something ? You were lucky you ended up with Tang Xuan 'cause they came with detectives, but imagine if it was someone else like idk, Li Ling, Lewis, Lucas, David, Mona, Brynn, Q... No offense to any of them, but they wouldn't think like Tang Xuan, some wouldn't even bring a detective, some would just set the boat on fire recklessly.

(out of subject but Drew would be hyper effecient lol he would even save Yuuhime from Yamato lol)

Oh also, what would've happen if any of the guests you invited didn't come ? Like they would have been too scared and would flee the country instead ? Just a possibility. You surely had make sure they would definitely agreed to come.

Okay but what if Masato didn't attempted to murder Konkuzan ? What would you have done ? Again, you really had to make sure he wanted to kill him.

okay okay, maybe that wasn't enough, then what about the fact you just thought the music box would tired itself ? How come you were so sure it would tire itself from overuse ??? It was a wild guess ! Imagine if it weren't the case what would you have done then ?

Imagine you would have fallen completely under the box's control ? What would you have done ?

So, the important question is, What if something went wrong, what would you have done ? How would you reacted ?

This is a wild guess yeah but he would've breakdown on the moment. This man was so sure his plan would have worked the way it would, not making sure of every possibilities. He didn't even plan a backup plan. What makes me so sure of that ?

Tang Yun's presence.

That monkey boy shouldn't have been on board in first place. Sure the Shadow Decree had some tension with the Syndicate, but like Union, it would have been anyone else, it would have gone differently and unlike Union, they didn't have the obligation to come.

Your plan worked because you got lucky, but if it went any other directions, you would have a meltdown.

Reckless disregard for one's own safety or that of others.

Why the fuck would you eat Fugu on a daily basis ??? "Because it makes me feel stronger" That's certainly a cope out then (okay let's not count that)

And honestly, you wouldn't care for anyone's safety, we could argue about your sister's but domestic violence isn't something safe yk ?

Irresponsible behavior

Okay sure, you can argue on the fact that taking care of a criminal and an assassination guild is somewhat impressive, I don't what would have happen if Syndicate's assassins just went rogue. But you did endangered many bystanders during on the White Beluga, in New Milo, and also in the desert full of miramons leaving MC and others to their mercy.

Irritability

eeeeeeeh

well, the only thing I can think of is you don't give the time to explain your motivation to anyone else. Do you have the patience for that anyway ?

Inability to conform to social norms

You may be a lawyer but you still choose to be an assassin, a thief, a liar etc.

Lack of remorse

Yuuhime.

Just why ?

Marked tendency to blame others, or to rationalize plausible excuses

You sure are giving excuses to Tang Xuan at the end of Desolated Lands event.

so, 6 out of 7, you have a high sociopathy level based on wikipedia, and that's not even counting you would put your person above all else, even your own sister.

Yamato is a sociopath given it was due to his environment, not a psychopath, that he probably has C-PTSD and things that goes along. I'm sure in other circumstances, he would be a nice caring brother called Shouta. But he's Yamato.

I love to explore all facette of his character ♡

[mac-n-cheese-flavored-arson]

There are a lot of reasons that aba therapy is abusive and ineffective but one of the big ones is that instead of redirecting actually harmful dangerous behaviours while filling the need that they're filling, autistic people are just abused until we can mask well enough and the behaviours stop

I have two examples here, tw for autistic self injury

I used to bite myself, I did it every single day and there were years where I had a permanent bite mark on my arm, I would do it so hard and so often that it caused open wounds and then I would pick the scabs and keep biting, there were multiple times as a kid I got infections from this but I needed it to regulate my sensory issues and anxiety. I also chewed on metal or plastic constantly, sometimes choking on it, destroying my teeth, and cutting up my mouth from the sharp ends. In highschool an autistic friend introduced me to chewy necklaces and bought me one from stimtastic and being able to redirect my biting towards things meant to bite ended me biting myself or chewing on dangerous things almost immediately

My younger brother also used to hit his head against the wall and there was once that he gave himself a concussion from doing it too hard for too long, and bruises and knots were extremely common. My parents assumed it was tantrums and punished him until he stopped and he started having daily meltdowns instead because he was severely unregulated. My grandma started filling up a two liter soda bottle with water and giving that to him every time he was hitting his head against the wall until he started asking for the two liter instead! No more injuries, no more pain, and no more daily meltdowns! Eventually he was able to redirect this to banging his head against his bed which was even safer while filling the same sensory need

We needed to be taught not to do our original stims, repeated open wounds and infections and repeated head injuries was genuinely something that couldn't continue forever, and replacing those stims with things that were physically safe was the best possible outcome for that situation! But in aba therapy, both of the safer stims we started doing would still be punished and we'd still be abused for them just because they're weird or not socially acceptable.

Aba therapy is meant to make autistics appear nuerotypical but it's not actually meant to help us regulate sensory issues or cope with things that are distressing, sometimes redirecting autistic behaviours is absolutely necessary but punishing a behaviour that's meeting a need without allowing an alternative doesn't work

[cockroachi83]

how come you're not proship but you do understand the concept of consuming and making questionable/taboo things without liking those things in real life?

That's literally proship/profic stuff

ProSHIP applies to SHIPPING, which, in my opinion, that has formed based on what I have seen and experienced, refers to pairing two characters romantically (or sexually) and is something you actively cheer and root for in any way. I do not consider canonical pairings that an author includes in their work as a ship, which is a fandom thing, even though it stands for relationSHIP.

I do think including a problematic relationship within your work is normal, but how you handle it is another thing. As I said, I believe having this as a plot point, a part of a character's development, situation, or whatever else, is fine if introduced as troubling, and not something encouraged or romanticised. Therefore, this would exclude me from the proship definition, as I don't think any pairing is fine.

As for profiction, I would say this is a bell that rings closer to me, but one I still don't entirely agree with, because as far as I'm aware, it also implies that you accept the existence of pure pornography with no lesson to teach or story to tell, other than introducing a very concerning fetish, that I think should be kept within your bedroom walls, and not shared in public spaces, in scenarios that - even though include FICTIONAL victims - still illustrate an abusive situation that takes place in different forms in the real world. I do not agree with this part, so I would rather not call myself profic. If I'm wrong about this definition, correct me, but I'd rather not call myself something I'm not sure I identify with.

I think fiction has a right to be and that you don't necessarily condone the cases you portray in your work in real life, but the way you go about it can say a lot about you. Fiction and reality are things that entangle within each other, that coexist, and that affect one another. I don't think that spreading content, which, despite what the author might actually think, shows the things included as normal, or "bad" only in a way that is supposed to be arousing, in spaces easily accessible by anyone is a good thing. It can be very harmful, and even as a coping mechanism, isn't an entirely healthy one. Instead of moving forward, you are constantly surrounding yourself with your trauma; that, however, is not mine to judge. For as long as you don't expose other people to your suffering and "share it" with them, risking for them to spiral downwards, you should be free to handle your troubles the way it helps you. Your well-being should not cost the state of others. This would be going off topic, though.

This is not directed towards you, since you politely asked about something that seemed to bother you, but I have been subjected to LOTS of harassment from people in the proship spaces, which seems oddly out of character, considering those people stand for freedom of speech, no harassment, and all that stuff. I have had grown adults over 30 promise to cause me meltdowns on purpose just because they didn't agree with my DNI. I have a long history with that space, and I have not been treated kindly by it. I am no knight in shining armour and I am not actively working towards taking all of this kind of fiction down or getting the creators off the internet. I feel uncomfortable and I don't agree with their ideas, so I kindly ask for them not to interact with me. I'm aware they can still consume my content and I am unable to stop them from it, but they have the choice NOT to let me know about it. Don't comment, don't follow me, don't like my stuff, that is all I ask. I think that doing me this favour, which would cost my comfort if not done for me, is really not that hard to do.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not wanting my partner to spend the holidays with his family?

So trigger warning for death/grief. I'm not sure if this is extremely straightforward in who is in the wrong here, it at least doesn't feel obvious to me.

My (24NB) mother (55F) passed away last week. She had struggled previously with cancer and liver failure but was seemingly doing well until a blood infection caused her to be hospitalized. She was expected to recover, but passed rather suddenly after a week in hospital.

She and I were incredibly close. We talked on the phone most days. The passing has been very difficult for me. Especially with it being so close to Christmas, I'm dreading the holidays. My mom was always the one who made Christmas special for my family.

Now, my partner (23M) loves Christmas and comes from a big family that is very close-knit. We've been together for a little over a year, and currently live together. Neither of us drive, but most of his family live 45 minutes from us. This makes visiting with them difficult as we're dependent on who can drive us and that usually means we have to stay much longer than we would with my family. As a result, he spent Thanksgiving with my family (Canadian Thanksgiving happening prior to my mom passing). This caused a total meltdown from his family, who saw this as me asking him to disrespect them. He ended up having to lie about being sick and missing both Thanksgivings.

Now that Christmas is approaching, I had already asked that we spend Christmas morning with my family if his family planned on being out of town just for ease. He agreed that would be easier, and the following year we could go with his family. This of course changed when my mom passed. Instead, my family planned on having a quiet Christmas together. I expected that he would still attend, especially since I'm expecting it to be hard on me.

His cousin (30sF) phoned the other day. They first talked about the hospital my mom passed in and how they had lost some of my moms belongings (the cousin works at the hospital and wanted to help us). I listened in to provide additional info for him to relay. At the end of that conversation, she brought up Christmas and said the plan was for herself and a few others to spend the entirety of Christmas Eve out of town with his family, and then leave Christmas morning following presents. He didn't argue, just gave a vague response along the lines of 'we'll see' which led to his cousin telling him it would be 'very unfair' of me to prevent him from spending Christmas with his family because I see him all the time and "it's only 24 hours". At the end, she added a quick "Your mom would really appreciate it!" Which hurt my feelings to hear, but I knew it wasn't intended that way.

The whole talk made me really upset, and I had to excuse myself to cry. After talking it through with a close friend, they suggested I bring it up to my partner just so he could understand that its difficult for me to think about Christmas for the time being. I did exactly that, and my partner got very upset with me. He told me that his cousin didn't intend it that way. He also told me that it was unfair that I already expected him to spend Christmas with my family, and that I was 'forcing' him to be a part of my family and taking him from his own.

It was never my intention to make him feel as though he couldn't spend time with his family, and I don't think I've ever said anything like that but I don't know how my words and actions have come across. I want him around for support during this first year without my mom, but I don't want him to feel that I'm forcing him into missing his own holidays. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[thecapricunt1616]

The Bear & His Honey - Chapter 14

♡ Chapter Inspo: The Archer - Lover (TS) ; And I cut off my nose, just to spite my face. Then I hate my reflection, for years and years.

♡ Summary: Winnie has a bit of a meltdown after therapy, this time Carmy is the one to help her calm down.

♡ W/C: 5,444

♡ Posted Date: 03/24/24

♡ A/N: Heyyy all! I am so happy you're enjoying this story! Thank you so much for the love and likes and reblogs!!! This is a 2 part chapter, C14&C15 are kinda twins, it was gonna be one chapter but I think you guys like the shorter ones so each is gonna be 5/6k instead of one thick 12k chapter! I should be posting C15 soon, still polishing it up :) Enjoy!

♡ Warnings for BTC: Anxiety, Panic attacks, Angst, Hurt to comfort kinda thing, Mentions of Domestic Abuse (physical, verbal,etc)

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡

➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ♡

𝒞𝒶𝓇𝓂'𝓈 𝒫.𝒪.𝒱.🧸

I woke up, warm and comfortable. There was a weight between my legs, my right thigh actually felt numb under it. I yawned big, stretching comfortably, my knuckles brushing the plush of Winnie’s headboard. 

So I did come back here this morning.  

I reach out to my left, in search of Winnie, feeling a light crinkle under my grasp. I opened my eyes, pinching the flimsy paper between my fingers and unfolding it to read.  

‘Went to therapy. Be back by 4:30, please lock the door if you leave…(didn’t wanna wake you, you’re so sweet + handsome when you’re sleeping ♡ ) xoxo - Honey :)’ 

I smiled lightly, my gaze drifting down. I nudged the cat lightly whom had made a comfy bed on my thigh causing it to fall asleep. “Good afternoon- lazybones” I muttered, sitting up lightly and she mews, stretching out comfortably over my legs, begging for attention.  

I snort a laugh. “Y’know? Y’re a lot like y’mother- needy for pets ‘n love” I teased, rubbing her fluffy chest gently. She purred wildly, sitting up and sniffing my fingers before standing up, stretching out, showing off her daggers and flicking her feather duster of a tail and sassily making a show of walking up onto my hip, since I was sat on my side, carefully balancing herself on my ribs. 

She made her way up silently, and started licking the inside of my ear. “Aughh!! Bad! Shoo! Bad fuckin’ kitty! No fuckin’ way, cat!!! ew! Absolutely not nasty!” I swat next to my ear and felt her claws digging in to my side to balance herself, groaning- I shove her off my ribs and she makes a sharp “mrooww!!!” in protest. “Well, fuck off, cat!” I nudge her off the bed. If there was one thing I would not tolerate, Is something licking the inside of my fucking ear. 

I huffed, grabbing my phone and seeing the time was- 4:00?! I raised my eyebrows in surprise,

Great. Now my sleeping schedules all fucked up. Just wonderful. 

I clicked on a notification from Sugar, huffing a laugh at the drastic changes in tone from one text to another

Hey. Meant what I said, she’s good for youuu!!! Kiss and make up!

Check this lady out she’s right 20s are the worst ever bear it’s normal to feel how u do with all the bs 

Don’t have kids. Just had to go down to the school to bring bug home, she threw up. Twice. 

I chuckle, sending her a reply 

Wasn’t planning on it. Twice?? Don’t bring whatever shit she got to the restaurant. Hope she’s ok 

I got up, clicking the link wondering what she was on about, listening to the podcast of some woman go on about how ‘being in your 20’s was the worst period in your life’ I snort, nodding a bit to myself at the sentiment. 

As far as I’d seen, the last 7 years of my life had been the absolute worst- a shit show, a fuckin’ dumpster fire. So, the lady was onto something as far as that went. 

‘Now- I get it, listen- everyone in your life, has been telling you ‘relax, the world is at your fingertips! You just wanna take those fingertips, curl them into a fist- and punch them into a fuckin face!! Cause how- don’t people realize how scary that is?!’ 

I chuckled, starting the shower and grabbing a towel from the linen closet, leaving it on the counter for when I got out. Wasn’t that the truth. I am sick and tired of people telling me ‘just relax Carmen! You’re only 27, look how much you’ve already accomplished?! You’re gonna be fine, everything will be fine, you’re doing fine!’ 

But I didn’t feel fine. Not in the slightest. I felt fuckin’ lost. Ahead of the curve, but severely behind. Worlds ahead of people my age- but yet, completely socially inept. It was fuckin’ exhausting. 

She continued as I slipped off my sweatpants and boxers, pulling back the sparkly white shower curtain stepping under the water. ‘And let me tell you- people who say ‘oh, your 20s are the best time in your life, blah blah fuckin’ blah, no! That is complete, and utter bullshit! It might actually be the hardest decade in your life. There! I said it. So if you just let out a sigh of relief- i just want to say good. Good! It is normal and I just want to read this, this is a submission from a 28 year old listener her name is Candace” 

She went on about how some girl, had graduated from college- and realized that after she graduated, much like after I’d left culinary school, everything just went to utter shit. She lost all her friends, hated her new job, realized she may not like being in the field she was in, realized she had no romantic prospects after breaking up with her long term boyfriend - was constantly fighting with family, essentially everything she’d thought could never go wrong, went wrong, and she’d felt utterly lost. Something I could very much relate to. 

She continued on, ‘Now- Candace let me just say. Yes! And all the people listening and nodding along? I want you to understand, this is the average experience for someone in their 20’s. And let me just pause and say this this is why this decade is so fucking hard’ she goes on as I grabbed Winnie’s shampoo and started washing my hair, listening intently. 

‘Listen, it is the first time in your life- your whole life! That someone isn’t telling you what to do. Just stop and think, there is no playbook! Nothing! All you’ve known, from 0-20- is someone else’s playbook. Whether it be mom, dad, sibling, grandparents- doesn’t matter! For the first 20 years, every single detail had been planned for you. And it was planned for all your peers and friends too. That’s a huge piece- remember, from 0-20 you were all running at the same pace! You had vacations at the same time for Christ sake! ‘ she explained and I hum a bit in agreement to myself. 

I’d never really thought about it that way, it was true. I’d spent my entire life comparing myself. And now it has just gotten even worse since I’d left culinary school. It was my one crutch- but now? I felt like a fuckin loser.

 Everyone my age was married, or having kids, or graduating college. I had multiple offers to go to Technical College after I’d graduated culinary school, but I hadn’t because I was obsessed with chasing awards.It didn’t matter to me that I graduated top of my class-  I had to prove to my mom, to Mikey- that I was serious, that I had really been made in the industry. And the way to do that, was being awarded- not getting a stupid degree.  

 I grabbed the pink wash cloth I’d taken in with me, looking over one of her many different shelves of various soaps and being slightly overwhelmed at all the options, I just settled on the one at my eye level. Most of them were full, which told me she either didn’t like them, or it was too much of a hassle for her to try and reach them so high up.  My choices in scent were Butterfly, whatever the fuck that smells like, Beautiful Day, sounds flowery- so not f’me. And simply relax. I picked up the bottle, Reading the back ‘smells like a dreamy bedside bouquet of lavender and vanilla’ well, I guess that’s what I was gonna smell like today.

By the time I’d gotten out of the shower I heard the front door close and Persephone loudly meowing. “Is that my wittle baby girl? Is Carmy still here? Mmm? Keepin’ y’company miss baby?” Winnie coos. I smiled a bit to myself, slipping on a clean pair of boxers I’d grabbed from my backpack. 

I paused what I’d been listening to, opening the bathroom door. The steam floods into the bedroom - fuck. I didn’t realize the water had been so hot. I grabbed the towel, messily rubbing it over my hair to get rid of the annoying dripping down my back. 

 “Babe?” I called out to let her know I was still here. 

The bedroom door nudged open quickly and Persephone rushed in, circling my legs and mewing loudly. 

“Oh! You didn’t leave? Hey!” The bedroom door nudges open further, and when my eyes met hers my heart cracked slightly. Her hazel eyes were bloodshot, glazed over like she’d been crying. Her nose has been rubbed raw assumingly by tissues. 

“Are- is everything…are y’alright baby?” I asked gently. She nodded quickly, a small, sad smile curling on her lips. 

“Sorry- I must look like shit…” she started and I shook my head, stepping forward to her and pulling her into a hug. She melted into me, resting her head on my chest and took a shuddering breath.

“Never angel, how was your appointment?” I ask quietly, rubbing soothing strokes over her back. 

“Good- I guess..I mean…I guess it’s good when it hurts? I dunno. But yeah we talked um…about you? Well..about me. And about everything.” She sniffled. 

I rest my chin on her head, biting my cheek nervously since my lip was so sore after I’d bitten the hell out of it last night. “Yea? D’you wanna…talk about it? Er?…we don’t have to- but I’m here baby if y’want to” I questioned nervously, gently rubbing my fingers up the seams of her overalls. 

“Yea-if..if you’re ok with it-well I just..” her voice cracked and she clears her throat. “I’m sorry if I- I-if I cry everything is just really raw and It’s not to make you feel bad” she said and I kissed the top of her head gently. 

“You never have to apologize for crying baby. I know you aren’t trying to make me feel bad, I mean…I kinda wish I could let stuff out sometimes- but I can’t unless…” I trailed off sighing a bit, rubbing up her back and pulling her more into me. 

 ”I-I’m- I’m just so..so sorry, Carmy..” she whispered and I brushed her hair back from her shoulder, gently smoothing it out over her back. 

“F’what? F’what..baby?” I gently play with the ends of her hair, weaving the silky strands between my fingers. 

“I-if I ever made you feel like…difficult? y’re not hard to be with..I’m- I’m so fucking sorry…I’m so sorry f’r being so selfish Carmy, I want you I-“ she huffed a silent, shaking sob into my shoulder.

“Baby what? No…no angel it’s ok” I wrap my arms around her, rocking her gently. “No. No you aren’t selfish baby.” I said “i know you want me, i know. Y’didnt do that…I did that, I make myself feel like that” I whisper into her hair, I usually wouldn’t be so honest with my feelings, but my heart was aching. I had to say anything I could to get her to stop feeling so sad.  

I kissed the top of her head gently, she was suddenly feeling much too warm. “C’mon- let’s get outta this, y’re burning up, baby. Wha’s wrong, mm? Y’re not selfish, Win, why do you feel that way?” I led her to the bed, gently urging her to sit.

She looked up at me, her large green eyes tear-filled and red. “I-I-y’re perfect, Carmen. I-I can’t…I couldn’t…I wouldn’t want to d’anything…like to change you-you” she sniffled and I cupped her cheeks, sitting next to her. “I-I-I don’t” she shakes her head “don’t change f’me, because of me” she hugs me tightly. 

I felt tears welling up behind my eyes. All Claire wanted was for me to change. I took a deep, shaky breath at the realization, holding her tighter. “Thank you” I whispered when I managed to swallow the lump forming in my throat. 

She took a shuddering breath and pulled away, quickly unclipping the buttons on her overalls, “too hot” she mumbled, pushing them down to her hips and shimmying them off quickly before clawing off her long-sleeved shirt, throwing it to the floor.

Fuck..She's having a panic attack.

I quickly got up and grabbed her black NASCAR t-shirt she’d thrown in the hamper that she’d worn to bed so many times before, “Here, ye’? This is comfortable right baby?” I asked and she shook her head fervently, walking to the bathroom quickly and shoving open the door without mind, the wood slamming into the wall.

“Baby- let me” she cuts me off

“Where is it, where did you put your shirt?” she asked, rushing over to the hamper when she didn’t find it in the bathroom and mindlessly rifling through it.

“Wha- which one baby- y’re makin’ a mess…” I walked over, running my hand through my hair as she chucked shirts and underwear and jeans every which way.

“The white one carmy? Which other shirt do you wear?” she choked out.

“Oh! Oh- here, c’mere” i told her, walking over to my side of the bed and pulling back the covers, digging out my white t-shirt from the mess of sheets. “This? Right? Ye’ baby?” she nods and takes it from me, sliding it over her head and sinking into her side of the bed, grabbing her blanket and wrapping it over her head and neck, rubbing the silk tag against her lips as she tries to relax her rapid breathing. 

Seph comes up as if on queue, sitting in her lap and laying down, purring loudly as she kneads the blanket over Winnie’s legs. She strokes her tail and closes her eyes, leaning her head against the headboard.

“Sorry…i’m-i-i’m sorry” she breathes out after a few minutes of stroking her tail and trying to calm herself down. I carefully sat down next to her and tuck the blanket back a bit so I could better see her face.

“Why?” I asked gently, looking over at her. She continued stroking Persephones tail, sighing to herself. 

“F’r…For like- I’m sorry for bombarding you like this” she releases a shaky sigh, wiping her eyes and shaking her head. “It’s a lot every time” she said and I nod, taking her free hand and gently pressing it to my lips. 

“I get it, baby. Trust me. That’s like- nothin’ I get so worked up. Y’re really tame” I said and she smiled a bit, lacing our fingers together. 

“Oh no I had a full meltdown at the grocery store too on the way home, this is just the aftermath…they were out of cherry juice and I- I’ve been thinkin about it all week.” She shook her head, looking at her lap and covering her face with her blanket. “And I- I used the money on cranberry instead, and I tried it…and it’s not the same” she said her voice cracking again and she sniffled. 

“Oh sweet baby” I wrapped my arms around her, kissing her blanket covered head. “I’ll make you cherry juice, d’worry” I said soothingly, rubbing her side gently. 

“It’s stupid Carmy. No. Don’t it’s all stupid. Plus I made you upset. I don't deserve my juice anyway” she said sadly, slightly nudging my arms away. 

I pouted a bit at her words “hey, no- don’t say that, Win. You deserve all the cherry juice. That’s all you want, mm? Some cherry juice?” I held her tighter, pulling her into my chest. 

She rested her cheek against my skin for a moment, before nuzzling her cold, cry-slicked nose into my neck and inhaling deeply, causing me to laugh a bit.

 “Mmhmm. I do. But- You took a shower and used my soap, smells good.” She said and I squeezed her waist gently. 

“I did. Can you tell which of your 50 million soaps I chose?” I mused and she giggled a bit, my heart lightening immediately at the sound. 

“Mmm” she hums, taking another big sniff this time in the middle of my throat, but not without nibbling my collarbone gently before pulling away. “Floral. But herby. The lavender one?” She questions. 

“Wow- you have quite the nose. Even when it’s all boogery cause you’re sad about cherry juice” I teased and she looks up at me, pecking my lips. 

“Mmhmm. I have the best nose. So don’t go smooching any girls cause I know your scent mister.” She mused and I hum, a smirk dancing on my lips. 

“You do now? Go on then. What do I smell like?” I asked, curious as to what she’d say. 

“Well, cigarettes- duh. Hmm..like- musky I dunno like in a really good way though. And then a tiny bit of Y’re laundry detergent annddd” she nuzzled her nose right below my jaw and sniffed, humming in a satisfied way that made me chuckle.

“Mmm like…vanilla. But boy vanilla? Does that make sense?” She bites the sensitive skin gently and I bit back a moan. 

“Mmhmm didn’t ask about taste baby” my hand travels around to her stomach rubbing up gently. 

“What do I smell like? You’re the one with the advanced palate chef” she kissed the same spot she’d just assaulted to soothe the sting before running her tongue over it gently. 

“What part?” I let my eyes flutter shut and she giggled into my skin. 

“Ohhh naughty, dirty chef” she nudged Persephone away to which she meows in objection as Winnie took her spot straddling my lap. “Tell me both.” She said softly in my ear, playing with my hair gently. 

“Hmm…bready but in the best way. But it tastes kinda sweet. Like…” I huff a laugh through my nose at the comparison. “Have you ever had…Japanese tea bread?” I questioned and she giggled into my hair. 

“No. What is it?” I gently squeeze her ass with my palms as I explained. 

“It’s- well bread. But it’s kinda salty sweet, the first time I went down on you it’s what I thought of. It’s really good” I said looking up at her. She shakes her head and rests her forehead on mine. 

“Y’know. I think you’re the cutest ever” she said softly, kissing the bridge of my nose before resting her forehead on mine again. 

“Why, cause I think your pussy smells kinda like shokupan?” I snort a laugh and she giggled, her eyes scrunching adorably. 

“No. Well- yes in a way, I think it’s fuckin adorable that instead of being like- all turned on and thinking about what we were doing, you were sitting there being like ‘i know I’ve had this somewhere’ “ she said and I laughed a bit, my hands travelling up to rest on her hips. 

“No. In the moment I was like- I actually was trying not to bust in your face, like- as soon as you went down on me, because Y’re so hot. But- later. I think it was as we were falling asleep. I was thinkin’bout it. And it dawned on me” I said rubbing the backs of her thighs and gently squeezing. 

“My therapist says we’re good for eachother” she said suddenly and it felt like my heart leapt into my throat and I nearly choked on it. 

“Oh?” I ask and clear my throat. “Like- well…yea..right? D-did you think we were bad for eachother?” I questioned, my cheeks suddenly feeling hot. 

“No! No the opposite. I was hoping she was gonna agree we’re good f’r eachother and she…she did. She said that I just- I need to…like…be more open and stuff with how I feel so…yeah that’s why I allowed myself to tell you everything and..yeah..” she said softly, resting her head on my shoulder and wrapping her arms around my neck. 

I felt myself instantly relax at the admission. The affirmation doing wonders for my anxiety. 

“Thank you f’r tellin me, honey” I said softly, kissing her cheek. “I think we’re good together, too” I rubbed her back gently. “Cmon, let me go get the cherrys baby, y’want your juice” I told her. 

“Y’don’t have to make it for me, Carm. It’s..it’s probably gonna be alotta work and..it’s not worth it for stupid juice.” She muttered and I kiss her cheek. 

“Will it make you happy baby?” I asked, rubbing her side gently. 

“ ‘fcourse I love anything you make Carmy but I’m not gonna make you work on your day off” she said and I gently pull her chin up so she looks at me. 

“It’s not work when I’m cooking for you honey, it’s fun. I love cooking. It’s why it’s my job, even though it’s shit. It’s fun when I can do it in a more…peaceful environment I guess” I smiled a bit and she took my hand, kissing it. 

“I’m making you dinner then and you get a massage after” she said, gently kissing over each letter on my knuckles. 

“That sounds like a wonderful deal baby.” I watched her, my cheeks heating at the sweetness of the gesture. 

“Have you ever had- well. That’s a stupid question. You’ve probably tasted everything” she said, gently playing with my fingers. “I was gonna say have you ever had tomate farcies but now I feel..kinda silly cause- why wouldn’t you have had, it you went to culinary school in Paris” she smiled a bit. 

“You speak French?” I questioned and her brows furrowed a bit. 

“I didn’t- I didn’t tell you? Our grandma was from Quebec…yeah I grew up on French. You- you don’t? How did you live over there?” She questioned and I shrug a bit. 

“Uhh…didn’t. Really- I mean…I was either goin’ T’school or working. I went out like 2 times total. I know all the cooking terms those are all I needed…then I moved to Denmark and uh…yeah they speak a lot more English so it didn't make a difference” I shrugged. “I’ve always wanted to learn though, so you can teach me baby” I kissed the corner of her mouth gently. 

“Of course! Well..I’m not the best teacher, I only speak it with my gram on the phone when I call her now- but she raised us a lot of the time, we stayed with her over the summers cause my mom worked so much. I’ll show you what I know, We’ll start when you get back from the store” she pecks my lips before rolling off my lap and I got up, stretching my back that felt worlds better after a good 10 hours rest in her comfortable bed. 

“Sounds perfect. What kinda cherries do you like babe?” I asked grabbing my grey hoodie from end of the bed and slipping it on. 

“Kind of Cherries? I dunno…there’s different kinds?” She giggled and I shook my head with a grin. 

“Yes, there are, honey. How about I surprise you, yeah?” I wrap my arms around her waist, kissing her forehead. 

“Mmhmm” she said and kissed my nose. “Be safe please, there were alotta cops out when I was on the way back” she said and I gently tuck her hair behind her ear.  “Then lock the door behind me please” I told her and squeezed her hips gently.

I got to the grocery store fairly quickly, walking fast due to the rain that was only getting heavier as I walked. By the time I’d gotten to the store, my hoodie was already half soaked. 

I tugged on my hood, pulling it higher as I made my way to the produce aisle, grabbing 3 bags of sweetheart cherries before making my way to the baking isle for some sugar. 

While rounding the corner, since my head was down momentarily I bumped into someone, causing them to drop the boxes of cake mix they were holding “oh! Shit my bad!” I looked up at them, my heart sinking. 

I suddenly felt hot, my sweater felt itchy, my cheeks were flushed. It felt like I couldn’t breathe. I looked her up and down, my mouth dropping in to a gaping ‘o’. I felt bile rising in my throat, my stomach churning with anxiety. 

No. No. Not her. Not now. 

“Bear?” The name coming off of her tongue nearly made me gag. I shook my head quickly, squeezing my eyes shut and pulling my hood up further. 

“P-please. No. I-I’m. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Claire- I” I looked at her, then the boxes of cake mix, then her again. 

“I-uh- have T-T-t’go. Um-I-please don’t um-“ I took a shuttering breath. 

Unless I slice deep, she will keep trying with me. 

“Don’t- I- we can never be together. I-I-im sorry, Claire. I’m sorry” I turned around quickly heading to the registers. 

“Prick” she muttered as I briskly walked away. The word stung, but I surely deserved it. 

I shook my head, trying to brush off the brief unforeseen confrontation, as I rushed I clumsily almost knocked over a display of bouquets with roses and sunflowers, grabbing one before it fell off the shelf quickly, and instead of putting it back, I paused for a moment, looking at it as I thought, before I took them for Winnie and continued my walk to the registers. 

I dropped the cherries and the flowers onto the belt and digging my debit card out of my pocket. 

I need to get back to Honey. Wait, Honey. She’s gonna have honey, her tea- she’s always drinking tea. I didn’t even need fuckin’ sugar anyway.

“Do you have a rewards card?” The teen at the register asks glumly. 

“No, thanks.” I mumbled, putting my card in the reader as soon as he scanned the bags and flowers. 

“Do you want a bag?” He asked, and I looked at him annoyed. 

“Do I-? yes. Yes I want it bagged” 

Like, cmon, kid. lets keep this conversation goin, hm? why doesn’t Claire just get in line behind me right fuckin now? 

I thought bitterly to myself as he bagged the 3 bags of cherries and the flowers handed them to me. 

“Want your receipt?” He asked, but I was already headed up to the flower counter with the bag and the flowers. 

‘If you get a girl flowers, y’always get em wrapped, bear. Er’ y’re just givin’ em work. Simple, but impressive’

Was what Mikey had told me once upon a time. I’d never gotten a girl flowers before now, but they seemed to literally jump at me, and it couldn’t hurt after the day Winnie’s had.

I set the flowers on the counter, “can I have these uh- wrapped?” I asked the older woman tending the flower section. 

She nodded, smiling warmly. “Of course. Beautiful choice, if you’d like- we have cards you can write a message on” she motioned to the little table next to the flower stand. 

I looked over them, reading the different choices. I love you, happy birthday, I’m sorry, Just Because I love you - no. Too much.

I shook my head “no. Just uh- just wrapped, thanks.” I mumble, shoving my hand that wasn’t holding the bag in my pocket. 

“Who are these for, if you don’t mind?” She asked as she removed the cellophane, snipping the ends of the flowers at an angle and arranging them. 

“My- uh. This- she’s...we’re…seeing eachother.” I said awkwardly, biting the inside of my cheek. 

“Ahhh ok. So it’s new love then” she said, placing the flowers atop brown paper. 

My cheeks heat and I swallow thickly. She wasn’t wrong but it wasn’t right to call it love..yet. 

“I-I guess…maybe.” I said and she tied them up with twine around the paper, covering them in a clear plastic bag before sliding them in a brown paper one. 

“Stay dry out there” she told me and I nodded, heading towards the doors. 

“Thanks” I said simply, feeling too anxious to say anything else. 

If it hadn’t been pouring, I’d have taken my cigarettes out as soon as I got outside, but unfortunately for me- my hoodie was beginning to get soaked through, and I was starting to shiver because of the wind that was quickly picking up. 

The last fuckin’ thing I need right now is to be sick.

𝒲𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝒫.𝒪.𝒱. 🍯

I turned back to the tv, paying attention to a random Criminal Minds episode i’d put on in the living room while I cooked, watching as I cored the 8 tomatoes whilst waiting for the rice to finish boiling. 

This would be the only recipe I could bring to the table in our relationship, other than a few very simple dishes from my childhood my Gram had taught me how to cook plus my easy breakfasts, I was fairly lost in the kitchen. 

But I’d felt proud that at least one night he could let someone make something for him. I scooped the cores into the trash, saving the little lids. 

I was feeling much better now that I’d gotten paid and Sephys (as well as my own) food supplies weren’t dwindling. The cost of therapy ate up most of my checks, then rent, then utilities. So at the end of every month I was left pretty dry. I did whatever I could to not call Gram and ask her to spare me some money, it had happened a few times though, each time I did I was near an eviction notice or my lights getting shut off.

Even though she was insistent whenever I called that if I was struggling she’d be more then happy to send money and help out, I knew she kept tabs with mom, and whatever I said could make its way back to her. And the last thing I needed was her thinking I was failing out here, especially her. I’d never hear the end of it. 

I carefully chopped the onion the way my Gram taught me, chopping vegetables was much easier then meat, to me anyway. So my attempt came out much better then the chicken I’d murdered at lunch with Carmy the other day. 

Sephy jumps up on the counter and I gasp “seph! No! Naughty! Carm would have a heart attack” I quickly pick her up, going and putting her down on her cat tree. “You sleep here. You know that missy” 

I sighed softly to myself, padding over to the sink and washing my hands, drying them off quickly on Carmys shirt before going back to the onions. 

By the time I’d gotten the tomatoes stuffed and in the oven, as well as done a little cleaning of the kitchen, 

I’d laid down on the couch, remembering to set a timer for the food in the oven. I found myself getting drowsy, ending up falling asleep for what felt like 15 minutes until there was a soft knock at the door. I woke up, rubbing my eyes and humming happily to myself, going over and looking in the peephole to see darkness. 

I rolled my eyes playfully, “Carmy- c’mon. I know it’s you” I unlocked the door and as soon as I did it was forcefully thrown open, so hard that it left a mark on the wall. I jumped back in surprise and I swore my vision went fuzzy when I saw who it was. 

“I’ve been told you need me again, darling” he shut the door behind him, locking it swiftly.  

I’m trapped. 

“Joe- Joe..Joe…leave. Please leave” I said, backing up quickly, nearly tripping over my shoes in the entry hall. 

“No. No. I told you I tooold you” he approaches me slowly, like a snake hunting a mouse. 

“I don’t belong to you, anymore Joe” I tried to sound confident and menacing, but my voice came out much weaker then I intended. 

“Winnie, my sweet, sweet little Winnie the Pooh” he backs me into the corner of the living room, gently brushing his cold boney fingers over my cheek. 

I hadn’t even realized I’d been crying, until he swipes his forefinger up my skin and brings it to his lips, humming in satisfaction. 

Sick fuck. 

“It’s okay baby, I won’t hurt you unless you try to scream, you remember the rules, don’t you, be a good girl, and I give you what you need” he grabs my jaw roughly, knocking my head back into the wall for good measure. 

“What are the fucking rules, Winnow, say it” he growls. 

I’m never going to escape him. 

“I guess I have to remind you what happens when you don’t listen to me” he seethed in my ear and I felt my body go entirely numb with fear. 

➵ 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ♡♡♡ ⋙

[kaxenart]

Jacques Chevillet's meltdown in regards to being told to cut his hair as new military regulations lives rent-free in my head

Afterwards our regiment lodged in the villages around Koblenz, a stay that was memorable because I lost what was most precious to me in the middle of a drunken binge. It pleases me to report this circumstance that leaves me a memory I will regret for a long time I have to tell you, my friend, that our regiment all wore or hair braided and tied in pony tails. Up to this point, my finery consistest of the beauty of my head of hair, in which I always took great care. I can say that I was pointed out as the third soldier, because in the regiment there were twin sergeants and I who had the best heads of hair and the most handsome ponytails. I was so interested in mine that I would never have decided to cut it even if someone had given me a thousand francs, Well, my friend, I was on the eve of losing everything in order to conform to uniformity like the others. Our regiment received the order to cut off all pony tails: that is, to trim our hair in the Roman style When I learned this news, a saber cut could not have caused me more grief. I cried in despair, saw many non-commissioned officers and soldiers who were not much more pleased than I was I didn't know what to do to avoid cutting off my ponytail. I wanted to desert instead. Thus I left the village without anyone seeing me and I went straight to Koblenz, where I encountered Florentz, a bugler of the Elite Company of the regiment. He was as vexed as I was. We ran round the streets of the city together, looking for a distraction from our heartache. So it took my fancy to go into the shop of a wigmaker to have myself freshly combed. There, I had my pony tail done and decorated in good taste. I spared nothing (since it was for the last time). Next I went with my friend into a wine merchant where we stayed part of the day. We drowned our heartache in a dozen bottles of Rhine wine, after which we found ourselves tipsy, walking arm in arm. In the city, we ran into Mr. Rene, an adjutant in the regiment, who asked us what we were doing there. I responded very resolutely. "We are not looking for a fight, Mr. René. We would like to find a regiment where they aren't cutting off their ponytails, so we can go enlist in it. It is out of pique that you see us like this." And Florentz laughed like a big half-wit, without saying anything. And babbling other reasons, we could almost not stay standing, but luckily we were dealing with a good adjutant who was not mean and who laughed at seeing us. He persuaded us to return to the village and our companions, where we arrived as best as we could, committing follies related to our condition. We soon attracted the attention of all our comrades: some laughed at my resistance to cutting such a beautiful ponytail, and others persuaded me that it was good riddance and that I was the last one to get the Roman haircut. But no one could make me see reason. So, my bunkmate, Billard. whom I encountered, brought me to our lodging where he put me to bed and I soon fell asleep. Would you believe, my friend, that they managed my sensibilities so far as to profit from the moment I was asleep to dispatch my ponytail, because on awaking I found myself shorn. I was very surprised to see my hair on a table. So, what could I do? What could I say? I had to get on with it like the others. There was no longer any remedy. I persuaded myself too that this was much more convenient for going on campaign and that consoled me.