#basically my cat the one time i tried to give him pills in his food lmao | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

59writes · 4 years ago

Text

SEVENTEEN- REACTION: THEIR S/O GETS INJURED (PT. 1)

written for the lovely @honeyylin

again, thank u for being my first request, I will love u eternally (:

I might do the other version still, idk yet!!! but I hope this is satisfactory!!!

(also shout out to my phone for autocorrecting “finally” to “fistula” I hate it here lol)

tw: food, injury

SEUNGCHEOL

• Homeboy would do his damn best to stay focused on whatever task at hand!!!

• he knows you’re a responsible person and you reassured him on the phone that you’re completely fine, but he’s still got the jitters

• but after he zones out for the third time in a row, Jihoon kicks him out of the studio and tells him to go home

• “you’ll do better there, hyung.”

• “But�� the songs-“

• “you’re not exactly contributing right now. go home.”

• and so he does, fidgeting the whole way back

• his anxiety is truly at a peak as he reaches the apartment door, practically chewing through his lip as he fumbles with the keys

• he calls your name the second the door swings open

• “y/n?”

• your head pops up from the couch, tired but grinning wildly. “Cheol!”

• the next thing you know he’s wrapping you in a hug, tension finally leaving him

• “I thought you were at the studio.” You frown when he finally moves away.

• “Jihoon made me leave.” He pouts, sitting down on the floor, eyes even with your leg, which is propped up on a chair. “I was too… out of it?”

• “Aw. I’m really okay, Cheol.” You assure again, reaching down to grab his hand, giving it a squeeze.

• “I know, I know. Just… worried.”

• It’s very clear he’s trying not to make a fuss and ask a million questions about the state of your existence, so you pat the couch next to you.

• “C’mon, we’ve got the day off now. Do you wanna finish the show?”

• His face reluctantly breaks into a grin, hopping up to join you on the couch

• and both of you forget about the pains for a little while as you lose yourself in the screen

• it’s peaceful and warm, and finally, you both get a chance to slow down

• maybe you should get injured more often (/j)

JEONGHAN

• he trusts that you’re completely fine, but he does not trust that you won’t somehow hurt yourself again

• he will babyproof the house for the next few days

• “nope, you’re not allowed to chop vegetables. give me the celery.”

• “hey! let me get that, idiot, you’re hurt.”

• “I don’t care. If you want the cat then text me and I’ll get her for you.”

• just generally being a nuisance, you know how it is

• but still, in his babyproofing he does make sure you take your pain meds on time, setting a little alarm on his phone so he can wake you up with a glass of water and your pills

• he also doordashes you your favorite food without announcing like he just says “Steve is on his way with food” and you have to just ponder who Steve is until some guy knocks on your door

• “he paid me extra to say that you’re the love of his life, so…”

• “let’s not and say we did.”

• he always makes sure to order something sweet too (:

• but yeah he’s doing work around the house and forcing you to stay in bed

• tbh it’s like having a very bossy butler lol

• but hey, at least he’s actually doing his own laundry for once!

JOSHUA

• oh my god he drops everything when he gets your text

• it’s literally just “hey josh can I get some help? I hurt myself moving some furniture” and this man goes feral

• you know how someone is so anxious that their brain shuts off and they’re scarily calm??? Joshua.

• he’s at your house in like, five minutes

• and tbh you just wanted him to finish moving the bookshelf so you didn’t have to

• but now he’s gently scolding you while wiping dirt and blood from your leg

• it’s not even that big of a cut but he’s treating it like open heart surgery

• like his hands are so gentle…

• of course he moves the bookshelf after a little more scolding before like,,, making soup like this man would definitely make soup

• like it’s just an annoying cut that’s gonna leave a bruise and this man is making some chicken noodle in the next room over like you’re dying of pneumonia

• it’s some good ass soup tho (:

JUN

• he would not know what to do tbh but he would be excellent company while you waited to heal

• he’d definitely be very panicky but would hide it as best he could!! cuz you’re the top priority!!!

• he’d lurk and when you get up he’d be like “do you need anything? aspirin? food?” and you’re just like “Jun I’m good I just need to go to the bathroom”

• he definitely knows exactly what you like, and does his best to do things like keep your favorite show on, or make you tea.

• (even when you assure him that you’re fine)

• his help is very random and antsy but still excellent lol

• and the fact that he’s constantly here to help really proves how much he cares about you and your health (:

HOSHI

• oh god, this man

• he’d be all over the place

• overreacting and then scolding and then just zoning out and then he falls asleep smh.

• this man would get out a chainsaw and ask which door you stubbed your toe on so he can destroy it lol

• but alas, no chainsaw is around (thank goodness)

• and so Soonyoung just gets to blame everything else while you’re replacing bandages or whatever

• like, he’s going on about how “just because they have safety stickers on ladders doesn’t mean they’re safe!!” and you’ll hold out your hand for gauze and he’d instinctively just grab it and put it in your hand even though he’s on a bit of a rampage

• he also most definitely is the kind to get a stuffed animal for when you’re hurt lol like every time you get sick or injured badly he gets you a bear that says “get well soon” on its stomach or on the heart it holds in its hands and eventually you just have a pile of creatures encouraging you to be healthy

WONWOO

• this man is just. excellent

• he’s caring without being demeaning, and is just so so so helpful

• he comes home and sees your arm bandaged up and just asks what happened

• and you tell him the story and he tries to hide his smile when he hears about your dumb mistake

• but still he’s patient and willing to help!!

• it’s like he could read your mind on what you needed and would just materialize behind you with a drink or an aspirin or something

• and he’d stay in the room with you whenever he could, reading or texting silently

• it was nice having such a caring presence next to you, even if he didn’t chat much

• I mean, the quiet helped you nap more easily too

• and somehow whenever you woke up, he was still there, keeping an eye on you

• if he had to leave for whatever reason he’d gently wake you up to let you know he was headed out and to call him if you need anything

• he makes the healing process peaceful (:

WOOZI

• when he hears the news he’s just. suddenly very very quiet

• like this man is out of it.

• he brushes off the others when they ask what happened, and makes it through the day fairly uneventfully

• when he gets home you almost don’t hear him, only noticing when he shuts the door

• “Jihoon?”

• He beelines straight to you before wrapping you in a huge hug. big tight hug.

• definitely swaying back and forth a little <3

• but you’re just like “woah ok bud what’s up with you”

• and one look at his face says everything

• it’s just been so much: the stress of a comeback, dealing with the managers and the other boys, and then his s/o gets hurt on top of that?

• maybe he needs a break too

• and so you both take one

• I hope you like sleeping lol

• basically you guys take the next few days to recover, just ordering food up and watching shows in silence before falling asleep together on the couch or even the floor once (hey the rug is soft!!!)

• and one day you wake up to find your injury no longer aching

• and the bed is empty next to you

• so you get up and peer down the hallway

• and Jihoon is in the kitchen, playing soft classical music while cutting vegetables

• he notices as you approach, silently offering you a carrot stick

• “I see you’re feeling better too?”

• he nods.

• you both spend the rest of the morning waking up again, cleaning the house and making food, Jihoon’s energy and personality slowly coming back too

• maybe your break wasn’t as much of him taking care of you, but you taking care of each other

• almost as if you’re tied together somehow, your ups and downs mutual

• either way, after that you’re both a lot more aware of the balance and way of recovery you two have

• and you can predict things in advance for next time!

#svt #seventeen #kpop x reader #svt scenarios #svt x reader #scoups #seungcheol #jeonghan #Joshua #Jisoo #jun #Junhui #hoshi #soonyoung #wonwoo #wonu #woozi #Jihoon #x reader #svt reactions

207 notes · View notes

marshmallowprotection · 4 years ago

Text

Saeran’s Passport Package

I’ve been waiting since the 19th to get my hands on this baby and I’m glad that it got here today. It took me a little bit to sit down and go through everything cause I wanted to cry about it the entire time.

Spoilers Ahead, everyone. So, if you’re not interested in seeing what’s in the Passport set AFTER the events of Saeran’s After Ending, then do not click Read More, got it? I’ve made it clear to you. I will say that it’s worth the money if you’re debating buying it.

So, we can go over the contents in the box, first as an overview. You receive a letter stamped with a cute sticker as well as the passport itself which holds the notes that Saeran’s been taking and drawing since this all started. I just think that’s cute. My brain said don’t open that passport until we review the letter first so, why don’t we go over the letter first? The little details are really cute. There’s just so many stamps on this baby.

The little touches are what sell it. You’ve got this man putting his love all over it and there’s a CUTE NOTE of CATS. Sir, was that a touch to Saeyoung? I know you know that your brother is a dork. Homage to brother who is an idiot but too glaringly obvious. It got a chuckle out of me. I know this man, and it’s just getting to me.

The passport itself is also really cute. It has the art from the promo banner but instead of everyone hustling around together, there’s new poses and all of that jazz. Jaehee isn’t rushing around. Zen’s got a selfie stick, no surprise on that front. Jumin just chilling. Seven and Yoosung... doing what they do best and you know it. RUN, YOOSUNG, RUN.

Saeran and MC... being cute on the inside made me go, “Aw!” Ice cream. They can really just put ice cream and it’s going to make me cry, huh? Really? Is that how easy this is? Am I a joke to you, Cheritz? Is that what this is?

Now, if you want to talk about the contents in the letter, you get this sheet that is listed in three languages, surprised me, Korean, Spanish, and English, and it lets you tick off little things that you like to do. An itinerary sheet. I feel like this is purely Jumin crafting these. It asks about Cats. Literally. Cats. Wine? Yeah, this is on Jumin. You always come in flex, Jumin, but oh boy, I’m chuckling over here at these little touches.

You get 2 boarding passes. One with Saeran’s name and one with a blank to fill in your name. I thought that was cute. Tying in that with the CG of the passes in the game with this just makes it more real to me. I’m holding this in my hands and it just makes my immersion feel much more real than it did when I was holding my phone in my hand and playing this out.

I think merch like this just makes you feel more apart of the story then you do when you’re able to talk and chat, you know? If you really like feeling like you are involved with the game, this is how you do it. You wanna know how I know that Jumin is the one setting this up with Saeran? Flip over the fucking passport and you realize that Elizabeth is on the back.

I’m still laughing.

I’m trying to imagine this and now, like, I’m starting to see why Jaehee is so damn tired because Elizabeth really is on everything that he can get his hands on and she’s good too many files to sort through when it comes to whatever the photographers take of her. Jumin can’t take photos. He’s either got Jihyun to do this for him at some point, or he’s straight up hiring photographers for her cause he can’t do it.

I mean, we all know that Jumin will put Elizabeth everywhere but I just— It’s on the BOARDING PASSES? JUMIN!

There’s also a postcard within the letter that is once more, written in all three aforementioned languages. Saeran says that it feels like a dream when he is with you, like this is where he’s always meant to be. His promise of happiness is made truest when he’s with you. I teared up a little. I know that he means well when he does that but damn, does it take an arrow to the heart every single time he does it.

Saeran put a lot of thought into this in a very short amount of time. I know that he did this plan likely with the idea that he may not be able to go with us but he wanted us to be able to see the world for him. You know, how he implied that he wanted Saeyoung to see things for him? To live for him? Even if he was dead, he wanted Saeyoung and the player to be happy and free.

The blurred state on those... doesn’t have names. It doesn’t name Saeran in this photo.

The implication of his sacrifice with the boarding passes kind of hurts because this is a side note of the fact that Saeran Did Not Know If He Would Live To See This Through. He made it thinking maybe.. if things worked out, it would be an okay future, but this was... God. I just. I’m thinking about the weight of the AE and what that felt like. I almost glossed over the Boarding Pass because I was just so upset with him.

I’m the type to try to sacrifice myself for others, too. I have that in common with Saeyoung and Saeran.

I think that we’d argue over who should die for the others and while that’s macabre, it’s just the kind of people that we are. We love these people so much that we’re willing to die if they’re safe and sound. Knowing that, I understand what Saeran tried, and even what Saeyoung tries, but it’s hard cause I want to make sure they’re happy in comparison to myself.

This is where being selfless is a bad thing.

Does anyone know what a big deal it is for Saeran to have a passport? He’s never had an ID or paperwork in his entire life. If he did, he would’ve been killed, so would his brother. They’re both never had IDs. Unless you count the ones from the Agency and Mint Eye. They’ve got them in the Believer box with their names and faces, but that’s not official. That’s not paperwork that everyone else has. That’s just...

You know?

Seeing this tangible thing in my hands is a testament to Saeran Choi being alive and thriving. He’s not afraid of showing his face. He’s living. He’s a free man and nobody can kill him for existing. Does that not weigh on anyone here? It hit me and I wanted to cry. I might break down thinking about this later because I just take this too seriously. Look at him. Look at HIM. Okay? Did you look? Now, LOOK AGAIN.

Okay, I’m not going to share every single page inside of the passport but I will give you little snippets of the journey ahead and show you what he writes and draws. Yes, he’s drawing. I knew that he was talented because he is great at doodling and drawing, but he knows how to have such a cute style that I want to gush about and he probably has no clue about how cute it is because nobody’s ever told him!

Okay, so the trip is broken up over a few months and into segments. You know how I was surprised by the 3 languages? Yes, this passport is written in three languages and it stays that way. It implies that Saeran knows English and Spanish, or at the very least, he’s been studying them, I get that it’s kind of a neat tie in to make sure that all languages are included but I only English and I can only read Spanish, I suck at conversational Spanish, so I could only read the English and Spanish sections.

So, if anyone wants to throw in what the Korean segments say, please do. I have a rough idea, but it’d be nice to know. The first segment of the trip is spent traveling over Korea. You see the things that he packed in the bag!

I almost had a heart attack because I thought the vitamins were Caffeine Pills. I was about to beat my Husband and make him go to bed. Thin ice, Saeran. Thin ice, the Special Believer package implied you take more then ten and I want you to go the fuck to sleep at night.

He packed his hanbok! Look! You remember? From the title screen event? The blue shirt is the one that he matches with MC in. There’s so much I’m screaming about it.

It shows you things that you do. Like, biking, karaoke, gardens... is there a locket bridge in Korea? You know? If you put them together on a bridge, it’s said that your love lasts forever. I forget where that came from but I guess there must be one in South Korea, too. Oh, and food. Can you believe that he can eat whatever he wants now? I’m sobbing.

Please.

HE’S IN HANBOK. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH.

Okay, here’s the thing. I only have one gripe with the Passport Package and I’m going to say this again at the end, but I really wish that they had included big photos for this because the Passport itself it rather small and I wish that I could have bigger photos of this. It’s my only complaint. Literally, it’s the only thing I have to say about the box that will affect my rating. Look, we’re doing cheesy couple stuff!

HE’S DOING THE HEART THING WITH HIS HANDS.

A KISS.

KISS.

GUSHING.

DYING. HELP. ME.

God, I wish I wasn’t broke. I would commission someone to do this for my MC.

The second and third portion of the trip are spent in the U.S.A. and Mexico, I was so surprised by that! New York and Hawaii specifically are what they name and I was. Well, those are really far apart, huh. I mean, those are very popular spots. I’m not surprised. I’m chuckling because he’s got matching outfits.

Saeran Choi, you really want the embarrassing couple look, don’t you? Well, if it’s for you, I’d do it. Did... Saeyoung or Jumin set us up, are we fucking loaded? There’s mad bank here.

Saeran and MC basically are living per Jumin and Saeyoung, to be honest, because Saeran’s never had a job and MC is... your MC literally agrees to go and test a game in the woods, how good can our lives be? I’m broke, boy. I ain’t got nothing. So, I like to think that those two are offering to let Saeran be as happy and free as he wants. No expense. Like, kindness. The RFA is too damn much, I’m gonna cry. I’m starting to understand why the RFA didn’t hear from us for months.

The final Check-In with the RFA is set 6 Months after the events that take place when we save Saeran. The events of this Passport cover 3 months. So, we go back to Korea after this adventure and met up with Saeyoung, because we know that we’re hanging out with him in the conclusion. So, if they haven’t really heard from us, that means that we’ve been traveling more with him.

I kind of like that.

We’re spending time with Saeran alone and time with the brothers together, and that’s sweet! I love that. I need to write more about it.

I’m trying not to laugh about this Mexico portion but it looks like he passed out from an ice tea... lemonade...? It’s surely not alcohol. Maybe too much sugar, I know that crash can hurt. I’ve been there. I just know that you’re not implying the man with alcohol trauma is gonna drink. Nope. Neither he nor Saeyoung ever will do that. I stand by that statement and I’ll die by that statement. Bite me my tongue if I’m wrong, but I stand by that.

Saeran is at least mindful of the sun. He’s also made notes that the perfect time for sunset is 18:34. Cute. He notes that it’s time for the Day of the Dead as well, so that’s fun!

IS THAT A FUCKING V CACTUS—

TWO V CACTUS—

There’s actually a portion in here where he asks you certain questions and you have the space to fill in it. I like that it’s interactive.

Do you have favorites sweets? Are there things about yourself that you hide? Did you make sure to ask Santa what you wanted? I’m wheezing. The food doodles are one thing, and the Christmas photo is one thing, but he really drew himself as a butterfly and the MC as a bug catcher.

“CATCH ME, MC.”

Help me.

I’m laughing so hard.

Saeran, you fucking goofball.

And, the last page of the passport is us assumedly returning home with all kinds of trinkets and gifts. Flower crown, snow globe, cactus, hats, listen, there’s a lot of details in this photos that I really wish I could have it blown up.

That’s really my only complaint about the Passport Package. I really want to have bigger photos that are shared. I wouldn’t have minded if it was the photo of the final CG in the game, or the Christmas photo, I really would have enjoyed getting that to have for myself.

You know? The passport itself is roughly like 5 x 7 or so, so while it’s not big, it’s still like. I would love to see the details blown up. It’s smaller then the diary, that I know for sure. I think it’s the only thing stopping from giving Cheritz a 10/10 on this item.

I’m going to have to give them a 9.8/10 simply because it feels like we are lacking one big photo.

I guess I’ll print my favorite CGs and decorate my room like that. But, all and all, I really enjoyed reading this and it made it feel like I was there and I was able to reflect on Saeran’s vacation with the player. Like, he was doing this as we were going using his little doodles... I’m in love with this fucking sap. I’d say that this is worth the money.

For sure.

My only gripe aside. That’s a personal problem, not really a content problem. I love this bastard.

Look at him, he’s GOT A PLUSHIE. I have so many things that I want to write about now thanks to this. Saeran, darling, sweetie, my love, I am dying. Either way, I’m glad this arrived when it did. I needed this. I justified getting this for myself because I don’t expect to get anything for my birthday in early February but I’m happy I have him.

It’s been five years since I found this game in August 2016. I’m happy that it’s been here with me.

212 notes · View notes

babaleshy · 3 years ago

Text

I'm Autistic

Because this will likely be a lengthy, wordy post about my self-diagnosis as Autistic as well as all of my experiences regarding Autistic traits, I'm going to leave a "read more" link so that you're not scrolling for ages just to catch up on your feed.

Ah, I see you've clicked "keep reading" or "read more" or whatever this site has it labeled as, now. You don't get to be mad at how long this is or how much of a waste of time reading this may be to you because you consciously clicked on the link. Therefore, I am exempt from taking responsibilities of eating up any bit of your time, including the time you've wasted reading this disclaimer.

So... Yes. I am. And it's a self-diagnosis right now.

You're probably thinking that I saw a Tik Tok clip, checked out a page on WebMD, and decided that I'm Autistic (this is in reference to a Tik Tok I saw last night that nearly made me spit out my drink because of how painfully accurate the "what people think self-diagnosis is vs reality" clip was). That is, of course, not the case.

A few years ago (likely 2018), I don't recall what it was I read online, but it made me go, "Oh wow, that makes so much sense to me," in regards to a neurodivergent trait. However, this was then I thought I had ADHD. My husband has ADHD, was diagnosed with it as a child, and because his dad forced the doctor (this was like, in the late 90s, early 2000s I think) to put him on Adderall and Ritalin, my husband does not remember 3 years of his life because he was a drooling, zombified mess. Why did his dad do this? Because his grades were bad. Did this help with his grades? No. Did his dad take him off the meds because he didn't get the desired result? Also no. My husband wasn't even informed on what ADHD was. He was simply told he had it and to take these pills. It wasn't until he (my husband) read the label saying that it could increase the risk of heart issues that he cussed his dad out and flushed all the pills down the toilet. Up until very recently, he wasn't sure if he actually had ADHD until he saw a YouTuber who was actually diagnosed with it display the exact traits he had.

But he didn't see this YouTuber when I thought I had ADHD, so my husband couldn't exactly relate, plus I didn't want to trigger anything with him on the subject.

But the more I researched, the more I realized I could be on the spectrum. It wasn't until 2019 that I was printing out articles, trait lists, etc. to highlight and put into a folder (which is thick and nearly bursting with what I've printed out to have a hardcopy of records highlighting the traits that I have, including traits my husband and my mom see in me) that I realized "I could have Asperger's."

Of course, I no longer use that term after finding out it was named after a n*zi, and I began to embrace the term "Autistic" instead.

But the thing that triggered me into going, "Wait, so it's not ADHD that I think I have, it's Asperger's?" was, like my husband, seeing a YouTuber talk about their traits and experiences. I had identical struggles, myself. (Through this same YouTuber, I also found out I'm greysexual, too! There's a name to describe my experience with sexual attraction! Yay!)

There are a lot of VERY SPECIFIC TRAITS Autistic people experience that aren't mentioned by the YouTuber or in anything that I've printed out and highlighted that I have found through various Tik Toks that I have personally experienced that simply further solidifies the fact that I'm definitely on the spectrum. When I showed the Tik Tok I mentioned earlier (I don't remember their name) to my husband last night, he was wide-eyed because the description of how that individual self-diagnosed themselves WAS EXACTLY WHAT I DID WORD FOR WORD HOLY SHIT.

I was already convinced I am Autistic, but each time I read Twitter threads of people's experiences with their Autistic traits, each time I watch Tik Toks or certain YouTubers share their experiences, it further solidifies that yep, I'm Autistic.

What's amazing is that my husband is very supportive. I'm extremely lucky to have married him. I've been a terrible masker but he loves me anyways. He never gave me shit for my meltdowns and tried to help me out, thinking I was just horribly overly stressed. Now that he knows why I've had the few outwardly noticeable meltdowns that I've had throughout our years together, he knows how to help me more, now. And while he's figured out my traits and what issues I have, knowing that I'm on the spectrum helps him make sense of why I'm like this, and he can help me accordingly whether it's to prepare for something in advance, help me calm down, etc.

(I should also add here real quick that there's a high chance I have OCD as well, but less of the compulsive actions and more of the obsessive thoughts, but I'm not entirely sure just yet if this is the case. I'm actually hoping to see someone about this but with the pandemic, I don't know when that will be.)

Now... onto the traits and experiences.

My Traits (that stand out with neon lights)(Will copy word-for-word a trait my mom or husband see in me and it will be typed in a different color.)

Having a folder that has all of my research I've obsessively looked up, printed out, highlighted what I saw in myself with one color (yellow) while highlighting what my mom and my husband see with another color (pink). I'm also using this folder to make this list as a reference because I sometimes forget certain traits I do have are because I'm Autistic. (I'm 32 as I write this, so when so much of what you think, do, and experience that you see is normal for you turns out to be an Autistic trait, it takes a while to get used to it and thus remember that because you haven't had a label for it your whole life.)

Despite being goth/punk, I dress as comfortably as I can. Textures aren't a very big issue for me, but what feels like strangulation of my body tends to be a problem. I cannot handle having the cross seams of pants feeling like I have a chopstick slowly impaling my vulva, or I can't stand how tight some shorts are that they pinch my hip joints.

I've NEVER spent much time grooming my own hair. It's either tiring, I"m impatient and want it done NOW, or both. This is why I have a Tank Girl haircut (all buzzed except for bangs), where I can basically "wash and go." (Husband does my haircuts and dyes and he's kickass at it.)

Eccentric personality; may be reflected in appearance.

Is youthful for age, in looks, dress, behavior, and tastes.

Usually a little more expressive in the face and gesture than male counterparts.

"May not have strong sense of identity and can be very chameleon like before diagnosis." (This resonates with me in the form that I never saw myself in ANY fictional character other than Tank Girl. My husband agrees with this opinion, but he also says he also sees a lot of me in Caulifla from Dragonball Super.)

I enjoy reading and films as a retreat, often sci-fi, fantasy, children's (sometimes), can have favorites which are a refuge.

Uses control as a stress management (like routines, rules, rigid certain habits, etc.)

Usually happiest at home or in other controlled environment.

I've been seen as "sensitive" by some, and mocked for crying a lot by others.

I struggled with social aspects of college and have 2 partial degrees.

Often have trouble holding a job and finds employment very daunting.

Slow at comprehending at times due to sensory and cognitive processing issues.

DOES NOT DO WELL WITH VERBAL INSTRUCTIONS; MUST BE WRITTEN DOWN

Special interests (I'll get into these later).

Emotionally immature and emotionally sensitive.

Anxiety and fear are predominant emotions (some of which might be due to possible OCD).

I do have some sensory issues such as visual processing issues at times, certain sounds, certain smells, food I think, and issues with sunlight and my goddamn retinas.

Moody and prone to bouts of depression. Both of my parents as well as my husband have described my personality as reminding them of a cat.

Mild to severe gastro-intestinal difficulties (some of which could be due to endometriosis, btw).

I stim a little such as leg-bouncing, foot-waggling, some hand-flapping, some bouncing, the "spine-shimmy," joint-cracking, or playing with my ears.

Prone to temper or crying meltdowns, sometimes over seemingly small things due to sensory or emotional overload.

Hates injustice and hates being misunderstood, which incites anger and rage.

Prone to mutism when stressed or upset, especially after a meltdown, likely to stutter and may have a raspy voice.

Words and actions often misunderstood by others.

Perceived to be cold-natured and self-centered; unfriendly.

Very outspoken at times, may get very fired up when talking about passionate/obsessive interests.

Will shutdown in social situations once overloaded but generally better at socializing in small doses. May even give the appearance of skilled, but it is a "performance."

Doesn't go out much; will prefer to go out with partner only (aka my husband).

Will not do "girly" things like shopping.

Takes relationships seriously.

There's a bit on this chart (some of you probably already know by know what chart I'm using here) that says due to sensory issues, one would either really enjoy sex or strongly dislike it. I'm in the former camp complete with a pretty high libido.

Often prefers the company of animals.

So there are the traits that REALLY stick out like a sore thumb. These come from a site regarding female Asperger traits or however it's labeled as. I have plenty more from two other articles I printed out with lots of highlighting, but the chart actually sums a lot of the definitive shit quite nicely. At some point in this list, I could tell I went "fuck it" and copied many things word for word anyways since I'll be talking about experiences later in this post.

But it was this chart that I'd discovered that I started to realize that I really am on the spectrum, and to triple check, I asked my mom and my husband if they saw any of this in me. The traits typed in green are ones I wasn't sure of and had to ask them if they saw it. I'm not always aware of how I am, who I am at times, etc. I also didn't want to lie about it, so I had to get second and third opinions.

Despite all of this, only very few people that know me IRL know about me being Autistic. This is because I was heavily bullied growing up and since I haven't exactly left my hometown, I really don't want whoever stayed in the area as well to either have more fuel and re-enter my life that way, or try really hard to relieve their guilty conscience and demand that I forgive them or some shit. I also don't want "Autism Mommies" to come at my ass either asking that I help their kid (I'm not fond of children so that's not happening, plus ableism is what fucks a lot of Autistic people over regarding of age but they won't take that for an answer) or that because they---a neurotypical person---have a child who's Autistic, then that means they know all about it and because I'm not exactly like their child then I can't possibly be Autistic. It's just a whole mountain of shit I don't wanna get into.

This next bit will be split into 2 parts. One will be my special interests, and the other will be my experiences from my past that are prime examples of being Autistic long before anyone in the common public knew what Autism actually was.

My Special Interests (Both Forever & Temporary)

The following list will have my special interests but with indicators in parentheses as to whether they are forever-interests (as in, I never lost interest in the thing) or temporary (meaning, it was short-lived be it by weeks, months, or a few years). This will be in chronological order, meaning: the order of which these have appeared throughout my life.

Barney (temporary; helped me skip preschool and become honor roll student in kindergarten though)

Halloween (forever)

the color orange (forever)

dinosaurs (forever)

Donkey Kong Country esp. for SNES (forever)

animals (forever)

Godzilla movies (forever)

monster movies (forever)

Pokemon (temporary; I still like Pokemon, but it's not as hyperfocused as it used to be)

Digimon (temporary; same situation as with Pokemon)

Dragonball Z (forever)

Sailor Moon (on-and-off)

Ultimate Muscle (Kinnikuman Nisei) (forever)

Freddy vs Jason movie (still like, but the hyperfocus was temporary)

horror movies (forever)

Transformers (temporary)

Dark Knight movie (temporary)

Harley Quinn (temporary)

Lobo (temporary)

X-Men (forever, but only certain universes, mainly the 90s cartoon, and the character is always Hank McCoy)

neon-colored stuff (temporary; kind of some sort of semi-rave/techno phase)

books (forever; this was when I discovered it's "legal" to enjoy books if you "aren't smart"; I may explain this logic I had later in the post)

sex/sexuality/sexology (forever on the first two, temporary on the last one)

BDSM (on-and-off)

feminism (temporary in regards to doing research and educating myself; I still hold the views I've developed as a result, just not obsessively researching this topic anymore)

anarchism (forever)

ecology (forever)

Pleistocene epoch (forever)

goth and punk stuff (forever after discovering what these things are all about for real compared to when I was in high school and had no idea how to ask, who to ask, or where to look this stuff up at in rural Ohio)

Hellblazer (temporary)

Serbian heritage (on-and-off)

bats (temporary)

arachnids (forever)

teratophilia (forever; finally have a word to describe this damn kink)

gardening (current; unsure)

Russian language (current; unsure)

DIY things (forever)

Towards the end, it may not be in the proper order thanks to slowly losing my damn mind being cooped up mostly in my room on this farm since moving back here in 2014. The two that are "current;unsure" are ones I have a hyperfocus in right now, but I don't know if this will be temporary or not. I certainly hope not, especially considering how useful these things will be. And while I have gardening as one of them, I haven't properly begun yet because I get empty promises from my parents where they claim they'd help me, not to worry about it, then get irritated when I ask where the help is and they suddenly can't give me the help when I told them I needed it.

I should also note that I don't exactly have an encyclopedic knowledge in a whole lot of these interests that are forever-interests because I'm normally exhausted just trying to exist with minimal trouble from people. I'm hoping this will change. The things I know I have an almost encyclopedic knowledge in would be Dragonball Z, animals/ecology, and... a-and that's it. That's really it. That's all I've got because Dragonball Z was so profoundly different compared to other cartoons I've watched in the 90s that it was a wonderful escape, and I grew up around animals, taking care of animals, and watching nature documentaries. The stress I went through growing up has caused my memory of some of that wonderful animal knowledge to be lost and what could be re-gained may be easily forgotten again, hence why I need to narrow my focus for what I'd like to be an ecologist for. While I love paleontology, I want to help the living world's ecosystems and environments, too. I'd love to go back to school for this stuff now that I'm more informed of who I am and what I want in life (as opposed to being forced to pick a college major while still in high school while I'm just trying to survive the concept of existence).

In terms of collecting things pertaining to my interests, a common pattern you'll see me have is a very slowly growing Hank McCoy collection. This is largely because there isn't too much stuff made regarding this character. (There also isn't much stuff I can find that involves Piccolo, Cyndaquil, Donkey Kong, giant ground sloths, etc. that isn't already snatched up by other fans.)

Now, I'm going to get into the list of experiences. Some of which will talk about my special interests, but I also really want to talk about my struggles, too.

Experiences That Screamed "I'm Autistic"

In gradeschool, I was friends with someone who probably wasn't actually a friend and her mom made her hang out with me since I didn't really have any friends. She has told me several times that she didn't want to be my friend anymore with some kind of hostile catty smile, but I just.. I wasn't getting it. Because there was a smile. Why say that with a smile? After all we've been through? Then she's back to being my friend the next week. She really wanted to hang out with the popular girls (yes, there were cliques in 90s American gradeschool) and has done countless things to sabotage our friendship such as telling me Barney is a fake, Donkey Kong was a real gorilla who hung himself, etc. And I believed all this shit, too, in an attempt to still be an acceptable friend. She even told me that I couldn't be a witch because I liked toads so much (toads were the only wildlife I excitedly interacted with in my back yard on a regular basis).

I love Halloween for many reasons, but one of them (aside from my favorite color being involved) was the fact that it was acceptable to wear a mask. I love (and still do) the idea of covering my face because I feel less "naked" to the world. So this pandemic had a small plus for me in the form of mask-wearing outside of Halloween has become somewhat more acceptable.

In 5th grade, another classmate who had more obvious Autistic traits and was diagnosed with Asperger's at the time was an asshole to me. They would constantly give me shit and bully me for whatever reason. When I finally took a stand, the teachers on duty at recess called me to the bottom of the hill, forcing me to look at them WITHOUT allowing me to have my hands up to block the sunlight that hurt my eyes, and were able to manipulate me into "admitting picking on so-and-so for no reason" because I chased them around the playground where a group of girls (the same cliquey assholes the former "friend" wanted to mingle with) had to group-carry me away. They're the ones who snitched and they gave me those same hostile smiles. That's when I learned that not all smiles meant good things. I was 10.

I sometimes "lose the ability" to ask for help long before the "help" I ever got in any circumstance was just me being met with frustration by whoever is trying to "help" me or I'm met with "sorry, can't help you there. (The former being with homework or school work, the latter being with going to authorities about bullies.)

Growing up, I was never girly (or girly enough) and I've tried to, but I failed miserably. My special interests would roar through and because it was too odd or different or annoying, it gave other girls fuel for bullying me with.

Regarding the lack of being girly enough, I was at a pool party with the former "friend" mentioned earlier and she started this "game" where she and the other girls would leap into the pool saying, "I love you, Leonardo!" This was in 4th grade and in reference to the Titanic movie, which at that point, I'd never heard of, because I was too pumped for the latest Land Before Time sequel. So when I leapt into the pool, I said, "I love you, Raphael." All the girls were confused, asked who that was. I then asked, "Aren't we playing Ninja Turtles?" Because the only Leonardo I knew of was a fucking Ninja Turtle, goddamnit. Who let you brats watch that shitty romance film anyways? Boring as fuck.

Aside from the occasional weekend visits or sleepovers at the former "friend's" house, I didn't get to socialize much, so I would spend most of my days (especially in the summer) watching what was on TV or watching from our very large VHS collection. During which I would make mental notes on how certain characters acted or what they said and try to remember that to mimic them in a social setting, which would be out of place because I'd be so focused on mainly the dialogue that once it prompts me to say the thing, they don't respond how I expect them to and then I'm at a loss.

I was very ignorant of music and didn't even know the concept of independent or underground bands existed. Plus, rural Ohio is a cultural wasteland. Otherwise, I would've gotten into metal, goth, and punk way earlier in life. So I thought that bands that existed were because television said so.

Speaking of an odd logic... If it was taboo or bad to talk about, I thought it was illegal. Thus, I thought any knowledge about sex was illegal and that it was supposed to happen "naturally."

I also thought that, because I wasn't considered as smart by my peers, some teachers, and even as such in the form of an insult from my parents from time to time (despite what they claim NOW), that also meant I wasn't allowed to enjoy books, because only smart people are allowed to enjoy reading. So therefore, it would be illegal for me, a not-smart person, to enjoy reading a book. So I had to focus on the pictures because if I enjoyed reading, somehow everyone would know and then I'd get into trouble.

I also thought it was illegal to talk about periods.

I socially struggled BADLY when I got to middle school because my brain was like... 4 years behind? How the fuck do people know all these bigger words? Or complex issues? This was also when I had to start suppressing ALL urges to cry because at that age, I'm not "supposed" to cry over everything. So I still, to this day, suppress it to the point of guaranteeing inducing a headache. Because I've always caught shit for crying.

Middle school was when I met an oppressive "friend" who was obsessed with me because she had a crush on me and was rather controlling of who I could and couldn't talk to and got pissy if I got close to making a new friend. Because I was desperate for a friend that wasn't like the former "friend," I allowed this abuse into my life.

High school was me just trying to survive. By the time I got home, I was too mentally exhausted to enjoy anything short of watching TV or whatever was rented from Blockbuster.

My brain was still feeling like it was years behind, and I struggled to keep up with whatever was supposed to be something I knew about, including the concept of masturbation.

Like I said earlier, anything sex-related might've been illegal to talk about, and because masturbation was still kinda taboo, I feared I'd get in trouble, but my teenage hormones compelled me to do it a LOT. It consumed my free time almost like an escape, a form of stimming, but I was shameful of it to the point of suicidal thoughts.

The former bullet was due to being raised in a christian household. My parents didn't have such views on sex like this, but I was afraid of being in trouble for asking, took to the internet, and caught some misinfo about how immoral it was. I mourned I'd be going to hell.

Speaking of religion, I thought it was illegal to change your religious beliefs, and there was only Judiasm, Muslim, and Buddhism outside of christianity (I'm Pagan, now).

While I was excited to get away from my parents presumably for good after high school, college was a new form of hell. The sudden, dramatic change in environment and lack of ANY preparation for living like an adult on my own caused me to mentally/socially/emotionally malfunction. I had outbursts I desperately tried to suppress, I felt stupid because everybody sounded smarter than me, I didn't actually want to go to art school but wasn't smart enough for anything else and never really bothered to better my artistic skills and thus felt like I shouldn't be there anyways, I struggled to fit in better, I had no idea how to function that certain habits such as neglect of my own dishes on my desk developed because I LITERALLY COULD NOT SEE MY OWN MESSES DUE TO THE STRESS I WAS EXPERIENCING. This was 3 or 4 long YEARS of this.

Attending art classes mostly run by very demanding (and demeaning) teachers while my art skills weren't up to par added to this stress on top of me not actually wanting to be THERE in the first place, just away from my parents.

I nearly ruined a friendship with a roommate because of my struggles. I'm not even sure if she is aware of my Autism because I'm afraid to approach her about it for some reason.

Plenty of times throughout my life where I'm loud and don't even realize it.

I've info-dumped on my parents, but right now they half or completely ignore me.

I've tried making eye contact, but it's like staring in the sun not in the sense of pain, but in the sense of by natural reaction looking away. When I force myself to make eye contact, I'm spending so much focus and effort into doing that to the point where I am unable to pay attention to what the person is saying. Instead, I stare at the mouth so I make sure I hear correctly the words they're telling me.

Each time someone is mad at me and gives me the silent treatment, and I inquire what I did to piss them off, they get madder because I'm somehow supposed to immediately know when I fucking don't. Then, half the time, they continue not telling me and I have to hear it from someone else. This further confuses me as to why they don't just simply fucking tell me.

I've annoyed people to listening to the same one or few songs over and over again. A lot (currently obsessed with the Sunset Overdrive and Tank Girl movie soundtracks).

I can "smell" the heat outside on a summer day.

I can smell other people's unique scents sometimes (especially when in someone's house; also experienced this in other people's dorms).

I can't remember what grade this was, but in high school, we went to some kind of space camp facility thing, and our class was split into two groups: one group was the group who was on Mars and ready to come home, the other was on Earth and can't wait to go to Mars. I was in the former group. My job in this little fun display interactive room thing was to examine the isotopes and report... uh.. I can't remember.. Report something that was off. Everyone else was dicking around with what they're supposed to do, and I was actually doing my job, and then said something, like I was supposed to, if I found something that was off (I don't remember the specifics). When the scientist who worked at the facility praised me on "saving the crew," I caught this look from the entire class a look I can't quite describe other than they didn't seem to like the fact that I did a good thing and was being praised for it instead of any of them (or they were shocked that a "dumb girl" like me could achieve this and get praise for it, I don't know.. hard to tell). This was a science class field trip, but despite this, I didn't have an interest in space, and still didn't feel I was smart. (Come to think of it, I think this was actually an 8th grade field trip, I can't remember.)

Just discovered this today: I'm actually very easily overwhelmed that could trigger a meltdown when I wake up. I don't know for how long until that point passes, either. But this could also be explained with how I've reacted to certain alarm clocks (the ones with the bells just induce pure rage in me). Either I will be on the verge of a meltdown or I'll have a fucking headache all day. Normally, I just wanna drink my coffee and either read or practice a little on Duolingo.

I don't always have enough room for a lot of info in my head for things that I like, so I have to carefully narrow shit down. Right now, I'm trying to figure out what to do about my urge to get my hands on some monster movies while making sure nothing else I've retained info for wanes. Not sure if this is due to stress or what. But apparently I have designated compartments for certain categories in my brain. If I get into monster movies, continue to work on my knwoledge on ecology and paleontology, and gain more knowledge about arachnids, that shouldn't impede on the "language" category, so whatever I learn in Russian will remain safe.

Interest "Webs."

I have what I'd like to call an "interest web." My special interests in one thing can lead me to having an interest in another. I care about nature, and I also care about paleontology. Paleoecology is something I'd like to dip my toes into. But because this all involves nature, I have an interest in botany (though it's still intimidating so I'm sticking with local native trees) and arachnids (after conquering my fears and learning more about them). So the web stops at arachnids there (no pun intended).

Back to ecology and paleoecology...

I have a major interest in the Pleistocene because it was just before we humans started writing shit down. Hints of that era echoes within our current environment, from the pronghorn being "unnecessarily" fast (due to miracynonyx, the "American cheetah," which is now an extinct cat) to avocados not seeding like they should without human assistance as well as the yucca trees (Joshua trees) going into retreat thanks to the absence of giant ground sloths.

But the planet is warming, and we could use all the help from plants that we get, especially when it comes to making sure that permafrost stays frozen. So there's this "Pleistocene Park" project taking place in Russia, and one day, if I get into the field of paleontology, I may want to chat with those involved in that project, but one can't expect every other country to know English.

There's also FROZEN PLEISTOCENE MEGAFAUNA CARCASSES BEING FOUND IN PERMAFROST, too.

On top of all of this, Russia's northern lands will become habitable for humans if shit hits the fan and the planet's mostly fucked, so it's still nice to know the language.

See how all of these interests intertwine? (It also helps that since I am of Serbian heritage but can't find accessible resources to learn the language and I wanna know a Slavic language that Russian is kind of accessible. It also seems to be the only Slavic language "commonly" found in colleges when it comes to foreign language courses.) This is why I call them "interest webs." Not sure if other Autistic people have them, but it's something that I have.

The second one could simply involve Halloween, punk, goth, monsters, and teratophilia with Halloween being the gateway because my favorite color is orange.

Just thought this would be a fun thing to touch on real quick.

My Sensory Traits

I do experience some sensory traits, but they're not intense like some people would assume (unless I'm simply not noticing how intense they can be).

I can "smell" the summer heat, which was something I thought everybody else experienced but I'm wrong.

My retinas hurt in bright sunlight despite not looking anywhere near the sun, which I also thought everybody else experienced.

Drinks taste different or off in some way if they're not in a particular mug, glass, etc. that the drink is supposed to be in. (I have certain mugs that I enjoy my coffee in, but the other mugs? They taste off. I can't explain why. I have ONLY TWO acceptable little tumbler glasses for orange juice.)

Breakfast food does not taste like breakfast food unless it's on this one specific plate from my childhood.

Dinner can be iffy on certain plates, but the safest go-to is the knock-off blue willow plates.

Lunch is acceptable on anything, but if I'm having simply a sandwich, it must be on a small plate.

I have specific forks I'd prefer to use because of how they feel in my hand, how the food-part feels in my mouth, and how the fork itself tastes.

Gotta have cinnamon in my coffee. I just do. It's not coffee without it.

I cannot fucking handle hair snippets of any size for any reason on my body. This is why there is a rigid procedure to where my husband must buzz my hair over a paper-towel-covered sink (to avoid clogging the drain) while wearing a particular tanktop Harley Quinn night shirt, and then I must shower immediately afterwards. During the haircut, my skin itches like mad like I'm being poked by the hairs directly even in places where hair snippets have never, ever gone.

I'm overly sensitive to the cold to the point of pain, especially in my fingers and toes.

Also cannot brush teeth with cold water because it's so painful (this was LONG before I had dental issues and persists to this day). Even my tongue hurts from it.

I'm picky as fuck with candy. Trick-or-treating was sometimes difficult because all I cared about was either orange-flavored stuff, or chocolate. Only specific chocolates, too (Krackle, Mr. Goodbar, Crunch, Butterfinger, Reese's, that was it.) Skittles were okay, but a lot of the baggies I got had a LOT the red ones and the red ones suck. Can't stand the other candies. (But my tastes have changed since then, and I opt for European chocolate from Aldi's as they are far superior, especially Moser Roth's 70% dark chocolate and Choceur's coffee and cream chocolate.)

Speaking of candy, the Whopper's Robin's Eggs tasted better than regular Whoppers and I will never be able to explain why.

Despite loving orange flavored stuff, I have trust issues when I see an unlabeled orange candy because there's the dangerous chance it could be fucking peach flavored. *gag* (I like real peaches, but the artificial flavored ones suck balls.) Due to my dental situation, I cannot enjoy very much in a way of candy, and the only artificial orange flavoring I CAN enjoy is through Vitamin D gummies... And even then, EVEN THEN I have to worry about the fucking peach flavors if I have to go with a different brand because we can't get our hands on a bottle from Simple Truth.

Artificial cherry flavoring is death.

The ONLY flavored medicine that was acceptable to me was orange (of course) and those dissolving strips that were grape-flavored that they don't fucking make anymore because fuck me that's why. Everything else was peer-pressured to do shots kiddie edition.

The different colored coatings on M&M's taste different from one another and I cannot explain why. It's very subtle, hardly noticeable, BUT I CAN TELL.

Peanutbutter is fucking amazing.

The smell of peanutbutter is fucking not.

There are these frozen meals my husband gets for days he doesn't have energy to cook and one of them (all from the same brand) smells like fucking hell.

My husband's Nissan Cup Noodle ramen overpowers my incense despite what other household members say.

I love incense, especially dragonsblood, "coffee time," pumpkin spice, raven, and rain.

All of the autumn scents or scents associated with autumn are orgasmic to me.

The smell of artificial cherry is death.

I would love to have perfume or body spray of Play-Doh.

I can compare smells of some places to others, such as the library branch I frequent smells like my gradeschool, as do SOME of their books' pages, and when my husband and I walked through this hall-like tunnel-like storefront in downtown Pittsburgh, I said it smelled like my grandma's basement, and he thought the same, so we're in aggreeance that all grandma's basements smell the same. Except for my Baba and Deda's. Their basement smelled like they actually still enjoy life and had their shit together.

Speaking of gradeschool smells, my gradeschool had two directions of classrooms, one led towards the gym, but the hall off to the side was carpeted, had some nice colors, and held 2 kindergarten classes and 2 first grade classes. That section of the building had its distinctive smells. The other direction led to the office, the cafeteria, and the hall with the 2 classes of grades 2 through 5 plus the preschool and the art/music class was. The smell was different in all classes EXCEPT for the music/art class, and I never went to preschool so I wouldn't know what that smells like.

ALL PRINCIPLE OFFICES SMELL THE SAME. HOW.

I could smell when my husband accidentally put in cinnamon when he thought he grabbed paprika in a dish that I liked. He was terrified of telling me. That was a happy accident and it became a permanent ingredient. He was mortified and shocked that I could smell his whoopsie in my dinner he made me.

I can also smell the cinnamon they use in Little Caeser's pizza crust. Yes. They use cinnamon. But I was the only one to notice.

Honey is like peanutbutter: it tastes amazing. But holy shit fuck that smell.

Gas stations smell like death, sadness, and questioning life's choices.

No two people's car interiors smell alike.

I can smell when it will rain soon, especially if it's about to storm.

I'm the one who noticed that hairy white oldfield asters smell like cake batter.

Dominant yellow filling my entire vision can be sometimes painful.

I used to be able to "hear" the color yellow in my head so much I thought yellow actually made a noise. It was a particular shade of yellow, and it made this Playskool toy-like clicking bell ringing noise, but really obnoxiously, almost painfully. I don't know how to describe the shade other than "cloudy pastel lemon?" It looked like the fucking lemon-flavored medicine I had to take as a kid.

My parents tried mixing in this cherry flavored death medicine in with my orange soda thinking I wouldn't know the difference but I did, so I dumped it down the drain and opened a new can because that can of Big K orange was fucking ruined.

Orange is wonderful to my eyes. But it's a hard color for me to find when it comes to getting things in a particular color. My back-up colors are red, green, and purple.

The sunlight hurts my retinas, even when I'm not looking at the sky at all, but the pain intensity increases the further I look up on a sunny summer day. This has been like this since childhood. Prescriptive sunglasses shouldn't be fucking expensive and should be covered by healthcare insurance.

I have to try really FUCKING hard not to stare at someone's muscles in person because ugh... Good thing I rarely see anybody who's well-built. (No really, this isn't even really a sexual thing, I'm so fucking fascinated and once I realize "oh, so that particular muscle looks like that from that angle", I get a glimmer of hope that I MIGHT be able to draw something humanoid since I suck at drawing people.)

Orange trees as so pleasing to the eye, and these are much more socially acceptable to stare at, lest I'm in person and the property owner might think I'm plotting to steal some (luckily I've never been anywhere near a place that grows orange trees).

Neon lights are amazing and I want them to come the fuck back. I swear, stores were so much more enjoyable of an environment when they were common. Such lights improve my mood in a way I cannot describe. I'm no longer in a hurry to get home if I am in the presence of neon lights.

Sunny days during winter are painful because the sunlight reflects off the snow. I'm painfully blinded if I look outside or go anywhere.

I cannot handle the sight of someone having boogers/snot hanging from their nose, not the sight of someone vomiting, nor the sight of an syringe needle piercing flesh.

I cannot handle the sound of alarm clock bells. I have woken up in a rage and been in a bad mood I try so hard to suppress for a good portion of the day. If I hear an alarm clock bell now these days, I wanna take it and chuck it across the room regardless the time of day or if I'm already awake. It's not so bad if I hear it from a video. In person? That's starting a war with me.

Children crying or screaming (especially babies) are almost painful to me and triggers my fight-or-flight response.

The reason why I was the loudest mellophone player in marching band was to drown out hearing the fucking trumpets. And I did; I was louder than the trumpets. (I quit marching band my sophomore year but for different reasons.)

Much of the music from the 80s that gave it that sound that definitely said it's from the 80s is very pleasing to my ears.

I love punk music for its messages, lyrics, and energy, but goth always puts me into a headspace where I feel like I'm at home; I'm at peace and want to cuddle the monster under my bed.

However, some punk songs can hit deep or strong and live rent-free in my head, such as Anti-Flag's "Racist," Bikini Kill's "Rebel Girl," and Skarpretter's "Nazi Scum."

One particular artist's voice I cannot get over because his is the first voice of any kind that makes me wanna fan myself is Peter Steele of Type O Negative. My favorite song, however, is "All Hallow's Eve" because his voice, the subject, and the lyrical content.

I'm able to hear something off in the oscillating fan my husband likes to use before he notices it.

I'm the one who can hear coyotes at night (doesn't help my mom wants to blast westerns to drown out the world and I'm back here in my room away from that shit though).

I can hear the branches scraping against the house, gently making creepy noises before I realize what the fuck it is, BUT NOBODY ELSE HEARS IT.

I can recognize the call of a robin because we had so many at the house I grew up in, and nobody else in this family fucking noticed.

I tend to notice the sound of the rain over all the house noise first.

I don't like tight clothing, which is why I prefer bralettes because my tits hurt.

If I could, I'd go without the bra because the band can sometimes suddenly feel tighter than it actually is, but because I have large nipples, I kinda need that bra for a bit of protection.

Shorts can be tight around the crotch, hip joins, and lower belly region, and that's a big no-no for me.

I'd prefer baggy pants, honestly.

Can't have tight footwear. No.

The seam at the top of socks or tights hurt my pinky toes if the whole sock/tights shift that way.

I already covered the hair snippet thing so since this is the sense of touch, another body hair thing is I kinda don't wanna shave my pits anymore because they are extremely itchy when they grow back. HAVE to shave my crotch because if I don't it gets horribly itchy, and my thick, fast-growing hair weaves into underwear, gets caught in pads, etc.

Ah yes. Pads. I hate them, but they're far more acceptable than a tampon or a cup because I have vaginismus.

Certain fabric textures are itchy as hell. There's a black shirt I have whose collar and cuffs are gorgeous but I have to wear something underneath to avoid feeling itchy.

Winter is hell for me here in the midwest, as I am very susceptible to the cold to the point of pain, especially in my fingers and toes. I become very slow, too. I feel like I can't get warm enough most of the time.

Air conditioned places in the summer feel almost similar, so I don't always wear shorts if I'm expected to go into, say, a Walmart with my husband to pick up everything. I'll shiver.

(We're gonna get into TMI territory here.) Can't masturbate by hand unless I've got a nitrile glove on because my brain only focuses on what my fingers are touching more than what my cunt feels.

Can't have any sex with my husband without anything brighter than low-light because things can be visually distracting in the room, or lights can suddenly feel way too bright to me. (Halloween string lights or those LED rope lights with adjustable brightness features and colors are excellent for this situation.)

In Conclusion

This is all that I've figured out so far. None of this hit me at once as a realization when I figured out that I'm Autistic. This took a while to realize it, and the realizations were mostly at random times through examples of other people experiencing it on the internet or through me going, "Huh, is that an Autistic trait?"

There may be even more that I'm currently unaware of or have forgotten to type here.

I apologize for how extremely lengthy this was. This took all day to type because of having to get up and do other things that needed to be done. One of the reasons why I really wanted to type this is because it's much easier to organize this on a computer, and I am absolutely shit at organizing files on my computer.

Unfortunately, while my husband is wonderful in supporting me, my parents aren't exactly all that great at it. Especially my dad, who is either vaguely dismissive or outright "forgets" that I'm Autistic (he honestly just... doesn't care, and tries to make things convenient for him at the expense of others most of the time). My mom... I'm not real sure. There are times where she seems to remember and others where she doesn't. I'm honestly wondering if they don't like knowing that I'm Autistic because that means my brother would have been as his traits were far more obvious than mine.

I hope that whoever is questioning whether or not they're Autistic has found this helpful at least in the sense that it would point you in the right direction on where to go next, but I would highly recommend checking out online Autistic communities, as that's where I've discovered that I'm on the spectrum.

#autism #asperger's #adhd #special interests #sensory traits #autistic traits #sorry for how long this is

21 notes · View notes

gingwrites · 3 years ago

Text

Not Sick Enough (jinkook)

Summary: jinkook fic where Jungkook is super sick but is ignoring all the signs and still working. Jin finds him, but JK claims he’s “not sick enough to justify staying home,” but then basically collapses, so Jin takes him home and takes care of him.

The music ended and Jungkook dropped down to his knees and then slumped over on his side, breathing heavily, sweat dripping down his face. He didn’t know how long he’d been in the studio, but he knew it had been a while.

After spending a moment longer on the floor, Jungkook slowly picked himself up and dragged his feet toward his bag in the corner. He plopped down on the floor, back against the wall, while he dug around for his water bottle.

Jungkook gulped down half the bottle in one go, only stopping because he needed to breathe. After gasping for a few breaths, Jungkook dug around again in his bag until he was triumphant and pulled out a pill bottle.

The past few days, Jungkook had been feeling a little under the weather, headaches, body aches, stuffy nose, the works. He didn’t think anything of it, pushing through and continuing to work. He knew he probably only had a cold, which he didn’t think was cause enough to spend time at home doing nothing while he recovered. Hence why he was at the studio late on a Friday night.

Jungkook popped a few pills into his mouth and downed the rest of the bottle. Hopefully they’d kick in in a few minutes. On top of the cold symptoms, his muscles were starting to get sore from how long he’d been spending dancing the last couple of days.

A few more moments passed while Jungkook sat on the floor catching his breath. He then pulled himself up and went to turn the music back on. A couple more run throughs and then I’ll go home, he told himself. His bed was starting to look real good right about now.

A few more run throughs of the dance (Jungkook didn’t know how many, he’d lost count after five, but he was having trouble with one move that he was determined to get right), the door swung open and Seokjin poked his head in.

“What are you still doing here?” Seokjin yelled over the song.

Jungkook stopped mid-move and turned his head toward the older man before running to turn off the music. Seokjin made his way inside the studio, walking toward Jungkook.

“Come on, let’s go home. It’s late enough as it is,” Seokjin suggested once Jungkook paused the music.

“You go on home, hyung. I’ll meet you there. I still want to get this move right,” Jungkook replied.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” Seokjin countered.

“Maybe like 10 or 11?” Jungkook guessed.

“It’s 2 am, Jungkook. Time to go home,” Seokjin said with no room for arguing.

No, it couldn’t be that late! Jungkook had gotten to the studio around 2 pm. There was no way he’d spent that long in the studio without a break.

“Grab your bag, time to go get some sleep,” Seokjin demanded. He knew the boy could be stubborn, but he wasn’t going to put up with any arguments. It was late and the younger boy looked like he was about to pass out. He could perfect that move tomorrow. Or the day after if Seokjin had anything to do with it. The boy needed a day of resting and lazing around in bed all day.

“Fine,” Jungkook conceded, knowing he wasn’t going to win an argument with Seokjin. Besides, he did feel like his legs were going to give out on him at any second.

And that second came sooner than Jungkook thought. As soon as he bent down to grab his bag, the world swayed around him. Whether it was the blood rushing to his head or the exhaustion from the combined strenuous dancing and lack of food, he didn’t know. All he knew was that the floor was approaching his face at an alarming rate.

“Woah!” Seokjin cried, jumping to grab Jungkook’s arm to hold him up.

“I’m okay, hyung. Just a little vertigo or something,” Jungkook replied after Seokjin had steadied him with a hand around his waist.

“That was not a little vertigo,” Seokjin argued, reaching up to put a hand on Jungkook’s forehead. “You’re burning up!”

“I’ve been dancing. Of course I’m going to be warm,” Jungkook tried arguing.

“That is not exercising warm. That is fever warm. You’re also pale and look like you’re about to pass out on your feet. Why didn’t you tell anybody you were sick? And why are you dumb enough to continue to work while you’re sick?” Seokjin asked exasperatedly.

“I’m not sick enough to justify staying home,” Jungkook mumbled under his breath, knowing that Seokjin would not be happy to hear his excuse.

Seokjin sighed. He couldn’t believe the boy would put his health in danger just to practice a little more. Okay, he could believe it. The younger was notorious for doing it. But it still didn’t make it right.

“You being sick at all justifies staying home,” Seokjin finally replied. “No dance move is worth your health. Come on, let’s get you home and in bed. And if you’re lucky, I’ll warm you up some soup.”

“Homemade?”

“Fine, homemade,” Seokjin sighed, knowing he’d give anything to the younger man.

The two made their way out to the car, Seokjin’s arm around Jungkook’s waist. Seokjin wasn’t about to risk Jungkook going face-first into the concrete outside.

When they finally made it home, Seokjin had to wake Jungkook up and help him out of the car. By the time they finally made it inside, Jungkook was practically asleep again, barely held upright by Seokjin’s arm.

Seokjin tucked the sick boy into bed, leaning down the place a gentle kiss on Jungkook’s forehead before leaving the room to go make some soup. It didn’t matter that it was the middle of the night; he’d do anything for Jungkook.

The next day, Jungkook still felt like he’d been hit by a truck, and Seokjin forced him to stay in bed and slowly nursed him back to health. And Jungkook wasn’t going to complain when he got free cuddles and kisses. Maybe getting sick wasn’t the worst thing after all.

Let me know what you think! This is also posted as a thread fic on my twitter (@/yoongismandu) and on ao3 (@newtmasofficial). Also, if you have requests/ideas, send them to me here, on ao3, or on my curious cat (link on twitter). I plan to post thread fics on twitter first and then on here and ao3 a few days later, so follow me on twitter to read them first!

#jinkook #jungkook #seokjin #jin #kim seokjin #jeon jungkook #jungkook x seokjin #jungkook x jin #bts #bangtan sonyeondan #bangtan #bts fanfic #sick fic #bts sickfic #sickfic #ging writes

12 notes · View notes

oftenderweapons · 4 years ago

Text

Hold Me Close – Yoongi

Pairing: Yoongi x reader (nicknamed Kitten)

Wordcount: 1.1k (to be edited)

Genre: fluff, a tiny bit of angst, established relationship, idol!AU

Rating: GP (general public)

Hello gingerbread folks! I’m just stopping by to dedicate this small thingie to @nervous-moon, who needed some Yoongi fluff tonight.

I’m re-editing this small drabble and adding an audio track (that you can find here - OUT SOON). The plot is very basic: Kitten is studying for a masterclass, staying up too late and taking poor care of herself. Yoongi, devoted and worried, tries to make sure she doesn’t overwork herself. As he realises she’s not in bed yet, he goes looking for her and the two have a late night heart to heart.

I really felt like writing something relieving and comforting, so here I am.

It’s pure fluff. A tiny bit of angst, but a reasonable amount. Just lots of cuddles.

-------------------------------------------

You looked at the clock.

3.17 am.

You pushed yourself through one more chapter.

Just one more, you told yourself, staring at the pages on your laptop. You drank some more water to keep yourself from yawning.

In the last few months you had been taking extra classes that explored the latest innovations in terms of copyright and authorship, focusing especially on online contents and music platforms.

Yoongi had encouraged you into doing so, supporting you through the whole process, including he selections, the studying, and the fact that you were still working while taking the classes.

He was basically a substitute parent, making sure that you slept a reasonable amount of hours, that you had proper breakfast, that you kept yourself hydrated and that you took your vitamins and your sleeping pills. He had a hawk eye, always spotting small details like when you left food in your lunch box, when you went too long without taking a shower and when the black circles under your eyes became too deep. Sometimes he noticed you rubbing your eyes as they were too dry from all the hours spent at the computer screen, which always made him magically appear like a fairy, pushing your chin back and helping you put eyedrops on your burning irises.

That night, you were so caught up in your handbook, Tchaikovsky playing in your earbuds, that you didn’t notice the soft sound of Yoongi’s feet padding towards you.

You jerked around as soon as you felt his fingertip poking your shoulder.

He took off your earbud. “It’s three a.m., Kitten, for god’s sake.” He murmured with his gravelly voice,

You bit your lip nervously before justifying yourself. “I just wanted to finish this chapter.”

He exhaled in disappointment. “Three a.m. Stop saying ‘just one more chapter’.” He cupped your cheek as he scolded you fondly.

“Tomorrow is Sunday. I’m cramming so I can sleep in and spend some time with you.” You explained, wrapping your hand around his wrist.

“Okay.” He said, sitting on the sofa, beside you, laying down on his side and placing his joined hands between his knees, his head on your lap.

You simply moved your laptop aside as you kept reading, your hand naturally diving into his hair and carding the locks. You changed your background music to Chopin’s Nocturnes and lowered the volume, slipping one earbud into his ear.

His face nuzzled against your belly while your hand moved down, rubbing his back. You kept your writing hand free, just to scribble down some notes as you read the penultimate paragraph. You had to read it again.

You were reaching your breaking point, your head so full that you could barely stuff anything more in there.

Distractedly, your hand climbed up, towards Yoongi’s neck, cupping his jaw while your thumb drew small circles on his cheekbone, his eyelids fluttering once you stopped to focus on writing the keywords to the last paragraph.

You didn’t think there was anything worth noticing. With tiredness weaving through every fiber of your being, you closed your notebook and pushed your laptop close, being as quiet as possible. Yoongi wrapped his arms around your waist as you bend forward, placing your supplies on the coffee table.

“There’s something I haven’t told you.” He murmured quietly while his fingertips moved under your shirt and traced the outline of your lower vertebrae.

Your eyes closed at the sensation. So warm. So tender. So familiar.

“We’ve received the new schedule today.” He said, while your palm slipped to his tummy, rubbing small circles on the fluffy fleece of his pyjamas shirt. You let your fingers slide under the hem of the garment, meeting the warm, smooth skin underneath and the endearing softness of his tummy.

“I won’t be home for our first anniversary.” He said, opening his eyes and looking up at you.

“Japan, again?” You asked gently, trying to be as understanding as possible.

“New York.” He replied, huffing out a loud breath. “Two weeks.”

“Then, we’ll celebrate once you’re back. It’s not a big deal.” You concluded, moving your hand back to his shoulders, placing your thumb and forefinger on the tendons at the base of his nape and pressing down with the right amount of pressure, massaging Yoongi’s tense neck.

“Sometimes I ask myself what would happen if I had children.” He mused, joining your free hand with his, his thumb drawing gentle lines on your palm. “Would I be there the moment my woman is giving birth to our child? Or would I be on the other side of the world, too far to hold her hand, to touch her face as she goes through that kind of pain, to move her hair away from her face?”

Your hand moved to his forehead while he rolled on his back, looking at you. “Would I be able to hear her curse me, snarl at me, saying she’s not ever letting me close to her, just to forgive me as soon as she has our child in her arms?” Yoongi moved your joined hands to his lips, kissing one knuckle at a time.

“Would I be able to run the tip of my pinkie along all of my baby’s features, just to see what is mine and what is their mother’s?” He wondered quietly.

You barely held back a sob.

You had never wanted babies, but you were already seeing yourself in a hospital room, a white, soft bundle in your arms and Yoongi sitting at your side, completely charmed by the tiny human you were holding on your chest, feeding with your own breast.

“No matter where you will be, I’m sure you’ll be an excellent partner, and an excellent father.” You replied, rubbing his belly and caressing his face, catching a fugitive tear with your thumb, drawing his delicate features with the tip of your fingers.

His lovely button nose, and the fairylike arch that connected it with his brow. His eyebrows, his hairline. His barely-there cheekbones, and the bitable plumpness of his cheeks. His cupid bow. The minuscule mole beside his nose. His subtle eyelashes. The shape of his cute, elvish ears.

He yawned and you felt him relax completely. “We should go to bed, kitty cat.” You told him.

He nodded, but stayed still.

It took you a bit to convince him, but finally he stood up and walked to the bedroom while you switched off the lights in the living room, following him shortly after.

Once in the bedroom, you slipped under the covers, thanking the universe that you had already done your nightly routine and you were ready for bed.

Yoongi offered you his back and you spooned him, one of your arms venturing under his sleeping shirt, the other sliding under his head, pillowing it while your fingers toyed with his chocolate locks.

His hand joined yours on his belly, capturing your fingers with his. “I love you, Kitten. You already are the perfect partner.” He said, before yawning.

“I love you too, Yoongles.”

#yoongi fluff #yoongi drabble #yoongi cuddles #min yoongi #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi angst

77 notes · View notes

expired-monster-craft-smp · 4 years ago

Text

Vibes Dream SMP members give off (in my opinion)

Dream

Barked at people in high school ironically but it became unironic real quick

Can’t cook very well but is good with a knife, especially at a fast pace

One of those kids who either purposely spells the first word wrong in a spelling bee to just be done with it right away or tries the hardest and manages to win (there is no inbetween for this heathen)

Bites ice cream with his teeth

Has snorted pixie stix far too many times and sneezed blue after each time

Eats bananas with the peels

Wears mismatched socks

Has taken a bite out of a pool noodle because he liked the texture and impulsively bit it (ADHD things✨😌)

Walks around looking extremely high but he’s just spacin out and stuck in his head

Dreams (lmao) in Minecraft and video games in general

Will flirt with anything that moves but has no idea how to respond to compliments

Makes fun of himself first before anyone else can

Has eaten an orange peel and it wasn’t that bad in his humble opinion

Wears khaki shorts

Eats the wax part of the baby bell cheese

Doesn’t actually know what genre his music taste is cause he vibes to everything

Georgenotfound

Picks at the skin on his lip when it’s dry so it bleeds and he tries not to give in by licking his lips often enough to the point where it became a habit

Wears velcro shoes because he doesn’t feel like tying them (he knows how, he just doesn’t wanna do it)

Eats peanut butter straight from the jar

Makes that disgusting “ants on a log” thing (celery stick filled with peanut butter topped with a row of raisins)

Can’t drink milk plain, it’s gotta have some sort of flavour

Can draw a perfect straight line but his circles look Terrible

Eats cheez-its like cereal without milk

Loves making little noises so much like he walks around his house doin chores and he’s just goin “memememenownownwnkwkshskshkshskhs”

Hates wearing socks

Coloured his tongue with highlighters because they’re non-toxic

Constantly tapping his feet and hands to a song/beat playing in his head

I can’t imagine this man using a bike of any sort, so Imma say he doesn’t know how

Can’t be licked by dogs because he’s used to being licked by his cat so it makes him uncomfortable

Can actually sing pretty well but gets real nervous in front of people so he fucks it up

Sapnap

No idea how to cook anything other than Mac and cheese please help this man

Meows at cats because he wants to confuse them and laughs Way too hard when he does (his laugh is like sunshine so I’ll allow it)

Would be fantastic at braiding hair Idk why

Gives the BEST fuckin hugs EVER

When singing, he makes noises for the instrumental parts too

Wanted to play the drums at one point

Really likes pit bulls but he’s more of a cat person so he loves them from afar

Only vaguely knows how to shave his face properly without hurting himself

Opportunities for him come up out of pure luck but mans is skilled for them so it works out well almost Always

Used to or currently has a skateboard and isn’t too bad

ALWAYS has bruises appearing everywhere for no reason, he doesn’t even know where 90% of them are from

Calls his friends twinks to jokingly bully them and gets away with it because he himself is not a twink

Gets sudden bursts of energy in the middle of the night and just shimmies around a bit to try and deal with it

Favours spearmint over peppermint

Arsonist

Banned from three (3) Dave & Busters in Texas

Badboyhalo

Washes his hands after doing literally anything

Likes the bird exhibits at the zoo (specifically the penguins)

Very good at cooking, best at soups and stews

If he painted his nails they would definitely be a baby blue

Overthinks very simple things and it makes him look less smart than he actually is

Drinks tap water

Probably prefers whiskey over beer

Knows how to tap dance a bit

Surprisingly good at taking and handling shots

Steady hands

Adds extra chocolate to hot chocolate

Plays sudoku and is really really good at it (only uses pen when he plays)

Everytime he sees a Himalayan salt lamp he NEEDS to lick it despite knowing it’s very salty and he’ll pull a face afterwards

Not great at Rock Paper Scissors

Wears sunglasses inside for no reason at all, he just,,,Does

Still has a stuffed animal from childhood perched on his bed

Probably tried his hand at archery

Tommyinnit

He has no idea how to use a baby voice on children or animals, so he just talks to them normally

Wears socks to bed

His fingers are double jointed

Always starts twitching if he stays still for too long because he’s gotta move around

His shoes and have different laces and it bothers everyone but himself

Doodles on himself in class when he’s bored or not paying attention

Has really good hearing, both with pitch and volume

Can’t eat tomato’s by themselves, it’s either gotta be in sauce form or with something else

FUCKING LOVES STRING CHEESE

Terrible handwriting

Favourite part of a slice of bread is the crust

Wants to paint his nails black to be cool and edgy but his hands are far from steady and he has no clue how to paint nails

Pretty affectionate with close friends (like Tubbo and Wilbur) off stream/camera

He likes pears for some reason

Wilbur Soot

Is constantly having to decide between leaving his hair as is or shaving all of it off

He also thinks about adding some colour but never actually does

Most tea is gross to him

Everytime he puts a breath mint thats circular in his mouth, he pretends it’s a pill and he’s taking drugs because he thinks that’s funny

He does that vacant state as a joke but that really what he looks like when he’s spacing out

Likes to aggressively flirt with his male friends but if his female friends flirt with him, he gets a bit flustered

Has probably accidentally swallowed a guitar pick

Once drank two entire jars of pickle juice

Bonks his head on anything and everything

He has broken a pair of glasses by walking face first into a pole outside

Thinks kinetic sand is fun

Has passionate arguments with others about trivial and random topics like chicken feet

Can open a beer bottle with his teeth

Would accidentally pop and swallow a bracket if he had braces

Tubbo

Hates sharp cheddar cheese

Everytime he learns a new word it’s in every sentence he says for the next week or so

Ate candle wax for a dare once

Doesn’t know how to tie a tie and will probably never learn

Wanted to do ballet at one point but decided not to

He has eaten multiple flowers for absolutely no reason other than wanting to know how they taste

Starts vibrating if he’s too excited

Used to bite his nails

ABSOLUTELY DESPISES MUSTARD

Has eaten paper and says it doesn’t taste that bad

Enjoys telling his friends how much they mean to him (this has resulted in Tommy and Wilbur crying on a few seperate occasions)

Spaces out a lot and doesn’t often pay attention to his surroundings

Gets lost inside of Best Buy’s

Likes s’mores but doesn’t properly understand how to make them

Technoblade

Learned to cook purely out of spite and found it’s actually pretty fun

Constantly getting smacked in the face by trees when walking outside

Really likes apple pie

Everytime he looks at potatoes he thinks of all the hours he spent trying to win the potato war

Starts things as a joke and gets too into it

Doesn’t like the taste of most energy drinks

Has rubbed salt and lemon juice into an open wound to just,,see how it felt (he did it once and Hated it but did it again because he forgot what it felt like)

Sometimes hates how quiet he is because everyone he knows is loud and talks over him

Despite how he is portrayed in the Dream SMP, he is extremely loyal to his friends and would kill for them

Over seasons his food because he can’t taste it otherwise

Really good balance

Doesn’t like to wear bright colours, but still enjoys wearing colours

Good at knitting

Quackity

Actually fairly quiet when off camera

Will accidentally use Spanish grammar while speaking English sometimes

Country music confuses him

Doesn’t really like kids but they really like him

Can’t dance

Hardest drugs he’s ever done is second hand smoke from a cigarette and children’s Tylenol

His favourite jolly ranchers are the red and blue ones

He uses lighters as fidget toys basically

Will have a breakdown, take a bubble bath, and call himself the self care king

Dehydrated

Wants a pet rat but he already has a cat and doesn’t wanna risk anything

Constantly questions why his main source of income is playing Minecraft with two 16 year olds

Karl Jacobs

Probably ate a spider once

Would wear those socks that are like gloves for you feet where it separates all the toes

Eats ravioli straight from the can, cold

Can answer an incredibly complex math equation fairly easily but will stumble over 12x11

Loves kids so much and speaks to them in a soft voice

Tried making ramen in a coffee pot and broke it

Drinks 2 monster energy drinks a day on average

Likes to open walnuts with his teeth but doesn’t actually eat them

The embodiment of that one John Maulany joke where he says you could spill soup in his lap and HE’D apologize to YOU

Loves physical affection so so much!!!!

If he moves his wrists in a certain way, they pop Really Loudly

Fantastic at making cookies

Fundy

Lowkey actually a furry but more on like, a cat boy level than fursuit level

Drives a Honda Civic

Likes ABBA

Adds parsley to almost anything he makes food-wise

Loves garlic bread so much, he’d commit a federal crime for it

Middle child vibes

Decent at skiing

Good at singing but isn’t terribly confident

Seems responsible at first glance but in reality he’s pretty chaotic and childish

Bad at spelling

Always cuts his nails way too short so they always feel weird/hurt

Likes bracelets and rings

Thinks pastel colours slap

JSchlatt

Despite the character he plays, he’s actually really sweet

He’s genuinely that cryptic off camera as he is on camera

Can cook but chooses not to most of the time

Would probably say “what pussy size you wear” to anyone who asks him to buy pads

Not actually as intimidating as he appears to be

Lowkey would fight a child

Shuts down when someone compliments him, often using aggression as a front because holy shit they just called him handsome and kind what the Fuck-

Jokingly says his license is suspended but in all actuality he never got his license in the first place

He has two (2) extra teeth but they don’t need to be removed so he kept them

Has a stick n poke of a stickman on his ankle he got in high school

Likes physics

This is already very long, and I still plan on adding more.

75 notes · View notes

cotncandyboifics · 4 years ago

Text

The Bidding of the Prince Twins: Chapter 1

AO3 Link

Masterpost

Chapter 2 ~

Pairings: (vague/qpr) Loceit, eventual Analoceit

Word count: 2,977

Story summary: Virgil finds himself being held hostage in an unknown location. His two suspected captors seem to care for him more than any strangers should, especially strangers who kidnapped him. But were they really the ones who kidnapped him? That aside, Virgil also can't shake the feeling that there's something familiar about them. He just can't pin-point what it is. As time passes, the layers of lies the three of them are caught in are gradually peeled away, one by one.

General CW: U!Roman, U!Remus, food, kidnapping, implied Stockholm Syndrome, moderate to severe amnesia, swearing, sexual innuendos, graphic descriptions of gore/violence/scarring, minor character d-aths, anxiety attacks, panic attacks, non-graphic descriptions of needles (will be added to as I write more)

Chapter CW: food mentioned, minor amnesia, kidnapping hostage, swearing, non-graphic description of anxiety attack, non-graphic description of a needle (let me know if i missed anything please!)

Author Notes: <none>

...

Virgil winced, squinting sharply as a blinding white light was trained on his face. A giant light getting forced into someone's face would be jarring under any circumstances, but it was especially so considering he had previously been engulfed in an almost equally jarring darkness. He'd also just awoken from an unexpected stint of disorienting unconsciousness.

He felt a presence behind the light, and the edges of hair tufts caught bits of light from behind the cone of death that was focused on him. The figure was clearly tall, and though Virgil was seated, he could easily tell that if he weren't, this person would probably be a head taller than him at the very least. He tried to twist his wrists in the several zip-ties that had them bound together behind his back, as well as to a rod running up the center of the back of his chair. He clenched his jaw, looking down as the light sent a shock-wave of pain through his eyes.

"Virgil Black." A stern monotone voice came from where he'd seen the shiny bits of hair before. It's familiarity wasn't striking, but it had a relatively calming effect on Virgil's nerves, so his mind didn't feel the need to follow that train of thought.

"That's me, man," He tried, voice coming out slightly hoarse. "Mind explaining why the fuck you've got me tied up in this interrogation basement? Last I checked I'm not involved in any CIA bullshit," He sneered. Suddenly, he heard the sound of someone pushing a chair out and standing sounded somewhere to his right, behind the first figure. Someone else was there too. A step or two sounded as the second entity vaguely came toward Virgil. Great, two assholes to shake off.

"Very funny." A deeper voice came, much snarkier than the first. Virgil felt his spine tingle. This voice was oddly familiar as well, but he was still too out of sorts to try and figure out why.

"I apologize for the unsavory conditions, but it is imperative that our identities be kept classified for the time being. All we need is a minute amount of information, and we will be on our way." The first voice again. A very small clacking sound of plastic came from near the figure's face.

"Imperative to what?" Virgil hissed between clenched teeth, looking back up at the mysterious person. This time, he was able to pick out another feature; the light also caught what appeared to be the rim and lens of a pair of square prescription glasses. That explained the plastic clacking, he guessed. Virgil doubted they could be any other sort of glasses; it's possible that this person was a constantly-wearing-sunglasses type, but based on his brief time interacting with them, Virgil didn't really buy that. As well, some part of his intuition told him they were most certainly prescription, the same part that had noted the familiarity of both voices.

"That will also have to remain classified for now. But enough." The voice grew firm. Virgil tried to keep himself from swallowing audibly. "What are the most recent events that you remember, Virgil?"

He tried to think. "Well it's awful hard to recall anything with that giant light in my face, so can I have a minute to think? On top of that my memory is shit anyway because of my anxiety. Is that cool with you, thing 1 and thing 2?" A scoff came from Thing 2, seemingly off in the corner. Virgil hoped the half-hearted remark would keep them entertained as he tried twisting his ankles. They were tightly and securely duct taped to the legs of his chair, which was slowly cutting off his circulation. He felt his toes starting to grow cold and tingly. That meant he'd only been secured like this for a short amount of time, a couple minutes at most.

"By all means. Take your time." Still the first figure's voice, dripping with sincerity. Virgil detected what seemed to be a hint of remorse in their voice, as if they genuinely felt sorry, or at least uncomfortable with what they were doing. Virgil wondered why the second person was so evasive. He figured he'd try to provoke them into speaking again soon.

But for now, he had to think. What was the last thing he remembered? Before a throbbing headache, before the pitch black, before the sound of heavy rusty doors whining open and closed, and two sets of footsteps approaching him. He hadn't really registered them at the time; he'd been too disoriented, he guessed from some sort of anesthetic.

He tried to think back further. He pulled basic facts from his mind, hoping to jog his memory. He lived in New York, in a one-bedroom apartment with his roommate and best friend Patton. They'd fit two twin beds in their little bedroom. They were both Seniors at NYU. That started things off, at least. He spent a lingering moment recalling the cat they both took care of together. Her name was Natalie, and she was pitch black, each and every hair on her body a rich raven shade.

He knew Patton had planned to have a little get-together with some Psych major friends he had, and encouraged Virgil to bring some of his Techie buddies. They'd gone shopping for snacks last night.

He figured he'd start with that.

"Well, I remember Tuesday night for sure. Me and my roommate went grocery shopping. Getting snacks for a little get-together we were having. Not my idea, of course. I'm not a huge fan of parties, or-"

"We asked for your most recent memories, not your life story," drawled the second voice. Virgil smirked behind his bangs. "Will you get on with it already? Unless Tuesday night is really your most recent memory."

"As much as your- contributions - are appreciated, J, I am conducting this interrogation, and I'd prefer if you'd keep your snide comments to yourself for at least the first session," The first voice came again, hushed and sounding strained. Virgil clung to what little information he got from the comment. The second voice belonged to someone who could be identified as "J" apparently, and this was the first... session? Virgil had to set his mental notes aside for the time being though, since he had evidently not yet produced an adequate response. "My apologies, Virgil. My colleague is... rather, anxious, to... move things along. You may continue."

"No sweat. Sounds like J just needs a bit of a chill pill." Virgil smirked in the general direction he'd heard J's voice coming from. He was met with an almost disturbing silence. As expected. "Anyway. I remember shopping, and heading home, and... eventually sleeping. Ah, I guess I woke up a little late Wednesday morning, because I was rushing around and shit. My roommate looked kinda worried about it, but that's just how he is." Virgil paused for a moment. He wondered if these two mysterious figures knew about Patton and NYU and where he lived and everything, and considering he knew nothing about them or what they wanted from him, he wouldn't have been surprised. Regardless, he figured it would be best to keep things as anonymous as possible for the time being. "...Hmm. Then I think I rushed onto the bus. I think I caught it just before it was leaving. I got to, where I was going, and did what I was meaning to do, and then... I guess I headed home? I remember the thing I had to do, and finishing it, but... after that things get kinda foggy. I dunno." He paused again. A beat of silence. "Then again, I'll probably remember more in a few minutes. Especially if I'm not being literally slowly blinded." He finished, looking up at the figure behind the light with as large eyes as he could manage. The figure cleared their throat.

"Thank you Virgil. As well, there is no need for anonymity. We are fully aware of your roommate Patton, and the Economics lecture you nearly missed on Wednesday. However, your attempt at omission was... if nothing else, entertaining." Virgil scoffed under his breath. Even if his anxiety had predicted this just moments before, he was getting really freaked out now. It's never the same at all, imagining worst case scenarios and actually living them. The initial shock of this whole situation was wearing off, giving way to panic.

"At this time, in return all I can offer you is this. You are aware of the second man in your presence, I'm sure. For now you will know him as J, as you clearly caught on to rather quickly."

"He loves the witty ones," J's voice came this time directly from Virgil's left, and much closer than before. It took all of Virgil's self control not to flinch away. "So you'll entertain him well. He's L, by the way."

L cleared his throat. "Yes, thank you J. I shall be addressed as L. You will likely only see both of us at once. Perhaps on rare occasions we will each come in alone, but J and I are partnered, so that would likely do little more than impair our... performance."

"Partnered? Performance? What am I, a high school science project?" Virgil snickered bitterly. "My wrists are starting to hurt pretty fucking bad. This is pretty sketchy, L. I didn't fucking do anything wrong. Why am I here?" Virgil tried not to let the shrill breathiness overtake his voice too much, but the anxiety rising in his chest was far from merciful. He tried to calm himself internally, but that wasn't exactly working out.

"I can understand your frustrations," L replied, and the glint of his glasses shifted, the small plastic clacking sound coming again with it. Virgil realized it was just L adjusting his glasses, likely out of habit. "But, for your safety, I cannot give you a direct answer to any of those questions yet. Ah, except; no, you are not a high school science project." Virgil could practically taste the smirk on L's face. He wanted to spit at him. He wanted to tear himself out of the fucking zip ties and duct tape. He felt his heart pounding in his chest.

"Listen, I get that you two are having a jolly good time fucking me up, but I'm," Virgil struggled, each word becoming harder to force out of his trembling mouth, "I'm kinda freaking out here." He hated the way his voice cracked then.

Virgil could see the glint of L's glasses shifting again, the tall man turning to look at his sarcastic counterpart. A short nod, and with a small clicking sound, the light was shut off.

Somehow, the room seemed darker than it had before. The change was so disorienting that Virgil couldn't pinpoint just where the sounds of shuffling of feet around him were coming from or going. No screeching metal door sounds came though, so he knew J and L had to be in the room with him still. His breathing was becoming very labored, and it overwhelmed him as the only sound he could hear. God, how he hated anxiety attacks.

"Virgil." J's voice came from directly in front of him - J was likely crouched to be on Virgil's level - and it was uncharacteristically silky smooth. He flinched that time, but was able to keep himself from hissing. He was only sure it was J's because of its specific inflections; there was no way this could be L, and there was certainly no fourth person in the room (he hoped). "I understand you are very disoriented right now, but the last thing we want to do is cause you an anxiety attack. My sincerest apologies for triggering the beginning of one. That aside, I need you to focus on your breathing. Nothing but your breaths and the sound of my voice."

His voice felt like butter melting, gliding across a hot pan and leaving a silky trail. Or maybe like warm honey running down flushed skin. Virgil was captivated, and thank fuck, because if it weren't for Fuck Face #2 over here, he doubted he would have been able to get out of this one so easily. So he focused, focused hard on the labored breaths he was huffing.

"Now, I need you to try to slow down. Just a little bit. Slow down for me. Feel the air filling and retreating in your lungs. Let it stay a little longer. Then, let it leave in a gentle skip instead of a frantic sprint." God, if Virgil wasn't Fucking Freaking Out right now, he'd probably be trying to flirt with Mr. Butter-tongue, considering the shivers going up his spine weren't only thanks to his panic disorder.

Gradually, he managed to slow down. It wasn't a straight path, but eventually he got there. J continued cooing sweet nothings to him as he came down before any sort of climax. He thanked the darkness for hiding his horridly hot face from his captors. He heard a slight creasing of fabric.

"All better?" J's smile was practically visible with the way he almost sweetly sneered those words. His voice came from higher up, so Virgil knew he must've stood once again. He just scoffed in a half-assed cover up.

"Sure, Fuck Face Number two." He tried rocking himself side to side in his chair, but it seemed to be attached to the floor. He groaned.

J tsked a few times. "Is that any way to talk to someone who just kept you from what would surely have been a horridly exhausting anxiety attack? Honestly. You ought to be more grateful, Virgil." Virgil was beginning to passionately hate the way J talked; so sassy and drawly, as if he thought he was some serious hot stuff. Virgil wanted to smack him something awful.

He heard soft receding footsteps, feeling J's presence recoil.

"So how does this work? Is someone gonna have to whip out my dick for me when I have to pee?" Virgil prodded at the void around him.

"Very funny, Virgil. No, you will soon be... enlightened, regarding your temporary living situation, so to speak." L's voice came again, finally, from slightly to the right. It was a lot less variant in tone than J's, and Virgil greatly appreciated the constancy.

He couldn't respond soon enough; he felt something pierce his skin on his left outer thigh. Warm breath teasing at skin behind his left ear was the last thing he remembered. "Go to sleep, V. We'll see you again very soon."

"Night night, J," He whispered, before the lights really went out.

...

Logan sighed, shrugging off his navy pinstriped suit jacket as he shut the door behind him. He held it by the collar in one hand, turning to survey the disheveled mess that the observation room had become over such a short period of time.

Piles and piles of paper were stacked high on the wall-to-wall desk, and stacked higher on the floor. The interrogation light - just an industrial Flashlight with a cone of metal wrapped around it's end to amplify it - had been discarded lazily in one corner. Janus was seated at said desk, slouched over himself on a fold-out metal chair, resting his chin on his palm as he looked out through the false mirror at a peacefully sleeping Virgil.

His hat was resting on a corner of the back of his chair, along with his gold-encrusted swallowtail coat. He looked a bit of a mess. His hair was fraying and splaying everywhere. His eyes looked tired, even if Logan could only see his one blind eye from this angle. The jagged scars that crept up his neck and covered the side of his face seemed paler than usual.

"Are you okay, Janus?" Logan inquired as neutrally as he could manage, sitting beside his friend.

Janus merely side-eyed Logan, in his all-knowing way. "I think you and I both know the answer to that question."

"Look, I know this method is-- well, disconcerting," Logan's words rushed out of his mouth as if they were being chased, "but we do not have another choice right now. We will get this over with soon... we will find a way to get through this." Logan cleared his throat and fidgeted with his tie. Janus considered rolling his eyes and responding snidely, but he knew Logan wasn't taking kindly to these new... circumstances either.

"We will." He settled on an attempt to be reassuring. Janus had always been good at that, or at least he'd been told so. He only wished it worked on himself too, especially now. Logan offered a small smile.

A long silence overtook them. They both simply sat side by side and observed their unconscious hostage. He was sprawled rather inelegantly across a deep grey satin bed, one arm wrapped in a death grip around a plush pillow. His leg stuck out haphazardly over the edge of the bed, and his hair was in worse shape than Janus' - which was saying something, since Janus' hair was notoriously wavy and curly and constantly out of sorts, while Virgil's was just straight. His mouth was slacked open, but he didn't snore. His eyebags were somehow visible under his black eyeshadow.

Logan broke the silence first. This normally would have dismayed Janus, but again, these were... unusual circumstances. "Well, he seems figuratively out cold for the time being. Shall we seek out some sustenance?" Logan shrugged his suit jacket back on. Janus didn't move a muscle.

"I'm not hungry right now. You go ahead, I'll make sure he doesn't wake up and start tearing out his hair or something." Janus' somber tone stole his voice's usual sarcasm. Logan rested a hand on his shoulder with a great softness.

"I'll grab you a little something. Try not to stress yourself out too much." With that, Logan set a water bottle on the desk beside Janus' elbow and left in near silence.

Janus heard a faint receding clicking as Logan walked away down the hall.

19 notes · View notes

daughterofhel · 3 years ago

Text

My icon died last night.

The little black and white cat, Auk (or-ick). A silly name from a badly remembered name from my childhood.

He was pretty much deaf; car got him.

I haven’t seen him since I left Texas, as I moved for a year to VA before finally moving to be with my wife in Vento. One of my guy friends family took him in on their ranch.

It was fitting; I did get Auk from a ranch. He was used to it, loved it even. And this was without the competition of an unhealthy amount of breeding stays like the ones I grabbed him and Ivy up from. I could only take two, my friend the same.

Funny. I had originally gone there to see the birth of a colt only to leave with a cat. Return the next day and get one more, a friend for my tiny runt of a thing.

And who should but all demand it be him to leave with me but Auk? The friendliest of cats that I’ve ever had the pleasure to be around. He also thwarted my attempts at having two girl cats. He was insistent to leave with me and you don’t argue when you’re chosen you know?

I won’t detail the tears following or the rough road and chaos that went on, but many double shifts back to back to back endlessly, a medicated clumsy grandmother with rapidly failing health, and complex roommate situations, I just wasn’t able to provide the needed time and care for my cats.

I cried the entire 45 minute drive to my buddys property when he said he could take them in. I had to pull over twice. They also cried the entire time, being afraid of the car, which made it harder. My buddy, He was the same guy who rescued a big pup clearly abandoned some years back. I had helped train him to not jump on people and other stuff. His folks also owned a longhorn ranch, lots and lots of space.

Those cats deserved better and this was a familiar element, now neutered, vaccinated, and with no stray competition and the dog was so careful. But god. I never wanted to say goodbye to my cats. It didn’t matter though, what I wanted; they needed care and time I wasn’t able to keep providing.

So I dropped them off. As expected, Ivy kept close but never got too close to the family. She simply doesn’t trust; I’ve no idea why such a little thing bonded instantly with me and remained quite the fixed cuddle bug. But she had. I felt worse about it with her than Auk if I’m to be honest.

Auk loved attention. Loved fetch. Belly rubs. This cat was a classic dog and a huge whore for attention. XD He essentially made himself at home and lavished any and all attention, to which my buddies mother instantly fell for this fuzzy dorks charms. He has been well cared for.

I know younger me could’ve and should’ve done better when I got these cats. Mind you, I’ve been gone for over 10 years now, so it has been quite some time. I’m doing what I wish I could have done for my cats then with the two rescues we got last year here.

I was young and working so many hours for nearly no profit after stuff was paid, even living at home and with roommates. I couldn’t afford the extra vet fees I needed or the fanciest of foods or any of that. I loved them, and I felt them being with me instead of the half starving state they were in from constantly competing with so many other cats, was still a better option for them. I still was at least able to do some of the important visits for them.

I cleared their fleas and earmites. I never did get rid of Ivys worms, though I desperately tried. I tried so many ways to get this pill into that cat. Even crushed into wet food. Friends helping to wrap and hold her to make her swallow. All the tricks we found, failed. She just. She wouldn’t take it. And I didn’t have the cash to go every single day and time she needed a dose to a pet clinic. I had checked more than once. It was so much money.

Older, better situated now.. I’ve been able to do right by the cats, Nyx and Tivali, that I have now.

We even saved Nyx’s eye. We have a system to give her her seizure medicine every 12 hours. They’re both fully up to date with their shots and are fixed. Ears totally clean. Monthly newly added anti flea tick collars.

The best food we can reasonably find at the local pet shop; their pelts are beautiful, soft, shiny, and they never smell.

We’ve even found a biodegradable corn based litter we can flush which has been the greatest find.

We get semi regular check ups on our girls and they’re doing just fine now. I’m still proud about saving Nyx’s eye. It was a tedious ordeal. 3-4 times a day we had to clean and medicate a cats eye. We got good at it even if she wasn’t fond of it. Thankfully the vitamins they required were like treats. Even the antibiotics from the colds they had from the shelter.

I miss Auk. And Ivy. And I wish I could’ve not only given them the life I’ve given my current cats now, (I’ve constructed basket beds, hammocks, a whole canopy jungle gym and rope bridge to boot for them with my wife!), but I wish I could have been the one to have them in my life still. I know it was not possible. It wouldn’t have been possible.

But I think of them. A lot. And I knew it was inevitable. Auk would’ve been well over 13 or so years by now. A little old but could’ve lived longer yet for sure. My buddy didn’t mention he has gone deaf. Of course he rarely goes home himself; I don’t blame him. Life’s complicated.

I have mourned these two cats multiple times now. So I’m not thrown into tears upon this news, I’ve cried plenty over the years already. But I’m still sad to hear that fuzzy delight has passed on. I won’t ask, but I hope, and believe, the accident was a quick end for such a friendly guy.

I’ll mourn him eventually in full. I know I will. But considering this is the fourth major bad news I’ve gotten in less than a month and most of it a week, I thought to write about it. If only to keep sane.

May I not receive the same news of my grandmother or my sister who both remain in the hospital.

And god. May my mother stop forcing me to recall and talk about our shared trauma under my father and just keep me up to date on my families health. I don’t want to be crushed under this suffocating vice on my neck that makes me hesitate to call and see my family. I know she needs to vent. And god. I try to let her. I do. I try to be kind; she needs it.

But it isn’t the time and place when I’m trying to figure out if my grandmother is dying or getting better. I shouldn’t have to receive that confirmation, be granted a brief video called hello and check in, with the price of an hour long dredge through a past I personally have gone to two different types of therapy through to try and cope with. Which, only to some degree, have helped.

One of the last longer calls we had she all but said she hoped her theories on my father possible molesting me were true, so, you know, that would be one more trauma we had in common. She went on and on, even trying to provide loose evidence to her theory. Troubling sentences I would say in my rare visits. Etc. She just. Wouldn’t. Stop. And that was after an hour of recalling how terrible her life was with my father and the abuse, the screaming, the terror, the hiding, the injuries, all of it. As if I wasn’t left to live my life with this very man she said her three years with ruined her more than all her past shit combined.

She assured me she was a good mother who tried. And honestly. No. But I do believe she tried. But she was already weak emotionally and mentally and my father wrecked what was left. She left me sometimes for a couple days lock in that house when I was in diapers. You don’t forget that shit. I’m still scared of the dark. I can’t reason with myself on it. But being mad about all of it doesn’t change anything and would hurt a woman already broken. Why would I do that.

Still. It bothers me. So fucking much. But she’s such a fragile person in a fragile emotional state with everything else on top. She’s been heavily depressed for many many years and it’s a bunch of other stuff that spirals and honestly, at this point, she’s toxic even to herself. I’ve tried working on it with her but it matters not if she’s not willing to work on it too. I don’t know my mother besides her many traumas. We’ve been separated and estranged for most of my life. Unless I was physically able to actually be there and provide a use.

But that’s par for the course; no one will have you around if you’re unable to provide something for it. My wife’s the first person who genuinely seems to enjoy having me around just because and wants nothing more. I do stuff of course; but with her I am not afraid a slip up could mean everything it taken away and lost. I can forget the dishes once or had a bad mental health day and stay in bed without it having catastrophic consequences. She’s such a wonderful kind woman; I cannot help stressing over how to repay her.

I try and I’ve expressed my distraught on the topic and though she always seems baffled and confused about my insistence that I should be doing far more, that lass doesn’t agree at all. It’s her parents home so I am not able to freely run the house as I would on our own, as I’m able and have in many places, so I’m often less useful with the restrictions. She’s also use to the flow and swing of things and has things half done before it’s being asked.

Our own place will make life smoother and calmer for both of us; most importantly her. I’ve watched this family, sweet, but absolutely tone deaf to how many and often their demands are tossed to her. All the other kids moved out with partners. Hell, the oldest s child basically lives here. Our own hurdle with raising a kid who we don’t have the final say on any single thing. His grandparents are enablers cuz they don’t want to hear any loud noises, no matter what. And that causes strain when the kid can and does get anything and everything as long as he kicks up a fit. And he sure as hell does. There are days it’s so bad my wife’s in tears. And that pisses me off. The kids a good person, but the fact no one will actually parent and draw definite lines and be firm with No’s can also make him horrible too.

I’ve to deal with the chess match that is my father. I often call him my own personal Devil. He kind of is. But one I’m familiar enough with at this point in my life. I know where and when to cut my losses, where to step around, when I need to swallow my pride or the easily seen through lies, and nod my head. If he was all terrible, I could have cut him from my life. But no one ever really is. And I do know I owe it to the man; he has helped tremendously in my life as much as he’s been a big problem of it. I know his biggest fear is to be alone and forgotten. I wouldn’t do that, not even to the devil.

I need some bland news. Not thrilling. Not depressing. Just some ‘hey that happened’ ‘oh cool.’ Kind of news. Just a small reprieve.

Im. Scared. Of what’s next.

I. Know that things are teetering dangerously into a very very tragic terrible story on my mothers end. I know her husbands already super suicidal. My half brothers severely autistic, non verbal, among a few other things and will require his whole life to have someone be there for him. He’s not stupid, and I hate when people treat him as so, but he is absolutely unable to care for himself. He doesn’t have the right motorskills even, though we’ve gone to many different places to try and help him find ways to do actions in his own way that still get the same result. I admire how he’s such a positive little man, generally not just happy, but delighted. I aspire to look at the world like he does. He reminds me to try. I do love that about him.

He is, however, a Big boy, 15 now, and growing. He’s also very strong now. My mother is getting to an age where his, as well call em happy slaps, are really hurting her. He is generally good about slapping your hands and not your back if you provide them. But when he is upset he is a shover; one bad fall could really cause a lot of chaos for my mother with her health. The husband spends most of his time locked in his room.

My half sister is epileptic. They have done tests for years and can’t figure out all her triggers or the whys. They just sometimes stop for a long time then suddenly happen. She’s 16, turning 17 soon. And I don’t even know if she’s going to be, since my mother won’t let me know. And there are large gaps from my sister being on tech due to concerns of what triggered her seizure this time so she’s often removed from electronic devices for a time.

When I had turned 21, my mother and her husband tried to have me sign a paper to become legal guardian of my half siblings, should something happen to them, so the kids didn’t get separated.

At that time, I was still taking care of my fathers mother along with working at a shit job, and had a house full of temporary roommates who I had offered rooms to as a sort of safe house for them. I have a knack for finding people from broken homes, what can I say? With the house my father and I built, we had space, so I used it. I was able to help the girls get out of toxic places, get on their feet, and move on. Not all of them always. But it did generally work out. One has a boyfriend who was growing worse to her on top of getting more and more into hard drugs while also she dealing with an abusive aunt who got worse once her mother died of cancer. So she was stuck with the terrible boyfriend. I had her stay with me as soon as I heard.

Another was complicated, but generally revolved around the alcoholic mother and the many, shady, men in and out of the house. The dangers of that alone were.. problematic without the friend also being suicidal and not taken seriously. I’ve stayed many times with her to just hang out, clean, cook, or even read a book cuz she just wanted to hear someone talking and such. You know? Until eventually I had her move in with me too.

Another’s mothers died of a cancer and dad an alcoholic; not abusive, he just became childlike and super forgetful. To a hurtful degree in his totally dependent state, whenever he was home. Plus their whole little trailer smelled of piss. And her boyfriend (they’re married with kids and happy now) was in jail. He had a bad past but had cleaned up his act quite well, but. Well that’s complicated. We all know that the police don’t squint at details of any issue if the accused has a problematic past.

I had two different girls with trouble at home who were being used by their family to constantly work, clean, and pay for everything.

I had an ex and her girlfriend with problematic homophobic parents who were terrible and semi violent so I had them stay with us so they could be together somewhere safer.

I did not. At all. Have the assured means to also be a parent of ten children with very different needs nor any medical benefits to help out with.

I also knew, that, with how my mothers husband was, if he had some guarantees for his children’s safety, he would likely end his life if he could. He’s been so close so many times. If signed this paper, he would have the last big most important concern that’s kept him from.. I just. I didn’t want him to do it. I selfishly didn’t want to be responsible for my siblings that would take away any bit of time I had for myself away. If anything happened, I would not abandon and forget my siblings. That’s absurd. But my mother implied heavily she wanted to be sure of that. And thus this paper.

I was struggling to find aid for college so I could go to school (never got to, by the way. Minus two classes in total. Aced them both, but it doesn’t matter. Credits in the wind). I was already dealing with my grandmother. The girls I chose to help. My shit job. My fathers temper and his horrible horrible ‘on again off again’ girlfriend. The chaos that alone committed.

I was busy providing a safe space in my home and making sure it stayed that way for the rare times trouble makers made the mistake of stepping up to my door to try and harass my girls.

I often worked 10 days in a row before a day off. Many of those days often had double shifts which were 16 hours. Sometimes I got an hour nap on the double shifts.

I just couldn’t do it.

And now. I remember something that came to mind back then that comes back to mind now. My moms husband adores my grandma. She’s been better to him than his own mother. She’s dying. He’s not taking it well and his mental health has always been pretty low and in the last couple years, already dangerously rock bottom. I’ll admit, same.

His daughter is now in the hospital. My brother is smart but there are some things we can’t really explain for him to get. He understands something is wrong but not sure what and it upsets him. He doesn’t like change and gets super fussy for it. Which can be taxing and hours and days and weeks of it. Grandmas been in the hospital for a couple more or more now. She coded a few days ago but they got her back.

If grandma dies. If something happens to my sister…

God. I don’t see that man sticking around.

And with my mom isolated. A lot of it her doing with her own family but also a good part of it being dumb petty bs of other folks that have no reason to behave like that (a whole drama I don’t have the energy to keep up with..). I just.

I see it as a domino effect of terrible terrible events I don’t want to write.

My mothers side im not very close to. I don’t blame my cousins, we were kids ajd our meetings were brief as they were. But the adults kept their distance with me. No one expected me to survive and decided it was easier to not get attached. To not get involved with me, and by extension, the devil himself, my father. So I never got the chance to know that family. Even when I tried.

So the only family I do have some ties to ajd know, is in a hospital bed, or on my dads side, and they’re dying to. And I get it… that at a certain age in life, many of the people around you start to. It’s just life. Ajd it sucks. And I miss having a best friend. I miss having friends who just seem to like to have me around. Want to have me around.

And I wonder if the friends I thought I made with my roommates were just because I provided something for them. Sure we laughed a lot, we cried over shared traumas, celebrated holidays together so as to not be alone.

But not a one speaks to me now. And hey. That’s also life. But it makes me feel pretty shitty; every where I look in the past, I can’t see any relationship, family, partner, friendship, that ever had me around unless I was providing services they wanted and needed. And I don’t mean the natural give and take.

I’m aware that I’m not the friend folks have around. I’m a fun distraction at best and have been told and reminded as such. I feel like shit cuz my wife’s wonderful and the best person in my life, and yet I still mourn having close friends to hang with. I miss gaming together the most. Or the bullshitting. Sharing food.

I’m not a nice person. I’m working on it. I am. I’ve also, for years, been working on my own personal problems so as to not bring them into even conversations. I don’t know what I am doing wrong but I just.. can’t seem to keep anyone around. And frankly.

I find myself crying about it a lot with no idea what to do.

And. I’m burnt out.

I don’t want to make friends anymore. And yet I still crave it. Which sucks. I can’t stop seeming to want that. And I keep trying. And trying.

I’m trying to accept and be happy with any bit of time I get from the few friends who talk to me. I try to take my chances where I can to hang out (online, as they’re all distance by now), cuz I know it’s a short window and I’ll be lucky to get a next time in the near future.

Online is harder to provide a use, and once the ‘honeymoon phase’ of the friendship winds down, some drop off the map entirely. A few abruptly. And I just. That’s fucked me ho a ton. I can’t even express how many hours I stay sitting. Thinking. Unable to understand what I am not doing or what I am.

It’s a pity party. I know. But it’s fine. I’m still the only one at it and though I’m quite forward even with nerves eating away at me, I still just don’t know how to keep anyone in my life.

It’s taken almost 6 years for me to relax enough to believe my wife will, in fact, stick around.

But at this point in time, I’ve realized, on a note I just keep getting really sad over, that the bits of friendship I’ll get to experience with people, will be brief, snippets, and frankly, only if I am providing something they’re not getting.

I’m essentially the magazine next to the toilet when you have a bad bad stomach bug and your phones dead.

Man’s that’s.. probably my own doing. I know I’m a lot of woe is me in here. And it’s a post talking to me, so I’m indulging in it. I absolutely can’t out loud or in life. I’m working on just.. trying to feel instead of ignoring it. Per my therapists suggestions. So I feel fucking overwhelmed, sad, and alone. Isolated. Heavily.

Ignorance is bliss for real. I wish I wasn’t so aware that I was the friend you go to when all options are down and you’re bored. When you are in a bind and need a safe spot (I don’t mind that one but it does suck that it’s the only time some folks pop back in or up). That if I’m not working then no one even has a small little want to just say hi. I wish I had people who just wanted to say hi because they just.. missed me? I gues?

I wish I knew how to be better as a person and a friend. I thought I was making strides on that. I really had. And yet.

Here I am. Just.

Bitching to the void. Becuase my wife doesn’t need me to add more to her life with her father (finally back from the hospital after surgery) and his health concerned along with everyone else’s and the own sets of ordeals here. I don’t need her to fret over me.

She’s needed distraction and I’ve left her alone for a couple weeks now to her drawing. Probably one of the best things I did do for her was clean up a space for a literal drawing room for her. She’s happier for it. People compliment her art and she rather enjoys the well deserved attention.

I personally would love to have her around more. But I’m having a lot of bad shit days. Weeks at this point. And I’m using my energy to be useful in setting the table or doing the dishes, the cats, playing with the nephew, etc.

All I want to do is sleep.

Frankly. I’m tired of waking up.

But for her. I will.

#void screaming #ignore

3 notes · View notes

im-totally-not-an-alien · 5 years ago

Text

Final Fantasy prompts # 31

1. Sephiroth uses Cloud as a therapist.

Sephiroth going on about his life while Cloud is tied to a chair and gagged is just hilarious to me.

2. AVALANCHE, Sephiroth and the Turks are all turned back into 10 year olds and booted, (by Aerith probably) to the Pokémon world and have to survive as Pokémon trainers. The problem? They were all separated and no one has any way to contact eachother.

(Inspired by Viincentsvalentines pokemon/ff7 post. I adore Cloud having a overprotective and murderous Shinx as a starter pokemon. I also love AC Cloud with a Luxray)

(I have a set of rules I use for the pokemon AUs if you're interested)

3. Cloud is ace/aro and is just working on Fenrir, blissfully oblivious to everyone fighting over him just inside the bar.

Those who aren't fighting are fueling the fire and making the situation worse.

In short, Reno starts a shipping war with an actual war.

There is no mercy.

Featuring: people trying to flirt with Cloud only to be full-body tacked away mid conversion, Cloud shrugging everything off, Rufus being a manipulate weasel, and Cloud choosing to "Date" his motorcycle just to get people off his back. No one is respecting Clouds boundaries or sexual orientation.

4. Cloud gets thrown back in time but loses his memory. He has no idea who he is or how he got to this snowfield, luckily this energetic, spikey haired man befriends him and is dead set on showing him off to Angeal.

Genesis had to do a double take, the blond wasn't just well armed. He was practically prepared for war. A massive overly intricate sword was the mans back, his gaze was unwavering, even when faced with the three most powerful men in the world. The redhead barely had to glance at him to tell that all the materia on him was at max level, even the supports.

"Well, my dear friend," he began, turning to Angeal, "it seems your puppy has brought home a wolf."

5. Sephiroth appears to Cloud in his apartment, intending to torment him again. Cloud doesn't seem to acknowledge him, no matter what he says or does. He even grabbed his puppet by the throat and pinned him against the wall.

Nothing. Cloud just closed his eyes and began counting backwards from thirty. The former general released him and Cloud went back to making his sandwich.

The silverette was thoroughly miffed at this point and stalked Cloud throughout his apartment as he sat down the plate of food down on his table next to a glass of water. The blond then darted into the bathroom for a moment and came back with a small orange pill bottle.

Intrigued, Sephiroth watched the blond down two pills before picking up the bottle.

He looked back at his blond, quietly assessing him as he ate his sandwich.

"So. You've been hallucinating."

6. Cloud bursts into a packed SOLDIER rec room disguised as a SOLDIER 2nd and yells, "Who knew about the cat?!" Then sprints across the room and breaks through the window, leading down to the streets below.

The room erupts into chaos.

Later Yuffie pays him 2000 gil

7. Sephiroth not understanding the symptoms of a crush while Genesis tries to teach him how to flirt.

Genesis is not having a good time.

8. Cloud and Sephiroth are trapped in a small enclosed space. So there they lay, pinned by debris, pressed against eachother, and making awkward conversation cause Cloud will be damned if he let's Sephiroth go on about the whole "Sailing the cosmos" thing again.

9. Vincent and Cloud secretly sing duets together when no one is around. Poor Barret winds up listening to them sing (and dance to) "Instruments of cyanide" (DA games version) and is thoroughly shook.

On the plus side, he now knows why Valentine always carries around those small Bluetooth speakers

10. Time traveling animal version of Cloud who reverts back into a human while being petted by Sephiroth.

"....I can explain."

11. Doll AU where Jenova creates an AC Cloud doll for Sephiroth, a CC Zack doll for Angeal, and a FF7 Aerith doll for Genesis. All of the dolls are life-sized and perfect copies of the originals. The three generals didn't know what to do with them at first. Sephiroth shoved his in a closet, Angeal sat his on the couch and poked fun at the real Zack, and Genesis layed his lovely maiden in a glass coffin filled with lillies, using her as a center piece in his home decor.

It starts with Sephiroth occasionally brushing his dolls blond hair, eventually coming to brush it every night. He became obsessed with caring for the doll, until one night, while he was laying in bed pretending to be asleep in an attempt to do the real thing, his doll came to brush his hair. He remained still while the doll lovingly groomed him. Even after the doll left, Sephiroth did not sleep.

The Zack doll...was another thing entirely. Angeals things would go missing on a regular basis. His laptop, his keys, his keycard. He couldn't tell you how many times he'd been locked out of his own apartment. The weirdest time, was just ofter he had comforted Zack, telling him that he cares about him more than any doll, no matter how lifelike it is.

Angeal had night terrors for a week strait and every pair of pants he owned disappeared on the day of a military presentation he was required to attend.

Genesis's doll has full on disappeared from her case, sometimes for days at a time. The redhead is always furious, convinced someone is stealing her. He sets up cameras, but they catch nothing. One moment the doll is there, then she's gone. He always felt like he was being laughed at when this happened, on the other hand, the flowers in the case mysteriously never wilted and new materia would appear around his house sporadically. Which was weird because he was always meticulously organized regarding his materia.

Aka Eldrich Doll au horror story slowburn.

12. Sephiroth realized his puppet was growing stronger at the same rate he was growing weaker

(Not related to no. 11 unless you want it to be)

13. Sephiroth shoving a ring onto Clouds finger and proudly declaring them married.

Cloud thinks he's gone completely off his rocker.

14. Sephiroth devolving into base animal instincts to court Cloud.

Example: giving him shiney rocks and materia, blankets, and basic food and hygene products, killing people the blond hates, complimenting him on both his looks and skills, and of course, preening himself to look the absolue best for his precious.

The best part is that it actually works

15. Vincent and Cloud cuddling in Vincents coffin. Cozy.

#sephiroth #puppet cloud #cloud strife #genesis rhapsodos #angeal hewley #zack fair #aerith gainsborough #ff7 story prompts #ff7 prompts #ff7 #final fantasy 7 story prompts #final fantasy 7 #vincent valentine #Eldrich #Doll Zack hates when Angeal leaves #he also gets jealous of human Zack #number 14: one of these things is not like the others

138 notes · View notes

flybi91 · 4 years ago

Text

sick

You were sicker than you originally thought. At first it was the typical, a bit of a fever, sniffles, etc. but now you were burning up and you barely had any energy, you couldn’t do anything except go to the bathroom and get food. Your throat hurt and you felt too nauseous to really eat so you’ve mostly just been having things like crackers, toast, and soup. You were so tired after that, you had to go back to sleep.

You wanted the master so bad, you just wanted him to cuddle you. But you knew he wouldn’t do that, you kept him away as much as possible. You didn’t even want to THINK of what he’d say or do if he knew you were sick. He was always talking about how inferior humans were, how stupid they were, how they got so easily sick and hurt. You answered his texts and kept the phone conversations to a minimum making excuses like you had to get back to work. Your biggest fear right now was him finding out how sick you were and abandoning you, that he’d find you a burden. You loved him but you knew well enough that the man didn’t have patience and didn’t hold your species in high regard.

You forgot to refill your water bottle but you were too tired to get back up, you’d do it after you woke up to go to the bathroom. You looked at the clock, eyes straining trying to focus. It’s been enough time where you could take something for your fever and headache. You sighed when you looked at the empathy water bottle but you looked at the last of your soup. You put the pills in your mouth and forced the last mouthful of cold soup down.

You laid all the way down and snuggled into your soft pillows, you were so tired that you started falling asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow. You didn’t know if it was just you missing the master, you being tired, or a mixture of both but you could have SWORN you heard his tardis. But you knew it probably wasn’t him, he’s too busy to check on you and you didn’t want him to know you were sick anyway.

He was getting worried. Every time he texted you, you gave the bare minimum repy, same for when he called, and you kept giving that excuse of needing to go back to work. He thought you were just in a mood but it’s been a little over a week and you were getting worse, you haven’t answered any of his texts or calls that day. He has a multitude of enemies and people that want to hurt and kill him by any means necessary. He didn’t want to bother you and let you ride out whatever you were going through but your silence was terrifying him, he had to pop in and see if you were ok.

You weren’t answering him when he called you but your place looked like someone was here recently. There were cups and bowls in the sink and your pets food bowl was filled. Maybe you WERE at work? maybe you got a job recently. He jumped a little when your cat rubbed up against his leg. He bent down to scratch it behind the ears. “You wouldn't happen to know where she is would you?.” The little thing immediately started going up stairs, looking back to make sure he was following.

It stopped at your bedroom door and started scratching. He opened the door to see you in bed and his hearts immediately melted. He’s never seen you so sick before, why wouldn’t you tell him, he could have helped and you would have been better by now. But now it was too late, there were medicines you should have been taking the first day you weren’t feeling well, now you’d have to ride it out.

He knelt in front of your bed and gently brushed the hair away from your face, he could immediately feel how hot you were just from that brief touch. “Oh dear, why didn’t you tell me.”

He hesitated a bit before picking you up, he was trying to be careful as to not wake you. He was cautiously walking down the stairs to his tardis when you started squirming a little. “Master?” You mumbled before burying your face in his chest. “missed my master so much.”

He looked at your sleepy face and he could feel his hearts skip a beat. You were so cute and sweet, and the way you said his name was the most precious thing he’s ever heard in all his lives. He still couldn’t believe that a human loved and trusted him. “It’s ok love, master’s here.”

He gently laid you down on a bed in the medbay. He wanted you to be in a soft comfy bed but he needed to look at everything first so he’d know what to give you. And then he felt something rub against his leg again, of course it was the cat. He didn’t hate animals by any means he just didn’t want them on the tardis. Besides messing things up they could get lost and hurt. And he’d know how devastated you’d be if something happened to your cat (and as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he’d also be upset)

He gently picked it up and was going to take it out of the ship when he passed by a decent sized room with a clear glass door filled with cat things. He opened the door and plopped it down. “Never thought you’d be ok with a cat.” The tardis gave a sad beep and he touched the console. “It’ll be ok, she’s just sick, i know you’re quite fond of her as well.”

You slowly opened your eyes and…..you weren’t in your room?. It was the master’s ta- oh god, that wasn’t a dream. You THOUGHT you dreamt of him coming to visit you but it clearly wasn’t seeing as you were very obviously now in the tardis medbay. Your heart dropped, there’s no way he’d let you stay with him. After you got better he’d send you back to earth, he’d never-

“Good, you’re awake. I did some basic tests and most things are fine but you’re a bit dehydrated that’s why you’re on the drip.” You looked and realized you were on an iv. You were groggy but you didn’t know how you didn’t realize that. “Sorry I had to use a needle like earth but it’s the best way to help a human. Your blood test was fine at least!” You watched him running around the medbay with papers and a little iphone looking thingy in his hands. He started putting different pills and things on a metal tray. He put down the tray and started organizing everything while flicking through papers.

“There’s something I could have given you the first day to stop this but you didn’t tell me so i’ve made a schedule of what you should take and when so you’ll hopefully not be too uncomfortable. I wanted you in a nice soft bed so you could sleep better but i had to do a checkup first but after your drip is done you should be well enough that you don’t need to stay in the medbay.”

Your heart felt like it was being squeezed and you could feel tears threatening to spill out as you listened to him speak.

He stopped his fussing and looked at you. “What’s wrong, love?, is something hurting?” He gently put his hand on your cheek to get you to face him. “Is it something i’ve done?”

Your heart shattered at the suggestion that you were upset because of him and your tears started freely falling. “NO, no, i-i-it’s not you, it’s m-me. I’m not strong enough.”

He barely understood the last part of what you said, you were sobbing so hard and shaking. “Shhhh, it’s alright dear, it’s ok, i’m here.” he held you until you calmed down a bit

He didn’t exactly know what you were on about, you were probably too exhausted to think properly.

He gingerly took the needle out and bandaged you up. “But you won’t be here forever. You’ll put me back on earth and leave.”

“What makes you think that?!”

You tried to control yourself as you could feel the tears starting up again. “It’s obvious isn't it obvious?, i’m a weak human after i’m better you’ll leave me on earth. I’m a hindrance and a burden”

He was shocked to hear your confession. He gently picked you up and began to carry you to his room. “Where did you get that idea?”

You scoffed a bit. “Stop pretending like you don’t know”

“Humor me love.” You knew this was the last time you’d probably see him so you let yourself the small indulgence of snuggling against him.

You looked down at your hands and at the passing walls, you knew if you looked at him you wouldn’t be able to hold it together and you’ve embarrassed yourself enough for one day. “Humans get sick and hurt so easily. I know you don’t like us because of that and i never wanted you to see me as just another human. I never wanted you to have a reason to leave. I know you’ll have to leave eventually and i just didn’t want it to be because i reminded you of my humanity”

“Oh angle, how in the universe could i ever let you think that.” His voice was shaking like he was about to cry himself but you kept your eyes down.

“You mean so much more to me than anything has in a LONG time.” He carried you through the door and put you down gently on the bed. Your eyes widened as you quickly realized that it was HIS room. You’ve seen it a few times, mostly by accident when the tardis was messing with you.

His room was almost black, the only real light coming from candles and light from the hall. The furniture was a very dark, almost black wood. The four poster bed was massive and had deep purple velvet drapes. The posters had intricate, detailed carvings, swirls, animals, things in his native language. The sheets were black and probably made from the softest material in the universe. It was surprisingly clean, not that you thought he’d leave his room a wreck but it was almost completely spotless, though that was probably just because he never slept.

You’ve probably only been on his bed for a few seconds and you were already struggling to not fall asleep and you weren’t even laying down yet.

He was kicking himself in the head, OF COURSE you thought you’d be included when he insulted humans, why didn’t he realize it sooner?.

He knelt next to you and held your hand. “I need you to know that I promise I never wanted you to feel that way.” He looked like he wanted to say something else but he stood up to walk away. “You need to rest, i’ll talk to you about it when you wake up.”

You grabbed his hand as hard as you could, which wasn’t very hard given how weak and tired you were. “Don’t go.”

He turned around and chuckled. “You need rest love.”

“Stay, please”

He looked at you with your big hopeful eyes, so cute and sweet he couldn’t say no. You smiled as he took off his shoes, jacket, and vest before untying the curtains and pulling them around the bed. He walked around to the other side of the bed and got under the covers. You quickly laid down and snuggled against him and he gathered you in his arms, gently running his fingers through your hair. “Love you master.”

His hearts fluttered. “And I love you more than you could ever imagine.”

#dhawan!master x reader #dhawan!master #doctor who

24 notes · View notes

melon-kiss · 5 years ago

Text

Screaming, Pt 2

Link to the part on AO3.

__________

The curly-headed one has established a new routine. He comes once a week to visit. That’s new.

I don’t get many visitors here. There are nurses, who enter my room three times a day, forcing me to take meds. Well, I’m not the one to give in easily, so they have to put a lot of effort to make me swallow the pills and I don’t do it myself anyway. I look like a dog or a cat - they massage my throat until they’re sure the meds go down to the stomach. I feel sorry for them, but it’s not like I can do much more. My body is detached from my brain.

There’s also a doctor - Mark... something. I didn’t get his last name and didn’t care to ask. He comes by once a day to tell me what the weather’s like, how my blood tests came out and remind me how important it is to eat solid food. They can’t keep me on the IVs for much longer, he says. He mentioned something about me losing a lot of weight. I have to believe him because I don’t recognise my body entirely. He talks to me as if I didn’t know anything. Let me tell you something, mister - I may look like a vegetable but my brain is fine (excluding the major damages caused by LSD, of course). I know I’m in a hospital for the mental ones. I’m not stupid.

The doctor’s visits seem pointless. He looks at my patient chart, takes my temperature, checks my reactions. If the diagnosis were based on them, I would be out in no time. But it’s not. His visits are not completely useless, though. I managed to overlook the chart and confirmed the name once: Molly Hooper. It reminded me of a certain badge and a white coat. These were the memories from the morgue and lab. But I couldn’t see any faces, they were blurred. I remember the rooms, especially the lab. Nothing beyond. Still, it was better than nothing at all.

The curly-headed one comes once a week and sits down almost at the other end of the room, in the left corner. He always wears a suit but he doesn’t look like the police officer that came with him the other day. I can’t figure out what he does for living. He takes off his coat and scarf, and sits in his corner. He puts his hands like in a prayer and presses them against his lips.

And stares.

Endlessly.

Not once in six weeks he’s spoken to me.

His bright blue eyes study my face and my eyes follow his. I don’t take them off of him. I usually sit with my legs pulled up and pressed against my chest, with arms wrapped around my knees. He sits in the corner for about an hour. He doesn’t take notes, doesn’t look away. Doesn’t take a short round around the room to straighten up his legs. It’s a routine and it’s quite comforting to know what he’s going to do every time he drops by.

Then, after the hour is over, the puts on his scarf and coat, comes close to me. He places a kiss on my forehead and whispers something that sounds like “Norbury”.

But after those six weeks I notice a change. During the seventh week, I wait. I keep glancing at the clock over the door on Wednesday. He doesn’t have one specific hour we comes at but the later it gets, the more anxious I am. Not that anyone could tell - my body is still resilient to all brain commands. It’s heavy, like a medieval armour.

It’s almost nine in the evening when he walks in. I have no idea why he’s been let in at such a late hour, but he does come in. He looks pale and exhausted. His movements are slower than usual. There are dark circles around his eyes. He flops onto the chair and doesn’t look at me intensively anymore. He supports his head with the thumb and the index finger of his right hand and blinks but there are no more thinking traces in his eyes. He moves his eyelids up and down and they’re heavy from something that resembles pain.

He sits like this for about twenty minutes and then he pulls up his chair right at the end of my bed. He stares straight at me at the very close proximity of two feet.

I don’t have the slightest idea of what my face is showing but I know I feel frightened.

I understand what happened to me, I know the side effects of LSD. And I know that it wasn’t my weekly guest who drugged me - it was a girl named Eurus. Since he looks like a male, I don’t have any reason to believe he’s the perpetrator, but if I didn’t know any better, I would suspect it because the guilt filling his eyes is so heavy I wonder how he can walk without limping. But now, being close to him, I can feel the warmth of his breath. It’s fresh, very minty at the end of every exhale. My heart pounds pretty quickly comparing to last seven weeks but I still don’t move much. I feel trapped.

I try to tell him it’s not his fault. I really do. I can see he puts all the blame on himself and I would like to tell him to forget it. I don’t remember him anyway. He should find someone else and fall in love again (I hate those so called advices but they seem to work for some people, and I hope they would for him), maybe this time with someone less mental. He’s very handsome; I’m sure he won’t have a problem finding someone willing to take the pain away. He also seems very intelligent and perceptive. That’s always very attractive.

He looks at me for another thirty minutes and stands up unexpectedly. He locks my face in his hands and kisses my forehead, but then, he puts our foreheads together. I raise my eyes up to see his face and it’s all wrinkled with pain. He closes his eyelids very tightly.

“I’m so sorry, Molly,” he whispers and it almost sounds like crying. “Please, forgive me. Please. Please. Don’t hate me.”

I want to comfort him that I don’t even know him and therefore cannot hate him. It’s this Eurus gal. She’s nuts, not him. Maybe she hates him? I don’t understand why I would do it. Unless he was my bodyguard, he’s not the one to blame. And even if he were, it wouldn’t be his fault. He’s not the perpetrator.

The minute he straightens, one of the grey-haired visitors walks in. It’s the shortest one. He looks at the curly-headed, worried. He, however, steps back quickly.

“Sherlock, we should go.”

Sherlock. I come to realise that it must be his name. Sounds dramatic. Baroque. Funny even.

“I know. Thank you, John.”

I follow him with my eyes to the exit. He walks out without looking back.

I lie down on my bed and cover myself with a blanket. Although my brain has issues adjusting to the new reality it’s found itself in, my sleeping schedule is quite regular and looks good; I fall asleep around eleven, wake up at seven. My dreams are very basic - they are a mix of the hospital staff’s faces and childhood memories. My dad often comes to me and plays with me and my sister. I know he’s dead. I remember that much. It fills me with sadness. I have this one memory; our dad was always cheerful, even after he was diagnosed with cancer. But I caught him sitting alone in the bedroom once, going through our old family photos. I was quite certain he was crying. Being twelve back then, I had no idea what to do, how to help him, so I got back to my sister. Our dad came back to play with us five minutes later and he was cheerful again. If I hadn’t seen him earlier, I could never have told he was in pain.

Then, after I wake up, the nurses change my IVs, force me into taking meds, I sit. They try to feed me with solid food, like toasts for breakfast and pasta for dinner. I cannot make my body move towards the plates. I promise myself that I will try to force my muscles everyday to make a progress and maybe finally reach the food. I have to, if I want to survive.

But do I?

Do I want to return to the life I don’t know? Do I want to be out of the hospital, in the real world? Out of the warm comfort zone of my bed? Amongst the people I don’t recognise? All I have is the memories, more even like shreds of them. A man falling behind the window. A present? And the word: you. I don’t even know that it means.

The memories from the last visit of the unknown trio are without any faces again. They trigger my anxiety, so when I try to go through them again, I do it very carefully. I don’t know why it’s so difficult for me but I feel like there’s a huge weight to them. Maybe back then I felt emotionally attached to all those events? I can’t exclude any possibility. But the man... Have I witnessed a suicide? That would explain the fright.

And the curly-headed one. Sherlock. He’s handsome. But why would a man so attractive come to my hospital bed every week? He said something about love but if he does love me, I won’t be able to tell. His visits are not romantic. He doesn’t try to convince me to talk. He just sits there and stares. Maybe he tries to find a solution? Truth is, I start to like his presence. He’s arrogant but I feel like there are whole entire worlds to see under this obnoxious shell. I wish I could tell him about my thoughts, but my body does not cooperate.

I fall asleep to a voice echoing I love you in my head.

* * *

“...she’s definitely in dissociative fugue. It means that she blocks all the traumatic memories, or even more. Her memory can spontaneously get back entirely one day, or piece by piece... or never. Seeing you, all of you, can help but it’s no guarantee. Just talk to her but don’t force her into remembering anything. Use phrases she can remember, show photos of places she’s been to. But not too often and not too forcibly. It can get worse.”

The door to my room creaks when it’s being opened and the Three Horsemen of Madness come in. Not one of them looks happy to be here. I can sense their awkwardness. I imagine talking to me must be as weird as talking to a wall. The result is pretty much the same. Sherlock and the police officer sit, the short one, John, stands. They all keep a distance, as if afraid of my sudden attack. Considering my body does not belong to me anymore, there’s no threat.

“Hello, Molly,” John says finally. “I’m sure you have troubles remembering us... but we’re here to help you. My name is doctor John Watson. This is detective inspector Greg Lestrade and this is... Sherlock Holmes.”

This is the part where a normal person would respond but as it happens, I’m no longer considered normal. It has its perks, you know. My gaze jumps from one person to another. Detective inspector has a wrinkle of worry between his eyebrows and looks hurt. Doctor Watson anticipates some sort of feedback from me, apparently. Sherlock Holmes studies my eyes thoroughly again.

They all should be locked down here with me, to be honest.

“Sherlock and I are sort of... detectives,” John says.

Three detectives in my room. Am I a forensic pathologist? No, I remember St. Bartholomew’s hospital. I once met a guy named Jim there, who turned out to be gay. But someone had warned me about this before...

I see shreds of the lab. I feel dizzy and blink intensively, while John continues his monologue.

“...and you used to help us. You know, we could really trust you.”

...and I’ve always trusted...

“Molly.” Sherlock’s voice does it again to me - makes my heart race. I blink quickly. “We’d like to discuss a case with you. It’s very easy, I’ve found the resolution in about three minutes.” Ugh, cocky. “But that’s why we’d like to start with something very simple.”

He looks at Greg.

“Well, the victim was found naked in his own home, with only watch on his left hand,” Lestrade says. “The watch wasn’t working, it showed eleven thirty. It was male, thirty four, worked as a...”

“No, you’re doing it wrong,” Sherlock interjected. “You’re telling the story from the wrong point of view. How is she supposed to understand a word of what you say if you tell the story, starting from the middle?”

The cockiness again. Something in my body wakes up. I begin to feel a strange heat somewhere in my chest area. I’m close to rolling my eyes on him.

“Sherlock, I think it is the beginning,” John argues. “This is how the story begins for us.”

“Oh, come on, John, not you too!” Sherlock replies, annoyance visible on his face. “I understand that being an idiot must be difficult but it doesn’t excuse you from thinking at all.”

What?

John only rolls his eyes (finally, someone!). The argument gets hotter with every minute and Sherlock doesn’t slow down with the insults. I don’t like it. It’s getting on my nerves. “Idiots”, “morons”, “half-brainiacs”, “thinking requires a brain”. These phrases slip out of his mouth uncontrollably. I see now he’s the emotional one in this trio. John and Greg try to convince him to calm down but he’s on fire. He cannot be stopped.

“...and I’ve told you, the watch has been tampered with! Oh, his bloody fiancé set the time as a symbol of the number of days spent together. Until she’d found out about the lover, of course. A three-year-old could resolve this! Seriously, Lestrade, I’m starting to consider that they choose ONLY MORONS to be police officers...”

Before I can restrain myself, I hear my own voice:

“STOP IT!”

I feel like I’m outside my own body. I watch myself from a perspective of a third person. The room falls silent. I observe three pairs of eyes getting wide to the size of tennis balls. Sherlock’s sarcastic look on his face fades into fear.

Every vein in my body pulses furiously. The heat takes over my numb muscles. My face burns. The bones in my jaw almost hurt, when I say the words:

“JUST STOP IT!”

Suddenly I stand on my bed but not for long. I take a long leap and jump on Sherlock, pinning him to the floor.

Once again I’m in no control of my body. Something in my brain tells me to stop but my fingers wrap tightly around his neck without my consent. I’m out of control but this time, I can’t stop my body from moving, not from sitting still. He’s slim but strong and I’m certain he’s able to defend himself, especially with my arms so skinny and bones so frail. I don’t know if it’s the shock or the lack of strength, but he doesn’t do much to push me.

I feel John’s and Greg’s hands trying to pull me away, but my fury is stronger. My palms clench even tighter around Sherlock’s neck.

“Molly!”

I’m not Molly. I’m not the one they’d like me to be. Molly Hooper doesn’t exist anymore.

I look straight in Sherlock’s eyes. They’re bright blue, filled with tears. He seems to be begging me, but not to stop. Forgiveness. It feels like a sorry. And not even for getting me mad. I don’t understand. For a second I think I let go a bit of the clench.

You. I’ve seen those eyes before.

Dizzy. World spins. I tighten up my grip.

“NURSE!”

A few second later I hear the door creaking again. Several footstep approach me. They pull me back by my arms and shoulders, I fight it. I notice three nurses and a doctor. He holds a syringe in his hand.

“STOP IT!”

It sounds like crying. I shake, try to bite, kick everything and everyone. I toss and turn, and I’m not even in my bed anymore. My body is detached from my brain. Still. I want to be calm but I can’t. Everything in me says to be furious, so I am.

“STOP IT!”

My scream is so loud it makes my guests wince. The nurses and the doctor manage to hold me in their arms for five seconds. Sherlock slowly sits on the floor. I feel a sting in my arm, which makes me only scream more. Whatever is in that syringe, it starts working immediately. Sherlock’s frightened face gets blurry. Suddenly, I find myself lying on the floor.

“Leave me alone,” I mumble.

I see a colourful sweater, a kitchen and a telephone in my hand. Before I’m able to take a closer look, I drift away into a black emptiness.

#sherlolly #sherlock #sherlock x molly #molly x sherlock #sherlock holmes #molly hooper #fanfiction #screaming

22 notes · View notes

spaceskam · 5 years ago

Text

touch me (just try it)

for @insidious-intent ❤️

ao3

warning for implied depression and depression-influenced shitty eating habits

Most people didn't remember the day their gifts kicked in. Typically because it was gradual, it would just start one day and then eventually they'd notice. Alex didn't have that luxury.

Alex remembered the exact day his life changed: May 3rd, 2003.

He woke up to his dog running into his bedroom, barking and jumping into his bed. He'd reached out to pet him and then watched first hand as his dog begin to seize beneath his hand until he died right there. He was fine and then he wasn't. Alex called for his mom, crying and running to meet her halfway. She touched his face like she always did and, just like that, she fell on the floor.

Thankfully, since the power was still developing, she was able to survive via his father giving her CPR and having her rushed to the hospital. They were able to restart her heart that Alex had stopped.

The doctors had brought in a gift specialist to speak with Alex and they all but quarantined him to do so. It was the scariest moment of his life when they told him he'd have to be extra careful now. He couldn't touch anyone. He was considered legally a weapon. They put him in secluded spaces in school but it didn't stop him from being bullied, he took pills that were supposed to subdue it but didn't stop the neighbor's cat from dying when she brushed against his leg, and he adapted to being covered head to toe at all times but it didn't stop people from treating him like a plague. Nothing stopped his father from suggesting he be sent away and nothing stopped his parents from divorcing, his father taking his brothers and his mother taking Alex because she was the only one who wasn't scared to be in the same room as him.

The closest thing he got to human interaction these days were talks with his gift specialist and his mother. Even then, he couldn't touch them. When he cried, they couldn't console him. "Don't be silly," they said when he suggested a hazmat suit so that he could get one more hug, "there's no guarantee that'd work." Instead, he got a weighted blanket for Christmas.

He regretted not appreciating all the hugs all his mother gave him before this happened.

"Earth to Alex."

Alex looked up to see his mother handing him a plate of food. He involuntarily scrunched up his nose, slipping out of his seat.

"Not hungry."

"You never are," she said, tossing a Ziploc bag of cereal at him. He caught it and put it on his backpack. "Eat that at least."

Alex hummed in agreement though he knew he wouldn't. She kissed her hand and blew it to him.

"Love you, have a good day."

Somehow that always felt like a joke.

Alex walked to school on autopilot, no longer phased as people crossed the street to get away from him. Everyone in town knew about him for their own safety. As soon as he was positively diagnosed with a deadly gift, the entire town was notified. He tried not to think of how he was on the same level as a sex offender.

He walked through the halls at school and people parted like the Red Sea. The worst part was he couldn't blame them. He didn't know what a simple brush of his hand would do. He'd hurt three living things in his life and they all involved prolonged touching. He didn't know what he could get away with and he didn't want to try.

He got to class first, a class full of other "special" gifted people. People whose gifts definitely made it more difficult for them to integrate with the rest. Like Cara who could hear people's thoughts but only the negative ones or Max who had electrokinesis to the point no one really wanted to touch him either.

Alex sat in the far back in a chair that was separated from everyone else, a circle of desks around him that no one sat in. He fiddled with his gloves mindlessly as he waited for class to start. Then he could go home and watch YouTube until he fell asleep and then repeat. He figured that's what he'd be doing the rest of his life. He'd never get a job like this, he'd never get a boyfriend. It was just... this.

And then a ray of sunshine entered the room.

Not a literal one, of course, but a boy with glowing curls and a bright smile on his face. He walked in with skip in his step, bringing a piece of paper to the teacher. She smiled and welcomed him and told him to sit wherever. The boy scanned the room and, when his eyes landed on Alex, he smiled brighter. Alex swallowed hard and kept his face as neutral as possible despite the fact he could feel the tips of his ears getting hot.

"Hey, I'm Michael," the guy said as he took a seat right beside Alex. It was the closest anyone really got to Alex these days and he couldn't help but eye him weirdly. Michael still smiled. "Cool gloves."

Alex pulled his hands into his lap.

"So," Michael continued, clearly having it in his mind that he needed to get Alex to talk to him, "Let me guess. Gloves, so, something to do with your hands. Cryokinesis? Tactile empathy? Oh, I knew one girl, whoever she touched just suddenly found her to be the hottest person in the room. Sounds cool at first, but it kinda sucked long term."

Alex continued to stare at him like he'd lost it. He must be new in school. How come no one told him already to stay away from Alex? That seemed to be the first thing people did. But... He was in this class too. Maybe he had something special too. Alex didn't ask.

"Not very talkative, are you? Oh, maybe that's apart of your thing!" Michael said, excited enough to make Alex smile without warning.

"No, it's not," Alex told him. Michael's eyes seemed to light up like the goddamn sun and he was so gorgeous that Alex could hardly take it. Was this a special torture method? Send someone sweet to him just so he could be tempted to touch before the end up hating him like everyone else. "But I don't like talking about it."

"Fair enough," Michael agreed, "What's your name?"

"Alex."

"Alex," Michael repeated and it made Alex melt. Definitely torture. "Can I borrow a pencil?" That put Alex firmly back into confusion territory.

"Why?"

"Because I need something to write with?" he said slowly, laughter in his voice. Oh God, Alex was going to die. "I forgot to bring anything, sue me."

"Okay," Alex agreed, pulling out a pencil from his bag. He held onto the very tip and held it out to Michael, careful that they wouldn't touch.

Except Michael took it and his fingers grazed Alex's.

Alex snatched his hand back, staring in horror as he waited. He waited to see that brightness drain from Michael's eyes, waited to see him fall, waited for his heart to stop beating. But it didn't happen.

"Relax," Michael laughed, curls bouncing as bright as ever as he leaned back into his seat. But Alex couldn't relax. Someone just touched him, albeit barely, but they did. "So your power is something negative. I get it."

Alex didn't pay attention in class that day. He was far too busy waiting for this beautiful man to die.

He never did.

"Alex, wait up!"

Alex was more than a little shocked when he turned his head to see Michael jogging his way. He was still smiling when he caught up to him. Did he ever not smile? He hoped not.

"You walk fast," Michael laughed, "Wanna go get coffee or something? Ms. Daley said I should talk to someone from class to catch me up and you're the only person I've talked to, so."

"Coffee?" Alex clarified. Michael nodded. "I... I can't."

"Why not?" Michael pouted. He pouted. Who the hell told him he could do that? "Please?"

"I..." Alex trailed off, trying to think of something before he ended up just holding up his hand as if that was an answer. "Can't."

Michael eyed it and pursed his lips. He seemed to do some hard thinking before he got that grin right back.

"No worries. There's a little cafe a couple blocks away. They serve anyone with whatever power, I asked them, so we'll just sit in the back and we'll tell them you've got a hand one so they can be careful," Michael solved like it was that easy.

“I can just give you my notes.”

“Nooo, I wanna socialize. Socialize with me,” Michael pleaded. Alex didn't know how to say that it wasn't an option, he didn't know how to say that everyone already knew about him. But he also couldn't say no to spending time with him.

"Okay," Alex agreed hesitantly. Michael looked awfully proud of himself and gestured to the right.

“Let’s go,” Michael said. Alex didn’t know what to say, so he just started walking.

As they headed towards the cafe, Michael brushed his arm against him. Alex again looked at him in horror and moved away and waited for him to die. But Michael just laughed and kept walking. Alex was failing to see how this was funny. In fact, he was freaking the fuck out.

He was being touched. And no one was dying.

Alex didn't say anything though. Maybe it just wasn't enough contact, maybe those pills subdued it just enough that he could have slightly brushes of contact and it'd be okay. Still, it had him confused enough to the point Michael had to carry the entire conversation.

By the time they got to the Crashdown Cafe, he knew Michael had come here from Alberquerque, he'd moved because his foster parents were and they actually wanted to keep him, and that his favorite food was frosted Cheerios. And, still, all Alex heard was his heart thumping in his ears. A pretty ball of light touched him and didn’t burn out.

“Hi!” he cheered to the people working at the cafe. Even though he was new, they seemed to know him and waved to him. It was strange.

Alex could feel eyes on him as he followed Micahel to the back of the cafe, being extra cautious not to bump into anyone. They got the booth farthest to the back and Alex slid close to the wall, putting his bag on the other side of him. Michael sat across from him, still smiling.

“Okay, Mr. Alex. Teach me a thing,” Michael said. Alex could barely take it. Was it even legal to be that fucking cute?

Alex took out his notes and slid them over to Michael.

“That’s basically everything we’ve learned so far. Which I could’ve just given you in the first place,” Alex pointed out. Michael gave a little prideful shimmy and wiggled his eyebrows. Who the fuck allowed that? He had to look away.

“So, since we got that out of the way,” Michael said, taking the notes and removing them from the table, “Tell me about you, about Roswell, about anything.” Were boys always this forward? Alex didn’t know that was a real thing boys did. He thought that was just a movie thing.

“Um,” Alex said, looking around so he didn’t have to look at how painfully adorable he was, “Not much to tell. I’m boring, Roswell’s boring.”

“I don’t believe that,” Michael insisted.

“No, really, I don’t do anything. I-I don’t even go out. I go to school and then I go home because...”

“Of the hand thing, right,” Michael said. They fell silent for a moment. Alex hated himself for it. He couldn’t even hold a conversation right. “Well, tell me just one thing.”

“What?” Alex asked hesitantly.

“How many queer people are in this town? Like, am I gonna have to play it straight or what?”

And to think Alex assumed this boy could not fuck him up more.

Through a clearly playful grin, Michael said, “Man, you are the easiest person in the world to make blush, you know that?” Alex dropped his chin to his chest. “I kinda love it.”

“Um,” Alex breathed, trying to gather his thoughts. Why? Why? Why? WHY? “Th-there aren’t many out people around town that I know of. But I’m not the right person to ask, I don’t know anything, I don’t hang out with anyone.”

“Oh,” Michael said, “Sorry, I wasn’t clear. That was a shitty way of asking you if you were queer.”

Alex looked up at him with wide eyes. Jesus fucking Christ. Could he be more forward? Actually, Alex didn’t want to meet someone who was more forward than him. He might explode.

“I...” Alex said, swallowing hard, “Yeah.”

Michael flashed a smile so wide, his cheeks made his eyes scrunch up. “Cool.”

Alex had never been more thankful to see another person when an older man walked up to the table, a notepad in hand and ready to take their order. Michael turned his smile onto him and Alex finally felt like he could take a breath away from the spotlight.

“What can I get for you boys?” he asked.

Michael ordered for them both and the man gave Alex a kind smile that said ‘I know but it’s okay’ and that was just a lot to deal with. This in itself was a lot to deal with. Michael was too much and too nice and too forward. He needed to process this. He needed to go home.

“I think I should go,” Alex said, grabbing his bag and going to slide out of the booth so he could leave.

“Wait, Alex,” Michael said, reaching out and grabbing his hand.

He grabbed his hand.

Alex snatched his arm away so fast that he elbowed the back of the booth hard enough to hurt. Michael just looked confused that he would want to get away from him that badly.

“How are you not dead?” Alex asked, voice hushed and slightly horrified as Michael didn’t croak from grabbing his hand.

Michael blinked a few times in shock, slowly registering what was happening. Alex didn’t know how he hadn’t figured it out earlier. Maybe he was all looks and smiles and no fucking brain.

“Oh. So... you can kill people,” Michael said. Alex pressed his lips into a hard line and prepared for the backlash.

“Less of a can, more of an I don’t have a choice,” Alex retorted. Michael nodded slowly and that smile slowly, slowly started spreading across his cheeks.

“Well, isn’t this very convenient,” Michael said. Alex’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I can’t actually die.”

“You’re immortal?” Alex sputtered out. Michael scrunched up his nose and tilted his head.

“Invincible is the word they used. Like, I can’t get hurt. So, whatever your power is, it isn’t like a straight death thing, it’s a hurt then death thing. But since I can’t get hurt, you can’t kill me,” Michael said proudly.

Again, Alex could hear his heart thumping in his ears. His face was getting hot and he felt a little lightheaded. He didn’t know how to react to that. He didn’t know how to feel about possibly having someone he could touch... and that person being attractive and also impossibly nice. It didn’t make sense.

Besides, he’d never heard of someone being invincible. It just wasn’t possible.

“I... I don’t believe you,” Alex said. Michael put his hands on the table and made a grabby motion.

“Let me prove it to you,” he said. Alex gulped hard and shook his head.

“What if you're wrong? I don’t want to kill you. I’m considered a weapon,” Alex insisted. Michael pursed his lips for a moment before his eyes lit up with an idea.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened the camera, turning it on himself. Alex felt like his lungs were fucking failing. What was happening?

“I, Michael Guerin, totally consent to be touched by Alex... I don’t know your last name, Alex. But if it kills me, then it’s totally my fault. Video evidence, see?” Michael said, promptly dropping his phone before making grabby hands all over again. “Lemme show you.”

Reluctantly, he raised his hand from beneath the table. He was too scared to reach for him or even meet him halfway, but... he could do that.

“Can I touch you?” Michael asked, a little more serious now as he fed off of Alex’s straight fear.

“Okay,” Alex whispered. Michael gave that comforting smile and reached across the table, grabbing his hand between both of his.

Alex didn’t breathe basically the entire time. Michael held his hand for a moment before asking if he could take off the glove and, when he got the okay, he did.

For the first time in years, Alex had skin to skin contact.

“Hey, don’t cry,” Michael said which was the only reason Alex knew he was crying, “It’s okay.”

“Everything I’ve touched since I was 13 had immediate heart failure,” Alex admitted, voice weak and crackly. But he didn’t care. He didn’t realize how much he missed being touched.

Which was scary because he already knew he missed it a lot.

“Oh,” Michael said, blinking hard and eyes going wide like it just clicked. And maybe it did. Maybe he didn’t get it. Honestly, Alex didn’t think he ever would. “Well, sounds like we make a pretty good match then, huh?”

Alex let out a wet laugh and stared down at his hand in between Michael’s. He got to watch and feel as Michael rubbed his thumb over the heel of his hands, his fingers stretching up past the cuff of his shirt to feel his wrist. His other hand traced over his palm and dedicated time to play with each of his fingers. Alex didn’t even care as a tear rolled over his cheek.

“So, uh,” Michael said after a moment, “Where else can I touch you?”

Alex managed to steal his eyes away from their hands to look at him, laughing as he shook his head. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so goddamn happy. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been happy at all. But right now was amazing.

Right now, he didn’t feel alone.

“I barely know you,” Alex pointed out. Michael shrugged slightly and Alex felt his foot drag up his leg.

“I’m excited to know you,” Michael said decisively.

Alex couldn’t lie. He was excited too.

#this is just the beginning to this universe btw i love it a lot #malex #malex fic #michael guerin #alex manes #roswell new mexico #my fic #verse: touch me

86 notes · View notes

bexterbex · 5 years ago

Text

Masking the Heart | Ch. 3

A new galactic war was forming, and your star system needed to create an alliance. Your father, the king, made a deal with the First Order in a promise of protection for guaranteed trade. You are arranged to marry the Commander Kylo Ren, apprentice of the Supreme Leader. A man who is hidden behind his mask. Will your husband show you his heart? Or will it be forever hidden behind a mask?

No tag lists | Masterlist

*Note: The author of this work does not condone arranged marriage practices, domestic abuse, or non-con sexual encounters, this work is for fictional uses only.*

Chapter 3

You woke up with a kink in your neck from falling asleep in the window seat. It was a comfortable place to read and sit but not one to sleep. And you could feel the effects your body had after the last two days, you were sore and aching in a way you never knew was possible. You struggled to get up and walk back to your room to grab your datapad. There was a new message in the inbox from your husband.

Princess Ren,

Today a droid will deliver a pill to you. Take it. I was aware that you were not on any sort of birth control when we married, and this will rectify any possible problems from our last two rendezvous. That same droid will also implant a device into your arm to prevent any accidental pregnancies from happening.

I am aware that you will need to produce an heir for your star system at some point, but for now I require you to remain childless. We will have a further discussion in the future on how we are to go about this.

You are also expected not to leave the chambers without my permission. This will give you plenty of time to learn about the First Order. I will inform you when I am to be back, at my earliest convenience.

Commander Kylo Ren

Apprentice to Supreme Leader Snoke and Master of the Knights of Ren

So he was going to keep you infertile until he needed you to be pregnant. Now you didn’t have a possible excuse to escape his needs. You were going to be forever trapped in a cycle with him, but at least you had a week to be away from him.

You ordered yourself breakfast as you scrolled through your ‘learning’ material. All of it seemed to be some sort of propaganda that the First Order fed to its citizens and ‘troopers. You had been eating and reading for a bit before you heard an alert at the door. You answered it, and in came a small flying black droid. The one that would give you the pill and the device.

It prompted you to sit in one of the chairs as it dispensed the pill and a small glass of water for you to take it with. Then came the insertion of the device. It prompted you to hold out your non-dominant arm which you compiled as you watched it inject you with a local anesthetic. You watched as it effortlessly sliced a small line into your arm and inserted the device. And then it applied you with a layer of bacta and a bandage. Once it was finished it gave out a happy trill sound before it left you completely alone once more.

You sat in the chair for a while, thinking about your future, or rather the lack of it thereof. You were to be his wife, but not just that, you were to warm his bed whenever he saw fit; you were to obey his commands and stay isolated in your chambers, only coming out whenever he approved of it. In many ways you felt like a concubine, the only real difference was the ring on your finger and the last name you had taken.

You had no future without him, but with him you had no future of your own. You were bound to him, now for eternity and there was nothing you could do about it. Especially because it might come as a cost to your people. Your freedom for theirs. ‘Your duty was to the crown and its people.’ He was now the future crown, someone you would have to obey always.

The next few days came and went with a blur. You had tried to make a regular schedule of getting up, having breakfast, daily hygiene, learning, and some light exercise. You were grateful that the main living space was large; it meant that you could walk in a large circle around the room. There really was little for you to do, you had tried to order just ingredients through the datapad but the authorization was denied. You needed to ask your husband directly to approve it and according to the message center he was offline all week.

So here you were a day before he was supposed to return bored out of your mind. In your pacing you had accidentally hit the entry button to your husband’s room with your arm. It made a loud error sound. Curiosity killed the cat, so you actually placed your hand against the sensor and it repeated the sound. So now you knew that you were not allowed access to his room, but he was allowed access to yours.

Fitting.

Today you tried to entertain yourself with some videos on the holonet but nothing seemed to be working. Nothing at all. You had been basically isolated for the past week with your only contact being that of the droids that delivered your food. You were lonely, and by all accounts you missed your husband, because even if he didn’t treat you like another human being he was at least one himself. But that seemed to be all that you could say about him.

You heard your datapad ping with a message alert. It was Kylo.

Princess Ren,

I will be back earlier than expected, 1 H from now.

Commander Kylo Ren

Apprentice to Supreme Leader Snoke and Master of the Knights of Ren

That hour did not give you much time to prepare. But why did you really need to prepare? He hadn’t given you any orders to be properly dressed for him. Or really do anything for that matter. But you decided to do it anyway, you weren’t ready to try to test the boundaries yet, so you got ready. By the time you were done and had exited your room you had a few seconds before he came barging in.

You were two steps out your door, as he crowded into your space pushing you back into the bedroom. You could see his robes were dirty and singed, he smelled as if he had gotten off straight from the battlefield. You were pretty sure that there was probably blood on his robes too as he shoved you down onto the bed. Like the kitchen before he left, he did not strip you; he did not face you; he was going to take you from behind.

Although this time he wasn’t going to bind your wrists, it seemed like he didn’t even have enough patience for that. Your skirt was hiked up, underwear once again ripped off as he quickly sheathed a full gloved finger inside of you. Your cunt clenched around it for a few seconds before it was replaced by his hardened cock. Like the previous two times he had taken pleasure in you, he was unrelenting. You were practically being smothered in your own sheets as you struggled to breathe.

While there were tears in your eyes from the pain, you could hear his vocal pleasure through the mask. The distorted sounds made him more animal than human, which wasn’t far off from how he was acting. You were there for him; you were his prey. It seemed pretty evident that he did not care for you, he only cared about what you could offer him.

You wondered how your life would be different, if you were married to another man. Would he take you just as harshly? Would he speak to you? Or would you be in roughly the same boat? As far as you could tell right now your husband wasn’t a kind man, nor was he gentle in any way. You also wondered just how many men were built like him in the galaxy. He was certainly very strong as he seemed to demolish your cervix. Even with your uttered lack of experience you knew he was large for a man, especially as each thrust bruised you to your core. He was large enough to cause a lot of pain, stretching you completely.

You felt his already crushing grip tighten. His grunts got longer and deeper as you felt his pace stutter. And then you felt him spill into you, the hot rushing cum filling you. You were now thankful for his insistent use of birth control, this was not how you wanted to bring a child into the world. Especially when its father would be a practical stranger to you, let alone help you raise it.

And like before he slipped out of you without any word, without any signal to tell you he was really through. And he left you there on your tear-stained mattress, the skirt of your dress still around your waist as the door shut behind him. As you attempted to get up, you could feel the remnants leak out of you. You practically crawled into the refresher. Starting your usual scalding hot bath to clean yourself, to attempt to get rid of his remnants. To scrub your skin absolutely bare.

You had a relatively shorter bath this time around; you had already been through this twice before. You left the refresher in only a towel, but this time as you were getting dressed your husband re-entered your room. His robes were changed and you could smell the fresh scent of soap on him as he crowded into your personal space. He had bathed just like you had done. Still in the towel you clenched it around you, although it really wouldn’t do you much good as he has already seen you naked, and could request you as such any time.

He leaned down to your level, his masked face inches away from yours. You could see your breath fog up the black steel. It was like staring down the most dangerous predator in the galaxy. He brought his hand up to yank the towel away, leaving you exposed to him. His hand trailed down your body, the leather causing goosebumps along your skin. He trailed down to your pelvis, his hand dipping between your thighs. You could feel his fingers tentatively tease your folds, before he plunged his middle finger into you before he forcefully used his thumb against your crotch, pushing your canal forward. Squeezing your delicate parts forward, like the organs were just movable. The grasp made you yell out in pain, and then he pushed two other fingers into you. It was like the grab of death. The pressure on the inside of your walls was basically unbearable.

As he continued to cause immense pressure and pain he started to thrust his fingers in and out of you. This went on for a while as he watched your face closely, while you writhed in pain. Eventually he pulled his fingers out and while you prepared for his dick to be shoved in, that wasn’t what happened. Instead, he brought his now slick leather-clad fingers up to your mouth. Pushing them against your lips. “Open,” was what he commanded. You compiled as he shoved them into your mouth, almost gagging you. “Now clean them.”

Your eyes widened in shock at the vulgar request, but you couldn’t help but obey him. Tasting yourself wasn’t an overly pleasant experience, from both the actual outcome of the tasting and the taste itself. But once you had sucked them clean his fingers slid out of your mouth with a pop. You then watch as he unzipped the front of his pants, his erection springing free. In an instant you were shoved down hard to your knees. As you gasped at the sudden shock of being pushed down, he took this as an opportunity to shove his cock into your mouth gagging you.

“Take it,” he commanded.

If there weren't already tears running down your face from his initial hold on your pussy, they definitely were now as he rammed himself down your throat. “Suck and take it,” his voice was harsh and menacing coming through his mask. You did as best as you could, but you were sobbing the whole time as he continued to thrust down the back of your throat. He was hardly allowing you to breathe, still seeking his own pleasure. You were just some toy for him to play with, an object for him to use. You could feel your own saliva dripping out of your mouth and running down your chin as he continued his harsh fucking of your face.

As he unloaded into your mouth, you started to gag even more, “Swallow Princess.” Your title came out like an insult on his lips, but you did your best to obey him, choking down his hot cum. Once he was finished he pulled out and ordered, “Clean it.”

You looked up at him, rather unsure as to what to do since when he ordered you to clean his fingers he just shoved them into your mouth until you sucked them clean. This time however you lick him clean like his cock was an ice cream cone, only this cone was hot, salty and thick. Once he was satisfied with your cleaning job, he shoved his cock back into his pants before he leaned down to you. His face still above yours, but he didn’t say anything. He just seemed to stare at you while you were beneath him. He held his position of power over you, both figuratively and literally. And then he left, leaving you alone once more.

And here you were crying while butt naked on the floor. Your husband was just using you, not caring for your feelings or wants. No. You were his and his to own. You must please him, he is the future of the crown. ‘Your duty was to the crown and its people.’

#kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren smut #masking the heart #kylo ren x you #kylo x reader #kylo x you #star wars #star wars imagine #sw first order imagine #star wars first order

42 notes · View notes

anonil88 · 4 years ago

Text

“This isn't prison break.”parts 1 & 2

Rue runs away for a night from rehab with a bunch of people she doesn't know. They go to a club, do some stupid stuff and adopt a cat.

wrote this and put it on AO3- lnk here- but also updating on here:

PART 1

Rue laughs absently at the other group of "degenerates" as Ali would call them. They are walking along the side of the road towards wherever a kid named Malcolm was leading them. She technically was supposed to be in her small dorm bed asleep and awaiting 4 am check in. But instead here she was being a fellow degenerate who had technically escaped the rehab facility. They all intended on going back to the treatment facility eventually. She hopes Sol would even though it meant they probably would be separated. They all just needed a night of more because everyone was on edge and needed a break. Everyone was aware that the consequences would be getting kicked out or all restrictions taken away. But, fuck it.

Her group of acquaintances, because they were not her friends, was made up of a random assortment of folks. One of which was some guy named Graham who was apparently the older "brother" of Angel. Angel was the only one out of the group besides her roommate who actually knew more than whatever she half assed in group therapy. Which was very little but it was enough to keep them.... interested. Rue shoves her hands in the pockets of a pair of baggy shorts that Angel threw at her in a parking lot after everyone met back up. Their escape plan was a plan but they all booked it through a hole in the fence and through a patch of woods at first. Some person named Bones, who had to at least be a sophomore in college, picked them all up in a hatchback and the Graham who opened a backpack filled with vices.

Rue steered clear of the opiates and went straight for the bottle of Coconut Rum. Even though she could practically hear the pills singing her fucking name. Most of them actually opted to be clean of whatever landed them in rehab but not sober. Not everyone though because Angel was definitely rolling a tiny bit and so were two other people out of the 5 fence jumpers. Including her roommate Sol. Rue just figured the slap on the wrist once they got back would be less harsh without a positive test. The rum was more than enough to stay kind of alert amongst everyone here. All these faces that might leave her dying face down in a ditch if she OD’ed....again.

She wasn't even in here because of an overdose. Just a basic relapse that made her mom's mind up for her and now she was forced into a stupid facility with strangers. They forced her to talk, made sure she ate, but she honestly felt worse being inside than out. It was probably working the 12 steps and quiet therapy sessions but in places she didn't see yet. This right here though the warmth of the air touching her skin as the packed car they'd all tumbled into hurtled through empty streets. Leaning her head back she mumbles along the lyrics while Sol pulls at the worn shirt collar.

"Beep beep go swerving in my, Beep been you want me riding in your...."

Rue sighs feeling sticky lips press against her clavicle and up her neck.

"Beep beep ghost busting in my,

Beep beep you want me riding in your....driving super fast."

Sol was cool people but Rue knew it couldn't be anything more than fooling around. Kissing when no one was watching or either of them came back from a therapy session sobbing. Sometimes Sol sneaking into her bed at night so they could have quickie sex sessions. This wasn't how Rue expected to explore her sexuality that was pretty dormant but it was what she had. It also wasn't with who she had in mind either. Lingering feelings aside the two of them were stuck in a juvenile inpatient program. With the same beds as the ones in college pamphlets, a no shoelace rule, and fuzzy socks ( that Rue secretly loves). This girl was like 3 inches shorter than Rue, dark skinned, neck tattoos and a short cut. Sol had been through so much more shit than Rue and it made her feel ungrateful. Ungrateful because at least she had a hard working mom who still loved her and hadn't abandoned all hope. Other people in the program who took it seriously though told her not to because her life sucked too.

Feeling Sol's lips on hers she kissed her back. She didn't feel anything but it must have felt amazing to Sol who deepened the kiss. The car swerved past what in Rue's mind had to be a pothole. Sol falls away further into her body clutching the fabric of her shirt and accidentally her chest. Rue hears Sol sigh and snaps her eyes open while Sol still kisses her. Rue grabs hold of the handle above the door and sits back up mumbling, what was that. She watches Sol roll her eyes and sit back into the tan seats.

"Oh FUCK," Bones yelled slowing the car down and pulling over. Bones had their black hair slicked all the way back and a cigarette falling out of their mouth. They were odd enough sober and everyone's dd, just a ball of chaotic a.d.d they'd laughed at her earlier as they walked her from the gas station bathroom back to the car. It was a nice gesture because apparently she seemed "kind of uncomfortable," which was true. The urge to escape herself dulled the fear of her mother's true unbridled anger. Or Fez's.

He was really upset when he found out she got a new plug after actually being clean for so long. She turns to look out the back window and sees two green eyes attached to a small grey mound in the road.

"What the....omg a cat omg," Angel is practically bouncing out of the car after pulling out a half eaten filet o fish. Rue watches him in an outfit she felt fit him so much more than the basic t-shirt and sweatpants he wore everyday. His platform sneakers lit up across the black asphalt as he inches closer to the obviously terrified animal. A glitter covered arm wove in front of him with food and Rue leans into the window in anticipation. The only thing that could make Angel seem even more angelic was wings or a halo above his half platinum half silver hair. He honestly seemed like the type to fit right into Jules's friend group. But instead he was the kind creative rave kid who drew her pictures of kandy he'd give her one day.

"Hey um...you ," she feels her shoulder being tapped. "Put this in your lap."

PART 2

"Yes! I love this song," Bones yells back rolling down the windows. The cool autumn air filling the car and the smell of weed being blown out the window.

Her heel is bouncing with a mix of anxiety and anticipation. With one more she could become triple A instead of alcoholics anonymous. She can feel a comfortable softness against her sole. It's from a piece of fabric she keeps stuffed in her sock. Her knee keeps bouncing in place with the sleeping kitten being stroked by Sol in her lap. Her current reality is so much more serene than the one she relives in her head.

Arrival nurses took her hoodie at this new place only letting it stay with her the first night. She was so fucking high on check in that she screamed please don't take my dad please as they explained it to her mom. Her mom who she clung to like they were about to skin her alive. Chest rising and falling quick enough someone said something about a shot. Too high to be cold and distant but not enough for her heart to stop. Just enough to be a paranoid fuck up. Leslie tried to calm her down but it only worked after her mom bargained with them, one night.

One night and then her mom visited the next day to say goodbye. Slipping a gray square in her pocket. It was worn in from a t-shirt that her dad wore in her baby pictures. Leslie hugged her so tight before leaving whispering we love you so much. That was the last time she'd seen her mom and every time she called Leslie said oh rue like her heart was breaking again. So those phone calls were short because her mom crying always fucks her up mentally for a few days. The silent pauses remind her of the little sister who always has faith in her but is turning into someone who doesn't even look at her.

"You okay," Sol whispers and rue nods because when was she ever. Her arm that sol is resting on is cramping but she lets it, not much arm space in this back row anyway. She should have just chosen the trunk with some 16 year old named Zach.

"On the left yesss we made it and on time too," Graham jeers next to Sol.

Rue looks at the dash clock crinoline her brow. "How is almost 1 am on time," she whispers.

Sol chuckles, "It is a club not a house party you knew that right ?" Rue bites the inside of her lip and shakes her head no. Sol puckers a bottom lip and kisses her cheek. Great pity Rue thinks. Sol leans in to whisper to Rue, "Don't worry Graham knows the bouncer. No fakes required."

Rue opens back up the glass bottle in the seat net and lets the clear liquid burn her throat a bit. Out of her realm was an understatement, house parties were something she was used to but never clubs. She didn't even know what kind of club this was but judging from the giant rainbow flag out front, angry repressed frat bros wouldn't be an issue. Which helped the nerves in her stomach unwind. The fur ball on her lap made a noise and she rubbed it through the sweater it's been laid on. Sol said the kitten was probably dumped because there was a tag scar and the kitten was super clean. But was she risking it....no.

Sol takes the bottle from her hand and screws the cap back on. "You gonna dance with me tonight Benny." Sol says as she nudges her shoulder.

"Maybe," Rue shrugs.

" Okay well how about anyone else," Sol grins coyly.

Rue looks away from her and out the window. She's more interested in the brick building as they get closer than someone's hot sweaty body. There's a line to the door with several guards standing with gloved hands and flashlights. " Idk maybe," Rue looks back at Sol who is rolling her eyes.

" Yes she is," Angel yells from the passenger seat. He's checking his makeup in the mirror and winks at rue. Which makes her tuck her hair behind her ear and cough to cover the blush. Angel turns around happily and says, "meee.'

Leaning forward Sol pecks Angel and says, " Bennett your goal tonight is to have fun, dance with someone. He, she, they, who cares, maybe you'll get a lil prison pen pal."

Rue rolls her eyes, that probably wasn't happening but it was about trying new experiences. Treatment was also not prison; it just was not freedom either. Bones pulls past the entrance and swings into the parking lot. Graham is behind them pointing as they follow directions. He's even saying fun facts like this is Knott's which Angel keeps mimicking. Bones slowly moves the car until one guard leans his hand in the window. The guard daps Graham up and they laugh for a second. His name is apparently DJ and he's their in. The only rules are no weapons.

In the parking lot they all get put and Rue notices other cars with clusters of people around them. She shakes her lap free of cigarette ash and cat hair. The cat now named sparkle is being in the trunk with a makeshift bed, a small can of tuna Bones just had and an old bottle lid filled with water. Rue leans down and ties the mismatched dollar store laces on her chucks. They had hot dogs on them which was kind of cute. A tire squeals close by of a car obviously moving way too fast and drunk singing out a window speeds past them. Idiots. Everyone else was finishing a shared bottle or blunt. Leaning against the side of the trunk she feels Sol rest against her arm warming it up.

Rue can hear a steady thump and beat coming from the brick building. It makes her head move which means the music might not be her thing but it'll be tolerable. Graham even said there's another section with actual seats that has a more contained dance floor with pop and hip-hop. Just in case she got overwhelmed by the rave scene and the lights. She doubles over as she laughs at Angel's jokes.

Kid was fucking hilarious, she stands up wiping her eyes and freezes looking in front of her.

#rue bennett #rue euphoria #jules vaughn #jules euphoria #original character #euphoria hbo #euphoria #euphoria fanfiction #euphoria fanfic #my wriitng #fanfiction #club tw #rue #jules #rue x jules

11 notes · View notes

surveys-at-your-service · 4 years ago

Text

Survey #313

“i’m your turbo lover / tell me there’s no other”

Where are you located at this moment? In my bed. What if you found out your ex was having a child with someone else? If it was Sara, I'm finding out who the fuck I'm flying up there to punch his face in. If it was Jason, I'd either faint or be in the bathroom vomiting. Or both. I can almost promise you at least one or the other while I have an absolute emotional breakdown. I'm not at the point in my recovery where I can hear that and be entirely okay. I'd be happy for any of the others. At what age do you think you'll be ready to have children? Never. When was the last time you couldn't stop laughing? Why? I don't recall. Which of your friends do your parents get along best with? I guess Girt, since he's known my mom the longest of the friends I still have. I don't know about Dad; he barely knows any of my friends seeing as I don't live with him and see him rarely. Is there anyone in your friendship group that your parents don't like? No. Can you recall the last time you were extremely disappointed? I surprisingly can't remember, even though I know it was recent. Who was the last person to un-friend you on Facebook? I don't know, it's not like I go hunting people down if I notice the number has dropped, lol. Do you know why he/she decided to un-friend you? I'm certain it would've been something political. Are there any food wrappings, boxes, containers etc. in your room? No. Do you know anyone who does have cancer? I don't think anyone who currently has it, no. I may know someone via association, but idk. What is the worst medicine you've ever taken? There are two that very strongly stand out: the first one was in middle school, and the second sometime last year. I was put on an antidepressant that made me absolutely love life in the morning, like I would practically prance through school, but come afternoon, I was a fucking demon. Mom took me off that shit so fast. Most recently, my birth control was changed to have more estrogen for some reason I can't recall (maybe it had to do with mood?? idk), and it made me... I'm just gonna say I was a ~mess~. I slammed on breaks with it so fuckin fast. Safe to say I returned to my normal pill. Has your house or where you stayed ever flooded? My childhood home came very close during Hurricane Floyd. Thankfully the water never got actually inside the house, but it was an absolute lake outside. What was the last event or special occasion you participated in? My niece's birthday was actually a couple days ago, so we celebrated at my sister's house. What do you find yourself reminiscing about the most? I'll give you one guess. Do you have a favorite pianist? No. Song you listened to last is...? I have "Turbo Lover" by Judas Priest on right now. What's the last type of cookie you ate? Uhhh I would assume chocolate chip. Do you have your own computer? I have my own laptop, and I'm possibly getting an actual computer come May?? One of my WoW friends knows the hell I've been through with this laptop, and she and her husband are getting new computers then, so she's basically pushed her husband's old one on me, lol. Apparently it works just fine, he just wants something better. I've told her again and again to make some money off of it, but she's pretty much giving me no choice lmao. I appreciate it a whole lot, though. It'd be pretty nice to separate games onto an actual, capable desktop versus making my laptop sound like it's screaming for God's mercy if I boot something up. Describe your computer chair? I don't have one. Well, there's an old one in the extra room I'm going to end up using, but all I know is it's black. I've never paid closer attention to it. Do you sleep with your door open or closed? Open. I feel too isolated with it closed. Are you going to keep your last name when you get married? God no, it's very unlikely. I hate my last name, take it away. Does it bother you when people beg? Why are they begging, and how insistently? It depends. Do you have any weird rings? I have two, but neither I consider weird, at least. Well, I suppose the one with "bitch" carved on the inside would confuse non-Supernatural fans, haha. Are you anything like your siblings? Not really, no. At least, my two immediate sisters. Mom says I'm extremely similar to her eldest daughter though and wishes we'd talk more, but yeah, I just don't have anything to talk about with her. I'm so bad at initiating conversation. When was the last time you shaved your legs? October for when I was doing that witchy photoshoot with a friend. I absolutely hate shaving my legs and pretty much only do if anyone else whose opinion would affect me may see them. What would be the best surprise you could receive right now? Uhhh I guess all the "upgrades" I want to make to Venus' enclosure: a 40g tank and a nice, accurate hygrometer and thermometer, as well as the proper kind of lamp for her. I feel like such a "bad snake mom" still having her in her current terrarium because, while it's perfectly liveable and not dangerous, it's too small for her. It's pretty much always on my mind to some degree nowadays, so just like, dropping the terrarium and extra tools off would be a massive weight off my shoulders. Did you ever skip a grade or get held back a grade? No, but I was able to skip the intro Writing course the last time I was in college; I just started in Writing II. Who took your profile pic? Anywhere where it's a picture of myself, odds are me. I hate getting pictures taken, but if it's gonna happen, it'll be through myself, knowing my "good" angle and such, lol. Have you ever been fishing? Do you know anyone who likes fishing as a hobby? I've been fishing many times, especially as a kid with my dad. There are pleeeenty of people I know who enjoy it. I don't anymore. Do you own any cats? What color are their eyes? Yes; his are a light blue. Is there a rose bush in your garden? What color are its roses? We don't have a garden. When was the last time you spent over $100 in one transaction? What did you buy? Over $100 with my own cash, a plane ticket. My recent tattoo deposit was exactly a hundred. Do you sleep with a stuffed animal? Would you judge a grown adult for doing so? No; Roman would NEVER allow me to cuddle anything else, and I am not even remotely kidding. I couldn't care less if any adult does, though. Would you rather read an erotic novel or watch an erotic film? Ew, neither, but I guess a book would be better just so my eyes weren't forever scarred. What’s your favorite way to make your home smell good? Do you spend a lot of money on making this happen? INCENSE!!!! God, I love incense burners. I don't light it anymore though because Venus' terrarium is also in my room, and it's not good for snakes. What are the main two colors in the room you’re currently in? Did you pick these colors out yourself? Just... white. That's it. Well, my furniture is brown. I didn't pick either. How often do you wake up in the night needing to pee? Usually once, sometimes not at all anymore. I guess my bladder actually grew a pair. If you live in a household with pets, who is responsible for their care - both in terms of finance and the physical tasks involved? As far as the physical care, me. Mom does help me do a full clean of Venus' cage sometimes, though, because I don't trust myself to both keep her around my neck while I scrub the tank, hide, bowl, etc., with a cat that is my absolute shadow. I don't want to be bent over the tub and Roman tries to do something; he's shown very little interest in Venus, but still, I'm one hell of a paranoid snake mom that doesn't want to risk her life. Full cleans only happen like twice a year, so I don't mind too much asking my mother for some help. I should point out that Mom doesn't want to hold her, so we can't reverse roles. Do you have anything hanging from your ceiling apart from lights? Not anymore, no. At my old house and the one before, I had lots of Pyramid Head gift tags hanging, but our landlord doesn't want me to do that here. Would you describe yourself as neat, messy or somewhere in-between? I'm in-between. If you have pets, when was the last time one of them needed to go the vets? Venus had to go to the vet about a year into me having her because she was showing symptoms of an RI in strange breathing episodes, which can be fatal to a snake. Thank God, nature, whatever, that she didn't. There were warning signs, but closer watch over her humidity saved her. Roman, meanwhile, was taken to the vet like a year ago to be neutered. When the pandemic is over, what is one thing you can’t wait to do again? I barely ever left the house beforehand, so... I guess go to the movies. What’s one thing (aside from essentials) that you spend the most money on each month? Has anyone ever told you you’re obsessed or addicted with it? N/A What’s your favourite genre of TV show to watch? What’s your favourite show that’s not from that genre? If I had to pick, uhhh... yeah, idk, due to the whole "not into TV much to begin with" thing. Would you rather be employed or self-employed? Why? Self-employed, though taking care of all business matters yourself is/would suck. I just really want to be my own boss for the sake of photographing whatever I want. IIs your hair naturally curly, straight or somewhere in between? Do you wish it was different? It's straight, but on the wavy side, and I wish it wasn't. Do you ever play online games with your friends? Which one(s)? Just WoW. In the last week, have you had any alcoholic beverages? Which? No. Do you ever wear accessories in your hair? Which ones? No. Do you feel free to post your views on social media? Yep. I honestly don't care who it pisses off. What is your favorite work of historical fiction? Well, I don't really know what you consider truly "historical" in age... That, and I'm bad at dates to begin with. There are lots and lots of older books and movies I adore, though. Old Yeller is one of my favorite books ever, for one. The Boy In The Striped Pajamas makes me sob, too. What cartoon character looks like you? I remember when Hotel Transylvania came out, my ex's mob pointed out how much she thought I looked like the daughter, especially when my hair was dyed black. Do you have hope for the future? Some days I do, some days I don't. Do you believe in yourself? Ehhhh... debatable, idk. Do you have trouble letting go of your past? Oh yes. Were you happy in high school? It's funny, I was very depressed in HS, but due to Jason and friends, it's one of my most cherished time periods. Were you ever a teacher's favorite? I mean it modestly, but I was almost always pretty obviously one of the teachers' favorites. I was a good student. Are you popular? I wasn't. If you won a title in the senior class polls, what was it? I didn't. Have you ever had a medical condition that made you unable to work? My social anxiety is so debilitating that it's made it questionable. It ruined my very short-lived previous jobs. What makes your life worth living? My future goals, family, friends... What is your favorite Bible verse? I don't have one. List five careers you've considered. Paleontologist, vet, game designer, author, and wildlife biologist are all past ones. Do you have any unusual talents? If so, what? No. What do you get compliments on? My hair and my art, mostly. What have people told you you should be? I've heard "a vet" most in my life. What is holding you back? My (mostly social) anxiety and extreme fear of judgment. Do you have anyone purely evil in your life? Hell no, I wouldn't allow that person to stay in my life. Have you ever felt threatened for your life? I've felt scared for it, yes. While riding my bike once, I ran into a guy in my old neighborhood who had a criminal history, including assault, just asking what I was listening to on my iPod. I stopped because I was scared to keep going, and he wound up asking for my Facebook, but guess who didn't accept THAT friend request. List ten positive words that describe you. That's too much thinking, man. List ten negative words that [you feel] describe you. And that's too much negativity to fish in. Are you a good person or a bad person? I mean, I try to be a good one. Have you ever contemplated being a bad person? I've done bad things, but I've certainly never deliberated tried to be an overall bad person. Have you ever resorted to vandalism because you didn't have a voice? No. Have you ever egged someone's house? Wow, no. Do you want to egg someone's house? Also no because I'm a fucking adult. Have you ever seen a piece of graffiti that you are thankful for? What an odd question. I mean, no? Name three people who hurt you and didn't care. I am quite positive Colleen doesn't care about the many times she did considering she's always right. Was your first crush sexual, or no? No, I was just a kid. What would you do if you got pregnant right now? I honestly can't say I know. If I was God forbid raped, I'd probably have an abortion because I psychologically could not handle that without being scarred for life. If it was by my own stupidity, I feel I'd probably have the baby but give it up for adoption. I just can't raise a kid. Do you have a medical condition that you are embarrassed or ashamed to tell people you have? No, I don't think so. What do you get asked the most? Hm. OH, WAIT, THAT'S EASY. I get asked a lot if my lip piercing hurt. Have you ever stood up for someone else who was being bullied? I know I have before, but I don't remember the occasion. What tragic news stories that you've heard has touched you the most? Man, that's a lot to think about. You see news articles on Facebook all the time, and a whole lot of them touch me, so I dunno. What is your favorite thing to order at Taco Bell? I like the cheese quesadillas, and whatever those cinnamon bites are called are really good. I'm still tilted they got rid of the fiesta potatoes, because I adored those. Where do you have cutting scars (if you have any)? I only ever had them on my wrist, but you can't see them anymore. Do you like cotton candy? Not very, but I mean, I can have a bite or two. It's way too sweet to eat a lot of it. What's the best piece of graffiti you've ever seen? I'm unsure, but I've definitely seen beautiful work, especially online. Do you like tattoos? "Like" is a colossal understatement. Do you like piercings? Yep yep yep. Have you ever made someone so mad that they broke something? No. Those are not people I hang around with. Who is the last person you slow-danced with? Slow-danced? I don't think I've done that since Jason.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''turbo lover'' by judas priest

2 notes · View notes