#but I can’t do that when I’m the middle of a fucking meltdown

[gestippeldedieseltreinworm]

Nothing like starting the day with a fucking meltdown 🙃

[janeyseymour]

Love Thy Neighbor- pt 9

Summary: Ellie finds out about the two of you.

WC: ~2.2k

Ellie still doesn’t know about your relationship with Melissa. It’s not like much has changed since entering this relationship with the redheaded woman that lives across the hall. She still comes over almost every night, the two of you cook dinner, cuddle with Ellie on the couch before putting her to bed, and then you stay up and have another glass of wine together. Occasionally, she spends the night, but she sneaks out early enough that Ellie doesn’t see, and you’ve avoided your daughter’s meltdowns since that first night that she caught the two of you asleep in bed without her.

But it’s getting to a point where you think maybe you should tell her. Especially when Melissa casually brings up the fact that her lease is ending soon. 

“Yeah,” she says quietly as she thumbs through her mail. “And my rent is going up… asshole landlord hasn’t upped my rent in six years, and here we are.”

You frown at that. “What have you been paying?”

“Less than you,” she snorts.

“By how much?”

“You pay what?”

“Upwards of two grand,” you sigh. “Why do you think I still DoorDash occasionally?”

“Hun,” she sighs.

“I have to make it all work… and Jared is so behind on child support right now,” you roll your eyes. “I’m about to lawyer up again.”

“You know I have a guy,” she tells you. “And I ain’t paying that. I’m paying like eleven hundred a month.”

“What the fuck?” your eyes nearly bulge out of your head.

“An’ he’s still only raising my rent to sixteen hundred,” she says. “But that’s way cheaper than the shit that you’re paying… he’s practically robbing you. Should just move in with me, and we can split it.”

“What?” you raise a brow.

She shrugs. “We practically live together anyway. It’d make sense.”

You hum thoughtfully before turning in her arms. She isn’t wrong, in all actuality. But making it official and moving in with her would mean… you shrug and settle against her to finish the movie that you’re in the middle of watching while you grade papers and she goes through her mail.

“I’m not sayin’ you have to make any big choices or anything, and I know your lease don’ end for another four months, but give it some thought.”

That’s the end of that conversation, and you curl into her once you’re done grading. Her arm is draped lazily around you, settling on your thigh.

Melissa ends up renewing her lease, grumbling about the increase in her rent- although you remind her that she can’t really complain when she’s still paying half a grand less than you. The next two months fly by, and then you really do have to start considering Melissa’s offer of moving in with her and splitting the rent.

You’re laying together in bed one night when you broach the subject hesitantly.

“My lease is ending in two months,” you say softly.

She turns to look at you. “Yeah.”

“And my rent is going up too,” you sigh. “I really don’t know if I can afford to stay in this complex.”

“Just move in with me,” she says without hesitation. “I already told you that.”

You smile softly. “I didn’t know if you meant it or not though.”

“Course I did,” the redhead chuckles. “I meant it two months ago, and I mean it now. We practically live together as it is; don’ make sense that we’re both shelling out a shit ton of money to just end up in bed together at night.”

“I mean, Ellie still doesn’t know.”

Melissa sighs at that. “Yeah. I’ve been thinking about that too. I think it’s time we tell her, although I do think that a part of her knows.”

“I do too, but… any time I bring up her father… you’ve seen how she reacts.”

“I do, and I’m usually the one she clings to after the initial meltdown,” Melissa tells you. “I think… that while it might be weird for her mother to have a new significant other, it’ll help soften the blow that it’s me.”

“Yeah,” you hum quietly. “I think you might be right. We’ll just have to introduce it to her slowly, and then… if she’s okay with it, we can bring up all moving in together.”

The next day, the two of you take Ellie out to the park after school. She’s all grins as she hands Melissa her backpack and races off towards the slide in the middle of the playground.

The two of you settle on one of the benches to keep your eyes on your little girl, and Melissa wraps an arm around you. Usually, the two of you wouldn’t do this anywhere but on your couch, her couch, or in your bed, but if you’re going to go public about your relationship, this might be an easy way to ease Ellie into it.

The redhead keeps her arm around you as the two of you chat about your days, and you settle a hand on her thigh. It’s warm, it’s comforting, it’s what you’re used to in the confines of your homes. And when your daughter yells over to get your attention as if the two of you haven’t been watching her run up the steps and slide down the slide for the last five minutes, she giggles when she sees how close the two of you are.

“Miss Mel! Take a video!” Ellie shouts from the top.

With her free arm, she fishes her phone out of her jacket pocket and points it towards the little one. 

“Okay, Ellie girl,” Melissa smiles. “Go ahead!”

As soon as your daughter’s beaming little face comes down to the bottom, she’s sprinting over to the two of you. Without any questions, she settles herself in both of your laps and grins.

“Can I see?”

She hands Ellie her phone and allows your daughter to watch with a grin. Your daughter giggles leaning up to kiss Melissa’s cheek. The redhead responds with a kiss to Ellie’s temple, and then one to yours.

Ellie looks over at you with the most curious face. “Why did Miss Mel just kiss your head like Daddy used to?”

You blush furiously, and you swallow around the lump in your throat. “Because… well, baby…” You don’t quite know how to say this.

“Because I love your momma,” Melissa cuts in gently.

“Well, duh,” Ellie giggles. “She loves you too.”

It’s clear that what Melissa was trying to get at goes right over Ellie’s head, and she looks to you.

“Miss Mel kissed my head because… Miss Mel and I are kind of in a relationship like the one Daddy and I were in,” you phrase awkwardly, not quite knowing how to explain this to the little girl sitting in your lap.

Ellie’s eyes go wide. “Wait, really? Girls can like like girls?”

“Yeah, sweetness,” you tell her gently. “And Miss Mel and I like each other in a romantic way.”

Ellie sits thoughtfully for a few seconds before shrugging. “That’s cool. I like like Anna, so…” then she breaks out into a grin. “Can we get ice cream?”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Why don’t you go run around a little more, and then I’ll consider it.”

The six year old leaps off of your laps before running over to the swings and starting to pump her legs. You watch her in wonder.

“I’d say that was easier than we thought it would be,” Melissa hums as she taps away at her phone.

“Yeah,” you hum. Then you purse your lips just slightly. “I think my daughter just came out to me at the age of six.”

“I think she did too,” Melissa chuckles as she continues to look at her phone. “At least she doesn’t have to worry about fear of rejection from her mother when she’s older.”

You chuckle softly before laying your head down on her shoulder. You glance down to see what your girlfriend is doing, and it turns out she’s adding the video of Ellie going down the slide to an album on her phone.

“What’s this?” you ask softly.

“Just an album where I keep pictures and videos of you and El,” Melissa tells you as if it’s nothing.

When you look at the album name, it’s labeled with a singular red heart.

“Oh?” you raise a brow and place your hand over your heart. It may be the fact that you’ve had a child, or the fact that you’re currently hormonal as hell, but your eyes well with tears.

“I look at it when I’m having a rough day with my kids,” she tells you. “It always makes my day a little brighter.”

“Can I see the pictures?”

Melissa hands you the phone, and you look through it. The contents make your heart so light. There are so many pictures of you just strumming your guitar or ukulele, a few videos of you singing as the sunlight hits your face nearly perfectly. And there are even more pictures and videos of your daughter- running around, singing her own little songs, hugging her, smiling brightly.

“I didn’t know you had half of these,” you whisper.

“I like to take pictures and videos when you guys don’t really know,” she shrugs. “Natural and beautiful.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you reply, but you do send a few pictures to yourself from her phone.

After Ellie runs around for a bit longer, you do give into your girl’s puppy dog eyes for ice cream. and you notice from your peripheral vision Melissa’s camera snapping pictures of both you and your daughter enjoying your ice cream.

And then the three of you head home, she makes you dinner, and you enjoy every bite of it. When you curl up on the couch, Ellie is immediately in your lap, and Melissa’s arm is around you, squeezing your hip gently.

You hand your remote to the little girl, but she just looks at you and your girlfriend. “I have questions.”

“About?”

You two.”

“Shoot,” Melissa says shortly.

“Do you and Momma kiss?” She nods. “Do you and Momma love each other?” Melissa nods again. “Are you gonna be like my second Momma?”

At that, you bite your lip, but the redhead takes this one. “Your momma and I love each other and everything, but we’re taking it slow and seeing where it takes us.”

Ellie nods thoughtfully. “Are we going to live together?”

“What makes you ask that?” you ask softly.

The six year old shrugs. “Don’t couples live together?”

“Sometimes,” Melissa tells her. “Maybe in time.”

“We all practically live together anyway,” your daughter says as she reaches for the remote that you set aside. She turns on her program and lounges against the two of you. “Let’s make one thing clear though, Momma: Miss Mel is still mine.”

“Hear that?” your girlfriend jostles you gently. “It’s me and El for life.”

“I suppose I have to make peace with the fact that my daughter is closer to my girlfriend than I am,” you sigh dramatically as you kiss both of their heads.

A bit later, you both take the little girl to bed and tuck her in. She practically begs for a story from your neighbor before she finally settles in for the night.

“Stay tonight?” you ask Melissa once you exit your daughter’s room. She pulls you in gently and pecks your lips.

“I’d love nothing more,” she sighs softly before leading you into the bedroom.

Once the two of you get situated, you exhale slowly. “So… I’m thinking maybe we should move in together?”

“Yeah?” She cranes her neck to look at you. “You moving to my place, or am I moving in here?”

“Well, since you already renewed your lease, and it would be way cheaper with your landlord situation… your place? It should be an easy move too- just across the hall.”

“I would be more than happy to have the two of you join me,” Melissa smiles. “You know I use my second bedroom for storage mostly anyway- for shit I don’t need anymore but hold onto… it’ll force me to get rid of some of it.”

“Really?” you ask.

“For the two of you? It’s no question,” she promises you as she kisses your temple again.

You snuggle up against her and drift off to sleep.

You wake up in her arms, thankful it’s a weekend for the two of you to sleep in while Ellie entertains herself playing dress up and having a tea party with her stuffed animals in her room.

The sunlight streams in through your curtains, and you spend a decent amount of time in a sleepy haze with your girlfriend. Only when you roll over to get out of bed do you look at your phone.

And there it is- the one thing that could throw everything you know in this new life for a loop: a text from your ex-husband.

I’m in Philly this weekend. We should talk.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for having a mental breakdown over my extremely close friend (accidentally) posting (what I thought was) radfem propaganda?

(🧵🎤for finding later)

It’s a very long story and I’m gonna have so many mixed opinions on this, so buckle up broskies.

I(X, minor) had met 👑(F, at least 4 years older than me) 2 months ago after a close friend of her was exposed as a pedophile. Coincidentally, that same pedophile had spread lies about me being a sociopathic asshole a few months ago, so me and 👑 grew extremely close because of both the aforementioned pedo and also because we shared a favorite manga, and we quickly started talking everyday about our favorite characters from the manga.

Due to our close friendship, I educated 👑 about BPD (a disorder I myself have, this is important), genderfluidity, and radical feminism. And apparently, I should’ve educated 👑 a little more about radical feminism.

Also due to our close friendship, 👑 opened up to me about a traumatic experience she had with her stepdad. This triggered me slight flashbacks to an extremely nasty and messy fight I had with an ex last year, but I didn’t want to seem like I was victim blaming, so I kept my mouth shut.

2~ weeks ago, 👑 posted about the “Man or Bear” question, and chose bear. She also brought up the traumatic experience her stepdad inflicted on her in the tags.

(I personally believe the “Man or Bear” question is radfem propaganda because when women choose bear, they always bring up a traumatic experience a man inflicted on them in some way. To me this sounds like they are saying that all men are misogynists that want to see women suffer, which is obviously not the case.)

When I saw the post, I was quite pissed. Eventually, I saw it another time, and I started having a meltdown. I was actually crying, impulsively vagueposting about her and the post, and eventually when I had to go to sleep I angrily messaged 👑 telling her about the mental breakdown accompanied by a middle finger emoji.

When I woke up and checked my notifications, I saw that 👑 had messaged me 4 times saying she’s sorry, that she didn’t mean ill towards men and that she had deleted the post (which she did, but that did barely anything to comfort me). I, still extremely pissed at 👑, told her about how pissed I was, that I trusted her but now I can’t, and that she should fuck off. 👑 replied by asking if there was anything she could do to regain my trust, so I, in the mood to just make it known that I was extremely pissed, told 👑 to go harass a radfem. And she did.

Later that day, me and 👑 had an important conversation about what had happened. I explained to her that I was holding a grudge against her since she told me about her trauma because it reminded me of the fight between me and my ex, and that I thought she was slowly making her trauma her personality. She understood, and she apologized.

Me and 👑 are now in much better terms, but I am extremely scared that I ruined her opinion on me and that she dislikes me now because she’s an extremely close friend of mine and I had opened up to her about everything bad in my life, and I threw it all away because I didn’t want to be reminded over something that happened a year ago.

TLDR; I held a grudge against my therapist friend for opening up to me about her trauma because I got flashbacks to a fight with an ex, then had a meltdown when she posted about the Man or Bear question, and now I don’t know what to do about our friendship.

[larryfanfiction]

Hockey Fics

🏒 The Smell of the Ice by ourownstrings @ourownstrings (3k, T)

Louis had loved the smell of the ice since she was little. Since the bottom of her driveway froze into a pond and she learned to skate by leaning on an old lawn chair – the enamel paint mixing with the ice shavings. She loved it up to the moment when the smell of ice was replaced by antiseptic and a doctor telling her to forget that hockey career. Until she’s offered an unlikely chance – cross training a figure skater who is trying to get back into the sport. If only Harry wasn’t such an ice queen. Inspired by The Cutting Edge. Written for the Girl Direction Winter Fic Fest 2020.

🏒 sensitive to pressure by momentofclarity @gaycousinlarry (4k, E)

Harry’s breath stutters on its way up his throat, his cheeks heating more with each step as Louis gets closer and Harry can’t move. Feet stuck to the carpet, heavy and unwilling, unable to shuffle away or take control, stuck in place and waiting.

🏒 On Thin Ice by Neondiamond @neondiamond (16k, E)

As the goaltender for one of the best hockey teams in the world, Harry never expected participating in his second winter Olympics would be so eventful. His hidden long-term relationship with the captain of their biggest rival team may have something to do with it.

🏒 i've got something to confess, i keep you in my pocket to use by babylwt (16k, E)

"You made Harry Styles practically swoon over you, admit you’re beautiful to basically the world, he asked for your number and you said no. Like, you have to be joking.” Bella tsks as she sits up straight, grabbing Louis’ computer off his lap and putting it off to the side. Louis moves to reach for it, sighing in defeat as he leans back against his pillows. “You know how it goes with those sports guys. They’re just after having a good time before they have to go to the next city and play another game and find another person to swoon.” Louis explains. “It just wouldn’t have worked and I’m too busy right now.” Louis shrugs. “Too busy to fuck Harry Styles?” Bella asks with a raised brow. “Yes, even too busy to fuck Harry Styles.” Or Prompt 251: Harry is a hockey player and he's in the middle of a press conference when Louis, a journalist, asks him a question. Harry sees him ans says something like "oh my god, he's so beautiful" to his teammate and only realized his mic was on when the pretty boy blushes and the room breaks in a laugh

🏒 On the Edge by zanni_scaramouche @zanniscaramouche (47k, E)

Figure skating is as vital to Louis’ identity as his DNA, so when his skates go missing right before the last Olympics of his career there may be a meltdown only vanilla bath salts can fix. Well, that and the stupidly charming hockey player he met on the plane. Harry’s too old to be the wonder kid and too young to be taken seriously in the NHL. As an alternate thrown in at the last second, he fights to prove himself on the national team at the largest sporting event known to man. Or he will, once he gets off this flight and can focus on something other than the fussy figure skater and his stunningly blue eyes. A baggage mix-up skews both of their perfectly laid plans for gold, forcing the two to work together as the clock clicks towards the minute they’re expected to shine on centre ice.

More Masterposts

[justamessedupdisneyprincess]

I need help, my life is now a living hell. (TW suicide attempt mention)

I know this is gonna annoy a lot of you for bitching and whining again but as of late my life has been really hard. I had to sell my soul and my life to a demon against my will. There is a toxic parasite I want to cut ties with but can’t. I am talking about a toxic family member who has no respect for boundaries and loves to judge and be rude to everyone around her.

I just really need some help rn guys because at this rate it really feels like I can either endure and sacrifice my sanity for as long as she lives or I could only ever end it via suicide. I have tried to do it twice while she was down and my mother has to hide away medication so I don’t overdose and sharp things such as knives and scissors when her new favourite person ever, her karen on steroids sister is here.

To paint a picture there is a story about when I was a baby with my cousin and toxic aunt. My toxic aunt would use grandma ( her mother) as a slave whenever she came to visit her grandson. “Now that you’re here I want you to do EVERYTHING for him while I go and bitch and whine about coffee and ask to see managers (I’m not joking. She literally does that. Saw it multiple times when she stays with us.). Whilst my Mom would offer to do fun activities with her and us, like go to the beach, etc. Because of this she enjoyed our company more than my toxic aunt who threw a tantrum over it. “You love my sister’s daughters more than my son!”. She got so pissed that she moved out of our place during a vacation. Mother offered to have my cousin and grandma to play in the pool with me and my sister whilst she helped my toxic aunt pack. She EXPLODED over that! Why? Idk. She then stormed into the house screaming and it woke baby me up and I was sobbing. Dad got mad and told her to get out and we had nothing to do with her until grandma died.

She hasn’t changed at all. Very toxic, always complaining and saying horrible things behind our backs. I had multiple extreme meltdowns when she came. She stayed for four whole months last year. One summer, one spring, one for every season. She has this rule too where only she is allowed to talk, all she does to complain and she gets weirdly excited when someone else is struggling…she loves to happily talk about others misfortunes and then she finds no joy in going to the beach and going out for lunch. Instead she complains constantly and it ruins the whole day. Mother told me she says the most horrible things about me behind my back too…which gets her upset but she puts up with it because she is going through a divorce. We put up with her rude behaviour out of pity. I understand how hard getting divorced is but it shouldn’t excuse…whatever the fuck she is doing to us. Mother and I got into extreme arguments because of her as well and we rarely fight. My toxic aunt turns my parents against me. I’m freaking out because she is going to come down again.

Last time she claimed to be more respectful of our boundaries. “We don’t have to do something every day, I’m ok to hang out by myself every now and then.” Then she guilt trips us by saying “I don’t know why I bother coming down here if I’m going to be alone.” Over me wanting to spend ONE fucking weekend alone with my mom out of an ENTIRE month of her hovering around us and never shutting up. She also loves to interrupt. I would be in the middle of saying something and she cuts in as if I’m worth nothing! Then I can’t even say anything because she never shuts up ever! Then when I am blessed with a moment of talking (usually because mother says Izzy has something to say) I get nervous about saying something she will judge me for!

She belittles every trigger of mine too. Once I used to like this cafe and she has this huge obsession with their muffins. I don’t go there anymore though because some mean teenage girls work there now and they have been openly rude to me two times when I visited. So rude I ended up crying once. I didn’t want to go back (keep in mind I have been bullied a lot as well, I have a huge fear of mean girls) My aunt gave me this huge lecture about it and tried to force me to go in just so she can get her muffins. I felt completely shattered as she gave me a hard time over it. In the end mother figured out her angle and just dropped her off there whilst I waited in the car…for her to do that though about my own experiences and my triggers and not wanting to return to a cafe with rude service…it was just so insensitive.

She used to say rude things to me because of me displaying typical autistic traits like my weird eating habits and my special obsessions. Mother made her stop saying things to my face but she told me she just says judgemental things behind my back now and she gives me this god awful judgemental stare when we go out to eat…She also shows no respect for mental illnesses such as anxiety, saying it’s not real. She also once made fun of someone who committed suicide…which shows how she isn’t really a good person. She picks at Mom and gives her a hard time and openly judges her and says rude things to her and mother always bottles it and takes it out on me in the end because the one who HAD been rude to her is going through a divorce.

I never want to have to endure her abusive behaviour again but I’m completely powerless. I feel so hopeless. Idk what to do..

[rosenallies]

bring back drag racer au angst :(

I wrote this in entirety laying on my living room floor listening to phoebe bridgers </3

This is also the most projecty projecting in the world bc lowkey I don’t have a therapist rn which is crazy bc I was fully inpatient for over a month just 2 months ago lmfao <3 but lemme just get the feelings out <3

Tw/ s*icidal ideation and kinda SH

——

Really, Anetra should’ve seen it coming, the thoughts started off small and quiet, a mere whisper in her ear. She shook them off, pushing them away; she had no reason to be depressed, she had two loving partners, a career she loved, enough money to pay the bills and she felt that should be enough.

But it never was. As much as she tried to remind herself that she had no reason to be so fucking sad all the time, it never worked and the sadness still crept its way in, seizing her in its iron fisted grip.

Like every other time before, she tried to hide it, faking smiles and feigning having enough energy to pull herself out of bed in the morning. But soon enough, Sasha and Marcia’s usual easy smiles twitched when they looked at her, a pinch of worry in their faces as they watched Anetra slowly slip.

Then, the meltdowns started. Out of nowhere it seemed, Anetra would wake from a dead sleep, screaming and tugging on her hair, confessions leaving her lips like word vomit that made her partners’ chests ache painfully. Sasha would hold her, hoping the pressure from her arms looped around her would calm her down while Marcia spoke to her in their softest voice, sometimes even singing softly with misty tears in their eyes. Those nights always ended in Anetra passing out in the middle of the bed, salt streaks down her cheeks while Marcia and Sasha stayed up watching over her, whispering quietly how it’s the worst it’s ever been.

“Sweetheart,” Sasha said sadly over dinner one night as she watched Anetra push around food on the plate, avoiding taking a bite. She put her hand over Anetra’s and picked it up, pressing a kiss to the back of it. “You’re having a really hard time.”

Anetra wanted to laugh, shake it off and say she was fine but Sasha didn’t ask, she merely stated the truth. As if she even could hide it with a laugh in the first place with her oily unkempt hair, dark circles, nails bitten down to nothing, and tiny bruises dotting her arms from her pinching her skin just to make sure she could still feel.

“Yeah.” Anetra stated simply, a crack in her voice.

Marcia’s brows furrowed together. “We’re so worried about you. You’re really scaring us.”

A brief flash of anger burned through Anetra’s body, then quickly transformed itself into guilt just for the fact that her initial reaction was anger. Of course her partners were worried for her. She knew she was slipping away from them in every way possible, she felt it yet couldn’t manage to tether herself in place.

Sasha cleared her throat, making nerves bloom in Anetra’s belly. She squeezed her hand gently, silently reassuring her.

“I’m worried you’re not…” she paused, looking for the right word, “safe.”

Heart thumping in her chest, Anetra swallowed. “What do you mean safe? How could I not be safe.”

“Because darling, you-you,” choked up, Sasha stopped, closing her eyes tightly to stop the tears from flowing.

“Netra,” Marcia chimed in with their soft voice, “you’re hurting yourself, you’re not eating, you’re not getting out of bed, and-and last night you said some really scary things about -um, not wanting to be here.”

Anetra’s stomach twisted, she was thinking about it all the time, but had no recollection of letting that out of her brain where it remained safe and protected. It was one of the only things she swore to always keep to herself. The last thing she needed was for her partners to think she’s some kind of freak who just can’t get over her own tumultuous emotions enough to the point where she often wished she was dead. She felt her cheeks flush red, fighting to urge to pinch herself to see if maybe she’d wake up from this horrible nightmare.

“I-I didn’t know I said that,” she stammered.

Sasha nodded. “I didn’t think so, but you feel that way, don’t you?”

Tears welling in her eyes, Anetra nodded. “I do.”

“Oh, honey,” Sasha cooed, moving to kneel on the floor in front of Anetra’s chair. She took both of her hands gently, “why? Why do you want to-?”

“I-I don’t know, I just do. And I’m so tired, I just want to sleep forever.”

“No, no, no, don’t say that,” Marcia replied, now crying themselves.

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it, I don’t know why I feel this way.”

Sasha nodded. “That’s one of the reasons I’m scared you’re not safe. Marcia and I have been doing some research and talking to some doctors and they agree, as do we, that you might be safer in the hospital right now.”

Nausea hit Anetra in waves. “The hospital?”

“Yes, baby, we think you need a lot of support right now to be safe and it’s just irresponsible of us to think we can do that because we’re not professionals.”

Crying harder, Anetra shook her head. “No, no please!”

“Netra,” Marcia sniffled, kneeling next to Sasha, taking one of Anetra’s hands, “please.”

It was then that Anetra started to get worked up, breath coming out in shallow puffs and her whole body shaking like a leaf. “I-I can’t- I don’t need-“

“Baby, yes you do. Please l, do it for me and Marc. We need you safe, baby.”

Anetra continued to melt down, the same things from the night before slipping past her lips, proving even more so that she needed more support than either Sasha or Marcia could give. But in that moment, Sasha was too afraid she’d make herself sick.

“Ok, baby, it’s ok, we don’t have to go anywhere. How about we get you to bed?”

A few more outbursts and soothing touches from her partners, Anetra was calm enough and felt herself being lifted out of her chair. She barely registered that Sasha had carried her to bed, laying her down and cuddling around her frail body.

[us-the-voices-and-more-voices-2]

firestorm idea’s

feversick best idea ever (I feel anemic)

okay you know how firestorm usually is only Ronnie and stein?

what if mikhial (Russian guy from the firestorm 80s cannon) was also there?

And what if mikhial was also a linguist. I think it’d be interesting

also they are all kinda fused together they can change their form but that’s about it, when they split up they can’t be very far from each other or else they start dying.

also I’m aging up Ronnie to be 20, bc like then it’s not weird.

basically in this new cannon I’m proposing mikhial got kidnapped by anti-nuclear terrorists to translate, Ronnie was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and stein was manning the nuclear plant.

They get fused together as firestorm and promptly freak the fuck out because neither one of them is them anymore just this one guy and they are so confused.

Ronnie figures out transmutation by accident bc he can just.. see molecules now, stein is like “WHAT WAIT WAIT CHANGE THOSE AROUND” makes the fire into water, everyone is okay!

yay, but now these 3 guys are one guy and are so confused.

they fly up in the sky but yk they freak out.

firestorm mostly looks like Ronnie bc he’s the strongest of them all being Ex-football star, that’s why he was at the nuclear power plant he kinda just was going around since he was going to apply for a management position.

anyway they are in the sky super confused since they can all kinda see their hands and body but no one is exactly controlling it, it’s kinda a group effort and all that.

Ronnie is the first to speak out loud, and he just starts vigorously swearing. He basically just died and now he’s this fire guy???

mikhial also joins in and cries and swears as well and stein just starts sobbing.

firestorm is kinda just having a full on meltdown and mental breakdown, everyone inside is going through the 5 stages of grief since they LITERALLY DIED

and eventually they calm down enough to reassure themselves they aren’t dead and are alive and all that.

then they start screaming over being completely naked and having fire hair and also a weird ass core thing in the middle of themselves.

they get over that and just keep slightly sobbing.

stein is like “guys I know how to make clothes for us!” They make clothes that are radiation proof.

Ronnie brings up that his dad probably thinks he’s dead and they all panic

and Ronnie takes over firestorm for a bit, and heads home. He also thinks this is a bad idea and all that and kinda wishes they were separate. Then all of a sudden in a blink of red and orange light all three are separated again.

they instantly became nauseous and feel like shit but they are ALIVE AND SEPARATE PEOPLE YA-HOO!

Ronnie’s dad opens the door to 2 forty something’s and his son, he hugs his son and questions the 2 completely random strangers.

Ronnie steps in and says “these are the guys who saved my life and also offered me a job” wink wink nudge nudge.

they collaborate the story and Ronnie’s dad invites them in, they have a wonderful time and stein and mikhial go to leave but suddenly feel like their entire beings are being torn asunder at the seems and stop their way out and ask Ronnie to come with. Ronnie feels the same feelings and literally feels like he would DIE if they left without him follows him.

Ronnie’s dad reluctantly lets them go, since Ronnie lives alone and whatever these guys seem like good people and fast friends.

Ronnie, stein, and mikhial look at each other, and start talking after they are out of earshot.

“What was that. WHAT WAS THAT” “RONALD I DONT KNOW”

and mikhial is just having a panic attack, they all start hugging each other bc it feels nice and they accidentally form firestorm again.

they feel INSTANTLY BETTER, well rested and happy.

and just split apart again, they test what happens when they go apart and they start feeling incredibly weak and sickly again.

they do a few more tests and realize “oh fuck we can’t actually stay apart or we start dying.” They all start trying to think how the fuck are they supposed to work or do anything like this.

“So I think we should get a joint account”

“RONNIE!”

“No no, I think Ronald is right I think we should probably start living in the same house and going to the same workplace”

“I HAVE THINGS TO DO!”

“We all do but I don’t think we can live like we used to anymore, you know how it feels when we go apart!”

“Why are we holding hands, it makes me look like your son lol”

“Oh I didn’t even notice, your right why are we”

they try to not hold hands but it just feels better when they do

“Well okay now we look like weirdo’s”

“Mikhial! Don’t say that”

anyway they all end up crashing at Ronnie’s house since it was closest and also they had ZERO energy to deal with catching the subway to stein’s.

Ronnie’s place is very humble, it has a small kitchen, a couch, a tv, and one bedroom with a king sized bed.

they all look at each other and are like “no we are NOT sleeping in the same bed I will cry.”

Ronnie takes the bed, mikhial takes the couch and stein takes the floor in Ronnie’s bedroom.

mikhial actually hates being that far away and starts to feel sick again and just throws his hands in the air and sleeps on the floor in Ronnie’s room aswell.

the next morning - 2pm

they all wake up at the exact same time which was weird?

Ronnie checks the little digital clock he has on the bedside table and says to them all “hey so it’s 2:34pm do you guys have like work?”

mikhial looks at Ronnie and starts ranting in Russian and some other language Ronnie and stein can’t make out.

he grabs them all and they rush out the door still in their dirty clothes from yesterday as well as their shoes since yesterday was such a fucking disaster!

he fills them in that he had a important client coming in today, but was rudely interrupted yesterday when the terrorists kidnapped him.

Ronnie asks what in the world he does for work and he says “oh I’m actually a architect, but my firm would fire me if they caught me what’s it you kids say ‘slacking’ anyway we have to be there by 3pm or I’m getting fired”

stein asks “but aren’t you a linguist?” Mikhial laughs and says “yes yes, but I work at the firm because being a linguist does not pay me well, and I am out of linguistic work” he chuckles.

they all ask Ronnie if he has a car, he says yes but it’s really small a three seater. They all sigh in relief.

Ronnie grabs the keys and while holding stein’s hand rushes to the car.

he turns the keys and they are on their way, mikhial puts the directions in the gps and they all follow them.

mikhail tries to call his boss, but his phone is super broken.

Stein gives him his, and calls ahead.

it doesn’t go through and they all just hope they get there in time.

thankfully they are only 2 minutes late, mikhail rushes them all in.

the security guard is very concerned and confused, mikhail just says these are his friends and it’s okay they will play nice!

the firm is a very pretty building, there’s a glass staircase in the middle of the room with a elevator in the middle of it.

the whole place was made of glazed glass.

mikhail appears in his own office where his client is sitting, mikhial mumbles out a bunch of apologies and starts showing the client the new drafts.

”who.. are these people” the client says

stein and Ronnie are holding hands while mikhail is looking at the client “friends” he says.

the client is very confused but takes it, they talk for a couple hours.

Ronnie shows stein some memes, they catch up on the news, and play Tetris while they wait.

Eventually the meeting is done, and they all look at each other and sigh. “So, how are we going to make this work?” Mikhail says.

stein is like “oh yeah so everyone thinks I’m dead and you actually, they are also going on about this guy with fire hair?”

Ronnie facepalms “prof, we are the fire hair guy” “what” “yeah”

anyway stein ends up selling his apartment, and making a joint account with Ronnie and mikhail since he’s technically dead. And he updates his Will so they can kinda fudge it and all that.

they all decide that Ronnie’s place is probably not going to cut it, and mikhail has a place and seeing as he’s the only one with a job they all kinda agree on that.

Everyone is SO confused by Ronnie and stein, like is Ronnie stein’s kid with abandonment issues or something? Why are stein and mikhail always holding hands and are inseparable?

Like they moved in together it’s weird, stein makes the claims he needs to revive his identity at some stage. And tries to do remote work 👨‍💻 fails a couple times and then realizes he can just be a nuclear physicist at home Facepalm and doesn’t need to do weird odd remote jobs.

Ronnie has been learning about nuclear physics because he cannot go anywhere without the other guys.

and starts online school, they also form firestorm in between everything. Accidentally beat up green lantern, set a couple places on fire by accident, and get inducted to the justice league somehow.

and manage to have a semi normal life, until one day on a justice league mission.

they get split apart and promptly freak the fuck out, stein gets kidnapped and they all instantly start dying.

Batman, and Superman literally gape at the scene and cannot believe their eyes.

Ronnie and mikhail try to fork firestorm but they make a weird half firestorm and start going to grab stein.

Still in shock Superman goes after the villain who has stein.

stein almost dies they grab him and firestorm is complete again and they sigh in shear relief.

the justice league is super confused by the development but the boys finally just let down their guard to the rest of the league.

they kinda can’t believe that firestorm is actually three guys.

they ask for a salary bc they cannot afford to miss their work they live literally paycheck to paycheck.

they are like “nah” they insist on a salary. They get it the second time.

stein and mikhail learn about Ronnie’s dad being beyond abusive and horrible and kinda step in as Ronnie’s dad’s bc they already live together why the fuck not?

anyway a lot of crazy shit keeps happening, duplex tries to kill them way too many times. They become best buddies with plastic man booster gold and blue beetle (jamie)

Ronnie gets a job as a journalist, stein is able to get back to his work, and Mikhail gets to work as a linguist with the justice league.

They also die a few times, and accidentally fuse with a few other people, go on a legion arc, almost die again and the cycle continues

prev | current | next

[jj-maybanks-daughter]

Panic

Y/n came home from school and stormed off to her room. john b let jj maybank, her dad know how’s she’s been off. jj found his lighter in her room, after she tried to use it for sh. jj found out when she had a panic attack.

warnings

sh, panic attacks, cursing, terrible writing

“hey kid,” your uncle jb said as you slumped through the door dropping all of your school stuff as soon as you came in. 

you walked right past him to your bedroom and shut the door, loudly. 

“damn, somebody’s in a mood,” he joked with her, he got no response. he repeated what he just said, but to himself. 

a bout thirty minutes went by, your body was aching to feel something. you didn’t care what it was, but it needed something. 

sh was like a drug to y/n. nobody knew about it, she made sure to keep it secretive, even though she knew the pogues could help. it’s like a comfort thing, something she can control, unlike the million things that she can’t. 

she opened her door quiet enough for john b not to notice, she had gotten pretty good at that. she tiptoed into the kitchen, where she knew her dads lighter would be. 

she snatched it, and went as carefully back to her room as she did coming out. she sighed of relief, needing this all day.

she slumped on her floor, leaning against the wall behind her, and pulled her pants down, to reach the spot she always hit. 

she did it on tge middle part of her thighs, convinced no one would do it. she started to light it, but it didn’t work. she tried around 15 times more, before having a meltdown. 

other pov

“hey, john b have you seen my lighter?” jj asked as he walked through the sliding door.

“nah, where was it”

“kitchen table.”

“i saw y/n walk in there, maybe she’s seen it.”

y/n didn’t know john b saw her.

a few seconds later, they heard a wail, coming from your room. not of pain, but of frustration.  “FUCK” came after it 

“jeez, what’s wrong with her?” jj asked, wondering if john b knew. 

“man, i ask myself the same question everyday when she comes home from school.” 

“bro what-“ jj said giving him a confused look. “bro why didn’t you tell me, something could be wrong.” jj started running to his daughters room.

“y/n, can i come in?” he started twisting the handle, but it was locked. “kid, let me in” he yelled into the door.  he grabbed a pin from the floor to pick it when she opened the door. 

“what.” y/n said with an attitude, peeking open the door. 

“what happened, kid?” he asked looking concerned. 

she had to come up with a quick lie. “i um… stubbed my toe.” 

“well ok…l” he replied “have you seen my lighter?” 

jj opened the door to see what was happening in her room. he saw the lighter on her dresser and barged in. 

“what. the. HELL. is my lighter doing in your room.”

“jeez dad get out of my room!” she pushed him but he didn’t even stumble. 

“i’m not asking again, y/n.” he said, trying to keep his cool. 

“it doesn’t matter it’s out anyway. she replied shoving him out of the room, rolling her eyes.  he planted his feet and made sure his daughter couldn’t push him out. 

“y/n” he said sternly, “i’m not leaving until you tell me.”

“fine then i’ll leave.” she walked out and sat on the couch in the living room. “stop following me, GOD!” 

“watch your attitude young lady” john b said to her, defending his best friend.

she started shaking and she had a hard time breathing. “woah kid what’s wrong” john b asked. jj caught her and brought her to the floor, so she wouldn’t fall.

“what’s happening?” john b asked.

“panic attack, this happens a lot.” he rubbed her back and helped her catch her breath. “your ok, breath.” he counted in and out, a breathing exercise you do a lot.

he noticed the burn marks on her legs, his heart broke for her, but he wouldn’t say abyrhing about it now when she’s already in a bad state. 

y/n collected herself, knowing that her dad saw the burns on her legs, she pulled her shorts back over it. 

“hey kid…what’s going on?” jj said in a loving voice.

“it’s just…” y/n started crying.  “i don’t know im just stressed.” she said burying her head into her dads shoulder as he rubbed her back.

“we’re going to get you help, ok? i don’t want you doing this to yourself, babe. there’s other ways to deal with it. i wish you came to me before.” he said trying to keep strong but he couldn’t help but feel guilty for her actions. 

“ok… im sorry” 

“its ok, babe.” he said as john b joined their hug on the floor as she cried. 

“i don’t know why” she sobbed 

“i know baby, its ok” he said 

the next jj called a therapist, and let her skip school. she started going and felt better.

her aunts and uncles were happy to see their baby girl back to her normal self.

[jeongyeonluvr]

Hey!! I'm not sure if you're still active here, so if not, sorry. Can you write about Nd!Yuqi being ashamed of herself and Shuhua helping her with this? Also sorry for my bad English, and if you don't want to do it or can't do it, that's okay too

slamming doors

|| cg!Shuhua little/nd!Yuqi

•CW: anger issues, hitting pillow, swearing

i am active just a bit busy rn !! ur english is fine chickpea don’t worry

Yuqi furiously slams the door behind her. Frustrations are too quick to build these days, with work being so constantly demanding of her, both emotionally and physically, it gets harder and harder not to become upset.

She immediately storms to her room, and throws her belongings on the ground, in a fit of anger, belongings be damned. Yuqi stands in the middle of the room, angrily staring down at the ground. There are so many emotions swirling, not just the anger that’s so blatantly shown on her face.

She doesn’t want to acknowledge any of them, she just wants to seep in her anger, and be upset. Everything fades around her as she clenches her fists, climbs onto the very neatly made bed, and starts to hit at the pillows.

She practically sees red, as she sits there, mindlessly hitting the pillows as frustrated tears stream down her face. She’s let everything build and build without ever bringing attention to the way she feels. A bad habit she hasn’t been able to break yet.

Yuqi keeps hitting, even as her arms grow weary and tired. On one hand, all the rage boiling in her blood feels right. She wants to be angry forever, to never have to face her problems and just yell, and scream for the rest of all time. But on the other hand, she’s tired, her anger always leads to some sort of mass exhaustion. She lets out a shout, as her arms finally grow too tired to continue on. Yuqi hangs her head low, as she angrily wipes away the tears flowing down her face, as she sniffles. All the emotions she’s let bottle up inside for the past months, is finally coming to a crescendo. Before she can dissolve into a fit of sobs, there’s footsteps coming from the doorframe. 

Yuqi freezes, as her blood runs cold. She knows whos footsteps those are. 

“Yuqi-” Shuhua’s voice rings in the silence of the room. Her voice is a mix of concern, and comfort all at once. 

“Don’t.” Yuqi growls, her hands balling into fists for the second time tonight. Her head still hangs low, as she takes a shaky breath.

There’s more footsteps quickly approaching the bed, and the last thing Yuqi wants is Shuhua to be here while she’s having this... fit. This meltdown that’s simply been waiting to happen for months on end. She doesn’t want Shuhua to coddle her through this. To hold her, care for her... to make things better. No. She doesn’t need this, she doesn’t need Shuhua.

“I said don’t!” Yuqi yells, not daring to face the other woman in the room. There’s no way that she’s going to cooperate tonight. Not without a fight. 

“Yuqi, what is the matter?” Shuhua questions, moving closer to the bed. Yuqi can tell that she’s right behind her. Looming, waiting for an answer. 

Yuqi doesn’t have a witty, or snarky remark, so she goes for the simplest thing she can think of right now.

“Go away.” She mutters bitterly, crossing her arms in front of her chest, as she almost fully curls in on herself. She doesn’t want Shuhua to see her like this, to have to be here when her anger is so palpable, so seethingly coursing through her body to the point where she just can’t control it.

Having control over her emotions is a task that’s all too laborious at the moment. She hears Shuhua take a deep breath behind her, and somehow, it sets her off.

“I know I’m just a fucking nuisiance, so why don’t you just leave?!” She shouts, a bitter venom in her voice, part of her knows, that what she just said isn’t true, but the other half of her truly does believe it.

“Yuqi. If you know what’s good, you’ll let me help you.” Shuhua says softly, but there’s a sort of edge to her voice. An edge that makes Yuqi flinch.

“Why should I?” She challenges, finally turning around to face the other. She’s met with a fairly disheveled Shuhua. Her clothes are all wrinkled, the buttons of her blazer haphazardly buttoned up, some buttons even in the wrong place. Her hair is all messed up, and almost poofy from the humidity of the rain today. Her appearance is a stark contrast to the look on her face. 

“Yuqi-“ Shuhua starts again, but Yuqi interrupts before she can get another syllable out.  

“No. No, why should I listen? Why should I stop what I’m best at? Causing problems!” Emotions rise high, as Yuqi laughs bitterly. “Why would you ever want to help? You should just pack your shit and leave like Soojin did! There’s no fixing me. I’m done playing games, it’s stupid! It’s stupid and you know it.” She snaps, fists clenching so hard her nails are about to break the skin. 

She sees something akin to anger flash across Shuhua’s face. Finally. Something in her facade is about to break. Something other than Shuhua’s unconditional love, her tenderness, her care. Whatever’s about to occur, Yuqi is sure she’s ready for it.

“Listen to me dammit. I care about you alright? I care about you so much but you saying all this is so selfish. Do you know how much it hurts? It hurts to see this? It hurts when you shout at me like this, like I’ve done something wrong?” 

Oh. Oh no. 

There’s a sound akin to a sniffle. “I just want to help.”  

Yuqi doesn’t think she’s ever heard Shuhua sound so defeated. So beat down. Now her face truly matches her appearance. There’s barely any sounds coming from the room now. Yuqi feels trapped, until finally, another sniffle breaks the silence. And that’s when it all finally clicks. When Yuqi finally realized everything she’s said, it comes crashing down faster than she can process, she feels small. Everything she’s said…everything she’s done tonight. Shameful tears well up in her eyes, and not for the first time tonight, do tears roll down her face. 

“Shu.” She calls, so simple. She has to apologize, she has to make things right, right now. She can’t stand the murky feeling in the pit of her stomach anymore. All the rage has vanished, in favor of sadness, and shame instead.

“M’ sorry.” She says quietly. “M’ sorry, m’ sorry.” She whispers again. What else can she say? She doesn’t know how to express it in any other way. 

There’s a dip in the bed, and before she can look up, she feels Shuhua’s warm arms around her. She feels Shuhua’s shoulders shaking, a sure sign of crying, right now she can’t help but cry along with her. All these big emotions have taken so much out of her, especially her outburst. Now she just feels sad, and worn out.

She eventually feels Shuhua stop crying, and she hears soft, shushing noises. Yuqi feels enticed to quiet down, as the noise comforts her, and makes her feel sleepy all at once. After she calms down, Shuhua pulls back from the embrace, until they’re face to face.

“There you are.” Shuhua says with a familiar smile, “There’s my girl.” her eyes look red, no doubt Yuqi’s look the same, but there’s something strangely comforting about it, something Yuqi can’t quite place. Shuhua wipes her face, as she takes a deep breath. “Let’s get comfortable, and then we can talk, ok?” She asks, her voice a little wobbly, as she takes another few breaths.

Yuqi nods sleepily, as she feels Shuhua wipe her stray tears away. In no more than a few seconds, Shuhua is up, and gathering items. Yuqi’s eyes stay glued to her form, as she watches Shuhua go back and forth between drawers in all different places. When she gets back, there’s some pajamas, her stuffed puppy, and a pacifier, still in its case. Yuqi doesn’t say much, as she lets Shuhua move her around, and get her in pajamas. Eventually, Shuhua leaves the room. Yuqi whines, but focuses on her puppy, she plays for a bit, until she hears footsteps fast returning. 

“Time for baba honey.” Shuhua says softly. Yuqi perks up, as she tries to sit up, but everything is so heavy at the moment, it feels like she’s trying to lift weights, and there’s a thick fog clouding her senses. Shuhua quickly rushes over to help her up, as she gently holds her in her lap. “Open.” She whispers, and Yuqi does just that. The perfectly warm milk starts to make her even more sleepy, and her eyes all the more heavy. Once she finally finishes all of the bottle, Shuhua gently sets it aside on the nightstand. Shuhua hands Yuqi her puppy once more, and changes herself, and in a few moments, they’re tucked in bed. 

The lights are dim, providing a cozy, but quiet environment. That is, until Shuhua speaks up. “Yuqi, chick, what’s the matter?” She asks quietly, petting Yuqi’s hair waiting for a response. 

Yuqi, in a very young headspace, responds as best as she can. “Sad, and mad. I tired Shushu.” She says simply, hugging her puppy closer. 

Just like that, Shuhua seems to understand, and somehow, in some nonverbal way, Yuqi knows that. Shuhua snuggles up closer to the little one, as she wraps her arms around the girl, and begins to rock them gently.

“I’m sorry that things are really hard.” She starts, taking a breath. “But you know, no matter what happens, in this whole wide world, you can talk to me. Shushu will always, always help, and make things better for you. We’re a team, right honey?” 

Yuqi smiles, and nods, cuddling impossibly closer. As she smiles, she taps her cheek with her finger, knowing exactly what the gesture means.

“You want kisses?” Shuhua laughs earnestly, a noise Yuqi is very happy to hear. “How could I say no to that sweet little face.” She coos softly, pressing butterfly kisses to Yuqi’s face. She laughs, and gives her own kiss to Shuhua.

[jinxedshapeshifter]

Alright. My dumb ass decided I am attached enough to Shaun Murphy from The Good Doctor that I am defensive if I see anyone shittalking The Good Doctor SO HERE WE ARE

Medium/high support needs, especially in the context of Shaun’s past, does NOT mean “no job, can’t live on my own”

I have reasons I don’t live on my own. In fact here they are:

I need structure, something I can’t really provide myself with on my own. I’m not getting it currently either but that’s not my point

I have time blindness and executive dysfunction issues, both of which prevent me from functioning like a regular human being

There are probably other issues but I can’t think of any lol

I don’t have a job because I know for a fact I’d need a job in something that interests me, something Shaun clearly did. In fact, it’s clear from the beginning that Shaun has a special interest in either the human body or surgery specifically, something his savant syndrome makes clear.

There are reasons Shaun lives on his own, and lots of medium/high needs autistic people live on their own and suffer from burnout and don’t know when that burnout is going to end, which results in messy houses and apartments similar to Shaun’s because they don’t know how to handle their burnout. So let’s go over a few things. By the way I’m not going into production, I don’t think I ever will, I just want to discuss the issues I have with how people decide to criticize Shaun’s character because I don’t think people are being fair, and I also feel like people aren’t acknowledging Shaun’s past.

Shaun was abused as a kid; he and his brother were homeless for a while and living out of a bus because of this and eventually Shaun’s brother died, which left Shaun without the support he’d had for however long he’d had his brother around. He’s probably used to being on his own; I doubt he’d want to change that very fast.

Shaun is implied to have a special interest in either medicine or surgery; his brother gives him a toy/plastic surgical kit (a toy scalpel from which he can be seen stimming with occasionally) and he’s seen reading medical books in flashbacks. When he loses his brother, this motivates him to pursue surgery as his career.

Even just in the first few episodes, the hospital staff are trying to teach Shaun effective communication; that’s what residency is for, learning. As a resident you’re still considered a student. It’s not even like Shaun can’t necessarily effectively communicate in the first place; he just needed to learn social cues and bedside manners so he knew how to properly discuss surgery and test results with patients without scaring them.

Meltdowns and shutdowns are involuntary, and from what I’ve seen, other characters in the show do pretty well accommodating Shaun’s meltdowns, whether he’s working or not.

He’s not living in total squalor. The reason he has the bare minimum is because he just moved, at least at the start. Outside of that, he’s probably used to having the bare minimum, and it might just be what he’s comfortable with. Aside from that, he literally makes subtle improvements to his apartment as the series goes on. When his apartment is first shown, he’s sleeping on the floor. Next episode he has a mattress. Apartment is probably a studio apartment, which would explain why the mattress is in the middle of the floor. He’s not living in a total fucking mess lmao. Even if he did, there are people who live like that because that’s what they’re used to.

The medical diagrams that people view as “dramatizing autism”? That’s a visual representation of Shaun’s savant syndrome. Shaun has near photographic memory, and without those visual effects we would have no way of knowing what’s going through his mind as he’s examining scans, organs, and everything else, which is something that is INCREDIBLY important for us to know. It’s not a dramatization of autism, it’s a visual representation of Shaun’s photographic memory lmao.

Yes, Shaun has higher support needs. Yes, Shaun has issues that might make it harder for him to do his job. That doesn’t mean he can’t live on his own and that doesn’t mean he can’t be a successful surgeon; hell, he made an improvised one-way valve and saved a 10 year old’s life. He improvised keeping a liver healthy so it could be successfully donated. He improvised removing a kidney so a tumor could be removed, saving a woman’s life, and that’s not even a fraction of everything. Any hospital would be lucky to have a surgeon like him.

Also. Freddie Highmore does incredibly well playing Shaun. I feel like he very clearly did research and very possibly talked to autistic people about their experiences. He accurately portrays stimming, he accurately portrays a lack of social awareness, he accurately portrays meltdowns, he does so incredibly well and I love him for it. Like. I genuinely don’t get why people keep bringing up projects he worked on in the past, he’s an actor. That’s his job lmao. Outside of that, he produces it. Just figured I’d point that out because I would think that factors into how he portrays Shaun.

Communities aren’t a monolith. I’m not saying you, as an autistic person, can’t not like The Good Doctor, but you also shouldn’t be invalidating other autistic people who enjoy it or even relate to Shaun. You shouldn’t be turning Shaun’s meltdown about being suspended from his role in his department into a meme because it’s ableist to do so (you’re literally making fun of an autistic person’s meltdown. Imo it’s no different than those parents who post their autistic kids’ meltdowns online for laughs). You shouldn’t be claiming that individuals with higher support needs can’t live independently without living in squalor, because Shaun doesn’t live in squalor and most autistic people who live in squalor are suffering from autistic burnout because they were forced to mask for years because of shit like what I’m complaining about.

I shouldn’t feel like shit for liking The Good Doctor, just because some people in the community think it’s bad representation. I feel represented by it; I feel seen by it. I binged the first few episodes with my brother the other night and was smiling the entire time because for the first time in my life, I found a character who I could fully relate to. I saw myself in a TV show character. I saw a character whose behavior and mannerisms I could look at, and say “Hey, I do that!” or “that’s a whole mood lmao!” Yet I feel bad for enjoying it because so many people in the autistic community think it’s bad.

I’m getting tired of it honestly. You can enjoy what you want and voice your concerns on what you don’t like, but you shouldn’t be acting like your voice is the voice of the entire community and you shouldn’t be so opinionated and aggressive that members of your own community feel demonized for liking something you don’t like.

Liking something that has negative aspects to it, or is harmful, or something else, does not make you a bad person. I can relate to Shaun’s mannerisms and that draws me to The Good Doctor. There’s an episode (okay multiple episodes but I am thinking of a specific episode here) of House, MD that’s just medical malpractice, and I think we all know that if House did not exist in a medical drama he’d be getting slammed with malpractice lawsuits but nobody gets harassed to hell about enjoying House.

Yet so many autistic people are like “The Good Doctor is bad and if you like it you’re bad” and like??? It just makes me feel like shit???? Can I just watch my autistic doctor medical drama in peace without feeling alienated by my own community please

[codenamehazard]

.:Embers in the Forge:.

Chapter 19: Embers in the Forge

Hey guys!

This was also a chapter that gave me some grief trying to write out and sound right, but hopefully it does and everything looks and sounds good! Big thanks to @rogueshadeaux for helping me get my head on straight! I was really overthinking it. Everyone go check out InFAMOUS: Erosion! Especially the latest chapter! It's really good and you won't regret it!

Let's jump in!

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I lean my back against the wall of the workshop, music fills the room as Kestrel pulls out the tools and the cart that I had put the pieces of the Amp on. I’m thankful that she gave me permission to be here a few days ago when I asked her to fix it… Not that I needed it. Permission or not, I’m not letting the Amp out of my sight, not until she’s fixed and back slinged onto my backpack, but the permission makes it easier on the both of us. Besides, if she has any questions or I remember something that could be useful, I’m here to help

I watch as the silvery snakes grow from the spot in the middle of her back, the seat of all Conduits’ power, coiling and writhing like living vines 2… 3… 4 of them, maybe more. It’s still so fascinating to see power expression like that, and now that Kestrel wasn’t panicking over some cancer-tumor monster barreling into town ready to turn everyone into lunch, she’s much more relaxed, more in her element. It shows in how she moves, everything just flowing more naturally, she can take her time. I ain’t gonna rush her, I’m willing to give her all the time in the world to make sure the Amp is back in her prime.

However…

My mind flicks back to that day and the nuclear meltdown that was Pangolin verbally tearing into Kestrel like a rabid dog over the goddamned prototype. I don’t know how stubborn or idiotic the brain-dead buckethead is, but I wouldn’t put it past him to try and pull something stupid. Showing up to harass Kestrel while she’s working and like hell I’m going to let that walking liability fuck up her concentration, putting the Amp at risk of being damaged more because the bastard can’t leave well enough alone. Hopefully that idiot will be smart enough to read the sign she left for him out front and leave her alone.

My keen ears pick up the sound of thudding footsteps and the opening of a door, speak of the devil and he shall appear. Guess he’s as big of an idiot as I’m thinking of him now.

Pangolin steps in, his eyes looking around as he peeks in. I can feel my energy surge from the spot on my own back into my arms as I go on high alert. Pango’s eyes widen in fear as he sees me, good. He knows I’m here. I curl my scarred lips into a snarl as I notice him look at Kestrel, who has just turned around. He better not be thinking about doing what I think he’s going to do. If that bastard starts giving Kes shit, I will not hesitate to drag him outside for a good “talking to.” He approaches the Gunsmith, I’m about to step in and she’s about to say something, but he speaks before anything can happen.

“Kestrel… I’m sorry.”

We both stare at him with a look of shock (and my mind lets out a sigh of slight relief) at the sound of that, but Kestrel’s surprise is short lived as she narrows her eyes, the once relaxed and lifeful shine turning to something hardened and cold, like the very steel she could mold and shape.

“What…?” The Gunsmith questions with venom in her voice.

“Look…” Pangolin starts. “I’m sorry for… Riding your ass as hard as I’ve been when I should have been cutting you some slack.” Kestrel just shakes her head.

“That’s it?” She snaps, the Brick Spartan looks at her with a confused expression. “You think that you’re going to waltz into my shop like you own the place, apologize and then everything’s gonna go back to normal?” I watch her tendrils start to take on a biomechanical look as they darken into a wrought iron color.

“I get it Kestrel, I get it!” The brickheaded idiot blabbers out. “I got a little to in my emotions and I got carried away!” Carried away?! Is that what they’re calling it now?? The tendrils quickly move away from the Amp before twitching and writhing like enraged serpents.

“If you had “got it,” you would have read the sign!” She snarls out.

“He’s here and he’s barged in before!” Pangolin gestures towards me and I am about to deck him before Kestrel interrupts.

“I gave Cole permission, I revoked yours!” She hisses out. “Just cut the crap, Pangolin. Why are you here?”

“To apologize to you for how I’ve been treating you lately!” He balks out. 

“No, that’s not why. Because if you were truly sorry, you would have taken the fucking hint and not have barged in here. So I have to question, are you really sorry for what you did or are you just saying it because you oh-so suddenly remembered who was the one making the weapons for everyone? Huh?! You just apologizing to get back in my good graces so you can get your toy privileges back, hm?”

The fucker had the audacity to look shocked at Kestrel doubting his authenticity; guess what jackass, people tend to do that when you treat them like shit and start questioning their authenticity over petty bullshit.

“Kes, I-” The idiot is quickly cut off with a loud screeching hiss from the Gunsmith.

“Don’t call me that.” She snaps. “And I don’t want to hear any of your excuses, not a single one. All the things you snarled at me, holding a mistake over my head, calling me a child when I was in the middle of a fucking breakdown, accusing me of things you know damn well I didn’t do, all of that? You can’t take that back. Those words won’t be easily forgotten. Those wounds will scar and my trust in you is fractured. A pitiful little “I’m sorry” isn’t going to fucking cut it.”

“How else am I supposed to show that I’m genuine?” He questions, I resist the urge to facepalm.

“You can start by getting out and leaving me alone!!” The Gunsmith damn near roars at Pangolin. He has the nerve to look hurt, but thankfully for him, he takes the hint and leaves, but not before giving me a questioning glance. Tch, whatever. Kestrel sighs, sounding exhausted, before turning around and back to her workstation.

I let out a breath before going back to leaning on the wall, uncrossing my arms and popping my knuckles before turning my head toward Kes. I frown when I notice there is a little bit of a… “Hitch in her giddyup” as my cousin would have put it. Her movements, they have become more timid, hesitant even, and her eyes glance back at the door from time to time.

“This is stupid…” She mutters to herself. “I should just forgive him and get it over with….” My eyebrows furrow at that, now I know what’s going on. Doubt is infecting her thoughts, harshing her focus. Just as I feared Pangolin’s presence would do. She continues to ramble and mutter, going on about forgiveness and its virtue, but also how she’s hurting inside and debating on if she should forgive him at all. Almost on instinct, I blurt out.

“Don’t question your choice, Kes.”

I hold back a small chuckle as I see the girl jump as she turns around to look at me, her tendrils gently placing the parts and tools back on the table.

“What?” She questions, looking confused. “What brought that up?”

“Your movements and mutterings.” I state simply as I gesture with my hand. “Sounds like you’re doubting yourself.” She lets out a defeated sigh and slumps a bit, the tendrils losing their shine and wilting like plants.

“It’s… A mix of doubt and guilt…” She admits, looking at the scrap of the damned weapon that started all this mess in the first place, sitting in a crucible to be melted down. “The logical part of me wants to forgive this mess. The quickest way to put it behind us and get things back on track and back to normal. After all, it’s pointless to hold grudges and they end up being a waste of energy in the long run… But… I’m still so hurt… That he said all that to me…” She glares at the crucible before a tendril grabs it and shoves it into the forge.

“So does that mean you want that brick idiot to keep treating you like shit?” I ask, she looks at me like I’m crazy and shakes her head. “I don’t know if all of this is normal or not, but from what I've been seeing, he appears to be a bit too comfortable with how he’s been treating you to be a one-off thing.” She shakes her head.

“No… Normally he’s even keeled… He’s never treated me this badly before… At least, not that I can remember… This is all recent and I have no idea what’s gotten into him.” The Gunsmith picks up a small piece of smooth metal and starts to rub her thumb over it, looking down at it. “I don’t… I just don’t understand… I do want him to stop and just… Let me breathe.” I sigh and walk over to the table, pulling up a box and propping my foot up onto it, allowing myself to rest my weight on my knee.

“Regardless if this is old or new behavior, the result is still the same.” I point out. “He treated you poorly, held something over your head even though we had all promised to let it go and blamed you for something you didn’t do all because of a malfunction you had no control over.”

The look in her eyes tells me she’s still fighting with herself, I sigh softly. Maybe a little life experience might help her, seeing as Pangolin is her friend and all.

“Look… Kestrel…” I start slowly, trying to find the right tone before taking a breath. “The one who made the Amp? Me and him had a… Falling out… If you will…. He hurt me real bad and I wanted nothing to do with him… Didn’t stop him from trying to make it right.”

The girl tilts her head at me, but she stays silent, just as she did the night I asked her to repair the weapon in question…. “She’s listening to me….” My thoughts whisper in my mind. Trying not to show my surprise, I take her silence as permission to continue.

“Point is… It took me a long time for me to forgive him after what he did. Granted, I treated him like shit and I still regret that to this day… But at the time, I wasn’t ready to forgive him. I still needed to heal.” I murmur softly, my eyes cast downwards as I remember those bitter memories. “Forgiveness is a privilege, not a right, It’s up to you to decide when the privilege is earned.”

I can see her eyes darting as she processes the information before looking towards me.

“Why are you telling me this?” She questions. I take a moment to think. It is a good question. Why am I doing this? All I can do is shrug.

“Guess I wanted to give you some food for thought… Or maybe to let you know I get where you’re coming from.”

She narrows her eyes a little, but she shrugs before taking a deep breath and sighing. I can see in her eyes there’s something still bothering her, but she seems to be putting a pin in it for now.

“ Thanks…” She whispers softly. “For having my back…”

“Mmm.” I hum in response before nodding my head. I watch her stretch her arms and tendrils out before going back to working on the Amp. The tension now more relaxed and loose. I watch her as she works her magic.

I can’t help but to think to myself what a sight this is to watch, granted I have seen it before with me barging in when she was working on the core of the brickzooka, but this… This is something else entirely.

The tendrils shine with a renewed splendor as they move gracefully around. Every piece of the Amp is picked up with gentlest of grasps, akin to handling the most delicate of jewelry. Every action deliberate and methodical, purposeful. Her hands ghost over the remains with a touch analytical, yet respectful. Both hand and tentacle working together to study the Amp down to the smallest of details, the tendrils would split into filaments to get into the nooks and crannies. It made me nervous, but it is clear what she was doing. She’s trying to get to know the weapon…

She’s trying to know it not only as I do, but as Zeke did. Down to the very components and materials used.

My mind starts to slip into the similar spell that it fell into the last time as I watch her fluid movements, now more flowy with her more relaxed mind, and I begin to notice something interesting. Her methodical actions flowed with the rhythm, like she’s part of the music. My ears can hear how the sounds of her tinkering and work synced with the melody, the whole thing almost like a performance. Everything just moving so smoothly and in time… It is… Quite the sight.

I close my eyes and just… Listen to the music. My head almost instinctively started to bob and sway to the beat. Everything is just… So soothing. When my mind figures out the rhythm of the song, I start to hum along. I don’t care if the Gunsmith could hear it. I guess one could say I’m getting into the zone right along with her.

I hate to admit it, I really do, but I’d be lying to myself if I said that I’m not enjoying the shared calm. Turns out that when Kestrel isn’t being an absolute pain in my ass and wanting to start trouble and provoke me, she’s… Not too bad to be around… Though it could be the isolation talking. Been alone for so long that the human need for comradery is latching onto any human who would be willing to give me the time of day.

Still… The fact that she’s even doing this despite all the shit we put each-other through? Speaks volumes of her character.

I can feel the ghost of a smile form on my face as I continue to hum, getting lost in the music and the company. I got so lost in it that I didn’t hear the door open and Mako walk inside. "Hey Kes!"

[cartoonfangirl1218]

Hey, remember when I had a whiny self pity party a few months ago about my grad school. 

It’s back. 

You see, I had thought I reached a calm state of acceptance about it. Yes, it wasn’t what I wanted but it was still a good school. Its well known for writing for a reason, it will be fine. 

Then orientation happened. And nothing really bad came from it, the teachers all seemed nice and enthusiastic but I just left feeling worse I guess somehow. 

The writing workshops seem fine but just the other classes about publishing, it just feels like I’m playing pretend I guess. It’s more essays and more group projects that are supposed to prepare for the actual job and that’s the whole point of education I know. 

But god, the other program had you actually tour publishing houses. And there was a whole semester project where you got to work personally one on one with an editor to develop your novel and another semester with an agent to try to sell it to the publishing houses. 

You got to work, I want to work so badly instead of having these vague classes where homework is the stand-in for an actual chance inside the publishing world. 

And don’t even get me started on the internships. How this school is all about networking and we’ll get you connections and whenever I ask about job, the answer is always the goddam same. It’s always go to the career center. 

I did go to the career center in college and all the career center does is help you with your resume. Which is fine but I would like to actually add a job to my goddam resume instead of polishing up the nothing I already have. Because I know the problem is I having nothing on my resume because no one will fucking hire me since I have no experience like the worst circular dumpster fire. 

And no one is going to recommend me because I have to be an adult and do it myself, take initiative. I know that but god, everyone says you have to have connections or know someone so why can’t the teacher help me get in something. And I don’t mean the school literary magazine. I read that and I understood nothing of that pretentious poetry nonsense. Nothing!

But maybe I’m wrong, supposedly the alumni in the career center message boards always reply back. Maybe they’ll help. Or maybe it will be like the last time when I talked to three editors from Disney-Hyperion and Simon and Schuster (how’s that for initiative)That they’ll keep me in mind but you just to have keep working at it and maybe find local journals. And I’ll smile and say thanks, and they’ll smile and say they’ll remember but let’s face it, they probably won’t. 

And those local journals don’t even have the decency to reply with an automated rejection email because apparently that’s not a thing anymore. They just don’t answer at all. And I’m too polite to send a snarky email saying maybe they’ll hire me to rejection emails for them cuz they need it. Not that they’d reply to that anyone. 

And the ones that do answer and give me an interview then they cancel the interview because they don’t need anymore hires. Do they not fucking communicate?!?! How do they not know that the position isn’t filled when they offer someone an interview? Why do they have the internship sign still up! And this has happened to me three times. Three, what the hell. 

And the others, cuz only one had the decency to reject me outright told me they needed more personality. Omg this is internship, I’m probably just getting you coffee and checking emails. Do you really need my personality? My personality is whatever you want me to be because I just want to get hired. I mean I guess I could talk about how I like books but I really think you should have guessed that from the fact that I’m applying for your journal and that whole cover letter where I talk about my book blig, my library experience, and all that. But nooo that’s just my accomplishments, they want personality. 

Well my personality is in the middle of a meltdown between crying ion the toilet and punching someone in the face repeatedly. Thank you very very much! 

And my regular job search isn’t going much better with the aforementioned no rejection email thing. Or just not replying to emails. Or they want a high school student. Or it only goes to the Princeton Uni ones because they’re so special. Which will be ironic since the only job that I’m going to get is at the University store. Yes, maybe it’s a shitty temporary job, but I guess that’s a rite of passage and I want money. 

Yet it’s so so depressing at the same time because I know what my friends are doing. Ones in foreign exchange in Uruguay at a clinic. Ones working at a hospital. Ones in law school. They get to work, they get to be in the fields while I’m stuck in this online program in theoretical publishing land instead of the real thing. 

And I know I shouldn’t compare but it’s hard and then I have to talk to them and literally have nothing to say when they ask what’s new. Nothing is new. It’s read a little and depend on the day, do laundry or go food shopping. Or when I get the store job, I can add fold t shirts, stack t shirts, ring up t shirts, find my atrophied brain among the t shirts. Basically the same thing I’ve done all summer. 

Because how can I build a social life in an asynchronous program. Seriously? So many people yet the most superficial interactions. It’s not like real life and it’s not like fandom life where you already have a jumping off point and I must admit I suck at group situations. I need one on one but again, it’s all async so ffuuuuck. And don’t get me on local adult classes. They use to be $75, now they’re $210 for Beginner’s French, what sort of capitalist greed nonsense is this 

And let’s not even get to my love life, that will go down a depressing spiral just the same. And I have tried and maybe it’s the guys I’ve texted with but they suck at texting. I’m always initiating and it’s always one word in return and I cannot be the one initiating, I just feel I’m bothering you. And since I’ve stopped, it’s been months with nothing so clearly that’s a dead end too. 

I mean, people always go on in the internet age it’s so easy to communicate and noooo it’s not true! It’s not true! It’s not true! 

The only thing I’m excited about is doing a paralegal degree online. I’m not even interested in law! But at least it will feel like an accomplishment compared to this program.

Because maybe I’m not cut out for this. Maybe I’m not as good of a writer as I think I am. And I’m trying to be realistic that maybe I can be an editor but apparently getting into it is even harder than being a writer. Apparently just getting in that field is just hard and it sucks. And I could be a librarian but that involves learning math, it’s been three years since I did math, I can’t get back into, I can’t. The GRE has spoken. 

So I’ll be a paralegal and I just die a little inside. And my friends are all like why are you giving up on my dream and come on, you think I want to? 

I don’t! I know I would be good at it. I read 100 pages per hour, I’ve done interviews with authors, I wrote 100 posts for my book blog in 18 days and once did a 100 day streak of one post a day. Basically, initiative and I’m disciplined and bit obsessive which I would think they want. I’ve edited others work, I think I write pretty good emotional scenes with angst and humor, I’ve written in the voice of other authors, I’ve planned detail book series which is exactly in the job skills of a story editor. I would kill in this!

Maybe, I mean I don’t even know. Maybe it is harder than I think and I should try for something else but I don’t know because I’m not in that world, just theoretical land of school papers and essays, wasting my time when I could have learned to accept that dreams die long long ago. 

And yes, this is all very self pitying when I could transfer but what’s the point? What’s the point of sticking it out for a year and transferring. I should just suck it up and do the two years I’m paying for. Transferring wouldn’t solve the fact that Boston is too expensive to live in. That’s why my parents told me to accept this one, to stay home and save the money on rent and transportation. And take care of my grandfather and dogs. It was a sign they said, 

And I know it’s selfish to want otherwise. I mean I love my grandfather and I don’t want to be too far away if he, god forbids, dies but it hurts. It feels like I’m stuck in this false grown up world where I’m pretending that I’m going to actually earn something out of this vague program of busywork that will “prepare” me while everyone is out there doing things with their jobs full of purpose and fulfillment and life and cute guys and culture. 

And yeah, I just needed to scream it out there in the void of the internet where it can’t get back to my family. Then they’d just feel guilty (which maybe they should have thought about before undermining my decision but whatever, I’m trying to get over the resentment). But there’s some good stuff, like seeing my family and having my dogs. And I have the car so I can go to the library and movies and. . . Yeah that’s it. But my first Zoom class is today so maybe it’ll be better. Please be less empty than I think.  At least I got this all out in words instead of swirling in my head every time I go food shopping strangely enough.

[refundtheticket]

Ur so fucking real for that post, I was also having meltdowns and being violent and disruptive and getting intro trouble constantly as a kid and I cannot relate to the 'quiet and gifted kid' mental illness thing AT ALL

haha THANK YOU i’m glad you can relate. it’s weird bc i acknowledge that yknow these things take different forms and i empathize with the fact that things are hard for everyone but the emphasis on being Well Behaved To A Fault esp with good grades just ends up making me feel so alienated lol. the good grades thing is a big one for me, doing really badly in school felt like such a huge part of how i was looked at as being unintelligent???

(this got long so: read more)

also so weird to me bc i swear having adhd and autism is usually associated with bad grades (maybe more of an adhd thing?) which is like why are we pretending we all got great grades. (edit: whoops forget to mention, i know the poll was about general mental illness but i often see this specific trait brought up for adhd and autism diagnoses and a lot of people in the comments were bringing up those) adhd gave me the power to never get any assignment done and autism gave me the ability to find every assignment meaningless and pointless etc

it kinda feels like it’s pushing this narrative that like these people who did well in school did everything Right and it was the adults around them who failed them, and then kids who just sucked got all the help and resources grrr and it’s like buddy. the adults failed everybody. including the neurotypical people frankly but that’s neither here nor there

in terms of the “help” i got (which mostly started in high school, my elementary and middle school teachers mostly regarded me as one would a rodent), my teachers literally just assumed i couldn’t read or write, restricted classes i could enroll in (which restricted my options for colleges and had a huge impact on my further education), had some person follow me around who wouldn’t leave me alone even when i asked her to (which yes. had social repercussions. she was somewhat short lived tho at least) and baby talked to me like i was 5 well into my final year of high school. among other things… and no that didn’t help with anything LMAO it was actually extremely dehumanizing and left me with lasting emotional damage!! (obv if you can’t read or write getting help for that is great but being assumed you can’t do anything on your own and having that ‘help’ mandated to the point where you’re restricted entry into certain CLASSES sucks ass)

anyway all that said i am coming at this from the perspective of a millennial who finished high school in 2010 so for all i know gen z got an entirely different experience

[nickeverdeen]

hi omg, could i get a romantic match-up for star wars??

i’m queer with no preference for male or female, and non binary, using they/them pronouns. hhh i’m an entp and my hogwarts house is ravenclaw.

personality wise i’m quite sarcastic and can get snappy at times. i do not have the best temper whatsoever and am easily annoyed by even the smallest things. i’m a bit emotionally closed off which makes it hard for me to meet new people without shaking or having a full blown meltdown— i’m quite affectionate to those i’m close with and absolutely love physical touch (to an extent). once i’m close with someone i really latch onto ‘em, i do everything i can to make sure they’re not hurt whether it’s emotionally or physically.

appearance wise i’m standing at 5’8”. i’m very pale, in the winter i have very little colour so i sometimes look like a ghost- i have green eyes and black hair. my hair reaches just passed my shoulders and i have a grown out mullet sort of hairstyle which is on its way to being a long bob. i have freckles along my cheekbones and the bridge of my nose. i’m not super small but not super big either, just in the middle. i do have curves but they’re not super obvious. i have a mesomorph and pear shaped body with a bit of a long torso.

i love love love going for late night walks, going out and watching the stars, picnics during the sunset, baking or cooking and listening to instrumental music. i absolutely adore horror, true crime, and dystopian films/tv shows, i can never get enough of ‘em!

style wise i usually wear loose-legged black cargo pants with either a cropped tank top or a black turtleneck. i have these platform boots that i wear non-stop (which probably isn’t good for my ankles🥲). i love long jackets, like from out of the matrix.

hhh i think that’s all—

@thedevilyk your Star Wars match-up is:

Padmé Amidala

Okay first of all: this bitch is gonna correct whoever she fucking wants about your pronouns

She likes the fact that you’re wise and not idiotic

When you get snappy at other people she just watches

But when you get snappy at her… oh boy, she’s gonna keep giving you such a comebacks until you’ll run out of arguments

Arguments are very rare with Padmé

Padmé helps you meet new people if you’d want

She has a patience so don’t worry, she won’t preassure you into telling her about your emotions and patiently will wait for you to open up if you’d want to

Cheek kisses

Padmé really appreciates your concern about her safety and she does the same to you

She loves your freckles

She likes to fall asleep on your chest whistl cuddling, she feels safe

Late night walks and picnics?

Oh hell yeah

She loves that

Picnic dates for sure!

She can’t cook, feel free to argue with a wall, but Padmé just can’t cook

She’s willing to learn how to cook or bake from you, though

Padmé also likes to listen to instrumental music

She once watched a horror movie with you and since then she knew that she’s never ever gonna watch them again

I’m sorry, but she’s just scared or it’s way too disturbing for her

Padmé is gonna scold you about your boots many many many many times, considering she knows that it’s not good for your ankles and that they might hurt

She’s gonna get you jackets somehow

Padmé loves hugs so be prepared

Hugs and cheek kisses

She isn’t really into petnames, but she’s gonna call you by your shorter version of your name

For example: Anakin = Ani

Padmé is very loyal and she would never in her life cheat on you so don’t worry

[brawnthisway]

This morning you apologized for what happened. You’re sorry. You feel bad. You don’t think I’m stupid. You’re sorry.

But why? Why ever even say it, if it’s not what you think? If this opinion isn’t bouncing around in your head, just waiting to spring out after a little too much wine, how did it come out?

You don’t know. Why would you suggest I call you racist things? You don’t remember even saying that last night. But you love me and you don’t think I’m an idiot. Do I hate you? Do I forgive you? You’re sorry. You ruined our anniversary.

I say nothing to this. I guess you did ruin our anniversary, and this puts a sore point in the middle of our whole vacation, but it’s far from the first time you’ve injected a drunken meltdown into a vacation. Actually I struggle to think of a vacation we’ve taken that didn’t have one big fight in it, going right back to our first road trip. Is this who we are?

Why didn’t you go back to the hotel when I left? Why did you sit there at the university? You thought I was just blowing off steam and needed to take a lap before coming back. You had the keys, so of course I’d be back.

But no. I walked away. Because I don’t deserve to be treated this way. And I will walk away again the next time it happens. It’ll never happen again, you say. You promise.

If the roles were reversed, if I browbeat you this way, if I disrespected you and insulted you cruelly, if I ever actually called you the things you said I would, our friends would tell you to divorce me. They would tell you to pack your bags and leave.

And I’d be right to leave you, you say. Do I want to leave you? Do I want a divorce? No. I can’t tell you this right now, but I’ve told you before; I need you. I need your love and I need our friends and I need our home and I think I will die without you.

But I can’t tell you that right now. Because under the circumstances you’ll assume it means that I’m only with you because I need stability, or money, or something like that. That’s not true. I can go anywhere and assimilate anywhere and do anything because I am intelligent and I am diligent and I am a social chameleon. I could disappear and live a completely different life, starting today, and have no regrets. But I am with you. And I am with you because I love you and you have given me more room to grow and be myself than anyone I’ve ever known. I am happy about the life we have built. I don’t want to throw that away just because you were a huge asshole to me at the end of a very lovely anniversary dinner. But I can’t tell you that right now.

You have a mean streak in you and I can’t explain it. You can’t explain it either. You can’t explain why you would spend five minutes telling me over and over that I’m stupid, and two hours crying about it when I walk away. You say you’re fucked up. You say I’m wonderful and I deserve better than you. I say nothing. If I agree you’re fucked up, it would make me the aggressor in this exchange. And if I disagree, if I say no, if I say you’re my wife and I don’t think I deserve better than you, it’d just give you the relief and approval you’re so desperately seeking right now. Because whether you’re fucked up or not, you fucked up and you should feel some kind of way about it.

We sit in silence for a long time. Will I look at you? No. No, I won’t make eye contact with you for the rest of the day. I don’t think I’m doing this as punishment, I just can’t look at you right now. I won’t listen to music or books or any of the other things I usually do to with my morning either, because I have too much happening in my head. I am too upset. I will be quiet and I will not look at you and later I will write all this down to organize my thoughts.

Do I want a hug? No. I keep staring into the distance. I lean forward in the couch to take the pressure off my spine, like I do in movie theaters. Sitting in one place too long is never comfortable, but I have to sit here with you for now because we’re working through a disagreement.

Will I say something? No. Not for a long time. I have a thought swirling in my head and I need to say it just right, or not say it at all. It won’t come out. I psych myself up and practice it in my head. I stumble and I cry for a long time before I can bring myself to say it. I’m sputtering as I point my finger, an accusation.

Never say something like that to me again, and never ever do or say anything like that to our children. I mean this as a threat to our marriage. If you are cruel to me I can walk away. But our child won’t have that choice. You are their mother, and that means everything.

I’m crying furiously, more than you’ve ever seen my cry I think. But it’s important to get it out. Do I still even want to have children with you? I do. But you can never treat them this way. We’ve spent half this vacation talking about names for this theoretical future baby, and I need you to know how much I need you to be kind to them.

You promise you’ll never be cruel. We sit longer in silence. I’ve grown cold and am no longer crying, so I go to the bed and wrap myself in the duvet. You stay on the couch.

I lay and I think about the movie The Crow. I recorded it from the TV when I was young, and must’ve watched it a hundred times. There’s a scene where the Crow confronts Sarah’s morphine-addled mother, Darla. He says “mother is the name for god on the lips and hearts of all children” as he magically sobers her up. I think about that quote and cry silently. Am I wrong to want to have a baby with you? You’ve never had a good thing to say about your parents, the people who made you; your models for parenthood. Can we do better than they did to you? My whole future feels like it’s on fire.

The quote from The Crow is from Vanity Fair, it turns out. I’ve never read it. So I can quote Brandon Lee but not William Thackeray.

I lay there a long time. Wracking my brain. We have to check out of this hotel room in a few hours; we’re catching a train. We still have days left of this vacation and I don’t know if I’ll be able to talk to you. To sit across from you at dinner. To look at you.

We’ll both be miserable. But if I leave, if I go home early, it’ll be even worse. Better for me, by far: I’ll be alone, I’ll be at home with my own food and my own bed and my dog. But you’ll be devastated and you will assume we’re getting divorced all because you called me stupid one night. It hardly seems worth it. As much as I want to get away from you today, as much as I want my space, as much as I want to figure out how I can make peace with the way you acted, leaving would be worse for us. So I have to stay and be miserable now, so we can be happy later.

I call you over to the bed and bid you join me under the duvet. I put my arm around you and you cry into my chest. We lay there for an hour in silence, until it’s time to leave for the train.

[metallteeff]

i am going to be personal bewareeeeee

this one is going to be brief but i am so so so torn on seeking on autism diagnosis. i’m very sure i have it and im so sure because i think it’s level 2 (i think that’s the new system). but i really don’t want to have a record of that and being trans. because both will eventually be documented if i get a diagnosis. but it’s like ohhhhhh my god. there’s just certain things i actually can’t do but i have have a sheet of paper to wave around so people can listen to me and help me. but it’s hard to mask things like really obviously physical autistic atttributes if that makes sense. like my posture and how i stim is not very easy to mask its like fucking punching my fists and gnawing on shit.

this is also just me being like damn i feel a little left out in autism discussions sometimes because i feel like a lot of conversations revolve around the social obstacles with autism but i have so many social obstacles bc of the physical strangeness i have. idk. that’s not so much something im mad at but it’s like hard to be not autistic so then getting to talk about autism is nice but then it’s like god i’m even weird in autism groups pleaseeee

luckily i have like beautiful wonderful friends and mutuals and people are really nice to me at work but, speaking as if i were diagnosed w level 2 autism by this point, this type of autism literally also kind of ruined my life because i was just really “weird” or “strange”. like that’s the label i got for it as a kid by teachers and peers and my family. and that label has always meant “you don’t go here and you won’t ever go here”. and with the middle ground nature of level 2 autism it’s just kind of a perpetual state im in. i just always feel to wrong for a situation. it’s not at the same level it was when i was a kid but ohhh my god. it as a whole is so frustrating. i love being autistic and i love my special interests and they are so fun to engage with and i am so happy when people listen to me but it’s such an infuriating thing to deal with especially when you have regular meltdowns (and then have to make over them because you are expected to be ‘normal’ at this point). and like. punching head banging stim. and when you are physically can’t talk autism and not cute autism it just feels so hard to do anything ohhhh my god