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chameleon66 · 8 months ago

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Love’s Illusion

Warnings: Angst, implied autistic Gus, past bullying, Bria (let me know if I need to add anything else)

Author’s note: So funny story, I was planning to post this a few days ago but when I went back to edit this my computer completely crashed and it took days for the repair shop to get it back up and running so yeah it’s been a while since I have written a Fanfiction but I hope to upload more of these more often. With all of that said happy reading and happy Gustholomule week.

Matt was getting worried, he hadn’t heard from Gus since yesterday when they accidently ran into Bria at the bonesburrow market place and Bria had a lot to say to Gus and none of it was very nice.

Guess she wasn’t over what happened in the illusionist’s graveyard. Gus was so obviously hurt by what she had said, so much so that Gus choked back whatever words that had died on his tongue and said that he had forgotten he had to help his dad with something.

Gus then summoned Emmeline and flew off in the direction of his house. Matt was furious at Bria, she had no business being here reopening old scars. As angry Matt was he swallowed his rage and just turned his back on her.

On his way home Matt texted Gus, asking if he was ok but never got an answer, so an hour later he texted him again this time telling Gus to not think about what Bria said and that she wasn’t worth losing sleep over. Matt still got no answer.

The next day he still hadn’t gotten a reply back and Matt couldn’t stop himself, he went over to Gus’s house but when he knocked on the door he got no answer.

After waiting another minute he decided to go around the house and look for another way in. Matt moved to the side of the house and cast a spell circle raising a platform to the window that if Matt remembered correctly was Gus’s bedroom window.

Matt peered through the glass to see Gus’s bedroom dimly lit, the only sources of light seemed to be the window and a crystal ball on the floor, and next to the crystal ball was a gloomy looking Gus laying on his back staring up at the ceiling.

Has he been like this since he got home? Matt asked himself.

Matt knocked on the window which seemed to snap Gus back to the real world as he sat up and looked around his room before his eyes landed on the window with his boyfriend on the other side of the glass.

Gus stiffened in his shoulders before he climbed on to his bed to the window and opened it for Matt.

“You could have just used the front door.” Gus smiled but Matt could tell it was forced.

“I tried knocking but you never answered.” Matt answered climbing through the window onto Gus’s bed beside him.

Matt’s boyfriend looked away and scratched the back of his head awkwardly, “Oh sorry about that.” Matt could see Gus’s mind was somewhere else as he wouldn’t look in his boyfriend’s direction and he was laying on the floor when Matt first saw him which he did when he was feeling overwhelmed or stressed out.

“No need to say sorry you dork.” Matt joked trying to lighten the mood, Gus looked back at him and tried to smile though it still looked very forced.

“Are you okay, Gus?”

Gus sighed leaning his back against the wall and drawing his knees up to his chest, another thing Matt knew he did when he was experiencing a negative emotion. Matt paused trying to find the right words to say, then formulating them into a sentence.

“Look, Bria has always been a jerk and she’s not worth getting upset over.” Matt shuffled closer to Gus. Gus looked down at his bedsheets, wrapping his arms around himself.

“That’s not why I am upset.” Gus uttered in a monotone tone that didn’t feel right in Gus’s voice.

“Why?” Matt pressed, he felt like the answer was staring him dead in the face but the construction witch just couldn’t put his finger on it.

“I guess I’m just kinda mad at myself.” Gus rubbed his eyes from under his glasses, probably trying to keep his tears from flowing.

Now it was Matt’s turn to choke on his words, How did Gus come to the conclusion to be mad at himself? Especially when Bria was the one who said all those things to him.

“Why at yourself?” Matt asked, trying to keep the millions of questions in his head.

Gus looked at his Boyfriend with guilt plaguing his midnight sky eyes. “Everyone says I’m really smart but then why do I act so dumb?”

Matt remained silent waiting for Gus to continue while also pre thinking of what to say to comfort Gus when he finished speaking.

“I get tricked by everyone and I always get upset over stupid things.” Gus buried his face in his hands as if he was trying to hide from what he thought was the truth.

“I just let myself get tricked and used all the time, Bria has just been one of many people who tricked me and for some stupid reason I just can’t see it.”

Matt felt his mouth get very dry, he figured that he wasn’t the only one to have tricked Gus but he never knew the details of it all.

“I’m nearly sixteen for titian’s sake, so why do I still act like a child?”

Gus threw his head back against the wall hitting it, the vibrations causing one of Gus’s framed pictures to come loose, fall and hit Gus on the head.

“Ouch!” Gus cried holding his head.

Matt began to reach a hand towards the illusionist only for Gus’s head to shoot up and open his eyes which were glowing blinding bright blue. Matt pried his eyes away from his boyfriend to see the room being consumed in the same blue glow.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no, not again.” Gus’s words were sharp and his voice sounded scared. Suddenly the room shifted to the illusionist graveyard but everything was tinted blue.

Matt squinted his eyes as a silhouette came into focus and then took the form of Bria who wore a sarcastic smile on her face that just made Matt want to punch her lights out.

“Aw, is the little baby gonna cry?” Bria or illusion Bria teasingly cooed. “You know, I’ve always wondered how someone so smart could ever be so stupid.”

Gus curled tighter into a ball, shutting his eyes so tightly the skin around his eyes began to wrinkle.

“This is why you’re so useful Gus, you’re so desperate to make friends, you can be a tool.” Bria cackled, placing her hands on her hips.

Gus began to shake his head back and forth and gritting his teeth, “Shut up, just shut up!” Gus buried his head in his arms trying to tune out Bria’s voice.

Matt was trying to process the things he was hearing, Gus had truly been holding in a lot and it seemed that now was when Matt needed to help his boyfriend.

Slowly Matt placed a hand on Gus’s shoulder, Gus looked back at him, eyes still glowing with his brows knit down.

“Gus..” Matt started but paused. He was never good with emotions especially other people’s, what if he just messed up and made things worse?

No, Matt didn’t have time to think about that. This wasn’t about him, it was about Gus. Who really needed a hug and some comforting words as soon as possible.

So Matt figuratively manned up and began speaking again.

“Gus, can you try to take some deep breaths please?” Matt asked, silently praying he wouldn’t mess anything up.

Gus’s breathing kept hitching as he exhaled while he was still clearly trying to hold himself together, Matt directed Gus’s attention to him as Matt began taking deep breaths with Gus’s beginning to follow his example of breathing.

“That’s it Gus, you’re doing good.” Matt reassured.

After a minute of deep breathing and encouraging words from Matt the illusion around them began to fade and suddenly they were back in Gus’s bedroom with no trace of the graveyard of Bria in sight.

Gus wore a somber look on his face as if he just spent all of his energy on his feelings.

“Sorry about that-.”

“No.” Matt interrupted, “Don’t apologize, it wasn’t your fault.” Matt gave Gus’s shoulder a soft squeeze.

“Why can’t I learn though?” Gus asked, still not looking in Matt’s direction.

“I always get tricked and yet I’m always still called the smart kid, so why can’t I just be smart for once?” Gus’s words felt like ice water that made your skin feel all prickly and Matt knew he needed to bring some warmth to Gus.

Matt Grabbed both of Gus’s hands and rubbed his thumb over the knuckles urging Gus to slowly look up at Matt’s sympathetic eyes.

“Gus, you are the smartest witch I have ever known.” Matt saw the doubtful expression on Gus’s face so he kept going. “And I’m not just saying that, you are always eager to learn something new and you always notice the small details that you apply to help anyone who needs it.”

Matt saw Gus’s ear perk up which encouraged Matt to continue speaking.

“Sure you may be a bit Gullible but that’s like the best part about you, you always find it somewhere in your heart to forgive people and give them a second chance to prove themselves and you still continue forward even when you are scared, so long story short.”

“Too late.” Gus joked which made Matt chuckle.

“The point is, Nobody's perfect but that’s ok because I still like what’s flawed about you.” Matt explained.

Gus smiled, a true smile that made Matt's heart jump a little. “Thank you Matty.” Gus thanked warmly.

“Don’t mention it.” Matt beamed then placed a kiss on Gus’s nose.

“Do you feel better?” Matt asked.

“A little bit.” Gus answered with his smile faltering a bit.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Just stay?” Gus shyly requested. “Of course.” Matt pulled Gus into his arms, laying them both down on the bed and letting Gus lay down beside him and then wrap his arms around him while Matt kissed the back of his neck softly.

“I love you, Gus.”

“I love you too Matty.”

#random #i love them #toh mattholomule #toh gus #the owl house gus #gus x matholumule #gustholomule #gus x matt #gus porter #gustholomule week 2024 #mattholomule #my writing #the owl house fanfiction #toh fanfic

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archangeltwins · 5 months ago

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living with this as an undiagnosed / misdiagnosed kid & teen, and now she wants to claim that she 'quit her job to take care of me'???????

examples I can remember/haven't entirely blocked out:

- calling me bitch, selfish, lazy, ungrateful, entitled, asshole, worthless

- empty-feeling praise or encouragement

- emotionally distant?

- felt my accomplishments were not my own, that they were only for them

- always had to pick which parent was right in a petty argument, to "back them up"

- NEVER felt that I was allowed to express emotions the correct way

- has never admitted she's wrong and makes me out to be the martyr instead

- accusing me of being a fibber, that everything that comes out of my mouth is a lie

- "you haven't been abused"

- wants me to apologize to her most times, instead of the other way around

- bringing up my past mistakes and provoking me into getting angry with her ("why are you always so angry with me/us?")

- ignoring my privacy or boundaries (wanting to know who I'm talking with, then tells me "she doesn't care who I talk to") on my phone/barging into bedroom unannounced, even when door is closed

- never let me shut/lock my door throughout childhood, always wanted me to keep it open "to see if I was doing anything suspicious"

- door taken off the hinges for punishments I can't remember/or blocked out entirely (stupid ones, like slamming too hard)

- always having to ask permission to do things (go out with friends/buy stuff/etc)

- telling me when I got upset that I was "too sensitive' or that I "couldn't take a joke"

- she has spanked me until I cried (younger), as I tried to protect my bottom from the smacks I was told to move my hands

- always thinks I have an "attitude" (and forbid I try to explain myself...)

- "I'm your mother!"

- "my house, my rules" (but if the house needed cleaning, it was "my" house too?)

- "I yell because I love you"

- "I brought you into this world, I can take you out" (threatening me with murder, great!)

- said that living "under their roof" was a privilege, not a right

- insults as sarcasm or put-downs, especially during lectures

- complains about how i never do anything, then jumps to do it once we offer (with a huff and "ungrateful" or "lazy")

- threatened suicide during a fit just to get us to pay attention to her

- said that if "[therapist] doesn't give them the answers they want" then I won't be going anymore

- threatened to take my phone/cut off service/etc to try and get me to feel...small? reliant on them?

- "you're not the adult in this house and you don't get to make the rules"

- also threatened to "take everything they've paid for" out of my room and leave me with the stuff I've bought

- threatening abandonment "driving off and never coming back"/etc after tirades

- "we're not the problem, you are"

- "we love you and want to see you happy" (right...)

- "we're the parents and you're the child"

- during "family meetings", she wanted to record what I say/do and I didn't get to have a say whether I want her to or not

- used to yell and get furious, then "apologize" and act completely normal (always thought that her quick flip to normalcy was so bewildering)

- used to make me decide my own punishment (soap/spoon/flyswatter/etc)

- threatening to send me to a psych ward bc of an autistic shutdown

- both of them used me as their sounding board to vent about the other parent when they should've been going to FUCKING THERAPY

- i would be so terrified of her blowups that i'd self-punish before she got home by putting all my electronics in her room

- sound of her car keys / car door shutting? instant dread and cold fear

#bad parents #toxic parents #dysfunctional family #get me the fuck outta this house.jpg #tw abuse #tw sui implied #fuck off with that but theyre faaaaaaaaaambily bullshit #her apologies were empty & MEANINGLESS

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actuallylorelaigilmore · 1 year ago

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now that i'm an adult, i think one of the most insidious effects of being raised in conservative christianity is that i know, in a painful and personal way, how harmful that world of religious values and traditions can be...but i still feel reflexive nostalgia for elements of it that i grew up with.

i'm listening to a podcast that mentions the 700 club and i don't think pat robertson and hatred of gay people even though i'm fully aware of all that now.

instead i remember my grandmother and her little sitting room with the tv in it and how she would watch the 700 club every day, how much she loved billy graham and how much of her time she spent at local bible study and helping with worship services at the nursing home. i remember going with her to play the flute there, practicing the old rugged cross and amazing grace at her house first.

my mature brain also remembers how much she would talk about the end times and y2k and how confused and terrified that made me at 14, and how she insisted on talking to any friend of mine she ever met about jesus and how embarrassing that could be, and how insistently my whole family enforced a very white christianity and how baffled i was by that.

but i read revelations in 1999 to try and make sense of my grandmother's wisdom, and i never worried while she was intruding on my friends that it might be upsetting for them or just plain rude, and though i couldn't understand why my mom took away the illustrated bible where jesus wasn't white, i knew she must have had only good intentions when she said it wasn't an appropriate gift for me.

even though a lot of things about the religion i was raised with left scars that feel forever raw, like i get to spend the rest of my life fighting a bitterness that's inconsistent with the kind of person i want to be, i was still raised with it--in a bubble that told me there was only one truth, while i was a pliant autistic kid who believed everyone i trusted. and in that truth, there wasn't room for complications. it felt simple. it felt like family, and home, and love.

that didn't change until i changed, until i was grown enough to have questions, and not understand the answers i was given, and see harm to the people around me and wonder if there was a better way. the person i became could never go back there. but the person i started out as, for sixteen years, can't jump forward, either...so those feelings live forever, unchanged.

i think the 700 club and i think of my grandmother, who could be cruel and was absolutely racist and indoctrinated me as a toddler when i was left at her house overnight, a story i was told often growing up because i 'accepted jesus into my heart' while too young to even remember doing so, a binding contract on my soul that could only be enforced if i believed it.

but my grandmother was also the person who i trusted most in the world, the one who came to my school events when my mother stayed home. up through her last days, she was my biggest champion and source of strength, who made me believe i was her favorite during an undiagnosed unstable childhood when i really needed to be somebody's favorite.

i think the 700 club and it makes me cry, because christianity and my grandmother were inseparable; i never experienced one without the other. christianity loved me, and christianity broke me, and both can be true and both can be complicated and all of it hurts. i guess it will always hurt.

but there will always be nostalgia tangled up in there too, and that's the part that doesn't feel fair, because i didn't get to choose the religion i was brought up in. i just get to carry it anyhow.

#cleaning out my drafts #christianity #my formative years #my childhood #life stuff #long post

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occult-roommates · 1 year ago

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A scandal in the spellcasting world

One day, late in the evening, the Rossinis cousins were watching a movie on a channel which airs comedy classic. However, nothing made them feel older than the fact the movie currently airing was "Don't Mess with the Zohan". Then, Dawud joined in, and he got so close to Matteo he clipped into him, and Daniele had to pretend he's fine with that. Please someone come put an end to his misery...

Rudi: DANIELE TURN ON THE TV! PUT ON THE NEWS YOU'RE NOT GONNA BELIEVE WHAT JUST HAPPENED DOWNTOWN!! Daniele: WHAT??

Stressed out, he grabbed the remote control and turned on to SMN24 (San Myshuno News 24), only to see a woman he had never heard of in his life make a speech.

Rudi: Listen listen! Daniele: Rud, this cannot be the right news report for the level of urgency in your voice. Rudi: I had to make it crystal clear in order for your autistic ass to understand how much I wanted you to see this. Daniele: Stop saying I'm autistic! Matteo: You're not?! Dawud: Ok but like, never do it like that again. Like...last time someone said with this tone of voice to turn on the news cause something big happened in the San Myshuno downtown, it was the worst terrorist attack in history.

Because none of them were listening, Rudi rewinded until the beginning of the news report. There, a reporter explained only a few days before the upcoming Magic Realm Summit, a human woman had made a revelation that was shocking the spellcasting world at its very core. It then cut to the woman making a speech, what was being shown when they originally changed channel. It was written below "Delfina Baradoz - History teacher".

Delfina: Welcome everyone, my name is Delfina Baradoz. However, nobody but a few people knows me under this name. The name I used to be known as is quite similar. I am better known as Delphine Lorgnez, the so-called dead daughter of Gwenaelle Lorgnez and Giuseppe Paradisi. According to most, I passed away at only five years old, and yet here I am, turning 53 today.

Daniele felt confused. Why would they even lie about their daughter being dead? Surely, this woman had to be doing it for attention. However, he could not deny how much she look like a perfect blend of Gwenn and Giuseppe.

Daniele: But why? Rudi: Back when my dad was alive he had this friend who was obsessed with faking his death...Well, maybe not obsessed, but he brought it up often enough it was sus, especially whenever he was going through stuff. He'd even suggest it to other people. Dawud: I mean, faking your own death is a bit messed up already for your loved one, but forcing someone, a child even, to fake theirs seems even worse. Daniele: Shut up! I'm trying to listen...

Delfina explained she had remained in hiding her entire life. Her parents had found a human couple in Brittany willing to raise her in secret, and she had spent her childhood under the name Christine Cabioch. Once she turned 18, she wanted to change it back to her original name, but realized she actually quite enjoyed being out of the public eyes, unlike her biological parents, and instead picked one that was a nod to her true identity.

Since then, she had a pretty average life, she got married in her early 20s to a human, found a job in Nantes as a high school history teacher, had three kids with no magical abilities and is actually on her way to become a grandma in three months, has a house and a dog, nothing out of the ordinary. Nobody knows who she really is, even her own husband found that out in the last month in preparation for this speech.

Delfina: But why? Why would they do that? As I said, I enjoyed being out of the spotlight, but it is sadly not the reason why they hid me. If that were the case, there were easier solution. No, as you might have noticed, my life has been very human-centric, and the reason is obvious. I am a human...sort of. The older of you might remember a time when my parents were constantly boasting about me, how happy they were to have a daughter, and how much of a powerful spellcastress I was going to be. Then, tragedy struck and my powers were not developping. I was brought to a doctor, who tested me and found out I never will developed any. I was born with a genetic disorder which prevent my body from processing magic properly.

Embarrassed of having a human daughter after constantly claiming his seed (ew) made the most powerful spellcasters, Giuseppe took...a decision. He decided he will fake his daughter's death and hide her. Delfina is not quite sure how he convinced Gwenn to go along with his plan, but he eventually did. One day, they came out claiming their daughter had died in her sleep of a seizure from undiagnosed epilepsy. In order to make sure nobody will ever speak up, they did erase the memories of Delfina and her new parents.

However, Gwenn was never really out of her life and would often come to visit, on top of Delfina constantly hearing about her in the news regarding her weird cult. Then, at 16, she learnt the truth, which obviously messed her up quite a bit. That was the end of the story.

Daniele: No! This is not true!

The spellcaster stood up, unable to believe it. He literally felt mad on behalf of Delfina, but more importantly, he felt weirdly...hurt? He felt weirdly hurt by this.

Rudi: Hey, Dan? You ok? Daniele: This is not true. Giuseppe would never do that. This woman is just an attention seeker who looks like them, hell a human can have blue hair if they have occult ancestry. And she even said herself she changed her name to sound closer to Delphine's name. And how convenient a memory-erasing spell was even involved in her story. Rudi: How would you know he would not do that? You never met him. Daniele: No but...I mean, he's considered a hero to young spellcaster who struggle with magic or developped their power late. Hell, he even used to believe he had the same condition as this woman claims to have! Why would he even treat her the way he was treated by his own family? Well, like, they didn't exactly do that to him, but they were super abusive even by 1900s standard. Rudi: I'm gonna send you the Wikipedia article about the cycle of a abuse. You will find that a fascinating read. Daniele: I still don't understand why he'd do that! He's like...He's my hero...He gave me hope for me, for when my condition will make me lose my power. Maybe I'll find a way to make them comeback, and he's super based like he's pretty much always been on the right side of history, which is saying a lot for a dude who's 123 years old. Rudi: If only you knew the amount of time I found out musician and artist I loved and respected said shitty things about werewolves, even the super progressive one. And the older they are the worse it is cause you know, back then what they were saying was actually socially acceptable. Daniele: So why don't you understand why I'm feeling hurt. Rudi: He doesn't even know you exist Dan! Y'all never even met!

As they say, never meet your hero, that's how you find out they're asshole. Poor Dan, he didn't even got to meet him before finding out he secretly suck.

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#ts4 #sims 4 #the sims 4 #simblr #ts4 simblr #sims story #sims 4 story #ts4 story #occult roommates #daniele rossini #rudi marron #matteo rossini #dawud sahan #delfina baradoz #OcRo s2 #long post

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lunatasticdinoface · 2 years ago

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i watched episode 1 cuz of this post and, what the hell

i didn't realize the main character was autistic! i had a new thing i could relate to pretty much every 5-10 minutes

i dig into some episode 1 maybe-spoilers below so i can also dig into what i related to.

(this is also a personal feelings post, not a discourse post, so you (any reader) don't have to read/reblog it if you don't want to. it's not a statement on how you should act or think. it's also kinda long and rambly! but also if you try to be like "hey actually you were wrong about this or that thing, and you're problematic for it" when i'm talking about personal feelings, i really don't care and i'll be sleeping or playing video games instead of listening to you.)

. again ---SPOILER WARNING---

she turns out to be a genius savant basically immediately, which i can't relate at all to because i am just an internet goblin. (i had some things i excelled at early on but most of it turned out useless. but hey i can remember how words are spelled forever, from a single exposure. i learned fluent english via subtitles. it was impressive for a 5 year old but useless in adult world.)

i think most people would fail to relate to the savant thing too since it's super rare and not remotely representative of autism worldwide, but that's not really the thing i paid attention to anyway.

i paid attention to the little details that i never get to see in media.

i saw the way she fidgets openly in public, which i was always called out for, and learned to mask.

i saw the way she spoke awkwardly in public, which i was always called out for, and learned to mask.

i saw the way she moved awkwardly in public, which i was always called out for, and learned to mask.

i saw the way she would excitedly talk about her deep personal interest (whales!) and people would think she was weird for that. (hey look, another piece of love forced out of me.)

i like seeing her do these things because i wish i felt comfortable to do them. the idea of "leaking" a single unique trait through my mask just gives me intense anxiety and embarrassment.

(hell, i had a therapist see that i was fidgeting in the tiniest way i could muster, and point it out, during anxiety therapy!! he said it was fine, but it doesn't matter. being seen at all is enough. my mask broke and you got through. all i want to do is build bigger walls. but i've learned that it's a bad idea)

i know these little actions are harmless, but i was repeatedly told they were wrong. she knows these little actions are harmless, (even pleasant!) but people tell her to stop, and she does, because someone said you can't talk about whales at work. so you can't talk about the things you love at work, unless you absolutely have to.

if you ever wonder why you don't see more autistic people in public, despite roughly 1 in 50 people being autistic, just keep that in mind. i'm not the only one who's gone through this. masking is a survival technique.

anyway, it's really nice seeing her autistic traits openly represented in media, not as a mark of some freak, but as traits that you must accept in order to accept her as a person, and to enjoy the show. if you can't stand her being herself, you can't watch the show. sometimes i wish reality had a shithead filter like that.

there's a scene where she takes a crowded train to work and i instantly knew how she felt. i'm not saying i have ptsd or anything but god damn i felt instantly uncomfortable like i was there and i was her and i could feel her anxiety building

people tell her new social rules like "don't do this" and she accepts it like it's being programmed into her brain. i do too! it's not perfect, obviously. she forgets from time to time. but the rules linger and get in her way repeatedly.

she's told not to do something (go through a door) and do something else instead (go through the revolving door instead).

she accepts this as another rule that must be followed, despite the fact that she struggles more with the revolving door.

then when it finally is okay to use the easy door, nobody tells her. a grumpy-ass co-worker comes up to her and helps her through the revolving door and calls her an idiot.

she did everything right according to the rules people gave her, but she's still an idiot according to those same people. i can't tell you how many times i've had that exact thing happen, and it sucks.

it's like having two (or more) bosses that want you to do the same task in different ways, and either one will yell at you if you don't do it their way. but it's fucking everyone in the entire world.

(i also wanna take this moment to say you all suck (as a society) for making me go through it each year, because i deserve to blindly pop off just once in my life! if you somehow felt personally hurt by a blind attack on 8+ billion people, that's really funny)

anyway i watched some of these scenes, and repeatedly ended up having to pause to process what i just saw.

i would use those pauses to have little pretend-conversations with people from my life, who often wondered "why are you like this"

i wanted to find the words to express why i sometimes behave the way i do, or why i respond in certain ways during conversations.

i wanted to imagine people actually understanding, for a moment, that it's not because i'm just a disabled weirdo, but because i'm doing about 5 times more work than they do to even approach the same functionality they have

it's really hard to explain, when you have to spend mental energy on

1, an active conversation (tracking its ever-changing topic and timing and body language and eye contact and augh. people wonder why i prefer text communication so much. how the hell do y'all function)

2, self-analysis

and 3, finding the words to turn that self-analysis into an explanation that they can understand despite them being neurotypical

but i have to do that all the time and it's part of why face-to-face conversations are so hard for me

the only part of the show that i 100% failed to relate to is that people are so polite and accepting despite it. i don't mean accepting in the sense of "oh you're disabled? that's cool we'll work around that" but in the sense of not openly saying "why aren't you making eye contact!? look at me when i'm talking to you"

she gets to avoid eye contact without people writing reports about it as wrong behavior. she gets to gently straighten something on a superior's desk without getting yelled at.

the final part of what i loved about the show, beyond relating really hard to the main character, is that it's a really nice fantasy of living as an openly autistic person; living in a world where people won't openly hassle you about it! well, not as often, anyway. she still got called an idiot and treated with disrespect. but she got to be herself. people had to accept her, because the script wasn't meant to be a tragedy.

it was nice to pretend that this is reality for a moment, which is really saying something, because autistic acceptance is still trash in their world.

so i liked it. that's about it. thanks for reading if you got this far. sorry i didn't capitalize words and made it harder to read, but i didn't expect a word count of whatever this is. tumblr ate my spacing so i had to add dots instead. deal with it. i deal with you

what the hell the english spellcheck doesn't know what english means

EXTRAORDINARY ATTORNEY WOO (2022) dir. Yoo In Shik

#uhh the keep reading tag got overridden by the OP so be careful it's real long and SPOILERS #but yea there's like personal feelings in here so if you don't wanna read then that's cool #no memes here just something that took like an hour and a half to write #if i left a sentence unfinished then oops #also i had to add those dots just so you had a chance at readability because tumblr ate my spaces

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istra-ish-sucha-geek · 2 months ago

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I’m not big enough.

I’m over 40, almost six feet tall,

Around 300 lbs

- I don’t weigh myself anymore -

I remember the house my parents built

Our neighbor who had a green, talking parrot,

And sugar-free candy in crinkly, clear, plastic twists

Hard, pastel colored discs

They tasted like nothing else then or since

In 1985, sugar free was new, and I was barely two.

I remember my best friend when I was four

Three blocks down

Her house had a covered garage

And one time we played fish with a stick and string

Dangling behind the couch where her mom

- she had blonde, curly-permed hair -

Tied little toys to the string and would tug twice.

It was magical.

They moved to Alaska, and I never saw her again.

“Love your neighbor as yourself.”

“Who is my neighbor?”

Everyone.

I remember giving money to a man who needed help.

My friends said I was scammed by a street con,

Wasting my twenty dollars.

It had felt good, helping and caring

Now I was tarnished with shame.

I remember when my first high school friend died.

It was by suicide.

But we never said suicide at the funeral.

We never said he blew some part of himself

- and thereby his life -

Into smithereens with a gun.

The military had a representative at the funeral.

He spoke.

He said Andrew was a brave man, who kept secrets,

Strong secrets that safeguarded the nation.

He didn’t say those secrets blew Andy’s soul to smithereens.

My sweet, kind, friend

Who thought I was worth talking to in high school

Awkward, weird girl with glasses,

Terrible hand me down fashion,

And desperate - desperate - for a friend.

“Good morning, Sunshine!”

He saw me.

His little girl was 5. She must be a teenager now.

I remember she sang or prayed at his funeral

Everyone said “what sweet faith,”

And my heart twisted, because we couldn’t say the word suicide

Or grief.

We had to pretend the faith of a fatherless child

Was worth a soul smashed to smithereens

For the safety of this country.

I am not big enough.

“Who is your neighbor?”

“Everybody.”

“Love EVERYBODY.”

The news rolls in.

Famine, wars, and rumors of wars.

Never mind you’re exhausted: care.

Elections, pandemic, Russia, Ukraine

“Help - click - vote - watch”

“Please donate - five seconds of your time -“

I try to splice myself into clicks and seconds

Desperate to care for every neighbor

Every person

Every dying and endangered plant and creature

“Bombs falling - hundreds - thousands dead”

There is not space in the news for my miscarriage.

“Health care crisis in America” makes the headlines

Me, diabetic, living without a glucose monitor doesn’t

“Epidemic of loneliness” is news

But not my partner, awash with trauma, autistic,

Crawling with suicidal ideation, homicidal ideation

The only crisis clinic in town closed last April 1.

- We found out when we showed up for help -

No one was there; just a “FOR LEASE” sign

Overlaid with our weary reflections in the window.

More people died today from bombs and war and terrorism

In a country I have never seen

And I have to care about each numbering thousands

As an individual, lost and grieved

I’m not big enough!

I cannot dice myself small enough

To give an atom of myself to everything

I have tried and tried and measured and tried

My soul is being sliced to smithereens

I was not created to be global!

The world doesn’t care about my miscarriage!

It is one number in billions.

The globe didn’t wait for the test results with us

The nations didn’t come with me to my follow-up

My sister did.

My friends did.

The creatures and people in front of me did.

I am not an ocean, deep and unfathomable

With infinite resources to share away with care

I am a small pond, possibly a puddle

To sustain the life within and around me.

I am not big enough.

I am not supposed to be.

Who is my neighbor?

The people in front of me.

Myself.

Me.

#personal #poetry #mental health #mental illness #grief #loss #suicidality

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stardust-in-my-mind-blog · 2 months ago

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digging up bones

I guess if I'm up and already in a bad mood about it

might as well go through some of the thoughts

I was thinking about unearthing later on today

maybe it'll exhaust me and I can go back to sleep

my mood can't get worse and there is no dopamine

anywhere to be found because I've exhausted all sources

let's talk about why I don't want to get a therapist

by collecting quotes from experiences from the past

I had one who decided to laugh in my face about

my love for Jung and my thinking I was autistic

his ego couldn't handle my knowing shit about myself

and other things he couldn't quite grasp

once during a conversation about my childhood sexual abuse

he actually said to me with no sense of his depravity

"no wonder they couldn't resist you"

what the actual fuck my dude I was a child

he stopped seeing me when I turned the tables on him

and got him to confess all the things he used to do

when he was a dangerous guy just like his father

by mimicking his behavior and following his patterns

kind of seems like that pattern recognition and masking

should have rang a few bells but he didn't want to believe it

he told me my feminine energy was weaker than his male energy

but he sterilized himself like a gelding because he feared

bringing another kid into the world that felt

as fucked up as he did every day

I guess I'm still kind of mad at him

I think he might have been one of the first people I trusted

with all those dirty little secrets I was forced to hold since I was born

I didn't plan to become the therapist and hear his story

I was just following the rhythm of the conversation

but once he lost the power he felt he didn't want to look me

again in the eyes and it was confusing

because nothing he said was even that bad

my most recent therapy experience was marriage counseling

I knew that was going to be a fucking joke

and I was so used to being silenced by the man in the room

that I exploded out in a monologue of trauma dumping

desperate to be seen as someone who was tough and dealt with shit

far worse than the lanky bastard sitting next to me

who wouldn't let me have emotions without trying

to smother me under every avoidant wall of stone

ugh, I do not want to be awake and I'm so angry

and not even fun arson angry just petulant and mean

I did end that therapy experience with a three page letter

I wrote about all the reasons I was completely

over my doomed marriage and the man involved in it

and all the reasons he wasn't shit

but written eloquently and logically

because I'd had plenty of time to prepare

It was fun having an audience and his surprised pikachu face

will always be one that I remember fondly

fuck you asshole you know what you've been doing

the female therapist I went to the year before

to tell about the patterns of abusive behavior I'd documented

and the reasons I had for needing to leave the dysfunction

was met by a woman the age of my mother

who must have saw a silly daughter making a mistake

because she asked if psychological abuse was his only sin

and told me successful men were hard to find

I had fun the rest of the sessions talking about how

out of all the religious texts I read the bible was the most dry

and boring and I just wish I could get into it

and all the crosses and scriptures she had around her office

and the way her face pinched when I said those things

really made it difficult for us to synch up after that

to be fair I was always willing to make it work

I did have one therapist that was the best

her name was Elise and it scares me to think of calling her

I wonder if it's because of the unpaid account

or the fear of rejection or knowing I get to tell her

how everything went to shit after I came into her office

with my youngest as a baby and a glowing happiness

to my presence because I thought I finally

found something that I ended up losing as time went on

well, saying that I lost it is not very accurate

you don't lose someone's respect

they decide to stop giving it to you

and I have a difficult time tolerating that in relationships

I will blind myself for awhile but there does come a point

where something clicks and suddenly I'm on fire

because I'll be damned and choose damnation

before I let a little bitch boy like that make me die

it would be so fucking easy to make him cry

well, this little think piece shows I definitely need a therapist

and I guess getting those shitty thoughts out is one less thing

I have to muddle through tomorrow to find motivation

I'll call Elise and see if I have problems to solve

to get to go back and see her

she saw me and knew me right away

and she helped me get through a situation

that I'm going to have to walk through again

and she was great at it last time

fuuuuuuck this all sucks and I hate it

custody battles and shitty apartments and lawyers

building another new life and climbing out of another grave

it could be worse

I could be as scared as I was last time when I did it

I'm not scared I just know it's going to suck

Elise was the first one to coin the term "the Dani filter"

to describe the way I mask in my bubbly upbeat way

I wonder what she'll think of me now if we get to meet again

I think she'll appreciate my darker wit and my cynical smile

she knew how my mind worked right away

and said that I changed her mind completely

about behavior theory because I guess

when I decide to do or become something

and actually commit to it I surprised her with how

I can change my behavior and patterns on a dime

and never go back to them

you wouldn't know anything about that, would you?

alright now I feel like I did something

so my mood is less angsty and I have a move to make

still not tired but maybe that'll come soon

call Elise tomorrow and if that doesn't pan out

it's back to the drawing board

but I'll find someone and it'll be fine

and if it's not I'll find someone else

I am getting the fuck out of this stagnant energy

otherwise I'm going to start getting destructive

and that helps nobody

especially not me

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whatsonmedia · 8 months ago

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Autism, Anxiety and Me

Ever Wanted to Have an Understanding of Autism, Let's Go. Now there are very few things to watch on terrestrial television which address a good deal of the issues faced by those with Autism, and by their families to. So, you can imagine how fascinating and emotional it was when TV Presenter Chris Packham had his two-part documentary; Inside Our Autistic Minds, was shown on BBC 2. This was of course a repeat as it had been shown last year. I didn't actually realize this and only made this discovery when they had Ken Bruce on the show, mainly because in his episode he was still on Radio 2 when now he's on Greater Hits Radio. Anyway, back to the programme. I actually found it as educational as I did entertain. Not only that but I found it to be insightful for my parents with whom I was watching it with. In the first episode they were talking to a female stand-up and Ken and his wife whilst talking about their son. The son is Autistic and is also nonverbal. During the programme there was a moment when my mum turned and said to me "is that what it's like for you?", to which my reply was "yes, occasionally". Both in that moment and after the episode had finished, I just wanted to give my mum a massive hug, mainly because we both found it a little bit emotional to watch but also to tell her that for as long as I've known her, she's been a wonderfully supportive mum. And of course, my dad. What I did notice though was that the episode led to a conversation, which in my view was much needed. During the two episodes there was varying degrees of Autism that was seen. Some where the people were nonverbal, some where the slightest unplanned change in routines caused moments of anxiety, especially when those with the issues don't know it's coming. Another thing we saw, and which I genuinely found interesting was around the whole concept of 'masking'. Masking is a process where those who do it learn how to behave in certain ways so as to blend in more with others. I openly admit that this is something that I have done a few times myself. Hand on my heart it's not always easy and there are times I just don't want to do it, not because I don't feel uncomfortable with it but rather, I just can't be bothered. Other issues that were looked at was around time and sensory overload. Time is one which I am all too familiar with, sometimes it's an Autism thing, other times it's because I don't want to hang around any longer than I can be bothered to. Sensory Overload is one that I do have an understanding of but even then, I do find myself questioning it on whether I am doing it because it's part of my Autism or if it's the racket just doing my head in. For me, from my perspective, the two parter, I felt, dealt with the subject of Autism brilliantly and reminded me that that with each Autistic individual there is a person who has a mind, can think and is capable of observing the world. I think that it may have been in the first episode Chris made a statement that I genuinely believe makes a great deal of sense and should be taken into close account. I can't remember exactly what he said word for word but the basic gist of it was that if you see one Autistic person then you have only seen one person with Autism. If you see two then you have only seen two. If you see seven then you have only seen seven. In other words what he was saying was that we have to dispose of this 'seen one you've seen them all' attitude. For someone like myself who has High Functioning Autism/Aspergers, this is a statement that I have lived with for a long time and will continue to live with and abide by. Now some of this attitude is from my own experiences of being Autistic, others I'm glad to say is what I have adopted. No two people on the spectrum are the same and never will be. The people who appeared on the programme all had varying degrees of the problem, and even I have met with people who are various places on the spectrum. According to a survey about 1-2% of people in the UK are on the Autistic Spectrum, I am one of them. There's supposed to be five different types of Autism Asperger’s Syndrome, which is where I am Rett Syndrome Childhood Disintegrative Disorder (CDD) Kanner’s Syndrome & Pervasive Developmental Disorder – Not Otherwise Specified (PDD-NOS) If you want to understand the Autistic Spectrum, be prepared to have your attitudes towards it challenged. Believe me, if you can alter your attitudes towards it, you'll be doing a big favour for people like me and many others https://www.nickransom.co.uk/news/inside-our-autistic-minds-launch https://www.integrityinc.org/what-are-the-5-types-of-autism/#:~:text=Therearefivemajortypes,developmentaldisordernototherwisespecified. Read the full article

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mothlegs · 1 year ago

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did nottt like this one

the first i remember of the dream was a chimera priest- as in, he had two sets of dna, and his blood wouldnt be shown as being his

i follow him around for a bit in the car, only seeing him in moonlight from the windows

it's around 3am, it's an hour earlier when i wake up

i have trouble processing what he's saying, he talks about swearing on the bible, its relation to blood, and then we go downstairs and he starts chopping vegetables.

i ask him why so early, i dont remelber what exactly he answers other than "besides, ive already talked to my mom"

oh also. because i've been asked about it somewhat recently- this dream was in english, i distinctly remember the priest speaking english and myself speaking english, though when i was with the rest of my house i'm not sure if they spoke english or danish

somehow i come to the conclusion that the priest has been possessed by ghosts. he said that he was the man me and asriel saw standing over our bed. i confusedly questioned it, he reconfirmed that i and astiel dreemurr had slept in the same bed and had seen him in our room. i had no memory of this and told him so

i ask if he has trouble sleeping, he says yes and i say i do too (true irl)

at some point during this i think about my mom, wondering if she had been possessed(?) too. something to do with my tiktok join date which was apparently in april i think, the 25th..? i had to find someone who knew me before that date, i think something related to plurality and imitative DID

then it sorta transistions to not being about me, but some woman instead? and she married the priest. someone said it was like she had married twins, and his stories were inconsistent, like one day saying he was finnish and the next day he wasn't (this was specifically what was said, as well as a bit more details i dont remember)

i think around this i remember swiping through tiktoks with someone by my side, think to show him something. then pretty much all the videos were of this nonverbal autistic guy (real person) doing a buncha things, including playing rugby?

transitions to me being in my room and very dizzy. i go out to the hall, theres a bathroom to my left, V says something to A about keeping me in check. i sort of question it, dont think i get an answer. A is cleaning? i said something about being dizzy i think, and something was said about one contact person noticing and the other not, but not actually just like... theoretical..? idk words

oh and this was in my old group but with the people from my current group, slight layout change too. there was a flock of adults by the office, including M (used to be my contact irl) and Mw (adult i like) and some others i cant recall

V misgenders me when referring to me but then corrects himself? made me happy ehe. we all go into A's room and talk about the weirdness. A said for him it was like everything was becoming darker and low resolution, while for me it felt like the world was tilting- the dizziness i mentioned.

i think this was where i woke myself up intentionally, but not entirely sure

at other points in the dream, it really functioned the same just in different settings. like something about being in the mall parking lot with my grandma, and moving things from one car to the other. there was something about weapping breasts in clear plastic that im pretty sure was sexual..? but it wasnt a sexy dream at all. something about someone (in the mall?) wanting to show off her breasts and me being interested in the appearance of how the clear plastic changed how it looked..?? i. do not know how to describe it but it really was not sexy to me it was just interesting. i have that a lot too irl hoh...aceness intensifies lol

but moving things between cars. there were 4(?) glitches bottles, which i dont think were safe to drink from since the glitches had left the water open to air. one of the bottles didnt have a neck, it just curved around it, and i showed it to my grandma and a lady who was standing next to the car.

my grandma seemed...out of it, not quite there mentally, as i tried to make a system for sorting it. i said we'd sort it based on if we wanted to keep it or not, and the keeping stuff would be moved to the other car

one of my irl plushies, Peter Pilot, was there but had no clothes and har leaves stuck in his fur. i considered him and decided to keep him. my grandma's spacyness was making me uncomfortable. i think the car was covered in fur(?idk if thats the word, could be a rug or steeringwheel-cover texture too idk)

some other related dream, i was with...3? people. i don't remember much except them deforming, losing ability to speak and melding into inhuman shapes, impossibly wide mouthes and big heads

and then. i dreamt basil detransitioned and everyone left me. but i think this was the first dream i had

ky said something about having become friends with basil again because of him having changed to a cool pfp. i asked to see it and his bio. i dont think ky ever replied, but referred to him with she/her during the dream. this probably comes from basil having changes his name on discord to his old name irl, though not one he ever used while knowing me. now im wondering if thats the point of it, yet he kept the name i gave him to match mine. betrayer. but anyways

i looked and saw sleepy was away, had the same status as irl, but then later i looked back and their name had changed, something about being logged off. they had a bio now, i dont remember the specifics but it said theyd be gone for an unspecified amount of time. it was out of nowhere and without warning. i remember half seriously wondering if they were testing me to see if i would become bad like i was before

i saw one person typing in a dm, but then stopped, and then another person did as well but... at first these two were the same person, but then when the second started typing, the first became another person

think thats all i remember. it was all very incredibly disorienting, strong dissociation the entire time, strong disconnect and maybe even loss of reality. scary

#dream #dreams #dream log #dream journal

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alyssamental · 1 year ago

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No one really talks about the mental adjustment of starting over.

In March of 2021 I moved across the country to a state I'd only visited once, in a relationship that was never going to last forever (though I thought it would at the time). A year passed in a wink, and suddenly I found myself mourning my relationship as any remaining winter chill left us. My only local friend being the now-ex boyfriend, I felt a sense of loneliness I never thought possible.

Despite the climb, I was lucky enough to meet the love of my life 6 months later. Born and raised in my new home, my lover had a full life. Friends, family, activities and a sense of place. I was also special enough to be welcomed in with open arms. Moving in at four months together was never on my 2023 bingo card, but it was meant to be (magically and fiscally... thanks housing market). I've lived in this beautiful little town for four months now. While I would never change a thing, I never considered the long and rough process of not only healing from my old life, but also acclimating into everyone else's.

Being new in a family, friend group, and place is exciting... but scary. Only time can take away the awkward beginnings and small talk. I want so desperately to fit in and fast forward to the greatest parts, though I know once I get there, I'll look back lovingly. While working from home and deciding to leave college aspirations behind, I have no easy way to make new, local, connections. My hobbies revolve around the online world, so how am I supposed to find my group when I'm such a homebody? Sometimes I feel like if I didn't switch to bi-weekly therapy sessions, I'd lose the last bit of myself that I've kept.

On top of everything else, I'm autistic. That's the first time I've said that confidently, though I lack an official diagnosis. I've considered it more than a dozen times, but am pushed back by the cost and possible cons it comes with. I'm afraid. Until my current partner, I've always felt completely alone. Even in the few good relationships I've had, I always still felt some barrier between them and me. Even when I was small, I felt different. I don't mean that in a silly quirky girly way. I mean that in a deep dark horrific way where I always felt no one wanted me around. Some made it very clear to my face, while others made fun of me instead for being ugly or annoying. I was lucky, as my best friend from childhood never let those people affect our friendship. While everyone wanted to be her friend, she was always mine and never left me behind.

The struggles to feel wanted didn't stop at home. "Can you just stop talking?", "be quiet!", "I'm not going out with you wearing that.". I never felt it was okay to fully be myself. Always felt I had to be moving to function. Spinning, moving my legs, making noises, singing, getting easily excited but also easily upset. Over time I learned what to say to make others happy. To fit in better. To be liked. I found writing and it became my personality and existence. I saved my true self for those who stuck around. A rare few, until I left my hometown and realized I shouldn't have to save my real self for those who felt safe. I shouldn't have to pretend to be someone else because of fear. I shouldn't care how others feel about me in the first 5 minutes of meeting. I should just be me.... how do I do that?

I've asked myself that almost every day, and I can't remember exactly when it started. Sometime after leaving the state I used to call home, and instead found home in a person rather than a place on a map. Now, in the best place I've ever been, I feel myself being thrown back and forth from loving this real me and my anxiety telling me how no one will like her and to just go back to how I once was, knowing I can't. How do autistic women find friendships in adulthood? I hardly ever say it aloud because while I see self-diagnosis as valid for others, it feels bad for myself. My therapist said it could be childhood trauma, not autism, as they present similarly. I don't know how that makes me feel.

Regardless, I'll keep going. I'm afraid of all the times I'll feel like this in the future (so aware of my own existence and loneliness and how long the path is ahead), but I can't stop. I can't run away. I won't. I'll just keep going until I figure it out. It's what I'd advise to anyone else. "You can do it. You've come so far, and you're magnificent the way you are."

#autism #journaling #trauma #adulthood #healing

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this-is-a-love-story-isnt-it · 2 years ago

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I posted 1,425 times in 2022

That's 9 more posts than 2021!

384 posts created (27%)

1,041 posts reblogged (73%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@moonwalkingspidersfrommars

@stellaluna33

@this-is-a-love-story-isnt-it

@inthetags

@oldnewyork

I tagged 774 of my posts in 2022

Only 46% of my posts had no tags

#mad about you - 71 posts

#paul buchman - 61 posts

#jamie buchman - 47 posts

#judging amy - 39 posts

#cute - 39 posts

#seven of nine - 35 posts

#me - 34 posts

#cats - 29 posts

#art - 25 posts

#private practice - 22 posts

Longest Tag: 116 characters

#one person was just like ‘oh it’s just a tool that draws inspiration from things around it. that’s what artists do.’

My Top Posts in 2022:

One of Spock’s most autistic-coded-character moments in Strange New Worlds:

Pike: “Do you want some coffee?” Spock: “I do not drink coffee. I do drink tea.” Pike: “All right. Would you like some tea?” Spock: “No, thank you, captain.”

😂 just clarifying the fact for accuracy even though he doesn’t want any

66 notes - Posted July 8, 2022

See the full post

71 notes - Posted December 24, 2022

Uhura and Spock singing major chords in a cave on a comet in order to communicate with it is what Star Trek is all about, tbh.

113 notes - Posted May 12, 2022

See the full post

412 notes - Posted October 11, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Ok, so I just watched Stranger Things 4 again but only the Robin/Steve/Nancy/Dustin/Max/Eddie/Lucas scenes, and I think that the writers 100% purposely made Robin autistic. I don't think it was accidental. Back in the 70s and 80s autism wasn't really a thing that doctors knew much about, and for YEARS they also thought only boys could have autism. So it's not going to be an actual thing in the story where Robin is like diagnosed or even suspects it, but there were too many autistic traits for it to be an accident. And I really like the way the writers did it. She's not nerdy or super awkward and overly quirky all the time. She is those things, but they're not "weird", if you know what I mean. But I remember the first time I watched it, the biggest thing that stuck out to me was when she kept asking Nancy if she was mad at her because Nancy was basically not being very friendly and Robin said she can't always tell if she annoys people because she's bad at picking up on social cues, which her mom reminds her of daily. Then there was the thing where she had to wear Nancy's clothes and she complained about how uncomfortable they were. Like she was so distracted the whole time because they felt scratchy and that the bra was digging into her… then she had a sensory overload outburst (sensory issues common in people with autism- commonly with clothes). Then when the police were escorting them out, the cop touched her arm when she turned to look at something and she spazzed out and sharply said "don't touch me" (autistic people commonly don't want to be touched or only like being touched on our terms). When Nancy said they had to run to the car and Robin said something like she's a bad runner because she has horrible coordination and it took her 6 months longer to learn to walk than all the other babies. And then how she would sometimes just interject in conversations with something super random and they'd all be like, "...okay?" Oh then when they were in the Upside-Down and trying to communicate with the others at the Wheeler's house, so they put their hands up to the lights and there was that like sparkly energy field around it or something, and someone said "It tingles" and Robin said, "It feels good." That's totally related to the sensory thing. I'm the same way- some things are so uncomfortable for me, but I also can't help touching things- like I have to know what things feel like and then I'll just keep touching it if it feels really cool. Oh, and then when she said her biggest fear was rabies? so random. and she knew so much stuff about it and was kind of obsessed with it for like a whole scene. Just so many things like that, and the first time around I didn't pick up on all of them, so rewatching those scenes with that lens was really fun and helped me notice more autistic traits in her. But I loved that she did have friends- they were just cool and loved her quirks (or with Nancy, she just put up with them even though Robin annoyed her so much). And she wasn't overly "weird". And she's smart without being nerdy. I guess I just really appreciate that the writers didn't go for the stereotypes and kind of naturally let those traits be revealed throughout the season.

472 notes - Posted May 31, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #My own blog was my 3rd most reblogged blog lmao #i just reblog my own posts a lot bc my Mad Aboit You posts sometimes het no notes the first time

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alwayschasingrainbows · 9 months ago

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To be honest, I am wondering about it myself... I think she might have been at least autistic-coded? She definitely has some signs of this: being afraid of any change (even the tiniest changes, such as somebody moving a chair from its place), existing in her own world...

But on the other hand, Pat is also very good at reading other people's emotions (such as taking Hilary's hand when he felt down, stroking his head etc.) She is described as being "wise beyond her years" when it came to understanding other people's feelings. And iirc (I may be wrong!) the difficulty of "putting oneself in another person's shoes" is a sign of autism?

I am not sure how to "diagnose" Pat, tbh. Maybe she suffered from this: "The fear of change, or metathesiophobia , is a phobia that causes people to avoid changing their circumstances due to being extremely afraid of the unknown."

Although I have never felt that she was scared of the unknown... rather, that she didn't like changes because she wanted to freeze the time, the moments of happiness? Or because she was afraid of losing her family (such as Winnie and Sid marrying, Joe moving out)?

I remember reading a post here on Tumblr where someone said "Montgomery was so gifted at writing autistic-coded girls", so we are definitely not the only ones!

A few weeks ago we had an ND event at my workplace and one of the speakers talked about how, when she got diagnosed with autism in adulthood, it made sense to her why she hated change even when she was a child. Bc I was reading the book at that time, my mind immediately went to Pat of Silver Bush. Who hates change. Somebody must have suggested this sometime, but could Pat be autistic?

#l.m. montgomery #pat of silver bush #autism #neurodiversity

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caramello-styles · 2 years ago

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“Though there are many sayings, life is to gladly become a piece of coal for someone other than myself. From the day the floors grow cold to the day spring comes, the most beautiful thing in the streets of the Korean peninsula is a truck that fervidly climbs up the hill with coal. As if it knows what it has to do, coal burns endlessly once its body catches fire, but I was oblivious even though I had warm rice and soup every day.

Because I feared becoming a lonely lump of ashes after loving others with my whole being, I haven’t become coal for anyone. When I think about it, life is to shatter myself into pieces. I had never thought of clearing the streets for others to tread when the world is slippery from early morning snow.

”

— Extraordinary Attorney Woo, Episode 12.

#MOOTS PLS JUST IGNORE #priceless moment when they listened to attorney ryu reciting this poem— it was so calming even youngwoo entered her dolphin moment #I think this could be youngwoo’s breakthrough to be someone’s ~coal~ and care for others #remember when she said being autistic felt like it was only her and her world— perhaps we could see her development caring for others #or be more flexible #or be more understanding about context and tone that were hidden behind words #soooo many possibilities #also lowkey want youngwoo to stay in hanbada and change the way they work and choose clients to defend #better yet if she just resign and build her own firm still in south korea and be more successful than hanbada and taesan #I’d love to see tae sumi fuming lol #I’m done rambling mweheh as always pls don’t mind me #extraordinary attorney woo #JEJU ISLAND HERE WE GO #als

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vivithefolle · 2 years ago

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The thing about Rowling is that she bases a lot of characters on people she knows or knew irl. So you have these perfectly decent characters and she just doesn't have a clue how they work internally.

Exactly! I've answered a Quora question on that, previously.

Below, the text of said answer:

Did J.K. Rowling base any of her characters on herself or people she knows personally?

Pretty much all of them?

She said there was “a bit of her in every of her characters". Which tends to happen naturally when you write.

(For example, being autistic, I tend to write characters as very introspective and remembering small details about a lot of stuff and being able to perform literary analysis in the middle of conversation. I've been informed that this is not how the “average" human works. So when I write a character, I often end up making them autistic because that's literally how my brain works. It's unfathomable to me that you wouldn't be paralyzed with fear by the idea of making a decision. Taking an opportunity on the fly, throwing your whole world off-balance with just one gratuitous action? What folly is this??)

According to Rowling, “I married Harry Potter. I married a very brave and gutsy person. And that's who Harry is”. Okay, so before Sauron and Acidic Virtuesignaller come crawling out the woodwork, I would like for us all to consider the implications: so Harry is “a very brave and gutsy person", and that's all. That's the only qualifier for Harry. To be Harry you need to be brave and gutsy. It's not like there's a construct in this series that's literally called The House Of The Brave. With a magic sword that only comes to those that are brave and gutsy enough to wield it. Which three people in the books have used that sword? Harry, Ron, and Neville. If only Harry was “very brave and gutsy" then what are we calling Ron and Neville? Hermione? Ginny? Luna? Snape? Dumbledore? Ok so there we go, if the requirement to be Harry is “be very brave and gutsy" then I can point to half a dozen characters that have the same characteristic ON TOP OF having an actual personality.

Ron was based on Rowling's childhood friend who owned a blue Ford Anglia. Based on Rowling's later comments about having “dated Ron" in her youth, we can infer that Rowling wrote into Ron some of the bad behaviours of guys she'd dated, probably with the idea of having him outgrow them (but considering how much she seems to enjoy writing Ron getting punished for these behaviours…). Some of the things she'd felt about poverty are spoken from Ron's mouth in GOF, and the Locket's tirade is a dead ringer (albeit with the genders reversed) for what she reported her father told her about how he'd rather have had a son.

Hermione is according to JKR a caricature of how she was when she was younger. “I wasn't that clever, but I was that annoying on occasion". I doubt JKR got invited to a ball by a super famous athlete though.

Snape was allegedly based on her chemistry teacher, John Nettleship, who was autistic and I can believe would have made jokes that wouldn't necessarily land as such (solidarity 😔✊). However I believe Snape was very much a caricature and an exaggeration instead of a “100% authentic" portrait of John Nettleship, even if he later came to call the character “me". Rowling needed her Mean Teacher archetype after all.

Cuthbert Binns, the ghost teacher of History that is excruciatingly droll and boring, seems to be a summation of Rowling's thoughts about his subject. Also a convenient way of forgoing worldbuilding.

Mothers are a very important part of Rowling's world. Lily's sacrifice defines the entire series, Molly Weasley is a strong presence through the books and sends Bellatrix's fanatic arse to Hell, Merope Gaunt's refusal to live shapes Voldemort into who he is, Narcissa Malfoy lies to Voldemort in exchange for her son's safety, even Barty Crouch Jr's mother made the ultimate sacrifice by switching places with her son in Azkaban. The only mother figure that isn't positive is Walburga Black, and even she gets to have a humanizing moment when Hermione theorizes that she was kind to Kreacher in DH. All this takes on a whole new meaning when you learn that JKR wrote the first Harry Potter in the wake of her mother's death.

By contrast, father figures are much less revered, and again it is directly a result of JKR herself: she had a notoriously bad relationship with her father, Peter James Rowling. One can postulate that Peter Pettigrew's name wasn't all a matter of alliteration, and that James Potter's redemption was the sort of thing Rowling might have wished of her own father.

Pansy Parkinson was a conglomerate of all the girls who bullied Rowling at school.

Umbridge was based on a work colleague - though she's apparently another conglomerate character - who hid nastiness behind a syrupy sweet exterior. Umbridge is often said to be the worst villain in Harry Potter - because while few people ever experience a genocidal terrorist stalking them, many have met someone like Umbridge who abuse their power just because they enjoy feeling in control of others.

The Death Eaters in general were based on the IRA, but took more cues from Nazi Germany in Deathly Hallows.

#vivi answers #harry potter #hp meta #harry potter meta #meta #jk rowling #ron weasley #hermione granger #molly weasley #peter pettigrew #james potter #severus snape #dolores umbridge #death eaters

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boldlyvoid · 3 years ago

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New Romantics | Part Four

18+

Summary: She needs help studying for her Case Exercises at the Academy, He needs a date for the annual Banquet... they just so happen to be neighbours who aren't afraid to lend a helping hand, or in this case, a helping kiss.

Categories: Fake dating, neighbours, strangers to lovers, mutual pining, Angst with a happy ending, Smut *as selected by my poll on what you wanted to read*

Warnings: Season 9 Spencer (no Maeve arc), Angst, kissing, drinking, police training mentions, case details, canon typical violence, self-doubt, autistic!spencer, age gaps (24/33), FWB relationships, anxiety attacks, crying, misunderstandings, oral sex (both), penetrative sex, Perv!Spencer low-key, public sex, quickies, multiple orgasms,

Word Count: 5k

a/n: what could possibly go wrong next?

She’s been asleep barely 2 hours when he shakes her awake, “Hey, when did you need to get ready today?”

“Uh?” She sits up and rubs her eyes, “we don’t have to leave until 1 so, like 11?”

“It’s 8:30, did you want to stay and sleep more?”

She looks at him and sighs, “are we okay?”

He nods, “can we just call it even?”

“Sure,” she agrees without knowing what she did wrong. It was more than just snapping on Tuesday, which is what she was still hurt over. “But I’m going to go, I need to change and stuff.”

“Yeah,” he nods but his smile is sad and she knows she’s fucking it up more.

She gets out of his bed, once it was the warmest bed she’s ever known. Any bed she shared with him was, but now it felt cold and uninviting and there was an unspoken knowingness that they were both genuinely upset.

“I’m still your fake girlfriend for the next 24 hours… can we make them count?” She asks, avoiding eye contact so he can't see her cry if he says no.

“Come here?”

She gets back into the bed and she cuddles into his chest. He holds her for a moment, “you’ve been the best girlfriend in the whole world. Do you really still want to be friends after this? Have I fucked up that bad?”

“Oh honey,” she places a hand on his cheek and looks at him softly, “I will be your neighbour, your best friend, your co-worker, carpool buddy, coffee friend, girlfriend, whatever you need as long as you’d like to have me around.”

He remembers the first time she said that and she knows because his smile is the same. “I love you.”

It hurts, “I love you, too.”

She kisses him quickly, attempting to pull back when his fingers grip her hair and his tongue is on her lips and she’s following his lead again.

“No,” she whispers, “I can’t.”

“Oh,” he stops and his hands drop to his sides so she can get back up.

“I’m going to go get ready, but I’ll come back when I’m done?”

“Yeah,” he nods again.

It breaks her heart to get up and go, she grabs her shoes and she sneaks out of his room, finding her keys in her pocket, she opens her own door and cries the second the door closes.

She cries in the shower, she cries while fixes her hair, she cries while she has lunch. Every song reminds her of the situation, every section of her apartment reminds her of him, the stupid door where they first kissed is closed and she wishes he was stable enough to bang on it and demand an answer.

Whatever was going on between them was reaching a bubbling over point, she can only store so much emotion before she explodes on him.

As soon as she is in her dress, makeup on and ready to go, she walks into his apartment to find him struggling with his bowtie, it makes her smile for the first time since she left his room this morning, “need help?”

“Yes, please.”

She walks over to him and repeats the same movements he attempted, making the bow look pretty before smoothing her hands over his dress shirt and looking up at him. “Handsome as ever.”

“You’re always beautiful,” he compliments her right back but his voice is still as sad as the night before.

“Are you ever going to tell me what’s going on in there?” She pries, tapping his temple with her index finger, “you’re my best friend and I don’t like seeing you sad.”

“I heard what you said yesterday,” he whispers, “about how if you were just using someone you would have picked Derek.”

“And?” She doesn’t get why it’s a big deal because it makes perfect sense to her in her mind.

“And it hurt me,” he snaps, “quite a lot!?”

And the dam breaks.

“Because I proved to them that I’m not using you? Spencer do you know what I meant by that?” She snaps right back.

“What else could it mean?! Clearly I’m not hot enough for you to just fuck and toss aside—”

“I meant that I love you and that’s why I’m with you! If I was just using someone for a job then I’d fuck Derek cause he’s a one and done, toss them to the side and never see them again, kind of guy!”

“And?” He repeats her word choice in a snippy tone that makes her furious but she knows he’s just trying his best to understand her.

She sighs loudly and obnoxiously, “and you’re a take him to meet your mom, marry and have his babies, love him for the rest of your life and one day scatter his ashes, kind of lover.” Crying by the end, she wipes her tears and tries to stay somewhat presentable-looking.

He’s silent, eyes wide as he takes in all her words, “I have always loved you,” she adds, “and no matter how fucking angry I am or how stressed or upset, I am never going to stop loving you, Spencer.”

“Me either,” his tone is still just as upset, “and that's the part that sucks.”

“What do you mean?” She just poured her heart out to him and he still doesn’t get it.

“I LOVE YOU!” He screams it at her with his hands thrown in the air, “I love you more than I’ve loved anyone in my entire fucking life and it’s driving me crazy!”

“It’s driving you crazy?” She can’t help but laugh like she’s losing her mind, “I have been doing everything in my power to make you understand that I love you and you keep thinking I just want to be friends!”

“Because you said you loved me like a friend the first time?!”

“No, I fucking didn’t!” She is so frustrated she’s turning the same colour as her dress, steaming from her ears like a cartoon character.

“I asked if best friends can be in love because I wanted to see if you would say you loved me more than that, and then you fucking said “yeah cause that’s how I love you” which means you love me as a friend?!”

“Because I thought that’s what you wanted?!”

She can’t rub her eyes cause she’ll ruin her makeup but she is so mad she just wants to scream. Pressing her fingers to her own temples, she turns away from him and sighs, she loves him so much and yet this is the most frustrating thing that’s ever happened.

“You are so lucky,” she just laughs, shaking her head back and forth as she turns back to him, “you are so fuckin’ lucky.”

“Why?”

She wraps her arms around his middle and looks up into his eyes with one last sigh, “we have to go or we’ll be late, so I can’t explain all of my feelings right now, so let’s bench this conversation and I can show you just how much I love you when we get back?”

“Okay,” he nods. He rests his hands on her arms and he looks down with the softest glance, he’s still trying so hard to not cry. “I’m really sorry.”

“So am I, I should have listened to you better and explained myself more,” she whispers, “do you believe me now?”

He nods, “I told you, it’s hard for me.”

“I tried my best to be subtle so I didn’t scare you off, but I guess you really don’t do subtle?” She can’t help but laugh, “but I really do love you.”

His hands are on her cheeks, pulling her into a kiss, she melts against him. He breathes her in, it’s the longest and deepest kiss she’s ever had and she honestly feels like he’s taking her soul and making her his. She belongs to him and she knows it, now he does too.

“I love you, too.”

—

All eyes are on her and it makes him smile, she’s the only one in a red dress in a room full of black and white, she stands out like a sore thumb. She looks the most beautiful, she stands beside Spencer with her arm wrapped around his and a huge smile on her face, it makes him even happier to see her smile again.

The hardest part of fighting with her was knowing she was upset and that he was only making it worse. Seeing her smile return is everything to him, he loves her more than words can express and she loves him right back, he can tell by the way she smiles at him; because it’s exactly the same way he’s smiling at her.

“I see that you’ve made up,” Derek interrupts their current dance to say hello.

The BAU team was always so busy on nights like this, they had all the best stories and everyone wanted to hear them, which meant they typically didn’t see each other a lot for the whole night.

“We did,” Spencer smiles. “Thank’s Derek.”

She looks up at them both, confused, “how many of them know?”

“Huh?” He plays dumb but she can see right through him.

“Do they all know I’m not really your girlfriend or is it just Aaron, Derek and whoever else you told?”

“Elle,” he says her name. “I told the first girl I slept with that I was falling in love with you because I needed advice from someone who has already been with me and knows how I get.”

“Sick, cool, love that for you,” she smiles and walks away.

He grabs her and she stops, “I told you how much it hurt that I had no one to talk to and you told all of them? And you couldn’t even tell me you really loved me this whole time? I thought we were best friends Spencer?” She shakes her head, disappointed more than anything, swatting his hand off her as he reaches to stop her.

“Let her go, she’s right to be a little mad,” Derek holds him back. “let her be mad.”

“Why?” Spencer is so new to relationships he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

“She wants to be your girlfriend for real, let her calm down and then go apologize and ask her,” Derek's smile is sweet as he pulls Spencer into a hug.

It slowly becomes a dance, everyone is used to Derek being touchy with his friends, he has danced with everyone so far tonight so it’s only fair Spencer has a turn. Spencer holds him tight, eyes closed so he doesn’t have to think about all the attention he’s been getting since they arrived.

“Thank you for always being here for me,” he whispers, “but I have to go see her.”

“Fights like this just make your relationship stronger, it teaches you how she wants you to communicate, she just wants you to be honest with her, always,” he whispers with his cheek pressed to Spencer's, “and angry make-up sex is really fun.”

It makes him laugh, “thanks, but she won’t be sleeping with me for a few days, if my memory is correct then she’s mad for more than one reason.”

“Ah,” Derek gets it, “good luck my friend. Good luck.”

When Spencer pulls away, he heads in the direction Y/N left and follows the hallway as far as it goes. She’s sitting on a bench by a window, staring off at the night sky as she takes some deep breaths. She looks a little more peaceful, she’s had a really rough few weeks and he’s not making it any easier on her.

“I know two things for sure,” he speaks softly but she still jumps a little as she turns to him.

“What would they be?”

“That you’re the love of my life,” he’s confident as he sits on the bench beside her and takes her hand in his. “And I’m an idiot when it comes to love.”

“That is quite the dilemma,” she smirks, her eyes gleam as she looks at him and he knows she was trying not to cry by how glossy they are, but it makes her more beautiful, somehow.

“I’m really sorry.”

“All you have to do is tell me the truth, Spencer,” she places her hand on his leg and leans in with a whisper, “it’s really simple.”

“Truth is,” he whispers right back, lips close enough to kiss, “I’m never going to stop loving you, which means more stupid moments are in my future. Just so you know.”

She giggles and kisses him quickly, “I don’t mind being the smart one in the relationship, but you still have to ask.”

“Will you be my girlfriend and let me love you for the rest of my life, no matter how much I fuck up and drive you crazy?” He teases her, knowing she’ll say yes regardless.

“On one condition,” she can’t hide the smirk on her face and he’s nervous at what she’s thinking.

“Anything?”

“You let me love you for just as long? If not longer.”

He nods, “forever?”

She nods back before kissing him just as deeply as they did that morning, her hands in his hair as she presses his face into her’s with force. She holds him there and breathes him in, pulling back with a classic smooch sound, she smiles again, “you’re my boyfriend now.”

He nods with a small smile, “what should we do first as boyfriend and girlfriend?”

She bites her lip and pretends to think about it for a moment, “fuck in the linen closet down the hall?”

“I don’t have any condoms on me?” Is his only worry, not getting caught, not that all their bosses and superiors were there, just that he didn’t have a condom.

She pulls one out of her bra with a smile, “Savannah gave this to me about 3 minutes before you came over here.”

“How much make-up sex do they have?” He asks as he takes her hand and leads her down the hallway.

She’s giddy and smiling, her heels click on the floor as they rush to the other end of the hall and open the little door. There are shelves with towels and rolls upon rolls of silverware in cloth napkins. A vacuum in the corner, some brooms and just enough room for them.

She pulls him in closer and shuts the door, reconnecting their lips as she pushes him up against it. Hands reaching for his belt she kisses down his neck and he’s like putty in her hands as soon as she strokes him, he moans by accident and she covers his mouth with her free hand.

“Do you have any idea how turned on you make me? I have wanted to fuck you since I first saw you, 6 years ago…”

“Really?” His muffled voice behind her hand makes her laugh. She removes her hand and instead runs her fingers through his hair while taking a moment to look at him and really take it all in.

“Yeah,” she nods, “which is why I asked to sleep with you on the way home from the bar, I didn’t know if I could handle it either it, but I’ve always wanted Doctor Reid from the BAU to rail me. I just didn’t think we’d end up falling in love?”

“No one has ever admitted to having a crush on me and meant it,” he whispers.

“I’m glad I get to be one of your firsts,” she smiles again before he pulls her into another kiss.

She kisses the side of his mouth and then his jaw, down his neck and then she’s dropping to her knees in front of him. He’s hard in her hands but he twitches as he sees her like this, looking up at him with lust-blown eyes as she strokes him, she flattens her tongue and taps the tip of his cock to it.

He has to cover his own mouth or else he’s going to get them caught, he moans at the feeling, closing his eyes and that's when she takes him in her mouth. His free hand is in her hair, careful not to mess it up but enough grip to steady himself.

He tilts his head back against the door with a knock and a sign, “fuck,” he can’t help but talk into his hand which only makes it sound louder in the tight space.

She feels so good every single time and yet this one feels different, he looks down at her and she pulls off, “what’s wrong?”

“I love you,” he shrugs.

He helps her back up to her feet and she backs up against the shelves, “come here?”

He helps her hike her dress up, holding all the material up as he slips her underwear off and takes that condom back out of her bra with a single kiss to her chest. He rolls it over himself and lines up with her, her arms wrap around his shoulders as she looks at him, “show me how much you love me?”

He slides in and they don’t break eye contact as she takes him, her mouth opens in a silent gasp at the feeling, her hands grip his shoulders tighter as she steadies her ass on a shelf and wraps her legs around him while he bottoms out.

With a hand on her cheek and one on her lower back, he pulls out and thrusts back in with a smile as she bites back a moan, she pulls his face in close to hers to kiss him while he fucks her. The hand on his cheek slides down her neck, applying a small amount of pressure that makes her breathing hitch. She swallows sharply before his hand starts to trail over her breasts and then between them.

With a thumb on her clit, he fucks her a little harder while rubbing his thumb in a circle. She’s breathing heavily into his mouth, placing sloppy kisses against each other as they enjoyed each other.

She’s so close and he knows it, and then there is a knock on the door.

“Spence, we have a case when you’re done?” He hears Derek's voice behind the door and he can’t believe it.

“Okay!” He calls back without stopping, instead, he fucks into her a little faster.

“Oh!” She moans by accident before covering her mouth with a slap and wide eyes, moaning behind her hand as she bounces on his cock.

He kisses her hand, making her move it so he can press his lips back to hers and absorb all the noises she was going to make, her hands both reach for his back, gripping his suit jacket so tight he’s afraid she might rip it.

She cums with a shocked gasp, it’s as quiet as possible but it still echos around them as he gets closer and closer. He buries his face in her neck and accidentally moans as well as he cums, stilling his hips as he holds her there, sputtering his hips against hers as they catch their breath.

“I love you,” he manages to say between breaths, “that much.”

“You need to go,” she smiles.

He kisses her one last time before he pulls out, he loves the way she gasps every time he does so. She smiles after, their teeth clashing as they laugh, “I’m going to get in so much trouble.”

“I’m never going to get a job,” she shakes her head as she gets off the shelf and fixes her dress.

He takes off the condom and wraps it in some paper towel on the shelf, he’ll get rid of it later. She picks up her underwear, he thinks she puts them back on, but she really slides them into his pocket for him to find in the middle of the case when he reaches for something important...

—

She rides back to headquarters with Penelope and JJ, both of them want to ask and she knows it. Mainly because she looks like she’s had sex, and also because she asks to stop at the academy so she can get another pair of underwear from her locker.

It’s not until they’re in Penelope’s office that they ask, “what’s it like?”

“What’s what like?” She plays dumb.

“Dating Spencer?” Penelope says, “more specifically, having sex with him?” She mumbles and it makes Y/N laugh.

“In total, we’ve been having sex for 3 weeks now and I’ve had 21 orgasms, and we only really fuck on the weekends cause that’s when we’re not busy…” she grinds her teeth slightly with a raised brow, taking a deep breath, “yeah. It’s really great.”

“Holy shit?” They both look more shocked than she’s ever seen them. “How many has he had?” Penelope asks with a quiet voice, pretending she didn’t.

She laughs slightly, “like maybe 14? He’s really generous.”

“What the fuck?” JJ turns to Penelope and shakes her head and there’s something more there that Y/N can sense.

“Who’s Elle?” She asks and they both turn to her with the biggest eyes.

“How do you know about Elle?”

“She’s the first person he slept with?”

“When?” They both shout.

“So he wasn’t kidding. You guys really thought he was a virgin this whole time?” She looks at them like they’re crazy. “How?”

They both just shake their heads and sigh, stuttering and looking for words they don’t have. “We just never thought he could?”

“Snooze ya loose, I guess?” She shrugs, “so what is the case and how can I help?”

“Right! We have a case,” Penelope snaps back into it, “but seriously Elle? Are you sure you have your names right?”

“Penelope,” she looks at her seriously.

“Right, they’re headed to Roanoke.”

There was a child abduction of a 6-year-old girl, CARD and the BAU were both called out and that meant everyone was mingling on the two floors and they would use as much help as possible.

It also turns out that Anderson’s surrogate went into labour a little earlier than anyone expected; so he and his husband have left for paternity leave early. Leaving JJ without an assistant and she really needs help in the office for this one.

She catches on rather quickly, knowing the protocols from her training and she’s not afraid to ask questions. She’s still in her dress, her heels click on the tiles as she rushes around with files, making phone calls and running from the briefing room to Penelope’s office.

When they finally crack the case and apprehend the suspect, she sits down finally. It’s been 11 hours since the banquet, and she was exhausted beyond belief. She never slept the night before, Spencer was uncomfortable and she was in her jeans and when she did fall asleep, he was waking her up moments later to get ready.

It's Sunday morning at 9 am when Spencer finally returns back at headquarters. She’s sitting at his desk when he comes up and wraps his arms around her, “we’re going home, come on.”

“Don’t you have to debrief?”

“Did that on the way back,” he turns her around in the role chair and tilts her head up to look at him, she’s so tired and he can tell. “You have a big day tomorrow.”

“Ugh,” she stands up with his help, “I did enough profiling today and now I have a whole week to get through.”

“Just to come back and work here,” he smiles, “if you still want to?”

She wraps him up in a real hug and nods against him, “it’s so fun, even with all the murder.”

“Coming home to this is really nice,” he whispers before kissing her cheek quickly, “I’m glad you like it here.”

“Well, well, well,” Derek's voice is behind them. They pull away to see him smiling, arms wide as he saunters over, “if it isn’t the new romantics.”

“Did you have any suspicions?” Y/N asks, he was a profiler after all.

“I knew something was up,” he’s honest. “I knew you guys were actually doing stuff together, I just didn’t think there was so much angst behind closed doors?”

“You have no idea,” Y/N laughs, holding Spencer closer, “it took too long.”

“I thought you were fighting about the job, cause he wasn’t really upset until you were in Penelope’s office, and I heard the rumours even before he heard what you said,” Derek smiles again, “but I also knew you loved him and he loves you.”

“Correct,” she can’t help but smile. “But we really should head home.”

“Home we go,” Spencer agrees.

—

She asks him to unzip her dress the second they’re back in her apartment. She drops the dress to the floor and heads to the bathroom and he’s left alone in her room. It feels different now. He remembers kissing her in the living room for the first time like it was yesterday, he remembers the first time they had sex, the first time he said I love you, and now he’s here and she’s his girlfriend and he’s going to get to make more memories with her.

He’s so embarrassed by how much he’s been crying lately, something about being in his mid-30s was making him feel like he was about to go through menopause— he has never been very openly emotional, but it’s about time he lets himself feel. He wipes the tears and turns to face the wall while he takes his suit off.

He’s been through too much, a lot of which she doesn’t know of. She has promised him forever, whether she means it or not, and he’s worried he’s going to fuck it up before he gets there.

When she comes back, she lays a towel down on her side of the bed and gets in, “guess who got her period on her first day of work?”

“No?” He gasps, playing along with her playful mood. “At least you’re not pregnant.”

“Thank god,” she sighs, “please for the love of God, don’t get me pregnant for at least 5 years? I want a decent career first so that I don't miss much on maternity leave. I really don't want to be benched for having kids.”

He cries again and she looks so concerned as she gets out of bed and wraps her arms around him, “what did I say wrong, Spencer?”

Still facing the wall, he just lets it all out, “I’m sorry.”

“For what, sweetheart?” She attempts to soothe him by running her hands down his arms, “for crying or something else?”

“Crying,” he whispers and she turns him around then.

“Hey,” she looks up at him with the softest expression he’s ever seen, “you are allowed to have emotions, you are allowed to show them and ask for help and tell me when you need something. I’m not going to think you’re too much, or I can’t handle you or think of you as a burden. I know that’s how you feel because it’s how I fell, and we don’t need to go through that together.”

“I love you,” it’s the only thing that feels right to say.

“I love you,” she repeats it, “what made you cry?”

“Can we get in bed first?”

“Yeah, finish getting ready and then come tell me,” she whispers before reaching up and pressing a kiss to his lips.

He slips away to go to the bathroom, brushing his teeth and washing his face. He’s exhausted but he doesn’t want to miss any time with her. He hurries back to her side, getting into bed in his underwear and making sure both his phones are on the night table, charged and ready if they need him.

But until then, he belonged to her.

“Are you sure you don’t want to sleep?” It’s the first thing he asks because he knows she has a big day tomorrow. “It can wait.”

“What’s that thing you say about intermittent sleep is actually better?”

“Don’t use my words against me, I do that so people don’t stop me from doing what I think I deserve,” he’s truthful. “I’m not going to ever lie or fib to you again. I hate myself, and if I don’t feel like I’ve done enough I won't sleep or eat sometimes.”

“I do that too,” she’s not proud, “are you trying to tell me you cried cause you’re hungry or tired?”

“No,” he smiles, “but thank you for asking for clarification, I like this new system.”

“Me too.”

“I cried because I really love you and I’m realizing this is all real and I’m going to get to make good memories with you, and when you said kids, even in a hypothetical sense, it made it feel real for me,” he whispers the words before pressing his lips together awkwardly.

She glows in the lap light like she did that first night, “it’s a weird concept, isn’t it? The future. At some point I’m going to have known you longer than anyone, one day we’ll have lived with each other longer than we’ve lived apart. We might be grandparents together one day? It’s all weird to think about.”

“Do you seriously want all that with me?” He’s asking because he has another question to ask right after.

“Yes, Spencer,” she laughs. “I really do.”

“Would you like to Marry me?”

“Seriously?” Her eyes widen and her jaw drops and he’s never seen her look this stunned before.

He nods, “my mom isn’t going to able to appreciate my wedding the longer I wait, and if you really mean it; I’d like to have a wedding with my mom there while she remembers me.”

“I know her birthday is coming up, but can we bring her here instead?”

“Why?”

“My parents decided to drive from Salam to here for my graduation and use the flight money on a nice Airbnb for the week. We should do it while they’re all here because I don’t know when they’d be able to come back,” she has had the same worries about her parents missing her life.

“I’ll ask my mom,” he smiles. “So we’re getting married?”

“in like a week,” she laughs, “oh fuck, how are we going to do that in a week?”

He rolls over and grabs his personal phone, he dials a number and she looks even more confused now.

“Hey Penelope, how fast can you plan a wedding?”

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