#this essay was brought to you by my adhd

[tarn-ati0n]

Alright I bite, what is that to the moon/sigcorp stuff that suddenly popped up on your blog?

!Warning! By asking this question you have activated a category 9 ADHD fixation rant! Are you willing to proceed?

Tldr; To the moon is an absolutely fantastic story driven game and must be played/experienced by everyone.

The Sigmund-Corp series Is a small Indie-game franchise that follows the paths of Dr. Eva Rosalene and Dr. Neil Watts, whose job it is to fulfill dying patients their last wish.

To the moon was the first game in the series, and also the first game that was released by the independent studio Freebird Games.

The game was created, programmed, written, designed e.t.c. via RPG-Maker by Kan Gao. It was released on the first of November 2011, and got later on released again for steam in 2012.

Like I already said, these games are about two doctors who work for the so called Sigmund-Corporation, a corporation that allows dying people one last wish.

What is so special about their line of work is how they fulfill these wishes.

The doctors of Sigmund Corp enter the memories of their patients to literally rewrite them.

So, let’s say you lived your live, we’re overall kinda happy with it, but deeply regret things like never admitting to someone that you love them or had to see a friend die without saying goodbye. Then these doctors will rewrite your memory so that of course, nothing changed in the real world, but in your mind your wish was granted.

Of course rewriting memories doesn’t come without cost. By changing an aspect of your life there will always be consequences for it, which is why this method of fulfilling dreams has caused to protests in front of the Sigmund corp.

Because let’s say that both you and your best friend have grown old together. You knew each other since forever and grew very close. No they are sadly about to die, but not without sending a wish to the Sigmund corp first. You may not even know what they wished for, because unless they told you about it it is kept secret. But you know that there are currently complete strangers walking around and changing their memories. What if one of the changes they make has the consequence that you two never met? Sure, that wouldn’t change anything here, but remember, these are the memories that they die with.

After that depressing little trip, let me explain how these memories changes work.

The first thing the doctors do whenever they enter a mind is jumping to the nearest accessible point in their memory. Normally this is right after or before their visit to the Sigmund corp.

In that part they can talk to a copy of their clients consciousness, where they get to know more about their wish.

In the first game, to the moon, their clients wish is, surprise surprise, to go to the moon.

From that point on they have to backwards through the clients memory, to implant that wish into the child version of their client. Once that is done, the system will make it so that their life is the one that will get their wish fulfilled.

I’m absolutely not going in on the plot more than that, I can’t say enough how great it is to experience to the moon and the rest of the series for the first time. Seriously, take my word on that, it is absolutely worth your time.

Warning you now though, it WILL leave you a sobbing mess once you’re done with it. I also can’t stress that part enough. Whatever you do, DONT play every game one after another, your mental state will never forgive you if you do (<- speaking from experience, I was a fool)

So instead of talking about what happens, I’ll talk about the games itself and why it’s great.

-The Story

The whole concept of going through and changing peoples memory already had me from the start, and then they topped it off with such beautiful story’s that make me cry every time I play them. It’s unbelievable how good these stories are

-The Characters

The two main Characters are incredible likable, with Dr. Watts being the comic relief character and always having the best comedic moments, and Dr. Ros Alene being so fed up with his bullshit every time he does something stupid. Their Dynamic is everything to me your honor

The other Characters are amazing and fleshed out as well. Of course the character you always get to know best is the client in each game, since the game revolves around their lives

-The Music

Each piece in the ost is either a soft piano or a somber music box. And it’s… so good, like so great, I mean absolutely incredible, I’m talking “if I hear this piece I just feel like crying all over again”, I-

It’s good, just take my word of it.

-Autism representation

This game has by far the best representation for Autism I have seen, PERIOD. It openly talks about how it sucks to constantly be cast out, to act “normal”, to bury your personality just so others would be at least decent towards you. And all that in 2011. But probably my favorite thing about it is, autism is never the butt of jokes. Yes, actually good jokes with autistic characters. I didn’t believe it was possible either.

Still not convinced? I know I hype this series to the moon (heh) but it’s completely justified in my eyes. If you’re considering playing it (do it) but don’t want to immediately buy the game and first see if it would be something you enjoy (fair), I recommend this video:

It’s a one and a half Hour long best of from a stream, but I think that it’s still a great way to experience the game.

But I’m still of the opinion that playing it yourself is the best way to get into it.

Thank you for coming to my Ted talk.

PS: I couldn’t bother to check this thing for any typing errors. If you see one, sorry.

[rimouskis]

okay I've decided against pursuing any sort of diagnosis re: my growing suspicions I have ADHD/something of that ilk for a variety of reasons, but it will NEVER stop galling me how I lack object permanence. like a baby. I need to have clear storage containers because if I cannot see something I forget it exists. it's both a relief to know that there is a potential "explanation" for such behavior but also realizing that most other people can do convenient things (like: remembering the existence of stuff) is also FRUSTRATINGGGG because I wish that was me! imagine being able to remember things not only casually but well! imagine that! god!

[lostgirlmuseum]

Pulse 💗

Summary: Bucky can hear your heartbeat through the wall, and he can tell everything isn’t alright.

Pairing: Bucky x gn!Reader

Words: 600 (exactly 600, holy moly)

Warnings: None really, just mentions of anxiety and adhd. Wrote this within an hour, sorry if its bad

A/N: Self indulgent fic alert! This goes out to all my peeps who struggle with ADHD/anxiety. It sucks, but hang in there!

Divider credit: @saradika

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Come in,” you called, not looking up from the papers on your desk.

A brief second passed, and the door creaked open. A cautious Bucky peeked his head in.

“Hey, are you okay?” He asked.

You suddenly became aware of your leg bouncing 70 miles an hour, and forced yourself to stop. 

“Yes, why?” You replied, ignoring the urge to get up and walk around.

“Well, I—” he hesitated, and brought his hand to rub the back of his neck, “I was passing by and I heard your heartbeat going really fast—super hearing and all that,” he awkwardly chuckled.

“120,” you stated, glancing at your watch.

“What?”

“My heart rate is 120 right now.”

“That’s pretty high for just sitting,” he responded, having a hard time hiding his concern.

“Well, y’know, anxiety,” you breathily laughed, but it wasn’t that funny.

“What are you anxious about? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Nothing.” You sighed, lowering your pen and facing him. At this point he was now in your room, perched in front of your door.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing.”

“Seriously, I’m kinda freaking out over nothing right now.”

“C’mon, you’re always telling me I’m valid for having concerns, you are too.”

“No, I mean there is literally no singular thing I’m anxious about right now—it’s just physical anxiety, the general feeling that I’m going crazy, or dying, I don’t know, both I guess. That sounds so dramatic. I really am fine. I mean, I’m not fine, but I am, yeah?” You rambled on and on, and cursed yourself when you noticed your leg had started bouncing again.

“I don’t think you’re okay, do you want me to bring you to Dr. Cho?”

“That’s sweet of you, but I don’t think there’s much she can do. The worst of this should pass in thirty minutes anyway, it’s just my meds.”

“Oh.” 

You could tell Bucky wanted to ask more, but wasn’t sure if it was polite.

“I have ADD. ADHD, whatever you want to call it. So I take medicine so I can focus on certain tasks, like these reports. And it does help me focus, but it’s also a stimulant, so it also gives me a lot of anxiety, which is totally awesome!” You scoffed.

“Why do you keep stopping your leg from bouncing?”

“I don’t know, I don’t want to annoy you.”

“If bouncing your leg makes you feel better, it doesn’t bother me.”

“I feel like I’m embarrassing myself,” you whined. 

Beep.

You looked at your watch.

“Oh, look at that, 126!”

“Do you—would…would a hug be something that would help you? Calm you down?” He offered, casually putting his arms out for emphasis.

“Sure, Bucky,” you smiled, and stood up to meet him halfway. You knew it wouldn’t fix it, but it certainly couldn’t hurt.

Bucky wrapped you in a big embrace, and you were shocked by how warm and teddy-like it was. You gave a small sigh, and rested your face in his neck, knowing you weren’t going to be the first to let go.

He held onto you for longer than you expected, just calmly swaying together in your room. 

To your dismay, he eventually let go of you. You were about to thank him and return to your work, but he gently grabbed your wrist and brought your watch to his sight. 

“107. Good, but I think we can do better than that,” he sweetly smiled, and wrapped you back up into his arms. 

“It might take a while.” You mumbled into his shirt.

“As long as it takes.” He cooed.

A/N: Should be either A) studying for a history exam I have tmw, or B) writing my stupid essay that the rough draft is due tmw, but I wrote this instead bc I’m procrastinating  HELP ME

[vivianbernadetteaurora]

Observations astrology

I don’t know what it is about Pisces film females but they have the most beautiful area of their face which consists of their lips cheeks and mouth where it’s very flashy like that is the only way I can describe it but it’s really beautiful like their mouth, face and mouth and head almost like oval shaped And like really juicy look kind of like Taurus but in a different kind of way that’s the only way I can explain it? Like I say rising like little baby little chubby like Megan Thee Stallion like chubby lips and that and cute little lips and yeah just suck kind

Aries and not that bad they fallen in love with you. I think they could be really faithful and they get a lot of slack but I don’t think that’s why and that’s coming from somebody who went out with an Aries who essayed me.

Pisces men with a lot of Aries in their chart gives psychopathic energy. I was with this man for five years you had this and I was absolutely obsessed with him. He brought out the best in me. He made me feel like never ever man before after he has diagnosed ASD.

Man will literally go out and say that flirting with someone and saying how beautiful someone else’s so I don’t think they ever really get into someone to that degree because there’s always other options plenty more fish in the sea

Sagittarius women, I find with Scorpio placements very terrifying and very aloof but dark at the same time and they can come across is really scary and really but almost like a bully but do not give the same energy, the man don’t give us the same energy maybe they do to other men, but obviously I don’t know cause I’m not a man obviously.

I wish I knew more Capricorns because they seem chill and loyal, but I just don’t seem to have them come into my life

people who have a ascendant Libra, relationships are very very young age and could be married a couple of times or could’ve got married very young and you know why this is it is literally because they’re seventh house? 🏡 Aries house seventh Aries usually the 1st to do something the first person who won survivor was an Aries, because Aries do seem to do things very young e.g. for example losing their virginity they often of♈️ very young, age relationships, and like I said marrying young, maybe even a loping and secret

Maybe a shotgun wedding,

Example of this my Nan, who is a libra rising and a lot of Aries  in the charts in the seventh house r, so it has the air of Libra more to it not getting married very young, because everything in that seventh house 🏠 Aries. ♈️ end up doing things at the youngest, because they are the baby of the zodiac . they will either get married young, a shotgun wedding, they might lose their virginity young, my sister who is Aries 🌞, they might start doing drugs young like my ex-boyfriend who was at Mars and Venus in Aries he started smoking weed at like eight.

Or to give you another example of a libra rising my Nan, who is an Aries son so her son moon and mercury sitting in the seventh house, pregnant 15 and had to get married that’s what happened back then she was a catholic and Irish, and she married this alcoholic piece of shit sorry my grandad, who treated my dad and the rest of his siblings like shit, this is just an example of what happens if you are a libra rising, like I said it’s not always the case, I look at Anna Nicole Smith she married young but she married a very older man, Beyoncé is surprisingly a Libra rising, and met Jay-Z when she was very young.

People with there mars in Gemini ♊️ live wires, they also have the extremely restless ADHD energy. They can’t sit still for five minutes. I have to always be doing, unless they have other aspects that tone is down, but most of them have this going on until some degree

[dk-ghostmachines]

i gotta talk about FourDogs

I really do. 'Cause I posted a lil' passive-aggressive hot take a few days ago, but this is Tumblr not TikTok. Here we can have our 60-second hot takes and eat our long essays too. Kipperlilly Copperkettle was introduced as a rival in episode 3, after which there were a number of posts criticizing The Bad Kids' response to her, labeling it disproportionately mean at best and bullying at worst. I think that's an unfair reading of that interaction and I'm gonna talk about why.

Now, I'll be the first to admit that it's parasocial as fuck over here and The Bad Kids are my personal best friends actually, so where necessary I'll do my best to separate the ((loyalist ride-or-die-bad-boys-for-lyfe emotional reactions)) from the actual points I'm trying to make.

((That being said, the fuck was FourDogs talking about? Y'know? Like what was she on about, for real?))

Here's what's true: over the course of their time at Aguefort, three adults directly related to The Bad Kids - Jawbone, Gorthalax, and Gilear - have been instated as faculty or staff. And if I'm a third-party, especially another student, then for sure. It's giving nepotism, it's giving cronyism, and I'm drinking my Haterade about it every morning. But favoritism is about treatment. It's about actions, rewards, benefits - and ma'am, if you're gonna levy a charge like that, I'm afraid you're gonna need receipts!

What actual benefits have The Bad Kids received from the school that is not available to other students? In freshman and sophomore year, The Bad Kids get detention like anybody else, they don't make it on the Bloodrush team, Gorgug in particular was always not doing great in Barbarian class, they take their midterms, they have to complete the big 60%-of-the-grade spring break project, etc. And now this year, Fig is getting punished for not going to class, Kristen is getting consequences specific to being a kid with ADHD who doesn't live at home anymore, Gorgug's still getting the literal opposite of favoritism from Porter, and Riz, Adaine, and Fabian are all getting the treatment from professors that is proportional for historically successful students in good academic standing.

((And someone else brought this up but, re:that 60%-of-the-grade project, miss ma'am, what were you doing in the Far Haven Woods?? In addition to saving the world again, The Bad Kids endured borderline psychological torture for their final grade, while the Buttcrushers got to step on bugs in the neutral zone??? But they're the privileged ones, no, for sure))

Whether or not saving the world is as big a deal in-universe as it would be in our real world is up for debate. Brennan said it was an outstanding feat in the scope of student adventuring at Aguefort to consistently complete Class B and C quests, but then, when TBK comes back from Hot Yorb Summer everyone acts like they went on a class trip to Six Flags. Either way, unearned success is the wiiiiiildest claim to lay at the feet of consistent world-savers.

Freshmen year it was the Helioic Fundamentalist Apocalypse and the Emperor of the Red Wastes. Sophomore year it was the Nightmare King and the Night Yorb. They've saved the whole school, they've saved specific students at the school. They My Little Pony-ed Ragh, one of the biggest actual bullies Aguefort had, and then Fabian killed toxic masculinity! Even if the favoritism was in the room with us, would it not be the natural result of all this hero shit??? Aguefort hasn't done The Bad Kids any favors he wouldn't do for the rest of the student body, but even if he had I'd get it because KRISTEN APPLEBEES SNUCK HIM INTO HEAVEN AND THEN BROUGHT HIS ASS BACK TO LIFE.

Again, maybe not remarkable in a world where Revivify is just a thing you can learn, but y'know! Shit!! Diamonds aren't free!!

Also FourDogs' whole tone of disdain for the "eccentricity" of Arthur Aguefort's administrative decisions truly boggles the mind, because we found out in freshmen year that he has some kind of mass Power Word over the government of Solace that allows the students of his school to do crimes, AND in sophomore year he has that auto-call-ex-machina that students can evoke when they're in danger overseas. His "eccentricity" is the reason the school can function at all, put some respect on man's name.

Now, let's get word-perfect.

That's the American Psychological Association.

And that's StopBullying.gov, which is managed by the Department of Health and Human Services.

Here's what's true. At moment 00:00 of their relationship, Kristen said something pretty freakin' mean to Kipperlilly for an audience of her friends with like, no provocation.

Kipperlily then revealed that she has based her entire campaign around addressing the perceived privilege that "some students" have under Arthur Aguefort's rules. And THEN, Jawbone revealed that Kipperlilly had been snooping around asking questions about Kristen's relationships with her god and trying to get general dirt on The Bad Kids. BUT WAIT THERE'S MORE, in the preview for episode 6, we get Murph's line of "Kipperlilly's team is trying to get us kicked out of school".

Does that excuse the thing Kristen said ((yes it was hilarious)), no. Not at all. She didn't know that stuff, Kipperlilly just failed a vibe check. In the moment though, that's all it was. The Bad Kids met someone they didn't like and perceived as a threat, and Kipperlilly had something mean said to her by people she already didn't like and already wants to see brought down. While she was not threatening them in that moment, Kipperlilly is a threat. She's not a victim, she is an equal with opposing goals. And now that Ruben has the song of the summer, The Buttcrushers are probably just as popular as The Bad Kids. There is no greater imbalance, they're just adversaries.

Ultimately, Kipperlilly's got them fucked up. But she's a kid. Kids are allowed to get shit fucked up and misdirect their anger at systemic unfairness. TBK are also kids and well within their rights to feel what they felt when Four Dogs walked up with self-righteous vibes and started yappin about academic privilege in what is already the most academically stressful year of their lives.

As the audience, we not only know all the shit TBK has gone through that Kipperlilly does not, we also are aware of how Brennan is introducing her in the story. As soon as he brings her into the scene, you know what's up. The voice he gives her, the tone, the actual things he's saying - if you watch everyone's face after the line about favoritism gets dropped it's the culmination of the whole interaction. Oh, she's our enemy, like our specific enemy and her team is coming for us, specifically.

So what do we gain from ignoring all that? From ignoring the JUICE of this rivalry and flattening it into "the bad kids were mean :/". I actually love Kipperlilly, the rivalry is giving and I love feeling big emotions and getting to use angry, feral, fandom language. FourDogs, can't wait to see you next week, and I can't wait to read the 40k word, FourDogsxKristen, enemies-to-lovers fics. And y'know, shout out to all the people who kin her because she found the rogue teacher, it's pretty goated, I won't lie.

But also. Bad Kids Supremacy. Buttcrushers, stay mad.

[itsaspectrumcomic]

hi im really sorry to bother you, and obvs you dont need to answer this at all im just some internet guy lol but do you think i could get some advice?

so ive been diagnosed with autism for like, 5 years (was diagnosed p late, in comparison to others) and im beginning to have some real goddamn big suspicions that i Also have adhd (because. yaknow. the gift that keeps on giving yk? lol). i have a lot of really major issues with executive dysfunction that is directly impacting schoolwork and also a lot of stuff in my life, generally. ive also got a lot of memory issues nd junk

and the thing is; ive got a therapist, but due to a whole slew of things im really scared to like, bring this up with her yk? and, like, im a minor so i cant exactly just seek it out myself yk? and i cant really talk to my parents about it because my mom is a very specific kind of vaguely ableist and my dad generally just isnt involved with that whole section of my being, yk? like, he doesnt manage any of my therapy, aside from bringing me to appointments when my mother isnt available.

and like, ive brought certain things UP to my therapist before and it went mostly ok, aside from one pretty distressing misunderstanding but it feels different for this one because i really do need medication for this, i feel. and thats a whole thing with my mother specifically, since at the start of the whole diagnosis process she outright refused the idea of medication and like. idk man, im so super sorry to write a whole bullshit essay when you're literally just vibing but yk. idk who else to ask lol, and you seem like you know what youre doing i guess?

real sorry. thanks in advance. insert other applicable signoff message here

I'm sorry you're struggling with this. Your therapist should be someone you can talk to about things like this but I understand being anxious about it. Are you afraid to bring it up because she's said ableist/anti-adhd stuff in the past or you have reason to suspect she won't help? If that's the case I really recommend trying to get a different therapist if you can. You deserve a therapist you feel safe sharing things like this with.

If it's impacting schoolwork it might be worth talking to your teachers to see if there's any additional support you can get from them. You don't have to tell them you suspect ADHD if you don't want to, you can just tell them you've been struggling with certain aspects of school and hopefully they can help. School is hard for lots of people so know you're not alone.

It might be different where you live, but in the UK you're able to make your own doctors appointments if you're over 16 so asking a doctor about getting a referral for a diagnosis/medication could be an option as well. Although waiting lists for that are incredibly long at the moment - I've personally been waiting nearly a year just to get an appointment 🙃

In the meantime, have you heard of How to ADHD on YouTube? Her channel has lots of videos with advice and various discussions about living with ADHD which you might find helpful.

Sorry I don't know if that helped much but I hope you're able to get support soon!

[moltara]

i think i could write a ten page single-spaced essay about how much scathing hatred i hold towards my first therapist btw

CW: hospitalization and vague suicide mention

i dont know how she had the certification to practice tbh she was evil and horrible

not only is she the sole reason i was forced into psychiatric inpatient against my fucking will TWICE over one summer (INCLUDING ON MY BIRTHDAY) with little to no actual basis besides me mentioning being passively suicidal in the past

but there was the time i brought up potentially having BPD to her in high school she IMMEDIATELY glared at me and shut me down by saying "You do not have that. Never look up symptoms online." and then never brought it up again (btw this was the time tumblr was all about self diagnosing each other with personality disorders, it didn't take me long to realize i didn't have it but like. most good therapists will take you self diagnosing yourself as a learning point. it's more helpful to ask "well, what symptoms to you identify with?" and then work with you to process the things you're feeling than just silence your client and blame them for looking stuff up online, ESP WHEN YOUR CLIENT IS A 15 YEAR OLD HIGH SCHOOLER)

and then in college, i would frequently forget about our appointments because i have adhd and we had our dnd sessions on the same night as our telehealth appointments. EVERY TIME i forgot about an appointment, i'd receive a fucking seething phonecall from her where she would angrily threaten to take me off her client list if i missed another appointment. i explained to her multiple times that i had dnd on that night, but she never offered to reschedule my appointments to another night. she just would call me and scold me for twenty minutes each time

BUT THEN THE KICKER HERE was that when i graduated college and continued seeing her, she would CONSTANTLY miss our appointments and then blame her "system" for malfunctioning. like. for a given appointment date, there was a solid 75% chance she'd forget about the appointment and miss it. and i was expected to just deal with it??????????????????

[ciboriaadastra]

It's Blacktober, so I'm gonna be brave and drop all the Black headcanons I currently have for DC

Putting it under a read more because I added a lot more notes than I originally thought I was going to.

Dick Grayson — Afro-Romani. Nicknamed Cricket because he was a super skinny kid with ADHD who chattered almost nonstop

Jason Todd — Afro-Filipino (3rd generation). Nicknames include Jay-Jay, JT, Jaypee (spelled exactly that way), PJ, and Peter Poppins (he brought an umbrella to a cookout once because the forecast said it was gonna rain, somebody made fun of him, the nickname stuck). Jason Peter Todd just sounds like a name that's simultaneously Black and Filipino idk. Black Millennial name + I swear so many Filipinos are named Jason, especially in the U.S. They named him Peter after St. Peter (he doesn't have to come up with a Confirmation saint and name himself like I had to...man, Jason would be just old enough to get the sacrament just to die the same year.)

Selina Kyle — Eartha Kitt is my live action Catwoman. I need not say more.

Harvey Dent — Black mama and white dad. Old folks who knew him exclusively called him Junior, never by name. Harvey Dent just sounds like an old Black man's name too, like I'm pretty sure a distant cousin on my dad's side is called Harvey. Also, I never see Black characters as mob bosses, so I'm gonna lay my grubby little hands on him. I actually wrote a whole essay on the social commentary that could be explored if Harvey was a lightskinned Black man, but I'm gonna keep that to myself for now.

Minhkhoa Khan — Mom is Black, Malay, and Filipino. Dad is Chinese, Vietnamese, and Thai. I don't have nicknames for him yet (I'd also have to find an excuse for characters to give him any </3)

Walk with me on this one. I'm imagining this haircut as curly on top with a fade rather than just straight hair with an undercut. I don't think he has 4 type hair; but if he did have 4b or 4c, he'd be the guy who'd laser focus on picking his hair so he can ignore you </3

For his mullet era, see Prince for reference. I think people only hate mullets because they're almost always seen with straight hair, and straight hair cannot emulate the sheer cunt that curls serve in every moment tbh.

Also, this just looks like a durag to me. Seems to be tied like one. Every time someone draws this head covering, it looks exactly like a durag. What does he need a durag for if not to keep moisture and protect his curl pattern?

He's also my personal win for the kingdom of Blasia.

Halo from the Young Justice cartoon — she's mixed Black to me. I think Qurac is meant to based on Iraq? So maybe she's Black and Iraqi. idk I just think Black Muslims should be seen more in media.

Everyone in the Superfamily — I read that one post years ago about how logically Kryptonians should be darkskinned if their powers come from absorbing yellow son energy (people without color reflect it instead) + someone else talking about Afro-Latino Superboy. I agree with all their points (don't ask me for either of these posts, it was three fandom lifetimes ago).

Zatanna Zatara — that one post on twitter fancasting Ayo Edebiri as Zatanna. I am walking together with that person. I see the vision. A win for #BlackGirlMagic. Give "Justice League Dark" new meaning (you can throw tomatoes for that one)

[rocknrollsalad]

STWG Daily Prompt (Nov 19) - ADHD

✏️ pairing(s): stonathan

🖊️ Steve can't really focus or accomplish this task he doesn't even want to do. Of course, it's something he needs to do. Jonathan steps in to help in a few ways that really benefit Steve.

📄 content/trigger warnings: fire, house fires (hypothetical)

✏️ word count: 1343

“All you have left is the essay,” Jonathan said, shaking blank notebook pages in the air. They crinkled with anger his voice didn’t have.

“I’ve tried to write it, like, fifty times! I sit down at my desk and I think ‘yeah, this is it, I’m going to write this!’ and then I think ‘wow, when was the last time I washed the bath mats’ and then I’m downtown grabbing pizza with Dustin. Robin says it’s classic fear of failure. They can’t reject me if I don’t apply.”

“So glad she took Psych 101.”

“She’s kind of wrong though, right?” Steve stopped his pacing to look over at Jonathan, who still wore the same disappointed look that Steve so desperately wished had left by now.

“Uh, yeah.”

“I mean, we know they’re going to reject me. I don’t have to be afraid of it.”

And there the look goes. It’s replaced by this sadness Steve usually only sees sent Will’s way when he’s not looking. It doesn’t feel like an improvement.

“I just want to do something meaningful but I could, like, get a job at a pet shelter or something. That’s good. Old people need read to…okay, yeah. I see the problem with that one but you know what I mean.”

“Or you could do this and follow your dreams or whatever.”

Jonathan tossed the paper down on Steve’s desk the same way Steve’s dad did back when he helped with homework. All of it brought up this feeling of failure. Not of not knowing because Steve knew the stuff but yet he couldn’t sit down and get it on paper. Something that came so easily to other people, he couldn’t do. It frustrated his dad, mom, teachers, exes, and now Jonathan. A tradition Steve didn’t need to carry on.

He didn’t know how to distract Jonathan, how to switch the subject, and find something else to focus on. It wasn’t like he could bribe the guy or tempt him with a swimming pool they both avoided like the plague. Maybe Steve would get lucky and he’d be hungry.

As Steve ran through his choices, Jonathan was off doing his own thing. Something that collided when he put a Rubix Cube in Steve’s hand. “What the hell is this for?”

“Solve it,” he said simply.

“It’s impossible. You think I haven’t tried?”

“It’s not impossible.” Sitting down at Steve’s desk, no doubt rolling his eyes first, Jonathan looked back and silently added, “Get on with it.”

“Seriously, I’ve had this thing forever. It’s never going to be solved.”

“Okay, well Jim got one whole side green except the corner and it sits on our mantel like a Nobel Peace Prize. I never really thought he was smarter than you but maybe I was wrong.”

“No, no, no. I’m way smarter than Hopper. I can’t be–”

“Show me what you can do then.”

This almost felt like bait and Steve stared across the room through narrowed eyes, trying to figure it out, but decided it was the distraction he was looking for. Jonathan could do whatever and Steve had a fun but old problem to solve because he was definitely better than the former chief of police.

Wandering around the room, Steve shifted the block a couple of times as he studied what was where and what moved to where. He started to get a bit of plan when Jonathan perked up from what he was doing.

“If your house was on fire, like, right now…what would you save?”

“Am I the only one here? I mean, you, obviously.”

“Obviously,” he said with an eye roll Steve got to see this time.

Blowing a kiss back, Steve looked down to make sure he’d connected the two oranges.

“I think it’s safe to assume the people are out of the way. You and I were cooking, grease fire sort of thing and we got out in plenty of time. The fire department is on the way but things are catching fire fast.”

“Okay, just as easy. Mom would die if her photo albums didn’t survive. There are ones in there of when SHE was a kid. So I’d grab those but I feel like I’d also have time to grab some clothes. At least for you and I but maybe for my parents. Just, ya know, so we had something.”

“Clothes?”

“It’s kind of stupid but even if the firefighters put everything out before it wrecks our closets, the stuff is going to smell like smoke so it’s all gonna need cleaned. You know as well as I do how much changing into clean clothes makes things feel better.”

“You’re not wrong.”

“So, yeah. I’d grab us stuff like that. How much time do I have? I could get toothbrushes. If Mom and Dad are on vacation, they’ll be fine. It’s just me and you and mom’s pictures.”

“What about all these trophies?”

“What about them?” Steve scoffed, looking up and back down to work another orange onto the face he was working on. “A bunch of achievements that mean nothing, especially now. No one is impressed by this. Least of all me.”

Steve had resumed pacing in a circle at the foot of his bed. As he clicked the cube in all directions, he’d started to figure out how it worked a little better than he ever had before. A line of three was already beating his personal record but it was also giving him confidence he could complete the whole thing.

Jonathan was scribbling on paper and as much as Steve wanted to know what, he was too focused on this stupid cube.

They continued like this for a while. Jonathan asked a bunch of weird questions, they talked back and forth about the answers, and Steve wandered his room. Orange didn’t pan out but he was now halfway to a white face.

It was trying to get the sixth one in that was really starting to boil Steve’s blood. He knew how it needed to happen but wasn’t able to get it to work. Not wanting to mess up what he had too much to get the rest.

That was the same time Jonathan stepped up and placed and hand on top of the now messed-up side Steve had just clicked into. Looking at him to ask if he was looking to be murdered today but met with the softest smile. Immediately disarmed, Steve was left with comical annoyance.

“So you have a whole essay here. One that shows who you are and how you obnoxiously don’t think about anyone other than yourself. Not that it's worded that way, though. It’s good and any college would be stupid not to take you. You’re not bad at this, you’re bad at sitting still though.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“It’s not a bad thing.”

“You don’t say it like it’s a good thing.”

“Well, you’ll have to do a lot of it for a while if college is where you want to go. Starting later tonight, okay?”

“What! Why?” Steve’s head drops backward as he whines.

“Because I can’t write it for you. It’s gotta come from you but I got you a whole outline, quotes to work off of, it’s going to be turning it all around to get the cubes right okay? Make the puzzle work, it's easier than starting from nothing.”

“After dinner?”

“I don’t know, I might try and tire you out after dinner. See if that helps your focus.”

Before Steve’s brows can completely furrow everything clicks and his eyes go wide. “I have a lot of energy right now, I think.”

“Go for a fucking run then.”

There wasn’t any bite behind that but Steve was willing to play around and let Jonathan think he was hard to get. Tossing the Rubik’s cube to the desk, Steve played the game and he played it well. They had loads of time to “tire him out” before dinner. And maybe…if he was lucky, they could drag him through this essay too.

[liquorisce]

scarf girl & idiot boy

pairing: eren jaeger x mikasa ackerman

rating: t | read on ao3

summary: [Reincarnation AU. crackfic]

Eren is in his final year of high school. He's always been an imaginative kid but now his imagination won't seem to give him a break. As a result of intense flashbacks / dissociative episodes his therapist advises him to keep a journal, to get in touch with his emotions and let them all out.

Except it wasn't his imagination, these were his memories. Why doesn't anybody understand?!

…

“So, what about this girl?”

Right, Eren. What about this girl? As my mother asked me that, I was struck with this ridiculous urge to prattle on about how she had a scar on her right cheek, a mole right beneath that, and even though she usually kept her hair short, long hair was simply gorgeous on her. She was humanity’s strongest, and so fucking smart, she was incredible. She could do anything and excel at it; she was one of those people that you could trust with your life.

And how is it that despite not really knowing this girl, I knew so much about her? Fuck if I know. The only thing I did know, however: “I think she’s my wife. Sort of.”

Day 1 

Mom bought this notebook for me and told me I’m supposed to write in it every day. Journaling, she said. It’s good for you, Eren. It’ll help you sort out all those thoughts in your head. 

That’s what she called it. Thoughts in my head. That’s what she told the doctor the first time she brought me in. My son, you see, he’s a good kid. He’s got a lot of spirit. He’s very intelligent. But. And here was the kicker, there was always a but. He gets lost in his thoughts, sometimes. And then he doesn’t come out. Even if I shake him. I feel like he’s someplace else, you know. 

Well, yes, it turns out the good doctor did know. Or he had some theories, anyway. ADHD was the top favourite, it was an easy one for Mom and Dad to digest. Tons of kids have it. It was one of those disorders that parents could swallow because it didn’t mean their kid didn’t have potential. It was a better alternative than plain delusional, I suppose.

I’d heard it my whole damn life. 

Eren, you’re distracted. 

Eren where’d you go off to? 

Eren. 

Eren. 

Ereh. 

I had one of those short names that people liked to use like punctuation. But nobody said my name right. It’s a peculiar thing, but I was convinced my name wasn’t meant to be pronounced with the full N, it was meant to end on a faint sound, somewhat breathy, somewhat feminine…

Ugh. This is the problem. None of it feels right, because I already know what is right. I’ve experienced it before. It’s in my memories. But nobody understands that. They say I have an active imagination. When I was a kid apparently I had an imaginary friend, too. A blonde wimp named Armin who needed my help to deal with bullies. When I was younger I believed it when Mom gently broke it to me that he wasn’t real, but now I’m not sure anymore. Sometimes when I stand in a group of friends, his sparkling blue eyes and his golden bowl cut feel more real than the faces in front of me.

But this is all I’ve got to figure it out. It’s you and me, motherfucker. So go on and do your Tom Riddle thing where you make sense of things to me, because I’m dying to hear it. 

Day 3 

I forgot to write yesterday because I’m not really good at keeping up with a habit. Or writing for that matter. I’m okay at school essays and like, some short stories I wrote as a kid were decent, but I never really thought of making a hobby out of it. And writing about myself too, why would I do that? I have to spend enough time inside this head of mine feeling absolutely crazy and out of control, I don’t know how writing down what’s in my head is supposed to make it any better. 

But mom yelled at me to journal, so here I am. 

She’s pissy because I turned up today with godawful marks on my french test, ten out of forty scribbled in big red letters. In my defence, I only attempted the first thirteen questions, because my brain kind of froze up mid-test when I got these weird flashes of sitting in a classroom with wooden desks and a crazy brown-haired person with goggles on their head trying to teach us about human-eating monsters. It sounds wild to me even as I write it, but trust me that shit was real. They were big and red and butt-ugly and I’m convinced that I’ve repressed some particularly traumatic memories of them breaking people in half like Twix and popping them in their mouths. I think the feeling of watching something like that never goes away, no matter how many lives you lead. 

I’d like to imagine that if these really are my memories— because sure, I may be a visionary or whatever, but these visions were too clear— I was a badass hero leading the fight against these monsters, and eventually, my side won. Otherwise, what even was the point?  

Day 4

I keep thinking about those fucking monsters. Journalling is doing something to me. It’s making me think about these things more and more. How else do I explain the pit in my stomach that’s refused to go away ever since I finished last night’s journal entry? 

Why can’t I shake the feeling that I was so so wrong about something? What if I wasn’t the hero? Maybe I was just a massive fail and my dwindling grades are like, a mirror to the events of my past life or something.

Day 7 

Whatever, I know I didn’t journal for two days and my last entry was just a pathetic scribble but I needed some time off. My therapist said this was supposed to help me get in touch with emotions not stress me the fuck out and make me never want to confront them again. Anyway, I took the weekend off, and actually spent my time trying to clear my head in more effective ways. Like smoking weed with my friend Maks. 

Mom, if you’re reading this (I know you are, I saw you combing through my journal just yesterday, you’re so obvious) then please for the love of God, don’t get all weird and make passive-aggressive comments when you know already that I smoke. And don’t pretend that you don’t because you totally did. Why else would I eat that much? No teenage boy needs five helpings of your curry no matter how good it is, it’s because of the munchies. Now read further at your own risk, that’s all I’m saying.

So yeah, back to Maks. He always steals weed from his sister Laura, and wades straight into her bag without any concern for her privacy. I don’t know, but I always heard you aren’t meant to be rummaging in a girl’s bag (or anyone’s for that matter), so I just, like, stand outside and make polite conversation with her while he’s flicking her goods. 

I guess that sounds bad, but you get it. Laura’s pretty and to be honest, I think she’s kind of sweet on me. She’s always kinda blushy when I talk to her and there’s no need to be, she’s twenty years old and I know she’s had boyfriends before. But she always gives me way more attention than what her idiot brother’s friend deserves. I’ve thought about asking her out on a date, but it seemed like a lot of effort when all I really wanted to know was if she kisses nice. 

I thought about it a little more today when we were smoking with some of the other guys, on the rooftop of Peter’s part-time job. I couldn’t really discuss it with them openly because I didn’t think honesty was the best policy when it concerned getting into Maks’s sister’s pants, but I wish I could, because I was still a fucking virgin. I wanted to get laid and I think if I asked, Laura might say yes. I just didn’t know how. 

And then I thought about it some more when I came back home and sank into my bed, stoned as fuck. I undid my jeans and opened up pornhub and scrolled through a bunch of thumbnails that all looked so fucking similar. And then, weirdly, I just shut my phone off and stared at the ceiling. 

I think all the dilly-dallying about Laura stems from the fact that I wasn’t really sure if I wanted to fuck Laura. Maybe I was a virgin loser, but I was pretty certain I didn’t have… feelings for her. Like, she was nice and everything, but I didn’t like her. I know what it’s like to like somebody, I think. It’s crazy intense and kind of one-dimensional and a little bit like black hair and pink lips and a dark red scarf.(????)

What the fuck. Did I just write. Where did that even come from.

I’m done with this journalling thing, man. I’m out.  

Day 9 

I’m not happy about this, you know. I just want to be a normal teenage kid who jerks off to porn and maybe sleeps with his friend’s sister so he isn’t a virgin when he goes to college. That’s it. I have simple desires. 

LEAVE ME ALONE SCARF GIRL. 

Day 10

I can’t stop thinking about her. I wish I could think about the human-eating monsters again. At least that was morbidly fascinating. This just gives me a clawing, uncertain sensation in the pit of my stomach and doesn’t let up until my thoughts are filled with some Japanese girl with the prettiest eyes I have ever seen, and a body like I hadn’t even thought of fantasizing about. It’s crazy, I feel obsessed with somebody I haven’t even met. And I know this for sure because I went through all the class photos and I know nobody who looks like that. 

Maybe I should talk to the doc again. I’m definitely delusional. 

Day 11

I saw the doc again. He isn’t convinced that I’m having delusions despite my twenty-minute spiel about the biology of ugly monsters I keep dreaming of. I explained in great detail that they were weird as hell: They had this weird human anatomy but none of the fun bits, and they kept eating humans but they couldn’t digest them for some reason. So they’d keep eating people and then get too full and puke ‘em all out into a disgusting ball of human glump and continue their binge. It was like a bizarre take on the Capitol citizens from the Hunger games. 

At the end of it, all he told me was that I should journal more and referred to me some creative writing workshops at the community college. And this was even before I even could tell him about the insanely beautiful girl with the red scarf that I haven’t stopped daydreaming about for three days now.

After coming home I got a little crazy and had a little meltdown about how nobody was taking me seriously which Dad thought was par for course for a seventeen-year-old, but Mom got a little snivelly. She came to my room later and gave me a hug and asked if I was acting out because I missed my birth parents. I didn’t know how to react to that so I just hugged her back and told her that I haven’t thought about them in years. Although now I wish I knew them a bit better, because maybe then I’d know for sure if I’m delusional or not because psychiatric disorders usually have genetic history. 

The truth is, I don’t remember much about my birth parents. Mom and Dad have taken care of me since I was three, and apart from the fact that I’m a little weirdo in a family of two very normal, high-functioning adults, I’ve never felt like I didn’t belong here.

Mom, I love you even though you never respect my privacy and are currently reading this journal. 

Day 12

I was googling “memories of past lives” and I somehow found myself on the Wikipedia for Hinduism. It’s a religion where people believe in having many lives. Everybody goes through birth, life and death and then rebirth again because this torture isn’t enough the first time apparently.  

Is that what this is? I’m a cat with too many lives, now? 

Day 13 

I thought I’d found religion but I spent one day listening to a guru with 9.6 million Instagram followers and I’m convinced this shit will only make me crazier. 

Anyway, midterms start in three days, and I know more about “samsara” than I do about Kirschoff’s laws, so see you later. 

Day 20

I’ve hidden this stupid diary away and planted a fake where my mom keeps looking. I need my privacy, for fuck’s sake.

I had History today and I swear to God, I almost threw up when it came to answering the final question on the Holocaust (Ten fucking marks!!!). I started writing it, felt nauseous, excused myself to the bathroom, stared at myself in the mirror, came back only to ask to be excused all over again. Miss Jenny definitely thought I was cheating. She kept hovering over me after I came back, when I was too busy trying not to throw up on her. 

It’s as if, every time I began to write about the Genocide of WWII, I could almost picture the innocents walking to their death. This is not to say that I don’t think what happened was absolutely terrible, but I cannot afford to get emotional during a fucking history exam. 

What’s worse is every time I kept picturing this one boy… this tiny boy with an interesting cap on his head, who looked in my direction with the most puzzling expression. A smile, that then turned into confusion, which then turned into fear. As if I was the one responsible for not only his misery, but that of his entire people. I know it sounds absurd but I really wanted him to know that I felt terrible about what happened. I mean, I had nothing to do with the Holocaust, obviously, but I’m sorry he had to go through it. That anybody had to go through something as terrifying as being persecuted and demonized for something they had no control over. 

I keep thinking about that boy. I wonder what his name was. I wish he could experience the world like I do, now. I wish he could be free too. 

Day 25

I had math today and it was alright, I suppose. I’m not very good at it, so I can’t judge if I’ve done okay or not. I was more interested in History and Civics, Languages that type of thing. Right on my way to a life of making no money. 

While walking back, I tried asking Maks what he thought about the History exam, and more specifically all our tutelage about the Holocaust. 

“What do you mean, how do I feel about it? It’s all bad, obviously, you know that.” 

“Right,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Of course it’s bad. But about why it’s bad. Do you ever, just, you know, feel really terrible about it? That so many people thought it wasn’t bad when it was happening?” 

“I mean,” he said. “Not really. Because it’s not really something you have to think about. It’s obviously bad. We’ve been learning how bad it is, ever since we could read our ABCs. Why would I waste my time thinking about something that I already know is terrible? I already know it!”

I couldn’t argue with that logic anymore. I don’t know why I even bothered with Maks, because I already knew not much went on inside his head, but I didn’t have anyone else I could talk to. At times like this, I really miss Armin, the wimpy blonde in my head that I used to hang out with because I knew he would engage in meaningful conversation about this. He’d probably say something smart about propaganda or the power of narrative or something. 

When I was a kid I was convinced that he was the smartest person on the planet (when he wasn’t even on the planet), because he knew all about Volcanoes and the Mariana Trench and the Sahara and all I knew was the Pokemon type chart. I knew it by heart, by the way. I still do. 

I came home and my over-perceptive parents exchanged glances, probably signalling to each other that their kid really was a loser and that there wasn’t much hope. Then Mom hovered over me to an uncomfortable degree, making me want to scream. The thing is, I don’t even know what to tell her. Wasn’t I too old to be discussing feelings with her anyway?? How am I supposed to tell her with a straight face that I was bawling in the toilet after my exam because Ramzi was just a poor kid in the wrong place at the wrong time???

… Ramzi. 

Who the fuck is Ramzi?

Day 30 

Exams are over. I went with the boys for burgers after school, and we all hotboxed inside Peter’s car before heading over to the restaurant. 

Maybe it’s the mood I’ve been in for the past couple of weeks, but I’m starting to realise that my friends are idiots. And I don’t mean that in the affectionate sense. Peter wants to go into Investment Banking but can’t pass math. He’ll probably keep working at the Mobile store. 

Maks wants to be a cop. In this neighbourhood. I think the only crime we have around here is bicycle theft and no cop ever helps you get your bike back. You just fork out twenty bucks to buy somebody else’s stolen bike from the shady dudes near the central station. The same ones that lurk in the shadows asking if you want a bike, the same way thugs ask if you want drugs. Bikes are like a community commodity around here. It all goes into the same pool and everybody dips into it. 

Hamza wants to help his dad out at his falafel shop and to be honest, that’s the most honourable thing to come out of the lot of us. If you ask me, it’s the best food in town.

But they’re all just so…!!! They make me want to tear my hair out. They seem so okay with everything. With themselves. With their families. With this silly little town. Nothing will change for them after they finish school, and they’re perfectly content with that.

When I was ranting about this to dad over dinner, he asked me, with his little indulgent smile, “Well then, what do you want to do Eren? How are you going to make your life more significant than your friends?”

I was stumped. The truth is I’ve never really pictured anything beyond this, beyond my teenage years. I’ve never once thought about what it would be like to be an actual adult. Huh. 

Day 31

I can’t sleep. I keep dreaming. My dreams are flashes of people’s faces, blood and large horrifying caricatures of human beings whose faces are stuck in a terrifying smile. It’s 3:23 and I woke up crying because my mind seemed fixated on this one woman who was struggling in the monster’s grasp before she was broken in two and tossed in its mouth. 

And when I woke up, I felt the wisps of a soft feminine voice ask me, “Why are you crying, Eren?” I wanted to reach out and hold on to her, beg her to tell me what was going on. But the more I rubbed the tears from my eyes, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was scarf girl. 

Why? I couldn’t tell you. Once I wake, my dreams slowly begin to lose clarity, fading into the noise of the real world and making me doubt my sanity more than ever. But this time when I woke, I felt the lingering sensation of long tresses brushing my face as somebody loomed over me. The strings of wool from a fluffy red scarf. The voice of somebody I was dying to hear. 

Day 38

Yo. it’s been a while. Lots of things have happened since I last wrote here. 

We had term break and I’ve been working on the Weber’s shed (they’re paying me for the help).  Honestly, the last set of dreams I had really fucked me up, so when Maks asked me to help with sawing wood, hammering things into place and just in general, not think, it sounded like a great plan. 

And if I had to stand in the sun without a shirt on when I knew Laura would be looking, I didn’t mind. Well, actually, I hadn’t really thought about it until I saw her staring out her window, right at me. 

I suppose I could write a whole story about how we had conversations with our eyes and licked lollipop ice candies on her porch together where I saw a little drop of candied water fall onto her chest and in between her cleavage, thereby making me want to lick it off of her skin, etc, but it really wasn’t that poetic. I was shirtless, and she was wearing her tiny warm-weather shorts, lips purple from the ice candies we had just gobbled down, and I guess she just asked me one time why I’d never made a move. I didn’t have an answer for her apart from making a move then and there, and some minutes later we ended up in her bedroom with me on my back and her tits dangling in my face. 

Tl:dr; I slept with Laura. I know it’s something I said I wanted some time ago, but as soon as we were done, I couldn’t separate our bodies fast enough. Brown hair matted across her forehead as she looked at me with expectation in her eyes. I couldn’t even look at her. The general public might crucify me as an asshole, but I just felt weird inside. She kept looking at me the entire time, large, soft brown eyes staring into mine as her hair spread all over me as she rode me. 

I suppose I did alright for a first time; I got off, she orgasmed first so I guess that’s a success. Laura was quite self-sufficient at the whole sex thing, honestly, it was as if she used me to get off and I let her. It all felt like a scam to me, instead of being excited about grabbing my first pair of tits all I could think was that this wasn’t right. There was an unfamiliarity about Laura that unsettled me, and I’m not sure what it was. But every time she scolded me affectionately, or brought my hands to her body to show me what she liked, I felt a little bit nauseous. 

And when she scrambled for the bedsheets after and asked if everything was alright, I had never felt like a bigger fuckup. 

“I thought you enjoyed it,” she said, her voice getting a little bit high and somewhat accusatory. “You came right? I was pretty sure you came.” 

“I did, yeah. It’s not that, Laura, the sex was… you were, I mean, it was all very nice. I just… maybe I don’t feel well. I’m sorry.” (NICE!! God, I’m such a fuckin idiot)

“You seemed pretty well when you stuck your tongue in my mouth and felt me up over my bra.” Every word she said just made me feel worse. 

“Do you have a girlfriend or something?” 

I pinched the bridge of my nose while I struggled with the most obvious, factual answer. But instead, with guilt burning my cheeks, all I said was, “... or something.” 

Day 39

After telling Laura that the sex was “nice,” I’ve been holed up in my room wondering, not for the first time, what the fuck was wrong with me. 

When I went down to have my muesli in the morning, Mom trapped me into a conversation. “You’ve been so dull lately, sweetheart,” she said, with her usual concern. It’s at times like this that I wish she would stop piling on the verbal concern and just bully the doctor into giving me some medication. Surely I could get some good ol’ pills for these hallucinations and I’d be okay. 

Instead, in keeping with my latest tradition of saying things I have not thought through, I blurted out, “Mom, did you always know you were going to be married to Dad?” 

She looked taken aback for a second. “Is that what’s got you down? Love problems? Oh, honey—” 

“Just answer the question, Mom. Don’t psychoanalyse.”  

“Well, not really, Eren. You see, I love your father very much, but I met him only when I was twenty-seven, and I’d had my fair share of experimentation and mistakes by then.” 

I nodded vigorously. See, this was normal. 

“Is there somebody on your mind?” 

I debated telling her for a split second, but my impulsiveness got the better of me. “I suppose there is, yeah.”

“Is it somebody I know?” Mom probed gently. She probably expected a different answer, because she’s been giving these sly smiles wherever Laura was concerned for a while now, so when I said, “Not really,” she blinked at me in surprise. 

“The thing is, even I don’t really know her. Not exactly in the way you would usually know somebody, I mean.” 

She blinked at me some more, looking as confused as I sounded. “There’s this girl,” I told her, my voice dropping down to a whispered mumble, “... this Japanese girl, I think, she keeps showing up in my dreams.” 

“You mean the same dreams as the one with the monsters…?” She asked, carefully keeping her voice neutral. 

If anything, my mother has always listened to me, I’ll give her that. “They’re called titans, apparently.” Crucial information from my last night’s terrors. “And yeah. The same ones. I think. I really do think they’re all set in the same world.” 

The more I listen to myself, the more I feel like I’m describing some kind of fantasy role-playing game. 

“So, what about this girl?”

Right, Eren. What about this girl? As my mother asked me that, I was struck with this ridiculous urge to prattle on about how she had a scar on her right cheek, a mole right beneath that, and even though she usually kept her hair short, long hair was simply gorgeous on her. She was humanity’s strongest, and so fucking smart, she was incredible. She could do anything and excel at it; she was one of those people that you could trust with your life. 

And how is it that despite not really knowing this girl, I knew so much about her? Fuck if I know. The only thing I did know, however: “I think she’s my wife. Sort of.”

Mom was speechless. “I know you think I’m crazy, Mom,” I told her. “But I just. I know it. Inside.” I sounded crazier with every word I said. Mom’s expression grew more pitying by the minute. 

She caressed my hair with a sad sort of affection in her eyes. “You’re really struggling with this, aren’t you, Eren?” 

My shoulders slumped; I felt defeated. I could see that she wasn’t taking me seriously, again. Well, what did I expect? If a seventeen-year-old told his mother that he was dreaming about a girl he didn’t even know, but somehow knew that she was his wife?? Man, even I couldn’t take myself seriously.

Day 41

Aside from being totally mortified, that conversation with Mom did bear fruit. I don’t know what she told the doc, but when I went for my appointment today, I left with an assortment of pills that were supposed to make me “feel better.” 

I wanted to tell him that I wasn’t feeling depressed, just crazy, but by this time I’m willing to try anything. So here goes nothing!! 

Day 46

I’ve been taking the pills for five days now, but nothing feels different. The doc says it takes some time for my body to react. I don’t really understand it because I’m usually the impulsive, reactionary type, but okay I guess. When it comes down to it, your brain just runs on a bunch of chemicals and these medicines are supposed to help me balance out the equations. (Doc's words, not mine.)

Today when we walked back from the grocery store, I saw an Asian family loading their trunk with groceries. There was an elderly couple and a woman (I think), who was doing most of the heavy lifting. Mom was grumbling about how chickpea pasta wasn’t a good enough way to boost her protein, but for some reason, that family caught my attention. I found myself craning my neck to get a look at the woman whose back was all I could see (a nice back, if I must say). 

Mom thumped me lightly on the shoulder and asked what the hell I was doing. 

It was kind of embarrassing because I know what it looked like. That I was busy checking out some woman’s ass with my mom right next to me. But it wasn’t that, I promise.

I mumbled an apology. But when we went further Mom suddenly looked at me all funny and was like, “Eren. You shouldn’t fetishize people, you know.” 

Naturally, I was gobsmacked?!??!??? 

Turns out, Mom put two-and-two together; first my “imaginary” (I didn’t like it when she said that, by the way. There was nothing imaginary about this woman. She was real. Our relationship was real.) wife, and then this Asian-looking family. Ridiculous! I did not think today was the day I’d get schooled by my mother about having an Asian fetish!!

Anyway, school starts tomorrow and I’m nervous because we’ll be getting our grades and term papers back. (Blegh)

Day 47

I feel like I’m about to explode. I have so many feelings, holy shit, I’m literally in the middle of class as I write this, I don’t even know where to begin. 

In an effort to start at the beginning, here goes: 

I THINK I’VE FOUND SCARF GIRL. 

AND SHE’S MY FUCKING MATH TEACHER ASLFADFKDSGL

I walked into school expecting the same old boring drivel as every other term, and mostly the morning had implied exactly that. Kris complimented my hair (I’d grown it longer despite my father’s insistence about cutting it, simply because I felt I wasn’t rebelling enough. I was a teenager after all, I’ve to pay my dues.) and it felt nice, because at least something was different.

We had different classes and got back papers in each class, and my eyes glassed over pages and pages of mostly ok answers, but largely silly mistakes, and the big red circle indicating my very average grades. My classmates queued up to the teacher’s desk to try and get a better grade but I didn’t really care much for it.

History, as I predicted was a shitshow thanks to my brain, but I seem to have made up for my earlier performance in French, thanks to a solid hour of concentration in the exam. 

Math was the last class of the day, and predictable Mr Hofferman, our grumbly old Math teacher was late. He was never late. He was one of those annoying teachers who was five minutes early, and would start his lesson as soon as the clock allowed him to, whether the rest of us had even sat down or not.

Ten minutes later— when the class had dissolved into little groups, girls sitting on the desks with their skirts bunched up high, boys chewing gum loudly even though we weren’t allowed to, complaining about how Mr Hofferman was for sure going to fuck all of us up with a ridiculously harsh marking scheme— a lady stumbled in, her hair looking wind-worn, in a pretty pink sweater and grey slacks. “Is this 4B,” she mumbled mostly to herself, craning her neck to see the door and confirm that it was, indeed, 4B. “Right, it is.” And then, in a most unusual turn of events, she set her books down and looked at us straight in the eye, and gave us the most gorgeous smile I have ever seen.

I don’t know about the others, but it took me several moments to recover. 

She gave us a small, shy wave, and a little bow, and introduced herself as Mika Akkerman. Her mother was Japanese and her father was Japanese-German, and after retiring, her father wanted to come back to the little town where he was from. She told us she was very excited to teach us from now on, and in an absolutely adorable accent asked us to “please treat me well.” 

There was such a violent shudder in my heart at that moment, I swear to God that I thought I was going to die. 

After that, she gave the sweetest little laugh, pushed her hair back behind her ear and said, “Although, giving you your test results is probably not the best way to start a good relationship.” 

As if I weren’t absolutely decimated by her beauty alone, what I saw at that moment threw me for a loop. 

There was a scar. On her cheek. And a little mole right underneath it.

As I lay stumped in my seat, my mind racing a million miles per hour, trying to even grasp the implications of everything that lay in front of me, Miss Mika took her seat and began to go through our term papers, one by one. She decided she would call us all to the front, to introduce ourselves, so she could more personally explain her assessment. 

“Eren,” she said, when it finally came to my turn, “Jaeger?” 

Idiot that I am, I stayed motionless until Maks ribbed me and said, “Stop spacing out, Jaeger, it’s your turn.” 

But I wasn’t spacing out. I don’t think I was ever more aware, or more present than in that fucking moment. The way she said my name, it finally felt right. Not Erren, Or Erin, Or Erain, But Ereh, kind of with the n a little bit silent, just a little breathy noise from her tiny nose, sounding kind of intimate like she’d spent a lifetime saying my name that way. 

She shook my hand, as she seemed to have done for every student, and fixed me with those gorgeous grey eyes. I was probably trembling like a fucking loser. (This is not how I wanted to reconnect with my wife!!!!)

“You have a nice name,” she said, thoughtfully. “It’s interesting that you have styled it in the American way.” 

That’s when I looked down at my paper. I’d signed it Eren “Yeager”. Which I never do, usually. My name is Eren Jäger; we usually understand the umlauts around here. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me,” I told her truthfully. It was the understatement of the year.

She then gave me a polite smile (it was so pretty, I swear, every time she smiles, I feel like a character straight out of a shoujo manga replete with heart eyes), and proceeded to walk me through my math paper. 

I have no fucking clue what she said because all I could think about was that her voice was so nice. And every time she said my name I felt my cheeks grow hot. 

In the end, she looked at me sweetly and said, “Well, don’t be discouraged, Ereh. Math is all about learning a few tricks and then you’ll master it, no doubt.” Which was excellent because now I was certain that I hadn’t left a particularly wonderful impression with my paper. Despite that, it appears my shamelessness reached new heights when she asked me if I had any questions, and all I felt compelled to ask was, “How old are you, exactly?” 

She blinked at me, and then stuttered a nervous laugh. “I always forget how direct everybody is around here. I’m 23.” And then, as if that was the real problem here, she said spiritedly, “But don’t underestimate me! What I lack in experience, I make up for with enthusiasm!” 

Oh boy. I didn’t doubt it. 

Now I’m back in my seat, barely acknowledging my dismal performance both academically and socially. My brain is buzzing restlessly. I can barely pay attention to anything that is being said to me (because, Mikasa wasn’t talking to me, it was mostly just Maks and Peter grumbling about their grades). 

All I can think is… What the fuck? 

I’ve never had a fully clear picture of the woman from my dreams but I know with startling clarity that this is her. I know it with my whole being. I knew it when she walked into class, when I saw her scar, when I heard her speak, when her eyes met mine. It’s like a flash went through my body, when we shook hands. 

This isn’t normal. But does it really matter? 

Because I think I’ve found my wife. 

Day 46 contd 

I have more updates. 

As class ended, Mikasa piled up her books and then embarrassedly mumbled that she was still new here, and that perhaps she would get lost and in a twist of what is surely fate, she called out, “Eren Jaeger, do you think you might be able to help me find my way to the Teacher’s lounge?” 

Of course, I would. I would do anything for her, she just didn’t know it yet. 

As we walked there, I learnt some things about her. She didn’t like silences, she found them awkward. Which was just as well, because after she broke the first one with some polite comment about what a lovely school we had, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. My only exposure to Japanese culture is from my interest in anime, and from what little I know, I’m pretty sure she thought I was completely rude and out-of-turn. 

In a span of a few minutes, I asked her how long she’s been in town (just a week), where she came from (Kyoto), and whether she’s already settled (if she needed any help, she could feel free to ask me, you know). I tried my best to get a glimpse of her fingers but couldn’t, but I was pretty sure when we shook hands that I didn’t feel any rings. So she wasn’t married. 

But that didn’t mean she didn’t have a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend. Or a partner. Or a fucking dog, that took up all her attention, I don’t know. 

As I stood near her little desk in the teacher’s lounge as she talked about how different the weather was here compared to Japan, I felt fucking crazy. It’s only been forty-five minutes since I’ve seen her, but I want to know everything about her. I want to know what I’ve missed out on for so many years, and I want to make up for the fact that she was brought into the world five years too early. 

I had this creepy desire to tell her that nothing mattered anymore, because she and I were meant to be together. Eventually, I got out of my head, and as I began to walk her to the school gates, I realised that this was the end of our time together today. She would go home, and probably not think of me for the rest of the evening, while I spent every waking moment (and probably my sleeping ones too) filled with thoughts of her. “Why did you come here, Mikasa?” 

“Ah, like I said, my father was born here and wanted to come back, so—“ 

“But why now? Why to this school? Why did you decide to come with them?”

She stuttered an answer at first, but then slowly her eyes narrowed at me. She watched me silently for a moment before she murmured, “Ereh, I never told you my name was Mikasa.” 

Shit.

“My name is Mika Akkerman. And I’m your teacher,” she said, her voice strained. There was an antsy, faraway look in her eye, as she spoke. “… You should talk to me with respect.” And then she turned around and left.

I ran back home, straight to my room and as I write this, I’m still shaking. 

I don’t know why I called her Mikasa. 

I don’t know why I spoke to her in such a familiar way. 

I don’t know why when I look at her I felt like I’ve been waiting for so long, and that she has finally returned to me.

All I know is that I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’ve memorised that face, and I’ve listened to that voice so often, I would know it even as I lay in my grave. I’ve felt that skin against mine before, the same skin that held my hand so firmly today. 

More than anything I knew that this was scarf girl. And the universe had finally brought us together. 

[magnetarbeam]

Trying to develop a complex interpretation of Ahsoka can be a real bitch sometimes, especially when I'm so ADHD I can rarely even watch a show, let alone analyze data from it.

I'm trying to let go of the perception of her as somehow being a perfect Jedi, that as far as I can tell arose post-TCW. She is an inherently selfless and compassionate individual, and she was brought up with the lessons of any Temple-raised Jedi, but her entire apprenticeship was spent as a soldier. Sure, Jedi aren't supposed to be that, but I really imagine that that's less important to her than the fact that Jedi are that now. It's not long before she's putting everything she has and more into fighting because if she doesn't, it'll mean people die that she could have saved. Especially for the clones, since almost nobody other than the Jedi will put in any amount of effort to save them.

(When I talk in this context about whether or not she's a good Jedi, I'm trying to do so in the context of how it's defined at the time, instead of the philosophy of the ass-end-of-Legends New Jedi Order that I often write her in in time travel scenarios. Her relation to that is a whole separate essay.)

Coming of age in this environment limits the amount of stuff she's able to learn about the role that Jedi are supposed to have. She's less of a negotiator because that skill is in a lot less demand than it was five years ago.

And she's good at fighting. For all that I hate the extent the show goes to display it (I'm not even gonna get into all the levels of bullshit the Marg Sabl thing is) the point is that she is naturally talented as a fighter and a tactician. I think this feeds into one of her major flaws: Her pride.

Losing her squadron over Ryloth is a failure that I used to dismiss as just a natural result of a teenager being shoved into a military command position with no training at all. And sure, it might not have happened if she had been trained, but the point lies in the fact that she thought she could complete the objective herself. There are a few layers to this, I think.

My specific headcanon is that Ahsoka had the top saber combat scores of initiates for three years before the war. She learned from the best pilots in the Order in Anakin and Plo. You also could throw in something about her having killed an akul and taken its teeth for her headdress, proving herself as an adult by Togruta customs, at an exceptionally young age. The effect is that at this point, she's let her skills go to her head, and she assumes she can do it instead of actually thinking it through.

(Had she been trained, I think she'd at least have remembered that she's in an interceptor with no missiles, and that even a heavy bomber like a Y-Wing doesn't try to 1v1 a frigate, let alone a Lucrehulk.)

When she first met Anakin, he initially rejected her, and I think that left her with a fear of disappointing him that she never totally got over. She feels like she needs to constantly prove that she's good enough for him, that she won't just slow him down. The canon from the Jedi Apprentice novels about aging out of the Temple and stuff is... very questionable at best in its logic, especially considering how the TCW movie frames it as Ahsoka probably being actually too young to be a padawan, but I like to use it in my headcanon because it implies that her assignment to Anakin was basically Ahsoka's last hope for being a Jedi, and that further punctuates this fear of rejection and also emphasizes their similarities in terms of both being reckless and aggressive and insolent and the kind of traits that probably make the Order see them both as disasters just waiting to happen.

Obviously Ryloth is a pretty big slap in the face for her, and she does get more reasoned and careful in her approach as time goes on (compare her first and second times on Felucia, for example) but that kind of... self-obsession, I guess, never totally goes away.

The way the GAR is structured doesn't help here, where she's often the only Jedi around to block blaster bolts and make decisions that actually minimize casualties.

Later on, it's less "I won't fail because I haven't failed before" and more "I'll do it because I have to do it to save lives, and I'm the only person who can and will do it." This is even more of a thing when she's fighting to depose Maul. The Mandos (Bo-Katan in disney canon or Spar in my more Legends headcanons) need a Force-user to fight a Force-user, and who knows when or if the broken Senate and Order are going to decide to do anything about it.

Where someone like Obi-Wan might have tried to reason with Maul first, Ahsoka sees that Maul's already done the stuff he has, concludes that he's beyond reasoning, and doesn't give away her position to try to talk him down.

I'm sure I'll come up with more to say here, but I've been typing for like an hour and a half and my attention has moved on.

[darthnell]

for the ask game!

🔪, 🍄, 🏜️! :D

Ty for the ask friend !! :D

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

Well my favorite ship pairings are my OCs so everything I say about them /is/ canon so… c: For Maritrix (Venatrix and Mariposa)… since True Vengeance was told from Ven’s pov, I’ll talk a lil bit about Mari’s: her initial interest in Ven was definitely strategy-based, given the nature of the Games. It was probably fairly obvious to the Games-savvy public that Ven would be volunteering in her final year, so she was on the table of potential sub-alliances in the Career pack for Mari for a while. But Mari probably expected her to be arrogant and entitled in the same way that Viper was. And while Ven definitely does have her moments of arrogance and entitlement, I think what surprised Mari the most was that she was genuine. A genuine fighter, genuinely grieving, and for the most part honest/blunt. I could definitely say much more about this but i just have been thinking about them a lot lately (when am i ever not lol) and it sucks that in this story they had to be in the arena together and not like. Living together gayly in a cabin in the woods with charcoal where percy visits them every now and then ;-; ah well. In an au where both gals survive, mari and iago wreak havoc on the internet using ven’s jabber account JFJDKDKD. ((Ok actual headcanon: mari and iago would be besties full stop, it would drive ven up the walls KDKDKDK))

Might as well share some stuff for Oberon and Dagmara too (Ven’s parents for those unawares) bc I have a lot of unposted/unwritten lore for them and I like them too c: so they started off as mentor and mentee since Oberon is 5 years older than Dag and he was assigned to mentor her for the games. Which she was pissed about because ofc she gets the rookie guy instead of the seasoned mentor who brought home more than a few victors. It’s kinda rough; Oberon does his best but he’s also currently having toxic girlfriend issues (tell me he doesn’t look like he had a toxic gf in the past jdjdjd). Anyways, after Dag wins, she and Oberon become closer as friends; Dag is also dealing w the loss of her best friend/cousin/district partner which is Rough for her ;-; she and Oberon are v much friends to lovers vibe, and I think the experience of being victors and having to deal w the shit the Capitol throws at them is probably something that like trauma bonds them 💀 they both go thru a lot but it helps that they have each other, like they both Get it. But yeah, before they started dating, Oberon was lowkey a hoe and Dag Wasn’t* but the relationships/situationships she tried to have w other people were just. Not it LOL. also Highkey. ADHD bf +autism gf.. beloved bihets <3

🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

Did a lot of research about turkey hunting for that one True Vengeance chapter. Also about reconstructed Viking ships. For my 163rd games fic I spent some time researching the aerodynamics of those flying/gliding suits. For my 171st games fic i um. I googled what happens when you eat lava. For my 173rd games fic i googled. What does crucifixion feel like. Finger guns :D I also spent some time doing research on types of prosthetics for TrV..! Turned out so well… 💀

🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

Well. Naturally I do love when ppl write me essays about their thoughts on my writing ;-; I don’t expect everyone to do that though LOL. Honestly just like when ppl are willing to share how my writing made them feel, it’s really neat ;-; There was also this one comment I got a while back that was a form of concrit but it was so interesting to me and I think about it a lot.. mainly bc it made me think of like an argument as to why the plot couldn’t be what the commenter was expecting (but maybe that’s bc I just love talking about my stuff LOL)

Writer’s truth or dare ask game !

[angelasscribbles]

Writeblr Intro: Angela's Scribbles

I’ve been on Tumblr for just over a year but managed to only now find #writeblr.

I’m a neurodivergent human who has brought several other humans into this world (Mom, I’m a mom). I have a small farm somewhere in the backwoods of Texas where I live with my spouse and various assorted children, both biological and adopted, and our sundry animals.

It’s not lions and tigers and bears oh my! But more like goats and chickens and a turtle rescue. But I digress.

I’m here because I love to write. This addiction to writing started in sixth grade when my Language Arts teacher had us make books. And I mean we created covers (from cardboard and covered those with wallpaper scraps), dedication pages, Table of contents, the whole nine yards. Then we filled them with our own original stories complete with illustrations (that was the worst part for me because I cannot draw to save my life).

I got bitten by the writing bug. After that, I wrote short stories, and poetry, and created a monthly newsletter for my friends and family.

I have a WordPress blog but I found Tumblr when I started writing fanfiction and wanted to keep it separate from the rest of my writing.

I write fanfiction for Choices games, The Royal Romance, and Ride or Die (and yes, some crossovers). I write a variety of fluff, angst, humor, and smut. Some of my work is PG, some is NSFW. Everything is tagged appropriately.

I have just recently started posting some of my original (aka not derivative) work on here. My WordPress blog features mostly flash fiction, poetry, and essays, and includes some posts from guest writers. I have short stories that are yet to be published and several novels in progress. I write horror, fantasy adventure, paranormal romance, and gothic suspense.

My pronouns and she/her. Several of my children, as well as myself, fall somewhere on the LGBTQ+ spectrum as well as the Autism/ADHD Spectrum (both, fun fact, you can have both).

If there’s anything else you’d like to know, my asks are always open.

[fitgothgirl]

⬆️ Lovely sunset walk the other day, and the venue of a wedding I went to this past weekend

⬆️ My outfit for said wedding, and more pretty walk views. Not my favorite pic of me but didn’t get a better full body one and I loved my shoes 🥰🕸️🖤 (purchased them a while ago, hadn’t had a chance to wear them yet). The dress and belt were also new!

Hiiieeee I’m still alive. Been enjoying some time away from social media again. Most times I get the compulsion to click on tumblr or Reddit or something, I just click Solitaire or Wordscapes instead. And times when I have clicked on social media have been fairly short sessions before I remember why I stay away.

Of course I do always miss tumblr peeps... 🖤 That’s always the biggest downside of these breaks.

Went to the gym the day before yesterday for yet another “kicking out the cobwebs” session. Last workout was 4/2, and before that my last one was 3/22, etc... Bit of a pattern haha. But I’m already planning to get back today! I don’t want to keep doing this once-every-1-to-3-weeks thing. It’s better than nothing of course but I want to be doing at least twice a week... Ideally 3 times a week, but I’ll take fewer days first while just getting some friggin consistency down.

Therapy is going well, I wish I could see her more than every other week but it’s okay as it is for now. I’m still trying to get my official ADHD diagnosis and am in the process of switching psychiatrists at the service I use. But in the meantime my therapist sent me a couple links to sites for ADHD assessment that she’s pretty sure the psychiatrist will refer me to anyway (therapist and psychiatrist are from the same telehealth service). I tried one and it let me know it’d be a 60-90 minute process that I’d do on my own and then someone would reach out to me to schedule an appointment for me to talk to a doctor. The very first thing of this assessment was a page that just said “In your own words, please tell us more about why you are here, and your long term goals” and it had a blank area for me to type with no character limit... I was like ohhhohohooo wow... Where to begin... They’re going to get an essay from me. But it also just triggered some major overwhelm-shutdown too. The irony of it is great. I’ll need to get in the zone to tackle this, but it did warn me it’d be up to 90 minutes; we’ll see if I even stay within that lol.

Otherwise with therapy, I’ve been good about doing my “homework.” I keep a little post-it on my desk’s hutch near my monitor so I see a bullet point list of the key things for me to remember until the next appointment. Those are my priorities and anything else is just bonus. Some things don’t get done but that’s to be expected - she says if I always did 100% in everything then she’d ask if I was really being honest lmao. But no self-deprecation or guilt allowed!

Weather has been beautiful and I’ve been spending time outside, either in the backyard or going for walks. One thing my therapist brought up with me when I was talking about wanting to get 10,000 steps a day since it’s so good for so many things, was that it’s a little unrealistic to expect myself to suddenly do something every single day when I’m hardly ever doing it to begin with. My Fitbit makes me want to hit daily goals but what other habit changes would I expect to suddenly do daily? Most of the time we try to do new things once or twice a week or whatever. Kind of was like an aha moment for me and helped lessen the guilt of how much I struggle to get that done. So now my daily step goal is 5,000, which is still a little more than I’d get just sitting around all day, so that’s a good goal. And for 10,000 steps, for now I’m aiming to hit that once a week. I’ve dedicated Tuesdays for that. And if I get it more days than that, then great! And I’ve actually gotten 10,000 steps on 5 out of the last 10 days... 😳 Plus another day of 9,000. Funny how that works lol.

We had a slender salamander in our backyard 😭 Look at him legs do steppies!!!! 🥺🥺 Also peep my bf helping take off the thing stuck to him lol. We’re in a moderately dense suburb-ish area so we don’t get much besides some birds and the usual stuff. Wonder where he came from and where he went…

I could probably keep going, but I’ll end this essay here for now lol.

[itsaspectrumcomic]

man ok idk if youll be able to advise on this or something but like. do you know anything regarding dealing with like internalised ableism?

i live in a rural part of ireland, right? and idk what it is about rural ireland but some of the people are heinous. my school is in a small miserable-ass town and like. God, man. not everyone sucks, of course but like. jesus lol additionally i have a ~mildly ableist~ mother (a "we're all a little bit autistic" and "erm. youre not disabled because youre not in a wheelchair or blind/deaf" etc etc type stuff. + "npd = bad person" which isnt particularly good for me specifically because i have npd (that i both Cant get an official diagnosis for, for various reasons, and im not really Looking for one either because i know what i am and its not like you get support for it because ~ooh scary narcissist~.)

and like. idk if this is Obvious but that can kinda cause a weird-ass relationship with You (being Me in this case, yk how it is with the second person perspective when. ranting) and The Concept Of Being Disabled. like, objectively. im disabled. im autistic, ive definitely got adhd (that im hopefully going to get examined for at some point cause college stuff requires it for the disability forums and stuff. gotta love that. fuckin 80% comorbidity right?), ive got a laughable number of repetative strain injuries, i have a sensory processing disorder, an endocrine disease that effects my Entire cardiovascular system, a spine that felt a lil quirky and bent in too much. so on a so forth

but also like. it feels wrong to call myself disabled. yk, like im doing a disservice to all the other ~actually~ disabled people (being Anyone but me lol) (none of this is At All helped by the fact that my mother refuses to listen to me regarding Jack Shit about my health in Any way. "oh you nearly passed out on top of a hill because of your cardiovascular condition? erm youre just not exercising enough actually" "you dont have depression [said while i was filling out an assigned mood diary after being forcefully brought to camhs for Reasons" like. shut the fuck up and Listen to me please. at least Entertain the idea that i could be right about something for fucking once lmao. cause ive been right about EVERYTHING regarding my mental health so fucking far so. fuck off /nay ofc) (also man. like, even if you ignored the physical issues ive got im still disabled on account of being autistic. like, motor function is fine, despite being a lil clumsy and/or unsteady sometimes but like. my emotional needs are Fucked. think of the response youd get if you asked a. fuckin. 8 year old or something to do algebra. but with a very emotionally stunted and traumatised 17 year old lol. lmao, even /lh)

so like. if youve got. any advice or whatever on any of this thatd be Super cool + no pressure obvs. sorry this is a whole. like. fucking essay's worth of Random Guy Complaining To You On The Internet lol

-🐢 <- just so i can find this again if you respond. i Like Turtles. i am Normal about the tmnt and also turtles The Creatures. i wont talk at length about turtle mutant anatomy (i am deceiving you)

Internalised ableism is a really hard thing to deal with, especially when you're surrounded by people who constantly re-enforce it. I've also spent a lot of time worrying that I'm not disabled 'enough' to deserve certain accommodations, that I'm making an unnecessary fuss. But the truth is, autism IS a disability and if there are accommodations that can help support you, you deserve access to them. You're not taking away from others with disabilities by advocating for yourself.

It's taken me a long time to understand this and I still worry sometimes. What has helped is talking about my experiences with people I know understand, like my therapist or best friend, and learning about the experiences of other autistic people through books, social media, YouTube and even real life.

I'm sorry your mother and others aren't being understanding - remember that's a them problem, not you, and try to spend your time with people who do understand.

🐢🐢🐢 <- the turtles wish you luck

[worthless-weight-in-gold]

GET TO KNOW ME: TOP 10 MOVIES . ( list your top 10 favorite movies and tag friends to do the same)

ok im gonna split it into my top movies of all time and then finish off the list with just my recent favs bc i dont think i have 10 all time favs

Everything Everywhere All At Once - this movie came into my gay immigrant with adhd house and beat me to death then doxxed me. i literally cried with a stranger after seeing it bc we both walked out sobbing Prince of Egypt - i mean im a jew im legally obligated-- 10 Cloverfield Lane - this COMBINED with filmjoys video essay on it??? one of the best days of my life was watching the movie then the essay right afterwards with a group of friends we all lost our minds Into & Across the Spiderverse - i love LOVE stylistic movies and i love that these movies brought stylized animation back into the mainstream. and i love the stories the movies tell 악마를 보았다 (I Saw the Devil) - 0% for the faint hearted, one of the most brutal "revenge ruins everyone" movies ive seen. also "ill take two weeks" "take... more? time off???" "nah, ill see you in two weeks." is the john wick intro of the horror world, change my mind ---- and now, 5 recent films ive loved ---- Amores Perros - my friend and i watched all of la trilogía de la muerte in 1 day & i think this is my fav one, tho i found it frustrating every now and then. but i love a "separate stories all connected with 1 event" plot also we found out later IT HAS ONE OF THE BEST TITLE TRANSLATIONS TO ENGLISH OF ALL TIME Glass Onion: Knives Out - such a fun watch, i think its one of the few newer hollywood "fuck rich people" movies(/franchises i guess since its the second installment) that the message doesnt feel like it falls really flat Tragedy Girls - very fun, really had me hardcore rooting for some murders like cmon they're girlbosses let them LIVVVVVEEEEE El Ángel Exterminador - like. cmon. classic for a reason. also more "eat the rich" i really like the pacing also it feels so purposeful ahhhh 부산행 (Train to Busan) - best zombie horror movie, hands down. this will probably get added to my fav of all time list in the future tbh

tagged by: @wynterlanding and @mutatedangels :3

tagging: @samhlaiocht @fasciinating @detectivewoof @manneatcr & anyone who hasnt done it yet!