#I was low-key a fucked up kid until I started therapy

[little-star-bun]

i did not see u answered my long ass this SO OK YES APPARENTLY MY ASS IS SO SCRUMDILLYICIOUS EVERYONE USED TO SMACK IT I GIT HANDPRINTS AND EVERYTHING i fid it to this one girl bc we were dating but she smacked my thigh this time and i did it back but super hard bc why not oopsies and left the biggest reddest hand print i felt so bad BC I DID NOT MEAN TO DO THAT

-🩷

Uhmmm ASS REVEAL??? jkjk unless

Also girly why tf would you do it HARDER??? What did you think would happen jfc 😭😭

#One time i slapped my friend in the face with a slap bracelet cause I was curious if it would hurt #Let's just say she stopped being my friend #I was low-key a fucked up kid until I started therapy #bun's anons #bun's 🩷 anon

[more-thoughts-than-money]

Born “gifted”; grown chronically depressed

// long, personal post. basically a tutorial on express therapy (and by express I mean 10 years of rationalising, learning psychology on myself and fictional characters + 48 hours of not sleeping)

When I was grieving I spent 48 hours sleepless

it’s not that I couldn’t sleep. I’ve been on insomnia medication for 3 years now. I just had to “have a reason” and time to actually acknowledge my emotion and thoughts which caused my body to struggle with setting a “proper” circadian rhythm

Living with a 5 person family in basically a studio flat for 13 years of my life low-key harmed my ability to think and “feel” without privy eyes

this accidentally sent my brain into survival mode where I could only “think rationally” at night

So when we moved out and I got to have a room of my own

that’s when *serious* sleep problems started

my brain would just REFUSE to shut the fuck up

first off I was used to tv noise while falling asleep

i fixed it up with some rain sounds or watching ATLA when I was feeling funky

it distracted me enough

still I wouldn’t fucking sleep.

because my brain didn’t feel like it

probably hyperactivity which I could never “treat” with sport as an asthmatic kid

also an outcast but it is what it is

unable to name the cause of my insomnia I would just head to sleep at 10pm. Two reasons for that:

a) you know what they say! Don’t trust your thoughts after 10PM

b) 8h of sleep is THE healthy amount. And it seems like my brain likes waking up early for whatever reason!

yeah also I went through a fair share of medication before they got it right

anyways whoops I’m depressed now. Very depressed and even more anxious. Day by day my brain is giving me more compulsive behaviours and thoughts! Yaaay!

so I went through a 3 years worth of antidepressants

also a lot of unintended research (thanks, tiktok.)

basically I “subconsciously” KNEW what my problem is but “consciously” my brain refused I acknowledge it because haha living in the state of constant survival mode is way more fun! right?

right?

basically it was like being a doctor and being pretty certain about the diagnosis but having to go to some other doctor to objectively either confirm or discard my diagnosis

yeah anyways I changed medication, SNRI, venlafaxine

known to help some adhd folk with severe vegetative depression for “no reason”

Yeah basically my new psychiatrist kept on upping the dose until I got “a kick in the ass” so we know it works

and then my aunt died.

wELL my workaholic and emotionally constipated child brain would NOT acknowledge it

hell you’d catch me dead before I’d admit that I felt shitty but didn’t know how to deal with that because at the same time I “saw it coming”

No one ever told me she’s sick

I just saw her hair loss (or rather a sudden haircut change and awkward silence that followed) and had some foggy memory of someone saying her sister died of cancer

Mind you I don’t fucking remember my childhood that well

hell I don’t remember it at all but it is what it is

I just “know” some things and some are more of a “hunch”

I have this information buried in my brain but I can’t recall how it got there, ykwim?

yeah basically I was suspecting she’s dying of cancer but I was trying to stay optimistic and told myself I’m “overthinking it”

and I thought the mourning was “good enough of a reason” to stay up for 48 hours, write down my “thoughts” and wail all day long (yes, everyone gave me shit for crying growing up, how did you know?)

anyways yeah I did this and suddenly I “solved” the root of ALL my anxieties and minor paranoias.

as if it was a fucking riddle. Or a fucking house MD episode.

I hope you can understand WHY I’m so livid.

I SPENT OVER 3 YEARS ON ANTIDEPRESSANTS AND MADE ONE THERAPIST CRY JUST BECAUSE MY BRAIN WENT SO FAR INTO THE SURVIVAL MODE EVERY TIME I INTERACTED WITH A HUMAN BEING. IM JUST FUCKING AUTISTIC AND TRAUMATISED NOT “ANXIOUS” AND “PARANOID”

OH FOR FUCKS SAKE

Also I’m fucking dyslexic. But hyperlexic at the same time. I mean I’m hyperlexic in my native language, and I “remember” the spellings so I went undiagnosed

but I love technology. I want to be a CS student and then I’ll see where I can go from here. I’d love to work on an online learning platform for “gifted” children

y’know so they don’t lose their childhood but at the same time can associate learning with something nice and actually enjoyable

I think a lot of “gifted kid burnout” comes from the | dopamine <—> habit making | mechanism

so if children can learn they don’t HAVE TO be good at every subject and learn their “strengths and weaknesses” early on

Hardships later on won’t be as depressing

cause hey maybe I’m not the best at english but I know a lot about maths and I like maths and maybe when I grow older I can be a mathematician!!

you see what I mean?

at least this is what I’m trying to do for myself

generational trauma and neurodivergency running in the family made me develop some shitty coping mechanisms (example - perfectionism in order to cope with my actual time blindness and the “need” for structure while hating organisation and refusing “unreasonable” authority)

I wasn’t raised catholic, not really

nor was I raised queer lol

but my brain reacted to religion the same way people who went through religious trauma did

basically I put myself through religious trauma on accident!

fun, aye?

what I mean is, I grew up religious because that’s what “felt right”

tradition and all that

and then I realised the catholics hate me for no fucking reason

and then I thought “well fuck you too!” And called myself an atheist

later it went into agnostic

and a couple of weeks back I grew OBSESSED with religion

christian one I mean

Fuck I even started reading the nsrv bible in english (!)

and then I tried to interpret it “by myself” using some historical context and googling some stuff

WHAAAAAAAT! Turns out the bible is a product of its own time and is not to be taken literally!

That’s crazy innit?

Yeah and then I realised all of my recent hyperfixations (last two years) were a silent ways of rationalising ALL my “unreasonable” anxiety and trauma caused by; you guessed it

NOT UNDERSTANDING SYMBOLISM AND SOCIAL CUES AS IT IS

IN MY NATIVE FUCKING LANGUAGE

I can learn *any* language

I just need some books, movies, music in said language

But don’t ask me about any grammar. I don’t care about grammar. And you can’t make me. Idfk what present simple is but I can shove it so far up your ass your own mother won’t recognise you. so yeah

I’m great at learning languages cause they’re a “brainless” work for me

I mean

I learn languages for fun - it’s a tool to communicate with broader audience AND find more knowledge on the internet (I Google EVERYTHING in english)

and when someone tries to make it into an actual job of mine. This is when it goes downhill.

also english being coded as “language of knowledge” is my “main” language

my native language is way more complicated and I never really had to acknowledge my emotion in polish

I mean maybe I did but I just never wanted to cause I never learned that! English in comparison is simple. It allows me to communicate simple ideas without the need to “sound smart”

this and isolation from my peers (kids are bastards) gave me an actual “language barrier”

which isn’t the case really

it was just my overthinking

I started enjoying polish music way more recently cause I can never get the lyrics

so I listen only to what sounds “cool”

in english on the other hand the most of my music taste was built around midwestern emo and folk punk

cause I listened only to songs that felt “somewhat relatable”

yeah all of that understanding makes me want to write an essay but i kind of don’t care and I’m too lazy to do that!

so yeah this is how I “cured” my compulsions, anxiety, depression, irritability and perfectionism. By having fucking adhd and being a massive nerd. because I would hyperfixate on linux, customisation, open source applications, cybersecurity, programming

turns out I’m great at maths since I KNOW HOW to solve the problems

My brain is just too quick to do it step by step so I tend to skip and get lost in my own fuckin notebook 💀

schooling just made me believe I suck at maths and i should actually kms for trying to improve at it /hj /lh

And I suck at my own language. I know a lot of “complicated” words and can deduce what certain words mean (logically) but I have issues adapting my language to my listeners. I either cuss every other word (too comfortable; thanks mom LMFAO)

Or I speak like an university professor. To my peers. And they don’t know what the fuck is going on. And I end up isolating myself because of crippling fear of being misinterpreted. And people think I don’t have a sense of humour whatsoever because I don’t “get” jokes. But I joke a lot and am very sarcastic cause that’s just how I am. God damn it

When were y’all going to tell me not everyone thinks I want to use them and be a bastard overall when I need to ask someone for help. when. were. you.

icb I had to go to paid therapy, feed myself some subliminal messaging, deprive myself of sleep for 48 hours, force myself to talk to my dad about things I don’t understand or scare me, go manic for a week on venlafaxine, my aunt had to die and I had to have a reason not to go to school for 2 days for me to actually acknowledge my emotion instead of rationalising it.

also everyone in school + my therapist thinks I’m still manic and in need of hospitalisation. How do I even begin to explain it’s not that I have superiority complex, and I just realised I’m hella smart, just in a pretty unexpected way���.. because thorough my entire life I never acknowledged it for the sake of being “humble”. bitch it’s not humble it’s the lack of self worth and being someone else’s doormat.

y’all think that if I say “house md and one tumblr post cured me” they’ll let me off the radar?

no honestly I have too much to catch up on (maths, c++, reading in POLISH, and learning German for fun) to actually care about “depressing” things of this world

I mean sure it does sound unhealthy in hindsight

but thing is

this is the first time in my life where I don’t feel hopeless both about present AND the future

and I guess that’s enough for now

I have “a goal” and that’s enough

Later I might catch a job as an actual university professor. Maths or computer science. Biology or physics maybe?

it gives me an excuse to be “eccentric” lol

cause the students are here to learn not to make fun of who I am and focus on that

sure it’s a funny anecdote to mention like “dude my physics teacher is fucking nuts but at least his lectures are interesting”

and that’s all I care about

I get to express myself instead of internalising anything

and the students get to learn

yay and yay

mutual benefit!

yeah anyway fuck I have so much shit to catch up on and I’m so lazy I actually have to reorganise my room and desk so I don’t try to do my homework in bed……. (Yes I was THAT depressed and lazy)

when I do my chores in bed I keep on losing my pens and I’m one minor inconvenience away from doing something I might not particularly want to do…….

yah

thats it I guess

If this post made anyone realise something (“connect some dots”)

congrats and I’m sorry you had to find out this way LMFAO

if not

scroll ahead, not the target audience probably

#neurodiversity #gifted kid burnout #mental health #txt #long post #personal #also you’re not “evil” but possibly have some developmental trauma. Probably. Who am I to judge. Have fun with the realisation! #hate crimes md #don’t take this too seriously #Im the last person I would take actual advice from #🦐🦐

[mainfaggot]

ARE YOU WATCHING THE BEAR?? u have to tell me how you like it when you finish season 2..........

HI ZAHRA!!!! yeah so I watched s1 during summer 2022 and then when s2 came out I just kept putting it off until last week.... I finished the second season last night and I feel insane about it.

I knew carmen would fuck it all up with claire, but I was kinda glad because claire shouldnt have to deal with all his baggage when he can't even get himself to communicate effectively. I do think that everyone deserves to be loved and to love despite mental or physical obstacles; it's just that hes so stubborn. he needs therapy first (just to start feeling less neurotic), girlfriend second.

anyway all that aside, ayo's performance as syd was crazy as usual. she's such a good actress... I love her facial expressions sm lol I also think the whole coach k self help book was so cute and also really real bc yeah. desperate times call for desperate measures (advice from sports people in stupid books that are probably kinda overrated). i think this season was a fascinating insight into her way of dealing with grief or just loss in general... her mom died when she was 4, so it seems she's low-key unfazed by morbid subjects (like when carmy finds Michael's hat in his locker). I think Syd most likely feels a lack of something within from losing her mother as a kid... which is why she puts so much pressure on herself... but that's just me!

oh yeah and how could I forget. s2e6 Fishes was like a horror film . the berzattos have such a sad relationship with their mother (sad isn't even the word it's more like.... deeply upsetting, terrifying, pity inducing, etc.) and that scene where she grabs Natalie's face while Natalie kneels on the floor .... biblical almost.. that was insane AND apparently it was improvised Like hellllooooio.... woah ..yeah ok that's all

#ok yeah i rambled... #ALSO TEEHEE THE CAT GIF IS SO CUTE 😸😸😸 #asks #mewchiez

[worldwithoutmiracles]

ADHD Coping Strategies

these are the things that have actually genuinely worked for me. I’m not guaranteeing they will work for you (I hope they do!) but I am guaranteeing I will not put “buy a planner” on this list.

okay, I know I said no planner talk, but I am religious about my phone calendar app. I put everything in there the second it occurs to me - appointments, sure, but also vague things like “call Grandma” or “post office?”. seeing it on a calendar instead of a list works better for my brain. whenever something I need to take care of within x amount of time occurs to me, it gets written down. I have stopped mid-sentence to pull out my phone and schedule “shower” for the next day (can you believe it took 28 years to get diagnosed lol). the key is not what tool you use, it’s finding one that is convenient, and then not being ashamed to use it (and never telling yourself “oh, I’ll remember without writing it down”)

let one task bleed into another, and try to separate your body from your brain. this one is huge for me, and might be tough to describe. basically, when I am avoiding a task and stuck in a phone scroll loop, I cannot get my brain to switch from Task A to Task B - it just won’t happen. so I try to bypass the switch altogether. I try not to consciously think of “starting” anything, and I bring Task A with me as I move a little. so, I’m sitting around rewatching a YouTube video, avoiding a shower (you know the mood). without thinking about the shower, I will continue to watch YouTube, but just stand up. basically, I don’t tell myself “okay, I’m stopping now” and “okay, time to start!” I just sort of...blend the two together. ease the transition. I’m still scrolling through twitter, but I move from the couch to the floor to prepare to work out. the TV show is on and I’m still watching as I move toward the kitchen. without me noticing, Task B has started, and with the worst behind me, I can finish doing it. (I can also sometimes just make my body do things physically without engaging my mind, but this might be an acquired skill and doesn’t work every day. mentally, I’m still in bed, but physically I’m now standing in the bathroom, huh weird, better start getting ready for the day.)

care about how you feel as much as you care about what you do. due to low self-esteem, I seem to think it’s okay for me to spend literal DAYS in agony because I can’t do a 15 minute task. when you think about it, it’s such a cruel and narrow way to live. why am I okay with feeling afraid and guilty all day, but I’m not okay with just giving myself permission to put this task off until tomorrow (or even just sitting down and doing it now, so I can feel happy and proud for the rest of the day)? why do I see my life as just an endless series of to-do lists instead of an experience to be lived with joy and by my own values?

separate moral judgements from your actions. this is a HUGE thing that came up for me in therapy. I am always judging myself as a good or bad person based on, like, productivity and my to-do list? which is so stupid. and I know, consciously, it is stupid. but I also, unconsciously, think about myself in these terms ALL THE TIME. my therapist started pointing out every time I used “should” or “supposed to” when I spoke, and it was almost every sentence. I’m always acting like I’m performing for some moral authority, like I’m being graded (burnt out gifted kids who were raised Catholic say ‘heyyy’). you are a good person. you need to find a way to make yourself believe that without an outside authority.

subdivide the day into smaller chunks. if I meant to get out of bed and run errands at 8 AM, and it’s now 1 PM and I’m stuck in a shame spiral and haven’t left my bed, it’s easy for me to just write the day off as fucked and give up. it’s really, really powerful if you can stop measuring time in units as large as a day. generally, I like to think of the day as split up into 4 segments. now, if I waste the morning and afternoon, that’s okay! I can turn the day around now and decide to make the 3rd or 4th part of the day better. shower at 3 PM and put on clean clothes like you just woke up. run errands at 7 PM if the store is still open. write the email at 2 AM (and schedule it to be sent at a normal time - shhh night email is my little secret). just begin again. you can always begin again, any time.

please, for the love of god, find ways to be nice to yourself, to consider the best possible scenario, to forgive yourself, to believe, truly, that you don’t deserve to be sad and scared and stressed all of the time. your life should not be something you feel you are avoiding or missing out on. please imagine a better life for yourself, and take the time to remind yourself that you deserve goodness and kindness and grace, especially from yourself. be gentle.

medication and therapy. I know this isn’t feasible for a lot of people - I couldn’t afford it for a decade. but if you have the means and have just been putting it off because “it’s not that bad”, please go. I thought I was doing “fine” because I had been worse. meanwhile, I had stopped even imagining my life could be better. turns out my “fine” was leagues below where I deserved to be and how I could feel about myself.

becoming aware of the way I think about myself has been such a powerful tool for managing my symptoms over the last few years. it often feels like my lack of productivity makes me feel bad, but the reality is my symptoms worsen when I already have something I feel fearful, anxious, or ashamed of, so thinking about the way I think has helped me tremendously.

sorry I can only write long posts. 

#adhd #actually adhd #adult adhd #neurodiverse #neurodiversity #text #note to myself for later

[s-s-s-sideblog]

so i dated this girl recently and it was the first relationship i’d been in since being diagnosed as autistic, and when i first mentioned it her (before we were dating) she was like “oh yah yknow i’ve been thinking i might be on the spectrum too” but was very low-key about it, didn’t bring it up in front of other people. and enough people have had that response to me saying i’m autistic that i didn’t think anything of it, i was just like oh, cool, that means they probably won’t be weird about being autistic and i can be a resource for them if they need it.

and then, as we started dating, she would bring it up more and more. like, she’d say x behavior was because she’s autistic, shit like that, pretty frequently, and it didn’t start until we started dating. and like, yes, self-diagnosis is valid, especially if you’re a woman and you don’t have the resources to get a diagnosis, but also, like...all of this was while she hadn’t even tried to get a diagnosis, wasn’t in therapy, was perfectly content to just say she was autistic when a month ago it was just a possibility.

and i don’t want to shit on anyone else’s experiences, but like i spent 18 years of my life believing that something was deeply wrong with me because i couldn’t make friends, feeling not just different from other kids but wrong. so then for her to go “oh ya i know what that’s like, i’m autistic bc i’m awkward and i have hyperfixations” the second i brought it up was just so frustrating, because like...you don’t know what it’s like to be me. and she’d act like she did, she’d like...co-opt my experiences. for example: i told her i was pissed about a class i had to take because i’d covered all the material in a previous high school class, and she (who had taken the class i was taking) was like “oh yeah, i probably could have skipped that class once i had the basics down.” like, no, that’s not what’s happening. it’s not the same.

and maybe that’s just further proof that she is autistic, because she didn’t get that. and maybe that’s on me for not explaining it. but it bothers me so fucking much that i spent years suffering and thinking i was just a broken person, refusing to identify with being autistic until i had a confirmed diagnosis, and she gets to just throw that word around like it didn’t shape every second of my existence as a child.

also, she told me she loved me after two weeks of dating, which like, what the fuck, right? we’d only really known each other for less than a month by the time we even started dating. and when i didn’t say it back she apologized, like, two weeks later and blamed it on being drunk (she’d been drinking, but she was tipsy at most).

whatever. i’m tired. i keep having to send her fucking emails. fuck.

#🖤

[pigeonflavouredcake]

I'm an adult now take my advice

(or don't i'm not your dad)

Idk how old my followers are overall but i want to make this post in case any of you are actually teens... I am Officially 20 now. I am no longer a teenager so here are some things I learned as a poor teenager that helped me as a poor adult. Some are witchy, some are just about life, most are food related. Buckle up this will get pretty long.

Write as much down as you can bc puberty can really fuck with your memory.

Staying up late because you simply can't sleep is not something to be worried about unless you want to change that. It's pretty much all your natural body clock.

Get a big folder. Like a massive accordion folder and put all your personal documents in, birth/adoption certificates, bank statements, prescription receipts, diplomas, etc. So if you're ever in a dangerous situation at home you can make your escape a lot easier.

Now is a good time to learn new things that aren't school related. Practice cooking your favourite meals, learn how to properly clean a bathroom, if cleaning is overwhelming there are methods online that can help with that. Like playing a spot the difference game.

NO, tarot is not a closed practice, tarot is a tool for everyone and NO, tarot decks do not have to be gifted to you, you can buy one for yourself. I don't even know where that came from but it's complete bs.

Save the little gift baggies you get when you buy jewellery and use them as spell bags.

Stay away from any woman who calls her vag a yoni. it's weird.

You may want to be seen as smart and mature because it's better than being treated like a kid but you are still a kid. Your safety matters more than how mature and responsible you are. An older person should NOT be talking to you in a romantic/flirtatious setting and if they say it's because you're mature for your age or they can't wait until you're legal fucking bully the living shit out of them then block them and warn your friends. that attitude is creepy as hell bc they want someone they have power over. Same with any friends that brag about their partner being 15/16/17 when they're 18. BULLY THEM THEY'RE GROSS AND THEY DESERVE IT.

If you're in a country with the NHS USE IT NOW WHILE IT'S FREE. The first 6-8 weeks of therapy is free from the NHS. Eye tests and dentist check ups and medication are free untill you're 19 GET THEM NOW.

You can make your own oat milk by blending up oats and water. You don't need to cook with oil, there's enough of it in processed food and fresh veg have enough water in them to cook straight in a pan. You don't need the seasoning packet in ramen you can make your own. Tamari sauce has less sodium than soy sauce. Food always tastes better when it's in season. Try to find space for two food wastes, one for processed/cooked food one for raw. The raw food can be composted and given back to the earth

Best healthiest dinner option I can think of is steamed veggies. Here's my recipe: Heat up a pan on high, pour a bit of water in and then your veggies, stir frequently until all the water is gone. Turn heat down to low. Coat with something like balsamic vinegar and add any seasoning you like. Cover and steam for 10 minutes ish and you're good. You can serve that with a grain or some noodles.

Locally sourced meat and fish is WAY better for the environment than supermarket because there's less preservatives and they're more resourceful with their products.

A standard pie dough is one of the easiest things you can make and the trick is in the amount. Half the flour equals the fat, half the fat equals the sugar. so if you have 200g of flour you need 100g of fat and 50g of sugar. Just throw them in a bowl and mix together and add some cold water to bind together into a dough. It should be solid and little sticky, if it's crumbling add more water, if it's not holding it's shape add more flour. then just fridge it for a few hours to set and you're good.

You made your own soup/stew/pot thingy and you got left overs for the next day? Put it back on the cooker and bring to the boil on high, once it's bubbling take the heat down to low and simmer for 10 minutes (keep stirring if it keeps bubbling). This will help kill any bacteria that developed overnight that might make you sick.

Foraging is good but wear gloves, don't take all from one place and don't eat anything you pick until it's been thoroughly washed. Don't be afraid to go hog wild on things like blackberries, dandelions, or nettles. those things are an invasive species.

Deer are bigger than you think they are.

Air drying takes longer but it will help your clothes last. You can also hand wash with a bowl of hot water and about a teaspoon of washing up powder. Air drying also goes for your hair too.

Stock up on your favourite scented candles any size is ok and use them for spells and rituals.

You got a ghost in your house? Leave them be they're usually just passing through.

If you can't focus on work without music but it needs to be specifically wordless and needs to be easy to fill your brain so you don't focus on every noise other people make listen to animal crossing music that shit got me through two years worth of academic reading.

Bus is late or can't find your keys? Stop looking and start complaining. They'll turn up as soon as you give up.

Piercings are a medical procedure and are safer when they're done with a needle because they're hollow, so they're carving out the skin and cartilage instead of just pushing jewellery through like a gun does. Go to a tattoo parlour that also does piercings bc they're likely to be a lot stricter with rules and customer care.

Life is gonna kick us all in the but so we gotta be there to help eachother out however we can. It definitely feels like it's everyone for themselves but it doesn't have to be.

#I'm 20 #please help #advice #life advice #witchy advice #witch #witchblr #witchcraft #pagan witch #pagan #hellenic pagan #paganism #hellenic witch #kitchen witchcraft #kitchen witch

[boldlyvoid]

ain't it fun?

summary: reader just needs an NA meeting before they have a meltdown, they end up with the best friend they could ever make.

warnings: Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Drug Addiction, Trauma Bonding, narcotics anonymous meetings, Strangers to Lovers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, meet-cute,

word count: 3.3K

a/n: this is completely self-indulgent and overly personal but i def recommend writing why spencer would love you as a form of therapy

read on ao3

In the blink of an eye, she was up and racing around her apartment. Her mental health was like a teeter-totter, and right now she was on her way to the top. Mania was creeping in; changing from just anxiety-induced butterflied to the feeling that she could jump off a building and survive.

That was never a good time. All she wanted was to either spend all her money, fuck a stranger or get high as shit. It made her legs jumpy and her ears ring and she couldn’t take it anymore. It was all too much.

She threw on a sweater and jeans, her hair was up in a butterfly clip and she hastily threw on her fanny pack full of everything she needed as well as a big coat, and she then left her apartment. She got to the stairs before realizing she actually needed to lock the door.

Her hands shook and she tried to slide the key into the lock, dropping them as her neighbour rushed out of the room and startled her. “Sorry,” she heard him say.

She picked up her keys and turned to look at him, “can you help me? I can’t seem to stop shaking,” she asked as she held her keys towards him.

“yes, sure,” he rushed the words out as he walked towards her, only looking at the keys, never in her eyes. But that was okay, she was never a big fan of eye contact.

He placed her keys back in her hand and took a step back, “are you alright?” he asked.

“No,” she said honestly. “I’m going to find an NA meeting.”

“Do you have one in the area? I haven’t seen you around before?”

She shook her head, surprised that he was also an addict, he didn’t look like he’s ever even smoked weed.

“No, I moved in only a little while ago on a whim, but I think it’s time I got some support,” she said as they started to walk down the hallway together. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Spencer,” he smiled softly. “I’m going to a meeting right now, actually, if you’d like to come? I won’t exactly be anonymous to you, but it’s a good one to go to if you just need one to fill the void until you find your preferred group.”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I need.” She smiled at him this time as he held the door open for her. “So, have you lived around here for long?”

“For about a few years now.”

“The building is good then? I was a little hesitant but I needed to get away,” she said, this time holding the door for them to leave the building and turn down the street towards where she knew the subway was.

The moon should be out, she looked up but only sees buildings. It was the one thing she missed the most about not being in the country; seeing the stars and feeling like there was a reason to it all.

“Are you running from someone?” He asks as they start the walk down to the meeting.

“Myself,” she said softly. “I’m on disability and don’t drive and I lived in the middle of nowhere with my parents, well into my 20’s, and I needed a change so my parents surprised me by saving up money for a few month's rent and told me to follow my heart.”

“And you picked Virginia?”

“I stayed in Virginia, just moved into the city. I watch a lot of murder documentaries in my free time, I thought being near Quantico would introduce me to some interesting people, but I have yet to meet anyone from the FBI at all.”

She laughed to herself at how dumb it was that she wanted to meet a profiler like Holden Ford from Mindhunter, “either they are all very good at keeping their jobs secret or Virginia is a very large and densely populated area with a low percentage of FBI agents.”

“Interesting.”

“What?”

“How long have you lived here?” he asked, slowing as he walked so he could look at her.

“2 months.”

“It took you two months to meet the FBI agent across the hall from you.”

“You’re kidding?” she said, stopping on the sidewalk abruptly. “I knew that apartment was calling me for a reason.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but, are you really just coincidentally my neighbour or are you secretly spying on me because you have an evil plan to kill me and my co-workers?” he's completely serious, it's almost scary.

“No offence, Spence, but for a supposed FBI agent that’s a dumb question to ask,” she said, pointing finger guns at him, “you don’t think I’ll give up my cover that easily? Do you?”

He points a finger gun back at her, “technically, I’m a doctor.”

The two of them narrow their eyes at each other, slowly walking in a circle, still facing each other with their make-believe guns trying to hold back smirks. She lowered her ‘weapon’ first. “It’s okay, doctor, don’t worry. I’m not a spy just an idiot with an imagination.”

He giggled softly, “I’ve never felt this comfortable with someone this fast.”

“Well, you are with criminals a lot, right? That would be alarming if you bonded with them,” she said, bumping her shoulder into his as they walked. “But I feel the same. I actually haven’t talked to someone in person in forever.”

“No?”

“I do most of my work and socializing online,” She felt embarrassed, but in today’s day and age, it wasn’t that weird. “I’m not very good outside or with people.”

“If it wasn’t for my job, I don’t think I would go outside very often either. My co-workers are my only friends, they’re more like my family actually.”

“That’s so wonderful to hear, found family is very important,” her smile disappeared as she thought about how alone she was. “Um, can I ask what it is you do at the FBI?”

“Behavioural Analysis.”

“Holy shit," she gasps, knowing way too much about that unit thanks to fucking Netflix, "that’s what the BSU became right? Do you work with the really fucked up shit?” she asked softly.

He laughed, “oh yeah, I really do.”

“Do you share a lot at NA?”

“Kinda, I tend to ramble about facts when I’m nervous so sometimes my short talk becomes more like a ted talk and what was supposed to be just me saying I haven’t relapsed on Dilaudid becomes a lesson on how the human brain works,” he explained, rambling just like he said he would.

She nodded along as he spoke, “funny, that was also my drug of choice.”

“Liquid or oral?”

“Oral. I was given it after I had my appendix out when I was 17. They get you started real young now, big pharma has its hand in everyone's pocket,” she presses her lips together awkwardly, “it was rough.”

He hummed in agreement. “I was held captive by an unsub with multiple personalities. One personality drugged me till I died and the other one brought me back.”

“Spencer, Holy fuck?” she stopped and stared at him so incredibly concerned for someone who just met him. She reached out and grabbed him by the shoulder and looked him in the eyes, “I know I barely know you, but if you need someone to talk I’m literally always across the hall.”

“Thank you,” he smiled softly as he looked back into her eyes. “The meeting is right there across the street, do you want a coffee first? The place beside it is amazing.”

She nodded and he took her hand, looking both ways before J-walking across the street with her to buy her a coffee and a snack. Maybe that would help her stop shaking, he looked like he worried about her and she wasn't used to that at all.

He didn’t talk at this meeting, he sat in the chair beside the group leader, she sat down across from him in the circle so she could focus. When the floor was opened up to new members, Y/N stood at the first chance she got.

“Hi I’m Y/N,” she said, to which she was welcomed by the crowd.

“I’m new to the city and looking for a new home group, not sure if I’ll stay here because I know Spencer outside of here but I really just needed to come today.”

She takes a deep breath as she thinks of how to start it, opting to just explain it and let the rant go where it may.

“I’ve never lived alone before and it’s incredibly hard to occupy my time without drugs. I still smoke weed to help me sleep at night but my addiction is with Dilaudid and then Benadryl a little after having surgery in high school. I don’t know if it’s my trauma, my disability or my Autism, maybe it’s my OCD, I really don’t know, but I just feel so useless and alone and boring and lonely, the drugs used to help but they don’t anymore and I really just don’t want to feel this way anymore.”

They all looked like they understood, small smiles grew all around the circle as she took a lookout at the crowd, “Thank you for letting me get that out.”

Everyone clapped as she sat back down and wiped a tear off her cheek.

The meeting ended shortly after that, Spencer walked from his seat in the circle to where she was sitting, reaching a hand out to help her to her feet. “For the record, I think you’re funny, smart, kind and pretty. And you don’t have to be alone anymore if you don’t want to be.”

She slapped her hand into his and stood up with purpose, “Did we just become best friends?”

“I believe we did.”

The walk home was much like the walk there. They traded facts, they flirted, they laughed, she pushed him into a pole at one point, by accident as they laughed. The two of them stopping to sit at a bus bench, laughing so hard she felt like she would pee her pants right then and there.

By the time they were back on their floor, it was well after midnight. “I don’t think I’ll be able to go back to meetings with you.”

“Oh, why?” he looked disappointed.

“Isn’t rule 13 that you’re not supposed to want to sleep with your group members when you’re healing?”

“Wanting to and doing it are two very different things,” he corrected her as he waited at his own door.

She smirked, “you’re right. Still don’t think I can go back with you, however.”

“I’ll probably have a case tomorrow, they normally take me out of town for at least a week, but when I get back, can I see you?” he asked lightly.

“Knock on my door when you get back,” she said before standing on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. “See you.”

“Bye.”

They waved from their doors before departing, excited by something that felt better than drugs.

—

120 hours later there was a light knock at her door, she knows exactly how long it’s been because she’s been counting and looking out the door at every noise for the whole time he’s been gone. Waiting for him like a wife whose husband went off to war, not knowing when their next correspondence would be.

“Coming,” she called, stopping to fluff her hair and straighten her glasses before she opened the door.

“Spencer!”

“Hi,” he said softly.

She took a moment to look him over, a little in shock at what she saw. He was in a plain t-shirt and track pants, he had not one, but two black eyes, bandages on his brow bone and scrapes all along his arms.

“Are you okay?”

“You should see the other guy,” he giggled softly, rolling his eyes.

“Come in, let’s sit you down.” She worried, taking him by the elbow and helping him inside.

“I’m fine, really, I’m used to this.”

“Well I’m not,” she reminded him with a nervous pout, “am I allowed to ask about it or is it classified stuff?”

He sat on the couch and patted a seat beside himself so she would join him. He rested his arm against the back of the chair so that she could slide in beside him.

“Did you hear about the child abduction in Tampa?”

“Yeah? The two boys?”

“I was trying to talk the unsub down and he dropped the gun but he grabbed me as I turned him around and punched me in the face and we fell into the ditch and I luckily managed to flip over him and get his hands behind his back and cuffed faster than I ever have before.”

“You’re amazing,” she whispered.

He laughed, “if I really was, I would have waited for backup before talking to the guy.”

“I’ve always wanted to help other people get justice but not being able to go to school makes it hard to get a job doing anything meaningful,” she whispered, ashamed of the fact she wasn’t successful like most people her age.

“Our technical analyst was hired because she was an amazing hacker, they will hire anyone who is valuable.” He shrugs and watches her face light up at the idea.

“You know what, we have meetings all this week unless there’s an emergency, if you want I can show you around the office?” he offered. “It’s not illegal for you to pass by what I’m working on and notice something I missed.”

“Spencer, I don’t even know your last name and you’re inviting me to your government job? When just last week you asked, not so jokingly, if I was a secret agent trying to kill you and that you’ve been kidnapped before?”

“Doctor Spencer Reid, and what can I say?” he said shyly, “I’m trying to find excuses to see you smile all the time.”

She placed her hand on his cheek, the tips of her fingers lightly resting on his purple and yellow bruised eyes. She leaned in slowly and kissed him on the lips, so gently as if she’s afraid he’ll break or turn into a frog… he was too good to be true.

“You can see me whenever you want, Doctor Spencer Reid…”

He kissed her again, letting his hands roam her back and she trailed her free hand down his chest. She pulled back slightly to throw a leg over him carefully and sit in his lap. Holding his face in her hands now, she peppered kisses over his bruised face.

She stopped to look at him, still holding his face in her hands as his hands now rested on her hips. “I really like you, Spencer.”

“Really?”

She looks at him carefully, analyzing his response and seeing the hurt that rested deep inside of him, “I take it you’re like me?”

“What does that mean?”

“You try to not get too involved with people because no one has ever shown you true genuine interest or love, and you never think you’ll find it anyway so you push away all small acts of kindness, thinking it’s friendly because then you can’t get your hope up, just to have that person drop them?” she explained herself in a whisper.

He nodded, “you get it.”

She kissed his lips again, and then over his cheek and up to his ear, “I do.”

He looked extra sad when she pulled away, she just held his face gently as she mirrored his puppy dog eyes. Communicating with their eyes, she knew he was okay and he didn’t want to talk about it anymore, so she smiled.

“Want to watch a movie?” She asks softly.

He nods, looking behind her to see she doesn’t have a tv in the living room. “How?”

“In my room, the TV is on my dresser if you don’t mind sitting in my bed?”

He shakes his head in a simple no, picking her up and taking her to her room. He knew where it was purely because her apartment was just his but backwards. She laughs, holding onto him tight as she rests her head on his shoulder.

He sets her down gently, watching her move up to the headboard and wait for him. They got under the blankets and she found the remote in the sheet before she cuddled into him.

“You’re really cuddly,” she complimented him as he wrapped an arm around her and held her close. He kissed the top of her head as a thank you.

“I think I’m going to end up falling in love with you, Spencer Reid,” she whispers the words, afraid of them more than his response.

“I beat you to it,” he whispers right back.

She shoots up, turning to look at him with surprise. “How?”

He looks at her like she grew two heads, “what do you mean how?”

“How did you fall in love with me? You don’t even know me?” She’s so confused, no one has ever loved her before and it’s a lot to take in.

“Y/N…” his face drops, his heart physically breaks in front of her. “I don’t know you, you're right. Not all of you, at least. I’m sure you have your hidden doors and locked cupboards but from the outside, I see you’re so beautiful, you’re radiant… your mind is lovely. You’re so kind, you’re so brave, you’re everything I wish I could be as charismatically as you are.”

She’s just swallowing over and over as she shakes her head and breathes through her nose, processing it. She’s breathing deeply then, staring off and she feels like she’s having a new kind of panic attack. A happier one, somehow?

“I don’t like myself, but if you like me I guess I must be pretty nice,” she smiles, accepting his praise and believing him. “Yeah. Thank you, Spencer.”

He smiles then, it’s cute and press-lipped and she swears he almost has dimples. His eyes are like honey and his lips are like roses. She leans in, kissing him and reaching a hand back to cup the nape of his neck.

He doesn’t know it, but he’s the first person she’s kissed in a few years. They’re soft, peck after peck as they hold each other softly, eyes open as they watch each other experience the happiness of finding someone good, finally.

“I uh, I wanted to tell you I’m almost exactly everything you described yourself as in the meeting,” he whispers against her lips, the air touching her skin gently as she absorbs the words.

“What part? My diagnosis or my self-hatred?” She smiles, okay with either really.

“Almost both, I’m pretty hard to be around.”

She shakes her head, “I invited you in for a movie, not a pity party. You can tell me everything you hate right now and then we should just share the good parts okay? Brag about yourself. Tell me what you’re proud of.”

She was really serious, keeping a stern look on her face as she spoke. He nodded, “I’m anxious all the time, I’m always worried because I’ve never had anyone to worry about me. I don’t know how to be a real person really, all I do is drink coffee and solve crimes and I barely sleep. And the only time I was relaxed and okay is when I was on drugs.”

She nodded, “it fucking sucks, doesn’t it? Like why did we get stuck like this, I don't care about peaking in high school but didn’t we deserve some kind of love and support? I’ve never understood if souls and shit are real, why did mine pick this terrible meat suit and awful traumatic path?”

She’s crying because she’s angry and because she’s never said it to anyone before. He cries because she understands. She truly knows.

“I love you,” he announces. “Just because of that.”

Taglist: @blanchardsbk @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

[princess-of-the-corner]

Avatar Ty Lee AU: Stuff the Gaang does in the Fire Nation before the eclipse. Hama, pretending to be the Painted Lady, the school, and the play.

Lol again that's like half a book lmao rip. I do have all that in my notes though. I have up to 'The Firebending Masters' noted out. Some episodes are more fleshed out than others.

Anyway! Onto this bullshit! I'm gonna do this by episode because I can.

1: The Awakening:

A lot is the same as Canon. We even skip that time between books for everyone to recover.

People believe that at least one of the Avatars was killed. Ty Lee is fine, but still kinda sore. But still they decide to lay low for a bit and travel separately

Jin has been learning how to fight! She's not great but she's not entirely helpless either!

Meanwhile, popping over to Noriko and Ozai. She tells him straight up 'I think the one Avatar is dead, but I know better not to underestimate them. Still, we have more important things to plan with the Eclipse coming up so let's send an assassin to hunt them down for us."

2. The Headband.

Honestly I'm skipping parts of this. Mostly because the Fire Nation kids would know better than to be caught during 'school hours' so they wouldn't get dragged into a classroom.

They still do discuss a lot of the propaganda stuff the Fire Nation has going on. It's low-key been a theme throughout the series, but this has a focus on what is actually being taught.

The Gaang still does manage to interact with the local kids and decide to fuck shit up.

This is probably where they get word of what their old ship's crew has been up to on the whole sabotage front. Mostly just like. running into someone from the crew who recognizes them and updates them.

3. The Painted Lady

Most of this remains the same, but the discussion is more on like. Aftermath and a long term plan.

Right now they need to get rid of Fire Lord Ozai. But what happens after? And it's going to take years to repair the damage, both to the rest of the world but also to the Fire Nation itself. And some damage can't be repaired at all.

Plus like. Who's going to replace Ozai as Fire Lord? THey have to make sure it will be someone not hellbent on starting shit again.

Honestly a lot of Zuko's arc throughout this AU is focused on him taking the leader role so it definitely fits when he does take the throne afterward.

Episode 4: Sokka's Master

So! Obviously we're replacing Sokka's arc here with Jin's.

Because like. We have more non-benders in the Gaang right now. Plus Zuko who does Bend but also knows swords. So Sokka had enough time of learning to hone his skills with them, and they're all on equal ground including when sparring against the Benders.

But Jin only has a few months of on the fly training so she is the one who seeks out some master to teach her.

And yes she gets the meteorite sword!

5: The Beach

We get mostly them hanging on a beach and having an existential crisis and just kinda. Trauma dumping! But also with some genuine therapy.

Until Combustion Man ruins the night.

6: The Avatar and the Firelord

Honestly pretty the same but it's both Aang and Ty Lee getting a shared vision of what happened between Roku and Sozin.

7: The Runaway

So this both goes the same but differently.

Basically. When they first left the South Pole, Katara had been able to relax a little. Iroh was there playing the adult supervision/parental role. She didn't have to. She still was kind of the mother hen of the group, but it wasn't as major an anxiety.

Now that it's just the kids on their own, she's kind of. Overcompensating on being the Adult and such. Even though she's not the oldest at all but she's so used to having to be the adult anyway. She had that break and now it's full force.

Everyone is a little worried and maybe slightly annoyed. But Toph has the most pushback due to her previous relationship with her parents and her personality. So they end up in their fight.

We have more peaceful conflict resolution thanks to Sokka and Mai. Sokka is able to explain all the above to Toph. Meanwhile, Mai helps Katara realize why Toph responded the way she did.

They do come to a comprimise and having fun running a scam though. Then we get Combustion Man again damn it.

8: The Puppetmaster

This goes mostly the same actually. Like, obviously we face the 'half the group can relate to what Hama went through, and the other half feels guilt for what happened'. They try to talk her down from the whole bloodbending thing, but it doesn't work and they can't just leave her to keep harming the innocent townsfolk.

This is another one where it prompts more discussion. A lot of like. How the Elements can be terrifying. A Waterbender could Bloodbend, or drown someone on land. Earth can easily crush people. An Airbender could suck the air out of someone's lungs. And they all know how destructive Fire can be.

It ends somewhat happier. A reminder that those elements had both good and bad.

Though they struggle to find 'good' aspects of fire outside of the superficial.

This comes back later.

9; Nightmares and Daydreams

So. Somehwat similar on Aang's part here. ofc Ty Lee has been planning Ozai's death for years so she's not as nervous, but Aang, while good in combat, is not a combative person. And he's also nervous because Ty Lee's Elements aren't quiiite all learned.

However! Let's talk about Azula's nightmares instead!

Because honestly, she's terrified of her father. She doesn't show it, but she is. She always has been. And for the first 11 years of her life, her way to avoid his wrath was to do all that he asked. To be good for him. That if she wasn't....

Well. She's spent the past three years defying him. She's joined up with Team Avatar against him, and is helping take him down.

If he burned and banished Zuko for 'speaking out of turn', what will he do to her?

And more importantly, if faced with the choice of sticking by them or avoiding Ozai's anger, what would she really choose? It's easy when he's not around. When he can't get to her. But they're about to come face to face. What could happen then?

Of course she doesn't voice any of this.

#avatar!ty lee au

[fratboykate]

But? no?? Why??? Did we hurt you in some way???? (Don’t answer that. I know we have.)

How did Kate lose so badly at therapy? How do they get back together?

EXCUSE ME hello I’m gunna need more of after that therapy session. Obviously we know they get back together but imma need more. The angst is EVERYTHING

---

now I’m dying to know how kate will fix this mess

///

Here's 2k of...not that much angst???

---

It's been over a month since that night and that party. Kate is hanging out at her apartment by herself. Her friends have invited her to come out, but she's been all mopey and depressed since the whole mess with Yelena. While usually, this would be the exact situation where her bad judgment would kick in, and her instincts would be to go out and get FUCKED that's the last thing she feels like doing right now. Instead, she's lying in bed scrolling through her phone.

Then it rings. It's her brother. She almost doesn't pick up. Almost. But she does.

"Hey…Where are you?…Goddamn it Deej…How much?…ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?!…Put me on speaker…PUT ME ON SPEAKER!…Yo, it's his sister. I'll have the money, just text me the address. But dude, don't touch him. Don't put your hands on him. He's a fucking kid. I'm coming."

Kate hangs up the phone, grabs her wallet and keys, and rushes to the door.

---

Kate stops at the ATM, takes out as much money as the machine will give her, then moves.

---

She rides the train to the garage, uncovers her car, and takes off.

She gets on the highway to Jersey and she's SPEEDING. She's switching lanes, cutting in between cars, merging recklessly. It's the same asshole type of driving that Yelena calls her out for all the time, but this time she's STRESSED on top of it, which makes it a hundred times worse.

She grabs her phone and makes a call. It goes to voicemail.

"Dad, Deej is in trouble. I'm on I-95 on my way to Jersey. Call me back."

Kate throws her phone on the passenger seat. After a minute, she takes her eye off the road to reach for the phone again. When she does, she gets too close to a car and has to swerve.

Kate calls Yelena. As expected, Yelena doesn't pick up.

"Hey. Fuck. Something's happening with DJ. I don't know much but I guess he owes twenty grand to a dealer in Jersey. Most I could get out of the ATM tonight was five so I'm on the highway, on my way to try and buy him some time until I can get the rest tomorrow morning. I don't know why I'm calling you, just wanted to hear your voice I guess. You always know what to say. I don't know if you'll even listen to this. Probably not since you hate me now…Fuck."

Kate hangs up and throws the phone on the passenger seat.

Kate speeds up.

Kate's up to about 120 MPH now.

Kate's swerving.

A couple of minutes pass. Her phone rings. She looks over, hoping it's Yelena calling her back, but it's her dad. She reaches over to grab it. By the time she looks back up, she's pretty much already rammed full speed into the pick-up truck that's in front of her.

Her car model is low to the ground, so the cargo bed of the pick-up goes CLEAN THROUGH the windshield.

That thing coming at her face is the last thing Kate remembers seeing.

---

For how tough she's been acting, Yelena still listens to the voicemail as soon as she sees it. She resists calling Kate back for about an hour, but she eventually does. When it starts going straight to voicemail and texts go green, she knows something is wrong. By the following morning, when she hasn't heard from Kate she's like "JDKSJFJD WHAT THE FUCK?!" And then…….then she gets the text from Susan.

Susan texts Yelena and fills her in as soon as she learns what happened to her sister. Yelena would've never found out if it weren't for the thirteen-year-old. Kate's parents might not let Yelena in to see Kate, but they also can't kick her out of the entire hospital, so Yelena plants herself in the waiting room.

Even the doctors agree that Kate is alive by some fucking type of miracle. She isn't deathly injured. She's just hella banged and cut up because of all the glass that basically directly exploded in her face. The steering wheel was pressed up to her chest for hours until they could cut her out, so her ribs are BRUISED TO HELL, but luckily they're not broken. All she did was shatter her ankle, which…given how fast she was going, and if you saw the state of that car, it's like…unfathomable that she made it out with just lacerations (Bad Ones but still just cuts), serious fucking bruising all over, and a broken ankle.

Kate is out for most of the first day. The only time Yelena actually got to see Kate was when Susan schemed to get Eleanor out of the room for like ten minutes and Yelena sneaked in. Yelena sees Kate and her heart fucking disintegrates. She knows Kate isn't going to die, but she still very well could've. That crash was bad. It could've gone so differently, and if it had, the last thing she would've ever heard Kate say to her was that she thought Yelena hated her. That's what Kate would've died thinking. It's so far from the truth.

Susan texts her that they're on their way back to the room and Yelena has to leave.

---

Kate gets discharged a couple days later and her mom takes her home.

Within like 36 hours Kate is like "I CAN'T FUCKING DEAL WITH YOU AND YOUR ENERGY I'M OUT."

Eleanor is like "????????? Your entire chest is bruised you LITERALLY can't move. You can barely breathe?????????"

"I'LL FIGURE IT OUT!"

So Kate limps and wheezes her way out of there and goes to her apartment.

---

Kate is splayed out on her bed, MISERABLE, hasn't eaten in hours because she can't even muster the energy to make her way to the kitchen when she hears the front door open.

She's like "????????????????? UHHHHHHHHHH………HELLO???????????"

And two seconds later, Yelena appears at her bedroom door with shopping bags in her hands.

"Suze told me you ran for the hills. More like limped but…same difference." Yelena drops the bags in the kitchen and comes back to hover at the door. "What do you want for dinner?"

Kate looks at her completely bewildered.

"What's happening?"

"I'm making dinner???"

Kate squints.

"I'm not at all complaining about…THIS…I'm just…confused…"

Yelena moves from the door to the bed and sits cross-legged on the empty half of the mattress, right by where Kate's cut-up hand rests. She doesn't take it, but she's millimeters from it.

"I'm not forgetting. It's not a clean slate. We're going back to Dr. O'Grady. We still have all that shit to work through…but I don't hate you. Not even a little bit. Not even if I tried. You could've died thinking I did and me being stubborn isn't worth that."

"I'm there. Every session. I'll go to other couple's sessions and solve their problems too." Yelena laughs. "I don't care. Whatever it takes."

A beat of silence.

"Kate…don't lie to me. Ever again. About anything. And especially not about that. Your friends can do whatever they want. I don't care if you're around them when they do that shit. They are who they are but if you want to be with me…no more. You used up your one free pass."

"No more. Easy. I told you. That was just fun. It's over."

"Okay."

Yelena finally reaches out to hold Kate's hand.

"You should've told me this is all it took. I would've slammed my car into something a month ago."

Yelena rolls her eyes and huffs.

"Why are you like this?"

"Lovable and charming?"

"Stupid and obnoxious."

"Tsk! Doesn't sound like me at all."

Kate laughs but quickly hisses in pain. Her hand flies to her chest.

"Let me see."

When Yelena lifts her shirt Kate's ENTIRE chest is yellow and green.

"KATE…fuck…"

"Yeah…steering wheels and ribs are not a marriage made in heaven. You know what might fix it tho…"

Kate smirks. Yelena shakes her head and rolls her eyes. She knows that face and that tone. She can already tell where this is going.

"Kate Bishop…"

"WHAT?! I've gotten NO LOVE for weeks and weeks…now I'm sitting here…on the verge of death…"

"You are NOT on the verge of death."

"Says who?!"

"Every doctor."

"…I am here…ON THE VERGE OF DEATH…and I haven't even gotten a single kiss yet? Does that sound fair to you? It doesn't sound fair to me!"

"It might be unfair if you were dying but…since you aren't…"

"Will you really deny me some of your sweet sweeeeet sugar lovin' after my HORRIBLE AND TRAUMATIZING near-death experience?"

Yelena sighs and leans down to press a gentle kiss on Kate's lips.

"I love you."

Kate whispers when Yelena ends the kiss and hovers a hair over her face.

"I love you too."

"Do I get another one of those?"

Yelena obliges.

"Another?"

Yelena gives her a third kiss.

"One more."

"You're done."

"The back of that truck was coming at me in slow motion. Horrendous. I'll probably be having nightmares about that FOREVERRRRR."

"Go to therapy about it."

Yelena tells her playfully.

"Your lips are my therapy!"

"You're so dumb."

"Oh! Maybe I have brain damage! Maybe they didn't catch it! Quick! I'm in my last moments!"

Kate pulls her back down. Yelena shakes her head but gives in and kisses her.

"Enough! Food! I'm hungry. What do you want?!"

"How can eating even cross your mind when I'm here…lying on death's doorstep…"

"You're gonna milk this aren't you?"

"Every single drop."

Kate gives her a shit-eating smile and then puckers her lips begging for another kiss. Yelena shoves her face away.

"CAREFUL! THIS IS AN INJURED FACE!"

"You'll live."

Yelena stands from the bed and heads for the door.

"JURY'S STILL OUT ON THAT!"

"No, it really isn't…Are you gonna tell me what you want for dinner or not?"

"You."

"You can barely take a deep breath right now. Sex is off the table."

"Why?"

"I thought you were 'on the verge of death'?"

"What if it helps with a miraculous recovery?"

"No sex."

"Can you at least flash me?"

Yelena can't help but laugh.

"You're such a pig!"

"Just like…..lift your shirt a little…two minutes…help a poor dying boy…"

"FOOD! WHAT DO YOU WANT?!"

"Left boob…with a side of right boob."

"I hate you so much. I'm making whatever and you can't complain."

Yelena leaves the room.

"What if you come back and I've stopped breathing and you didn't give me my dying wish?!"

After a long moment of silence, Yelena reappears under the doorway with her shirt off, a playful smile painted on her face, and leaves almost as quickly as she appears.

"TOO FAST! THAT WAS TOO FAST! COME BACK! NOT FAIR! I WASNT READY!"

"Oh well, deal with it."

Yelena tells her from the kitchen.

"THAT DOESN'T COUNT! I DEMAND A DO-OVER! GET BACK HERE! YELENAAAAAA! BABY, DON'T DONT BE A NIPPLE HOG!"

She can hear Yelena cackling from the kitchen.

"What the fuck?! You're a fucking weirdo…and I love you so much."

---

DJ fared much worse than Kate did. When she didn't show up that night and wouldn't answer her phone, he got his ass beat. But since Kate had luckily called her dad, when they found out that she ended up in the hospital, he then called DJ and tried to figure out what the fuck kind of trouble he was in.

But that wasn't until the next morning. By then, the kid was black and blue.

#kyfbau #anonymous #answers #kyfbaup

[blush-and-books]

Ray Molina headcanons?

ANON OH MY GOD THE WAY I DIDN'T KNOW I NEEDED TO RECEIVE THIS ASK UNTIL I GOT IT

Let's go.

He majored in communications at a local college and took a photography class to fill an elective requirement

He never went back to communications. Sir fell in love with his camera

Rose hit on him, not the other way around. But he was taking pictures of her during her show before she came up to him, so really, who did make the first move?

Ray entered a competition to win a photography grant that he ended up using to start his business. The winning photos were of Rose, and even some of Rose and Julie when Julie was a kid.

He can cook to an extent. He's not that great, but not awful either.

Breakfast is the most important meal of the day and he will preach this until the DAY he dies

He was really fucking excited to have a daughter. He was beyond hyped.

HANDS-ON DAD TO THE MAX. I MEAN WE KNEW THIS ALREADY BUT SIR WAS THE FIRST TO CHANGE DIAPERS AND FEED THE BABY AND WAS AN ABSOLUTE DREAM

I feel like he was raised with an emphasis on being independent where's Rose was raised with an "it takes a village" mentality; so while he is trying to take care of everything himself he has Tía Victoria advocating as their village and busting her ass to stay on top of things and Ray def learns it's okay to ask for help

He wants to feel like he can take care of everything by himself because he used to have a partner and having that partner was really big for him so now that he didn't have that he was back to that independent structure

Also due to this urge to be strong and independent he was very insistent to jump on any needs that his kids had (moving, therapy, sports, etc) with the hope that they wouldn't perceive him to be falling apart

Because he's so sociable and kind, he's always had a very strong relationship with his children. We see it in nearly every interaction with Julie and Carlos

And this is why there's cause for concern when Julie starts hiding things

But in the end, bringing it back to how he was desperate to do anything the kids needed after Rose's death, he only wanted to do things that would help Julie and continue to promote that relationship

His favorite color is blood orange/red

His guilty pleasure is Matchbox 20

Rocky road ice cream is his favorite flavor

Terrible dancer but Rose loved to dance so they would dance all the time

Low-key feel like he set Bobby/Trevor up with Carries mom and I don't know why

There was always a weird vibe with him and Bobby/Trevor (seeing as most likely B/T provided them w the house they live in) so he was always trying to do shit to maybe reciprocate such a generous act

Flynn and him are besties and any day that goes by where Flynn doesn't come over he will text her to ask if she had a good day!!!

He is a big fan of soccer and def prayed for Carlos to want to play soccer but now loves baseball too

While we know him and Tía probably had a weird start and are still in an odd place both trying to mourn, I hc that we will get strong friendship and family vibes from them. I love them as a duo and how Tía brought forth character development for him, and that they can bond over Rose!

Shoutout to @bluefirewrites for reading over this and helping me elaborate on stuff!

And thank you so much anon, this was so much fun, we are a RAY MOLINA STANNING HOUSEHOLD😤🏠

I LOVE YOU KING

#this was the most fun ever omg #jatp #julie and the phantoms #ray molina #jatp headcanons

[watermelonlipstick]

Losing

This was written as a request for the eternally lovely @samwisethegr8​. Hope you like it, baby! Idk where the chipmunk stuff came in, I must’ve had forests on the brain or something. As always, I’d love any advice or critiques!!

Title: Losing

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 3283

Summary: Losing her hair following a spell makes it challenging for the reader to feel like herself. 

Warnings: swearing, fluff, hair loss

           Dean knows better, by now, than to say anything about the beanie you straighten as you get into the backseat, giving you some soft eyebrows in the rearview mirror that are maybe worse than if he’d kept joking about it. Typical, for the spell making your hair shed like some cartoon pulling out fists in a temper tantrum to be one of the few you’d seen hang on after the casting witch died. You’d been doing research for weeks now on ways to get it back with nothing to show for your efforts except a few stomachaches from attempted potions (and one influencer-inspired collagen and ACV concoction you’d dumped out after feeling ridiculous). Sam had convinced you that getting back into the swing of things might make you feel better, and was trying a little too hard to be cheerful next to his brother in the front seat.

           “The weather’s so nice today—sometimes you forget how good the sun feels, being in the bunker for a while.” He flashes a smile over to Dean expectantly, willing him to say something encouraging too. Dean looks exasperated for a fleeting second before relenting.

           “Yeah, uh, great day for a drive.” You catch the tail end of his tiny eye roll in the rearview mirror.

           “If you guys are going to treat me like an invalid I’m out of here.”

           “Invalid? I just think it’s a nice day out,” Sam says, trying for indignancy through his put-on ignorance and not quite hitting it. Looking back at you over his shoulder, he’s able to hold onto it for about 2 seconds of eye contact before his face relaxes into more familiar kindness. “Okay, fine, sorry. I’m just happy you’re coming.”

           He’s unphased by your glare back at him, keeps up the sympathetic puppy dog eyes because he knows your snark is coming from a pit of frustration and self-consciousness. Just like Dean’s tenderness of omission in not saying anything about it today, it’s simultaneously comforting and annoying. You feel a lump forming in your throat. “Stop looking at me like that.”

           “Like what?” Sam seems a little hurt.

           “Like I’m dying or something. Both of you. I’m serious, you’re making it so much worse.”

           Dean catches your eyes in the reflection. “Kid, you just seem so fuckin’ bummed. It’s only hair, it’s probably even going to grow back.”

           “Easy for you to say, you’re not going fucking bald! So, are we going or are we doing group therapy in the driveway all day?” You can hear that you’re being too harsh but can’t muster up the energy to stop, flopping into the seatback with your jacket balled in your lap. Sam and Dean exchange a look and Dean turns the key in the ignition.

           It really is a nice day, sun streaming through the windows of the Impala and cutting the still-slightly-chilly spring air just enough to be pleasant. You make a conscious effort to let go of your indignation, counting farm houses on the way out of town as a sort of meditation. Dean starts singing along to the Deep Purple tape playing, and when he catches a glimpse of your smirk he really hams it up, banging out the drum line on the steering wheel and pulling faces that would make Billy Idol jealous. After a few bars you can’t help yourself and start to laugh, the excited accomplishment that breaks through Dean’s act to light up his eyes sending a pang right to your heart. He holds his fist up in a facsimile of an invisible microphone to Sam, who plays along. By the end of the next song the Impala is rocking like Madison Square Garden, radio up so loud you can barely hear your own thoughts as you scream-sing until you’re laughing so hard you can barely catch your breath. The music changes over the next few hours,  the volume turned down for snippets of conversation or debriefing about the upcoming case from Sam then back up for one of Dean’s favorite B-sides, and by the time the sun is going down you’re genuinely only thinking of how hungry you are while Dean turns into a diner that stands alone sharing a parking lot with a strip mall.

           Dean’s two steps toward the restaurant by the time Sam has the back door opened to offer his hand to you. He looks surprised when you don’t take it right away, standing there awkwardly for an extended beat with his palm outstretched and his head tilted like a curious dog.

           “I’m not going in.”

           Through the windshield you can see Dean stop and turn back toward the car, jamming his hands in his jacket pockets like he thinks he’ll be waiting in the chilly evening for a while. Sam wraps his fingers around the top of the door and runs his other hand through his hair. “Babe, come on, it’s just some stupid diner. No one will even notice.”

           “Sam, I’ll notice. Forget it. I’ll wait here, you guys go—grab me a sandwich or something.”

           His lips tighten into a sympathetic but frustrated line and he looks over the car to his brother, who shrugs without taking his hands out of his pockets. Loud enough that you can hear him through the windows and around the car, Dean calls out, “How’re you planning on talking to the sheriff if you won’t even walk into a diner, hot shot?”

           You match his volume. “Good point—I’m not planning on talking to the sheriff, I’m staying in the motel.”

           Sam takes a deep breath and winces. “You don’t know anyone here and we’ll never see them again. You’ve gotta eat something. Please?”

           “You’re not the fuckin’ Elephant Man, you’re a chick wearing a hat,” Dean offers loudly, absolutely not helping. Sam shoots him a look that says as much and clenches his jaw. Dean shrugs and opens his jacket with pocketed hands as if to say ‘what?’ Sam jerks his chin toward the diner and Dean nods, spinning lazily on his heel to walk in alone. When Sam moves forward, you slide over on the bench seat to allow him to sit next to you in the backseat.

           “It’s just hair.” He says, low and soothing, just above a whisper. “You’re still the same person.”

           You let your head roll back onto the seat behind you. “You don’t get it—my hair was the only pretty thing about me.”

           Sam’s face contorts in disbelief like you’ve just told him not only are unicorns real, but you have one in your duffel bag. “What?”

           “You heard me,” you repeat, training your eyes Dean through the diner window, winking at a woman in her mid-twenties whose cheeks are full and cherubic under bright, friendly eyes. You can see even from here that she bites the inside of her lip to keep from beaming back at him, holding onto his gaze for a beat longer than necessary before taking her tiny notepad back to the kitchen.

           Sam shifts to put himself more directly in your line of sight. “Baby, the pretty thing about you is you. These hands are beautiful because they’re yours, because they, I don’t know, put an extra dryer sheet in with the laundry so it smells amazing, scratch Dean’s back when he can’t fall asleep. Your eyes are the first ones I want to see every day, not only because they’re beautiful—and don’t argue with me about this for once, please—but because they’re the same ones that always seem to notice that last symbol we’re looking for after I’ve read a stupid book of runes 400 times. Your lips—” he pauses, touching your lower lip with his thumb so light it could be a feather, “—are beautiful because they’re the only ones that I can hear your voice through. Was your hair beautiful? Of course. And it’ll be beautiful again.”

           “You don’t kno—”

           He rolls his eyes. “I do know, but even if it isn’t, you’ll still be you. You can borrow mine if you want.” Sam’s eyes are so earnest, so sweet as a tiny smile tugs at his mouth, that you can’t help yourself as you lean forward and press your lips to his. The way he kisses you back is such naked affection and relief, slipping a hand around the side of your neck to cradle your jaw, that it’s hard not to believe it’s how he really feels. 

           The moment is broken when Dean opens the driver’s side, startling you enough to take a sharp intake of breath against Sam’s cheek. “Quit sucking face and look alive,” he says, nonplussed as he hooks an arm over the front seat to hand you a paper bag filled with Styrofoam boxes.

           “That was, ah, fast,” Sam replies, and it’s almost steady enough to hide the stammer.

           “3 BLTs, not like they fucking built the Great Wall. Waitress in there said there’s a motel in the next town over, 10 minute drive.” He waits until you have the bag supported with a hand on the bottom and one taking the handle from him. Sam squeezes your thigh once before slinking back into the front seat, but Dean’s eyes stay trained on you. “Touch my fries and die.”

           You manage to keep your mitts off everyone’s fries until you pull into Walnut Suites a few minutes later, thinking to yourself it sounds like some kind of hotel for squirrels and hope sort of absentmindedly it’s one of the kinds of motels that decorates to a theme; even when they’re stupid—maybe especially when they’re stupid—anything to break up the monotony of thousands of motel rooms over the years is welcome in your book. Sam coming out of the office dangling a room key attached to a plastic walnut is evidence that you might be in luck, and you grab the food as you get out of the backseat.

           Dean already has your duffel bag slung over his shoulder. “This feels light; you bring your gun?”

           You wait a second to see if he’ll figure it out himself, but Dean only raises his eyebrows and juts his chin out like you haven’t heard him. “Hardly need a blow dryer now, do I?”

           If there was more light in the parking lot you’d probably have been able to see Dean’s cheeks flush as he cleared his throat to cover. “Uh, right. Do still need a gun though, so as long as you’ve got that.” He offers Sam his bag and shuts the trunk as his little brother reaches the parked car.

           “Apparently we’re in the chipmunk room.” Sam’s going for above-it-all but he knows you secretly like this kind of shit and drops the key into your palm with a wink. “It’s the only one with queens instead of fulls.”

           “Whatever,” Dean grumbles. “I’m hungry enough I’d eat a damn chipmunk.”

           “What does that even mean?” Sam asked, annoyed in a way only a sibling can be as the brothers trail after you to the room.

           “That I’m fucking hungry, what do you think?”

           “A chipmunk is like, the smallest animal you could possibly say. It doesn’t make any sense; anyone could eat a chipmunk.”

           “You trying to chow down on a chipmunk kabob, Sammy? Aren’t you like 99% vegan now? It’s the principle of the thing.”

           Sam rolls his eyes in over the top sarcasm. “Yeah, I’m vegan now, that’s why I’m about to eat a BLT with mayo, dumbass.”

           “Bacon doesn’t count. And it’s about timing; you said chipmunk room, I said I could eat a chi—you know what, I’m not explaining this to you. You either understand comedy or you don’t.”

           As you open the door, the light from the room illuminates Sam’s bitch face kicking back on his neck. Winchester bickering had already put a smirk on your lips but the décor was everything chintzy you could’ve hoped for; forest embroidered quilts on the beds and a chain of hand-holding chipmunks that appeared to be hand painted in a waist-high border around the walls. The bed frames were made of those stripped logs that could look very chic in otherwise minimalistic Scandinavian architecture, but here they looked impossibly cute and dorky with chipmunk stuffed perched on each bedpost. Dean seems not to notice any of it at all, throwing his duffel on the bed closest to the door and snatching the bag of food out of your hand.

           The three of you eat watching Alf while sprawled on various furniture. When the half-hour flips the programming over to Mork and Mindy, you offer Dean the rest of your fries and get up to stretch your back. “Either of you dying to use the bathroom? I want a shower.”

           Both shake their heads so you grab your ditty bag and head to the reasonably sized bathroom, trying not to be startled at the large Chip and Dale portrait painted onto the back of the door that reveals itself in the mirror when you go to set your things down. It’s clean and the water pressure is good, which is far more than you can say for many similar places you’ve stayed in, and you linger in the shower longer than you need to, shaving your legs twice for an excuse to stay under the water and out from under the oppressive weight of your self-consciousness here where the boys can’t see you. Washing your remaining hair as quickly as possible and chuckling once, mirthlessly, at the lingering reflex to squirt the amount you used to need into your palm, you finally leave the shower with only momentary nausea at the amount of hair you have to grab from the drain to let the water empty. For the ever-growing list of pros and cons for shaving your head you’d been building in your head: no more shucking these sopping hairballs into tacky little wastebins across America. You wrap a towel into a turban around your head more as a reflex of propriety than anything, marveling again at the amount of rituals there are—were—around hair. Maybe being unburdened by that would be freeing. And it feels sentimental in an annoying pseudo-useless way staying attached to the hair that remains, like lingering in the victimization of this stupid spell when you could just as easily shave your head and be done with it, become some kind of Tank Girl badass version of yourself and pretend you’re too cool and tough to care about girly shit like ponytails and the way Sam held his nose to the crown of your head sometimes, took a deep inhale of you and smiled so you could feel it laid on top of your hair like a tiara more precious than any you could imagine. In any case it won’t be right now, so you throw the loose t-shirt you’d gotten from your bag over the towel on your head and slip on some athletic shorts before heading out to the room.

           You were in the shower for even longer than you thought because Dean is in his standard “just-before-sleeping-on-the-road” outfit, having lost the flannel he wore that day as well as his belt. The jeans will come off just before he gets in bed, pooled on the floor with neatly set boots beside the mattress so he can jump into them like a firefighter if he needs to, an old habit that you’d stopped making fun of the Winchesters for when it actually had come in handy a few times. Sam usually folds the jeans and sets them on top of his boots next to your bed. Dean grabs one of your hands and flips it over for inspection as you walk by. “Surprised you’re not a raisin. Going to send this county into a drought.”

           You roll your eyes good-naturedly and toss your toiletries on your bag as you head to your bed, watching Sam brush his teeth in the kitchenette sink. Dean follows with a tight handful of clean tee and boxers as Sam comes back to you, the younger Winchester grabbing the back of his collar to tug off his t-shirt and toss it on top of his bag in one fluid motion before folding back the sheets and getting in. Over your shoulder, the shower turns on and you can hear Dean humming through the door. The beanie you’d taken off was exactly where you’d left it, and you flipped your head over to take off the towel on your head and replace it with the hat as inconspicuously as possible.

           “Babe, you don’t—” Sam starts softly, stopping when he sees you turn back to him with your jaw set.

           “Can we just go to sleep?” you reply, almost succeeding at keeping the sting out of your voice. He bites his lip and nods mostly to himself, flicking the covers on your side back in invitation. You crawl in, turning your back to him partly to be wrapped up by the warm shell of his body and partly so he can’t see your face. A large hand covers your hand where it lays on your sternum, intertwining your fingers in his and pulling you back into him a touch. After a long minute of listening to the shower-dampened noise of Dean going through Skynyrd’s greatest hits, you feel Sam’s voice through the knit on your head.

           “I feel like we’re camping.”

           “What?” you ask, genuinely confused.

           “You wearing a hat to bed, you only do that when it’s freezing.”

           “I really don’t want to tal—”

           “I know you don’t, but I just…you’ve been boxing me out for weeks now. Listen, I know I don’t get it, I know it’s not the same as if it had happened to me, and I’m so sorry you’re dealing with this, but I don’t care about your hair. I mean—fuck—not like that, I care about it because I care that it’s affecting you, but I just wish I could get you to understand that nothing about the way I think of you has changed. You’re always going to be the sweet, funny, badass girl I’m beyond lucky lets me hang around. It’s like this spell took your hair but the real punishment is putting this wall up around you.”

           You take a deep breath to steady your voice and realize there’s no way you’re going to be able to talk without it cracking, instead just yanking the hat off your head and letting it fall to the ground beside Sam’s jeans. He hesitates for a second before pressing his face to you, and you can feel the smile against your scalp. It’s a struggle, but you manage not to wince when he kisses a spot you know is effectively completely bald.

           “You smell good,” he murmurs against you, and you don’t know why it’s that simple statement, after all the flowery poetic things he’s said for weeks and especially today, but there’s something about the total acceptance, no hint of the disgust you thought was inevitable no matter how hard he tried to insist wasn’t there, that melts you. It’s enough to unwrap some of the defensive prickliness you’ve built up, and the amount of emotional energy you’ve been putting into keeping it there dissolves the way it sometimes does the second your body realizes the adrenaline of a hunt is no longer needed and you crash in the backseat of the Impala. The heat from Sam’s body and the delicate sound of his heavy breathing on your neck puts you to sleep before Dean’s out of the shower.

-

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!

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#sam winchester #sam fanfiction #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester one shot #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam x reader #sam x you #sam fluff #sam winchester fluff #hair loss #spn fluff #spn fic #spn #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #supernatural fluff #supernatural one shot #spn oneshot

[ofsilenceandscreaming]

X

#gd i wish i could just talk to my therapist abt if i have d/i/d or smth other than what i was diagnosed with as a kid #hhhhhhh but by the time of my next therapy appointment I'll already forget the question or feel utterly embarrassed for not talkin #abt what the therapist wants to talk abt #..... #i honestly don't know if my internal thoughts are normal. like #okay an example #say i haven't taken a bath ir shower for a long enough period of time. the first though just poses the question: should #i take a shower? and two more voices? thought lines? start to argue #the second voice tells me 'no. you need to cut down on the amount of water you're using bc u've done a ton of laundry lately n the water #bill's gonna be high enough as it is.' then the other one just says 'the water bill's gonna be high anyways. u need to take care of urself. #actually don't take a shower until everything's done bc showering isn't productive.' #and the thoughts just start arguing and i just end up laying in bed or trying to tune the world and the thots out #and then it's like i low-key dissociate? derealization? w/e reality ends up looking n feelin weird n so do i #n it just spirals? or i end up doing something to ground myself ig i honestly don't remember #idk this is probably dumb but i honestly don't know what's going on but #god words feel weird now #gods there's so much overlap for so many different things my head is spinning #fuck!!! maybe it's because I'm high rn I don't know #birdy speaks

[lesbians-love-samwilson]

Non Binary Sam Headcanon

Non binary Sam

Sam is 27 and Bucky is 30. Age gaps are low key gross to me

Sam went to new York academy for arts on a full ride scholar ship

Bucky started his tech company at age 18 he was a certified genius and graduated college at 16

Sam up until he met Bucky struggled with paying his bills. Even before they moved in together Sam wouldn't accept help but Bucky was able to secretly deposits money in Sam account . When they find out Bucky did this they think its sweet and relief but is all "I'll try to pay you back," and Bucky all "Babe I've got you "

Sam come out was at age 18 three weeks before they left for college they only came out as bisexual they didn't realize they were non binary yet

Sam and Bucky have a dom/sub relationship and Sam is definitely a bratty sub

Sam realized they were non binary in college while dating misty knight who helped and supported them 

Sam didn't come out as non binary to his parents until he fully moved out of their home. Theirs dad was a preacher and scared that they might get rejected.  It took his parents time to fully accept but they did and tried their best to understand

Paul Wilson was one of those guys who like, once he gets it hes got a bumper sticker that says "I love my non-binary child" and does a sermon on God not making mistakes and loving your neighbor and stuff.  Like it's almost embarrassing how hard he goes to support his kid 

Sam suffers from anxiety disorder OCD and Depression he goes to therapy

Sam first art show was at age 24 and he was so nervous and freshly out the closet as non binary and they were feeling more of a she that day but they stuck with wearing a suit out of fear. And during the whole thing they felt overwhelmed and scared. They had to be taken home early by Misty and Sam had panic attack. (misty and Sam were broken up by then but still best friends) 

Riley was their highschool sweetheart who went into the military and they broke up amicably because Sam did NOT want to be a military spouse

 Sam still doesn't wear female presenting clothing to art shows even now that their confident in themselves they just can't risk not making a paycheck

Bucky helps Sam get their first queer based art gallery showing Sam cries tears of joy afterward because they finally can wear a pretty dress to an art show

Sam first ever   piece ever sold was a portrait of a black family sitting at the dinner table praying

  When bucky took Sam to a charity event with elite society. Sam wore a suit and didn't tell Bucky they were feeling more like a she. Sam didn't want to stick out in a mostly white crowd to much and didn't want people to judge bucky

Bucky had noticed Sam was acting strange and off all night and when Sam excused themselves to the bathroom and never came back Bucky went to find them only to find them crying in the bathroom having a panic attack and Bucky took them home 

  Sam told Bucky he just wanted to fit in and not cause to much of a stir and that he was sorry he couldn't fit in with high society. Bucky was all I don't care about your status in society I just wanted to bring you because I love you and wanted to do something with you. But if it makes you uncomfortable or make you suppress a part of yourself then we don't need to go (Also this would be their first I loves you) 

 Bucky loves Sam and will straight up reject high society if that means keeping Sam around him 

Sam has three collars for different moods. Their bratty collar has the word "whore," in diamond (yes the diamonds are real). Their second collar is for when she just soft and delicate it has the word "princess," in diamonds. The last one is plain black for anxiety attack purpose

Sam does have a praise kink and humiliation kink. Like if Bucky calls her a good girl while also calling them a dumb slut they could cum right there

They also have a whole room dedicated to their toys it's locked always and Bucky and Sam both have keys to it. The spare bedroom they "use for storage" and tell people "oh it's a mess in there so we keep it locked" 

they try not to use it if they have company spending the night but this one time when sam sister Sarah and her husband were staying over. Sam was being a brat and horny all day just sly slutty act. That Bucky just had to take them to their kink room and bend them over their spanking bench 

Bucky has and exhibition kink and they definitely fucked in Bucky office.  Bucky clearing his schedule so Sam can sit under his desk and warm his cock all day 

The way they fit into dom/sub relationship was during the fourth date when Sam called Bucky Sir. Then that morning they sat down and had a long convo about it.

Sam loves getting cock cage though because he drops a lot faster and Bucky will carry him around like a rag doll

Sam loves to wear butt plug and a skimpy skirt during their relaxing sundays and just bend over showing bucky up their skirt showing off their plug hole.

Credits for header: @glittercake​

@siancore​ @captainamericasamwilson​ @cap-is-bi​ @jemgirl86​ @renee561​ @sambambucky​ @samwilsonsundays​ @sambuckyslayallday​

#sam wilson sundays #sam wilson #sambucky #winterfalcon

[florenceandthemachine]

TUMBLR FUCKED UP SOME OF MY ASK POSTS I AM SO SORRY ANYWAY 

@buckleydiazs​ asked:

talk to me about eddie and chris asking buck to move in, pls and thank u 🥰

Their first unplanned night together starts off with a text message.

Ironically enough, it’s not even a message between Eddie and Buck—it’s between Buck and Maddie. Eddie is all smiles as he pulls his truck onto the highway, Buck in the passenger seat, laughing easily at some story Eddie was telling. It was nice. It was easy, easier than most of the relationships Eddie had ever had before, but that wasn’t surprising—at least, not anymore, not with Buck.

Once Buck had gotten the stick out of his ass, Eddie realized how easily the two of them would get along almost immediately. Buck was... well, he was a far better person than Eddie was, and Eddie would be the first to admit that, but Buck seemed to be oblivious to the fact that he could basically out shine the sun with one of his big toothy smiles.

Their relationship was unique, certainly; they had survived things that went beyond the real of “regular people”; tsunamis, earthquakes, bombs, and most stressful of all (weirdly enough), a lawsuit. somehow, the lawsuit was the straw that broke the back on their friendship—Eddie had finally pulled his head out of his ass, realized how miserable his life had been without Bucky, and asked him out on a proper date a week after Buck's first call back on the team.

Though they spent a lot of time together as friends, and that had only grown after their first official ‘date’, they had been carpooling out of necessity for the week—Bobby had been good enough to match their schedules up while Buck’s Jeep was in the shop—and Eddie insisted that it wasn’t too much of a detour to shuttle Buck back and forth to work.

The mood in the truck was easy and light, and Buck was still laughing when he pulled his phone from his pocket, tapping at the screen a few times—and like someone had switched on a vacuum, the good mood was sucked through the window in less than a second.

“It’s Maddie. She says Taylor Kelly is at my apartment complex. Apparently there was a pretty big drug bust in the building across the way, she has her van camped out in our lot.”

And, well, Eddie wasn’t about to tolerate that, wasn’t about to tolerate anything that made Buck unhappy, anything that could suck the joy out of him in an instant, for reasons that he chose not to dive too deep into. He focused instead on the problem (and yeah, Taylor Kelly was a problem with a capital B), and what he figured was the easiest solution.

“Oh. Well, then you’re staying at our place tonight.”

As expected, Buck started up a whole litany of protests. It was a little sad, Eddie thought, how eager Buck was to talk himself out of a good time, and if he didn’t have the backup of a year of knowing Buck as well as he did, Eddie might have actually taken his ramblings at face value.

As it was, though, he had an ace in the hole. A surefire way to get Buck to shut up and accept some good in his life. He didn’t like to play it, but he knew that he had to as soon as Buck mentioned “I’ll just stay at the firehouse tonight, it’s really no issue, I’ll order take out, and—”

“Buck, it’s fine. Chris has been begging me to invite 'his Buck’ over for dinner for a week now anyway.”

“...oh. Okay.”

Was it wrong for Eddie to use his son so easily, knowing that Buck was as wrapped around Chris’ finger to the degree that nearly rivaled himself? Probably. Could Eddie bring himself to care? Nope.

Especially not when Chris basically launched himself into Bucks arms, completely overjoyed that Buck was here for a “surprise sleepover”. 

Dinner had gone off without a hitch, with Chris easily dominating most of the conversation, rattling off facts, figures, stories from school, information about his friends, and Buck had eaten it up. 

Eddie had found himself staring at Buck—more than once—with a little bit of a dopey look on his face, he was sure, as Buck got more and more animated, making Christopher laugh, telling stories of his own, and he hadn’t even bothered to look away when Buck caught him staring.

Buck was a blusher. Eddie loved it.

Now, though, Chris had disappeared to brush his teeth and put on his pajamas, and Eddie and Buck were working in companionable quiet as they started to clean the table.

"You know, if Taylor being at my apartment means I get to spend the evening with my two favorite guys...” Buck said with a smile, closing the fridge as he leaned against it, keeping an ear out for Chris as he turned the faucet in the bathroom on. “...I’ll have to invite her over next time.”

Eddie shrugged, gesturing vaguely with a spoon, though he couldn’t keep the smile off of his face as he rose a brow. “Buck, you know you don’t need excuses, right? You’re allowed to like this. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I am as wrapped around your finger as you are Chris’s.”

Buck was blushing again, and that was all the encouragement Eddie needed to step forward, his arms wrapping around Buck as Buck started to speak again. “You... you know the feeling is mutual, right?” he asked, and Eddie felt himself light up. “And I... don’t really want to wait for a next time to spend some time with you either.”

Buck wasn’t sure which God was on his side, but either way, he was immensely thankful that Chris didn’t barge in until long after Eddie and Buck had separated, even if they were still breathing a little heavily.

--

The next unexpected visit, it turns out, was only four weeks and three planned dates later. 

Buck had had many a sleepless night after the tsunami, but after the lawsuit, his nightmares had become even worse, more intense, more real. There were nights where he had to tell himself, ten times, that Chris was okay, that he was alive, and then there were nights like tonight, where he let the fear outweigh the guilt and he called Eddie.

(It was probably telling that he was never afraid of his own death—only Chris’. If he had a therapist, he would probably bring that up, but... well, therapy had never been a great idea for Buck before.)

To his credit, Eddie hadn’t let it ring even twice before picking up. 

“Buck, Chris is okay. He’s okay. You saved him, Buck, and I can never thank you enough for that.”

“Ed—he was right there, and I lost him, and I—”

“He is okay. Buck, seriously, he’s okay. Here, you should come over. See for yourself?”

“What? No.” Buck may have been coming out of a nightmare, but even then, he knew not to risk disturbing Eddie more than he absolutely had to.

“Buck, whatever thoughts are swirling around in that head, you better, get your admittedly very attractive ass over here right now.”

...well, he couldn’t argue with that. 

Eddie could feel his heart break when he opened the door, though, and got an armful of puffy eyed, apologetic Buck in response. They quietly made their way over to Chris’ room and then to Eddies own, where he made no short work of Buck’s apologies, kissing him soundless every time he tried.

At the end of the night, Buck wasn’t sure what had helped him sleep better—seeing Chris alive and well, or spending his night in Eddie’s arms, wrapped up tight enough that he couldn’t break free even if he tried.

Not that he would.

--

“Hi Buck!”

“Hi Christopher!” 

Buck was all smiles as he swooped in to scoop Christopher into a big bear hug, leaning over to kiss Eddie’s cheek as he let Chris back down to the ground and they started walking back to the car. “How was school, buddy?” He asked, easily going into idle listening mode as Eddie’s hand slipped into his. It was an early release day for Christopher, and he had all but demanded that they spent the afternoon hanging out together—and it was moments like these that reminded Buck about how lucky he was, swinging his hand in Eddie’s like a teenager as they walked back to the car, Chris eagerly leading the way.

Honestly, if anything, the fact that a date night for Buck was now spending a night at the museum with his boyfriend and his kid (instead of in a club, or at a bar, or doing something he probably wouldn’t remember the next day) really was a testament to his own personal growth. No drinking, no drugs, no questionable sex with questionable people in questionable locations—just a nerdy firefighter and his kid.

Dinner consisted of hot dogs and pretzels and soda, and somehow Chris was outpacing them on energy as they wandered through the exhibits. Buck never quit being amazed at just how much Chris knew—hell, Buck was an adult and he still didn’t know the difference between a Monet painting and a Manet painting—but Chris was like the little brainiac Energizer bunny, his energy only weaning after they got home and demanded Buck read him two whole stories for bedtime, and Buck was feeling selfish enough to allow himself a few moments with Chris, sleeping on his shoulder, before he tucked the boy in for the night. 

“I’m gonna get going.”

“You don’t have to, you know?”

Eddie kept his voice low as Buck slid Chris’ door shut, his arms finding their way around Buck’s waist on autopilot, easily masking the twinge of annoyance he felt when Buck had the audacity to look surprised.

“What do you mean?”

If he ever met that Abby chick, he was going to give her a piece of his mind. 

“I mean you don’t have to leave. You can stay, sweetheart. I… well, I want you to stay, but I always want you to stay, so I’m a little biased. But you can stay as long as you want, whenever you want.” 

It was better, he hoped, to be direct, because Buck obviously didn’t get the hint after so many subtle cues. Hell, Eddie had given him a key after their third official date, and all Buck had commented was how glad he was to have it, in case of emergencies. Unfortunately, the fact that Buck seemed dumber then a box of rocks didn’t seem to count as an emergency. 

His argument seemed to be well received tonight, at least, because Buck smiled shyly as he looked up to Eddie, his own arms sliding around the other males shoulders. 

“You’re sure I won’t bother you and Chris, right? You really want me to stay tonight?”

“Of course I do.” Eddie said. For the rest of your life, he managed to keep inside. 

--

“Buck, you know you’re always welcome here, right?”

“Yes, Eddie.”

“And you know we love having you here, and we generally hate it when you leave.”

“I get it, Eddie.”

“So you know—“

“Eddie, will you please let me in?”

If Buck wasn’t soaked head to toe, standing on Eddie’s doorstep, he’d probably start to think that the universe was playing a cruel joke on the both of them. It was certainly playing a cruel joke on Eddie, to be honest—they had finished a particularly grueling overnight shift just three hours ago, and he had all but begged Buck to come and get some rest at the house while Christopher was out with Carla that day, and Buck had politely but firmly refused, not wanting to trample on any of the time that he got to take for himself. It was driving Eddie crazy, to be honest—he had really thought that they had made progress on that front, that they had finally gotten to the point where Buck didn’t think he was intruding, or interrupting, or distracting, or whatever. He really had thought he had made his stance clear—that he always loved spending time with Buck, period. 

Well, he was certainly never one to back down from a challenge. 

“What even happened, Buck?”

“The pipe burst in the apartment above me. I got soaked through in the middle of a nap.” 

“Oh, Buck.”

“It’s not funny, Eddie! I was trying to be considerate!”

“Baby, I’m not laughing. I’m just very distracted by how good you look soaking wet.”

“Eddie, I swear to god—“

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

“….oh. Oh!”

--

“I meant what I said, you know?”

“Hmm?”

They had gotten down to the lazy, delighted moments of the evening, standing together in the shower, Buck slotted easily into Eddies arms. They were taking advantage of the last twenty minutes they had together before Chris came home, and needless to say, neither of them were exactly jumping at the idea of wearing pants again.

“We love having you here, Chris and I. And we really do hate it when you leave because you think that you have to, or you think that you’re intruding, or you think… well, whatever else that you’re thinking.”

“Eddie…”

Buck turned in his arms, pushing his wet hair back, but Eddie smothered any chance of a self depreciating comment by pressing their lips together. He didn’t pull back until he knew Buck would be breathless, panting, and dazed, and it probably wasn’t fair to fight that way, but Eddie couldn’t handle another comment about how much of a bother Buck perceived himself.

“You’re home to me, Buck. Chris too. He loves you and he looks up to you, and you drive me crazy thinking that you could be anything but welcome in our lives. Buck, I want you to move in with us. Stay. Forever.”

There was a time and a place where Buck’s self doubt would have run rampant faced with a confession like that—hell, Buck 1.0 wouldn’t even have allowed a relationship to get that far—but somehow, looking up at Eddie, nothing could be more perfect. 

“You’re home to me too, Eddie.” He started, softly, a smile on his face. “And if you and Chris really wouldn’t mind—“

“It’s not just that we wouldn’t mind, though. It’s what we want. We want you to live with us, sweetheart.”

“… well, I’ve never been good at denying anything my Diaz boys want, have I?”

--

(Over dinner, Buck had nervously approached the topic with Chris, because no matter how sure Eddie was, Buck had to hear it for himself. 

Chris got so excited he almost threw up. 

Eddie considered everything about that night as a win—but the best part of all was the price, Buck, beautiful Buck, waiting for him in his—no, in their bed.)

#buddie #911 #flospeaks #edmundo diaz #evan buckley #christopher diaz #911onfox #fic prompt #soft fics #found family #I love them both so much #buddiefic #mutually assured devotion

[clandestine-j]

Gossip Girl Reboot, Ep. 2 Reaction / Review

This was posted on reddit first, crossing posting it here since I’ve chosen to review the ep’s and post on tumblr as well. So, this post is geared more towards reddit as a whole, this was posted a day after ep 2 aired.

i don't have a favorite character rating but #teamaki, yeah, the acting is awkward but it's getting better and it's not like it's the only bad acting in the show. i like the character either way.

now

people are so extra with zoya and obie and are looking at julien with the rose colored classes. yeah, obie shouldn't be dating zoya but let's not act like julien gave her all and everything to him. from the conversation with zoya in ep 1, his general feelings, audrey calls it out (maybe because she always feels that way)

She admits it at the end, she wouldn’t do the things he wanted when it came to his interest, he’d want to do random and fun things and she’d blow him off...how is this mart of someone fully invested in their other, no, she was invested what he did for her and how he made her feel. She misses him because in their other breaks he’d always come back. We saw a dying relationship and ppl can assume a lot about him but make 0 assumptions when it comes to her.

And then y’all expect Zoya to turn down the one person who’s actually nice, doesn’t ice her out and shares interest? What I want more than anything is for Zoya to find her own friends & her romantic interest, just one episode where her life isn’t an extension of Julien's. Idk wut, maybe she can go off on a find out gossip girl adventure. Idk something.

Then this talk about sisters and sister hood. Yeah, they’re blood related but what sisterhood is there? You say that’s is wrong for Zoya to do that to her sister but what about what her sister did to her? Even in this ep, she wants Obie so instead of idk driving Zoya away from him, she attacks her lil ‘sis’ over her long time boyfriend. She continues to let her friends talk bad about the girl. We can talk sister hood when she gives the mean team a good “learn me or leave me” when it comes to Zoya

At the of ep 1 Zoya says, she’s not playing the game. She’s grounded in fear of losing her scholarship, has already lost her dads trust. So she does that, she keeps her head down and doesn’t bother anyone but it’s the mean team to prompt Julien to after Zoya and she does. She’s minding her business at the even and Julien is the one to storm over and cause a scene. And it’s all about her, she’s scared of her dad finding out without any care that Zoya has lost and what she has left to lose. Of course she doesn’t care about Julien personal problems? When did Julien care really about hers? Then, she wants to sneak away and have fun and because she’s mad Zoya won’t run off and hide like a hood little girl, she once again collabs with GG, brings in the dads and fucks her sisters life up, AGAIN. Yeah, she changed her mind at the end but too little too late. Her come to jesus moment was great but the relationship she wanted/wants it very much damaged.

So yeah, Zoya dating the one person who has empathy for her is not as bad as the older sister who consistently let her be talked down, about and two, plotted with GG and didn’t even ask her if she was okay because, she didn’t mean it, it’ll blow over. Even in the very last apology when Zoya was about to leave, you could see that she had 0 faith in Julien, not only as a sister but as a person.

Which leads me to saying that Julien is probs the most interesting character of the show. She’s lovable and flawed and she is good but she as of right now, she’s mean at worst and horribly complicit at best because right now her career is a bit more important but her 14 year old sister doesn’t deserve the headache of navigating her with her. But I do love Julien because she has layers and I think by the end, she’ll be able to have her influencer career without compromising herself. That does lead us to the the chairmen and co-chair of the mean team.

Monet and Luna weren’t around as much but I do think...I do think...that if Julien goes nice, they’re gonna go super nasty. They have access to her life which mean access to that video if Julien didn’t out right delete it or they find out about it and snooping. They’re her friends but unlike her, they don’t have a much of a Conscious so far of right and wrong and they’ll strike anyone down. I think if we have wild cards, they’re it. If Julien really does go down a new path, learns more to fight for what matters and understand the real her is just as likable, the mean duo will not accept and will try and bring her down. They have their own meaning of friends with benefits.

My dude Obie, I can’t say much. I don’t think he’s as Malicious as y’all make him out to be but he is a bit callous and naïve...which could be worse tbh. I think he does want to do good but he only knows Performative good to counter-act his parents. I do want him to get with someone else but I do hope he learns what true activism means through Zoya and understand how much of a difference he could make if he really put his mind to it. I also want him to learn get out quick, because he wasn’t just looking for a reason to end things but one to stay and Julien didn’t give him that.

Audrey, I like the stuff with her mom. I like the little bit more depth we got, she slept with Max maybe but Aki made out with him, who am I to judge? I hope her mon can step up in the future but I don’t think it’ll be easy and hopefully they explore it more. Not just tease us. Her mom needs therapy but I think I'm a bit invested in her too.

Max, I love max but the dude is Pretentious ~ above earthly love ~ low key a shitty friend and talks in metaphors whenever he has the chance BUT he does it well. I don’t see him with Aki but I want it! I do see him going harder after Audrey but I think he was a bit shocked for all his flirting that he was into the kids with Aki. I think he lives to play with people. I don't know if he really likes Audrey but he does want to bang her, a lot, a lot a lot. I don't think he really wanted to sleep with Aki but he did like playing with him and he could pick up the fact that Aki might be feeling him. I don't think the interest was really, real until Aki kissed him at the pool, home boy was shocked and was like oooo maybe something is there but his focus is on the teacher. And I also think the not in a million years thing had his gears turning too. You tell him it can't or won't happen and now he wants to make it happen.

Aki, my baby, my voice of reason. What makes him great as a person, makes him not great for Audrey when it comes to emotional stuff. He means well and I get where he's coming from with wanting Audrey to understand her mom but she did need a partner. The thing she loves about him is the thing that makes it hard. I don't know how Aki was brought up but I feel like this plays into it, she's always comparing him to a therapist. I wonder if his parents a bit more emotionally cold or curt or just very analytical people. But, like he's been lovely since ep one, the only one of the group to sort of defend Zoya or Julien wanting to know her / keep her secret. (What secrets does he have?) And in ep 2, he really was like 'ya'll fucked in the head' to the mean team. I know some consider him boring because he doesn't speak up often but when he does speak up, he got something to say. I want the show to use him in a way to stir drama just by being friends, his character doesn't have to have a dramatic effect and he could get his own little subplot that's tied into the show but like, my can't become some douche. (If he does, only for a bit.) Now, I don't see Max being endgame for him AT ALL. If it's between the two, Max would go for Audrey for sure while leading my boi on in ways, he could even really start to like him but endgame no. I'd love to see a scene with Max does get jealous of Aki with another dude, in a romantic way or the dude could be hitting on him, I think Aki would be able to humble him just a bit because no one really seems to know what he's thinking. In the end, idk who he ends up with but I want him to find someone who will do my dude right and he should get some non-shitty friends who'll listen to his problems. (Still not over that Max)

The teachers while being shown more, don't have much of a presence. It's mainly Kate and the goofy one for extended scenes. KATE MY GOOD SIS. NO. Please, I want this to be the point where she loses GG somehow and someone takes over or maybe another GG pops up, can market better and isn't willing to have a faltering moments. I want it to spiral. Spiral hard. Also, sexy teach said not on my watch ezra! I stan him. Teachers are still fun for me, they make me want to never teach at a dumb rich private school.

Also, fuck the dads within reason. Esp, Julien's dad but only because we got to see Zoya's more and he is kinda in the right about most of the stuff but not the sister stuff. You can tell he's doing his best to instill morals in his daughter esp when he knows she can fall to outside influences.

Overall, I'm still enjoying it, I'm invested. I see room for growth for all of the characters (maybe not the teachers) and I want to see it play out. It does feel a little rushed but I think they're finding their footing and they have some big things to pull. But's not horrible and if they just play the drama bit longer and then conclude, it wouldn't feel that way. Maybe one more episode or half an episode could've been added to the Zoya-Obie-Julien story line to fully flush it out but I like the ending. Not sisters, not friends but cool with each and possibly re-build, at worst they just don't interact. I noticed some cool things with the promos but I need to confirm when I can find the one for 3.

Sorry if it went from all lower case to proper-ish, I had to switch to my phone and it auto-does it.

#c;gg #gossip girl reboot #gossip girl hbo

[spookymultimedia]

ITS MY BLOG AND I GET TO INFODUMP ABOUT MY CHARACTERS >:D

Disability and gender experience

CW for ptsd, panic attacks, su*c*de [I will talk about at the end if you still want to read this and will add another warning] , gender dysphoria, mild transpobia and abelism both internal and external

Disability

Lyla has osteoarthritis that is due to Burns' pretty fucky genes. She found this out when one evening they literally couldn't get out of bed for anything due to intense pain in the knees. Waylon had to come and get them and when he got there Lyla was pretty much on the brink of tears. Lyla then got a diagnosis. At first she was frustrated because it changed everything about his daily life. He was prescribed pain medication that dulls the pain to a manageable degree and was recommended to use a cane to get around during mild flare ups. It initially upset her. He thought she was too young to be going through something like that and hated having to limit how much they work. They later realized that stigma was ableist and bullshit and eventually sucked it up and decided to just embrace his new way of life and let her Grandfather help him learn how to cope due to experience with chronic pain [which means its lifelong] . On some days they get around just fine with pain meds but on bad flare up days they have to use a cane or chair to get around. She eventually mastered working with the aids and can even pop a sick wheelie on his chair. The pain still gets to them and it really sucks but he does swallow his pride and allow themselves to rest and be supported by others.

Sometimes with her partner Ashley he'll get snuggled and taken care of by her. Lyla is pretty dang light like his grandfather and Ashley has no problem carrying him around. Lyla secretly loves being carried. He's pretty fucking privileged to have Mr.Burns allow her disability support. Lyla is very privileged. Sometimes they like to make his cane/chair look cool with spray paint and whatnot. Very cripplepunk. Lyla probably found a disabled community of people his age to help her feel less alone.

Abbey has undiagnosed innatentive type adhd and ptsd that she gets full on panic attacks from. Neurodiversity was something taboo and not talked about in her childhood and didn't even realize she was struggling more than she should be. As a child she struggled paying attention to long boring sermons/lectures and was shamed alot for it. She didn't understand how she occasionally made people uncomfortable with very weird and unconventional topics she talks about. Loud sudden stimuli and intense buzzing overwhelms her and can make her cry. She didn't do very well in school and barely graduated high school. She prefered watching her favorite movies and playing dolls with her sister over studying. She's extremely sensitive to fabric and only has certain types of blankets and clothes that she can stand. She absolutely hates the feeling of fabric draping against her legs too much so sometimes she either wears tight-ish pants and avoids skirts/dresses. She hates sitting and walking in dresses. She never wanted to wear them lol they feel bad to her. She refuses to sit up straight and will cross her legs. Abbey hyperfixates on animation, cinema, and dollhouses. She likes binging movies and making doll projects. She tends to bond with people through movies and model making. She struggled to make friends outside of her circle and just stayed friends with people she grew up with at her church. They all escaped that mormon hell. Abbey struggles with her emotions and usually gets overwhelmed too much which can often leave her drained and tired. She has an intense oral fixation and uses stim necklaces to chew on, before she would chew on her sleeves, pen caps, pens, her hair, her shirt, her sleeves, bottle caps, ect. She was a very curious kid and tried to eat playdough, dirt and grass lol. None of them where good. She is decent at working at the video store and feels happy with her job being related to her interests. Because hrt therapy is so expensive she doesn't feel she can afford any kind of therapy or medication and it's very overwhelming for her to have to prioritize one aspect of her health over another. But with financial support from close friends and her boyfriend Tim she gets by ok.

Gender

Lyla assumed that it was completely normal to have a fuzzy fluid gender due to believing gender is a lose concept for most people. He didn't realize most people have static genders that don't change at all. It wasn't something they never questioned. Later in Lyla's 20s they started to learn more on gender and realized she wasn't as cis as he thought they where. The term genderfluid fit his experiences perfectly. They never felt still in their gender. Even if they felt more towards one gender over another it wasn't a firm feeling. It felt fluid and lose. As a teen they dressed in goth fashion and was a self proclaimed tomboy. But they realized tomboys or most gnc women didn't dress up very feminine on somedays or even wear dresses. She loves wearing dresses and she loves wearing lose jeans and a lose men's tee.

Lyla's gender tends to shift weekly but it may present or change depending on who they're with or what media/environment they're exposed too. For example he might feel more feminine with certain friends and more masculine with strangers. Sometimes they feel more comfortable being agender or a nonbinary genders with certain people such as their partner. Sometimes they only use certain pronouns with certain people. He/she/they at work, she/he with parents, she/he/they/it with siblings, she/he with some friends, and she/he/moths/rots, rats, its with their partner. Lyla will either tell people upfront on pronouns for the week or use a pin.

Most of the time clothes don't dictate their gender that week but there are some key differences. Lyla will not wear dresses on more masculine days and may draw on facial hair with a mascara brush. On more feminine days they dress more like a nature witch and loves floral stuff. They are more likely to have fun with makeup on those days.

Lyla doesn't want to undergo any kind of surgery or hormone therapy. Lyla may bind a bit with a sports bra but doesn't really feel uncomfortable with his chest and mostly doesn't mind having visibile tits on masc days.

Abbey always felt different from her birth sex and felt very frustrated learning she wouldn't just naturally grow into the chest and genitals she wants growing up. It was an extremely taboo and forbidden subject but despite that something inside her soul knew she was a girl. Her parents pushed very strict gender roles on her growing up and causes her to struggle with her femininity as an infertile woman who could not stand dresses. It made her feel a bit lost but she later felt better knowing other women cis and trans who don't conform to gender roles.

Abbey gets intense physical dysphoria from her crotch and for a long time she had to just deal with it until surgery was an option. Some days she could tolerate it but some days [especially when she got on estrogen and felt very hormonal] it was unbearable and a wet dream or boner would trigger a depressive episode that consists of cacooning a cover, watching her favorite movies and long naps. It was a toll on her mental health that was already pretty bad. But emotional support, understanding and patience from her friends and boyfriend helped her carry on though it. She eventually does get bottom surgery and it's a HUGE weight off her chest.

Abbey usually dresses in sweatshirts, graphic tees and cute jeans. Whatever's comfortable on the skin. She wore tank tops more when her tits grew in. And they grew in pretty dang fast and big and ah it hurt. She's a c cup which she loves but God they where tender for awhile. Double puberty isn't fun. Her transition was a bit rough and long being low middle class but she pulled through.

TW for su*cide. Leave the post now if this triggers you.

Abbey is a suicide attempt survivor. She suffers ptsd from her own husband taking his life leaving her a widow. She felt trapped and tired in her unbalanced emotions and uncertainty of ever feeling okay or getting the medical attention she needed and attempted to OD. Fortunately she was with Timothy who immediately called an ambulance. She was very tired and at first a bit disappointed she was still alive but also a bit relieved. She then had to cope with feeling suicidal.

#the simpsons #the simpsons oc #trans oc #nonbinary oc #nonbinary #trans