my therapist: how are you feeling in the wake of your (autism spectrum disorder) diagnosis?
me: well it makes sense doesn’t it? i was the one who requested testing. like on some level i kind of figured.
my therapist: yes, i’m personally glad we pursued it because it helps me better understand parts of your behavior and how to accommodate you. but how do you feel about it? you said before that you were in heavy denial about the possibility when you were younger.
me: well yeah, i had a preconceived idea of what autism was that i know now wasn’t true. but at the time it was distressing and i didn’t want to think about it too hard.
my therapist: how was it different then? what was your idea of autism then?
me: it was, you know, severe developmental delay. i never thought i had developed abnormally at all, so to try and match up the severity i associated with autism and the way i viewed myself, i just couldn’t.
my therapist: but you did.
me: sorry?
my therapist: you did develop abnormally. both socially and academically.
me: socially yes, but i had no problems with academics. i always especially excelled at reading comprehension, more so than anyone else in my grade. i started lagging in high school but i think that was a lot of burnout and depression and ptsd, probably. i was incredibly smart. hell, i spoke in full sentences earlier than most of my peers.
my therapist: violette, that’s still abnormal development.
me: …huh?
my therapist: developing abnormally fast is still developing abnormally.
me:
me: oh.
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yesterday while feverish i wrote about how boats can moor next to each other like pigeons, cooing with the gentle rap of water against their hull. you once said that that the way i see things - birds in the water, feathers in marina paint - was "childish and naive." you said i'd been misdiagnosed - "it can't all be adhd. you might be just kind of stupid and lazy."
i still do certain things like how you taught me - turn the pillow case inside out before putting it on. drive defensively. hate myself entirely.
the prompt for this poem is "mahler's fifth." i wish it wasn't, but mahler's fifth was our song. it ended up in my book. every person that knows your name has promised me they'll give you one swift rabbit punch, right to the face. dean read the book and showed up on my front porch, drenched in sweat from running the 8 miles at 4 in the morning. he was shaking. pacifist and gentle - he works with children - i'd never seen him furious. a punch isn't going to do it, he said, and then said i'm sorry. i had to come to see if you were okay.
mahler's fifth was mine first, like my girlhood. i like the way each movement piles onto the next movement, each instrument bleeding into the next. i like the horn version the best. before i met you, i danced to it on grass still-wet from sprinklers.
later you would tell me that the way you heard it was somehow better. you understood something in it that i couldn't quite wrap my fingers into. once, on our anniversary, you asked the classical music radio station to play it for us. we missed hearing it because we were fighting. one of the things people get wrong about abuse is that sometimes victims are, like, brutally aware of the stupidity of our situation. what do you mean that you thought i wasn't good enough for you? you? you're just... nothing.
sometimes people can pull the poetry out of your life. i watched my words become clothesline, and then thin out into kite twine. i watched you chew through every good syllable of me. so many good songs and places and moments were ruined. i am glad you didn't like most of my music - less to tie back to you.
but still mahler's fifth. the music swells, and i am 21 and throwing up in a bathroom on my birthday. a woman i will later refer to as lesbian jesus runs a cool hand down my back, her perfect pantsuit starch-pressed. she told me to leave you. she said - and this is true, and not an invention of rhyme or fantasy - i'm you from the future.
i am 22, and i got home from an award ceremony, and i remember you telling me - you act so proud of yourself when you're actually so fucking embarrassing. i took you to disney world. you took my virginity. i gave up visiting spain for a week with my family - i instead choose you, to spend the time just-cuddling. you called it "our fuck week." the music swells. it probably should have been a red flag that for about 3 years - i just gave up on crying. my grandfather died and you said nothing. my uncle died and you ghosted me for 3 weeks. you said i need to protect myself from your ongoing tragedy.
every so often i come back to the memory of one of our last afternoons in person. i had just told you that i wasn't going to law school, despite the free ride - i was going to join a creative writing program. master's in fine arts. i was going to finally do it - i was going to follow my dreams. this blog was already internet-famous. however reluctantly, i would occasionally refer to myself as a poet. i got into umass amherst's writing program for fiction authors. it is one of the the top 5 programs in the country.
wait are you seriously considering actually attending that? dumbfounded, you turned completely towards me in your seat. for the 3rd time in our relationship, you almost crashed the car. you actually want to be a writer?
the first time i went viral, it was for a poem i wrote about you:
he wants to say i love you
but keeps it to goodnight
because love will take some falling
and she's afraid of heights.
every time i see that, i want to throw up. you weren't in love with me, you were in love with the control you had over me. a little truth though: i am afraid of heights. you caught a rabbitgirl and skinned her alive.
mahler's fifth still makes me sick.
give me that back. give me back music. give me back everything i had before you. give me back fearlessness. give me back bravery. give me back a scarless body.
give me back what you took from me.
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pure fluff, fem reader, not proofread, katsuki really likes the way you smell, talks of marriage, katsuki being an absolute demon, biting bc is it rlly a cash fic if it doesn’t involve katsuki biting us ? lemme know if i missed sum else <3
a.n.: ..so this came to me in the middle of the night and i had to write it down before i forgot about it…please do not perceive me🫶🏾
katsuki keeps sniffing at your wrist.
for some reason, he keeps bringing your palm towards his face and you imagined he’d kiss it if he was feeling a little sweeter than usual or he’d bite your finger if he was feeling like a little shit.
imagine your surprise when instead, he just sniffs you and goes right back to watching tv.
he does it for the fifth time in the span of a few seconds and you turn your head that was smooshed into his chest staring at the tv to stare at him with a brow raised.
“katsuki.” he only grunts in response, nose pressed to your pulse point. a deep, grumbled noise comes from the deepest part of his chest when you try to pull your arm out of his grip.
“quit squirmin’. ”
“katsuki !” you squeal, giggling. katsuki grunts into your skin, pulling your hand closer to his face.
“what’re you doing ?” you chirp.
“ya smell like somethin’” is all he offers you for a response, your lip pulls up in confusion. you tilt your head.
“like what ?”
“i dunno, s’like—” he cuts himself off, pulls your hand away from his face to stare up at the ceiling in thought, only to bring it back to his nose.
you can’t help laughing at his behavior “ like what ?” you urge.
“different.” he settles “this some new perfume or somethin’ ?” he asks seriously, lifting himself up so he can sit up against the couch cushion and you follow, no longer laying but sitting up in his lap.
“not really, it’s this new body wash i found at the mall !” katsuki grunts in acknowledgment “was walking around with a friend and she recommended it to me, so i figured i’d give it a shot.” you explain.
“smells good right ?” you ask excitedly. katsuki damn near growls at your wrist, then he drops it and stuffs his head into your shoulder, wrapping his arms around you tightly like he’s trying to squeeze you to death, pulling you closer to him.
“so fuckin’ good.” he rumbles, the way his voice deepens has shivers going down your spine and has you impossibly giddy.
“what soap is that ? need ta stock up on it.”
you roll your eyes “so you can steal it from me ? no thank you.”
“m’ your boyfriend, you’re s’posed to share with me. what’s that saying? what’s yours is mine and what’s mine is yours ?” his voice is smushed against the fabric of your clothes because he can’t stay away from your skin for more than three seconds, going back for whiffs like an addict. you wrap your arms around him with a snort.
“isn’t that saying usually for married couples ? we’re not married.”
“yet.”
your heartbeat quickens and you feel your skin prickle and go hot at how casually he uttered the word. you play around with the hairs on his nape.
“..yet” you utter quietly. his nose is pressed against your addams apple, deeming it his new favorite spot to sniff at you like a dog. “so until then, my secret stays with me.”
“tch, stingy woman.” he scoffs “might have to marry you sooner than i thought.” he smirks.
you move to shove your head into his shoulder in embarrassment and he straight up laughs, the asshole. you’d be angry if you weren’t as in love with him as you were in this very moment.
“oi, i told you to quit squirming.” he jests.
“katsukiii !” you whine. he only chuckles, greatly enjoying the way he’s tormenting you.
“what ?” he snorts, his nose is pressed to your shoulder “don’t act brand new, you knew i was gonna marry you.”
“this is bullying.” he barks out a loud laugh at your flustered response.
“me puttin’ a ring on that fuckin—” he grabs your hand again and presses his lips to your ring finger “divine smellin’ finger of yours is bullying ?” he chuckles.
“you’re so weird.” you can’t help the smile that grows against his shoulder and he feels it too, the smirk against your finger only grows.
“right back atcha.” he snickers, then bites into your shoulder like he’s trying to take a chunk out of you.
“ouch ! katsuki !” you yelp, smacking his back lightly, all he does is snicker like the evil motherfucker he is.
“sorry, baby.” he apologizes but you can hear in the teasing lilt in his voice he regrets absolutely nothing “ ya smell so good i couldn’t help it.”
a.n. : i actually don’t know if that saying is usually for married couples but pls ignore it for plot sake thx 🤞🏽💓
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Terence mayhaps
What if Terence D'Arby was in the Jojolands
Who do you guys think each of them would main in mario kart (my headcanons under the cut)
Jodio - Shy Guy (specifically the dark blue version)
Lowkey a pro at this game. Likes to challenge himself in time trials and knows all the best cart combinations. If there is a shortcut on the track, he WILL take it (and will almost always be successful). Actually enjoys Rainbow Road (the real reason for his psychopath diagnosis).
Dragona - Pink Gold Peach (I could see them picking Daisy too)
Just there to have a good time tbh. At least most of the time, because every now and then when they're doing particularly well their competitive streak kicks in, and trust me – once they get into it, they get REALLY into it (cross them at your own risk). Favorite track is Cheep Cheep Beach.
Paco - Bowser
He thinks gaming is dumb and a waste of time (definitely not because he sucks at it). On the rare occasion he does get convinced to play, he keeps bumping into walls and other players (it doesn't help that he picks one of the heaviest characters in the game). Known for notoriously running into banana peels. Gaming sessions usually end in him "inviting" the other players to the gym.
Usagi - Luigi
Relates to Luigi on a personal level for being the underappreciated helper of the group. He's actually quite good at the game. His aim is freakishly accurate and he loves to hoard items to target other players (for unknown reasons they seem to hit everyone but Dragona). Similarly to Jodio, he takes shortcuts almost every chance he gets, but unlike Jodio, it doesn't always go so well. Also probably likes Baby Park like the freak he is.
Charmingman - Dry Bones
Used to play with Mauka a lot, so he's surprisingly good, and can get quite competitive too. Drives solely on bikes, which give him some good ol' maneuverabilty to avoid all those damn banana peels Usagi keeps throwing around. Secretly loves the music tracks and sometimes listens to them while riding his bike irl, imagining himself to be in a race. Favorite item is Boo.
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