#and that explains why i've been overstimulated more than usual lately. and why everything feels like too much.

[sciderman]

I swear I have read your big post regarding Peter Parker's neurodivergence and why it is best to avoid labelling him, but he definitely has a weird brain

Can't find it and feel kinda sad about it cuz I deeply related to it

i know exactly which post you're talking about and i can't find it either! i've raked through my archive, and it's just - nowhere to be seen. i think tumblr eated it (it happens.)

really, tumblr's search functionality is so so useless, i don't know what to tell you. there are plenty of keywords i can search to find it that post, but the search functionality actually just does not work!

undiagnosed audhd-addled peter parker, my darling, my light, my life, my everything.

i think peter parker's such an interesting creature to write, because a lot of people will point to a certain behaviour about him and say "this is an autistic thing, right?" but a lot of those behaviours are actually, in my head, tied to certain traumas in peter's life too.

people say "oh, the food thing, peter's a picky eater because he's autistic" and yes, absolutely. but also it's tied to his trauma with his parents.

peter gets overstimulated, and yes, it's an autism thing, but also he was bitten by a radioactive spider and his senses are dialled to 11.

it's a similar case i've found for myself, too – where a lot of friends i have kind of diagnose me because i have autistic traits, but actually - i'm hesitant to claim the label or pursue diagnosis because, actually, i know where these certain behaviours come from, and they come from certain traumas. there are events i can pinpoint in my life and say "yep. that's where this behaviour comes from."

so - i think there's a lot of overlap between trauma and autistic traits. the brain is very complex! i think the reason for that overlap is maybe as simple as the fact that people with autism and people with trauma are both doing the same thing - developing behaviours to protect themselves or soothe themselves. so - i think it's nice to be able to see a character like peter parker, who may or may not be autistic, but recognise behaviours in him and see yourself in him.

people who go undiagnosed for whatever reason - people who are really good at masking - so good, in fact, that they have no idea they might be on the spectrum - everyone and anyone at all can look at peter parker and recognise themselves. because i think we discredit the thought that every single brain does the same thing! develops certain behaviours in order to survive. every brain has that same software - we've just all been faced with different hardships that we need to overcome, and that's were all the differences come in.

autism is a spectrum, i guess - everyone falls into it to some degree. and i think events in your life probably push you along on it. but i don't know, i didn't study brain science. probably what i'm saying is very stupid and uninformed. of course there's brain chemistry involved. but i know people in my life living with autism and certain events in their life have exacerbated certain behaviours or made coping with it a lot more difficult. so maybe trauma is a catalyst.

#a lot of my traits have been exacerbated lately and i remember it was much easier for me before #and some of my friends have said “oh it's because you've been masking too long and now you're facing autistic burnout.” #and that made sense to me i think. #but then i found out about the stress thing. me overproducing stress hormone. and that's a very physical thing. #and that explains why i've been overstimulated more than usual lately. and why everything feels like too much. #and i wonder how many of these traits of mine are going to subside once i have lamar removed #and it makes me wonder a lot of things. and it's so weird how much your brain is tied to your biology. #i wonder how much i'll change. i wonder how i'll feel. i wonder if i'll still feel like me. i wonder how much me is me right now. #and how much of me is being altered by weird freaky hormones. who am i?? who will i be?? #i'm almost looking at this as like. a superhero origin story of some sort. like this is my spider-bite moment. maybe. #will i be different? will i cope with things differently?? now that my body isn't fighting something anymore?? #maybe i'll be normal. i don't know. i don't know. #i don't know what it'll mean for me. #but all of these things mean i relate to peter parker in a certain kind of way #i don't think you have to be diagnosed with autism to recognise and empathise with those traits i think #i think everyone can see themselves in peter. and i think that's the benefit of having characters that aren't diagnosed. #because there's so much overlap in the human experience. and certain feelings aren't exclusive to just one group of people. #peter has such a rich identity actually. it's an autistic thing. it's a queer thing. it's a jewish thing. it's a trauma thing. #there are so many overlapping parts of peter's identity that inform who he is and how he behaves and it's never just one thing. #it's a product of all of his things. #just like me! just like everyone. #so me? i guess i can be a million things. you can explain what i am in a million different ways. #a hundred different psychologists can all come up with different ways to explain why i be the way i be. #i don't think it's something that can be simplified. #sorry wow. i'm really going off here in the tags. #i hope people don't think i'm stupid. i don't know brain science. i'm just philosophising as usual. #sci speaks

[goddessofthundathighs]

VII: WAITING

Suggested Listenings/Songs Mentioned: Overstimulated x Jhené Aiko; Loaded Gun x 6LACK; New Apartment x Ari Lennox

A/N: Instead of writing a separate chapter, the prompt that you picked is in this one @heybriheyyy!

The sound of heels clicking against the black and gold marble floors of the hallway alerted Erik of Skylar’s arrival. The pair had agreed to meet in his office for lunch to discuss his date with O’Shea and other methods of therapy he could implement going forward. For this to be merely a meeting among friends, she was dressed to kill sporting an ivory turtleneck sweater and black pinstripe pencil skirt that hugged her physique in all the right places. On her feet were a pair of black Priyadora Louboutin open-toe sandals and her signature gold wire-rimmed glasses held their usual place atop her head.

She walked in and shut the door behind her, a silent cue for Harper to cancel his appointments for at least the next hour.

“First of all, you’re an ass for leaving her the way you did. I understand that you were upset at her for laughing, but you could’ve handled that so much better.” Erik dropped his head. Though he rectified the situation, he knew that there was no way he would be able to escape Sky’s wrath about how he reacted to his phallus getting caught in Shea’s braces.

“I fixed it!” he declared, throwing his hands up in the air in defeat.

“Oh I know. Disney, huh?” Her lips were twisted into a knowing smirk, much to Erik’s disdain.

“It’s not what you think,” he lied unsuccessfully.

“Oh it’s exactly what I think, Stevens. You’re falling for her.”

“I am not.”

“Then what do you call it?” He paused for a moment, avoiding her face at all cost. He was reluctant to speak because it was a question he had been asking himself ever since he dropped O’Shea off at home the previous Friday. Sky must’ve sensed his dilemma because her demeanor softened as she took a seat in the chair across from him.

“Ok, let’s try this approach: why are you so drawn to her? Is it personal or purely experimental?”

“Is it selfish to say both?”

“Not entirely. Elaborate.”

“I can say that I like her, but it’s the way that I like her and the reasons why that is a mystery at the moment. On a personal level, she’s incredibly smart and beautiful. She challenges me much like you do and I genuinely like being in her company. On a professional level, I’m curious to how each of her personalities react in a true relationship setting. I could use that information to possibly determine why her past relationships failed and ensure that it doesn’t happen again.”

Skylar listened intently as Erik explained before giving her insight to the situation.

“That may be well and good but the fact still remains that she is a patient and a colleague of mine. Are you prepared to completely cross that line or do you want to solely as a means of furthering your research?” She didn’t give him a chance to answer as she continued her lecture. “Furthermore, if you choose the latter, are you prepared to handle the possible blowback? As free as you are with your methods there is still the review board to report to and they will ensure that every step you take is well documented down to the flavor of lube.. and ETHICAL. Tread very softly. I don't wanna see you lose your license over some emotional bullshit that could easily be straightened out.”

“That’s actually the part that scares me the most. I need to figure something out and fast.” Skylar agreed before grabbing her bag.

“Well let me know what you come up with,” she replied as she began making her way out of the office, leaving Erik with his wayward thoughts. He pulled out his phone and scrolled through the text thread between he and O’Shea, chuckling to himself at their playful banter.

“What are you doing to me, Ms. Powell?” he spoke aloud with a sly smile, completely oblivious to the woman that now occupied his office.

“Dr. Stevens?” the young woman spoke, her soft voice causing him to lift his head. She sported a black biker jacket with blue jeans and timberland boots, her hair a curly mess atop her head.

“Yes, how may I help you?” he asked as he sat back in his chair.

“My name is Oya Ramirez. We spoke on the phone briefly the other day.”

“Oh yes, Ms. Ramirez, please have a seat.” Though her smile was bright, her eyes held pain. He could tell that life hadn’t exactly been good to her, but she was trying to make the best out of a bad situation.

“What brings you by, Ms. Ramirez?” he inquired as he sat up straight and grabbed a pen.

“Well, as of late, I've been having trouble achieving orgasms. I know what I like and I know all of the things necessary to get me to that point, but nothing seems to be working. I’ve scared off all of my usual partners because they say that my sex drive is too high and it’s unattractive, which I find absolutely ridiculous.” He looked up with one eyebrow raised, staring at her as though he’d seen a ghost. Everything she said was exactly what O’Shea had told him on their first meeting and he was starting to wonder if he were being Punk’d.

“I read this article in a psychology magazine about how you help women with that sort of thing and I was wondering if you could help me.” Erik couldn’t tell if it was fate or if God had a twisted sense of humor, but this was exactly the sort of thing he needed. He could use the treatment methods he used on O’Shea as a placebo to see if they would truly be practical enough to incorporate into his usual routine. Maybe leveling the playing field would also help him gain clarity of the O’Shea situation.

“Alright Ms. Ramirez, what are your kinks?” As she rattled off the list, he learned that she was a bratty lesbian looking for a dom to tame her.

“Well Ms. Ramirez, my schedule is pretty full at the moment, however, here’s my business partner’s card. She’ll be more than happy to assist you with your needs.”

----------------

“A business trip? For how long?” O’Shea pouted from her seat across from his desk.

“It’s only going to be a week, but in that week I want us to not contact one another. Instead, I want you to try and implement other methods to destress.”

“Did I do something? Was it something I said?” Buttercup begged in a tone so pitiful it almost made Erik cancel the whole trip and cradle her in his arms like the baby she was. He could see Sky in the back of his mind shaking her head and he could hear her saying, "Unhealthy attachment. Transference." And this is exactly why I need to go. We both need clarity.

“I’m not abandoning you, Princess. Trust me, this time next week we’ll be back to our regularly scheduled program and I’ll even have new things for us to try.”

O'Shea blinked at the thought of something new and interesting brought in specifically for her, curiosity softening the blow of temporary abandonment. Afterall, it was only a week and she'd gone longer without attention. She could probably do it again.

The thought crossed her mind to call up Cameron or Michael, past contacts she'd usually turn to in moments when she needed something quick. Neither Bennie, Buttercup, or Bianca would be satisfied, but at least O'Shea would be getting something. However, just as soon as the thought came, it left again. They just weren't worth it, besides there was something sexy and a little charming about waiting. Maybe distance would make their hearts grow fonder.

“Okay, I guess I can deal with that. Just don’t be tryna replace me while you’re gone,” she fake pouted.

“Someone sounds possessive,” he teased as he lead her out of his office, his hands by his side as to not complicate things further. She merely smiled, and continued out to her car, trying hard not to let the bratty beast within her loose before their little experiment had even began.

“Not possessive, just confident. There’s only one O’Shea Powell, Dr. Stevens. Have a safe trip.”

With that, she slid into the driver’s seat of her Benz and drove off into the sunset, leaving Erik yearning to be in her presence once again.

Crushing the line // cutting the line // crossing the line// Bumps in the night // Got me over here overstimulated // Crushing the line // cutting the line // crossing the line // Bumps in the night // Got me, got me over here, over

The first day without Erik was quiet. O’Shea went to work and back home and curled up with a book to ease her mind, her Something Chill playlist playing softly in the background. Though she didn’t want to believe that it was her fault that Erik had left, that’s where her mind kept drifting. She tried to convince herself that their interactions were nothing more than patient/client, she couldn’t ignore the obvious. Regardless of what was going on, no one would willingly purchase a Pandora bracelet or any other token of affection if there weren’t some feelings involved. Could it be that he too felt what she was feeling and was distancing himself to put those feelings into clarity? If so, then why wouldn’t they just talk things out like adults? Separation only gives way to doubt and doubt ruins everything. O’Shea sighed and closed her book. This week was about to be a long one.

“Ade due Damballa, give me the power I beg of you! Leveau mercier du bois chaloitte. Seciose entinne mais pois de morte. Morteisma--”

“Girl, what the hell are you doing?” O’Shea stopped mid-chant and opened one eye to find Skylar standing over her, one eyebrow raised in suspicion.

“I was tryna bring my nigga back, damn,” O’Shea pouted, placing the Pandora bracelet back on her wrist. Skylar doubled over in laughter at the meek woman before her. Erik had only been gone 2 days and she was already acting crazy.

“First of all, stop it, you look stupid. That only works for the transference of spirits and you need the actual Heart of Damballa in order for it to work.”

“I keep forgetting you a wholeass Creole voodoo priestess in your spare time,” O’Shea remarked, pulling out her sketchbook to draw more prototypes.

“And you’re acting like a lovesick puppy.”

“I don’t know what it is, Sky. Like aside from the bomb ass head, I actually miss our conversations. He listened to me, made me laugh. Hell he was the first man in a while that actually cared about how my day was going and how I was feeling throughout the day. I know that’s his job as a therapist and all, but something about it seemed different.”

“Do you think you’re possibly starting to grow feelings for him?”

“Absolutely not!” Shea lied. In actuality, it was a thought she’d mulled over several times since their Disney adventure.

“Why do y’all insist on lying to me? Tell me what’s going on with you,” Sky said, pulling up a chair beside her. O’Shea sighed heavily, not really wanting to expose her true feelings, but Skylar wasn’t just anyone. She was a confidant and also a neutral source. If anyone could help Shea sort through her emotions, it would be her.

“I honestly don’t know how to explain it. Like on one hand, he’s strictly my therapist. Someone more than qualified to help me address my current issues and find and adequate solution. On the other hand, he’s Erik. An incredibly smart and equally handsome man that has put me in my place more times in the last few months than I can remember. I haven’t even laid eyes on the dick yet and I’m already acting like a prized poodle in the Westminster Kennel Club. When he says jump, I want to ask how high and that scares me. Instead of being turned off or annoyed by my little personalities, he embraces and nurtures them in a healthy way and I’m having a hard time distinguishing whether he’s this way because he genuinely wants to be or because, as a doctor, he has to be.” Skylar nodded, absorbing everything that O’Shea had to say before adding her two cents.

“So, I’ll ask again, are you growing feelings him? Before you answer, think about this: if you are growing feelings, are you capable of continuing a professional relationship with him if those feelings aren’t reciprocated?” O’Shea hadn’t thought about the fact that Erik may not feel the same and hearing it now had her stomach in knots. Skylar sensed her dilemma and continued her speech.

“Now I’m not asking this to scare you or to send you off the deep end with your emotions, but I’m being realistic. I honestly think you two need time apart so you both can get clarity of the situation as well as come to terms with whatever y’all are both feeling towards one another.

“He’s going to Wakanda for a week. He suggested that we not call or text one another the entire trip, something about finding other methods to destress.” Leave it to Erik to already be three steps ahead.

“Good. While he’s gone, I have a yoga class I think you’ll be interested in and we can go together.”

“Eww, I hate yoga,” Shea complained.

“You’ll enjoy this, trust me.”

----------------

The sunset in Wakanda was always the most beautiful part of visiting his aunt and cousins. It had been a few years since he’d visited the advanced nation and each time, something new caught his attention. This time, it was the customizations she had made to T’Challa’s Black Panther suit that caught his eye. She had added a stealth mode, meaning he could go invisible if needed be when he was in battle. His younger cousin never ceased to amaze him with her genius nature. One he’d gotten his belongings put away, he set out to find his aunt Ramonda. She was his second mother and if anyone could help him gain clarity of his current predicament, it was her. He found her seated in the floating tea room that overlooked the lush garden at the center of the palace. It was her one of her favorite places in the palace. She always came here when she wanted to get away and clear her head. She was adorned in a white Wakandan lace robe with a matching headdress.

“Auntie, can I talk to you about something?” She beamed, giving him a knowing smile before beckoning him to sit down beside her. She took his hand into her own and squeezed it gently, letting him know that he could speak freely.

“Tell me about her,” was all she said, noting the troubled look in his eyes.

“Who said a girl was involved?” She stared up at him incredulously before chuckling.

“You ask that as though I do not know you, N’Jadaka. You’ve checked your phone every 10 minutes since you got here and I can always read the trouble behind your eyes. Now, tell me about her.” He sighed, hating that he could never hide anything from his aunt.

“It’s one of my clients, I think I’m falling for her.” Ramonda chuckled softly to herself as she studied Erik. She could tell that the topic was a difficult one for him, noting the way he tugged nervously at a lone dreadlock that hung loosely in his face.

“Didn’t you say that you’d never get involved with one of your patients because it’s messy and unprofessional? What changed your mind?”

“I don't know Auntie. There’s something different about this girl. She intrigues me on a level that no other woman has before. She’s witty, and the culmination of her different personalities create a very interesting and sharp young lady," he smiled recounting the times her mouth had been quicker than he could anticipate.

"The man is asked to explain his attraction and he talks about multiple personalities," Shuri tsks making her presence known.

“Obviously I am needed! N'Jadaka!" Her hand clapped hard onto his back as she stood between him and the queen gazing out into the garden ahead.

"Figure out if she is an experiment, a patient, or a lover, but don’t use her to fill your emotional gaps. You’re a jerk if you do,” Shuri scolded before heading back towards her laboratory. "Thank me later," she called as she disappeared from sight. Erik stared after her for a beat before turning back to his aunt to squeezed his hand once more.

“She may be young, but she is wise beyond her years and she knows what she’s talking about. I can give you all of the advice in the world, but at the end of the day, it’s your decision to make. Lord knows we don’t want another Lynda situation,” the Queen concluded as she stood.

She stepped to the side and followed Shuri's path to the exit leaving Erik to gaze solemnly out over the garden and into the grand horizon. He thought back to his relationship with Lynda and how it ended, concluding with himself that O’Shea definitely wasn’t a Lynda. She was an enigma, but a goddess in her own right. She deserved someone that could give her his whole heart and love her as hard as he knew she loved. She deserved to be catered to and spoiled, but also disciplined whenever she stepped out of line; she was a submissive after all. She deserved a lover and a provider and he wasn’t sure that he could be all of those things for her, but he was more than willing to try.

“Dammit. I think I’m in love.” He whipped out his phone and called Skylar, remembering some things he forgot to tell her before he left.

“Wassup lover boy? Miss me already?”

“I always miss you, Nola,” he smirked, hearing her soft gasp at the nickname he hadn’t used since college.

“Real funny, Stevens. To what pleasure do I owe this phone call?”

“I know you don’t really do therapy, but I referred you to someone, Oya Ramirez. She suffers from the same symptoms as our bipolar beauty minus the other personalities and I figured she’d be a good experiment for you. She should be stopping by some time this week.”

“Oya Ramirez,” Skylar repeated, jotting the name down in her notebook for reference. “Got it. Anything else?”

“Nah, that’s it. I’ll be back in a few days. How my girl?”

“Oh, now she’s your girl?”

“You know what I mean. She doing ok?”

“She’s pretty good. We’ve got a yoga date tomorrow.”

“Yoga? She hates yoga.”

“There’s weed involved.”

“Ah,” he states with a nod. “I knew there had to be a catch, but yoga’s good. Good way to get her mind off things.”

“I’m well aware, Dr. Stevens. I’ll keep you posted on her progress.”

“Thanks, Nola. I owe you one.”

“You’re eternally indebted to me, Stevens. I thought we had this discussion already.”

“You right. I’ll make sure I bring you back something dope. Peace.” Erik ended the call and returned to his suite in the palace. It was a room he’d tried and failed to duplicate in his condo back in LA. The color scheme was black, white, and gold with a huge Alaskan king bed trimmed in black and gold in the center of the room. The walls were decorated with paintings of African and Egyptian royalty, including Queen Nefertiti and Anubis from Egyptian mythology. A large floor length mirror hung on the back of his bedroom door and his closet was its own ensuite. The floor was black and gold heated marble, the inspiration to the floor in his office and the ceiling changed to mimic the sky outside, no matter the time of day. He undressed and slipped under the covers, trying and failing to keep his mind from drifting to the current object of his affection as 6LACK‘s mellow voice filled the room.

I got women callin’ my phone like I owe them some’ // It’s kinda my fault // I guess I showed them some’ // No shit, I treat my dick just like a loaded gun // Point that shit away // These hoes gon’ blow what comes

He shook his head, smiling softly at the image of her little pout and the way her eyes lit up when he surprised her with the Pandora bracelet. He would give anything to see her smile the way she smiled that night again. The slight dip of the bed caused Erik to raise his head, only to drop it back against the pillow one he realized who the intruder was.

“I missed you too, Massika,” he murmured as the jaguar made her way up the bed and to her usual spot beside him. She purred softly, rubbing her nose against his face before settling down beside him. She had been his baby ever since he’d rescued her from poachers the last time he visited. Everywhere he went, Massika followed and he made a mental note to introduce her to O’Shea once they were official.

--------------------

Today felt different. The sunlight crept through the large bow window, casting an ethereal glow throughout the bedroom. O’Shea woke roughly 20 minutes before her alarm, something that typically only happened when she was stressed. She stretched and said her morning affirmations before finally slipping out of bed, a small smile creeping across her face.

“Hey Alexa, play Something Chill.” As the device came to life, O’Shea retired to her bathroom and allowed Ari Lennox’s smooth voice to help her get ready for the day.

Pop my woo-hah in the sky // ‘Cause nobody here to judge my life // Leave the dishes in the sink // Do some cartwheels // “Cause my furniture ain’t came // Standard shipping thing // I just got a new apartment // I’m gon’ leave the floor wet // Walk around this bitch naked // And nobody can tell me shit

Since she was awake early, she decided to indulge in a relaxing bath with her newest bath bomb from Lush, called Royalty. The floral scent of the bomb permeated the bathroom before being replaced by a hint of vanilla and sandalwood. She watched as the water turned from a warm golden to soft red and green before slipping into the water. She loved how soft the soy milk powder left her skin, smoother than a baby’s ass fresh from its mother’s womb. After a 30-minute soak, she retired from her bath to get dressed, choosing to slick her curls up into a high puff while sporting a white, floral mini dress and a jean jacket. She felt good, a genuine smile crossed her face as she glanced down at the Pandora bracelet that rested in the center of her jewelry box for the past 3 days. She’d chosen not to wear it, fearing that she would be plagued with thoughts of Erik and be tempted to call or text him. Thanks to Skylar, the week had gone by a lot faster than she’d expected and he was due back home within the next few hours. A quick swipe of her Fenty gloss bomb and she was out the door, a newfound pep in her step.

The jingle of the shop’s bell pulled Shea from her sketchbook. She looked up to find a short, light-skinned woman coming over to the counter. Her hair was braided into cornrows and she wore a white cropped hoodie, blue jean shorts, and white Fila tennis shoes.

“Hello. My name is Oya Ramirez. I was sent here by Dr. Erik Stevens. He told me to ask for Skylar.” O’Shea regarded the young woman for a bit before walking to the back to get Sky.

“Oh Ms. Ramirez, Dr. Stevens told me you’d be stopping by. Follow me this way.” Oya complied, walking with Sky to the back of the store. O’Shea smirked, watching the way Skylar’s eyes followed every move Oya made until they had disappeared somewhere among the tall shelves. Once they were gone, O’Shea turned her attention back to her sketchbook. Since the dildo generator had been approved, Sky had tasked O’Shea with designing preset models that could be customized for potential clients that didn’t want to design their own tool from scratch. Just as she was getting back into her groove, the bell jingled again.

“Hello, welcome to —”

The cocoa skinned woman held up her hand to silence Shea.

“I’m Monica, where’s Skylar?” Almost on cue, Sky emerged from the back of the store with Oya, both giggling like schoolgirls. Once Sky’s eyes met Monica’s however, her smile faded.

“Baby!” Monica tried, attempting to throw her arms around Sky’s neck, but stopping once she saw the death glare Sky was giving.

“Oya, call me tomorrow with updates. O’Shea, take your break.”

“But I just got here,” O’Shea complained.

“I said take a break!” Sky repeated, raising her voice slightly to emphasize her point. Shea seemed to take the hint, leaving Sky and Monica alone in the shop.

TAGS: @vikkidc @thadelightfulone @sydneebleu @trevantesbrat @madamslayyy @chaneajoyyy @jozigrrl @thehomierobbstark @amethyst1993 @iamrheaspeaks @mareethequeen @forbeautyandlife @whatmoredoyouwantamericaa @blowmymbackout @wakanda-inspired @nickidub718 @heyauntieeee @princessstevens @bartierbakarimobisson @xaviera108 @alexundefined @raysunshine78 @dameshaemonique @laketaj24 @youreadthatright @theogbadbitch @bugngiz @amirra88 @post-woke @im5ftbutmythroat66 @blackpinup22 @maya-leche @blessyd-bthyname @unholyxcumbucket @eclecticblkgirl @kissmyafropuff

TAGS DON’T WORK: @beaut1fulone-blog @chefjessypooh @queengidiva619 @love-me22 @honey-poooh @diva-Princess-on-fleek @heybriheyyy

#vanity writes #my shit #erik stevens #killmonger smut #daddy erik #killmonger fic #erik killmonger #erik killmonger x black oc #bde #carnal stimulation

[mad-queen-thorn]

Massive vent under the cut, its been a week and a half and I can’t seem to dwell on this any longer. Venting again only because I have very little followers and 90% of them are good friends I hang with regularly, so I feel safe spilling out my feelings here, don’t want to burden anyone with my thoughts and feelings, reading is optional.

I didn’t mention this here, because I didn’t feel the need to. 

When it comes to my Diabetes I’m almost in remission, its a good thing, and by June I might be off the meds and officially into remission. Which is looking promising, but knowing my luck, I beat one thing and two more take their place. Its like taking 3 steps forward and 2 steps back. 

And well, its 3 things this time, I’m now on blood pressure meds for hypertension, only weak ones, so its not that bad. Docs think it might be the pressure I’m putting on my body with the lifestyle changes, but when I lose more weight it should go back to normal. Other than that they want to check out my kidneys as they said there’s a lot of protein in there. They’ve pushed back one of my tests which is causing me worry. But it was merely because the equipment they wanted to give me hasn’t arrived yet. So maybe I’m worrying over nothing. 

Anyway, this isn’t the major thing I keep bottling up. 

Along with my Type 2 Meds and my Blood pressure meds, I take Fluoxetine, which I’ve been on since late 2015. For anxiety and depression. So with all the appointments I’ve been having the past few months they’ve also been keeping track of my mental health, and now the docs think it might be more than just my Anxiety and Depression. 

They think I’m Autistic. In fact, I’ve been told that its highly likely I am after them talking to me, a family member and a friend who has autistic children herself, talked together in the docs room about my past, my behaviours and such and how our friend sees a lot of traits in me, and the doc said “You’re most likely right.”.

We sent off a referral form with a tonne of information about myself, my hyper fixations, behaviours, stimming, social interaction and more.

I’m officially under investigation for Autism.

I’ve been trying to process the information for almost 2 weeks now, barely telling a soul about it. But with the information I’ve been given, the more I think about it, the more of my life is making sense: 

When I was younger, I had a hard time making friends and I still do. I thought it was because I was ugly, weird and because of my overbite that it drove people away. That it was my fault entirely for not being good enough, like bullies made be believe. 

Turns out, that making friends can be hard of Autistic people because of their differences in communication. 

Which at the end of day... explains a lot. 

I’ve noticed that in large groups, I’m very quiet, both in person and online. I don’t speak unless I feel its needed to, and I try to not speak over people and often find myself doing so. I really don’t mean to. I just find it really hard to understand when there’s a good window for me to chirp in without seeming rude. Other times I’ll wait and wait and then when its time for a moment for me to voice the conversation has most likely moved on, which isn’t a bad thing. It just seems like I don’t have a good grasp of social cues. 

My black and white thinking also seems to impact my social interaction. As in the past I’ve just assumed and read situations wrong. Sometimes accidentally upset friends on multiple occasions without meaning. As sometimes my mind is just: 

“It has to be 1 or 2″ And nothing like a 3rd option comes to mind until its pointed out or I’ve made my mistake and beat myself up for it. Thinking I was being selfish and horrible. But now I guess that this explains those moments. They happen a lot, but not in bad ways. Like I said, sometimes its either one or the other, and I fail to see alternative options unless stated. 

Like, the other day I was with my friend who has autistic children, we play Pokemon Go together. And we had a debate about the design of Attack and Normal Deoxys: 

(The top Two) 

She said that they are a different colour, yet I said they are the same colour. Yet she said they’re different. Now, my brain didn’t connect the dots and that she meant that parts of their body are different colour but they both have the same colour scheme. It took me a few moments to actually get what she meant... so??? I guess??

I tend to have little moments in communication like that. 

Also, when some of my family make a joke, most of the time I don’t laugh. My sense of humour tends to be niche and connected to my hyper fixations and spur of the moment puns. Or I’ll make a joke to my family or a friend and they don’t get it, and I have to explain and they still don’t find it funny. I seem to have stronger connections to people who are into the same things I am. Something for me to build a conversation off of or I’ll fail to maintain a conversation. 

I thought this was just normal?? But at the same time it might not be...

Idk I have so many questions. There has been many things I’ve questioned about myself.

Like the need for a second opinion on situations others would see as common sense. Sometimes I go to someone I trust, explain a situation only to be told my feelings are valid and why I’m even questioning them. 

I dunno, it feels good that there might be a possibility behind how I communicate. 

While explaining to me, the doc said: “Your brain seems wired different, and you see the world differently from everyone else. People need to understand that.”

And I... like I said, I don’t know. 

I mean, the following seems to also be signs: 

In person I find it hard to make eye contact. 

I like to be left alone sometimes. 

I can’t be alone for long periods of time as I get stressed and it pulls down my whole mood. 

I find it hard to take part in group conversations over voice. Text is fine. 

My body language and tone can be completely different to what I actually mean. I’ve gotten in trouble with this, but the person who was mad at me didn’t understand. 

I don’t pick up on body language. 

But I’ll be observant on everything else. I tend to spot most things others don’t notice. I’ve had this in person many times and people tend to compliment me with “Wow you’re so observant!”, “You have good eyes!”. 

Lack of excitement, this happened today. We got new carpets in and my mother was overjoyed, but I never felt a thing. I felt like I should be happy too but I couldn’t. I am capable of being happy for other people, but yet again, it has to be connected to a hyper fixation or someone I trust/care about. 

Relationship with my parents isn’t great, probably due to my communication issues.

I only express myself to people I deem I’m close to, other than that I seem very disconnected. I’ve heard people say that I seem to be in my “own little world” on more than one occasion.

Selective Mute or nonverbal. Sometimes I just can’t speak or come up with what to say and remain silent. 

Picky with food. For example, if someone puts beans on my plate, I simply can’t eat around them. I’ll dismiss the entire plate and feel bad about it. Cuz my mind tends to think the whole thing is “contaminated” by the beans and I can’t eat it. 

In person I can tend to point instead of using words sometimes. 

I’m not a touchy person, especially with my family. But if you’re someone I trust, I’ll probably cuddle you to death. Really selective of who I let close to me.

Nobody can touch my hair but me. Nobody can brush it but me. If I let you brush it, its a blessing. 

Always listening to music while doing things like drawing/walking ect. 

Questioning my place in social situations and how others think. I have a habit of putting myself below everyone else. The idea of other people thinking of me or thinking positively of me next to never crosses my mind, the whole thing seems foreign to me. 

Another major pointer to it is my stimming. 

Now, I’ve stimmed for many years now and felt BAD about it. Because I felt like I didn’t deserve the stim toys I have. But now everything is starting to make sense. Even though my stimming does piss some family members off, I try to not do it around them and simply can’t. Sometimes I start stimming without even noticing. The most common being my legs, I will bounce them. All the time. If my hands are busy its my legs, if my legs aren’t moving, I need something in my hands and I have quite a few stim toys. From fidget cubes to squishy pokeballs. I have a habit of making them click or rolling the ball in my hands between rounds on videogames or when watching youtube videos. I also tend to lean towards glitter shakers. Love those things. I tend to mute my mic a lot during voice calls as I get paranoid people can hear me stimming. Because I feel like the bump bump of my foot on the floor or the clicking of my fidget cube will annoy people. 

Not adjusting well to change and being in social situations with a lot of people are another two signs. For example, yesterday I was in the kitchen with all the furniture while the carpets had been getting put down, there was limited space to move, I had nothing to stim with and didn’t like it. I felt bad for being annoyed. I wanted to go to my room but couldn’t. I wanted to move around. 

When it comes to social situations, I can go to heavy populated situations like conventions but not for long. I start getting overwhelmed and feeling sick. I enjoy it as much as I can but I can only take so much. 

Same with social interaction. I can only take so much. 

Once I get overstimulated I can get moody and my temper shortens, but I usually isolate myself by the time it comes to that point.     

I blamed all my social woes on my Anxiety but at this point it might not be my anxiety. It might be Autism.

But one final thing that also points to it:

Hyperfixations

I currently have two massive fixations.

Pokémon which is one I've had all my life

And Guild Wars 2 which has been a fixation since 2017

But within them I have specific things I fixate on. Which I guess are sub fixations?

For example, in Pokémon. I love the lore, certain legendaries and I absolutely adore cat Pokémon. Every time there is a new Pokémon game out I almost cry in excitement. My bedroom is covered in Pokémon stuff with a few other fandoms scattered in there but it's 90% Pokémon.

Pokémon shirts, Pokémon bedding. Pokémon posters, Pokémon bags, Pokémon plushies, keyrings.

Whenever I get something my family tend to go "Ugh. Not more Pokémon"

And Guild Wars 2 is pretty self explanatory.

I love Aurene, Tybalt and most of the main characters and lore.

I have the Rytlock figure and art and the OST discs ext. Books of lore and stories.

But 90% of my fixation is on the Thorns.

Thorn Pyjamas, Thorn bags, Thorn plush. Anything I can get my grubby little hands on...

Go figure!

I also try to not express myself too much as in the past I've had people try to force me out of hyperfixations because I was too "annoying".

I feel like I talk about my two major fixes too much. So I try to curb down on it to not drive people away...?

I wish I knew the results as I have so many questions.

They said they think it's very likely I'm autistic.

I don't want to write myself off and say "Yeah, I'm Autistic."

Because there's that chance I'm not. But so many people who know me in person think I am. And I've been asked many times over the years and never had a second thought about it.

And like I said, the docs said I most likely am.

I'm just waiting for an assessment and the result which I got told could take months to years.

I just want answers so I know how to make life is easier for me.

I want answers so I can just be myself without fear because I keep holding myself back thinking I'm weird or a bad person or bad at communication.

I always notice my social flaws and say they're "habits I need to kick"

But maybe they're not. Maybe it's just how I am.

I want to know.

I need to know...

I just want answers...

#just a vent post #need to vent

[garbageivereleasedintothevoid]

02-02-19 (Saturday)

Idk how to explain this but straight people have such a wildly different view on intimacy than queer people do. Like no cishet I've ever spoken to has ever understood that me cuddling with my best friend isn't sexual. Like I'm just cuddling... We love each other but we're not IN LOVE with each other. Hell, neither of us have any interest in that whatsoever. They're MARRIED. I was in the wedding. I think they are a great match with their wife. They balance each other out. She makes them happy and that makes me happy.

I can't tell you how many cishets have been absolutely weirded out by learning that I cuddle with my best friend. They just don't get it. "Don't you start feeling... Something?" Besides safe and happy, no. Idk. It's like they think they're gonna catch me doing something idk. I just feel safe and happy with them. Hell, Grover and I do, too, sometimes. Not a lot because Grover gets overstimulated a lot, not because it's weird.

Idk. Platonic cuddling is one of the milder things queer people do that cishets hate. Telling your friend they're cute is a slight step up. Talking to your friends about your kinks is interesting to try and say you do. Most are absolutely revolted. It's hilarious. Queer are so much more open about things to each other. Legitimately. I've had full on conversations about kinks and how to not be an ass about them and actual sexual escapades they've had with queer people I barely know. Cishet people I have known for years will give me small talk about the weather. This is why I feel queerness is like family. We're so open with each other. And we stick together. We're who we can trust. We already kinda know each other even if we don't. And we can almost always recognize each other. Gaydar isn't perfect but it's a good indicator. And not everyone has it. But I do. I have predicted people's queerness before.

And I'm gonna be honest, I get a small queer vibe from you. Not like as explicit as I usually get so I interpret that as "Mostly hetero but with maybe a few exceptions if she wasn't already in a committed relationship (which makes a huge difference tbh)." But I could be wrong. Gaydar, like I said, isn't perfect and sometimes it confuses people who are willing to talk about sex/the intricacies of sexual attraction/sexual boundaries with you with queer people. I could be wrong but that's the vibe I get. I also have some backup evidence for that, though it's sll subjective. Your kid being queer is one of them. Kids with queer bioparents (whether or not they know the parent is queer is irrelevant) are more likely to be queer. You've made vague references to experimentation before meeting your husband. You've also made some comments that make me believe you have some attraction to a specific woman. You don't have to acknowledge this or tell me anything. You owe me nothing on the subject. And if this isn't something you actually feel comfortable talking about to me, you should feel NO obligation. Just so we're clear. Also I think a lot about "What if *random person* is actually queer and either closeted/doesn't know it yet?" It's definitely not just you. So this is a common occurrence for me and not just a thought I had about you, I swear and I would be completely surprised if it wasn't a common thing for other queer people to think about as well. We always... We always think about how many of us there are. We wonder because there's no official count/statistic beyond the like 3.5% figure that I truly feel greatly lowballs how many of us there are. I really feel like we're at least 20% or more if the population. Also it's very difficult to get an accurate ciunt because the closet is still VERY necessary for many of us. I saw a post btw about that actually and it articulated a thought I'd been trying to summarize for a while.

That. That is something I think about a lot. I value happiness. Safety is great but if I'm not happy, what's the point? If I'm miserable and want to die, who cares if I'm safe. This is also why I felt better after becoming homeless. Because I wasn't being restricted as to what I could be anymore. Everything, every single decision about my life rested in my hands. I admit, I went a bit apeshit with the finding happiness thing. Went a bit too hedonistic and not enough responsibility but everyone has that, right? Everyone has that moment. But the difference is that most people's moments were like "I can have candy for breakfast and no one can stop me." Which is an appropriate reaction to being like 18 and livjng alone for the first time when your parents only exerted a healthy amount of control. But when every aspect of your life was controlled and your privacy repeatedly violated and disregarded, becoming a hermit who blows money on fast food whenever they get it (that's what I was in 2015) isn't as drastic as it would initially seem. I felt kinda drunk with power over my own life. And it's natural that I'd make some questionable decisions about it when I had the first instance of control I'd had in 22 years. I learned though. I don't eat out nearly as much as I would have in 2014 if I got $771 a month. I don't just stay in my apartment all the time enjoying the solitude (admittedly have been staying inside a lot more lately but it's been like 2° outside and people have been kinda draining for me lately.) For weeks on end. I don't take midnight strolls through neighborhoods I don't know for fun (because it occurred to me that no one could stop me. I was like "There's nothing to stop me from just walking around at midnight. No shelter worker threatening to kick me out. No parents trying to tell me I'm just using them. Nobody. I can just leave and never come back if I wanted to." I didn't have anywhere else to go... But if I HAD, I can't guarantee I wouldn't have just gone.) But it's a weird thing to realize the entire world has opened up to you now that your parents kicked you out. It's such an unexplainable feeling. I don't get it.