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#having adhd is really hard and I only found out I had it a few months ago (got diagnosed) and just seeing y'all be able to relate
piskelo10 · 1 year
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I read all the reblog tags on the other post and I am so happy
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I was born and raised American, but with everything that's happened over the past few years I've been considering moving to another country. but I don't know if this is just "the grass is greener". Not sure if this really fits with your blog, but as someone from Europe what's your attitude towards living in the US?
I've visited there a handful of times and most of my thoughts are "damn bitch, y'all really live like this?" People in Finland like to complain about the climate, the taxes, and how stingy the welfare systems are (if you currently rely on them) or how costly they are (if you're currently not relying on them), but honestly most of the time that's because people are used to having it so good, or don't really have a perspective of how bad everyone would be doing without the infrastructure that everything runs on.
Sure, nowhere is perfect, and there's always room for improvement, but honestly the people I've met in the US only really seem to think that their system is good because they've never been anywhere else and don't know any better.
Mostly it's stuff that you'd never think about if you hadn't been to both places, like being able to trust that tap water is drinkable or that you can safely walk/bike to wherever you need to go. The US really doesn't have the kind of ability to just hang out in public places, just walking to the town and sitting on benches. Having public parks and libraries isn't really the same if you can't just walk there, and you genuinely need a car to go anywhere.
I moan and lament a lot about how the winters here are hard to endure - at the darkest time of the year the sun rises at 9 and sets before 5 pm - but I wouldn't move from here just because of that, mainly because of how reliably everything is structured here. Sure, it's all run with funds from relatively high taxes, but that is a self-feeding loop on its own. The tax-paying workforce isn't a disposable resource that's wrung dry once and tossed out when it's broken, but even when you're just another cog in the machine, you're one that's maintained, not replaced if broken.
I had a lot of breakdowns when I was younger, largely due to depression and other mental issues I had due to the undiagnosed ADHD. When I started breaking down at work in my old factory job, they couldn't just fire me on the spot because of the workers' union fought tooth and nail to make sure that you can't throw people out for getting sick, and mental illness is treated no different from other health issues. I was allowed to take two years off work in order to study into a career I thought would fit me better. That didn't turn out well either, but I was still allowed to bounce back and forth between odd jobs, sick leave, and studying - all on government pensions during the spots when I wasn't working a wage - until I found the right diagnosis, the right medications, and the right job.
It's not a hyperbole to say that I owe my life to the ample and studry social welfare systems that Finland has in place. Sure, you're just another brick in the wall, a cog in the machine, but if you keep breaking down, it takes a long time until they completely give up on you if you can somehow make them believe that you're trying, because it's cheaper for the tax system to figure out how to make you fit into the machine than just toss you out. A human being is an expensive investment and if getting you to the right job, education, diagnosis, medication or even arranged housing is what it takes to get your ass back into the workforce, they'll at least try.
I'm perfectly happy to pay the taxes here to fund the system that helped me onto my feet when I was in no condition to function, and to support the people who never do recover, find their place, or be able to support themselves on their own. And I can live with the peace of mind that even if I fall apart again, that safety net is still there. It's brutal, pragmatic, and regards your health and welfare as a means to an end - to get you working and paying taxes again - but they still do prioritise your welfare. Cogs are cheaper to maintain than replace.
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jen-with-a-pen · 11 months
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F O X HUNT
summary: Not only has HYDRA executed their infiltration on S.H.I.E.L.D., but they have also reclaimed their finest weapon. Your safety isn't the only thing that's compromised.
pairings: WS!Beefy!Bucky Barnes x F!Avenger!Reader
word count: 6.1k
warnings: chasing, being hunted down, implied n0n-con elements, canon-level violence, cursing, implied t0rture, blood, beat1ngs, forced nud1ty, language, HYDRA-level cruelty, Bucky gets Brainwashed (again), there's Steve x Reader if you squint REALLY REALLY hard
read here on ao3!
a/n: This was inspired by last year's Whumptober Day 2: NOWHERE TO RUN - CORNERED, CAGED AND CONFRONTATION. I know it's February JUNE, but shit came up and my motivation tanked lmao thanks adhd med trials Literally have never done a dark(er?) fic before and this one has been cooking for god knows how fucking long now. I hope y'all like it <3 (also the hydra victory au is something i discovered from the lovely @lunarbuck reset series and stewed obsessively over for literal months now. still obsessed with it whoops)
dividers by @firefly-graphics | gif by @lost-shoe | @hydravictrix
my ao3 | my masterlist
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Translations
Lisitsa | лисица - fox/little fox
Soldat | солдат - soldier
Syuda | сюда - over here
Khitraya suka | хитрая сука - sly bitch
Moy priz | мой приз - my prize
Glupaya pizda | глупая пизда - stupid cunt
Moye | мое - mine
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The infiltration was subtle at the start.
A few missions gone mysteriously wrong, agents killed in action or disappearing entirely, hacks that were, thankfully, contained within an inch of a full-blown data breach. All of it seemed so coincidental when it happened, swept under the rug each and every single time before Director Fury could have a swear-filled say as to what the hell was going on. 
But hindsight is 20/20. It always is.
The day S.H.I.E.L.D. fell was, ironically, the perfect day: brilliant sunshine, clear blue skies, a breeze weaving between the towering buildings and skyscrapers. It was almost eerie, in a way, how perfect of a day it was. 
You found yourself in the gym, Steve and Sam hashing it out on whose turn it was in sparring. You had all but knocked Sam out cold in the previous round as Steve watched from behind the ropes, cheering you on with a cocky, proud grin as he watched all of his hard work in your training pay off.
Of course, the stubborn ass he was, Sam wanted another go. 
“C’mon, Steve! I wanna rematch!” Sam protested, gesturing wildly in your direction with one hand while his other held an ice pack to his bruised temple. Steve stifled a laugh, tossing a glance over his shoulder to you. You shook your head, smiling back as you gulped down the rest of your water bottle. Cool strands spilled out from the corners of your lips and down your chest. You welcomed the relief from the sweat gluing your t-shirt to your skin. 
“How ‘bout I take Steve instead of giving you another concussion?” you retorted, giggling as Sam shot a narrow look at you. He huffed, forfeiting his argument by waving a dismissive hand. 
“Fine, ’m gonna go find some pain meds,” he grumbled, turning to point a swollen finger at Steve. “I better see you in the infirmary next, Cap.” 
He stomped off through the metal doors and left the two of you in silence.
“Whaddya say, sweetheart? You up for round two?” Steve teased, stepping under the ropes and into the ring. He wrapped his hands as he moved to the center, muscle memory carrying him while keeping his eager gaze on you. His eyes carried excitement as they journeyed up and down your figure, rolling his lip between his teeth as he drank you with his stare. 
You did little to hide your pride at the Captain checking you out, chewing the corner of your cheek to tame your own smirk at the beautiful blond. You turned away, hiding the heat from your cheeks as you tossed your bottle at your bag. You weaved under the ropes, coming face to face with your willing opponent in the center. You lifted your chin to meet his, the hidden smirk on your lips growing into a grin.
“With you? Always, old man,” you purred. You tossed him a teasing wink as you positioned your fists in front of you, feet planted firmly in the starting stance. Steve lingered on you for a second longer, tongue swiping across his lips hungrily as he cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders, raising his hands to mirror you.
The two of you began to circle one another, dancing in a familiar pattern you knew by heart. Steve took his first swipe at you and you ducked, managing a hit to his stomach. A grunt escaped from him– not of hurt but of thrill. He lunged for you as you dodged again, blocking his failed strike to your head. 
“Wow! You really can’t teach an old dog new tricks!” you taunted, dodging another blow, his wrapped fist only grazing your shoulder. You rolled it back, holding back a slight wince as you continued the violent waltz. 
You lunged at him, instead faltering and falling to the ground. Readying the curse on your tongue, it stopped short of your lips as you looked up at Steve. 
He stood frozen in place, panting, fists at his sides clenching tighter and tighter. As you opened your mouth to unload even more cursing questions, screeching erupted from the loudspeakers around the room. High-pitched tones screaming above, a robotic voice speaking clinically and quickly. You scrambled off the floor, unease creeping in as you latched onto Steve’s arm, his arm tensing under your touch.
CODE WHITE. CODE SILVER. ALL SECURITY AND TEAM UNITS URGENTLY NEEDED. 40th FLOOR. THREAT IS ACTIVE AND HIGHLY DANGEROUS. REPEAT. CODE WHITE. CODE SILVER. ALL SECURITY AND TEAM UNITS–
The message had cut out, static replacing it alongside the echoing alarms throughout the hallways outside the gym. You looked up at Steve. Anxiety surged upon finding his face devoid of all blood, his jaw slack, eyes boring into the metal doors leading to the hallway. He looked scared. 
You’d never seen Steve scared before. 
“Steve, what the fuck was that–”
“Get to the locker rooms and hide,” he ordered. He pulled his arm from you, jumping over the ropes and sprinting to his duffel bag on the floor. He pulled out his phone and dialed frantically as he ran to the doors. 
“Steve!” You stood trembling in the ring as your stomach churned. 
“Now!” he yelled. “I’ll come back for you!” 
He didn’t wait to hear your response as he slammed the gym doors shut, followed by a whir and click.
He locked you in. 
You didn’t– couldn’t– hesitate as a surge of urgency overtook you. You needed to hide. Now. Fast.
Your legs carried you as you jumped out of the ring and raced to grab your duffel bag, sprinting to the back of the gym through another set of double doors. You wove through the tiled maze of the locker room searching for some sort of hiding spot, settling on the showers. You snuck over to the stall at the very end, the closest one to the emergency exit, and ducked under the opaque plastic curtain. Your bag fell to the floor as you climbed onto the stall seat. Blood pumped in your ears, thumping as quickly as your shaky, shallow breathing. Millions of thoughts and questions and worries rushed through your mind at impossible speeds.
White and Silver. Which alert was that for?
You racked through fleeting memories, distant recollections of training and orientation from months ago, searching for anything remotely familiar. You remembered all of the other codes– red, orange, teal– but no white, no silver. 
A faint buzzing sounded from inside your duffel. You lunged, unzipping it and fishing out your phone. Natasha. Her name lit up the screen and you frantically hit the answer key before the call could even think about dropping.
“Where the fuck are you?” Her panicked voice hissed into your ear. Her edged tone was enough to make your stomach backflip faster. 
“Locker rooms, forty-fifth floor. What the fuck is going on, Nat?” Your voice shook as anger and confusion boiled in your blood.
A muffled swear. “Where’s Steve?”
“He ran out, locked me in, told me to hide.” More incoherent curses.
“Fuck, fuck, okay, look, trust me on this, you need to stay where you are, okay? I can get you out, I–” 
High-pitched ringing overtook the speaker, sending you reeling away from the receiver. Static echoed out of the speakers.
“You what? Natasha!”
“No– time– you–”
“Natasha! Hello?”
Beep. Beep. Beep.
You tore the phone away from your ear and choked back the bile rising in your throat. Service was out. The blinking bars at the top of the screen mocked you and your sudden plunge into isolation. 
The lights went next. 
The dull fluorescents flickered. Someone cut the electricity, sending you into almost darkness as the backup generator lights kicked on. Scattered lights from above cast an eerie yellow glow over the shower tiles. You’d only seen this kind of outage happen once before, when New York was hit with Hurricane Noah a few years back.
The fear you felt in that storm paled in comparison to what you felt now.
You sighed, shaky and surrendering, and pulled your body closer to you on the shower bench. A chill snaked its way down your spine as your skin brushed the cool ceramic, an unwelcome addition to the cold already enveloping you. Your sweat-soaked t-shirt and shorts failed to aid you and your aching muscles. Fingernails dug into your kneecaps in a struggle to stop trembling as you tried to focus on your breathing. Inhaling, exhaling, in, out. Screwing your eyes shut, praying to any deity imaginable it was all just a drill, it was all an accident or a misunderstanding or–
The ground shook as a loud bang echoed from outside the locker room. A panicked yelp escaped your throat before your hands could scramble and cover your mouth. You froze as the tremors subsided and listened. It, or they, sounded close. 
Too close. 
Another BANG! Then another. 
Rhythmic, steady blows, each quicker and more powerful than the last. Hands clamped tighter over your lips until your blood froze at the sounds of crushing steel and crumbling concrete. The lump in your throat grew as horrific realization flooded over you. 
They, or it, broke in.
You couldn’t wrap your head around it– those doors were more fortified than Tony’s lab. Four-inch-thick, steel and plexiglass doors with a three-tier secured locking system. Nothing, nobody– not even the strongest Super Soldier– was powerful enough to make the faintest of dents in them.
Racing through who, or what, could have possibly broken into the gym, your train of thought derailed as echoes of men yelling indecipherable words and mixed commands shattered the remaining air of safety you clung to. Listening intently, a mix of combat boots and tactical gear filtered in with the echoed commands.
The S.T.R.I.K.E. Team.
Your legs begged for reprieve from crouching, but your body disobeyed and froze you in place. Part of you didn’t trust who was outside. Footsteps and gruff voices became heavier, closer. The relief that greeted you was replaced again by panic as you listened closer.
Clear, Russian commands resonated at the entrance to the locker rooms. They were coming in. 
Your breath hitched, blood running cold as footsteps closed in. It was one person, but their steps didn’t sound like the heavy boots before them. They sounded more like…
Sneakers?
The rubber from the intruder’s shoes squeaked on the tiled floors. Ragged breathing echoed off the walls. A low growl, accompanied by quiet whirring. Someone big, someone mean. 
Your heart made its way to your throat as the intruder inched closer. Slow, methodical, as if trained in search and rescue. 
It didn’t feel like a rescue.
The lump almost turned into a scream as an echoed BANG carried from the bathroom stalls around the corner. Silence followed, then a growl, then another BANG. The cycle repeated for the remaining stalls, the intruder slowly creeping along. Growls became deeper upon each disappointment. 
Hostages. They were looking for hostages.
Soles squeaked as the intruder changed course, stomping around the corner to search the line of shower stalls. You hiccuped a sob, realizing tears started to trail down your cheeks. Biting your palm only proved a lame attempt to calm your racing heart, a scream threatening to leave your throat as they began tearing the plastic curtains off the stalls. Each clang of metal cracking onto the tile became closer as you ground your teeth into the meat of your hand. Eyes screwed shut, silent prayers raced in your head, pleading to wake up; to wake up from this hellscape of a sick, twisted nightmare. 
The intruder’s steps stopped. 
Your eyes opened, widening at the blurred, hulking shadow standing outside of your stall. They had to be well over six feet. Towering, bulky, monstrous. 
Slowly, the shadow’s hand reached for the curtain. One by one, its fingers closed around the plastic’s edge, preparing to rip it down and rip you open. Eyes burning, hot tears felt like molten metal as you attempted to make yourself as small as possible in your corner, huddling your knees as close as they could be. This was it. This was the end. You prayed– actually fucking prayed– hoping they couldn’t hear your pathetic whimpering, hoping they would make this quick, painless; break your neck or put a gun to your head and get it over with. Leave your body for someone else to find.
“Soldat, syuda!” 
The command made your heart stop.
The shadow froze, stopped by a call from the entrance to the locker room. Skin met your teeth as you bit harder into your hand. Lungs began panicking as you started hyperventilating, bile reaching your throat and burning the back of your tongue. 
The shadow, the monster, growled in protest. It retracted the curled hand from the curtain, wordlessly moving back towards the bathroom stalls. Footsteps faded as muffled conversation floated away from the locker room.
You needed to get the fuck out of there. 
You slid off the bench, legs aching and knees popping as you crouched silently over to the curtain, peeking out behind the plastic. It crinkled quietly and you bit your lip, leaning out ever so slightly over the threshold. 
Tiptoeing around the corner, you faced the emergency exit. The glowing sign omitted a creepy, green glow that added to the eeriness brought by the generator lights. 
This was it.
You slammed the push bar down, throwing the door open with your body and spilling out into the hallway. Sunlight flashed through the infinite glass hallway, blinding you. In your frozen state, you hear commotion from behind the door as it slammed shut. Banging from the other side, the sound of metal on metal, made your teeth grind. Indents from punches dented the door, deforming its smooth outside. You didn’t stay frozen for long as your body screamed at you to fucking move, now.
Your legs obeyed immediately, carrying you through the corridor to the closest means of escape you could find. As you rounded the corner, the crushing sounds of the door breaking off of its hinges hit your ears. You didn’t dare to look back, sprinting through the twists and turns of the infinite hallway. You followed what felt familiar, burning muscles egged on by the sound of pounding footsteps getting closer and closer.
Finally, you stumbled onto the entrance to a stairwell, pausing to gasp for air your lungs demanded. The burn in your legs and chest only aided in the physiological need to hyperventilate. Sweat dripped from your temple and your head pounded as hard as your feet hitting the ground. 
You leaned into the safety bar, inches away from further distancing yourself from whatever, whoever, was on your trail, when a yell erupted from the end of the hallway. 
It felt like slow-motion; one of those scenes in those cheesy horror movies Sam always made you and Steve watch on weekends off. The ones with cheap FX, bad sound, but somehow great editing for the budget. The scenes where realization hits the main character and suddenly everything is half the speed while they still move in real time. 
You turned your head towards the source. Then, it hit you. Blood drained from your face as the horror of realization hit you, like a speeding sixteen-wheeler head on.
Bucky Barnes stood hulking at the end of the hallway. Generator lights and setting sun illuminated his snarling teeth, gleaming from parted lips that had him panting like a rabid dog. If you hadn’t known better it would’ve looked like he was heading for the gym for his daily workout. Blown pupils, sweat-stuck hair, complimented by a shaking frame– most definitely caused by adrenaline, dopamine, and a slew of Gods-knew-what other drugs he had pumped into his system. Splotches of drying, smeared blood coated his neck and shirt while even more dripped onto the ground from his fists. The crimson contrasted with the medically white floors. 
Bile rose in your throat again. The acidic taste made you dry heave at the sight of the blood, knowing from the looks of Bucky it definitely wasn’t his.
He snarled as your eyes finally met. Fists of flesh and metal flexed. Rippling muscles shook as he readied to launch forward.
“You’re mine, lisitsa!” he barked. His voice booming louder than the speed of sound, it made your ears ring.
Your throat finally opened. You screamed as he sprinted towards you, making more ground down the hallway than an apex predator out of hibernation. You shoved the exit door open, heaving your legs forward as you ascended the stairs. No choice but to go up, you refused to look back– nay you didn’t dare to even consider it. Muscles and tendons and joints burned, yearning for you to stop, but the door slamming from flights below you only pushed you harder, flying up and passing floor after floor. 
You were fast, but he was faster. 
Dizziness overtook you as your vision began to blur. Darkened edges of your peripherals made you stop your climb at level 50, pausing for a split second to hear Bucky’s progress. He was close behind, but you still had more of an advantage. You knew the Tower better than him. You knew level 50 had another stairwell on the opposite side of the floor, through another hallway off the corner of your current one. Sneakers pounded too close for comfort as you shoved the door open and made a break for it down another corridor labyrinth.
If you made it out of this alive, you swore you’d kill Tony’s architect yourself. 
“You can’t hide forever, lisitsa!” Bucky’s voice rang out from the stairwell as you rounded the corner, sprinting through more identical-looking hallways. Another corner later and the glowing red EXIT sign appeared above the next stairwell. A beacon of hope, almost. Relieved, you head straight for it, body and mind and soul pushing against the burning and the gasping for air. You were right there, hand outstretched, fingertips grasping the metal bar–
It felt like a car crash. 
Not an accident or fender bender. No, it felt like seventy miles an hour meets a tree with no intent of moving. That split-second feeling where your stomach drops and you can all but brace for the deadly impact destined for you to meet.
Time stopped as you were yanked backwards. Cold, slick metal wrapped around your ankle, bloody hand print smearing some poor bastard’s DNA all over your calf as your body fell to the ground. Hard. Your jaw clenched as your chin slammed into the linoleum. Teeth ground into your tongue as copper flooded your tastebuds. Your lungs, with little wind left in them, gasped for oxygen. Another scream rising in your throat became stuck in your vocal cords. 
Bucky whipped you around as you struggled to free your lower half. You landed on your shoulder, head bouncing against the floor and teary eyes struggled to stay open and endure the pain. He straddled your form, the weight crashing down on your bones and organs. A sharp inhale impaled your chest as you met Bucky’s darkened eyes, then; the familiar steel blue replaced entirely with dilated, unhinged pupils. 
It was the first time you got a good look at his face. His face is speckled with blood spatter and several bruises spread across his cheek down his neck. Two black eyes, a bloody nose– one you hoped was his– and a broken lip. The bloodied collar of his shirt only aided in the mess of his hair. His soft, chocolate strands stuck in mats to his neck and temples with sweat and blood. 
Out of sheer habit, because he looked like your Bucky, you couldn’t help but reach a hand out to him. A soft plea for the man behind his eyes, one you begged everything holy was still there. He held your stare, face contorting into unrecognizable emotions. Tears brimmed your eyes as your hand stretched further, sobs escaping as your fingers inched closer and closer to his battered face.
“Bucky, it’s me–”
Your appeal transformed into a shriek, quickly snuffed out as Bucky wrapped his crimson-spattered metal hand around your throat. You choked, sputtering lost pleas as your hands flew to your neck. Fingernails flailed in futile attempts to claw off the weapons-grade titanium. 
“You’re done running, khitraya suka,” Bucky’s hot breath fanned your face as he leaned in. His mouth grazed your jaw, titanium hand on your throat flexing with each syllable. He slowly made his way down your neck, pushing harder into your chest with his forearm. A heavy growl. His grip only tightened as you tried to knee him in the groin, picking you up by your neck and slamming you down again.
Stars circled your blurred vision, eyes rolling back into your head. The corridor, the lights, everything split into two.
“You owe me for my victory, lisitsa,” Bucky’s husky whisper resonated in your ear as he licked the side of your face, his hot, wet mouth against your tear-stained cheek. As his free hand moved to the waistband of your shorts, another surge of panic washed through you. You tried to sputter a weak cry from your closed-off throat, blood turning cold, another scream building and building in your chest and aching for release. 
“You owe me what’s mine –!” 
BANG!
Something from somewhere all of a sudden. The object slammed into Bucky, throwing him off of you and spilling across the floor. 
Finally, your lungs lunged at the chance for air, leaving you a heaving, choking, coughing mess. Spitting at the ground as you made your way shakily to your hands and knees, a freed hand traveling to rub the fresh strangulation bruises forming on the column of your stiff neck. 
“Get the fuck off her, Bucky!” 
Steve.
As your vision cleared, the shield whizzed past you as it ricocheted back into Steve’s open arms. Bucky groaned, low and guttural, but only for a moment is he subdued. Slowly, he rose, like smoke from extinguished ashes, looking to his metal vice. A large dent adorned the weathered, bloodied appendage where his bicep met his shoulder. He then turned his attention to Steve, baring his teeth, anger coursing through him as he immediately disregarded you. His sights set on a new target, launching himself at Steve without a beat lost.
Steve grunted as Bucky’s metal fist met the vibranium shield with a deafening clang. Steve gritted his teeth and pushed back, managing to break Bucky’s attack and aim a kick for his stomach.
“Go! I got him!” Steve yelled to you through a gasp as Bucky countered with his own swipe at Steve’s middle. Your body stayed put, relishing in the ability to fucking breathe again, also painfully aware how screwed you’d be if you didn’t escape as you had the chance. You willed yourself to move, to run and to keep going, to no avail. As Steve landed a blow to Bucky, his eyes met yours once more. His baby blues, pained and tired, begged for you to listen to him for once in your life. 
“Now!”
The strain in Steve’s voice seemed to ignite a fire underneath you. Pushing yourself up, you willed your legs to carry you to the exit. Bloody shoe prints tracked your route as you slammed through the doorway. You cursed, knowing they’ll give away which way you’d go, knowing your life matters more than a twenty-dollar pair of sneakers. Kicking them off, throwing the pair down the exit, praying they made it far enough Bucky wouldn’t know any better. 
You threw yourself up the stars, tremors and pain afflicting every limb as the cold concrete seeped in through your socks in each step. The railing helped as you heaved yourself forward with help from the railing. Sweaty palms slipped on the bars, but your grip only grew tighter. 
You didn’t know how you, or your body, was able to do it, making it up seven more flights of stairs before your knees buckled on level 57. Heaving the door open and slamming it shut, you stumbled out into the new hallway. You hadn’t visited that level before. Something Steve and the others– especially Doctor Banner– said was “just a business floor.”
The sign on the wall directing to ‘SAFELAB’ said otherwise. Nothing in the Tower was “just business.” 
What you did know was that every SAFELAB on every floor was located in the same, far-east hallway. 
Wiping the sweat from your temple, you turned right, jogging down the darkened, emptied-out hallway. It felt like the apocalypse. No sign of anybody else. Doors left ajar, papers and bags and other employee memorabilia scattered throughout abandoned offices and cubicles. You hoped everyone was able to make it out, at least.
Part of you didn’t hope for much, though. 
The door to the lab came into view as you rounded the last corner. The door was still locked, the lab inside sterile and untouched. A sigh of relief escaped you. Holding your palm to the door’s scanner, it answered your prayers in a soft beep and whir, miraculously allowing you in. 
You maneuvered through the multiple security doors, four in total, crouching low once you managed to slip into the lab itself. The gigantic window at the front of the labspace spared no room for you to hide easily, but you had zero room to complain about it. It was your only option, after all.
Well, besides the roof. 
Crouched, you snuck your way around the counters and various equipment to one of the supply closets. The furthest corner from the entrance. You scoured through drawers and cupboards for some sort of weaponry; the most you could find was a new scalpel out of a box of extras. 
You closed in on the supply closet, reaching up and grasping the handle, turning it slowly to prevent any squeaks from the inner hinge. A tear glided down your cheek in relief. You hadn’t realized you started crying. Again. 
The door swung open. It greeted you mostly empty, deep enough for you to cram your body into. Crawling inside, bones and limbs contorted into the most comfortable position you could manage. You pinched the edges of the doors to close them as best as you can, accepting they, in fact, couldn’t close all the way from the inside. A curse under your breath, the sliver of dim light through the crack cast onto your face. Once settled, you crumpled your damp t-shirt up from the collar and shoved the fabric into your mouth. Teeth and tongue greeted sweaty cotton and hints of copper as you bit down on the collar, covering your mouth with a free hand. 
At last, after Gods knew how long it had been since you ceased moving, a silenced sob heaved out of your chest. Tremors only worsened as your nervous system rode out the fumes of its adrenaline high and flight mode instincts. Hot tears spilled down your cheeks, mixing with snot further down your face, slipping down to your neck and leaving behind streaked paths in the bloodied, hand-printed bruises adorned on your flesh. The pain from the near-strangulation you suffered broke through the shock and endorphins that were keeping you sane until then. You knew, though, you couldn’t break down. Not yet. Not until you saw Natasha or Steve or someone you trusted face-to-face. 
You started counting your breaths. Mind racing, thoughts traveling near sonic speeds through your mind carrying questions at how the hell it all happened.
You thought for sure S.H.I.E.L.D. was secure, especially after the ordeal with Bucky, Steve, and the whole ‘defeating HYDRA’ ordeal from a few years back. Hell, you thought it was safer than taking the FBI’s recon mission that was offered to you before being referred to Tony himself. Your mind raced, what-ifs and endless possibilities flashing across your eyes like a snuff film. You hoped Steve was okay. You hoped Natasha was on her way to your location any second. You hoped Sam was safe and made it out okay. You hoped Bucky –
Bucky. 
Christ, you hadn’t even stopped to think about how the hell everything happened to him. He’d been doing so well in his recovery program. Steve was even telling you about it that same morning, bragging about how well Bucky was doing, how much progress he was making, how soon they’d finally be able to move in together once Doctor Banner cleared him. Another sob overtook you. How you’d never seen him like that before, the feeling of his titanium arm slowly crushing your windpipe, the weight of his entire body crushing your internal organs as he’d held you down. The things he’d said. You tried to wrap your head around what he’d said, what he was going to do–
Crashing followed by shattering glass emitted a muffled yelp from you as your blood ran cold. Another wave of tears flooded out of your burning eyes, chest heaving unevenly. Your hand clamped even tighter over your mouth as teeth bit into the salty fabric of your shirt, drying up any more moisture your mouth was grateful to finally have.
BANG! Then another. Then more in rapid succession. Shattering, crashing, shattering, silence. The final blow to the security doors sounded from inside the lab itself. Your breath hitched and bile began bubbling in your stomach, reaching the back of your throat and across your tongue. You forced yourself to swallow the acid, listening intently to the crunch of sneakers on shattered glass.
He’d found you. 
“Lisitsaaa,” Bucky drawled, his voice dropped to a primally low octave. Lower than before. You almost couldn’t make out the words, a mixture of growled mumblings of English and Russian. Knees folded closer to your chest, you tightened your grip on the handle of the scalpel. Bucky’s footsteps were slow, methodical, predatorial. 
His heavy steps inched closer, each followed by a pause, then sudden crashing of lab equipment and smashing of drawers. More glass and metal slammed to the ground and walls after each pause. He sounded feet away. Then inches. 
Your breathing stopped as the sliver of light clouded over. The lump in your throat threatened more puke to rise as you dared to peer up through the crack, heart dropping like a dead weight to your stomach as your eyes fell on freshly bloodied sneakers. A stifled scream in your lungs choked you. You refused to think about whose blood that was.
Eyes darted back up. You could see Bucky’s blurred features clouded in shadows. The only light visible, then, was the glint from his wicked smile. Bloodied teeth shone as he licked his lips hungrily, a predator finally cornering its prey. 
Ever so slowly he crouched, shoving his face closer into the seam in the door. Tears and snot continued to stream down your face, your body hyperventilating as you forced yourself to look into his eyes. There was nothing else you could do. Nothing else to say, to cry about. There was nowhere left to run. He got you. 
“There you are, moy priz,” Bucky hissed before reaching through and throwing the doors open, heavy hands leaving imprints in the flimsy metal. Frozen, your fist was still closed around the scalpel, your muscles tensed as joints locked in place. His evil eyes scanned your body greedily, looking for which cut of meat to divulge in first. His gaze stopped at your fist and he chuckled, tisking in a disappointed tone. 
“Oh, glupaya pizda,” Bucky shook his head, amused at your meager choice of weaponry. Compared to him, you might as well have been waving a white flag. His smile only grew, tongue jutting out to lick his lips. Specks of blood coated the sides of his cheeks and edges of his mouth, smeared about from ear to ear with the back of his hand.
“Come with me and they might consider your life, lisitsa–”
You sprung into him, swinging your arm, landing the scalpel into the middle of his flesh hand, impaling straight through it. In an instant, blood spewed from the impact. Bucky screamed out in pain, a slew of mixed language curses reverberating in your skull. You scrambled out of your hiding place, bashing him with a balled fist to the face as you tumbled out and onto your feet, sprinting to the lab’s only exit. Freedom was only an arm’s length away when an overturned stool tripped you. The impact didn’t hurt near as much as the millions of shattered glass bits shredded cut into your skin, your hands and knees and arms and face littered as blood smeared under you and across the once-sterile white floors. You cried out, writhing around. Battered and bloodied, struggling to rise and run again despite the searing pain in your ankle.
Before you could form your next thought, a rough hand snatched your scalp and dragged you up by your hair. You uttered a panicked scream as Bucky hoisted you to eye level, snarling like a rabid dog as he shook you hard.
“I thought you were smarter than that, lisitsa,” he sneered, “but I was wrong.”
He hurled you back onto the floor, his bloodied, titanium fist still gripping your hair, dragging you over to one of the disheveled lab tables. More glass shredded your skin, blood and sweat and tears mixing and pouring over your face and hands and body. With ease and a free hand, he swiped the rest of the contents off another counter; beakers and burners crashed to the floor. His grip tightened as he threw you up onto the stainless steel counter, the dead weight of your body banging onto the table, landing you hard on your back. Eardrums rang into your skull and jaw, radiating down your spine and out your limbs. Your hands slip against the smooth metal from the blood, futile attempts to grab onto something, anything. You groaned and huffed excess sobs. The pain, unbearable; the fear, unimaginable. 
Bucky hoisted himself onto the table, landing on top of your broken body, his knee hitting your spine and knocking your last breath out of you. Straddling you, his thick thighs bulged through tattered sweatpants, squeezing into your rib cage. He looped another fist into your hair, raising your head and slamming it down. The side of your face smushed into the steel table, smearing around more blood as he did it again. And again. The cartilage in your nose cracked and throbbing pain radiated into your eyes, your skull. Warmth from the break and the blood poured over your face. The pain, dulling into numbness as you began to fade in and out of consciousness.
Your vision started to blur and blacken, stars and specks orbiting around Bucky like a halo of hallucination. Your body, finally surrendering to him. No fight left. Any strength you could have mustered, funneled into staying awake, proved useless. 
A new sound, then: ripping.
You didn’t have to look to witness Bucky unrelentingly tear your t-shirt away from your body, training his eyes on your open form. Bruised skin exposed to cool air, your chest still momentarily held together by your sports bra. He made quick work of it next, the nylon snapping off in one swipe, sending goosebumps racing down your spine. 
Ice-cold titanium fingers untangled from your matted hair and made their way from your nape, to the small of your back, to the waistband of your gym shorts. Muscles tensed as you felt each digit wrap almost leisurely onto the elastic. He tore them away swiftly, baring the rest of you and your skin to him. A growl, one of pleasure, vibrated into you from him, emitted he palmed the skin of your ass. His fingers journeyed languidly in a slow trail from your back to your core. You squirmed, wasting the last of your strength, a hopeless attempt to get away one last time. 
A crack came across your face. Flesh against flesh, he slapped you. A punishment. A command for obedience. Your body fell limp. Breathing raggedly and gagging on blood and spit, you shuddered as he took your wrists and tied them together with your t-shirt. 
Satisfied, his prey finally submitting, Bucky paused, panting as he leaned down to you. He wet his lips before speaking, gruff words slurred against your ringing eardrum. As he spoke, cold metal grazed your entrance, a threat of what was to come. 
“Now, I get to take what’s mine.”
Your screams echoed as the world fell dark.
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Hey, love the post you make about obscure disabilities. Could you make/ have you made about dysgraphia?
Sure. This will be my post for disability pride month tomorrow. Which I'm posting now because I don't have the spoons to schedule it for tomorrow.
I hope you don't mind I turn this into a combo one because I have a hard time mentally processing one of these conditions without understanding all three.
(Obligatory I do not have any of these conditions. This is not meant to be a diagnostic tool. Please do your own research. I'm only answering a question that was asked of me and it's really hard for me to explain one of these without explaining all of the similar conditions to differentiate them.)
And I hope that you don't mind my poorer language skills right now I'm recovering from a server sinus headache I've had all day.
Dyslexia vs Dyscalculia vs Dysgraphia (bonus round Dyspraxia)
These issues have like, a 30% comorbidity rate. So if you have one there's a 30% chance you'll have either of the others. People with conditions may be perceived as "slow" but they are not intellectual disabilities (Not that there's nothing wrong with intellectual disabilities. I'm just pointing it out because people will say "you can't have dyslexia. You're so smart.")
But the fact that they're comorbid and often comorbid with autism and adhd causes some misunderstandings around the conditions because people think they have one condition and attribute all of their issues to the one condition with no knowledge that its not just one condition they're expressing.
Dyslexia
Dyslexia is characterized by the limited processing and comprehension of graphic symbols, particularly those regarding language. People with it have poor reading skills, flipping letter sequences and words, and poor handwriting. Although it is a learning disability, it's important to note that dyslexia does not impact a person's intelligence, although they may seem slower due to poor language processing skills. (There's nothing wrong with disabilities that impact intelligence, I just don't want people saying "he can't be dyslexic because he's so smart".)
Many representations of dyslexia often exhibit letters tap dancing across the page, shape shifting, and doing backflips. It's important to note that these are incorrect representations, because it's really hard to give a visual representation of what people with dyslexia experience. However, it's really harmful to express dyslexia in this fashion as it leads to people thinking that they don't have dyslexia when they actually do.
As I understand it, dyslexia is the eyes/ brain being able to flow seamlessly when reading large blocks of text. Ways to combat this is cut out a strip to block off lines when you read them. Use a highlighted strip of paper to highlight lines as you read them.
Fun fact, there's a few fonts that space the letters well enough and differentiate similar letters enough that make it easier to read. Comic Sans font is the most widely accessible accessibility tool for dyslexic people as it's one of the easy to read fonts that on every machine. (These accessibility tools have proven to make everyone read faster, dyslexia or no. But people with dyslexia have found them instrumentalin functioning. )
Another fun fact. Rick Riordan wrote Lightning Thief so that his dyslexic son could have representation in a character that had the same disability as him.
Dyscalculia
Dyscalculia is often called "math dyslexia". People with Dyscalculia have issues with numbers. They have poor math skills, issues interpreting graphs, issues doing basic arithmetic, issues understanding things like place value, issues understanding time especially when it comes to reading an analog clock, and issues seeing patterns. This often causes a high level of anxiety around math. Some reports say these people have issues with directions, remembering locations, and reading maps (though research is inconsistent on that one).
Dysgraphia
Dysgraphia is easy to mix up with dyslexia, which is why I needed to write all these out. Where dyslexia is difficulty reading. Dysgraphia is difficulty writing. Symptoms include difficulty writing words, expressing thoughts in written form, and organizing and processing your thoughts. This can cause issues with social communication for obvious reasons.
These people also may have fine motor perception issues, writing in a straight line, spacing their letters correctly, etc. Especially fine motor skills around writing. They may also have issues with grammar, punctuation, and capitalization.
Bonus Round:
Dyspraxia
This one gets mixed with dyslexia two. Dyspraxia is issues with spacial awareness. They often say they can't tell where their limbs are in space. They may have issues with coordination, walking in a straight line, and balance. It's very hard for me to conceptualize, but people that have it may say that they bang their limbs against things due to poor spacial awareness. Which honestly, relatable. I've slammed me calf into a door before. And my shoulder blade. How? Good question.
These people have issues in social situations because their entire focus will be on their coordination, not making a mess, and not making a fool of themselves, etc. Their issues actually get better when they drink because the stress of sucked situations makes it worse and alcohol loosens them up. (I'm not advocating for drinking, but saying that the issues resolving when your drink validates your dyspraxia, not invalidates it.)
I think a lot of people that know of the condition may think people with low depth perception have dyspraxia. A lot of people have told me they think I have dyspraxia because my lack of depth perception negatively impacts my spacial awareness.
-fae
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Crazy In Love
[eren jaeger boyfriend headcanons]
Tumblr media
pairing // eren jaeger x black! reader
content // y/n in their loner arc, some nsfw mostly fluff, stoner! eren, mechanic! eren, streamer/gamer! eren, swearing, spoilers for s4 bc there are some ppl who haven’t watched yet
a/n // been getting back into my aot obsession
applies to both modern and canon eren
this is more of a drabble than a one shot but if you want more of this au. . .shawty all you gotta do is ask
gender isn’t really mentioned but eren’s stream does call you mommy at one point, just ignore it otherwise
streamer! eren is in the works rn tbh
——————————✩———————————
ੈ✩ | so modern/high school eren pre time skip is an absolute menace
ੈ✩ | he behaved for a week and then all that went out the window when jean said something under his breath
ੈ✩ | genuinely has anger issues, adhd, and depression—which he tends to show through unbridled rage
ੈ✩ | you’d be lying if you said he didn’t catch your eye; he was attractive and was in a trio when you ain’t even got one true friend. but he had three, and he didn’t seem to need or even want any more
ੈ✩ | that’s why it is so fucking hard to get close to this nigga; there were times he was such a dick to you for no reason—if it’s any consolation he feels like shit about that and ten times out of ten it never had anything to do with you
ੈ✩ | gremlin eren? gremlin eren
ੈ✩ | this nigga can never shut up, and while mikasa is the number one person who gets him to stop acting up, she gets ACTIVE when he’s in a losing fight
ੈ✩ | eventually he got in trouble so much that his ass got expelled, his father—after trying literally everything else, got him a medical marijuana card—mans said “bet” and never stopped since
ੈ✩ | OKAY NOW MODERN MANBUN EREN—in the time that he was gone, mikasa and armin took you under their wing, becoming your first real friends; and as they made you comfortable, you started coming into your own more
ੈ✩ | you’d heard about eren’s whereabouts, and knew they talked to him about you, but you always refused to talk to him when given the chance because there was a time where you GENUINELY thought he hated you
ੈ✩ | everyone on tumblr says he’s a stoner and i have no choice but to agree—like that’s why he’d be so mellowed out, and with no titans he’d be the coolest mf out there
ੈ✩ | then when mikasa found out you had a thing for him since freshmen year she finally gets the gang back together four years later—she 100% snitched and bro. . .you almost didn’t recognize him as he walked into the karaoke bar
ੈ✩ | he’d grown his hair out—he had just grown in general, shooting from 5’11 to 6’3, and he’s gotten some tattoos as well
ੈ✩ | your jaw went slack as you gaped at mikasa who only gave you knowing glance
ੈ✩ | not only that, but his voice has gotten an unbelievable amount of bass to it—you almost zoned out every-time it was his turn to sing
ੈ✩ | eren knows how short life is—and he goes after what he wants—he always has, but tbh younger eren never had romantic interest and for the longest time he was a closeted aromantic—getting off-topic but that changed as he grew and he asked you out immediately on a count of what i said before
ੈ✩ | guy is still aromantic but does experience love (though mostly platonic) for very few people,
ੈ✩ | because of that, his confession is the most genuine thing you’ve ever heard—“i didn’t realize it then, but i’d always felt different about you”
“you’re so precious, and sweet and kind—and you’re so fucking good to others, and i thought it was a prank or something when you tried to talk to me—but fuck, when mikasa told me you used to like me, i couldn’t miss the opportunity so i gotta ask. . .”
“would you go out with me?”—and coming from the dude you’ve been crushing on for years and being a person who no one has ever expressed romantic interest to over things you can’t control, you did in fact start crying
ੈ✩ | because he’s so hard to get close to, he’s had many pick-me’s try—even in his gremlin arc—thinking they was in a romance webtoon; jumping in while he was beating the shit out of whoever—“eren, look at me! this isn’t you!”
ੈ✩ | fuck your insecurities about that though because eren is literally the sweetest and most affirming person out there once you get to know him
ੈ✩ | surprisingly a hopeless romantic—only for you—he’s your biggest supporter and he simps so hard. your first date is a picnic, he asked jean—after he apologized and they formed a friendship—to help him throw together a little spread for you
ੈ✩ | he’s absolutely in love with you and will do anything for you
ੈ✩ | your race has so little bearing on your relationship but every once in a while he’ll randomly remember he’s got a melanated lover—and what new circumstances that brings
ੈ✩ | like when he’ll just a get a call a from you at three a.m and answers thinking he’s gonna get some ass and you just start crying
“babe i’ve been doing my hair since 10 p.m and it’s not even halfway done—and i’m so fucking tired but if i. . .” you sniffle, “if i go to sleep now i can’t go to class because my hair looks like shit”
“babe, what are you talking about, why is it—?”
he eventually comes over because he’s so confused as to what’s taking so long, but after he offered to help you and he made you cry even more he understood—nigga broke a sweat tryna wrangle that shit
y’all gave up and decided to miss out on class and tackle it in the morning; he helps you wrap it up and you guys—despite saying you were tired for an hour you could go to sleep so just watched coryxkenshin until the sun came up
ੈ✩ | he’s not only white, but he’s white-european he simply does not understand these things
ੈ✩ | but the fact that he makes an effort to understand your culture in the first place will literally make you cry sometimes—like you can visibly see him fighting his adhd so he can listen to you talk about your hair or what a ‘black card’ is and you always reward him with a kiss for listening to you
ੈ✩ | once he gets it though he’s hard chilling. you notice he started to use more aave; and he started paying for you to get your hair done bc he’s a trust fund kid, and he will always respect the amount of effort that goes into it. he’s also like, super into using aave and slang—he uses it more than you, and even knows the uncle ruckus joke despite NEVER watching boondocks in his life; he doesn’t think he’s black but. . .y’know. and it only gets worse when he meets your family
ੈ✩ | your mother LOVES him, and is constantly telling you that she wants him as her son-in-law, he’s repsectful, handsome, strong, and hard-working—she will literally never forgive you if you let him go
ੈ✩ | EREN. JAEGER. AT. A. COOKOUT.
ੈ✩ | if it’s his first one he’s super jittery and nervous at first. but eren’s a super chill dude so if you have to leave him alone he’ll be cool with anyone
ੈ✩ | your uncles wanna sit in the driveway and pop a cold one? sign him up. your little cousins/siblings swear they can beat him in mario kart? they fucking wish, your aunts wanna sit and talk shit—he was doing that anyway—he’s a super friendly person and he gets along well with anyone
ੈ✩ | will literally film tiktoks with you at the family cookout despite hating having pictures or videos taken of him—he sees how happy you are so he doesn’t care
ੈ✩ | i feel like eren has a very physical job and streams part time for funsies. so yeah when he tells your family that he’s a mechanic when they ask they literally erupt
ੈ✩ | because he’s so hard-working, your aunts love him—constantly making him plates and taking care of him and such
ੈ✩ | and if you have any messy in-laws that try to talk shit or get with him he will deadass call them out
all those years of playing COD made his trash talk elite. . .shit. . .
“how you gon’ talk about my baby when your edges ain’t laid?”
“get your fucking teeth straight before you talk shit”
ੈ✩ | it’s the fact that he did not stop—like homegirl deadass was on the brink of tears and had to leave; nobody liked her anyway so he was good
ੈ✩ | jacked as fuck so just casually holds you down when he doesn’t want you to leave
ੈ✩ | demands kisses at all times; good morning kiss, goodnight kiss, hello kiss, good bye kiss, or just because you’re looking too damn fine
ੈ✩ | shows you off on stream.
“eren, baby—oh shit, are you streaming? my fault” your heart drops as you see yourself in the viewfinder, and you back out of the room—hiding yourself behind the door
“hang on guys—oh no babe, you’re fine”
you thought you had embarrassed him by pulling up in your pajamas but the chat was in love
you hesitantly inch closer as the chat continues to go wild
‘mommy? sorry, mommy?”
‘GAHHDAMN 🥲🕶️👌”
‘oh they fine alright”
“what did you wanna tell me?” he takes off his headset, giving you his undivided attention.
“i was gonna tell you to stop screaming”
“oh damn, you coulda kept that to yourself then” his face stiffened, half-heartedly and he turned back to the game
chuckling, you begin to walk away,
“wait~” he whines, “come here” his voice lowers as you walk toward him, already knowing what he was going to ask
you give him a kiss and pull away very quickly because you know eren too well
“i love you,” his whispers against your lips, “i love you too”
you say goodbye to his viewer and head out to continue your studies
“that’s my lover” you hear him state proudly as you closed the door
ੈ✩ | ngl, i feel like canon! eren pre-timeskip would mostly act the exact same
ੈ✩ | it’d be a little easier to win him over though. since you’re ‘different’ his curiosity draws him to you, and your perseverance and skill is something that’s warrants his respect
ੈ✩ | what’s that belief that life-threatening situations brings people together? that helps too
ੈ✩ | he starts off barely even saying two words to you and now you’ll both protect each other with your lives by the events of season two
ੈ✩ | LIKE JUST IMAGINE THE SCENE WHEN HE DISCOVERS HE HOLDS THE COORDINATE; like you and mikasa are not in good shape so he’s so determined to protect you—and you and mikasa have resigned to your fates but he’s like
“i’ll keep looking after you”
“now and forever, whenever you need me”
ੈ✩ | screaming crying and throwing up
ੈ✩ | or the scene where he takes back the wall in his titan form—and you immediately tackle him as soon as he’s comes staggering out of the nape,
“you did it eren!”
ੈ✩ | most def, especially after that scene from s3—his crush on you is very obvious—like let’s say you pushed mika out of the way and you got your ribs broken instead of her; when you guys make it to that little cabin, he’s literally putting in work to make sure you don’t have to move an inch—chopping firewood, helping make dinner, even volunteering to stand watch or staying up all night in case you need him—but of course you would still come out to check on him
“he’s like a hardworking husband and they’re his doting partner” historia would smile as she watched you two interact
ੈ✩ | eren would spend years pining for you without realizing it until the he almost lost you—be it to the titans or another man
ੈ✩ | he gets the help he needs to confess from the guys who screw him over—not entirely on purpose, but he ends up humiliating himself in front of you; the next day he’s avoiding you like he’s insane until you eventually just blurt out that you like him back
ੈ✩ | i lowkey feel like eren would be way too romantic or so lowkey people have no idea you’re dating—shit not even you knew for like a month
ੈ✩ | deadass, it took this nigga pulling up with a bouquet of flowers claiming it was for your anniversary and you just blinked at him
“are we not dating. . . ?”
ੈ✩ | pre time-skip eren is when he’s the most affectionate but even then he literally only pipes up when you’re in danger
ੈ✩ | you see a different side of him in his titan form—even though he doesn’t have the capacity for speech, his eyes tell you all you need to know.
ੈ✩ | he mellows out a lot because this is the only form he’s in where he feels like nothing can hurt you—he’s untouchable and so are you. so he’s generally a lot softer in this form
ੈ✩ | he’s like a big puppy, responding positively and humming when you scratch his head
ੈ✩ | if you don’t like saliva do NOT do missions with titan! eren. nigga literally just puts you in his mouth for cover when the spot gets too hot
ੈ✩ | and if you EVER get kidnapped for any reason eren is activating his titan form—even if the perpetrators are human he could not give a fuck—he’s already not a cautious person but he really do be wilding when it comes to you, that’s why levi tried to keep you separate before realizing that it only makes it worse.
ੈ✩ | now post time-skip canon! eren. . .bro ima be fr, that nigga is so confusing
ੈ✩ | like let’s say you didn’t know him prior and were just a jaegerist, it was genuinely so difficult to tell if he was just manipulating you or not
ੈ✩ | even when he swore up and down that he loves you—you couldn’t help but wonder if he was just saying that because he knew if you thought he cared about you, you’d be willing to do just about anything for him
ੈ✩ | now is that actually true. . . ?
maybe.
ੈ✩ | but if you knew him since childhood he’s a lot easier to read, like you were just calling bullshit when he was gaslighting mikasa and armin in that one scene—even if he tried that on you, you were not having it
ੈ✩ | he’d gladly abandon everything for you if you caught the signs quick enough, but even after he already declared war on the marlyeans, he’d still give you many chances to save him
ੈ✩ | he’s the boy who sought freedom, but he finds solace in your presence and knowing you care for him. so if you tell him you love him he will deadass just take your hand and beg you to run away with him
ੈ✩ | if you say yes—which you will—bc c’mon now, he’ll build you two a little cottage up in the mountains and live the rest of his days with you, enjoying the simple life he’d always dreamed of with the person he loves more than anything
ੈ✩ | thinking about cottage au! eren rn AHHH
ੈ✩ | now if you decide to play the anarchy route i’m sure y’all will make a great terrorist power couple
y’all some real
💅 ✨ 💖 sassy shooters 💖✨💅
i don’t actually condone this but go off ig
ੈ✩ | also generally, he’s more a physical kinda guy, so don’t feel awkward about sitting on his lap while he’s meeting with volunteers and fellow jaegerists
ੈ✩ | sometimes, you wake up to him crying quietly beside you and you always scoot over and start spooning him
ੈ✩ | every once in awhile he’ll say things that remind you of the old eren, and it makes you wanna cry every time
ੈ✩ | you still love him though, and are willing to wait for him to come around
ੈ✩ | if you die in the war though, it’s up. he’s gonna keep going forward and won’t stop until he’s dead
ੈ✩ | he loves you so much, good god you’re so heavenly
alright people NSFW time so head out if you’re not interested
ੈ✩ | so modern eren! remember how i said he was a mechanic? somehow whenever he comes home, one of you is always frustrated. like imagine you were already missing him, and he gets home and his shirt is off, his skin is glowing and hes got oil smudges painting random patches of his coveralls
“eren—“ you very loudly gulp; you had just wanted to greet your loving boyfriend with his favorite snack but when you saw him in all his glory you really couldn’t help it
ੈ✩ | eren literally always knows when you want something from him; whether it’s because he’s good at detecting it, or you’re just bad at hiding it is up for debate but he clocks you either way
ੈ✩ | but eren, being the cheeky bastard he is, makes you say it. being shy isn’t very fruitful when it comes to him
ੈ✩ | now if he’s the horny one, it’s on fucking sight yo—and there’s no running away, the longer he’s away from you, the more frustrated he becomes
“ah—! eren,” you’re preparing dinner one minute and being bent over the counter the next “—need you” he whines
ੈ✩ | yeah, mans gets v whiny when he’s desperate for it
ੈ✩ | no if ands or buts about it, eren jaeger is a nasty man—regardless of what universe he’s in
ੈ✩ | into spit, vouyerism, and all the other dirty and nasty ass shit
ੈ✩ | into anal anything—even on himself, like if you sneak down to give him a rim job while giving oral he will become so whiny
ੈ✩ | will let you peg or finger him if you’ve got the guts to dom him
ੈ✩ | his moans are something else bro
ੈ✩ | HE’S SO AFFIRMING; “go ahead baby, you can ride” “don’t be shy look at me—pretty eyes on me, on me” “fuck yes, make yourself feel good on my cock” “fuck, you’re perfect”
“i love you so much”
“fuck, are you okay? yeah? okay, gonna move”
ੈ✩ | fuck, he loves mirror sex
ੈ✩ | he’ll let you ride for as long as you want sweetheart, and when you inevitably get tired he’ll buck his hips into yours, laying you down before shifting so he could thrust up more comfortably
ੈ✩ | you don’t notice, but he pays a lot of attention to what he’s doing during sex and will constantly look up to catch your reactions when he makes a strategic change of angles as he blows your back out
ੈ✩ | so yeah he knows your body like the back of his hand
ੈ✩ | SPEAKING OF WHICH, HIS HANDS BRO OML, HE HAS THE PRETTIEST FUCKING HANDS, like they’re calloused but slender and long with a pink hue dusted over his knuckles
ੈ✩ | he would rock you on his fingers while he’s gaming because you were lonely. and because you were so good he fucks you after
ੈ✩ | so canon! eren. . .bro first of all, whoever called eren’s titan form hot. get out, bc like i’m a closeted monsterfucker but how would it work? homeboy ain’t got no lips, no dick—and even if he did it’d literally kill you.
ੈ✩ | the only thing i could think of is him covering you with his tongue or you rubbing against one of his fingers
ੈ✩ | he lets out a lot of aggression on you; sometimes he’ll even cry against you—mans just gets really emotional when he can see your face
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petite-gloom · 6 months
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Hi Megan, you’re one of the only autistic people in their 20s that I know, so I hope it’s ok to ask this, sorry it’s so long. I just found out I’m autistic (and quite possibly ADHD - awaiting dx) and that the shyness is actually Anxiety. I’m 24. I have a degree from university but have been unemployed for the past two years. I feel so worthless, everything seems futile? But I’m starting to realise why typical 9-5 office jobs aren’t the best fit for me - like sure, I could push through every day and get the work done but it drains me so much. I’ve been trying to figure out the things that bring me autistic joy - reading, art, playing piano, and makeup are a few things. But I’ve really been struggling to find out how to make these a career, or if I even should rely on these things to make money, lest they suck the joy out of it. I’m grateful to be able to live with my parents, but part of me feels like I’m being a burden by not bringing in some income/contributing financially. Do you have any advice/suggestions for me? I’ve been entertaining the idea of creating a YouTube channel, but worry that the anxiety and ADHD will keep me from being consistent or successful. I appreciate any feedback you may have. Thank you ❤️‍🩹 I hope you’re okay 🥹
i really wish i had something helpful to offer, but i'm not sure i do. i'm only two years older than you (26) and obviously work from home doing art, but i also live with a parent and struggle a lot behind the scenes. one thing i really want to give you a heads up on is that (depending on channel size), youtube doesn't really pay a lot- with just shy of 60k subscribers and 10-20k views per video (one video a week) i usually only make around £400 a month (sometimes a little more, sometimes a little less). the amounts fluctuate, don't match your estimated earnings, and are only updated accurately within adsense around 2 days before you get paid. it's not a stable or reliable way to make a living, which is why most youtubers have additional work and income streams. £400 is obviously still £400 and im very grateful to be able to add it to the household bills/groceries etc but it obviously isn't an amount that allows me to live independently, and the fluctuating nature of the payment amounts makes it hard to rely on for anything recurring. it's also a lot of work behind the scenes, and i do find it very difficult during weeks when im feeling more anxious or my mood is low. i don't say this to be discouraging (majority of the time, it's really fun to make videos!) but i just want to be real about what it's like as a small autistic youtuber.
it's hard to suggest other options because i don't know you personally- the level of your skills, how much support you need, how much rest, etc. people tell me there's money to be made on tiktok, so maybe that's something you could consider for makeup and/or piano (the videos are shorter so i wonder if it would be a little better for anxiety/adhd)? could you offer classes for either of these things? could you sell digital art? is there any part time work along the theme of your degree? i had a weekend job at a garden centre that i enjoyed for a long time, so maybe you could find something super chill with smaller hours that would pay a bit- a book or coffee shop?
i wish it was easier and that i had more suggestions but to be honest im always thinking the same- how can i make more to help? how can i make enough to be independent? how can i survive as an autistic person? what will my future look like? and i don't really have any of the answers, much to the horror of my own increasing anxiety. but i hope you can find something fulfilling to work on that pays a little. i hope you can find something that helps you feel as though you're contributing to your household. maybe you could express your concerns to your parents, and see if there are other ways to contribute? i know you mentioned financially, but things like cooking, cleaning, grocery shopping (if you don't already) can be nice ways to help support the household while they're working. my dad cooks and does the dishes, but i do a lot of the cleaning, and have recently taken over ordering and paying for groceries. he's autistic too, and this helps free up some of his mental space.
i don't know if any of this is helpful, but i hope it is. even if it isn't, please know that you're not alone in these concerns, or in this issue. i think it's a difficulty that all autistic people face as they age. we have different needs, often limited abilities, and it's very difficult to stay afloat in a world that is increasingly expensive, where you're expected to be able to work for more hours than you rest. i wish it was a bit easier for everyone. i wish things weren't so hard for disabled people especially
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With you, everything's okay (USWNT x ADHD Reader)
This is part 3 of the ADHD reader series. It's kinda long, but hope you enjoy!
Part one
Part two
Words: 4.6K
Due to the Adderall shortage I didn't have much of my medication, which was not great. I was supposed to get a refill a couple of days ago, but I wasn't able to yet. It could be a few days, weeks or months until I got more. Given what's been on the news, it was something I had anticipated so I had a few days worth for when I really needed it. I had a doctors appointment next week to try figure out a different medication, but I was almost tempted to just not do it. When I first got medication for my ADHD it was a long process of dose adjustments, and dealing with side effects. It was mentally and physically draining. It was something I didn't really want to go through again. The headaches and sleepless nights when I didn't take it were bad enough. Though I didn't know how I would cope long term without it. 
We had just started another month long camp which made this whole thing just a bit more difficult. Ally wasn't with me and I wasn't sure if or when she would be able to visit. For now I was trying to distract myself. I had spent hours so far scouring the internet and going from jeweler to jeweler with Ali trying to find the perfect ring for Ally. None of them were good enough or matched who Ally was. She didn't like fancy rings with big stones or really any stones. She preferred more plain, flush bands with maybe a tiny stone. Ally deserved more than a plain band though. I just had to find the perfect one. 
For the third or maybe fourth time I had dragged Ali out shopping with me. It had probably been hours and I still hadn't found anything that was right. I was starting to get frustrated when Ali literally dragged me away from the mall to the park across the road. 
"You need to take a break."
"But-"
"No, you're getting frustrated and irritable so we're taking a break."
My eyes started to water as I hid my face in my hands, "I just want to find the ring she deserves Ali."
Ali sat down beside me, pulling me into her side, "I know and we will. It'll just take some time, it's only been a few weeks since you got engaged. Have you looked into custom design rings?"
I had gotten Ally a cheap ring in the mean time, but I hated that she had to wait for a proper one. "I didn't even think of that."
We went back to the hotel after getting lunch. Since Ali mentioned it, I was itching to look into designer rings. I had briefly on my phone, but Ali quickly stopped me so I would actually eat. It was a free day so I locked myself in my room quickly going down the rabbit hole of custom rings. I spent hours comparing different companies and small businesses, calling or emailing them to figure out more around pricing and what type of designs they could do. I ended up finding a small business that could get it done in about 2-3 weeks once the design was decided on. 
The design was the next thing I got lost in. I wanted to get it done as soon as possible so Ally could finally get the ring to go with the proposal. There were a couple of ideas that I was playing around with, but it was hard to choose just one. I don't know how long it had been when my phone rang breaking me out of my fixation. Of course it was a facetime from Ally, her ringtone always brought me back to reality. 
Hey baby
Hi
What's got you so distracted that you didn't even look at me? I miss my beautiful smile
I laughed, quickly glancing at her, involuntary smile stretching across my face,Nothing, sorry
Right, I'll pretend I believe you. Did you eat?
It's not dinner yet
Baby, it's 9pm where you are.
No it's no- Oh shit, I got distracted
Ally giggled, the sound making my heart skip a beat. I wished she was here. I figured, Ali is going to bring you something since I know you won't leave whatever it is you're doing.
Thank you Al. Can I ask you something?
Anything
If you had to pick one thing from our relationship, date, holiday, whatever really, what's your favourite thing?
That's a hard one. Do you remember our snowboarding trip?
Our first trip together was a snow boarding trip. We hadn't been together very long and we ended up getting snowed in with no power for 2 nights. All we could do was read, cuddle, play board games, talk and try to keep the fire going. Ally and I had connected from the start, but that trip was a sort of turning point in our relationship. We got to know each other on a deeper level, telling each other all the intimate and deep parts of ourselves. That was when I told her about my adhd, my family, how they acted and how I felt growing up. 
It was the first time I ever cried in front of her. There had been a sense of shame wash over me. I wasn't one to cry in front of people, it had been ingrained in me since I was young. Ally had just held me tightly, whispering reassurances then making me laugh harder then I had in a long time. She had never judged me about anything. Sure, occasionally she would tell me I was being stupid, but she always had my back.
Where's that head of yours baby?
Sorry, I was just thinking back to that trip. It was a disaster, but I loved that trip.
Me too. I think that's my favourite
There was a knock on the door before I could reply. My stomach growled when I saw the food Ali was holding. I hadn't realised how hungry I actually was. In all honesty, I probably wouldn't have eaten if Ali hadn't shown up with food,  "Thank you Ali."
"You're welcome. I'm just glad someone could get through to you. We've all been texting and calling you, even knocked on the door. We figured you were asleep or completely zoned out."
"You got Ally to call me?"
"She was already going to. I just asked if she had heard from you. I didn't want to wake you up if you were asleep, I know the last couple of days have been hard."
"I appreciate that. I got stuck into that thing we were talking about. I'll show you later."
Ally and I continued to talk while I kept working on the design and she started to fall asleep. I stayed on the phone with her even after she fell asleep. We had always slept on facetime together when we were apart. It made us feel closer when we couldn't be. 
By time 4am rolled around I had finally finished the design idea. I had done a rough sketch, but also described my idea so the person could adjust if needed to what they could do. My design idea was mountains that wrapped around the entire band. A textured sky to resemble a snowy day with a small set diamond to look like the moon and hopefully someway to make the mountains look like it was covered in snow. I didn't know if it was completely possible, but even something remotely like that would be okay. I quickly sent it off before I could overthink and change my mind. I was very glad that we had another day off tomorrow. 
---
"Ally!" I ran, jumping in her arms and hugging her tightly. "What are you doing here?"
"Thought I would surprise you again."
"Not that I don't love that you're here, but aren't you busy at work?"
"I am, but I can work remotely now."
"You can? Wait, you got the promotion?" Ally nodded, huge smile on her face as I picked her up and spun her around, kissing her hard. "Oh my god, this is amazing. You are amazing. I am so fucking proud of you Ally."
The girls wandered into the lobby, greeting Ally with quick hugs, "Guys! Ally got the promotion!"
Some of the girls practically jumped on Ally telling her how proud they were. They had even dragged her out for dinner that night saying that we had to celebrate her achievement. Some even going as far as doing speeches. I loved how much they adored Ally, how they had welcomed her into the team without hesitation. 
We were lying in bed that night, wrapped up in each other. I brushed a piece of hair out of her face before kissing her softly, "I really am so proud of you Ally. You're amazing. You've worked so hard for this, you deserve this."
"Thank you Y/n. I couldn't have done it without your love and constant support even if my job bores you."
"Yeah well, for you I will go through all the boring shit in life a million times over." I kissed her softly before sighing, "I'm sorry Al."
Ally's forehead creased as her eyebrows drew together, "What are you apologising for?"
"I'm sorry that it's been weeks since I proposed and I haven't gotten you a proper ring yet. You deserve the perfect ring and I'm sorry you don't have it yet."
She smiled softly, cupping my cheek and making me look at her, "Do you remember what I said when you asked me to marry you?" I shook my head. All I remembered was her saying yes and being very excited. "I told you that I don't care about a ring and I meant it. If this was the only ring you got me, I wouldn't care. All I care about is being with you okay?"
"I love you Ally so fucking much. I just- Your ring is on the way, I just don't know when it'll get here."
"It's okay, I already know I'll love it."
---
Arms wrapped around me from behind, kisses being placed along my jaw. I turned my head, connecting our lips in a long kiss as I pulled her round to my lap. Ally squealed against my lips, giving me the opportunity to slip my tongue into her mouth. A breathy moan slipped from Ally as our tongues met. After a couple of seconds, Ally's fingers dug into my shirt as she pushed me away, "We're in the meal room."
"That can be changed besides no one else is here."
"I have a meeting in half an hour so stop being a horndog and show me what had you so focused."
"You can't blame me, you know what your work clothes do to me." 
I had been looking at different wedding themes on Pinterest, but I was struggling to find ones that might actually suit Ally and I. We were very simple people, we didn't need anything fancy to be happy. We weren't traditional either. It was something we used to make jokes about, how we would go the complete opposite way, have some random colour instead of white, casual clothes and a barbeque. Just one big party. I didn't know what we were actually going to do. When we talked about it, it was just an idea, far off in the future. Now it was a reality and I was so excited to marry Ally. I knew we actually had to talk about when we wanted to do it, but I couldn't wait to marry her. 
I turned my computer so Ally could see, "Anyway, I'm looking at wedding ideas. We should talk about when we want to do it, soon, sooner, soonish, far away, somewhere in the middle. I mean, I'm really fucking excited to marry you, but if you wan-"
"Okay baby, take a breath. You just named three times that are pretty much the same and aren't actually times."
"Sorry, I'm just excited. You know I never thought I would want to get married, let alone be this excited about it."
Ally wrapped her arms around me, kissing my temple, "I know Y/n/n. Don't apologise for being excited, I never meant to make it sound like a bad thing. Trust me, I can't wait to marry you and I love that you are excited to marry me, I would be kind of mad if you weren't."
I giggled, nuzzling my nose against her neck, "So what do you think?"
"Well, I think the sooner the better."
"Exactly what I was thinking. The more I look, the more I'm convinced on a court house wedding. It's such a process."
"A court house wedding would be a lot easier."
"No! you can't have a court house wedding," Kelley yelled making us jump and me glare at her. 
---
Today was the worst day yet without my meds. I was exhausted, my head hurt, I was irritable beyond belief, every little sound or touch felt a hundred times worse and I couldn't focus on anything. There had been a very small handful of times in our relationship that I couldn't handle Ally's touch, this was one of those times. It always made me feel like shit, guilty that my own girlfriend couldn't even touch me. That didn't help me feel any better. Ally was always so understanding about it all, reassuring me that it was okay and dealing with my over touching afterwards to make up for it. Today was no different, Ally had been amazing, giving me space, reassuring me.
Ally had brought me lunch so I wouldn't have to be around the team. We were sitting on the floor in silence after eating. Normally, just being near Ally would help but everything was starting to get too overwhelming. I felt like I was about to explode, like any second I would break. And I did. I didn't mean for it to happen, things just boiled over. Ally suggested we go for a walk, she knew it would help, so did I but I couldn't bring myself to leave the room. I ended up snapping at her.
"Come on Y/n/n, you know it'll help."
"Just give it a rest! I don't need you pestering me, I'm not a child, I'm an adult, I can handle this myself. Just back off."
Ally just looked at me for a second before getting up and walking out. I buried my hands in my hair, pulling slightly. Maybe it wasn't the most healthy thing, but it helped ground me. Well normally it would. It helped enough to snap me out of it and realised I fucked up, "Fuck."
Tears fell before I could stop them as I curled up in a ball and cried. I had never snapped at Ally like that before. Sure we had fights occasionally, but there was never yelling. I cried and sobbed, letting everything from the last week or so out. Being off my meds was exhausting, physically but mostly mentally. My mind was almost constantly a mess. It took me back to how I felt growing up. Like I was annoying, a burden, stupid. That the people around me only put up with me because they had to. Ally included. 
Once the tears finally stopped, I just lay there staring at the celling. It's like I was stuck there, I knew I had to go find Ally, but I couldn't move. The door opened then I felt someone sit down next to me. I knew it wasn't Ally, she always wore a perfume that I would recoganise instantly. 
"What's going on Y/n/n?" Christens soft voice filled the silence.
"It's too much. I-I don't know if I can handle this. I'm just a burden to everyone around me. I fucked up, Ally hates me. It's just too much Chris."
"Y/n Y/l/n you are not a burden. I know things are hard without your medication, but that does not mean you are a burden. We love you, we are here for you okay? I know it's hard, I know it feels overwhelming, but we've got you. We've always got you Y/n. Ally could never hate you, she loves you. Did something happen with her?"
"I fucked up. I snapped at her when she was just trying to help. I've never done anything like that before. I fucked up Chris," My voice cracked, tears somehow welling up again. 
Christen pulled me into her. I didn't fight it, instead gripping her shirt tightly as sobbed wracked through me again. She rubbed my back, whispering quiet reassurances. Eventually Christen moved, being replaced by someone else who held me tight, hand slipping under my shirt and drawing patterns along my skin. Perfume overtook my senses, that sweet perfume I knew so well. I sobbed harder, gripping her shirt as if my life depended on it. In a way it did. I couldn't imagine my life without Ally in it. She understood me in a way no one else did, she knew how to calm me down, how to support me, how to make me laugh. Most importantly she loved me despite my flaws. 
"I'm sorry Ally, I'm so sorry. Please forgive me, I'm so-"
"Shhh, it's okay, I've got you baby, I've got you."
It took a while, but eventually the tears stopped. I sat up, moving away from Ally to sit against the bed. I felt myself go numb. Over the years, it had become my way to protect my self when things, especially emotions got too much. It hadn't happened in a while. Things were never too much when Ally was around, it was manageable. Right now I didn't know where we stood and I was scared.  
I felt two warm hands cup my cheeks and soft lips press against my forehead, "Don't do that. Don't blank out on me. Come back to me."
"W-what are you doing here?"
"Chris texted, she was worried about you, said you needed me."
"You came even after I said what I did."
Ally laced her fingers with mine, "Of course I did. While I didn't appreciate what happened, I know you didn't mean it. Besides, you needed me. I will always be there for you when you need me."
"I'm sorry for snapping at you, I was just so overwhelmed. I don't know if I can do this Al. It's just so much."
She pulled me up, wrapping me tightly in her arms then guiding me so we were cuddled in bed, "I know it's hard baby, I know it's frustrating, but we've got this. I'm right here by your side every step of the way, I'm not going anywhere."
"We're okay?"
"We're okay baby. You owe me a massage though, when you're feeling better to make up for this."
I chuckled, cuddling into her side, my eyes getting heavy, "Deal. I love you Al."
"I love you Y/n. Try and get some sleep. I'm finished work for the day. Chris is going to bring dinner for us a bit later."
---
The ring had just arrived at the hotel and I was scared to open it. I ran straight up to Ali, pulling her away much to the confusion of Ally and everyone else. I shoved the package at her, making her stumble back a bit.
"Calm down a bit Y/n/n. What is it?"
"The ring. Can you open it? I'm kinda scared."
Ali carefully opened the package then the box. I was way more nervous than I expected to be. I had spent so long trying to find the perfect ring, I guess I was worried this wouldn't be it, that it wasn't anything close to what I was hoping for.
"This is beautiful Y/n. It's perfect."
I slowly took the box from Ali, freezing when I saw it. It was exactly what I had envisioned. Seeing the ring felt like a weight had been lifted. After spending so much time searching, I finally had the ring Ally deserved. Thoughts of her not liking it tried to creep in, but I managed to push them away. I knew Ally would like it. "It's exactly what I wanted. It came out way better than I expected."
"So are you just going to give it to her? Or do another proposal?"
"I'm not sure. I was kind of thinking about proposing again just for the fun of it. The original proposal wasn't that special."
"I think you'll find to Ally it was. Even if it wasn't extravagant, it was just the two of you. Personal and intimate." 
"Probably. Let's be honest, I just want to spoil her. Can you hold onto this for me? I'm terrified of losing it."
Ali wrapped her arm around me, trying not to laugh, "Of course I will. Let me know if you need help planning it. Let's get back before they start to question it."
Ally was going to say yes. Knowing that let the excitement bubble up instead of the nerves. I was incredibly excited to propose to her, the plan was already coming together in my mind. I didn't want to wait, all going well it was going to happen tonight. 
Once we got back, I beelined to Ally, "I have two questions. First, will you go on a date with me tonight? Second, do you want to go make out?"
"Yes and definitely yes."
---
Since we started dating, picnics were a big part of our relationship. We both had jobs that meant we dealt with a lot of people. Picnics were the way we escaped reality and people without being inside or around our flat mates at the time. I figured there was no better place to propose then on a picnic. 
Because our date was last minute and we had practice today, I hadn't had enough time to set up the picnic. Ali had agreed to set up the picnic while I took Ally bowling. She loved bowling and it gave time to set everything up. Ally had won by a lot which was not a surprise, I sucked at bowling. Of course she had gloated about it, but with the proud smile she wore, I couldn't even be annoyed. 
Before we left, I had texted Ali to make sure everything was set up so we didn't get there too early. I was driving when the reply came in. Ally went to check like normal, but I quickly stopped her, much to her confusion. 
"You can't check that one, it'll ruin the surprise." I pulled over checking the message, making sure to hide it from Ally. Thankfully she didn't question it. 
Ali: Food took longer then planned, just picked it up, need 10 minutes to finish everything. Also found the perfect place to film it.
Ally was wearing a grey sweater, white blouse underneath with the collar showing and black jeans. I don't know what it was, but I found her incredibly attractive when she wore stuff like that. It was mostly for work which is why I got kicked out when she was working. I couldn't keep my hands to myself. "So we need to kill 10 minutes. You look incredibly beautiful so lets make out." 
"Yeah okay."
Ali had set up a blanket on the beach with candles, rose petals and a small speaker for music. Instead of doing the classic picnic foods, I got Ali to pick up some Thai food because it was Ally's favourite and another one of our traditions. 
I watched Ally's eyes light up as we approached the picnic, "Baby, this is beautiful. How did you set this up?"
"I may have gotten Ali to help set it up. You like it?"
"You don't even have to ask, I love everything you do. This is perfect baby. Is that Thai? I'm starving."
I had planned to do the proposal first for 3 reasons. I was terrified of losing the ring, it was likely I would get more nervous as time went on and Ali was waiting to film it. "It is, you need to wait a minute before we eat."
I found the ring before taking Ally's hand, "Growing up I never thought I would find someone who loved me so unconditionally, who loved me as I was. Who would stick by me and support me through everything. But I did. I found you and I never want to lose you. I want you, no I need you by my side for the rest of my life. I love you Ally, more than you will ever know. I know you've already said yes, but I wanted to do this properly." I sunk down on one knee, opening the box, "Will you marry me Ally?"
"Yes, a million times yes." I easily slipped the ring onto her finger watching her eyes widen as she looked at the ring closer. "Holy shit Y/n, this is amazing. Where did you find it?"
"I designed it. It's based on the snowboarding trip."
"Just when I thought I couldn't love you more, you prove me wrong. You are amazing baby. Words can't describe how much I love this. I want this to be my wedding ring as well. It's too perfect to just be an engagement ring. Is that allowed?"
"We can do whatever we want. Ali filmed that by the way, I wanted it for our memories." 
---
Ally and I were looking at wedding ideas together for the first time. At first I was slightly worried that we weren't going to be on the same page, that it might cause fights. I had seen it happen to couples before. I quickly realised that it was a pointless worry, we were on the same page about everything so far. We wanted simple, non-traditional. 
We had started looking at things we would need for the wedding, such as the venue and catering. Everything we had looked at so far was expensive, which I guess wasn't that much of a surprise, everyone always says weddings are expensive. 
I sighed, pushing the laptop away and turning to Ally, "Why are weddings so expensive? Like I know we can afford it, but it just seems like a waste."
"I know, it's just one day, we could use that money towards our honeymoon or a house."
I straddled Ally, hiding my face against her shoulder. As much as I loved planning things, without my meds, even that was slightly overwhelming after a bit of time. There were so many options and things to consider, "We could do a backyard wedding. Ali and Ash might let us use their place if we asked nice enough."
"Of course we would." I jumped, turning around to find them both standing there. 
"I swear the word wedding is like a magnet for all of you. Every time it's mentioned, someone shows up."
"Well you guys keep talking about it in places where there's a high likely hood of someone being around. Anyway, we would love to have your wedding at our place if that's what you wanted."
Reluctantly, I climbed off Ally, moving to stand by Ali and Ash, "You would really do that for us?"
Ali smiled softly, pulling me in for a hug, "Of course we will kiddo. You're family. You're family too Ally."
I noticed Ally trying to hide her smile. No matter how much they showed they loved her or treated her like part of the team, I still got the same warm, almost ecstatic feeling. To me the team was family. The fact that they saw Ally as family was really important to me. "We're not planning anything over the top or even overly traditional, just simple with friends and family."
"Are your parents going to be there?" Ashlyn tried to hide the annoyance in her voice when mentioning my parents, but it didn't work. I wasn't surprised by it, when they found out what it was like for me growing up, they were pissed. 
I had opened up to them about a lot of things, especially Ali, but besides vague information about how they treated me, my parents never really came up. "No, I um cut them off about 3 years ago. They were just destroying my mental health. Ally's parents will be there though, they pretty much took me in."
"They like you more than me sometimes."
"Well we can't wait to meet them."
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foressfaction · 3 months
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:Ticci Toby:{A Rewrite}
CHAPTER 6
WARNING:: This story contains EXTREMELY triggering topics such as Domestic/Child/Substance abuse, Death, harsh language, GORE and dissociation triggers. This story mentions mental illnesses and disorders such as Depression, PTSD, ADHD, and Tourette's Syndrome. !!TICS MAY BE TRIGGERING!!
Chapter six
Toby got home that night, realizing what he had done to his hands on the way home. They were chewed, bloody. Most of the blood was dry, but it wasn't hard to wash off.
Toby found some old pairs of winter gloves, they were black. He cut the tips of the fingers off, pulling them onto his hands to hide his scarred skin. He mostly wore jackets and flannels so the gloves wouldn't stand out as much. He really didn't want to be bandaged up again.
Lyra came opening his door, looking at him wide eyed. "What's up? I had an odd feeling just now."
"Eh? Oh, I'm fine, just- sitting, yep." he shrugged, tugging his hands into the creases of his elbows.
"Wait, Lyra, I have to ask, why was dad so mad yesterday?" he spoke, now thinking about how his head was healing. A white strip of gauze wrapped around his forehead halfway.
Lyra came in and sat down on his bed, hopping a little as she did so, making the bed bounce. "I'm so sorry I forgot to tell you. I quit my job, and well now we don't have much income."
Toby looked down slightly, kinda upset too. "heh..let me guess, dad did-didn't like that because you we-were the only one making money?"
She nodded. "I couldn't handle the drama, I wasn't getting promoted, I was only getting yelled at, work used to be my only escape from the verbal assault but I just didn't feel safe there." Lyra explained. This made Toby wonder, was Lyra skipping school? She never talked about it.
"You're still going to school right?" Toby asked. This earned a guilty side eye from the blonde girl. "Look- don't tell mom and dad okay? It was just too overwhelming and i had to work and- and-"
Toby grabbed her hand with a weak smile. "it's safe w-with me, why would i tell them? I know how dad would react, and mom would nev-never see the end of it." He looked down, a few facial tics leaving him.
"Let's go somewhere." Lyra randomly suggested. "Anywhere, for a drive, walk, even running doesn't sound so bad, I bet I can beat you in a race." She winked childishly. Despite being five years older than Toby, Lyra was a rather playful person. She was just overall chaotic. All she wanted to do was to make her brother laugh, see him smile. He never smiled much, or when he did it was an awkward smirk.
"Nuh uh, i-im way faster than you, believe it." Toby responded, taking on her challenge.
Lyra laughed stupidly and got up, lightning the mood. "Get your shoes on." She left the room quickly.
Toby got up and pulled on his old converses, they were all dirty and worn out from wearing them for so long. Toby followed the girl who disappeared into her room.
Lyra was putting her hair into a loose ponytail. She had bangs that fell perfectly above her eyes, and side tails that were just too short to fit into the ponytail. Her hair was thick and naturally a yellow blonde color. It was rather messy too, a family trait. She pulled on her own pair of plain white converses. Despite being white, they were still in way better shape than Toby's. Her style was pretty casual for their time, baggy jeans, band T-shirts with flannels or other sweaters layered over. They did live in a colder area so thicker and warmer clothes dominated their wardrobe. Plus the family's poor income only allowed them to mostly thrift all of their things, and stick to the same pair of shoes for years.
It's a good thing they never really grow out of old clothes. Both of the siblings being underweight and pretty malnourished. Lyra keeps Toby in check by doing things like they are now, exercising, without knowing it. Lyra and Toby honestly just liked being active. Staying inside all day was a bummer, and so what if it was 50 degrees out, they weren't going to suffice being bored to death all day.
School or work was the only reason they left the house, sometimes it was good to get out.
••••••
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queerstake · 2 months
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As a queer drawn to the faith and trying to deal with the messiness of entering into everything, I've been trying hard to read more of the Book of Mormon because I only have a very vague understanding of it's Whole Deal, but executive dysfunction, ADHD, and honestly, a million other excuses are making it very difficult. Are there any good resources for walking through the fundamentals? Childish but I feel like I'm disappointing the Lord if I'm not more on top of this.
Hi anon! I totally get it and yes, I can think of a few ideas!
If you're looking for ways to understand the BoM (or even just general doctrine) from more of a bird's eye view:
I hope you don't find this silly, but when I was a kid, the church published an illustrated children's version of the BoM that's obviously way quicker to flip through. It might be harder for you to find those exact editions I read as a kid if you don't have ready access to a church library, BUT I found this!! It's (almost) the ENTIRE BoM illustrated and summarized and it's online!
Looks like they put out videos too that summarize the BoM beginning to end. Here's a link to the video series. I haven't seen these, so I can't vouch for them, but they might be helpful! Similarly, there's a BoM in 60 seconds video you might find helpful.
If you'd benefit from a schedule, the church is currently studying the BoM in sunday school! The past few years, we've been using a study guide called Come Follow Me with weekly assigned reading chapters. I've actually been working on posts about CFM as they relate to queer mormon theology, but I haven't had much posted yet since I've been having a rocky start to 2024. As things improve, I'll be able to hopefully even establish a schedule on this blog!
I'm not sure if missionary lessons is something you're interested in at this point, and it's definitely not something you ever need to do, but the missionary lessons themselves are a pretty good doctrine intro if you're looking for just Mormonism 101 in a digestible way. The missionaries teach out a book called Preach My Gospel, which is available right here. You'll be interested in the lessons, which are found in Chapter 3. If you just scroll down, you'll see some of the links are labeled Lesson instead of Chapter--just click on those bad boys. And if you have any doctrinal questions, I'm always MORE than happy to talk about the church! You'll probably get a faster answer DMing me personally at @logans-mormon-blog, but I'll always answer asks here as soon as time permits.
If you're looking for easier ways to finish the BoM from beginning to end:
The BoM on tape. The church has an audiobook version available on the Gospel Library app and other audio apps like Spotify.
The Reader's Edition. If you can get your hand on a reader's edition, a lot of people find this is an easier way to plow through the BoM. What's special about this one is that it's formatted not like scripture but like prose, and it really does change the reading experience!
I don't know if this helps any, but I struggle with some of the same issues as you and I'm always bitterly disappointed when I'm not able to move mountains. If I had my way, I'd be the most well-read scriptorian of all time and this blog would be updated constantly. But life often doesn't shake out that way. I spend way more time than I want to with my brain entirely burned out of my head. So you're not alone, if that's any comfort. I think God gets it--he made our brains, after all, and knows how hard it is to wrestle with. It's easier said than done, but don't beat yourself up. God loves the both of us and he's the most perfectly patient person who's ever lived. He's not frustrated or disappointed with our efforts. Religion exists, in my opinion, to help improve and enrich our lives, not make them more challenging OR even to make them perfect if we only could just run fast enough. I too wish I could be more diligent and on it, but shit happens, right? And we're not on earth to be perfect, we're here to be happy and to learn. When Joseph Smith was translating the BoM, God told him "Do not run faster or labor more than you have strength and means provided to enable you to translate; but be diligent unto the end." D&C 10:4. We're doing our damndest, and that's all God even wants from us.
If anyone else has more resource ideas, please let us know!
-Logan
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geekgirl750-writes · 7 months
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Random Headcanons for the Scream (1996) Group
A/N Okay so I know I've been promising a bunch of fics and they will be coming...eventually. But right now I have major Scream brainrot so here are some of my headcanons for the characters
Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, Billy & Stu being misogynistic, mentions of bullying, mentions of cheating, brief mention of alcohol, mention of murder/canon typical violence in Scream
Billy is the oldest and Randy is the youngest
More specifically the birth order goes Billy, Tatum, Sidney, Stu & then Randy
Billy & Tatum's birthdays are both in September and are two weeks apart
Sidney's birthday is in November
Stu's birthday is in late March because in my mind there is no way that man is not an Aries
Randy's birthday is only about a month after Stu's, but Stu uses any chance he gets to bring up the fact that Randy is the "baby" of the group to piss him off
For example:
Stu cuts off Randy during one of his rants about how the sinners are always punished in horror movies because, "What do you know about the sex rules in horror movies, anyways huh?! You're such a virgin, I bet you have wet dreams about Jamie Lee's breasts" Stu chuckles, blowing air in Randy's ear.
"Shut up!" Randy argues back, he feels a blush spread across his face and up to his ears.
"Aww look Billy, the baby's blushing. It is true!" Stu laughs louder.
"I'm not a baby! Your birthday is only 3 weeks before mine!" Randy pouts.
"Whatever you say, baby" Stu sticks his tongue out at Randy, devolving into a fit of laughter at his expense.
Randy has autism (I feel like this one isn't even up for debate)
Stu has ADHD and dyslexia
Tatum isn't a natural blonde:
Her real hair color is a shade of brown slightly lighter than Sidney's. She started dying her hair during junior year because she wanted to stand out more
Speaking of hair dying, Stu definitely bleached his hair sophomore year (think Tim Laflour from Senseless) just to piss off his parents
I wouldn't say Tatum is boy crazy but I think she definitely likes knowing that she can hold a man's attention
I feel like Stu and Tatum haven't been dating that long, having only gotten together about 6-8 months before the start of Scream
I also think Stu is Tatum's first real relationship
I feel like Sidney and Casey Becker would have been besties if they had gotten the chance to get closer
Tatum was always secretly a little insecure whenever Casey got brought up but if she had really gotten to know her they would've been friendly too.
I think Stu used to tell Tatum lies about Casey/ Casey & his relationship to make Tatum jealous on purpose
Literally if it wasn't for Stu then Sidney, Tatum and Casey would've been such an iconic girl group
I think in terms of distance Randy and Tatum live closest to each other, their houses are only a few blocks away from each other near the center of town
Billy also lives close to the center but heading the opposite direction from Tatum and Randy
Sidney's house is closet to Stu's with the two of them living on the outskirts of town in the more rural area.
Group hangouts & movie nights are usually at Stu's place because his house has the most space and his parents are rarely home
Occasionally Randy will host movie nights at his house but not as often as Stu because whenever the group hangs out at Randy's, Martha wants to be included
And while Randy loves his sister, they can't really watch slasher movies and drink beer with a kid hanging around
I think before Maureen was murdered the gang would hang out at Sidney's house a lot too
But after she died, Sidney found it hard to have company over because it reminded her of all the memories she had of her mom, like her baking cookies for Sid & her friends, or all the times she had begged her mom to let Tatum sleep over on a school night, and now it was too painful to try and create new happy memories in the house since she was gone
Billy always preferred hanging out at Stu's as he was finding it harder and harder to be at the Prescott's house
Each time he walked through the door he could feel his blood boiling thinking about what was going on between Sidney's mother and his father & how much of a slut Maureen was
Okay so I've found myself struggling to figure out how Randy ended up in that friend group
Because for me I think Sidney and Tatum have been best friends for forever, having been friends since the 1st grade
Stu and Billy have also been friends a long time, meeting each other in the 3rd grade when Billy's family moved to Woodsboro and the two instantly clicked.
But Randy... he feels like a bit of an outsider compared to the other boys and I doubt him and Tatum would have been friends first if it wasn't for the fact they already had mutual friends
I think Sidney was the one to introduce Randy to the group:
Like it's the 7th grade and Sidney and Tatum are a school dance (I'm imagining something like the Snow Ball from Stranger Things) and this group of popular guys come running up to them snickering being like "Our friend has a crush on you! This guy wants to ask you out... we're totally like his best friends." And Sidney can tell something is up
She sees the group of boys gesturing to this geeky looking kid sitting by himself all awkward on the bleachers and instantly knows that he's the butt of some practical joke.
"He wants to make out with you! He told me himself!" The leader of the group laughs pointing at Sidney.
"Leave us alone you creeps!" Tatum yells back, pulling her and Sidney away from the boys before they take off laughing.
And then Sidney is just standing there looking at this poor kid alone on the bleachers and before she can stop herself, she's walking over to him
Tatum is just watching her like girl wtf are you doing?!
Sidney sits down beside him and introduces herself
Needless to say Randy is shocked, like why is this cute girl talking to him of all people!?
"Hey I'm sorry those guys are such jerks! Would you like to dance with my friend and me?" Sidney asks pointing to Tatum
And then it's literally love at first sight for Randy.
Randy spends the rest of the night dancing and talking with the girls and Sidney starts to realize maybe this kid isn't all that weird and annoying after all
After the dance, Sidney and Randy start saying hi to each other in the halls or occasionally eating lunch together until it grows into a fully formed friendship
Also just because Tatum wasn't super open to Randy in the beginning doesn't mean that they're not besties now
Because they are!
I see Tatum and Randy being big time gossip buddies
Like Randy is obviously really nerdy so I see him as being the type of guy other people don't really pay attention to
Which means the more popular students will be gossiping right in front of him like he's not even there and Randy's holding on to every single word
Like one time he was sitting in the library only pretending to type up his English essay because the two girls next to him were whispering about how Christina from his biology class had not only gotten knocked up over summer break but how her boyfriend might not be the father because "Casey like totally saw her sneaking upstairs with this scary-looking guy at Steve Orth's 4th of July party"
And Randy is sitting there feeling like his head is going to explode if he doesn't immediately run and share this news with Tatum so the two can swap theories on who the mystery guy is
Stu likes to gossip too but Tatum is selective with what she tells him because he's a blabbermouth and will spread the stories all over school
I feel like the friendship as we see it in the opening of Scream didn't happen right away
Like usually it was just Billy & Stu hanging out and then Sidney & Tatum, or Randy and the girls hanging out separately
It was until freshman year that the 5 of them all started hanging out as one big group as Billy and Sidney got closer
Randy didn't want to admit it to the girls but I think he was happy at first to have some guy friends around
Although tbh Billy and Stu are more like his frenemies at best with how much they like to abuse and tease him
I like to headcanon that Randy was raised by a single mom, with his dad walking on the family when Randy was 8, leaving his mom to take care of him and Martha by herself
Because of this I think Randy can struggle a bit with his masculinity sometimes
I think before the murders he used to look to Billy and Stu as sort of guides on how to be "manly"
But as he got older, like during junior/early senior year, he started to see just how much of misogynistic jerks the two were
I think Randy is closer to Stu than Billy
Like during the rare moments where Stu isn't making fun of him they actually have similar interests in terms of movies and will chat about that
I don't think Randy ever really liked Billy as he always saw him as a sort of competition for Sidney's affection
But I feel like he tried to make an effort to get along with Billy until the start of their junior year:
Billy's mom had left him and his dad under mysterious circumstances a week before the start of the new school year & Billy had been acting a little more off than usual
Randy feeling empathetic towards him and remembering what it was like when his dad left tried to start a conversation with Billy about it:
"Hey, Billy I know we've never been as close as you and Stu but if you want to talk about y'know... your mom" Randy trailed off, glancing at Billy over the door to his locker, Billy's face unreadable. "Look I remember when my dad left I-"
Before Randy could finish his sentence, Billy grabbed him by the shirt collar, shoving him harshly into the wall of lockers.
"Listen shithead! Your father ran off with his cum dump slut of a secretary," Billy sneered his face inches from Randy's, a look of anger in his eyes that Randy had never seen before. "Don't try and fucking act like you understand any of this."
Billy let go slamming him back into the lockers and storming off, leaving Randy scared and speechless.
Billy gave Randy a half assed apology later that day during lunch, saying all the stress at home was getting to him and urged Randy to keep the whole situation between the two of them
Randy agreed but never truly forgave Billy and lost all trust in him after that
Lastly, this might be controversial but I feel like the queer relationship between Stu and Billy was one sided
Like Stu definitely had a crush on Billy
And Billy liked Stu because he was "different" and "understood him", but his feelings towards Stu weren't as strong as Stu's were for him
I kinda feel like Billy used Stu's crush to manipulate him a bit
Like Stu definitely went along with the murders of his own accord because he's sick and twisted and thought they were fun
But I think Billy sold him on this lie of how the pair would be the two sole survivors and they would go on to create a sequel
While Billy cared for Stu, he wouldn't hesitate to kill him if it meant he could get away with his plan as revenge was always what was most important to him
And one thing about Stu is that guy has a big mouth
He could barely go one day without not so subtly bragging about how he and Billy murdered Casey and Steve
I doubt Billy expected him to be able to keep the whole events of the Woodsboro murders a secret for very long
Which is why I think Billy cut him a little too deeply in the kitchen scene on purpose
Stu was just his muscle and lap dog to help him carry out his big plan
Billy always saw himself as the lone "final girl" in his revenge plot so Stu bleeding out from his wounds wouldn't have been that big of an issue to him
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dreambunnynotes · 5 months
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daily check-in: dec. 11th
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hi lovely friends! i missed my check-in on sunday and i was going to skip monday's because i had the mentality that i could just 'start again tomorrow,' but better habits are built today, not later! i'm trying to find ways to encourage myself to be disciplined and this is one of the ways i'm showing up for myself. monday felt like a huge success in terms of discipline and hard work without pushing myself, and i feel really proud!
please note: in this post i celebrate my lack of rest on monday because i often default to rest without discipline, so personally this was a success in developing a healthier work/play balance, focused on the 'work' part of things. however, everyone is in their own journey with self improvement and i absolutely do not advocate for overworking oneself generally - i believe that a good work/play balance is essential, i am just personally working on the work side of things so that is why i am proud of my lack of rest today!
accomplishments:
i followed through on my work obligations even though i felt super tired and wanted to reschedule; i have so few work obligations these days and i need the money so it felt really good to not cancel even though i wanted to. i only had to cancel one appointment at the very end of the day because i was starting to feel sick (everyone i know is getting a cold or flu these days) but i pushed through earlier in the day for every other appointment and still listened to what my body needed at the end of the day, which feels like a huge success for someone who often cancels her obligations!
i found a new way to enjoy tasks that normally stress me out, which is to listen to a podcast my sister recommended while completing mindless tasks. it made the tasks fly by and made doing them actually fun!
i put in a few hours of work on a project that has a deadline, even though i wanted to spend time doing leisurely things. i feel really proud of myself for accomplishing what i did!
room for improvement:
this is less about today specifically and more about the past week, but i should have gotten started on the project that has a deadline much earlier; i need way more time than i thought i would, which is of course chalked up to time-blindness. i need to find a way to give myself earlier deadlines; last night i researched how to create a sense of urgency for adhd brains and i think i've figured out a way to do this for myself. so, despite my flub in starting the project late, i am proud of myself because i was the one who sought out a deadline for the project in the first place and it has helped me lots!
still need to get to bed earlier; typing this at 12:30am is no good 😭
hohkaaaaay, i am SLEEPY (edit: posting this during the day after i slept lol). i seriously need to get my sleep schedule figured out, but i'm taking one step at a time. i'm calling this day a success, being compassionate to myself for where i made mistakes, and looking forward to another beautiful day today! have a wonderful evening and take care of your lovely self 🥰
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cy-cyborg · 7 months
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Ok so the saga with my old PC continues and is only fueling my desire to get back into fanfiction lol because I found all of the files from my attempt at making a legend of spyro fan-game! I honestly thought they were lost, I'm so excited to see all this stuff again! This was the "logo" for the game (I know its nearly unreadable lol, so it says "The Legend of Cynder, Shadows of The Past". 14/15 year old me didn't seem to care much for readability, I think I'd just discovered photoshop's layer effects lol)
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Here's a bunch of random stuff I found.
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I'm defiantly going to do a redraw of that last one at some point. That was like, THE thing I remember being super proud of when I first did it. I think it was going to be part of the trailer my now-partner was putting together for the game lol.
Actually, a lot of these were actually just frames from animations, but either the files are either just corrupted, or high school me didn't know how to set fps and resolution properly in the output so I got a headache trying to watch them lol. It's probably the second one honestly. Also I remember my old laptop wasn't able to play back the animation because it would lag so much, so I just had to kind of...guess at timing, and that went about as well as you'd expect. It didn't help that blender used to have this bug where your audio would move around your timeline so it really was just random guessing. I'm amazed anything got done at all, let alone how far we actually got (that is to say, not far at all but we had something playable at least).
I also found the demo files and footage of the "game" running (running at 12fps but running)! I'm curious if they still work, I'll have to download an older version of blender to test them out!
There's actually a lot more but actually finding it is proving to be quite a challenge since this laptop seems to be the digital equivalent of an ADHD "doom box" - meaning nothing is sorted into folders that make even a remote lick of sense to me, it's all just kind of thrown in together lmao.
I wanted to post these though because even though I don't really do 3D stuff anymore, It still made me really happy to see how much progress I've made over the years and how far I've come. Also a few folks who worked on this project with me back on Deviantart have started finding me lol, so in case there's anyone else out there, hello! I'm not dead, I'm still around, I'm just a lot more (openly) queer now lmao.
Image descriptions:
[ID 1: A game title that reads "The Legend of Cynder, Shadows of the Past". The two lines, "the legend of" and "shadows of the past" are written in dark purple text. The purple material is supposed to look like liquid, but instead just looks hard to read. "Cynder" is writen in black, 3D text with red outlines, with the exception of the C. The "c" is modeled as a black tube instead of in a blocky style like the rest of the letters. The inside of the C has a red underbelly, and the bottom of the C ends in a tail, resembling Cynder's from the Legend of Spyro Series. There are 3 white spikes at the top of the C. /end ID]
[ID 2: a 3d render of 4 dragons around a christmas tree. A black dragon at the front, Cynder, is using her tail to hang tinsel, a pruple dragon, Spyro, on the left is reaching up into the branches of the tree. A blue dragon, Ignitus, is hovering behind the tree, his paws outstretched, implying he is placing the glowing star at the top. On his head is a silver dragon, Zerali, balancing on his horns. behind them is a series of floating islands. /End ID]
[ID 3: A render of Cynder with a darker colour pallet than the previous image and glowing yellow eyes, snarling at the camera, guarding a black gem. The sky in the background is blood red and the terrain is flat and barren. /End ID]
[ID 4: A render of an incomplete model of Terrador, a green dragon with brown horns and rocky shoulder decorations. He has no underbelly or wings. /end ID]
[ID 5: A render of a fan character named ekkosel, a blue, anthropomorphic dragonfly with an unsettling, uncanny face and green wings, T-posing. Her green wings are a blur /End ID]
[ID 6: two sketches of a anthropomorphic cheetah heads. One has long ears like a lynx and is labeled DotD design, the other has small, rounded ears like a cheetah usually has, labled TLoC design. /end ID]
[ID 7: A render of Zerali, the silver dragon from the second image, and ekkosel, from the 5th, playing together. In this image, we can see Zerali has a pinky-purple underbelly and shiny gold horns.]
[ID 8: A rendered scene showing a close up of blue ignitus with his eyes closed. He appears to be talking to Cynder, who is in the background, but blurry. The game's logo is visible in the bottom left of the image. /end ID]
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smytherines · 2 months
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I went through my big Starkid era over the last like six months or so. I had seen Spies Are Forever once a few months back, liked it, but it kinda got buried by life stuff. Maybe a week or two before the tinlightenment kickstarter started up, I remembered SAF and decided to rewatch it, and seeing it again with the context of the full story just really spoke to me in a way I cannot shut up about.
I love Spies Are Forever. I love how funny and tender and gay and hilarious it is. But as much as I love SAF, I'm most grateful that I've gotten to make so many friends bonding over this show. Friends who are working so so so hard to promote the kickstarter because they love Tin Can Bros stuff as much as I do. We have had so much fun on streams, making up ridiculous inside jokes, posting sandwiches and asses in bios and the Sacred Text.
When I found out about the kickstarter I went and liked all the socials, not even thinking about funding it if I'm honest, but I wanted to share stuff at least. That has changed in a big way. I just increased my pledge today, actually!
Anyways I kept rewatching SAF and appreciating it in new ways. I watched Solve It Squad and Grunch and Wayward Guide. I started engaging with the tinlightenment posts. I asked my partner for the 54 Below digital ticket for Valentines Day. I made a new tumblr for the first time in years so I could post hyperfixations about SAF. I made a Diane Lopez-Richter meme that still makes me smile every time I see it, and now I'm just doing as much TCB promo as I possibly can because I really believe in what they're doing.
Theatre is hard. Independent theatre is so much harder. I spent 8 years in a children's community theatre company growing up. My mom did their books in exchange for my tuition. It was always a hustle to keep the doors open. I can say without question that it saved my life. It gave me a space to safely have my big ADHD feelings. Theatre gives you space to feel huge things in a safe way, and TCB provides free, fully original productions to anyone who can access youtube.
I backed the Tinlightenment kickstarter because these original shows and songs and characters are rare and precious, given to us FOR FREE in the hopes that we'll continue to choose to support all of these wonderful creators when they do these big fundraising campaigns.
Corey, Joey, and Brian have spent ten years working hard as fuck to bring us new things for our goblin brains to latch onto, and I want to see more. They have been working so hard on this kickstarter to give us SEVEN events for 200k, which is basically nonsense. An irrationally small amount of money for what they are planning to do. And I want to see them get there.
If you can't back the kickstarter, that's totally cool. Everyone has their own shit going on, nobody is going to hold it against you. We love you we love you we love you.
If you can afford to throw a few bucks towards the kickstarter, please please do it. Independent theatre only happens if we fund it.
>>> Tinlightenment <<<
(Reposting the Diane meme because I love watching her get new treats)
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getvalentined · 1 month
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Character ask game: #3, #48, #49 Vincent Valentine, of course!
What first drew you to this character?
What drew me to Vincent in the first place is a bit convoluted and very silly, but also I was like 12 when the OG came out so bear with me here.
So my mom has ADHD and only discovered this in the past couple years, meaning she spent her entire life trying to accommodate a condition she didn't realize she had, and this led to some "weird" choices—one of the most notable of which was literally color-coding her children.
I have five siblings, and we were all assigned a color to make it easier to tell what belonged to who. Older sister: green. Older brother: navy blue. Younger sister: purple, which was also her first word. Younger brother: sky blue. Baby sister: turquoise, because our folks tried pink but she rejected it from like 6 months old.
My color, if you hadn't guessed, was red.
What’s your favorite physical/design feature for this character?
This is hard to answer because Vincent's design, while being very distinct, is also really...transient, I wanna say? Most of his iconic physical features are temporary, they're clothing or accessories, we don't get to see a lot of him.
I really love Vincent's hair, but I always have the most fun drawing his eyes, so we'll go with that.
What’s your favorite personality trait in this character?
I actually really love Vincent's sense of responsibility. It's gotten him into trouble (that is literally how he wound up in his current condition in the first place) but it's also the only thing that drives him forward at any point in his entire storyline. He has trouble keeping it from bleeding out into guilt, sure, but without that sense of responsibility he never would have gotten out of his coffin in the first place.
I know he gets a lot of shit for being callow and weak-willed and dramatic, people call him obsessive for what happened with Lucrecia and stupid for just kinda staying in a coffin for decades while the world burned down around him, but I think that's doing him a disservice.
Vincent put himself to rest out of the same sense of responsibility as what got him killed in the first place. His presence, as far as he's concerned, is what caused everything to go wrong. He believed that he drove Lucrecia into a relationship with Hojo by coming on too strong, he believed that Sephiroth was his child and therefore he was to blame for giving Project S its lead subject, he believed that his inability to stop them from creating a monster is why he didn't pass on after Hojo shot him—he genuinely believed that the Lifestream rejected him, that what he'd done was so horrible that even Gaia couldn't forgive him.
So when he was locked away, he stayed. If no one ever found him, he couldn't hurt anyone else. He couldn't do any more damage to the world that he's been damned to haunt for the rest of time. In hiding, Vincent was removing himself as a mitigating factor in the continued hardship of the world at large, because he already felt responsible for causing so much harm. He thought he was doing the right thing, he thought he was protecting everyone else, he thought he was keeping the few loved ones he might have left safe.
He was wrong—but if he weren't, there's no denying that it would have been the right decision.
(From the honest favorite character ask game.)
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yuurivoice · 5 months
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Hi yv! I just wanted to send a message saying how much I love your content and I have for years. It's been amazing to see your channel grow and I'm one of your biggest fans!! I used to sub to the patreon but life goes hard and I haven't been able to for a while. The latest auron video has been practically on repeat for me and I really just wanted to say I hope you have a wonderful day and happy holidays!!! Give all the kitties a kiss on the forehead for me pls!
Thank you for the kind words! No worries about whether or not you're a Patreon sub, I certainly appreciate the support but always want people to put themselves first so don't sweat that and I hope you kick life's ass! Also, sending me a kind message is a pretty great way to support in its own right, so I'm genuinely appreciative!
The cats will most definitely be smooched, and I'll pass along a note that it's from a kind Anon!
It's been a wild few years, huh? Making the leap from the Tumblr days to the YouTube era was a big one, but the past 4 years were where I really started to find my footing and I think there's been a lot of growth creatively and personally.
Things have been moving in the right direction despite some personal road bumps and detours. Looking back, there's a lot of things I wish I could have accomplished and kept afloat while working through everything. Still dealing with the guilt of BitterSweet and Shattered not being a thing this year, particularly for all the ride or die Alphonse and Seth fans who have been starving for content while I've been hesitant to push out content for them because the big series wasn't coming.
Thankfully, most people have been supportive, kind, and understanding. That being said, I'm not ignorant to the nature of my content (growing roster of characters = someone's fave isn't getting posted for a while) and I'm doubly thankful to those who have been chill as other characters get established and have their time in the sun.
I'm really hopeful that in the coming year, balance and scheduling and planning are all finely tuned and help me avoid content traffic jams like we've run into such as the recent Charlie Era (lol) which wasn't exactly the plan, but with October AU series + Plushie + Lost & Found all aligning it sorta just worked out that way. Also, it bears mentioning that it's not every day that a side character who was not guaranteed to catch on as A Thing (TM) actually finds an audience and has significant demand. Sometimes you gotta roll with how things play out, and that's just the nature of creating content on social media.
I'm optimistic that things will be at least a LITTLE bit more balanced thanks to ADHD treatment and seeing huge improvements with my mental health. Which can't be understated, because holy shit, the amount of things I'm just able to do without feeling like I'm holding myself at gunpoint or making a million deals with myself to convince myself to do a single task is amazing.
Not only is it easier to get to work, it's easier to do more of the work. That Auron audio you referenced is a great example. I was worried with the script I had and the premise, I wouldn't be able to get much more than 9/10 minutes out of it. The length of my general audios is something I've been conscious of forever, so I was shocked and thrilled when I finished up with the recording and it was 24 minutes of some of my favorite Auron content ever. I'm getting more comfortable improvising, or creating more as I go vs. write, record, post. I'm able to do a little more, add things that I would normally omit or not bother with, and just try harder without feeling like I'm trying harder and purely because I'm enjoying it and I want to.
I am SO sorry that this turned into a rant in response to what was a fairly straightforward question, you caught me while I was feeling introspective.
tldr: Thanks for fuckin' with me. Folks like you make me want to work hard and deliver the goods. The kindness goes a long way, and I don't take that for granted!
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cluster-b-culture-is · 6 months
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hey!!! if its ok i’d like you’re thoughts on something ig and to sorta ask you something
so im bodily 15 atm, and i have cptsd. when i look at posts regarding certain cluster b experiences (possibly some cluster c aswell) i relate a LOT (obviously im not saying that bc i relate that i have these disorders, i just kinda have a feeling that *something* is going on). its tricky bc i keep looking into things and i cant really find an answer. i also dont know if im too young and that its just because im a teenager.
i wont get into like what “symptoms” i experience rn bc i feel like thats a whole other conversation but yeah.
i hope i dont sound like one of those people that are like “i must have x bc i related to a silly video i saw” im just really confused and i feel like something aint right
i know you’re probably not professionals so feel free to delete or ignore this if its too much, but if not, what do you think?
So, here's the thing (and we will attempt to avoid being patronizing): It is absolutely correct that your age and emotional/psychological development can affect things, and that the process of development can cause things that look like mild symptoms. It's also correct that that combined with c-ptsd (and any other disorders you may have; you'd be surprised how many symptoms and comorbidities autism, ADHD, NPD, and BPD all share) can make it extremely hard to determine where your symptoms are coming from and whether there might be something more.
(You're also correct that we are not professionals; this is all coming from our own research and personal experiences, so as with everything, take this with a grain of salt.)
However. I would argue that it would be far more harmful to deny any possibility of having a personality disorder until you reach some arbitrary age threshold than it would be to say that you do have a PD. Especially if looking at your life experiences through the lens of having a PD is helpful, and if resources for pw/[x]PDs are helpful to you. Even if you don't end up having a PD, that doesn't mean you were just a hormonal stupid teenager refusing to listen to the Adults™ or whatever the fuck--it means that you looked at your experiences, found something that seemed similar, and it turned out that you were wrong; but hopefully, along the way, you found things that were helpful.
Under the assumption that you have done a lot of research, I would personally recommend saying that you have traits of a particular disorder as opposed to saying you have the full disorder, and that is to two ends: one, a lot of adults with PDs (especially in ASPD spaces, if that's one of the disorders you're looking at) will kick your shit to hell and back if you even insinuate that you think you may have the full disorder (which I think is extremely counterintuitive if we want teenagers to understand their experiences and, yknow, not develop a full-blown personality disorder, regardless of whether you think teenagers can have a full personality disorder); and two, it might help you target the specific symptoms that you're experiencing without saddling you with the belief[/knowledge] that you have an incredibly stigmatized and lifelong disorder.
A lot of this stuff depends on a few things: (A) what your symptoms are (and if they can be better explained by other things, especially other things you know you have); (B) how severe your symptoms are (like the difference between being generally grouchy versus being actively hostile); and (C) how long your symptoms have lasted (if they only started popping up in the past few months or the past year versus if you've had them for years and years).
If you end up not having a personality disorder, anon, I think it will still be better for you in the long run to explore the possibility instead of shrugging it off under the excuse that you're "too young". It could turn out that you never had the disorder and it really was something else, it could turn out that you have traits but not the full disorder, or, hell, it could turn out that, by using resources and support you found by being part of communities surrounding PDs, you ended up not developing the full PD (even if you may still have a few traits)--because, at this age, you are still developing, and you are changing a lot, and very little is set in stone when it comes to these types of things--and you should absolutely take advantage of that! And even then, speaking from a more selfish perspective, it will never be a bad thing for more people to understand what it may be like to have a personality disorder.
For a bit of actionable advice on determining whether or not you may have one, though:
(1) Do your research. Obviously it's great that you're getting information from people with the disorders themselves by looking at PD communities; however, not everything having to do with the disorder will be talked about, and quite honestly, Tumblr is a terrible place to find definitive information on the PDs. Life experience? Yes. Actual information looking at how the disorders work and what they can entail in full? Ehhh, not quite. Look at a variety of academic sources, but in the same vein, keep your wits about you--professionals aren't immune to ableism, and may often perpetuate it with glee. Some of it may be obvious, some of it might not be.
(2) Keep an eye on your symptoms--make a manual check against the actual criteria every once in a while (but keep in mind that the DSM is also deeply flawed and biased); @shitborderlinesdo has a ton of checklists based on the DSM and individual testimony that can help. We first started questioning ASPD when we were 14, and we'd do those kinds of manual checks once every several months or once a year or so. It both helps you understand what your symptoms are, and helps you keep track of how you're doing over time. Don't use online quizzes for this; quite honestly, they're not really good for anything except validation if you know you'll get a high score.
(3) Look at stuff other than personality disorders, too, and try to figure out why your interest skews towards specific disorders. For a long ass time, we believed we had StPD and did our absolute best to ignore any information to the contrary, because (due to our symptoms) if it wasn't StPD, the only thing it could be otherwise was schizophrenia, and we were scared shitless of the idea; at first because we were scared of the idea that our symptoms might've been so severe, but eventually because we were afraid to admit that we were wrong. (As I've said before, no shame in being wrong--do as I say, not as I do.)
Ultimately, I can't stop you from doing anything, and I can't force you to do anything either. I'm just a mentally ill guy with an internet connection. My life experiences have led me to this conclusion, and others may disagree with it--that's perfectly fine. Again, I am not a professional. You know yourself and your experiences the best, and I think by this point, you have enough understanding of yourself and the world to be able to figure out what'll be best for you and your health, given that you have the proper resources to do so. You are a being with life experience, even if it's less than others may have; you aren't a rock, and you aren't a three year old who still hasn't realized that touching the lit stove will equal a burned finger. I personally think that the way a lot of folks go about talking to and about teenagers who think they may have personality disorders is, frankly, infantilizing and invalidating, and it just ends up with traumatized and unsupported teenagers turning into traumatized and unsupported adults, with the added bonus of an extra helping of imposter syndrome to top it all off.
I hope you're doing well anon, and I hope you see this (sorry for responding so late lmao). Off into the world ye may go, hopefully with a bit more knowledge and idea of what to do next than you had before.
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