#i actually put a lot of effort into loving myself and looking over my behavior so i can be someone i like to spend time with

[heidi891]

I believe Snape is autistic

(FYI: I’m autistic myself and I have autistic children.)

He’s lonely. He doesn’t really have friends. We know of Lily, we also hear about Lucius Malfoy, but we don’t really see their friendship which in my opinion is much less close than fans believe. As a student he’s so alone that no one but Lily tries to stop the bullying.

He doesn’t participate in any social meetings. He’s quite miserable during the Christmas in Harry’s third year. He patrols the corridors and the grounds instead of attending the Yule Ball. He doesn’t stay for dinner after the Order meetings. He only attends the DE meetings because he has to.

His peers at school think he’s weird. Lily’s friends from Gryffindor don’t understand why she’s friends with him. When Harry asks why the Marauders bullied him, Sirius says he was different, weird, he was an "oddball". Autistic children and teenagers are often bullied because they are perceived as not normal, awkward, weird.

He doesn’t make a normal eye contact, he stares a bit too much. It can be partly explained by Legillimency, but he stared too much even as a teenager.

There’s a difference between how he speaks as a teenager and as an adult. It doesn’t sound entirely natural, he definitely had to put effort into that. It’s partly because he doesn’t want to sound like a poor man with a northern (?) accent, but autistic struggle with fluent communication may also be a reason.

He insists on precise definitions: Legilimency is not mind-reading, ghosts are not transparent but they are imprints of departed souls. He’s irritated that Harry has "no subtlety" and he doesn’t "understand fine distinctions".

He’s quite rude. He might be just *evil*, but he may just not fully understand how cruel he actually sounds. From his point of view he’s just honest and doesn’t beat around the bush. OK, maybe he’s a little mean, but not cruel… right?

He uses sarcasm (a lot of autistics actually do), but he doesn’t really appreciate Harry’s and other people’s sass, he treats their words too seriously.

He usually speaks coldly / calmly / without much emotion.

He’s usually dispassionate, he has limited facial expressions. Many autistic people also have a "resting b!tch face" unless they try to look more "normal". Perhaps he isn’t always as hateful as Harry thinks, perhaps it’s just his face.

He seems a little oblivious to other people’s emotional state and seems to analyse their behavior more intellectually.

He has special interests: Dark Arts / DADA and Potions.

He has his own collection of Potions ingredients, including rare ones, collection of weird jars (I guess they may contain some Potions ingredients, but also he may like them because of visual stimming aspect) and vast collection of books at home.

His Potions ingredients must be very orderly, he knows immediately that something is missing and what it is.

He "loves" rules. Students are breaking the rules? He takes points or gives detention. The Marauders are bullying him? He wants them expelled. (While Harry deals with the bullies on his own.) He’s caught Sirius whom he believes to be responsible for Lily’s death? He’s going to hand him over to the Ministry and the Dementors. (While Sirius and Remus want to murder Peter themselves.)

Since Snape likes rules and order, Harry who is a bit wild and unpredictable annoys him.

He doesn’t wash his hair as often as he should. It could be partly because of his poor background (he was neglected, he wasn’t taught to take a proper care of his hair, he didn’t even have a real bathroom as a child), partly because he has no one to look nice for, partly because of the Potions fumes. Autism might make him care less about his appearance. (He does care about hygiene though. Apparently he shaves regularly and Harry would certainly notice if Snape was dirty or smelly. His sallow skin and teeth have nothing to do with hygiene, it’s a result of his poverty and malnutrition.)

He stimms: He’s shredding leaves as a child. He’s flexing his fingers after the Shrieking Shack incident. During the Occlumency lessons he’s touching his lips with his finger while he’s thinking.

He has some sensory issues. He wears the same, a little baggy robes (they flutter as he walks). He’s sensitive to light: his Potions classroom is dim (it’s in the dungeons, but he could brighten it up with magic); he makes his DADA classroom dim, even though it’s no longer in the dungeons; when Harry comes to his first Occlumency lesson, Snape waits for him in a dark room. (You know, people don’t do things like that because they’re evil, it doesn’t make sense).

As a teenager he walks "like a spider" and generally he isn’t good at sports (we see him on a broom three times: in a memory of his unsuccessful flying lesson at school, being very pale and probably frightened after refereeing the Quidditch match in PS and trying to curse a DE and missing during the Battle of Seven Harrys).

John Nettleship whom Snape was partly based on was probably autistic.

#harry potter books #severus snape #severus snape meta #pro snape #actually autistic #autistic snape

[deirdreskye]

my whole life I've had all these weird habits and behaviors that make me look weird and make the people around me treat me like a freak and I've had all these weird boundaries that people routinely disregard because they don't make sense to anyone and the whole time I was just like, okay yeah, that's just how I deserve to be treated lol. but over the past year or so I've been learning a lot about autism stuff or whatever, really coming to terms with it, it's been very powerful tbh. Realizing just how much effort I've been putting into masking the whole time was crazy and realizing that maybe I deserve to let my guard down a little bit sometimes was so freeing. Like I can make my weird noises and do my weird repetitive movements when I'm just with my wife and my friends, it's not fair to myself to try and suppress that shit all the time. Maybe it's okay that I don't understand what people are saying to me like half the time and it's okay to ask people to repeat themselves. It's okay that I get really overwhelmed when there's more than like three things happening at once. I'm not just being difficult for no reason, I deserve to have people respect me. I'm not a lazy piece of shit, I'm not a freak, this is all actually fairly normal stuff and lots of the people I love deal with the exact same stuff. I dunno it's nice 😸

[algolagniaa]

I am bored bored bored bored bored and I don’t want to write about the things actually on my mind or happening in my life so I’m just going to critique this chart reading someone did for me a couple days ago

according to this person I AM going to get married just late…. like I shouldn’t stress for about 4 more years. and tbh a part of me is like “nooooo I want to be a young and beautiful bride” but if I shut that part up that sounds p ideal.

also told me to avoid dating anyone with Gemini placements…… girl everyone I’ve ever so much as had a crush on has Gemini placements. with the exception of my ex fiancé. I vibe with Gemini moons almost exclusively. the girl I have a crush on rn has a Gemini moon and I think it was the same day I got this reading that she told me she wants to kill me over and over. literally HOW am I supposed to turn that down. I’m only human faerie after all

mentioned that I need to be careful who I let close to me because a lot of people over the course of my life are very jealous/envious of me, particularly those with strong Sagittarius placements (which I’ve def found to be true). this is literally WILD to me like ik I’m pretty great but what do I have (other than looks and brains and intrigue and force of personality, okay maybe I get it) that you actually want. actually being me isn’t that great most of the time.

spouse will be sociable and emotionally intelligent and intelligent in general and religious/spiritual and “quaint” and love travel. pretty standard 9th house themes. also said she will have an “underlying intensity” which, yeah I hope so otherwise what are we doing together.

apparently my Uranus/Neptune conjunction in 1st makes me come off as unreliable and my Pluto placement makes me seem controlling/manipulative and too intense for many people. and those two things combined are why people decide to write me off as a bad person. which I guess makes sense bc what happens is they like all of a sudden see something about me they don’t like and then act scared of me??? even when there is genuinely no reason to be????? anyway apparently one of the big things I’m supposed to learn that will help mitigate this is to treat friendships more causally and not expect everything to be a super deep connection. but I feel like I already DO THAT with a lot of people + also when I do that I end up playing with them like dolls or chess pieces. and it’s fun but not satisfying. well whatever I have astrological license to treat my friends worse I guess

ages 24-25 were supposedly years of great personal growth and healing for me but all I did in those years was get abused and lose all my friends and have everyone tell me that actually I was abusive and a narcissist with 17 personality disorders including one that is straight up not in the DSM. and go to a bunch of therapy that didn’t work. and get addicted to weed and gain 30lbs and have everyone in my life collaborate on a giant gaslighting effort to convince me I was dangerously obese and they were worried for my health. and obsessively read r/amitheasshole trying to figure out the rules for Correct behavior. and cut myself to win arguments. and get kicked out of thanksgiving drunk in the middle of the night. and move to Spokane and have my first great love vow to hate me forever. and continue to get abused in Spokane, and meet some friends, and lose those friends bc I pissed off a serial killer dude, oh also I pissed off someone in the mafia I forgot that part, and get abused more and have a dead bedroom in my relationship and lock my entire personality up in a box and put it in a deep dark corner of my mind and give up on ever being happy. also I cried on my birthday both years. where’s the growth and healing…. I guess I hiked a lot in that time? and went to the gym but my heart was NOT in it

apparently I am v talented at communicating, networking, and making connections and can use my gifts to acquire money and power if I so choose. girl I so wish that were true

was also told what themes I will focus on during the next couple years of my life and apparently this year my focuses are: relationships, marriage, contracts, business partners, equality, sharing, interpersonal style. and I can see a couple of these but for the most part….. can’t relate.

#you guys don’t get to know the overarching themes anymore now sorry #all you get to know is I burnt off the ends of my hair. again

[oh-my-damn]

You know what, I read through all your post yesterday and today and I want to thank you for shining a light on this problematic behavior. I also want to thank you for allowing me to see his relationship with Jenny from a different perspective.

Jenny like Alba was agreeable in the beginning. I mean she ended her marriage so she could be with Chris. It was all puppy love and dream seventh grade boyfriend at the start. She enjoys being around him and his circle. She loves that she include in everything from Vegas to Disney. I’m her mind she got the quarterback at the price of altering her personality to fit his.

Eventually all puppy love fades and that’s where couples struggle. She begins to question his fuckboy behavior. Why he feels the need to constantly party, go to strip clubs, but the majority of their time together is spent at his house doing what he wants spewing his pseudo intellectual bullshit.

He really fooled Jenny too. She was in a vulnerable time in her life after ending her marriage. It looks like he love bombed her by showing up to her premiere, confer shows and book reading. Spending time with her support system was easy because it’s a few suburbs over so he really doesn’t need to put much effort in.

She starts causing too much trouble and becoming less agreeable so he ends it. He goes back to his fuckboy ways and now Jenny is stuck with the realization that she left her husband for this douche. They talk about each other in interviews, looked awkward AF at the premiere and that’s that.

Until late summer/early fall when the realization hits Chris that he doesn’t need to pick up women and have a FWB rotation with ATL women if he just apologizes. I’m sure he hit her with the it’ll be different this time, I promise to change speech and she fell for it. Nothing changes. It’s just the same shit different day. They continue their relationship because their both in ATL working so it’s easy and convenient. Then they both wrap and the curtains lift up and she realizes she got duped again.

Once a fuckboy always a fuckboy. Chris strikes me as the guy who expects his meat and potatoes on the table when he gets home. I partially blame his upbringing because that’s how he was raised. He had a stay at home mom who did everything for her family and I think he wants the same for himself. If he’s going after an independent woman it’s strictly for the purposes of stripping her independence away from her because I think he gets a big thrill from it. It’s clear he likes being in control. Being in control gives him power over you and your life. If he’s the sole breadwinner then you have to depend on him and can’t really leave. He boxes them in without them even realizing it.

THIS. I COULD NOT HAVE SAID IT BETTER MYSELF.

And the end part !!

I actually mused over this not too long ago bc as you may or may not know, I started writing a book (before all of this) about Chris in a secret relationship and it is still ongoing and when this came out it really spun me for a loop and I couldn't write it for a long time.

Anyway, in it, she's a lawyer, so not in the industry, and they keep it quiet to protect her.

But I had this written down before the articles came out and stuff in my drafts, its an interaction with them that is SO REAL to me bc this is legit what everyone should remember when in a relationship (I know I'm more aware of this due to law school but its an important lesson)

I'm so sorry this is long but I didn't know how to cut it down without losing the point of it, so I'm gonna put it under a cut.

I don't think many of my readers realized how important a conversation like this in a relationship where one partner makes a hell of a lot more money than the other. It's easy to get swept up and give in to it, but then what happens when its over? You're alone, standing there, having given up on your dreams, your safety net, for what? A boyfriend?

Any lawyer knows to never do this because we've seen the cases but I can tell you that it happens way more often than it should.

Anyway, here it is, read if you want, my point is that I agree with everything you said so much !!!!

This is the excerpt from the stranger with the money/work dynamic talk:

"Fuck work," he grumbles sleepily, his voice deep and groggy, "Stay." 

I let out a small laugh, pushing my back into his chest as he wraps a long leg over my hip to press into me more insistently. 

"I can't," I reply with a smile, finding one of his hands and entwining our fingers, "I need to work." 

"Why?" He half whines, huffing against my neck, "Work is no fun, stay here with me. I promise to give you a good time." 

I chuckle, "Well, I need work for money. And you know, that's without mentioning that entire 'I want to achieve my dreams' thing." 

"I have money," Chris murmurs against my neck, "Take some of mine." 

I snort out a laugh, shaking my head in response, "I don't want your money, I want my own money." 

Chris huffs jokingly, his warm breath tickling the back of my neck, "Are you saying my money's no good?"

"Mhmm," I giggle, "That's exactly what I'm saying." 

"How dare you," Chris grumbles, his arms releasing their hold for only a moment before he turns me onto my back. He leans on his forearm to hover over me, a teasing glint in his cerulean blues, "What's wrong with my money?"

I grin as I look up at him, reaching up to card my fingers through his mussed up morning hair, "I didn't earn your money. I earned mine." 

"So?" He questions, leaning down to nudge my nose with his own, "If I wanted to share my money with you, it would technically become yours." 

"Yeah, but that's not how it works," I chuckle, my hand trailing down the side of his face to stroke his beard, "I wouldn't feel comfortable spending money that wasn't my own." 

That makes his brows furrow. He tilts his head, blue eyes gazing over my face before he asks, "You don't think you'd.. ever, feel comfortable with that?"

I mirror his curious look, letting my fingers trail over his cheek, "What do you mean?" 

"Weeelllll...." he drags out the word, maneuvering around until he can place his beefy body between my legs. His upper body hovers over mine, leaning on his forearms, as I let my fingers run through his soft locks. 

"What if," he continues, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "For example, hypothetically, we were married. Would you still feel weird about it?"

I let out a surprised chuckle, tilting my head as I look up at him. My fingers card through his hair as I shake my head, "No, if we were married it would be different." 

"Why's that?" he muses, leaning into my touch with a soft smile on his face. 

"Because then we'd be married," I reply with a smile, "Being married is a whole different type of security. I wouldn't have to worry about becoming reliant on you, or your money, or your lifestyle, and risk that you'd be able to pull the rug out from under me suddenly."

His brows furrow, and I quickly add, "Not that I think you would! Of course not, I just mean logistically, like, rationally, as a lawyer, we know the pitfalls in these types of situations. Becoming reliant on your boyfriend is never a good idea." 

#mandy answers #and she uses her own writing to make a point lmao #what else is new #the stranger #chramelia

[irreplaceable-jo]

A Year Since My Breakup

I was going to write a journal entry yesterday, which marks a year from the date I broke off my engagement and broke up with Tony altogether. That was a life changing decision and I was very proud to finally put myself first. The 10-year relationship took a toll on me and I thought I mentally prepared myself well enough to move on. I I knew I practically had no standards now but I started by thinking about what I was not looking for in a guy. Then I came up with a preliminary list to use as a guideline:

Independent person who takes good care of himself, not having anyone to worry about him

Someone I genuinely like as a person, personality wise

Someone I enjoy spending time with

Someone I can have fun with

Sense of humor

Makes time for me & respects my time

Considerate & willing to make compromises & meet me halfway (not selfish/self centered)

Acknowledges my feelings and would not be too prideful to apologize or admit fault

Doesn’t snore

No addictive behavior (alcohol, drugs, gambling)

My forever plus one and bestie!

That was all I could think of at the time but I realize there are more important traits I left out. I also didn't realize the real triggers and self-esteem issues surface only after I got into a new relationship. I was most confident when I was single because I was getting a lot of attention without really trying. A lot of my guy friends actually told me they wished I was single sooner so they would've had a chance with me though I had no interest in them. It was reassuring to know that how highly they thought of me but I had no intention in dating anyone I know who I have friendzoned over the years. When I first met Lucas, I thought he would be a safe choice. My first impression of him is that he is a little shy, very respectful, and seemed like a well behaved stable guy. He was proactive and consistent with his efforts and made it clear that he was not seeing any other person but me. I appreciate his honesty and sincerity.

Then my insecurity was activated once he started getting comfortable with me and making comments about body image. It made me feel insecure for being so skinny and I struggled to gain back the weight I lost. He made it very clear that he's attracted to curvier bodies and that made me feel undesirable. So I added a new requirement to my list:

12. Someone who loves and accepts me for who I am. Not looking to change me in any way.

After I addressed my insecurities with him several times, he finally understood and stop making comments whenever he sees someone hot/attractive. I also started therapy to improve my self-esteem.

Then comes the bigger issue after I found out he rekindled his friendship with the girl he used to like during our Singapore trip. This had been going on since October and I was pretty much kept in the blind at first. Up until recently, I finally met her in-person and it didn't make things better. For someone who claims to not like to take initiatives, he sure took a lot of initiatives to welcome her back to his life in open arms. So now, I added two more to my list:

13. Someone who makes me feel secure about myself 14. Someone who puts me first even when I don't prioritize myself

Although I am having doubts of my current relationship, I have learned a lot from it in the process. I learned to be vulnerable and open up to him about my feelings and he has been very receptive to my feedback. There is still a lot of work on his part to clean up the mess he started but I am willing to give him a chance. That's what it means to take risks in relationships and hoping that he is worth it. It does hurt like a bitch when he doesn't set his boundaries, making me look like a fool. I need to stand firm in my non-negotiables and hold him accountable. I deserved to be respected, loved, and his number one priority.

Things to work on: -be more selfish and prioritize myself and my feelings first -don't be too accommodating/understanding and set clear boundaries

[yeonban]

20, is there a ship you wanted to play, but couldn’t yet? 21, what’s something that immediately turns you off from shipping with someone?

SHIPPING QUESTIONS FOR THE MUN - SFW EDITION!

20. is there a ship you wanted to play, but couldn’t yet?

Tbh most of the time I don't really have any ships in mind when picking up a muse since canons typically fail to sell their dynamics to me, but there have been some dynamics over the years that I've loved and thought about rping only to never actually do! From the current muse list, I think this only applies to Nikolai's relationship with Fyodor, Soma's with Tsubasa, Subject Two's with Dottore, Kokichi's with Kasumi, Yeong-gi's with Shin-ae and Fukuchi's with Fukuzawa.

The thing is... to me ic development means SO much more than only canon scenes, so I'm incredibly picky with who I ship with. Plus sometimes a random ship sprouts out of nowhere via ic interactions that completely overrules the one I originally had in mind from canon & sometimes it even makes me ship the canon one less bc of how much I adore the new one from rp AGDSAJDSAJK which in turn makes the one from canon never happen on my blog bc my blog policy is pretty much strictly singleship for every muse (and I don't regret that at all! it allows me to pour my everything into the ship that does happen)

There's also the fact that some of these dynamics require a lot of development, and I mean a lot. It means plenty of time and effort put into making them happen since I heavily dislike just jumping into a ship only for the sake of having one (hence most of my ships being slowburn); it means having a good rapport with the mun behind the blog, and it also means overall being alright with making some compromises to ship with me (ex. being fine with my slow snail speeds; only shipping that muse with me; so on and so forth)!

21. what’s something that immediately turns you off from shipping with someone?

There are a few, but the first thing that comes to mind is blog hopping. I don't mean having a lot of blogs since I'm completely fine with that, but rather making a blog only to abandon it 3 days later for another muse and never use it again. I don't mind if that's the person's style, and I'm open to doing friendships or other dynamics! I just can't get myself to attempt a romantic dynamic when there's simply... no time for it to bloom?

Another thing is pushy behavior & "collectionism". I've had experiences in the past where people only wanted to interact to ship with me and they made that abundantly clear, and there have also been times where we had a ship going and the person decided to simultaneously start a ship with another portrayal of my muse without discussing it with me first, plus an experience where the second we stopped shipping they took the development we had and started from there with another portrayal which to this day makes me ??? Basically, if you want a ship only to say you've rped it and then add it to a collection... I'm not the person you're looking for!

There are more overall but as to not rant I'll only say 3 ahdasjdsjg the last one would be heavily implying a ship with me as if it's a given. Like I mentioned, I don't ship many things the fandoms do, and ngl most of the time I dislike the fandom favorites, so coming to me convinced that I want to ship that particular ship without ever asking me even once is just... a no.

#* ooc. / posts. #starspurn #Thank youuu!! #Me and shipping have a very... complex relationship going on DAGSDJSAHDDJDJS the stars truly have to align for it to happen I fear

[zenfulfairy]

A Health Journey a Year In

A year ago I started working with a weight loss clinic in my area. 30-minute a week sessions with a physicians assistant who would essentially give me lessons on eating habits and almost act as my therapist. I've seen her every week for a year. And I've lost 29 pounds. That may not seem like a lot to some, but after 8 years of being overweight and a lifetime of binge eating, being able to lose that much with semi-consistency feels like a miracle to me.

I'm 27-years-old. I live in a city, I'm married and have been with the same partner for 12 years. I work as a therapist for kids on IEPs in schools. I have good friends, a wonderful husband, lots of hobbies and a good overall work life. We aren't rich but make enough to live comfortably. I have a good life, a beautiful life. A life I've worked hard for and am grateful for. But like every life, it's not perfect. I've struggled with anxiety, binge eating, and what I've begun to suspect over the years as possible undiagnosed ADHD. For a long time I was actually okay with being overweight. Despite some natural insecurities, I've always loved myself, and being overweight didn't change that. Then at the doctors office a year ago I was told I was pre-diabetic with high cholesterol and not great blood pressure. "Nothing to medicate, but now's the time to make changes before we have to medicate." The floor dropped out from under me. I went home that day and looked at the mirror, really looked, and didn't recognize myself. I realize I hadn't in years. I saw the toll my secret binge-eating behavior had taken on myself over the years. The idea of having issues many don't develop well into middle age scared me.

Don't get me wrong, it wasn't my first time trying to lose weight. Like anyone who doesn't fit the weight norms, I had tried before. Plenty of times. First, I did it because my mom told me to. Growing up, my mother was overweight as well. As a child I wasn't, but it was her greatest fear I would become overweight. She watched what I ate like a hawk and made sure I exercised. But, as it turns out, that intensive level of control exerted on me as a child bit her in the ass when I went off to college and immediately began binge-eating. I was so excited to not have someone control what I ate that I went nuts. At the end of my freshman year I had already gained a significant amount of weight and my mother, for my birthday, gave me a weight watchers subscription. She told me my family had had a family meeting about me and was concerned and that it was high time for me to board the diet train she'd been on my whole life. She yo-yo dieted everything in the book, and in the 2000s that meant a lot of scary stuff. Weight watchers had never truly worked for her long-term, but she had had just enough semi-short term success with it that she was confident putting me on it. It didn't last long, of course. You can't force someone to change. In fact, it only did the opposite, making my secret binge-eating so much worse. By my junior year my whole family was horrified with me. For them, fat meant no longer beautiful. And beauty, in my family, was very important.

But here's the thing, beauty isn't important to me. Never has been. I love myself for more than just my looks, always have. So the weight didn't bother me, not fully. I would make the occasional dieting effort every once in a while, but never took it very seriously. It wasn't until last summer when my weight became a health issue that I truly found my issue with my weight. For me, I feel beautiful, even when I was at my heaviest. But I was a beauty I didn't recognize. I stopped seeing myself in my face and body. And between that and my health, I knew it was time to make a change.

In the past year I've worked hard to curb my binge-eating. I started with tracking food (not calories) and working on lower carbs and sugars (not getting rid of them). My weight loss clinic PA wanted me to have balance and not restrict intensely. I started exercising 6 months in. It's been slow progress with lots of up and downs. And I want to do better now that I'm pretty much 30 pounds in. I want to try new things, take on challenges, work on my fitness, get better at cooking. I find I'm more dedicated when I write things down. But we will see.

#weight loss #health #fitness

[harleythealter]

So I’m scrolling on Pinterest and see this

(Borrows from Megan on Pinterest who screenshotted from somebody else)

And I just… feel so confused because over and over I find posts where I relate to the entire thing… usually ones about eye contact. Or this entire thing. But then I’m like… there’s NO WAY I’m autistic. And not because I’m in denial but because of actual things. And then I wonder if it’s just because I’m too empathetic and ‘I get the world too well’ to be autistic (this is what somebody told me once.) which… I don’t know how to express the level of effort I put into ‘getting the world’ and doing it ‘right’ and not destroying everything for the way I function differently than others-whether if it points to autism or nothing. I also am conflicted because I’m aware that I’m similar to my dad in how my brain functions and he’s autistic. So some of this has come up because I reflect my dad significantly but I think because of all the work I’ve put into learning communication instead of just giving up on interactions, that my outcome is different. I also think that because my dad functioned differently than neurotypicals, it wasn’t odd or abnormal if I didn’t act neurotypical but who knows because I isolated myself so I wasn’t a problem because my family had enough going on.

But I saw a post… sorry that I forgot who posted it, but a portion of the evidence they gathered was that Autism is predominantly a genetic trait, and if I’m right, the person said that kids who are born in households that have an involved autistic parent probably won’t notice “odd behaviors” because it’s not odd to that family. And maybe there was something about less trauma being in those households because those children aren’t expected to change their functions which led to less diagnoses in this scenario. And that made me wonder if something similar was between me and my dad, where because he was used to a one track mind, it wasn’t odd that I, his daughter was born with one.

A lot more had been passed down to me such as being an introvert but I actually love interactions, but what drains me is the environments and the anticipation of being misunderstood or confusing somebody and being worried about talking too much about things I love. There’s more.

I’ve also thought about our coping mechanisms, the similarities there. But I wonder sometimes about if I’m not considered autistic or neurodivergent because of the way I was raised. My dad was never diagnosed. He just learned that he had to rephrase questions to get an answer, and so I was taught that. I’m learning more things he taught me, just by example, because he wasn’t home very often.

So not only did my dad teach me how to cope with the world, but also I think my mom influenced it too. She kinda just made me focus on my creativity and stories. Which… we’re wild to say the least and seemingly pretty normal ig? Idk. I feel so uneducated but ‘educated people’ seem to be neurotypicals who didn’t gather good evidence. So I’m mostly looking to the community for a bit of help here because I feel a bit clueless.

Anyways. Back to the point. My mom considers that maybe how she raised me just made me not autistic nor neurodivergent… but I wonder if it’s maybe just because I don’t have trauma around how I function… which could make me very different than a large portion of the neurodivergent community who had been shamed and traumatized for who they are… and so am I just different because I don’t function the same as others? And also everybody who is neurodivergent is different than eachother, I know that. But I also don’t know if I’m being weird. Because my mom strengthened my empathy-also strengthened by trying to fix my family and being the right person for everybody. Which I’ve also been told that changing personalities and trying to be so accommodating to others is not a trait of neurodivergent peoples… but only have I been told that by neurotypical people soooooo is it really valid? Also… I have seen that in the neurodivergent community??? So essentially I’m just confused.

And maybe it’s not autism, but I think I’ve just brushed off all my symptoms of what ever it is because my parents don’t believe having a label makes it easier. So I always see a post and think “wow… that’s real to me. Well, that’s just me. Silly me. :P I bet I don’t function like them on “that level” And by “that level,” I mean in a way that neurotypicals would consider diagnosis-worthy. And so I brush off all of these things.

I strongly connect to a lot of things over and over. Like executive dysfunction, I’m very specific about how things feel, I have tics, and stims, things I just absolutely cannot handle without panicking inside. And I resent myself because I just explain that those are things everybody deals with. And I invalidate myself in many ways. I also resent myself because I hear so many of my thoughts sound very ableist(I think this is the right word) and-I JUST CAUGHT MYSELF always added endings and clauses so I can’t be caught being wrong. Anyways. Side track. [Also about my stims and tics I just tell myself I’m being fake. Isn’t that rude???][edit]

I’m trying to explore this. My dad doesn’t use any labels because he got this far in life without them and doesn’t see a point in needing them now. That works for him, but I’m tired of not knowing why all of these things add up to me and how I break down to all of these little things.

Additional thought idk where to place. I’ve been told my way of thinking is too organized to be neurodivergent and that really fucking sucked because it felt limiting as if it were different it wouldn’t be ‘okay’ or ‘good’ or ‘acceptable’. And also it’s not organized at all. I’m so confused all the time about what I’m trying to say-actually. About how to say it. And it feels as though all the factors that limit me from being neurodivergent are all so… surface level? Is that fair? they make me wonder “what?” As I try to process the logic, and I just don’t get it.

Bothering things-I’m writing down just cuz I remember them

-loud, busy environments

-crowded spaces

-certain clothes on certain days

-my family chewing. As in I can no longer eat and my ears are crawling with bugs

-overlapping sounds

-one conversation when the room is silent

-people talking during presentations-it’s so fucking hard to focus

-no noise

-that sound my car radios make when a singer sings an ‘s’

-more things

Anyways. please, share thoughts. I’m looking for some direction from people who actually live this life- or one with similarities to mine.

Plz reblog so I get more thoughts from a few people.

Also I’m not trashing my parents. It’s just observations. And this is unedited soooo you get what you get :P

#autism #autism? #harleythealter #my thoughts #looking for your thoughts #what do you think? #neurodiverse stuff #neurotypical things #childhood things

[lightsinthesky]

Those Who Are Open Shall Receive

And that’s the problem.

I’m in a place I’ve never been before. For so many reasons. But specifically in terms of my feelings, my ability to endure things in sobriety, and having an understanding of self as I deal with all of this in a period of profound transformation…

The fact is, I’m completely closed off to even the possibility of someone or something new (yes, I’m talking about that thing again.) When my first love ended, I activated slut mode and dated around. I got zero fulfillment and dove deep into emotionally reckless behaviors that had been starting to manifest in my descent into real alcoholism. I was acting opposite my own values and principles and I cultivated exactly the results you’d expect: pure, endless misery and unmanageability. After my second love ended, I was at least open to something better. I pretty immediately adopted the mindset of “well, that didn’t work, so I wonder what else there is…” There was, of course, a back and forth in that relationship, but ultimately I went forward knowing that I wouldn’t “never love again…”

But right now? I am closed off to even the concept as a distant possibility. I’m not seeking to date, to fall in love again, to engage in anything at all, honestly. But the real struggle is that it’s all stemming from a newly formed insecurity that I won’t be open to it again, even when the “time comes.” A lot of fear has crept in in the wake of all of this and it stems from my wildly misplaced certainty that I’d found everything beyond what I could ever hope for. Again, the whole “being on step 9 in my first year of sustained recovery efforts” doesn’t much help…

“Time. T-I-M-E, Justin.” And I know, I know, I know. But this is my space to complain, so bear with me. One day, maybe future-me will look back on this and laugh or forget, but in the present moment, this is what occupies my woes.

I’ve embraced fully my program of recovery by the example set, the written words, and its practices and principles. There are some suggestions outside of that that I don’t put much stock into. One of them is “don’t date in the first year.” I never believed in that, but now I’m beginning to wonder if there’s a viable reason for that suggestion… I’m in the most vulnerable and emotionally raw state of my entire adulthood as I work these steps and self-actualize. Maybe that’s not the best time to risk this level of heartbreak… but I guess I never really believed in “timing,” either.

What’s funny is that in the aftermath, I actually do feel ready. Not in the sense that I in any way desire to seek it out (see above), but in the sense of “maybe now would’ve been a better time.” But that’s just a dangerous game of “should/could/would.” It’s just another version of “what if?” And that is an utterly, devastatingly useless game to play.

One reason I can’t kick myself over the whole timing element is that I wasn’t even in the headspace to receive it when it happened. I wasn’t open to it, let alone seeking it. Until magic met me with a beautiful smile. A lightning bolt straight to the heart. Emotional cardiac arrest. And I don’t regret it. If anything, it serves as evidence that, even when my brain isn’t open to the concept, my heart always knows.

“But you were wrong.”

No, I wasn’t. I loved the only way I know how: with everything I had. That is not my failing. I can’t dictate the outcome, but I’m left knowing how sincerely I loved and how profoundly it affected me and all that it meant to me. And I carry that confidence forward knowing that I am forever capable as much as I may doubt myself in times like these.

I think it comes down less to managing expectations versus maintaining awareness of all possibilities - even the ugly ones. Anything is possible, after all. And that’s true for disaster and success in equal measure.

But I suppose at the end of the day, I just need my heart to catch up to my brain with - you guessed it - time. Any kind of emotional negativity slows time to a crawl. And in total ecstasy, there isn’t even close to enough of it. It’s so strange to experience each and only have an understanding of the one you’re presently in. I wish I had that Billy Pilgrim ability to become unstuck in it… 

But I write this with an almost amused sense of observation and reflection. It’s the first day in weeks I can honestly say I’m just more emotionally tired than anything. The pain is lessening significantly (hey, look at you go, time!) and I’m just kind of doing my thing. I’m realizing just how boring that can be sometimes, but I guess that’s a pretty first world problem.

Either way, now that I’ve written another string of what was once incoherent thoughts in my head, I feel better. I know intellectually, emotionally, and spiritually that everything I seek is attainable. There is ample evidence of literally all of it surrounding me.

No timelines. Just the willingness, belief, and hope of it all.

Still standing, still moving…

#recovery

[builder051]

I'll take Sherlock and Glee for the asks game if you please.

Sherlock (2010s starring Benedict Cumberbatch)--100% of brain lights up in complete delight... until it all starts to go downhill

Firstly, as you all know, I am on the autism spectrum, and so is one of my biological parents. That is NOT an excuse for improper social behavior, but giving you the background information about possibly how and why happens (or happens to such an extent) could lend some context.

I love to create. Any kind of content. Writing, drawing, painting, photo editing, sewing, setting margins for business letters... the list could go on. It makes me so happy to take on a project that feels fun and feasible. Something I learned when I was young was, basically, if you don't have it, you don't necessarily have to buy it. Look at your materials, or at cheaper materials, and create what you want exactly the way you want it (like, if the beaded princess crown at the Busch Gardens gift shop is, in fact, too big for your head, we can hit up Walmart and get wire and beads and make a crown that fits you, in any color you want).

I've carried that attitude through most of my life. Like, nice-fitting jeans from Goodwill-- I can hem them, the length doesn't matter.

That's actually given me a lot of confidence in my abilities, and it brings out ingenuity with problem solving, especially when it's crunch time (like, signed paper needs to be delivered to the customer--whose office is in Montana--before a certain deadline in not-my-timezone? No prob. Run to my boss's office, hand him a pen, run to the fax machine, run to the phone, let the Montana contact know the doc has been sent, and bam. (Sure, the expectation may be for an engineering review, and the expected delivery method may be SharePoint link, but a signature from the maximum authority and the convenience of instant delivery? No one can complain about that.)

Things start to go south, though, when my efforts (which I consider to be "good energy," if that makes sense) don't wind up doing what I want them to do, or things turn out to be much more difficult than expected. For example, when using black paper and a white marker for a drawing, it will become clear, when one tests the quality of several white markers on a scrap paper, that some are better quality, or better suited to the tasks, than others.

But say I started with the Crayola iridescent paint marker (nice tool for outline/contrast, but not a great choice for linework or edges), and my drawing is not showing up. I must choose, then, to

1) scrap my drawing (and maybe do it again with something like a matte brush tip)

2) go over my drawing again (and again) with the Crayola in hopes of improving what I already have (though with equal probability of ruining it), or

3) become a frustrated mess of hopelessly selfish human and hide under my desk with all the dinosaurs and paper clay and other odds and ends I use for art with my kids.

More often than not, it's choice #3. I don't exactly know how to, like, have frustration for a thing, and, while still acknowledging it as important and real and meaningful (enough so that I still have desire to make the thing and make it in my own correct way), put it away in my brain's side pocket and move to perform different tasks. I tend to try and try and try to bulldoze my way through, risking breaking my supplies (because I so hate leaving projects unfinished, or with the current step/chapter unfinished), or I become sad and feel negatively about myself and my skills and the fact that I will have to put everything away in order to take a break (kids and cats, lol), then get it all out again for my next try.

Glee--cute and quirky, and then it was cutting edge, and then it was the BEST, and then it started tilting the other direction, and it ultimately fell on its own sword and became the absolute WORST

A lot of things, mostly books and classic television programs, that have been considered from, broadly, 1950 to 2020, as "things we will pass down to our grandchildren," including, but not limited to, the following:

Harry Potter-- and that's sad. That's a travesty. Some aged wine grows more precious over time. Some just goes off.

Dr. Seuss--Because he had an actual career, and writing nonsense books was only part of it. I respect that particular treasury. But he was a guy. With a life. And, in comparison, like, even if Bohemian Rhapsody is a glory film, it doesn't erase the bad choices that still stand, unchangeable, in their influence on modern history.

Mr. Rogers (ok, he helps kids learn to tie their shoes... but, I kid you not, one skit in the world of make believe had a puppet who identifies as a woman, performing in a (very fictional) talent show, during which she was dressed up as, and pretending to be, a kitten, who was singing (horrendously) an original song, in which the lyrics begged the Moon (cognizant, apparently, and generous) to give her a star as a birthday present. What the everloving fuck, here? Not to yuk anyone's yum, but... a grown man, who has created an OC 'verse for children (his main consumers) and those who watch with them. I'm seeing... possible ageplay x furry x accompanist? what accompanist? x personification of balls of rock x obvious greed and pestering as a method to be rewarded x light references to Wicca and Paganism (I don't care, but some people might. Could bring on some leading questions from the littles, too.

Magical family recipes that are actually on the back of a can of condensed soup

BMI (used as an indicator of health--Have you ever seen a male ballet dancer? Yeah, like, in jeans on the bus he just looks like a dude. In tights and a tank, he looks like Secretariat. Depending on his height, he probably weighs something like, 1.5x the expected--visually based--BMI. Put him in high-healthy, verging on overweight. He probably eats 3,000+ calories of healthy food on the daily, and regular deadlifts, eh, 100 to 130ish pound partners? See? V healthy. Chart means nothing.)

Binarily- segregated restrooms (Ok, have you seen a toilet stall in Iceland? They're mostly non-gendered, at least in big public places, like the airport. The regular stalls--usually, like, 20 of them in a row, with a couple of handicapped/accessible/baby-changing stalls on the end-- contain one regular toilet. The door and walls go from 1cm above the floor to 1cm below the ceiling. All have sliding locks that operate only from the inside, and outside hardware is barely visible; it's just the flat (no screwdriver marks) heads of the screws that brace the locks to the doors. Then there are sinks. That pour out water. And pumps. For soap. And paper towels. The entire population has a grip on what purpose bathrooms serve, as well as what people do in bathrooms, and the differentiation of both private and public spaces in order to meet most efficiently serve the population.)

Frosted Flakes is (are) the sugary sweet part(s) of a complete breakfast. (!) Conjugate that, Tony Tiger. and WTF is a "complete breakfast?"

Math problems about trains. Nobody cares about crossing paths anymore. It's all arrival time, landing time, time zone, jet lag, how late to your meeting you can be before it's considered rude (and how disheveled are you allowed to look before high fashion hits slobbiness)?

Filler foods, which is a ridiculous American ploy to short farmers and natural food producers by making those goods more expensive and then creating a "store generic brand" version of the same product that's cheaper. Yay, save 20 cents! But that packet of breakfast sausages you just put in your cart is made of mostly soy and meat... leftovers. The brand that's beside it, that has the "naturally raised" sticker on it, that one's made of humanely farmed meat and probably a few salts, spices, and safe preservatives."Far East" instant couscous? Made in America, it's heavily mixed with condensed powdered dairy and soy filler. Kosher couscous pearls, you know, from that tiny aisle with grape jelly and yummy crackers? One ingredient. One! Whole wheat. You do not need a chemistry lab to make couscous.

Why am I so passionately angry about this? I'm allergic to dairy, soy, cashews, and oats. The ONLY milk I can drink is almond. When I eat bites of oral food (usually for social fun), I have to ask for every last ingredient to make sure I will not cause myself to have an allergic reaction, which is different from a gastroparesis flare up, which need to be medically treated differently, lest further damage be caused by overtreatment or symptoms left to stew and spread. My big kid and I are also touch-sensitive to oats, so, in addition to not tolerating whole-grain bread, we cannot use many lotions and shampoos (marketed for sensitive skin, lol) because they contain colloidal oats. There are even exam gloves on the market, meant to help nurses with dry skin, which I do understand is a problem, that contain colloidal oat powder (inside) and have a regular silicone outside. There is too high a risk for touch-transfer, though, and we frequently have to ask and remind practitioners to NOT use the oat-poisoned gloves.

ADDITIONALLY, there are something like 3 or 4 types of formula in existence for sustaining us tubies that don't contain at least one of the major allergens (usually dairy or soy). Of those few, at least one has CORN SYRUP as its primary ingredient. Ok, yeah, fortify the tubies and give them easily accessible carbs to keep them running. But, um, nutrition? Like, the absolute and awful, yet hilarious, truth that pirates (yes, of the caribbean) were healthier than individuals of European military forces traveling by sea, because the pirates ate a more balanced diet--fruit, bread, alcohol (aka sanitary hydration), and the redcoats died of things like scurvy because nobody thought to bring a lemon wedge to go with their hardtack and tea... People don't subsist on corn syrup. They can't exercise. They can't gain lung capacity, the ability to walk long distances, the critical thinking to problem solve and maintain self-care and do work. There is ONE type of tubie formula our family depends on (well, 2, because there's grown-up and pediatric) on the market that is allergen-free, pea protein based, contains natural minerals, and mixes with water and other dissolvable powdered supplements. We're immensely blessed to have it. We have to bring our own if anyone's in the hospital, since it's "rare." But OMG, the stuff has saved my life.

Forgive the ranting. I like to explain myself.A lot.

#starbucks sunday #ask game #ask meme #probably tmi

[munceee-old-account]

take time for urself, make sure to make YOURSELF happy, and dont prioritize other people’s happiness over yours. you shouldnt have to make ppl happy! or apologize! or nothin! the only person worth that effort is yourself, only try to make other people happy when you feel like it! try not to engage in self destructive behaviors, and set a time and date for doing work! doing work is always going to suck, but its gotta happen. make sure to prepare yourself for it, and speed through! remember, youre important, you got this!!

wow!!!!! this is some real and true stuff i wanna incorporate this into my mind somehow!! maybe i will print a copy and eat it. and then i will print another copy and put it somewhere i look a lot. thanks for this! actually tbh the idea of "i have to make other ppl happy number one" is literally the reason that i haven't been seeing my therapist which is dumb as hell but that's what that rhetoric does to me ig.

so new ruling. i prioritize making other ppl happy number one WHEN IT MAKES ME HAPPY TOO and it's awesome bc im making myself happy and added bonus! other ppl. currently i have the reversed rhetoric with "im making other ppl happy and as an added bonus myself."

I'll keep away from the self-destructive behavior. idea: maybe if i was more open about my addiction to my friends, that could help it go away? it's an interesting idea.

SCHEDULING i have actually NEVER considered that as an idea!?!?! woah!?! huh! i think it could work, and if it doesn't fix the problem alone im sure it'll help!!

i should confront my problems! even if i'm "playing my role well" with these, that's NO reason. that reasoning is how i developed my addiction in the first place!

i DO GOT THIS! i really HAVE THE POWER! i am IMPORTANT! i CAN! i am CAPABLE.

anyways. this helps a LOT i love you. thank you so much for this. i dont know who you are but. thank you so very very much.

[lovedlovingly]

.

#i... swear... #last months so many of the ppl i follow and some mutuals have started to post self deprecating shit 24/7 #and i just can't #im gonns have to go on an unfollow spree asap im going insane #like o cant handle it the [jokes] about how they hate themselves and their friends is just too much for me i can't relate #but i also don't wanna pretty unfollow when its 1/30 posts... but it just... it gets to me so hard #i dont wanna come here to hate myself like.. i feel for u having ha ha fun about hating yourself but were not alike #i actually put a lot of effort into loving myself and looking over my behavior so i can be someone i like to spend time with #i just feel like im gonna end up following 5ppl at this rate... its so much out of the blue #but my dash is actually not fun for me rn.. its just... effort no matter what i do lol #effort to stay sane scrolling down - effort if i start deciding to unfollow and what i base it on #🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄 #it used to be exactly what i needed constantly 😭 i cant stand this shift im so irritated they'd talk to themselves and others like this #no its not easy to change and love yourself - but at least I'm trying and why i get so upset by it! #because it's hard work! and youre not helping #i sound like a 5y old stamping their feet and puffing their cheeks rn but thats kinda... the lvl i feel its at LMAO #i have to get it off my dash 😴😴😴

[hongism]

04 - s.mingi + degradation (18+)

» s.mingi x gn!reader » 18+ dni if minor » language, explicit smut, cock caging, degradation, praise, ruined orgasms, overstimulation, manual stimulation, anal fingering, use of sex toys/dildos, use of a riding crop, oral sex: m receiving (but not really), some impact play/cock slapping, use of gendered slurs (directed at mingi), dacryphilia, subspace, dominant reader, submissive mingi » wc 2.7k » link to masterlist

today you have mingi on his knees, skin pressing into the pale carpet in a way that looks more comfortable than it really is. it’s deceptively innocent, even without an ounce of clothing on his body and feet tucked under his ass like he’s trying to seem smaller than he actually is. it won’t work in his favor; such behavior never does when he’s already gone this far. 

instead, it earns him a light smack over the top of his thigh with the riding crop in your hand, and the impact draws a whimper from his full lips seconds later. a slight bit of saliva trickles out the corner of his mouth, enough to catch on his chin and stop there before falling further. the visual is intoxicating in a lot of ways, things you don’t like to admit outside the bedroom out of fear of ruining the pretty, picture-perfect innocence you seem to bear there. some part of your brain does wonder what those people would think seeing you dominate mingi in this way when they always assume him to hold that position in your relationship.

on his knees, drooling and whimpering with a solid metal cage around his big useless cock, and you over him with a smile on your lips.

it’s intoxicating.

“you enjoy this, don’t you?” you inquire. the edge to your tone feigns true curiosity but your gaze says otherwise, something borderline sadistic to the way you look down at the man on his knees. “must be so hard having such a nice big cock only to have it locked up right now.”

the riding crop pushes under his chin. you raise his head to look more clearly at his face slowly, admiring the glisten on his brow and in his eyes. something twists in your brain. 

you want to see him cry.

“i asked you a question, baby boy.” 

mingi’s thighs twitch at that nickname, a blatant cue to how much he enjoys it, and his watery gaze flits up to look you in the eye.

“there’s my pretty baby, looking all good and needy for me,” you coo. there’s a faux innocence in your words, lacing some easy praise in to heighten the blow you’re about to deliver. “what a pathetic slut.”

if he could crumple to the floor, you don’t doubt that he would do so now, but he has enough sense to stay put despite how the words send a shudder through his spine. he tucks his hands further under his legs, pressing between where his calves and thighs squeeze together and make his skin splay like the perfect canvas for you to paint on. the red streaks across his pale skin, the sheen of sweat over them, and the way his muscles tremble from the effort of keeping still — he’s a masterpiece, one of your own creation, and you don’t plan on letting anyone else see him.

for now, though, you wish for those crystalline tears to fall, you want to see spit smeared over his neck and chest, and you want to hear him gag prettily for you. 

“what do you want, baby?” you take a moment to squat down to his height, head tilting to the side as you look him in the eye. “want me to touch you?”

mingi offers his first weak nod of the night as his cheeks flush a pretty red and he ducks his chin to the side. 

“good boy.” perhaps it’s a bit too cruel, the way you lower the riding crop further and slip the tip between the small gap in his cock cage. the leather digs into his dick, teasing his slit enough to make mingi writhe under your touch. he’s still good though — still stays put and doesn’t try bringing his hands out from where they’re losing feeling between his legs. it’s going to result in his first ruined orgasm, and you count the seconds in your head before he cries out and a weak trail of cum spills through the slit of metal encasing. “must be hard having to cum like that, baby. can’t even put your big dick to good use, huh?”

“n-no,” mingi whimpers as you pull the riding crop back and hold it to his face.

“clean it for me.”

his tongue slips out like he’s putting it on display. you give him a sweet smile that’s deceptively innocent again. the first slap of the leather on his tongue is a shock to him. it’s almost enough for him to lose his position and grab for his crotch, and you’re nearly tempted to take the cage off for him so he can cum properly. he has to earn that right though. you only give him two more sharp hits to the tongue before turning away and stepping over to the edge of the bed. mingi pants behind you, almost dog-like in how hard he’s breathing.

“need a break, princess? what’s your color?”

“green…. ‘m okay, ‘m okay, p-promise,” mingi huffs out in response, lifting his gaze to you as you look back at him over your shoulder. 

“my pretty baby, you’re so good for me,” you singsong back through a tight-lipped grin. “made to be my perfect little toy… made for me, yeah?”

“y-yes.” 

you exhale a breathy laugh despite his affirmation not being funny in the slightest.

“you aren’t being so chatty tonight, love, are you sure you want me that badly?”

“i do!” mingi almost stumbles over his words in the rush he makes to affirm them, and another laugh slips free, one that comes from your chest with more force. “i do, please, i want you.”

“please?” you echo, arching a brow at the collection of toys before you. you settle on one in particular and pick it up with delicate fingers and a smirk. 

“please, please, i’ll beg, i’ve been good. i’m still in position! i’m being so good for you, y/n, i really am, right?”

“you are…” you turn back towards mingi, letting a genuine smile of adoration come over your lips. “you’re being my perfect little princess, baby. the perfect toy for me. you’re always so good, aren’t you?”

mingi nods like a man possessed, motions erratic in his rush to affirm your words. you press the head of the dildo in your hand further into your palm. 

“do you wish this were you?” the stroke you give to the shaft is long and obnoxious, emphasizing the twist of your wrist and how you squeeze the base lightly. mingi goes dumb for a moment; his gaze flits over the silicone then up to your face then back down to your hand that repeats the rhythmic motions. “can’t even use your stupid cock to please me right now, but that’s okay, right? you can get off if i fuck myself with this in front of you, no?”

the whimper that leaves mingi is borderline pathetic.

“don’t worry, my love. i won’t do that to you. you’ve been so good for me tonight… there’s no need for punishment, okay?”

“promise?” he asks, lashes growing wetter by the second. your gut twists and turns, the desire to see those tears fall over the balls of his cheeks rising up only for you to squash it a second later.

“promise, baby boy.” you step closer to him again, and rather than kneeling down to his height, you merely stop before him and lower the flesh-toned dildo to his lips. “won’t you be a good cockslut and suck for me?”

it’s a lewd mimicry of an actual blowjob — the visual of him taking the dildo that’s settled in your palm right beside your hip almost makes it look real. his lips stretch around the girth, the size of it almost akin to how his own erection would look if not for the metal keeping him locked up right now. there’s a certain haziness to the way mingi blinks up at you, the motions slower than normal like he’s thinking too hard about it or approaching a different mindset that will leave him needy and clingy for hours to come. not that you mind — taking care of him afterward is almost as good as taking care of him during, and you’d rather die than be a bad dom for him. 

you push the dildo to the back of his mouth, hitting his throat in one easy thrust, and the tears overflow. they stream over his skin with ease, and you see his shoulders begin to cave in a bit with each passing second. his hips jut in little staggered motions that betray his intentions, but you simply let him strive for a friction that will never really come. not the way he wants at least. 

he’s drooling around the cock between his lips and wetting it more and more with each thrust. you can't resist the urge to take your free hand to his chin, catching a dribble of saliva and smearing down towards his chest. you cross the planes of his flat chest with a wet path in your wake before reaching one of his budded nipples. just brushing over it with the slightest amount of pressure has him groaning out a low moan. like music to your ears, he repeats the sound when you tweak his nipple a little harder. 

“you can cum, baby boy. think your pathetic cock can squirt for me?” you pull the dildo from his mouth to let him speak, obviously waiting for an answer with the way you dangle the fake cock just out of his reach. his voice comes out gravelly and low when he manages to squeak out a response. 

“good whores can.”

“is that what you are, my love?”

“please,” he whispers, an edge of desperation to his tone, and you can’t deny him what he wants.

“yes, my baby, you’re a good whore for me. all mine.” you nudge the dildo back to his waiting mouth, putting more pressure into your push this time around. mingi takes it almost greedily like it can’t get in his throat fast enough, and he all but leans into it seconds later. you squat down to his level, at last, keeping one arm up to thrust the silicone between his plump lips that have long since swollen up from the overuse. you don’t have your key on hand — it’s over on the bed along with your other supplies — but you won’t be needing it quite yet, reaching down to grip the little bit of his shaft that isn’t trapped within the metal cage. 

mingi gags around the dildo once more, but this time you aren’t nearly as deep in his throat, so you withdraw the toy to let him choke out a few words. 

“c-can you finger me? please?” 

your mind goes blank for half a second, hand reaching up to sweep away some of the leftover tears on his cheeks before you recover and remember your place in the scene. 

“mm, keep sucking.” you push the dildo down to the floor then go to pull mingi’s hands out from under his thighs. the freedom has him flexing his probably numb fingers as best he can, but he doesn’t waste any time in sitting up on his knees and bending in half to reach the fake cock once more. you get to your feet, eyes taking in the pretty expanse of his back and ass, the red marks on his hamstrings that indicate how much pressure he was putting on his hands. even as you retrieve the lube from the bed, mingi doesn’t budge and continues to follow your gentle orders without complaint.

you announce your arrival behind him with a sharp backhand slap to one side of his ass, delighting in the way he jolts and clenches around nothing. his noises are muffled by the dildo, but still music to your ears as always. his cock dangles uselessly between his legs, and the metal encasing jingles with his sporadic movements. 

your first finger is cold when it slips into the heat of mingi’s ass, no effort put into trying to warm up the lube when you know how much mingi enjoys that first chill a little more every time. your fingers aren’t nearly as long as mingi’s so the effort that goes into searching for his sweet spot is far greater than it would be the other way around. he seems to content to wait, dick still dribbling strings of translucent cum like he never stopped cumming in the first place. you know by now he’s surely bordering the brink of overstimulation, the limit where it starts to become too much, but he keeps whining each time you threaten to pull your fingers out of him.

“one more, baby boy, then we’ll be done for the night and get you cleaned up,” you murmur, more to yourself than to him at this point because of how far gone he is. it’s endearing in a way, at least in your eyes it is, and it turns intoxicating once more with the first brush of your fingers over his prostate. 

“hngh, o-oh… y/n, ah, i’ll cum early!” his mouth pops off the dildo to spew the words, and spit pools on the wood floor with his motions. 

“the sooner you finish, the sooner we can get you in the bath, love.” you dig your fingers as deep as they can go, crooking them midway to repeat the same brush over his sweet spot. it garners you the reaction you were after — mingi cries out louder than he has so far in this session, legs going weak as he threatens to topple over. you grab for his hip with your free hand and try your best to steady his big body before he fully falls. all his cock can do at this point is give a few more weak spurts of the same translucent cum that pools on the floor between his legs. “good job, baby, look at you. you did so well for me.”

“y/n, i-i, fuck, i—”

“shh, baby, you’re okay, i’ve got you, okay?” you turn him to the side as gently as you can, trying to avoid any of the bodily fluids that are now spread over the wood, and help him lay flat against the floor on his back. you won’t make him stay there long, only enough for him to catch his breath and get some feeling back in his legs. you’ll get the key to his cage later too; you can’t risk leaving him right as he’s coming down from an orgasm even if it’s just a few feet away. so you drag yourself up his lanky body and settle over his waist with hands planted on his shoulders and a smile on your lips. “you with me still?”

“y-yeah,” he pants, eyes squeezed shut so tightly that there are wrinkles around his temples. you shift your hands up to brush over those spots, and the man under you relaxes into the touch. 

it’s a slow process, bringing him down from the intensity of the orgasm and overstimulation, but it’s comfortable as well if you ignore the sweat sticking to your bodies. 

“mm, okay, ‘m back, i’m back. fuckin’ drowsy as hell,” he murmurs some time later. the way his words slur is indication enough of his exhaustion, but you aren’t about to let him pass out on the floor like this.

“okay, big boy, up we go then. let’s take a bath and let me get everything cleaned up then you can pass out.” you move to climb off mingi and get to work, but he catches hold of your waist and tugs you back down to his face momentarily.

“love you, baby.”

you smile into his lips, pressing a chaste kiss there.

“i love you too.”

#mingi smut #ateez smut #ateez x reader #mingi x reader #mingi drabbles #mingi imagines #ateez drabble #ateez drabbles #ateez imagine #ateez imagines #mingi drabble #mingi imagine #kinktober2021 #erm hello #im early tonight #now i have to go take a quiz so <3 #enjoy in the meantime #be back in #an hour? #or so? #we'll see HAHA

[maizumis]

Hii! Another Haikyuu dad au! Can it be with the miya twins, Bokuto, Iwa, and Suna? They get into an argument with their pregnant wife so the wife tells them to leave her alone. The boys find a loophole so they talk to her baby bump about how sorry they are to their mama :)

— HAIKYUU BOYS ARGUING WITH YOU WHILE PREGNANT AND APOLOGIZING

ft. timeskip!miya atsumu, iwaizumi hajime, suna rintaro

note: female reader‼️ angst to fluff ‼️different format cos I wanted to write more 🥴 thanks anon! hope you like it 😽 I think I'm gonna do a part two cos this got longer than expected and I couldn't add all the characters! not edited, that's work for tomorrow!

# MIYA ATSUMU

atsumu came home after a rough day at practice, excited to spend some time with you and baby boy that was about to come in just a month

all happiness he had quickly erased when he saw that the home was on the same that when he went to practice, dishes without washing and clothes without fold

" ‘tsumu you're home! we missed you!" he walked past you, he didn't even give you a side look, going directly to the bathroom "‘tsumu all okay? I made your favor–" "could ya please shut up? a come home after working and entire day for ma family and the house is like this? what did ya do the whole day?"

you were stuck in your place with wide eyes and hands over your belly "I'm sorry ‘tsumu, my back hurts a lot today and—" "save it, don’ wanna hear yer excuses"

"go fuck yourself then, miya, sleep in the comfiness of the couch today and don't you dare talk to me until tomorrow" with that you were gone to the master bedroom, fighting the tears that were in your eyes

he thought nothing about it and went to the shower, thinking what was he gonna eat for dinner then go to sleep, tomorrow is a new day

-

freshly out of the shower with pajamas on, he went to the kitchen to eat something, mesmerized when he saw the little note on the oven glass

"enjoy your meal! we love you!<3"

not only that, but that you made his favorite, knowing he was gonna come home late and exhausted after practice

memories of the recent fight came to his mind, he didn't even let you talk your mind, his throat feeling heavy with the guilt that he was experiencing, maybe he should let you talk after all

contradictory to your words, he went runnint to the shared bedroom, ready to apologise for being an ass "baby, yer awake?"

"not for you" you told him trying to hide your sobs, the day was awful, your back didn't let you do anything, the meal you cooked was an hour of fighting the back pain, thinking your ‘tsunj would be happy if he found this

"okay then, good thing a have a baby I can talk to"

he knelt down in front of you, carefully placing his head on the baby bump, caressing it from time to time

"I was an ass, sorry, a bad person to yer mom today baby, a came home and told her bad things, she was hurting and a Didi care, can ya tell her sorry for me?" he felt a kick on his cheek and a smile on his face when he saw you laugh, even with the tear-stained cheeks you were beautiful

" ‘tsumu, not cool what you did today, I wasn't feeling okay and I missed you, we missed you" your voice still a little wiggly after that crying session you had with your maternity pillow

finally, first name privileges, he thought "a know, am sorry, am so sorry, ya deserve so much better angel, am sorry"

"‘s okay tsum, cuddle me as an apologize, yeah?"

he never got into bed at that speed, quickly cuddling you with hands on your tummy while giving little pecks to your neck

"ya don't have to tell me twice"

# IWAIZUMI HAJIME

before and during pregnancy you joined iwaizumi on his works out or runs from time to time, you knew he enjoyed his time doing it so, why don't join him?

today you were not feeling like it, morning sickness took over you and the bed seemed like the best place to stay all day, one day in bed wouldn't hurt, you thought

apparently it stroke a nerve on hajime "what are you doing in the bed? up! we need it go out! " '‘m sorry haji, not really feeling like it today, why don't you go and I make something when you return home?"

"what do you mean 'you don't feel like it' the only thing you do all day is laze around"

you took a deep breath before answering, knowing didn't meant what he say "well I'm sorry I'm pregnant iwaizumi, I can't help it. go on your run and we can eat something together when you return"

"fucking Clara wouldn't put this excuses on me" he murmured under his breath, hoping you didn't heard the mention of his ex partner

"repeat yourself iwaizumi hajime, I'm waiting"

"no baby— I'm sorry, I didn't mean it-"

"go out before I go out by myself iwaizumi, don't bother talk to me the rest of the day, I'm gonna make dinner and leave it on the fridge, I'm also gonna sleep in the guest room. fucking low of you iwaizumi, so fucking low"

he went out with a knot on his throat, he didn't need to bring that up— he knew you weren't feeling your best and then he still played that ex-girlfriend card. on the way back home he picked up flowers knowing you loved them, praying to anyone who was above him for your forgiveness

"I'm home"

"and I told you not to talk to me, iwaizumi"

being petty was right, the mention of his ex while carrying his first daughter because you didn't feel like going out today was bullshit, he didn't have an excuse

he looked down to the floor before closing the door and going to the living room to think about what he did, cheeks red of embarrassment because of his childish behavior

-

he waited for you to be asleep before going into the room, with the idea of carrying your to the king bed instead of this one, after all, he was the one that deserved the uncomfy room

before picking you he saw the pregnant belly, the shirt you were wearing rolled up so it was exposed to the cold air

" ‘m sorry baby, your mama doesn't deserve this, you have the right to be angry with me" tears were pricking his eyes, maybe he was thinking too ahead but would you leave him for this?

"I'm such and asshole, I hope you don't remember that lady's name" he told the fetus as if he was having an actual conversation face to face "behave for mom yeah? don't put more pressure on her than already did" with that he picked you up, without knowing you were fully awake the whole conversation

you let yourself be carried to the big bedroom, once you felt him place you on the bed, you tugged his shirt while looking at him with teary eyes "we need to talk tomorrow but please,stay hajime" you were still mad, but his company is what you were craving right now

"there's no way I'm not staying forever with you"

# SUNA RINTARO

rintaro was coming home late this past weeks but he finally had a free night! so you were excited to spend a bonding time with him and your unborn baby

finishing the little detail on the table such as the dry flowers and the candles, you hear the door being open "rinnie! you finally home! it felt like forever while waiting for you!" he gave you a sweet peck in your lips before going to his room to change his clothes

"oh~ I see you dressed fancy for the occasion! wait for me I think I have a dress that stills fits me!" "what do you mean? I'm going out with the inarizaki boys, kita is in town"

you stopped midway the hall that ended in your room, quickly walking towards your boyfriend again "what do you mean you're going out? what about what I made?"

"you made something?"

it was ridiculous to keep begging, maybe you should call it a day and watch some movies in the couch with a tube of ice cream, alone, again.

"okay then, have fun rin, don't drink to much and come home safe"

-

rin came home after a few hours out, he indeed had a good time with his old teammates but his mind was all the time one you, maybe he should have stay with you, eat some homemade food and cuddle all night while talking about nothing

he entered the house and saw you spread on the couch, huge blanket on with his highschool jersey on, long forgotten night snacks on the night table and Netflix on the tv

it wasn't only that what caught his eye but the table in the kitchen too, he walked towards it and saw it, the candles, the flower carefully placed on the middle of the table, the matching napkins and fancy plates, so that was what you were referring to earlier

guilt creeped all over his body, he didn't acknowledge your efforts to make a night for the both of you, was this negligence? he thought

going again to the couch, bending over so he would be at your height, he placed a hand on your belly before speaking

"you're allowed to be mad at me when you're born baby" he paused for a few seconds, thinking what was he gonna say next "papa is a fucking asshole— sorry, don't say that, papa is very clumsy from time to time"

"Rin?"

there you were! his hand came quickly behind your neck, pressing your forehead and noses together, lips brushing each other

"I'm sorry I'm so stupid— fuck, I really don't want to cry right now, I'm an horrible person"

you cupped his face with both your hands, eyes teary about to cry for a second time that day "you're not horrible Rin, it's just it feels lonely you know?" tears already going down your cheek, the sight made his heart ache, you were crying because of him

"I know you're out there trying to be the best for us but" your voice wiggly, you were really trying to hide the sobs you had inside "but sometimes it feels like you're not around anymore, I can't share the little moments I have because I wake up to an empty bed and go to sleep with the thought of you being out" full sobs were coming out of you at this point, days of pain finally reaching their point "and it hurts so bad not to have you around"

rintaro was crying along with you, you could feel his wet tears on your neck, where he was placing his head "and your absolutely right angel, I'm gonna be better for you– for the both of you, what about I take the day off tomorrow, yeah?" his quavering voice betraying him, even if you knew he was crying he wanted to be strong

"that sounds perfect rin... come cuddle me?"

carrying you bridal style to the bedroom, he lit your favorite candle and snuggled you under the cost sheets

"cuddle you, all day long baby"

#mai’s!works #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!! angst #haikyuu!! fluff #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x yn #haikyuu x you #haikyuu!! x yn #haikyuu!! x you #hq #hq!! #hq angst #hq!! angst #hq fluff #hq!! fluff #hq!! x reader #hq x reader #suna angst #suna fluff #suna x reader #atsumu angst #atsunu fluff #atsumu x reader #iwaizumi angst #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi x reader

[grapecaseschoices]

Representation in IF (or the lack thereof)

In recent days, the topic of race and ethnicity - as well as treatment of marginalized communities within IFs and their fandoms - has been the premier point of conversation. It has become paramount for people of color, lately, to advocate for themselves in regards to issues of white washing, stereotypes, and white people (...and sadly, other people of color) feeling too comfortable using slurs.

Nothing new there.

As I saw someone recently point out, this is something that crops up every two months. And if you’ve been on tumblr for that length of time, in more than more than one fandom, this is likely something you’ve had to deal with several times within that space of time. It’s an unfortunate byproduct of being a fan of color. (And, often, any type of minority, period.)

We don’t get to escape within the internet into fantasy the same way the “majority” gets to do so. If it isn’t toxic people in the community, it is being disappointed by content creators - either through their comments (or lack thereof) or what they put out in their work.

I can’t speak for every black person or every person of color, however, my fandom experience is one of hyper vigilance. And I’ve noticed that sort of attitude in others.  We have to cut away from certain parts of the fandom. Or cut out work we used to love because of certain outlooks or behaviors.

It is a protective attitude that I’m unapologetic about. By curating my content consumption, it’s pushed me to find, and support, artists that care enough to see people like me as people.  Someone mentioned to me that “as marginalized communities, we have a right to be choosy about our representation in media.” And I agree. We do and we should never, ever feel guilty about it. 

That being said, it can feel kind of alienating.

As I mentioned before, there’s been a continued - one I am glad for - movement in the IF/VN community in calling out bad representation (and treatment of fans).  Fans have pushed for accountability and gotten it. However, I’ve noticed - or at least, I feel - the call for change is sort of limited. There’s a hesitance in our community to ask for that same change of ‘indie’/smaller creators as we do of companies or more established writers. And, honestly, this hesitance has left me with a feeling that the IF/VN community isn’t really one for people of color, particularly black people.

Now, I’m one who tries to give credit where credit is due. The creation of ~interact-if … is probably one of the best things I have ever seen in any community (and I’ve been in fandom/written rpg since HS). I’ve also noticed an increase of writers of color feeling comfortable in writing for their culture or having characters of their culture as well as white creators holding themselves accountable. All of that is what keeps me hopeful about improvement regarding IF works but motivates me to one day do my own. That being said, there is still a lot that needs to be addressed regarding the whiteness of IF work and the depiction of characters of color.

I am going to start off by saying something that may come off as kind of harsh. If you know me, you know what I’m going to say, so you can clock out. If you don’t, take a deep breath, feel frustrated, and then let it go to move on: I don’t think uncomfortability with writing about a marginalized group or unfamiliarity with said group is an excuse. I don’t think “well it’s my work, this is what I know/this is what I want to write” is an excuse. 

IF works in the year 2021 are uncomfortably, awkwardly white (and able-bodied, cis, thin, etc). And I do not think there is ANY excuse, ANY actual reason for it to be that way.

I am sure there are several excuses coming to mind (as I said, I’ve been in RP and fanfic for years, I’ve seen them all—heck, I’ve thought them all. I still do think them at times). However, I’ve always held to the belief that every work that is put out into the universe matters. Everything has an impact.  NO work is too small, nothing is too insignificant. Every art has an effect. And if you’re writing a story, telling a tale, something from your heart to share with others you’re trying to affect your environment in some way, you’re trying to say something.

I feel a lot of us—as I said, I include myself in this too—do not consider what we’re saying to our audience when we create works that are mostly white (or when we can’t have a single character or work with numerous characters that are disabled, fat, mentally ill, trans, I can go on). 

If you’re writing a story, I don’t think you can give yourself any pats on the back for having one or two characters of color. I think we’ve moved beyond that type of ‘diversity by numbers’ … especially when the numbers are often piss poor.  I’m seeing IFs where there are three characters of color to six white ROs. Not only is that ‘ratio’ (for lack of a better word) shitty on it’s own, people don’t consider that the actual dynamic is 1:1:1:6. People of color are not a monolith. I, as a black Haitian-American woman, may have similar experiences as an indigenous woman from Canada and a persian person from Iran ���. But we are not the same. Yes, it is great to have a diversity of characters. I’m not saying you shouldn’t include people from different backgrounds in your works.

But please consider why it is never the case that there are two Japanese-Brazilians, three black people from Manchester, and a mixed-race Indigenous/Afro-Latina from Queens, and one white person. It is extremely rare to see multiple of one race or ethnicity in an IF if that race isn’t white.

I feel not only is that problem, I believe it is a conversation that needs to be had. Both as a community and as something writers discuss with themselves, as they review their work. 

And that is the tip of the iceberg. We need to have discussions on the tendency of characters of color to have light colored eyes, or the preference of East Asians (and light skinned ones at that) over any other Asian, or the ambiguously brownness of descriptors. We need to talk about white-washing in face claims that directly oppose established descriptions, or how Artbreeder being bad at black people is NOT an excuse for your black character looking similar to the one in three different other IFs (put the effort in). 

We as a community need to have several discussions or else I feel it will be another five years before we’re dragging our feet toward better representation. And that shouldn’t be the case. At all. 

#interactive fiction #interactive novel #visual novels #representation matters #racism #fandom racism #in short i think a lot of people thinks criticism of representation and racism equals judgment / concrit regarding what is there rather tha #observing and commenting on what is NOT there and HOW it is not there #does anyone sit and ask themselves 'why did i not picture a dark skinned indian man as this ro?' #'why did i feel this character needed to be white rather than black?' #'why do i continously put / see only a certain type of black character or a certain look of latin@ as a ROMANTIC option?' #asking these questions are ways to press for better rep AND to challenge our own bias #and most importantly accountability isn't just for the big players -- we need it for our friends and ourselves (myself included) or else we #as a community and as a type of art are going to fall into the same wholes that other media before us are / have (ie video games and films #and television and etc) when i feel IF (like RP and fanfiction) have a very unique position and perspective #and i think that is why it is maddening to see us fall into the same traps we condemn when there is NO reason to do so #long post #longpost #grapecase posts

[lowkeyerror]

Adapt pt 2

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 2877

Warnings: None

An: Okay the date isn't in this part, I wanted to put it in it's own part which should be out in the next few seconds

Pt1 Pt3

Masterlist

After being asked out by Natasha, you didn't think things could get any better in the next few hours. You were wrong.

When morning finally came the rest of the team came bustling down to see you. They were overjoyed to see that you were awake. It surprised you a little but you could feel the sincerity in their actions.

" Y/n, we are so sorry. We haven't been a good team. Just because we haven't been excluding you doesn't mean we've made the effort to include you. We're going to do better," there's determination seeping out of Steve's voice.

The other Avengers are looking at you with that same determination in their eyes.

" You're family Y/n," Bruce's words make you want to shed a tear. For the longest time you felt like the team didn't care about you, but you could tell that wasn’t the reality.

" I've scheduled mandatory Y/n bonding time. Yes, I said Y/n and not team. I've divided the day up, so we each have some time to get to know Y/n individually."

Natasha cut in," I actually already have plans with Y/n tonight at 7."

You could see Clint smirking at Natasha," Natasha, do you and Y/n have a date tonight, perhaps?"

You half expected Natasha to decline the allegations but instead she smiled proudly," We do"

You blushed profusely as Natasha ran her thumb over the back of your hand.

" So Natasha is automatically your favorite now and we don't have a chance," Tony complained.

You shook your head," I'd say since we don't know how the date will go, you've all got a fair shot to win me over"

" Calling it now, I'm going to be her favorite," Clint proclaimed.

" Now hold on arrow head, I'm going to be her favorite," Tony insisted.

Steve cut him off, " Getting to know you doesn't ever really make it better now does it Tony"

Thor was next," I'm the most fun of the bunch so there's really no competition"

Bruce laughed awkwardly," I am also an option"

" I think that's enough boys. How about you spend time with her first and then bicker about it?," Wanda ended the debate.

After that had been settled you left the medbay and went to your room. You changed into something comfy and relaxed for a minute. The moment was interrupted by a knock on your door, it was Tony.

" You, me, car ride around the block."

You laughed at the delivery but got up and followed him to his car. Instead of having a driver like usual, he actually got in the driver's seat.

You thought that there would be a moment of awkward silence but turns out Tony loves to talk.

" I usually introduce myself as a billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, it's kind of a given at this point. I think there's a little more to me than that though. Sadness, anger, happiness, I feel it all, I've felt it all. Getting your heart taken out really does that for a guy. For awhile it almost did feel like all my feelings were in my heart and not my head. Made me feel like so much less of a person. Thank god for Pepper though. Have you met Pepper? She saved my life, you know? Dark times and all I had Pepper with me. I guess the team too in a way. You feel more human when everyone around you has mistakes too. Well stars and stripes really didn't do anything wrong, but you get the jist"

" You talk a lot and pretty fast," you said from the passenger's seat and Tony chuckled.

" I get that a lot, actually. Tell me something about yourself?"

You took a second to come with an answer. When you got asked questions like that, you wanted to think back. It was almost a primal instinct to try to remember your past. You had to unlearn that behavior so that you wouldn't have to hurt as much.

" Well, I don't really remember much about who I was before the Avengers. So I had the opportunity to relearn myself here. I don't know if it's exactly close to how I was before, but it's the only version I know. I like saving people too. It definitely makes me feel connected to others and the team. It's one thing we all have in common. I don't know what kind of crime I used to do but I don't think anything could compare to how hero work makes me feel. I'm still figuring a lot out when it comes to myself but I know this is where I'm supposed to be"

Tony stopped the car after circling the block," Y/n if I knew what you did, I would tell you. I know how it feels to have a piece of you missing. You deserve to know. No matter what it is, you belong here with us. You are damn good at your job Y/n. You've saved so many people including us. It sounds corny, but we all want to help you find yourself. We want you to feel like you're apart of this family because you are"

You gave a curt nod, trying not to cry," I used to think you guys just didn't like me. Not that you hated me or anything but that I just didn't fit in. I don't know how you've done it but in the span of 48 hours I know that's not true anymore. I can see you all putting in a lot of effort to show me that you care and I appreciate that"

Tony smiled at you like a genuine smile. Not one of those half smirks he does. It was a little strange to see him smile but still very endearing.

" So, you and Natasha?"

You got out the car," Not that close yet, goodbye Tony"

You didn't make it one step into the compound before being whisked away by Bruce Banner.

He pulled you into his lab and started rambling," Y/n, I have been working on something. I need your help. Technically it's for you as an apology for not being a good teammate. I don't know if I could uh really call it a gift if I'm about to tell you about it. I'm trying to make a serum that will help you remember your um past. I need a scan of your brain."

You blinked at the man unsure what to make of all of his words," Bruce you don't have to-"

" No, I don't but I want to try. I'm a scientist Y/n, this is something I can do to show you that I'm sorry. I don't know if I'll be successful but I still want to try it out. So can I get a scan of your brain please"

You nodded," Okay"

Bruce hooked you up to a couple of wires and directed you to lay in a machine. While he started running the tests he started to ask questions.

" So if you don't mind me asking how far back do you remember?"

You hesitate before answering," I remember being in a cell and Fury coming to me with an ultimatum"

" Anything else?"

" Well now that you mention it after passing out, I remember that it had happened before. I don't know how or when but I knew what it meant"

You could see Bruce jotting down some notes," Interesting… When I first became the big guy I couldn't really remember what I had done. I only knew because when he eventually went away, I was always left in the middle of a wreckage. Have you ever thought that maybe you weren't in control back then?"

You pondered for a minute. Bruce madd a good point, it wasn't so far-fetched to believe that there was someone controlling you. It's a thought that would've made you sleep easier some nights.

" Maybe," you said getting up from the machine," I've never really thought about it"

Neither of you had a chance to finish the conversation before Thor barged in," Ah you Y/ln, come we must bond over our godlike abilities."

You said bye to Bruce and followed Thor to the living room. He sat on the couch and you sat next to him. He looked at you and you looked at him. This was the awkward silence you were waiting for earlier with Tony.

" So, do you drink?'

" Sometimes"

Thor smacked his lips," I also like to drink. Nothing here is quite like the ale of Asgard, but that just means I can drink more"

" Do you miss Asgard?"

He nods," All the time. I still visit from time to time, but it's the same as living there. Something's always different when I go back. Alas I love it here too, there's something about this big blue ball that compels me to stay. Earth needs me more than Asgard. How about you?"

You shrug," Don't remember home, but I miss it all the same. I can't really explain it. It's just something I feel, you know. When I think about it, I get this overwhelming warmth. It makes me think that home was good. I imagine that I loved it wherever it was"

Thor clears his throat," Not really good at these things, but bare with me. You might not remember where you've come from, but that's alright. Home is where you make it. As long as you're surrounded by people who care about you, anywhere can be home."

You smile," I guess this is home then"

The god claps a heavy hand on your shoulder," It is… You want to try lifting my hammer?"

" Of course I want to try lifting the fucking hammer"

Thor summoned the hammer and placed it on the ground. You stared at it with fierce eyes. You rubbed your hands on your jeans and cracked your neck to prepare.

Once you had a grip on the hammer you felt an energy coursing through your veins. You could feel yourself adapting. The hammer that was supposed to be only accessible to Thor felt weightless as you lifted it. You tossed it from hand to hand to the amazement of Thor.

" That's not supposed to happen"

You sat it down and smirked at the blonde man," I'll keep it between us ok?"

He nodded dumbfounded by how you picked up the hammer with ease.

" Thor, I'm going to borrow Y/n for a bit. We've got important things to discuss," Clint attempts to steal you from Thor.

" Not so fast Barton I was going to talk to Y/n," Stev appears from around the corner and stares down the shorter man.

You could sense them having a silent conversation with their eyes. Debating on who would get to talk to you first. It took a minute but by the end of it they were standing right next to each other.

" We want to talk to you," Steve put emphasis on the 'we'.

You waved back at Thor following the two men into the training area.

" Y/n, Natasha is really important to both of us," Steve starts.

" She's basically our best friend. She's not the hardass she pretends to be all the time" Clint continues.

" We don't want either of you getting hurt. We don't want you to hurt Nat but we also don't want Nat to hurt you. So I guess we're big brother-ing the both of you," Steve asserts.

You smile and nod," You guys have any tips?"

Clint tilts his head a little," She's going to take a moment to warm up on the date. Don't think that she hates you. She's just trying to figure out what to say"

Steve agrees," Oh and obviously she likes vodka but I'm telling you she likes rum even more. Straight up with no coke. So order her one"

You make a mental note of their advice," Anything else?"

" Be yourself," Clint smiled, patting your shoulder

" That's the most important part," Steve pats you on the head endearingly.

Just then Wanda walked in observing the scene in front of her," So you guys are just going to pet her ?"

Both men stopped and Wanda held her hand out for you to take. She led you to your own room and made herself comfortable searching through your closet.

" Do you know what you're wearing for your date?"

" No idea," you sat on your bed as the woman picked out something for you to wear.

Wanda turned her head to look at you," What clothes are you comfortable in? I usually see you in either a super suit or sweatpants"

" I usually throw on the same thing everyday so I don't really know," your head rested in your hand as you pondered.

" Well I think... that this would look really good on you"

She tossed an outfit at you and you hesitantly put it on. You checked yourself out in the mirror, smoothing out some of the wrinkles in the clothes.

" Do I look okay?"

Wanda clapped her hands together," You look fantastic. Sit, let me do your hair."

You sat on your bed and she sat behind you with the brush in her hand.

" Are you ready for your date?"

You hummed in response," I hope so. Steve and Clint actually gave me some good pointers. I just hope it goes alright"

" You'll be fine. Natasha really likes you and she doesn't really like a lot of things," She brushed your hair as she spoke.

" I don't know if I've been on a date before. I'm really nervous"

Wanda paused, " Can I try something on you?"

You nodded timidly. You felt her fingers touching the temples. You were immediately engulfed in darkness. When you felt yourself resurfacing you saw yourself sitting in a cell with Fury standing over you.

" There's someone blocking me from diving further into your mind. I've tried pushing past this but I don't think I can. Can you try to think further back than this. Maybe not directly before, perhaps something in your childhood"

You focused, you really did on trying to grasp onto anything. A picture, a color, a feeling, anything. That's when you started to smell something. A fruity aroma, you knew that smell. Wanda forced the memory forward trying to bring the event to life.

When you opened your eyes you were in an unfamiliar kitchen. It was old fashioned, the appliances were white, the wall paper was a light blue with all sorts of little designs, and the window pane was yellow.

The window was wide open and there was a freshly baked pie sitting there. You watched in amazement as a much younger version of what could only be yourself appeared in the middle of the kitchen. She was staring at the pie bouncing on her heels.

" Is it ready yet ma ?"

A woman walked into the kitchen. You couldn't really make out her face. She walked up to the window and grabbed the pie, sitting it on the countertop.

" It's definitely ready, lovey. You want to help me cut it?"

The younger you nodded ecstatically," Yes please"

You were quite small so the woman had to lift you onto the counter. She let you grip the knife before placing her hand on top of yours to guide you.

Together you sliced into the peach pie pulling out a nearly perfect slice," Good job Y/n, now for the taste test"

Little Y/n took that as a sign to shovel some of the pie into her mouth. It was delicious, you could taste it. There was a warmth spreading through your body.

" This is the best ever ma," the younger you had a mouth full of pie causing your mother to laugh.

" You say that everytime," she lifted you again and placed a kiss on your forehead.

" We should make another?" You insisted, causing her to chuckle.

Though you couldn't truly see her face your heart knew that she was smiling down at you," I think that sounds like a great idea"

Then it was all over. You were back in the room with Wanda. You faced the woman and without hesitation wrapped your arms around her," Thank you"

She held you," I'm glad I could help"

You couldn't help but cry," You don't understand Wanda. That was a full memory. Not a feeling, not a hunch, that was a real memory. I- words cannot describe how grateful I am"

She rubs your back," That's what family is for, Y/n. Now stand up"

Wanda straightened out your outfit, tugging, pulling, and straightening, the entire thing until she was satisfied," It's time for your date"

" But what about my memories?"

Wanda ushers you out of her room," We'll pull them out one by one if we have to. Just after you have the best date of your life. Now you even have something new and interesting to share"

You nodded and straightened your clothes one more time," Thanks Wanda"

She smiled and gave up two thumbs up and with that you left your room. You didn't make it down the hall before you got a glimpse of Natasha.

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