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#i should probably get a diagnosis huh
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having a terrible time bc the past few months i accidentally kinda maybe 90% cured my adhd...? no im not making this up im srs
i need a support group for ex adhd peeps but unfortunately. yanno. thats not a thing. or at the very least a "how to focus as a neurotypical" article or sth 😭😭😭😭
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emeraldcreeper · 10 months
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I can legitimately and without feeling like I’m faking it somehow self diagnose my autistic nature when my mom and grandma both say yeah I think you’re autistic and my mom thought for YEARS that I was possibly autistic and since I was born and grew up in the 2000s, girls aren’t diagnosed in childhood, and can’t get diagnosed in the 00s and I’d be classified as high functioning/low support needs cause I’m not nonverbal and not a boy who likes math and trains by stereotype, it’s hilariously funny that for years now I’ve been like slowly edging my way into saying/doing self diagnosis after researching like hell and taking the online assessments like I think raads and some other one like legitimate ones, figuring out I do have most of the traits from the diagnostic criteria, am shit socially and likely also have ARFID, a disorder dealing with sensory issues with food which is a autistic thing that occurs and I hate lights smells and sound most of the time even before the forever migraines I’m having now that make the existing issues 10 times worse
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reginaofdoctorwho · 1 year
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talking to a guy and he’s like “how the fuck do you have all this shit memorized?” my brother in christ i memorized a movie as a kid because i got bored during state tests
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I'm so sorry lmao
So my dumbass brain got distracted when my friend called while I was supposed to be drawing stuff for Trans Day of Visibility. It's like 11:15pm as I'm typing this and this shit ain't gettting done tonight-
I might try and finish and post tomorrow, so hopefully no one minds if it's late?
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ohtobeleah · 5 months
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Was It Over? // Jake Seresin
-> Chapter One: [The Diagnosis]
Summary: The last thing you ever expected was to be diagnosed with breast cancer. To make matters worse? You’d been separated from the love of your life for just shy of a year. How do you tell the love of your life you might be dying? It’s simple really— You don’t.
Warnings: Mentions of Cancer Diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Separation. Marriage issues. Mentions of death.
Word Count: 2.1k
Author Note: I've put so much love, passion and time into this series. I'd love to hear all your theories and concepts as each chapter is released.
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
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December 31st 
Jake Seresin tried his best to hide the wet tears that fell down his cheeks as he sat with his kids on the lounge of the home that he had tried his best to keep as tidy as he could. There was a lot of uncertainty, a lot of frustration, a lot of fear and unbelievable sadness that surrounded Jake and your three small children. The unknown was truly tragic, terrifying and treacherous, but Jake wasn’t about to let his kids see the way he so desperately wanted to cry. He didn't want his kids to know how truly broken he was. 
“What did mum get you for Christmas daddy?” Little Lenny asked cautiously, knowing the emotions were still raw for them all. He was just six years old but Lennox Seresin knew his life had changed forever. That something had been ripped from his heart never to be returned. 
Jake held the small present in the palm of his hand, the present he had yet to open. The present he wasn’t sure he wanted to. It felt like something he’d held before, the weight felt all too familiar. It haunted him the more he carried it around, held it in the palm of his hand and contemplated the inevitable. 
“I dunno buddy, you reckon I should open it?” Jake asked as he kissed his son's head. “S’not Christmas anymore.” The Naval Aviator had recently shaved his head, it had been the closest to a number one he’d ever had. It was in solidarity, union. A decision he made in the blink of an eye but one he did not regent or ever would. 
“We haven’t taken the tree down yet.” Lucy added her two cents into the conversation as she laid her head on her father’s thigh. “Mum would be upset if you didn’t open it dad.” Jake knew that much was true, you probably would be pretty bent out of shape if he never opened it. 
“Alright, I better open it then huh?” Jake shook the small perfectly wrapped box he could hold in the palm of his hand. He heard what sounded like a rock rattle inside. His heart nearly exploded inside his chest. 
Fuck….Jake knew what it was and he really didn’t want to open it. 
But before we get to that we need to go back a little. So settle in, grab your tissues and emotional support water bottle and hold on for dear life. Because this Christmas isn’t your average festive Christmas fic: No—this one’s something much more heartbreaking. 
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November: 2nd 
“I need you to take the kids for Christmas—“ It was the first thing Jake heard come through the phone as he held it up to his ear. It had been a few days since he’d last heard from you, not that you owed him daily check ins or regular updates, you owed him nothing, after all the two of you had been separated for just shy of a year now. January had been the start of his new beginning, Lieutenants Jake Hangman, soon to be divorced, couldn’t hack it as a husband, Seresin. The title was pretty long winded and riddled with self pity, but Jake wouldn’t ever let himself forget how much he’d let you down as a husband. As a father, as best friend. 
The two of you had been college lovers. The star crossed kind of lovers with Jake being the very definition of Mr Popularity and yourself being the well mannered and reserved library dweller. You’d only stumbled across each other's paths one day in the unlikely event that Jake needed to borrow an actual hard copy of a Douglas A Howard book on the Ottoman Empire. 
He ran right into you—and to this day had never stopped loving you. His Honey. 
“Are we not splitting it between my family and yours like we said?” Jake frowned as he stepped out of his truck in the car park on base. You could hear the familiar jingle of his car keys as he shut the door of that black F150 he loved so much behind himself. 
Your contact remained unchanged, it was simply Honeybee. That term of endearment that illuminated his entire phone screen never boded very well in Jake's favour when it came to his meaningless conquests. Hard Deck Badge Bunnies were a dime a dozen, but they were never you. Never the woman he longed for the most. Never the woman Jake let down more than enough times to count on two hands. 
They were never you, because you left him January seventh at approximately four thirty in the afternoon. Jake would never forget that moment, that unimaginable heartbreak of finally coming to the gut wrenching conclusion that you had a limit. Hearing your voice through the phone as he pulled into work made him remember that you were across the country with his three kids in tow. You weren’t his anymore, he’d loved and lost you and didn’t know how to fix what he’d broken. 
“I thought we were gonna—“ 
There wasn’t an easy way to explain to your ex husband how you were sitting in the doctor's office as you spoke to him looking at your last mammogram results. Aggressive Breast Cancer, Stage three A, triple positive grade three invasive doctoral carcinoma. Merry fucking Christmas. So, you interrupted him with a quick explanation, one so out of character and born out of pure panic to keep your newfound diagnosis of stage three breast cancer that needed to be treated as soon as possible before it could progress. 
“I’ve been invited on a friend's trip, we’re going—“ Jake pretends not to hear the slight pause you took in your explanation, he decided it was because you feel guilty for dumping the kids on him like this. He knows you're not a bad mum, that’s why the kids he loves so dearly and with all his heart spend more time with you in Rhode Island than they do with him in North Island. “To Banff, yeah they booked a few rooms in the Sunshine Village but it’s a no kids trip.” 
“You deserve it.” Jake doesn’t want to argue, it’s what ruined your marriage to begin with. The constant arguing back and forth over everything under the sun. But what Jake knew now that he didn’t back then was that over ninety percent of the time those arguments started because you were just begging him to love you the way you deserved. He’d never put you first a day in your marriage even though you’d selflessly followed him across the country to whatever posting, away from your family and friends, birthed his children, twins with heads just as big as his. You gave him love and support and thought he’d do the same in return. 
But the reciprocal love in the form of equality never came no matter how long you waited or gave Jake, the love of your life, your best friend, the father of your children, the benefit of the doubt. It was you who cooked and cleaned and took care of the kids. It was you who stayed home night after night wondering when Jake would be home. It was you who stayed up riddled with anxiety that his last mission would be just that. It was you who heard the rumours about your husband in every city or small town you moved to. That he was a lady killer, a smooth talking guy with a cock sure attitude. He was the prize at the end of any lucky ladies night. 
Except for you. But you never questioned your husband’s loyalty, never once asked or believed what everyone told you. That’s just who Jake was—a charismatic man with a heart of gold that was often overlooked. He was the best of the best and he’d stop at nothing to get where he wanted to go, to the very top. If Jake Seresin had to move a mountain to achieve his dream of becoming Commander of the Pacific Fleet then he was going to move that mountain. It was one of the reasons you’d fallen in love with his very closested dorky self. 
You just never expected him to drop that very mountain on top of you and bury you alive under the pressure of keeping three beautiful kids alive, working, making sure there was food on the table for breakfast, lunch and dinner. The endless hours of housework that went unnoticed or the constant stress of being the default parent while deployments passed and new assignments came around. 
Love sometimes isn’t enough, and Jake, despite the endless love you had for the man who made you a mother and a wife, wasn’t enough. He didn’t love you the way you loved him. Endlessly and without hesitation. Jake had always been your number one priority along with your kids, but you weren’t even on his list. 
Jake knew he messed up when you told him you were leaving, he begged you not to, begged you on his knees to stay, that’s he’d change for you, be a better man for you and the kids. That he would do better, be better, be the man you fell in love with. But it was too late. 
He wished he’d listened to you all the times that you had begged him to, so now? He didn’t want to argue, not with the woman he loved so dearly and missed so badly. 
“I’ll take the kids, no problem, just tell me when I need to be at the airport and I’ll meet you guys there.” 
You’d expected a fight, some sort of push back or argument to come from the other end of the phone call as you sat in your doctor's office with eyes trained heavily on your mammogram. But it never came and that made you sure that your ex husband had well and truly fallen out of love with you the way you wished you could with him. At least he cared enough before to argue, now? It was just passive stupidity. 
“Okay, will do.” You pressed your lips together in an effort to not blurt out that you had asked your doctor if you were going to die and she had told you that she couldn’t answer that. In your mind that was a yes, yes you were dying and you felt like you couldn’t tell the one man you’d ever loved that you were taking that one way ticket to the place he’d once told you he wished you’d go in one of your long winded arguments. Hell. “I’ll uh—I’ll get the kids organised and explain what’s going on and I’ll text you all the information, sound good?” 
“Sounds like a plan, Honeybee.” Jake had yet to kick that old habit. He cringed as the terms of endearment left his mouth and stilled in his tracks. “All good on my end.” His attempt to stumble awkwardly through his mistaken term of endearment didn’t go unnoticed by you in the slightest bit. Your stomach filled with butterflies at the terms that had slipped past your ex husband's lips on the other end of the line. 
You missed him, you missed what the two of you used to be before things got so complicated. You missed the gentle nature of Jake's charisma before he fell so deep into the persona he played up for his colleagues and country. The Hangman. Always leaving people hanging, including his wife. 
Jake was just and always would be simply Jake Seresin to you. Your now ex husband but still and forever the love of your life. 
“Okay, I’ll talk to you soon, bye Jake, have a good day.” You hung up before your tears could spill from your lower lash line and left out a heavy sigh. As you closed your eyes and imagined what it would be like to be held in this moment by the man who promised he’d be there for you in sickness and in health, you reminded yourself why you left. You weren’t good enough for him to love you the way you deserved. How could you expect him to love you now when he couldnt even fix a fucking faucet when you asked? 
“Okay, so what’s the next step?” Your doctor just looked at you with sympathetic eyes that told you this wasn’t going to be easy. She took a deep breath and handed you a treatment plan that was in her opinion, the best case scenario for your specific type of cancer.
“You fight for your family, Mrs Seresin.” 
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***
Tags: @blindedbythelightt @starset21@tayl0rhuynh @mamachasesmayhem @marvelogic @itsmytimetoodream @maverick-wingman @kodzukenmaaa @eternalsams @seitmai @nota-professional @jessicab1991 @hardballoonlove @senawashere @lafrone @fanficfandomlove @withahappyrefrain @dizzybee03 @maisie-rebloging-blog @goldenseresinretriever @a-reader-and-a-writer
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grandlinedreams · 6 months
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Your ankle isn't broken.
At least, Sanji hopes it isn't. He's not Chopper though, and his medical know how stops after the very basic skills he's picked up. But the swell of it worries him, as well as the bruising, a nasty shade of dusky purple.
"What's the diagnosis, doc?" Your tone is aiming for humor, but your expression is pinched with poorly concealed pain. "Amputation?"
Sanji exhales. "Hardly," he says, but he reaches to brush his fingers against your ankle. The skin is hot, and you hiss when he prods at it experimentally. "I'm not Chopper, but it's definitely twisted. Hopefully it isn't broken. Can you move it at all?"
You suck in a breath to try, and Sanji feels his stomach sink further at the way you claw at the ground, face seeming to go a shade paler. "No."
Sanji takes a moment to think, weighing the options. The two of you could wait here and hope that you can intercept one of the others, or he can leave you here and retrieve Chopper himself ㅡ but the chances of anyone coming this exact way are slim, and he doesn't like the idea of leaving you like this.
"Welp," he says, exhaling a steady stream of smoke before he returns his cigarette to his mouth. "Only one thing we can do."
You blink and open your mouth to ask, only to yelp when Sanji kneels beside you, one arm tucking beneath your legs and the other at your back before he stands up. "Sanji! Put me down!"
"Not a chance," he says, adjusting his grip on you. "We need to get back to the Sunny. I don't know when Chopper will be back, but at least you'll be safer than sitting on the ground."
He has a point and you know that, but the idea of him carrying you the entire way back to the ship makes you uneasy. Sensing your hesitation and the tension of your body, Sanji frowns. "I won't drop you, if that's what you're worried about."
You shake your head. "No, just...aren't I heavy? I feel bad."
Sanji adjusts his hold on you again, this time tucking you closer to his chest, your head against the front of his shoulder as he begins walking. "Not at all. Especially not compared to the groceries I've had to haul onto the Sunny." He glances down, giving you a softer smile than what you're used to from him. "Relax. I've got you."
You sigh. "Okay, but I owe you for this."
Sanji huffs. "You don't owe me anything," he answers, a harder edge to his tone. "We're part of the same crew, aren't we? I don't keep tally of doing things for anyone, and I know you don't." His head tilts as he amends, "Well, besides mosshead."
"You two, I swear," you sigh, but your tone is amused. You lapse into a comfortable silence, listening to the soft crunch of leaves underfoot and Sanji's soft breathing.
He's even prettier at this angle, your eyes tracing over the hard line of his jaw, the dark stubble at his chin, his lips ㅡ
You look away sharply, and it gets Sanji's attention. "Hm? Is something wrong?"
You shake your head. "No."
You're almost pouting, Sanji notes, the stubborn purse of your lips and if he lets himself fancy it, the soft hue of a blush on your cheeks. "You're cute when you're sulking."
You turn further away. "I'm not sulking."
"Yes you are."
"Am not."
"Whatever you say, dear," he sighs, relenting as the Sunny comes into view. It doesn't take long to reach it, and he looks around once you're aboard. "Huh. Looks like we're the first ones back."
You almost whine when he moves to set you down in a chair, blinking as he pulls over an empty one and lifts your injured ankle onto it, cradling it with the decorative cushion. "There. That should help til Chopper can take a proper look at it." He pauses. "Probably wouldn't hurt to ice it, too."
He moves to head for the kitchen to retrieve said ice, only to stop when you call his name. "Thank-you," you say, and this time, he knows he isn't imagining the blush on your cheeks.
He smiles, his own heart beating a little faster. "No problem. Anything for you."
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godsstrongestangel · 8 months
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ASTRO NOTES - 1
These are notes not observations because yes these are factz onlii 🗿 Take it with a pinch of salt
⚠️TW- sensitive, my cry soft babies 🥺 this is not for u honey just take my virtual hug 🫂 and take care of urself 💗
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Capricorn moons are a disgrace to Capricorn community it is because of them the "capricorn sun" is stereotyped as judgemental and close minded for being so rigid when in reality it is true for moons onli the cap suns are the sweetest and most open minded people ever infact they are observational and not judgemental which indicates a higher level of intelligence unlike the cap moons (we get it its in detriment and you got a ton loads of mommy issue but baby whos gonna heal them? 🤡forget being the joker now, past is over)
Same way libra suns are petty and pathetic esp with their manipulative as well as people pleasing behaviors they are disgrace to libra community its other libra placements that represents true beauty and not shallowness or over rationalisation
I have to break it up to you but aquarius venus does not move on that easily infact many times it fails to move on they are just good at hiding it wanna know why? Because it is ruled by saturn daddy that means it is disciplined, determined and focused AND NO THEY ARE NOT CHEATERSSSS!!! Also being ruled by uranus means they will keep on bringing new changes (cant say for good or bad whoops!! ) in the relationship because it is a visionary sign they are probably daydreaming about marriage 🥺🥺 and yall are here throwin misiformation😒💀 PLUS ITSSS A FIXED SIGN WHAT YOU EXPECT FROM A FIXED SIGN SOCIETY?? TO MOVE ON IN THE SNAP OF A FINGER LIKE THANOSSSS BRO??
Now speaking of fixed venuses (aquarius, taurus, scorpio and leo) all of these fixed venus people at least have one lover they can never move on from they might feel they have moved on then suddenly the memories resurface 🏄🏻‍♀️🏄🏻‍♀️ you thought it was over huh?🤺🤺
Whats up with SCORPIO placements having a love for dogs and having a dog pet at least once in their life (esp moon) and then scorpio suns usually hating cats? 🗿 is it because they are willful and wont be manipulated by u? I suggest u seek some psychopath diagnosis this is some serious underdeveloped energy SIS/BRO IT IS UNHEALTHY
Aries and Scorpio mars would love the idea of tearing your clothes while making out or making love 😏💗🥵
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Libra moons with air rising should actually consider polyamory
All libra moons are true romantics or should i say hopeless romantics
Cancer suns are pathological liars Its not Gemini yall need to stop giving them fake rep of lying
Leos suns talk a lot and they do not mix well with earth suns even if they try to earth sun will eventually find themselves pissed and drained bcuz of how much they speak and boast they are constantly speaking 😂 (gives headaches in worst case scenario)
Virgo sun and risings really do a lot of stuff and chores despite having phone addiction and even if they are not good in academic or dislike what they are studying they will still be seen suffering with books and notebooks
Venusians suns with leo moon are pretty miserable they are pessimistic and overthinkers it feels like they dont have touch with their emotions at all because they are constantly rationalising emotions to the point they are repulsive to deep feelers and feels almost inhumane 😬like you would not like forming deep connections with them because you will realise they lack emotional capabilities to connect with they sometimes can even make you loathe them or very annoyed its like you are dealing with someone who doesnt make sense at all as if their brain is underdeveloped or something you just dont wanna deal with them
Scorpio placements are not loyal
Sagittarius placements and doms laugh a lot 😂
All capricorn suns and virgo risings are skinny or petite
Aquarius suns do love posting on social media a lot and they do care about ur instagram 💀
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Air venus can easily stay loyal with online relationships infact they are all loyal idk where the stereotypes are stemming from
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k4katsujin · 10 months
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did you take your meds, doll? || hobie in love with a neurodivergent s/o
ayayayaya 🕺🏻🕺🏻 im in a silly mood rn so have those silly headcanons 🕺🏻
have these since his ai told me he was autistic (i js knew it) (mf said i looked autistic too) (i thought i was good at masking) (damn)
also this is not only adhd and autism related because ima explode
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he's the one who told you you should get a diagnosis
he made research for himself but actually realized what he found fit you more
he was direct about this like he straight told you
"doll? come here i have to tell you something. i think you might be autistic."
if you're not familiar with neurodivergencies he'd explain you what it means, most of the symptoms and he'd always tell you it's ok and he loves you no matter what
"if you want i can go to your autism assessment with you? don't worry it'll all be fine"
he'd probably hold your hand thinking you were scared
he'd help you remembering taking your meds !!!
"doll? i know you don't really want to but it's time to take your medicine. we can cuddle and do some coloring books after?"
if you're age regressing he would give you sweets and plushies and he'd cuddle with you
"in little space again huh? let me take care of you" and he'd probably help you shower
i don't know if age regression is a neurodivergency in itself but i just wanted the post to include it so <3
if you're borderline he'd try his best to understand why it happened (let's not forget it's an irreversible chemical imbalance in your brain often caused by trauma) and he'd always make you feel valid
"it's not your fault. i know things are hard to deal with rn but you are not alone in this"
i feel like he's a borderline too
if you have adhd he'd love when you're hyper with him, it makes him feel safe and he'd be hyper with you too
if you're depressed he'd always listen to you and help you taking care of yourself
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im sorry this is kinda short and rushed- BUT ayayayayayaya 🕺🏻🕺🏻🕺🏻🕺🏻🕺🏻
i love hobie sm help
PLS IM SO DUMB NOT ME WONDERING WHY THIS HAD 0 LIKES WHILE IT STAED IN MY DRAFTS I-
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ichigoromi · 11 months
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𝐒𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐬𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐲𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐢 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭 | 𝐋𝐞𝐭’𝐬 𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐀𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐈𝐧 𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞
It's been a long time since I've written a Sakusa piece, and I kind of got a little crazy with it.
Judging by the title, it's not your usual fluff.
Pairing: Sakusa Kiyoomi (timeskip) x fem reader! (she/her)
Genre(s): tragedy, angst
Warning(s): terminal illness, reader's death, lots of sad stuff.
Please proceed with caution.
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Sakusa Kiyoomi
“Kiyoomi, let’s break up.”
On the seventh anniversary of our relationship, I decided to break it off with the man that I once decided that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I knew he would propose to me in that fancy restaurant that would have taken months to get a reservation to go in. I even know that he got my dream ring because he hid it in the drawer of his socks compartment.
I broke it off with him because I want him to resent me.
I want him to resent me to the point that he does not want to remember me or forgets all about me.
Why?
He deserves someone better than me because I am a bad person.
After the dinner date, I successfully stopped the proposal and ditched him there and spend the night at a cheap motel. No matter how many times he called or messaged, I ignore all of it. I deleted all the photos we shared together in my phone, so that I will not regret what I am going to do for the next few months.
This was killing me on the inside but I have to do this.
On the first day of post breakup, I packed up all my stuff and send it back to my childhood home back in Okinawa. I wanted to throw all of our pictures hanging around our home, but I want to give him the honours of destroying our happy memories.
I quit my job in Osaka and left for Okinawa. On the same day, the news article of our breakup was released. I felt some weight lifted from my heart. At least he accepted it.
During my first week back, it finally hit me. I broke up with the love of my life. I cried every night to sleep. It was painful, harsh and torture to sleep by myself but it was all of a choice made by myself.
As I was not working anymore, I had more time to spend with my family and helped out with the family small yet bustling inn that was filled with tourist.
Weeks turned into months and it was time for my family to know the truth. It was the first time I saw my tough bear papa bawled like a baby that day. I felt bad but the truth was going to come out sooner or later.
Every evening, either my mother or father would bring me to the beachside for a light walk. They say it was for my own good, but I know they are just worried about me. I guess I should not let them worry more.
Instead of going out for one of my usual night walks, I asked them to give me some privacy.
I prepared three envelopes and begin writing.
Oh, it’s not some love letters. It was my will. One for my parents, another for…him and another one for our baby girl. I used to be a lawyer, so this was a piece of cake for me. Who am I kidding? It’s never easy. I’ve tried written my wills a thousand times but I could not do it.
It kind of seals the deal that I am going to die.
When I received my diagnosis, it was a nightmare in disguise. I was 18 weeks along and…I have cancer. A terminal one at that. Life sure loves me…huh. I have already started on chemo, since I have passed the danger zone but I have lost all my hair.
I hope my baby girl gets her daddy’s luscious dark curls. How do I know if it’s a girl? I just know in my gut feeling that it will be a girl.
Besides, I hope my baby girl looks like him, I don’t want to leave another piece of me behind for him.
This is torture.
Why is life so unfair? I just wanted to be a good lawyer, get married to the love of my life and have children with him. Is it so difficult for me to live a normal life?
But I am glad to see him moving on. I recently read on an article that he was spotted on a date with one of the famous actresses that my mother probably watches.
I am happy for him. Truly, I hope he lives his life for himself and not for me.
My doctors told me that I will be able to carry my baby to full term and that was all I need. I hate chemo but I needed to do it for my baby girl.
There could be a change of events cause Mama’s body is very sick, so I am going to name you Miyuu.
I am going to add in the will in case someone objects to your name.
When my friends flew into Okinawa to see me, they all broke down and bawled like babies. Do I look that terrible? Guess I don’t have the pregnancy glow that most pregnant ladies have.
And yes, I am having a baby girl. My chemo treatment has stopped as we have about eight more weeks to my delivery date.
Everyone was updating on how their life has gone and then they told me about him too.
I am glad that he is moving on well with his life.
That is all that matter, his happiness.
As long he is happy, I can leave this world happily.
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I hear the beeping of the machine and my shallow breathing in the oxygen mask that helps to breathe better. I felt my bump weakly and relaxed when I heard the strong heart beating of my baby girl.
Miyuu, darling, I’m sorry that mummy got sick before you came out to this beautiful world.
I hope you are as healthy as your father, but not the anal person like him. Be more like mummy and make more friends.
But don’t lie to your loved ones like mummy. Always be truthful.
I know you will grow up and be loved by everyone.
Mummy is going to take a rest now, my sweet darling, be safe and healthy.
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“Code blue!”
The flatline, the dreaded beep sounds, the anxiety and helpless of not being able to do anything. The doctors tried their best to stabilise the mother but it was no use. She was gone at the age of 28, and now they have to save the baby in her too.
They promised the young lady that they would save this baby of hers no matter what.
“Call the OBGYN, Paediatric surgeons and book the operation theatre. We have to deliver this baby now. I will inform the family.”
It was all too soon for the family but time was of the essence.
After losing his only daughter, now they have to pray for their granddaughter.
With shaky hands, he signed the form. The form to save his granddaughter but nothing could bring back his daughter. His precious girl that he raised for 28 years old, passed before him.
“Please…please tell me I’m not too late. No…Wait, what is going on?”
Kiyoomi lets out a shaky breath as he slowly approaches the glass window, and saw it all. Your lifeless body lying in there, while the doctors were prepping to go in for an urgent surgery. The baby bump broke him.
Your father wrapped his arms around the tall volleyball player and no words were needed.
He did not even say his last words or even spend your last moments together.
Without a care in the world, he cried in your father’s arms. He was too late, to hold you in his arms, to say I love you for the last time.
At least you did fulfil one of the promises that you make together, half of it, was to build a family with him.
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Every second was agonising as they waited outside the operation theatre. Kiyoomi refused to rest until he knows his baby girl was out safe and he just wanted to hold your hand for the last time.
All this time, you were suffering and he was oblivious to it.
“Babe, it’s so painful. Why didn’t you tell me that you were suffering? Just how much pain were you in? I’m sorry…I’m so sorry…”
His siblings who flew down with him, could only wrapped their arms around him and comfort him.
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[Two months later…]
After putting Miyuu to sleep, Kiyoomi went into your study room. He took a deep breath as he sat down in front of your table. The graduation photo that you took together was still on the table.
And the three envelopes.
He traced your handwriting on the envelope fondly and opened the content.
It was a letter.
Hi babe, can I still call you that after our breakup?
I know what I did was brutal because I want you to resent me. Resent me to the point that you hate seeing my name or remembering me. Forget me all…but I guess you couldn’t since you opened this letter. I wrote my name especially big on this envelope because I hope my name repels you but if you’re here, I’m glad.
My diagnosis was not in our plans at all and I was pregnant. I knew if I told you, you will drop everything and spend your time with me. I am going to die. I don’t want you doing that and regretting it. That’s why I planned the breakup and hiding from you.
When I saw your news of you dating again, I thought, I’m happy that he’s moving on.
But I’m not. I miss you so much. I want to hug and kiss you or get my daily cuddles. There is a lot more that I want to do with you Mimi but I don’t have the time. I hate it so much but I regret this. I love you so much, never once did I forget about our time together.
Please don’t forget about me. I really love you so much that I don’t want you to know that I die, but you were there? Weren’t you?
I’m sorry babe that you have to experience this.
Kiyoomi, take care of our baby girl, Miyuu. I gave her that name because you’re horrible with names! I love you so much.
With lots of love,
Your First and Last  Love of Your Life.
P.s – Check the second drawer for a usb drive.
He wipes his tears and looked for the usb that you have left for him. It was his usb that you ‘borrowed’ from him during your second year of university and never gave it back.
It was videos.
But there was one that you titled it as ‘WATCH THIS FIRST’.
He clicked on it and it was you before you started on your chemo treatment.
“Erm…Hi Mimi. This is a little awkward but I wanted to film this before I start my treatment…so before I turned ugly. I’m sorry for everything, from hiding this and our baby.”
Kiyoomi’s eyes became teary as he watches you wiped your tears away.
“I don’t want to die but I guess it’s inevitable? I love you so much that even words can’t express how much I love you. Since I’m dying soon, I love you more, ‘kay? Please take care of my parents after I’m gone. I have kept my recipe books at the highest shelf where I keep my secret stash of chocolate, so cook those for our daughter.
I didn’t throw out any of our memories. It’s at Mika’s house. I couldn’t do it, so go and take it back.
Our little girl here, I hope that she looks like you but you probably wish that she looks like me, right?
Babe, I wished I had a time machine and went back to the time where I took my health seriously but I guess this is fate too.
Sakusa Kiyoomi, it was an honour to be loved by you in this life. If you don’t mind, can we meet again in our next life? In our next life, please marry me.
I love you so much and I’m sorry.”
And the video ends.
“In the next life, I will make sure we meet again, fall in love and get married and do all the things that we missed in this life. Why are you always right, she does looks like you. Our baby girl, she’s like you. I love you so much, so please let me come to you in the next life.”
For the first time after the birth of his daughter, he smiled for the first time.
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This was written after the movie, More Than Blue. I got lots of inspiration from it and I hope you guys enjoyed it.
Stay safe and healthy,
With love,
Rosalie🍓
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©️ ICHIGOROMI — Please do not plagiarise my work or re-edit and repost as your own.
Reblogs are appreciated!
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soo-won · 1 year
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Rereading the beginning of the Eunyung's Home arc right now and yeah...when Eunyung's mom tells him "why don't you just apologize? Why do you bring up the school play event again after so many years?" it really connects with what Eunyung says to Haejoon in ch201, huh. That it would be so nice if he was nice like Haejoon and could accept everything and not be so hung up on things like that. Maybe if he was like Haejoon his relationship with his mother could be better?(I don't think so. but Eunyung maybe does).
But in parallel we also see how this aspect of Eunyung, being hung up on things and staying angry can also be helpful. It's because Eunyung is like that that he doesn't let Haejoon apologize to his mom when he shouldn't have to. It's because he is like that that he makes Haejoon have a medical diagnosis after his homeroom teacher hit him. It's because he is like that the bullying situation in the Marie arc could be resolved as well. As Haejoon says, it's also thanks to Eunyung that he could sort out things with his uncle and receive more allowance. This side of Eunyung that every adults around him try to make him suppress is good and healthy. It's this anger that causes change. It makes things harder for him and it causes more ruckus, sure, but Haejoon's acceptance in these moments is hurtful as well, it doesn't resolve the issue at hand, it just makes him carry all the burden. Haejoon grew up wanting to cause the less problems and worries possible to his mom (and now his uncle) and avoids confrontations with adults as a result (also a direct consequence of when he lost his mother probably), while Eunyung grew up fantasizing about his parents receiving punishments for all their abuse. The consequences were so bad to him when he tried it's the one thing he gave up on though, so it's no surprise he lashes out whenever else he can.
When you think about it it's also connected to their level of trust in adults. Haejoon relatively trusts adults. If you take the New Dorm arc, Haejoon was planning to tell other adults about the situation there, before Eunyung told him not to (pretty violently lol) because he can't trust adults to deal with it or believe them. So Eunyung uses his own way to deal with it and it works! But Haejoon trusts adults to deal with other adults and yeah. That's how it should be and go. But Eunyung presents the "but" of this. That's how it should be, but in some cases it doesn't work because adults are douchebags, and for Eunyung it's the majority of them. Haejoon grew up with a good(even if not perfect) mom getting angry for him so he knows good adults exist. He also was moved by Juwan's mom's kindness as well(even if that makes him embarassed too). Eunyung doesn't, though, so he has to rely on himself and get angry for himself, because otherwise who will?
Writing all this I'm like....yeah No Home is all about balance. Haejoon and Eunyung searching for the right amount of distance and closeness in their relationship. Searching for the balance in their distrust of adults too. Eunyung can't trust adults for very understandable reasons, but the arc with Haejoon's uncle shows us that adults are simply struggling sometimes and trying their best, even if they're clumsy. It's true Haejoon's uncle was drinking, but he's not an irredeemable piece of shit like his father either. But it was a situation where Haejoon couldn't rely on any adults either, after all his uncle is basically his only family left. And that's why Eunyung's point of view was so helpful.
Idk man I just love the hundreds of layers in this manhwa so much. Like it's not just "the best is not to be extreme <3 not too much not too little" it's "sometimes you have no choice but to be too much. Sometimes it's destructive, though. But sometimes it's the only solution. And /sometimes/ you need a bit of the two. Sometimes both solutions work equally well. Sometimes the consequences are bad and sometimes everything ends well" like yeah life really be complicated and unpredictable like that. There isn't one guide to follow and that will work no matter what, you constantly have to adapt to the situations and people around you. Something something Eunyung and his father but if I don't end this post now I never will.
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loosingmoreletters · 1 year
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Post Apocalypse AU in which WWX and LWJ try to find their families.
“After I flunked out of school, Aunt Yu sent me to one of these ‘troubled teen’ camps.”
Lan Zhan’s expression tightened, echoing the same displeasure of his fifteen-year-old self. Wei Wuxian laughed. “Don’t look like that, it was pretty great actually, focused on getting kids proper help. I figured some shit out and so did the educators. You should’ve seen Aunt Yu’s face when the educators had a whole list of praise and diagnosis when it was time for the first parent-teacher talk.”
Grinning, Wei Wuxian buried his face in a-Yuan’s chubby stomach, making the baby giggle. “That’s right, Xian-gege came with exemplary problem solving and team work skills, and a healthy dose of ADHD and untreated PTSD.”
Not that he’d wanted to hear that back then. Wei Wuxian had been incredibly homesick and angry at himself for fucking up badly enough that he was sent away, but in retrospect, the break had been needed or he might have had the belated breakdown when he was off age and with access to alcohol. Yeah, he could definitely picture himself going down that road of self-medication.
“Anyway, they had all these outdoor activities and one relict of that is a yearly camping trip. Who would’ve guessed learning how to set up a tent with Wen Chao would pay off in the apocalypse, huh?”
When he looked up again, Lan Zhan was looking at him with a thoughtful expression, like he was trying to figure something out. The last week traveling with him east hadn’t been as terrible as expected. Having a second pair of hands to help with a-Yuan was godsend, and beyond that, Wei Wuxian still didn’t do well when left to his own devises. Who knows what messes he would’ve gotten himself into if not for Lan Zhan’s steadfast presence and his disgustingly immaculate clothes. Cities in ruins and Lan Zhan’s shirt was still white. It should be an insult of some kind.
“I’m thankful for Wei Ying’s expertise,” Lan Zhan said and stirred their dinner some more. He’d probably never eaten canned food before this nightmare week from hell and Wei Ying yet had to cease finding amusement in Lan Zhan’s petty evaluation of their meals’ nutritional value.
Tomorrow, they’d hit the borders of Yunmeng. It was for the best of Wei Ying slept through the night to guide them tomorrow, but watching Lan Zhan attempt normalcy around their campfire dinner, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to stay up a little longer.
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many-but-one · 23 days
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This is a poem written by Dorian nearly couple years ago now. He never ended up posting it because he intended to post the audio with it but we never finished captioning the audio. Going through our drafts, we found it. Since we’re on a poetry sharing kick tonight, I’ll post it now. This poem should probably be updated eventually since Dori knows more now, but we will keep it as-is for now.
Written by Dori:
I want to note that this poem is HEAVILY inspired by a slam poem by Patrick Roche. He came up with the idea of moving backwards in the timeline, which I felt was just...genius. Especially in the realm of DID, where if you know at the first age you have DID, you know it will only get progressively worse. And in my case, things do get worse, but then you get to see the real things that were believed back then. I discussed this poem with several parts in our system, not only asking for their help, but also asking if it was okay for me to share.
Lastly, here are the trigger warnings. This poem is HEAVY. It is graphic, it alludes and blatantly states some very disturbing things. I am tired of being silent.
TW: Alcohol, CSA, adulthood/teen SA, intense religious imagery, blasphemy, unalive attempt, drugs/pills, medical/hospital/doctors, self harm, domestic violence, parents, violence in general, car crashes, AFAB menstruation, neglect, death of a family member, a lot of cursing, BIG mentions of grooming from the POV of the child, brief mentions of abortions.
Haha. The gods really put every single TW they could think of in my life huh. Realizing that my entire life is essentially a trigger warning is 😅 Oof.
Anyway, here is the poem. Read with caution.
24 years and counting.
24, going on 25. I wake up each morning not knowing who I am and this is normal now. I have realized that this will be my normal forever, or at least until I process the layers upon layers of trauma, hidden underneath layers and layers of amnesia that I slowly peel back like onion skins, each layer getting more and more terrifying, more and more worrisome. The deeper I dig into this hole of unknown the harder my heart beats, and I realize my heart beats like a war drum. I have always been at war, with myself, with this body of mine. Of ours. 
Mid 24, I come to terms with a diagnosis called DID. I start to learn more about the different versions of myself, where they all intersect, where it melds together and where it stands apart. I think I know everything but 24 going on 25 version of me laughs at how naive I am. Perhaps 25 year old me will laugh at 24 going on 25 me. Maybe I’ll realize the depths of the hell I crawled out of called childhood was worse than I know even now. I don’t look forward to it. 
Early 24, I got married this year, my wife married three of me, three of me love her dearly. Things feel right and good again, I feel like I am on a happy path. My brain makes about as much sense at it always has, but at least I somewhat understand the pieces of the puzzle I’ve been given. Or at least, so I thought. 
23, this year is a blur, the only thing that stands out is that I quit my job I’ve had for five years. I loved that job. I quit that job because one of my past abusers walked in with no warning, and the sirens in my head went off like there was a nuclear bomb incoming. I still tell myself he didn’t see me but I know I’m lying to myself. I quit that very day and I realized that he still has control over me to this very day, 17 years after the trauma ended.
22, Two months before I am set to graduate college with my degree I get the diagnosis that changes my life. Not that my life is any different afterwards, at least not yet, so I try to continue forward regardless. How badly I wish to return to this moment and take my own face in my hands and look myself deep in the eyes and tell the 22 year old me that they have a storm coming. I think I already know, despite not really knowing, because I find myself getting drunk after work almost every night. I hide the bottles from my fiancée. I don’t want her to think I am my father.
21, I am old enough to drink! I barely drink. Every time I drink and it tastes too much like alcohol I am reminded of my father’s breath. I...don't know why. I stick to fruity drinks that taste good so that I can stop feeling things. Maybe I really am my father’s daughter. 
20, I finally start making friends in college, which is strange. Some people talk to me and I’ve never met them before, but they act like we’ve been friends since forever. Sometimes I attend lectures and I don’t remember what they are about. Sometimes I ask questions and I can hear my voice speaking and feel my mouth moving and I don’t know what I am saying. This is normal. The competent version of me sometimes does stuff when I get overwhelmed, that’s normal. That’s always happened! Everyone does that, right?
19, I wake up on the floor of my mother’s bathroom one afternoon, I smell my own stench I have been rotting in, I peek my eyes open and see pill bottles all around me, but no pills to be seen. The burn of bile on my throat and in my mouth makes me gag. I look in the toilet and see the pills. I won’t remember this moment until I am 24. I will learn it was not me that tried to kill themselves. I will also learn it was not me that saved me.
18, I have my first of many mental hospital stays. The doctors watch me stare at the other kids in the ward, nearly catatonic. They said they’d never seen a patient that never smiled. “Most kids get out of here within a couple of days!” They assured my mother and I. Two weeks later and I am still rotting on the plastic bedsheets. I lie and tell them I’m okay but I am not okay, I just want to live a life that involves shoelaces and doesn’t have nurses yelling at me to brush my teeth. I go back to school like nothing happened and almost all of my friends are gone. They never really cared.
18, pre-mental hospital, I am dating a boy that I don’t love. I am dating him because that’s what girls do even though I am not a girl. He is my best friend and it just seemed right. I really only dated him because sometimes I felt like I really loved him, but most of the time his lips on mine and his hands on my waist felt wrong. Something in my head feels like it’s buzzing like a beehive every time I go to his apartment. It’s almost like a spidey sense, except I ignore it and when I find myself back home, I don’t remember anything that happened at his house, nor how I ended up back home. I don’t think about it too hard. 
17, My dad punched a wall again. He screamed until I cried again. I can’t do this anymore, I can’t do this anymore. I hurt myself with sharp objects because it feels like that’s what I’m supposed to do. I never feel the pain, I only ever clean up the mess. I try to make myself as ugly as possible. To me(?) it makes sense. Obviously, if I am hideous, people will leave me alone. They won’t hurt me anymore, right? ...right? 
17, suddenly an angry version of myself appears and I realize I am SICK and TIRED of mistreatment. I fight back, I fight back with teeth and claws and words that are even sharper than both of those combined. I don’t remember these times very well. I certainly don’t remember the time this angry version of me YANKED the largest knife out of the butcher block and threatened the very man who ruined my life with it. I LOVE this version of myself. She’s intensity, with veins full of gasoline, ready and waiting for someone to ignite her. She bares her teeth in a grin and laughs, she says “I dare you, set me aflame, I will burn you with me.” Thanks, Alice. 
16, I nearly crash my car while I’m zoned out. Haha! I always zone out. Sometimes I zone out so hard that I forget big chunks of time, but everyone does that! 
15, my friend shows me his self harm scars and is trying to gain sympathy but I have none to give. I wonder if maybe doing the same will help me learn to have sympathy. Thus starts an addiction to pain that lasts for nearly a decade. 
14, I don’t remember this year very well but someone does. 
13, I started my period and I was told that I’m just a late bloomer. Everyone always said I was a late bloomer since forever. I didn’t hit my growth spurt until I was 14 either, and I didn’t stop wetting the bed until I was 9. Weird, but I didn’t put that much thought into it.
12, I wrote a detailed story that I no longer have a single copy of that talks about the structure of my inner world. Traces of the DID that I can actually remember. I don’t remember most of this year because I wasn’t the one who lived it.
11, My dad is neglecting me to party with his girlfriend. The one who lives some of next year lives this year too. Too much going on for fragile little me, someone stronger has to deal with this mess. She does. 
10, My brother died this year and this is the exact moment I stopped caring about God. Everything he ever gave to me he took away. I won’t understand the heaviness of such a statement for another decade and a half. This is when my depression started and when I lost my faith in humanity. I thought I gained it back for a while but I never did. I also stopped crying. Nobody heard me anyway. Someone in my head did it for me.
9, I don’t remember this year and I don’t want to.
8, I don’t remember this year and I don’t want to.
7, I am remembering this year and I don’t want to.
7, I am remembering this year and I don’t want to. 
7, I am remembering this year and I don’t want to.
7, I am remembering this year and it is the year that I well and truly shattered, the year I learned of the depravity of men, the year I learned that I was just holes to fuck, an actress in a sick film, a faerie, a demon, a screaming little cunt, and that’s all I would ever be seen as. This is the year I learned why I liked demons more than angels, and why God was my enemy. This is the year I realized for real that I was alone in this cruel fucking world and no amount of crying or talking or begging will ever make them hear me. They smile and laugh. They smile and laugh. They smile and laugh. :) 
6, late stages, My Sunday school teacher is so nice to me! He has a fun secret that only him and I share! I love him, he takes good care of me. He makes me feel good and special inside. I think deep down…I know it’s not okay. But I can’t help it. Actually, I am really scared because I see the way he looks at me and I feel queasy. I know this is wrong but I am scared he’ll hurt me if I say no. He said that God will tell him if I tell anyone what he does, and if God knows I am bad then I will go to hell. I don’t want to go to hell!! I’ll do whatever you say! I promise. I’m a good little girl. I’m an angel! 
6, early stages, my mommy and daddy broke up. They are fighting in court for me, and I don’t really know what that means. Mommy said the church is helping dad pay for good lawyers so she probably won’t get custody of me. I don’t know what that means. Mommy says daddy is bad and evil. Daddy says mommy is bad and evil. I don’t know who is telling the truth. Or maybe they both are. Or maybe I am the bad and evil one?
5, My dad visits me every night and calls me his little angel. :) I am his sweet angel! His breath smells funny though. And his fingers hurt me a lot, and I don’t like the way he tastes. But he said since I am a good angel it’s okay, so he must be right. 
4, Daddy and mommy fight a lot, my daddy has bottles in his hands a lot. He breaks them a lot. He hits mommy a lot. I am scared so I go hide. I am a being of terror. 
3, I am a toddler but there’s a version of me that remembers that he started existing at this age. He did everything he could to protect me. Even though he didn’t really know why. Thank you, Deimos.
2,
1,
0. I am just a twinkle in my mother’s eye, she’s just a teen and she’s scared out of her mind. This baby is saving her life, though. She didn’t want to keep going but now she has to. If only she knew that 25 years from now this baby would be a shattered and broken mess of themself, because of things desperately out of their control. They were just a baby. You failed them. They all failed them. They all failed US. Too bad you were a Christian. Maybe instead we could have been aborted. Or, rather, maybe we wouldn’t have step foot in that fucking church in the first place.
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cookies-over-yonder · 8 months
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they hate my disabled demonic swag
CO-WRITTEN BY @silverlistenstothings
Being a cane user in high school, Taylor's gotten some... interesting comments, but it hasn't come up in a while, so when it does, well... It pisses him off.
Part 18 of The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Roommates
ao3
There are many things that are different about attending Teen High now that everything is over, but to Taylor's misfortune, some things remain the same.
Taylor is standing against the wall at the cafeteria waiting for Normal, Link, and Scary to meet up with him for lunch. He's always the first there, since his class ends a little earlier than theirs.
The Path of the Wind is playing in his headphones while he waits. It's calming, and reminds him of the catbus. Ah, he misses it… hopefully it's doing well.
Someone taps his shoulder, and he flinches, then slides his headphones off to see who's there.
It's not a friend, it's a teacher—no, an educational assistant. They usually help disabled kids in their classes.
"Taylor?" they ask, and their voice sounds familiar. There's a chance they worked at Taylor's elementary school before, because why else would they recognize him? Taylor's blanking on the name though, not that it really matters—why are they talking to him anyway?
"Um. In the flesh," he says, not with his usual boldness, because he still isn't sure why he's being spoken to.
"Why do you have a cane?"
Huh?
"Uh, 'cause I have chronic pain," Taylor answers, and the words are dry on his tongue. It's not the first time, but it's been a while.
"Oh, what kind of pain? Where is it?" they ask, leaning in too close, and looking at him in such an invasive way as if trying to formulate a diagnosis right then and there.
"My limbs and my back?"
It's not a question, but it comes out like one anyway because why are they asking him this —
"You know, I know someone else who…"
The rest of their words all blend together to Taylor. Something about 'oh I wonder if it's this' and 'you should try exercising more' and oh, his nails are definitely digging into his palms now, and where the fuck is the escape from this conversation—
"Ah, well, I'm sorry, you poor thing," they say, rubbing his arm, and a split-second later, when Taylor pulls away, a frown forms on their face. It's not unlike the expression he's gotten from teachers in the past, but this one makes him feel violent.
And then they walk away. And Taylor lets out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
Jesus fucking christ.
"Taylor!" Normal calls, he's with Link and Scary, and soon they're all right by him discussing whether to buy food from the caf or share Link's packed lunch like yesterday.
"Hey, you okay?" Link asks, putting a hand on his shoulder. The touch feels like whatever the opposite of icky is. Nice, probably. Calming.
"I'm good, just…" Taylor glances around. The interrogator is still there, wandering around tables. Probably not within earshot, but still. "I'll tell you later, okay?"
"Okay," Link says, moving his arm to wrap around Taylor's shoulders while they walk to find a vacant table.
Taylor's breathing is heavy with frustration, but he makes an effort to steady it lest it progress into something worse.
When Taylor gets home, Hermie isn't on the first floor. They're probably in their room?
Taylor needs to tell them about today. He didn't get a chance to relay the whole story to Link earlier and he feels he might explode, or start biting things—probably start biting things, actually—if he doesn't get the chance to complain.
Taylor runs up the stairs and knocks on the door. "Hermie!"
" Whaaat. "
Taylor opens the door. Hermie is half-sitting half-lying on their bed with their arms crossed over their chest, looking up at him with half lidded eyes.
"Thank you for being normal," Taylor says, closing the door.
"I'm Hermie," they say, closing their eyes.
"No—no, I mean—thank you for being normal about me having a cane ."
"Uh oh."
"What?"
"What happened?" Hermie asks, crossing their legs and sitting up at attention.
"Okay, I was waiting for Normal, Link, and Scary in the caf and then some random person approached me," Taylor starts, pacing back and forth beside Hermie's bed.
"Student?" Hermie asks, narrowing their eyes. They tilt their head as they continue to watch Taylor, as if weighing some options Taylor isn’t privy to.  
"No."
"Okay.”
They sound a bit disappointed, but Taylor decides not to question it, caught up as he is in his own frustration.
"It was an educational assistant that I think I recognized from elementary school? I'm not sure. I don't fucking know—just—they came up to me out of nowhere and asked me why I have a cane, and I was like 'cause I have chronic pain, but then they kept asking fucking questions!" Taylor throws his free hand in the air and sucks in a breath before continuing.
"Like—like they asked where the pain is, and what do I even say to that? 'Oh, yeah, it's fucking everywhere'!? And, oh my god, Hermie, they started trying to fucking—fucking figure out what it is. Last I checked that wasn't anyone else's fucking business? And I—I just stood there being inspected , I'm fucking— ugh! "
Taylor can feel his nails dig into his palm again, but god, his head is on fire right now.
"And you know what happened next? You know what they said? 'You poor thing.' "
Hermie scoffs, but Taylor can tell the anger isn’t directed at him. They do seem angry though, and Taylor feels a little vindicated by that reaction. Not enough to do much about his own anger, though.
"They said they're sorry . Sorry? I was just minding my own business, vibing , mind you, to my music while waiting for my friends and they think they can just randomly approach me like that? What the actual fuck!?"
“That’s fucked,” Hermie says helpfully, patting the bed beside them.
Taylor doesn’t really want to sit down, still vibrating with frustration, but it’s probably best if he does. He falls backwards onto their bed, grabbing a pillow and putting it over his face to muffle a frustrated yell. Hermie pats his leg comfortingly.
“Get that pillow off your face before you suffocate. Deep breaths, Taylor.”
There’s a brief flash of instinctual anger, don’t tell me to calm down, I’m angry and I have the right to be, but he knows Hermie is right. He throws the pillow to the side, and takes a sharp breath in—drawing the heels of his hands to dig into his shut eyes and clawing at his hair with his nails—and lets it out as another frustrated groan.
Hermie waits for him to calm down some before continuing.
“I know I don’t have to tell you that your anger is justified, so let’s just skip over that part,” Hermie starts, and their own tone is a bit tense as well, their tail tapping a frustrated rhythm against the mattress between them. “I think next time someone asks, you should tell them to fuck off. Or, I suppose, if it’s an EA that could get you in trouble, you can just tell them you need it, no explanation necessary. If they continue to press it, I think you could hardly be blamed for resorting to violence.”
Taylor brings his hands down from his face, and something about the frustration in Hermie's tone in Taylor's honour paired with the advice makes him, despite the heat of anger still coursing through him, crack a small smile. "Are you saying I should attack them?"
“I would never say that,” Hermie says, faux-offended with a hand dramatically placed over their chest. “I’m just saying, you have a weapon,” they gesture at his cane, “and if you did, you could hardly be blamed… and I’m sure the others would cover for you.”
The adrenaline rush has mostly dissipated, which means Taylor is left to feel the aches all over his body. It always worsens when he gets riled up. Attacking people being intrusive does seem like it'd be rather satisfying. "You really think I could get away with… nah, I can't do that." Taylor chuckles. "Sounds fun though. Oh, but I will definitely be telling people to fuck off," he says, stretching his arms out and flipping off the ceiling, and then he shouts: " Fuck you! "
“That’s the spirit,” Hermie says with a small, satisfied smile. “And if anyone really gives you trouble for it, I’m sure Chaparral wouldn’t miss me if I skipped a day to join you at Teen High instead. You might be above resorting to violence, but I am not.”
Taylor bites his lip, but he's grinning even harder. There's something about Hermie threatening violence for Taylor that makes him giddy.
And grateful.
He brings his arms back down—they're aching even more from being thrown up like that but whatever, it was worth it—and he rests one hand on his chest. He extends the other out toward Hermie and wiggles his fingers a little.
Hermie eyes his hand suspiciously for a moment, glancing from it to his face and back, before cautiously placing their hand in Taylor’s as if expecting a trap. They don’t seem too genuinely worried though, eyes still amused even if they’re not smiling anymore.
Taylor tightens his grip on Hermie's hand. It's warm and sweaty and reassuring. Then his eyes fall shut.
It’s quiet for a while, before Hermie lets out a long sigh and squeezes Taylor’s hand.
“Alright, come on, you don’t want to fall asleep like that,” Hermie says, tugging at his hand gently as they return their pillows to their rightful places and gesture for Taylor to lay down beside them.
Taylor does so, and he curls up against Hermie with their hands still interlocked. His head is on their chest, and Hermie is warm, and so is Taylor; they both tend to run hot, which doesn't seem like it'd be great on paper, but in actuality, it's quite comforting.
The rise and fall of Hermie’s chest is slow and even, and Taylor’s eyes quickly fall shut again. The last thing he feels before drifting off to sleep is Hermie’s tail curling protectively around him. 
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copperbadge · 2 years
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I am older than you and have two kids with ADHD, and the more you talk about it, the more I am starting to suspect Things about myself.
Crazy how that works, huh :D
There is probably a book's worth, or several thousand dollars of therapy's worth, of content about the way in which we see these things around us without seeing them touch us. It really is a strong argument for moving away from the idea of default states of being. Like, it's not as though someone ever said to you (or at least to me) "Oh you're neurotypical.” It's just we're all assumed to be that way until discovering we aren't.  
My siblings were diagnosed with learning disabilities extremely young, but that simply codified me as "the neurotypical one" in part because I had hit all the developmental milestones super early, while my brother in particular missed a lot of his and my sister had classic dyslexia plus the advantage of a family who were already accustomed to one neurodiverse child. We really spun the wheel in terms of brain chemistry, did my family. My mother was diagnosed in her forties; by then my father had passed but it became evident as we watched my brother grow up that he was exactly like Dad. 
But it still didn't occur to me that my issues were cognitive because until you deviate from the default you are the default. Even though the default, for my entire family, is not the cultural default. I didn't deviate far enough, and I was already “typical” by the time my siblings came along to indicate “not typical”.
So I, like you, just had this assumed identity, and it took someone interacting with me with the assumption that I had a diagnosis to make me consider otherwise. Which isn't a failing on the part of any one person; it is cultural, and was even more so when I was growing up in the 1980s. (Maybe that one teacher’s fault, just a little; maybe I’m being harsh on her.) If we didn't have that assumed default, someone might have looked at my family and said, a lot sooner, "Hey...should we talk about Sam?"
It is rough to be forty two years old and “no longer” (never-was) typical. Gratifying in some ways and I’m doing okay with it, but it makes you reassess not just your life but all your other labels, too. You get told a lot in youth, or at least I was, that it’s okay not to be normal because normal isn’t real, but most kids know there is an amorphous conceptual “normal” and deviation from it can have severe consequences. So you never really get told to ask yourself if you’re normal and if not, how not. Because why risk becoming an outlier? I certainly wasn’t going to. So I internalized normal as best I could, and now I’m gonna have to unpick that tapestry. Which I’m trying to do here so others like you can, too, perhaps.  
Anyway, good luck on the journey wherever it leads you! And if it leads you to "I'm okay as I am" that is as fine as if it leads you to "Hey, Adderall's a hell of a drug" as it has for me. :D
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aidanbutampersand · 5 months
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anyone else feel 'not autistic enough' cause you dont get affected as much by overstimulating noises and sometimes feel guilty that you talk in conversations and then immediately just not talk for ages again?
like i was affected by noise a lot as a kid (think train whistles, cars driving by, explosions on a TV show about trains) but like now im just 'meh' and it feels like weird that it's like as soon as i realise im autistic (and maybe adhd) that i start like doing like hand flapping when doing boring stuff or irritated, or not enjoying finding myself around when my dog is barking, but like then i see people who struggle with autism more than me like my sibling and im just like 'huh, thats not me, i cant be autistic then' even tho the logical part of my brain is like 'youve related to like 99% of the posts about the social hardships of autism and 7-year-old you would probably relate to the posts about sensory overload and you know that'
and this carries over into like diagnosis and finding community, like idk how i'll find people i relate with if im just like 'actually no i dont get terrified by that loud train horn, but 7-year-old me would, you should time travel and meet them you'd get along,' or how the doctor would be like 'uhm ackshually you dont get full blown meltdowns at all soo yaure naht autishtic'
even tho like a lot of the time, i do get visibly frustrated at small things, people talking loudly makes it hard to think, all these little things that contradict all of my inner abelist voices telling me i dont fit the autistic stereotype of 'cannot handle noises above 80db,' and even with all the evidence pointing to highly maksed autism
i
still
say
these
things
to
myself
and its driving me insane thinking about it for too long
&
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tuliptyper · 2 years
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Oddly Specific Thomas Hewitt hcs;
TW mention for canon typical violence/cannibalism but also mentions of mental illness, suicide, bullying and general poor mental health. also nasty gross nail gunk
also these are long and wordy and not proofread sorry hehe
- neurodivergent, probably ADHD but it manifests in a way that he constantly second guesses his diagnosis bc people say he doesnt 'act like it' (projection? huh? idk her)
- dry asf hands because he cleans them a lot because he doesnt like feeling dirty but doesnt have much time to wash his face/shower. he hates his nails bc he doesnt know how to get the gunk out and accidentally stabbed his nail bed tryna clean them with a tooth pick
- loves his mama but he wishes she understood him better. growing up mute and being bullied by pretty much everyone, hes grown so fragile without even knowing it. sometimes he wishes he could peer into his mothers mind and tell her how he truly feels.
- i think he has some sort of relationship with self punishment. not really sh in the typical sense but he feels he deserves to be overworked to the point of sickness, he doesnt like to rest or treat himself. he gets tense when things are peaceful for too long and he feels the need to bully himself relentlessly. its awful :(
- living in an environment where hes essentially the breadwinner, bodyguard AND punching bag with no refuge to run to is incredibly hard. if it weren't for the guilt and his dedication to his family, he..well...i think you can guess the rest. (someone go get this guy some prozac)
- if he was introduced to them, hed love fairy tales. even though he was pulled from school and had very litle encouragement to persue his hobbies aside from sewing, hes a curious man who enjoys learning. fairy tales give him insight into past culture (and they also satiate his desire for romance. sigh ❤❤) ((call him your prince, he would actually get light headed from all the butterflies))
- should he ever get a taste of freedom, be it a particularly good experience with some strangers or seeing some pretty scenery on the road, he will chase that high Forever. he craves normalcy in its most wholesome form; saying hello to coworkers, picking up groceries, maybe taking his dog out for a walk and getting take out when hes tired. Hoyt knows this somewhat and makes sure tommy doesnt persue that desire with some nasty words and manipulation. ((literally grab his hand, run away into town and dont come back. discreetly send a check to mama with a small house on her name a few blocks down and leave the other old coots to rot))
- i gotta agree with the metalhead hc, he would love stupid ass nu-metal! dad metal, if you will. 2000s era heavy rock and anything with some angry lyrics. hates headbanging though, simply bc he loses his balance more than hed like to admit and also knots are fucking annoying to comb out with his curly hair. BUT ALSO his guilty pleasure music would be really sweet piano music or film soundtracks,,,its his inner romantic
- Thomas has like...hot dad personality..HEAR ME OUT omfg he finds puns funny, twirls his keys like a DAD and DIYs everything. he makes a lot of furniture, clothes and miscellaneous trinkets in his spare time. he needs an etsy shop ASAP
- but also hes such cute goth boyfriend material omg, he'd let you play with his hair, even braid or dye a strand if youre lucky! matching outfits kill him because he loves being yours. your hot goth husband. hell, he'll wear the bedazzled 'His/Hers' t shirt you got from the flea market, at least it fits him!
- dont send him to the gym, hes either the reason membership sales skyrocket or skydive ( they either see him and think 'i want to be him' or 'ill never be him' LMAO). unintentionally, hes a menace at the gym bc hes just generally so strong from all the physical labor back at the farm house
- i think he'd go vegetarian aside from those ready to eat rotisserie chickens you get from the supermarket (listen...i smash a whole chicken with a side of rice and corn like nobody's fuckin business)
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