#the adhd may not be written completely accurate but i tried
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I Lost My Phone! (Avengers x Reader)
So due to all of the birthday posts celebrating Steve, I realized that on my school-induced Tumblr hiatus, I missed a shit-ton of birthdays between Bucky’s and Steve’s. So there’s gonna be a ton of birthday posts coming for the MCU characters that I can find birthdays for. In the meantime, enjoy this fic that’s taken me months to write and find inspiration for.
Warnings: slight Sam x Reader, my taste in music (that deserves its own warning any day), reader being called just about every nickname I could think of, swearing.
Word Count: 3950
Summary: Reader’s ADHD causes her to lose her phone a lot, when the Avengers find out she has specialized ringtones for all of them, they’re obsessed with finding out what they all are.
For an Avenger, you were actually pretty young. You were older than Peter, but still younger than Wanda and Pietro. You were close with all three of them, and you all loved to make references that confused the fuck out of everyone else. You also had ADHD, which meant lots of things. For you, it meant that something specific, like a bobby pin from 3 years ago, was fresh in your mind. Your top left desk drawer, underneath the colouring books, to be exact. But, you were always fidgeting with something; your ring, a pen, tapping your fingers, and literally anything you could get your hands on. You spaced out a lot, so you would fidget with a pen during meetings so you could actually pay attention. Also, you had this terrible habit of losing everything that wasn’t specific; your phone, wallet, keys were left everywhere around the compound.
You were sitting in the lab one day, fidgeting with a brain puzzle Tony had left on his lab bench while he was upgrading something into your suit. “Kiddo?” He asked, “Peter just texted me that he texted you hours ago and you still haven’t responded. He wants to know if you’re mad at him, and if you’re still on for that late lunch picnic.”
“Oh, would you let him know that I’m not mad at him and that I’ll get all the stuff for the picnic if he’s willing to swing us to where we’re going?” You responded.
“Sure, I can do that,” Tony replied, drafting his response to Peter. “Why haven’t you responded to him?”
You laughed. “I have no idea where my phone is, Mr. Stark. I haven’t seen it in hours, and I have no clue where I left it.”
Tony laughed too, having done the same thing many times over the years, though you did it far more often than he ever did. “I’ll just call you then, it’ll help. Unless your phone’s on vibrate?”
“No, it’s not on vibr- wait, don’t call me!” You exclaimed, but it was too late. Who’s Your Daddy by Toby Keith started playing from upstairs, and you ran up to the kitchen where you found your phone ringing on the counter.
Clint and Natasha were sitting at the counter, drinking yet another coffee. “Why is that your ringtone for Tony?” She asked.
“I, uh- it’s- I-” You stumbled over your words, turning your phone off, blushing as Tony came up the stairs behind you.
“Why is that your ringtone for me, kiddo?” He asked, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You could easily escape if you wanted to, but it was his way of letting you know that he actually wanted an answer.
“My dad was shitty, my parents sold me into HYDRA as soon as my powers manifested, and when you guys got me out.. I just kinda.. y’know.” You said, hiding your head in your hands.
Clint rubbed your arm softly, “Hey, don’t forget about that picnic with Peter.”
“Oh, shit! He’ll be here any minute! I have to pack the food!” You scrambled around the kitchen, your gravitational powers making everything around you float as you did, and you didn’t even notice Tony slip your phone into your back pocket, just so you wouldn’t forget it again.
There was a knock in the kitchen doorway, and you turned to see Peter. “Y/N/N!”
“Peter!” You ran over to wrap him in a hug.
“You didn’t have your phone, did you?”
“Had no idea where it was. Mr. Stark had to call me.” You said, nuzzling into his chest.
Peter chuckled, “So I guess they know what your ringtone is now?” You blushed and pressed yourself further into his chest, wanting to disappear. “Do they know what it is for me?” He asked. You shook your head and tried to stop him from pulling his phone out, but he called you anyways.
You grabbed his hand and started leaving with the food as the Spiderman theme song started playing in your pocket. You turned it off and called behind you. “Goodbye Mr. Barton, Ms. Romanoff, Mr. Dad!”
“What did she just say?” You heard Tony ask as the doors shut behind the both of you.
“What did I do?” You asked while Peter was swinging you to a spot you had deemed as the ‘Kids Room’. Only Peter, Wanda, Pietro, and you were allowed in, and it was just a treehouse that Tony had built in the woods that surrounded the Compound. But it was fun not letting any of the other Avengers in.
“You called Mr. Stark something you probably didn’t mean to.”
“Peter, what did I say?”
“You called him ‘Mr. Dad.’” Peter explained, you groaned, hiding your face in his neck.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next time you couldn’t find your phone was actually the next day in the gym. Tony had designed you special wireless headphones that would work up to a mile away from your actual phone. Meaning that your phone could be anywhere in the Compound, and while listening to your music, you would have no idea. You had come back last night from your outing with Peter, and got him to swing you directly up to your bedroom so you didn’t have to run into anyone else, before kissing his cheek and telling him good night. You didn’t have feelings for him, it was just something you two always did.
“Captain Rogers!” You called from your place on top of the gymnastics bars, “Have you seen my phone anywhere? I can’t remember where I left it.”
Steve shook his head in response, “I’m sorry, kiddo, I haven’t. Do you want me to call it for you?” He asked, pulling his phone out already.
“Yeah, that might be a good idea- wait.” You dropped off the bars as soon as you heard the first bar of Ice Ice Baby. “Shit!” You exclaimed, running towards the noise.
“Language!” Steve called, following you. His super-soldier hearing was sure to hear what his ringtone was.
You pulled open the cabinet with the mugs, where you had left your phone this morning after pouring your coffee, and declined the call. “Thanks, Captain.” You muttered, walking off to take your post-training shower.
“I’m starting to think she does this on purpose,” Clint said, poking his head out of the vents.
“What do you mean?” Steve asked in response.
“Just yesterday Y/N forgot where her phone was while Peter was trying to get a hold of her, and Tony had to call her phone. It was sitting on the counter. At least she has a good sense of humour. I wonder what her ringtone is for me..” He wondered thoughtfully.
“What was her ringtone for Tony?” Steve always had more questions.
“Some country song called Who’s Your Daddy. Y/N evidently sees Stark as a father figure, she even called him Mr. Dad by accident yesterday as she was leaving for her picnic with Peter.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was only a few hours later when you couldn’t find your phone yet again. “I’m starting to wonder if someone’s just moving it when I’m not paying attention.” You said, patting your pockets as you walked into the kitchen where Clint was pouring yet another cup of coffee.
“What’s wrong, kiddo?” He asked.
“I can’t find my phone, again!” You exclaimed. “It’s the second time today that it hasn’t been exactly where I thought it was!”
Clint chuckled, “Where did you think you left it this time?”
“My pocket.” You deadpanned, subtly looking behind him to see if he had hidden it from you so he could find out what his ringtone was.
“Should I call you?”
“I wouldn’t. I’ll find it in a few minutes, don’t worry about it.” It was at that moment that you heard Men in Tights from Robin Hood coming from in between the couch cushions.
You dove towards the couch, but Clint, being taller and stronger, beat you there. “Really? This is my ringtone?”
“Robin Hood’s an archer!” You defended yourself, reaching across him for your phone to turn it off.
Nat walked in at that moment, and started chuckling at the position the two of you were in. “So, sexual tension with people other than your wife, Barton?”
“Nat, he took my phone.” You whined, unable to reach it without physically climbing him.
“Clint, give Y/N her phone back. Y/N, stop getting mad that people are finding out what your ringtones for them are. You have an excellent sense of humor, and nobody has been mad about their ringtone yet.”
“You guys are keeping a list, aren’t you?” You grimaced.
Clint and Natasha both laughed, “And keeping track of who laughs at which one.” He added.
“Ouch.” You said softly, putting your phone back in your pocket and heading back into the kitchen. “What’s for dinner?”
“Nobody’s really sure yet. What do you want?” Nat replied.
“If there’s one thing I learned from my missions with HYDRA, it was how to make a mean mac n’ cheese.” You said, pulling the ingredients out of the cupboards.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When you woke up the next morning, it was to someone banging on your door. “Y/N! Training! You’re late!”
You groaned, rolling towards the noise and off the edge of your bed. “Fuck!” You exclaimed, having hit your head on the nightstand.
Bucky rushed in, “Y/N, are you alright, doll?” He helped you sit up while you were holding the back of your head.
“I-” You hissed softly, “hit my head. It hurts, Sarge.”
“Yeah, you’ve got a pretty good gash there, kid. Why weren’t you already up?”
“I don’t know where my phone is, it never went off with my alarm. I always leave it plugged in right there.” You explained, pointing to your laptop, which was currently plugged in. “Huh, charged the laptop last night instead?”
“Let me call you, doll. And then we’ll get you down to Helen in the medbay to get you all fixed up, you’re bleeding.”
“Okay, that’s a good plan.” You started to say, “Wait, my ringt-” But it was too late, Rasputin was playing from somewhere under your bed.
Bucky laid down on his stomach to get it for you. “Nice choice, kid.” He said, passing your phone back to you before he picked you up bridal style. “Let’s get you to Helen.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You were able to keep track of your phone for the next three days, but while reading on the couch you realized it had been hours since you had last seen it. “Ms. Romanoff?” You called, knowing she was sitting in the kitchen. “I haven’t seen my phone in hours, have you seen it anywhere?”
“Sorry, sweetie, I haven’t. I can call you?” She pulled her phone out, and as she did you remembered what your ringtone is for her.
“I wouldn’t do-” You started to say until you heard Black Widow by Iggy Azalea playing from the fridge. You stood up and walked over to it, opening the door. “What the fuck is my phone doing in there?”
“You must’ve traded your phone for a YOP drink.” Natasha said, ending the call from her end of the phone. “Hm, Barnes was right, you do have good taste in music.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
With Bruce you were always pretty good at keeping your phone handy, which was good, because you didn’t actually have a special ringtone for him, which you guessed made him special in his own right. You just could never think of a song that fit him well enough to be special enough for his ringtone. You spent a little extra time with Bruce to make up for it, plus you figured that whenever you moved your phone, he would make sure that he knew where it was so you wouldn’t lose it. You had a sneaking suspicion that Hulk liked you too, if the way you were able to calm him down was any indication.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was about a week after Natasha had helped you find your phone that you had lost it again. Thor and Loki were back, and while Loki often stayed on Asgard, since Thor insisted he was actually the better king, you enjoyed getting to spend time with both of them. They did both have phones now, since Tony had forced it upon them both last time they were on Earth, so you all would have a means of getting a hold of them, other than praying Heimdall would hear you. They both immediately came to you for help on understanding the Midgardian device. Similar to what Steve and Bucky did with their first phones too, actually.
You had been searching for the last 20 minutes, all over the Compound, and you couldn’t find your phone anywhere. It wasn’t anywhere in your room, your bathroom, you checked all the kitchen cupboards and the fridge, twice; and you had even checked all the furniture in the main living room where you and Loki had been quietly reading that morning after training. Nothing. Your phone was nowhere to be found. You had even poked your head into the lab while Tony and Bruce were gone to see if Peter had seen it. Still no. Your phone was gone. You were just going to have to get a new one and transfer over all of the data. You groaned, flopping down on the couch, data transfers take for-fucking-ever.
“Little angel?” Loki asked. “Is something wrong?”
“I can’t find my phone, as per usual. I’m just gonna go get a new one and do a data transfer, which takes for-fucking-ever to load and it’s annoying as shit.” You flopped your head to look over at him on the other couch, pouting.
“Why don’t you just get someone to call your phone?” He asked. “I can do it if you’d like.”
You sighed, resigned to have left it somewhere stupid yet again. “I guess you’re my last option, Mischief.” Loki pulled his phone out of his pocket and tapped on your contact, calling you. bad guy by Billie Eilish started playing from down the hall, in the training room. You ran towards the noise, picking your phone up once you got there. “Now I remember! I didn’t have pockets in my workout clothes this morning, so I left my phone on the bench. I haven’t needed it, so I didn’t think twice about not having it.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You also didn’t have a ringtone for Rhodey, but he was almost never around, and he never called you anyways. You only had his number in case of emergency, mostly for when Tony was stupidly drunk or if he was fighting with Steve and nobody could get them off of each other.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The morning after Loki had helped you find your phone, you couldn’t find it again. “Nope, I’m not gonna bother, it’ll show up in a few minutes.. or hours..” You mumbled, curling up on the couch with your book.
Three hours later, after finishing your book, going to training, taking a shower, making everyone lunch, and running some errands, you still hadn’t seen your phone anywhere. You retraced your steps throughout the day, pausing momentarily to ask Bruce if you had had it when you stopped in the lab this morning to ask Tony about an upgrade to your suit. Apparently not.
“Lady Y/N?” Thor asked, coming up behind you. “Are you feeling alright? You’ve been running back and forth across the compound looking like a- what’s the saying?”
“A chicken with my head cut off?” You asked, sighing.
“Yes, that’s it!” Thor exclaimed. “Is something wrong?”
“I can’t find my phone, Thor. That’s all. I’m sure it’ll turn up somewhere.”
Thor picked you up and put you on his shoulders. “If I called you, milady, would it help?”
“I suppose..” You told him, using your gravitational powers to float safely back to the ground. Thor pulled his phone out and you heard Thunder by Imagine Dragons playing from the lab downstairs. “But.. I didn’t have it when I was down here this morning? I guess I could’ve left it down here last night and since it’s the weekend none of my alarms would’ve gone off.”
“Oh, crap, Y/N, I am so sorry.” Bruce said, looking up from his computer. “I was cleaning up the lab this morning and I must’ve put some things on top of your phone and then Tony moved them, and-”
“Bruce, if I had really needed it, I would’ve gotten someone to call it for me sooner. My only missed call is from Thor. Trust me, it’s alright.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When you couldn’t find your phone again right after dinner, you were starting to worry about yourself. I can’t possibly misplace it this often, you thought to yourself. Somebody has to be moving it when I’m not paying attention so they can find out all my ringtones. Or maybe I really am this forgetful. Should I ask Dr. Cho about upping my meds? Should I go off my meds and see what happens? Should I-
“Y/N/N? You alright, sweetie?” Sam asked, interrupting your train of thought.
You jumped, not having heard his knock on your door. “Oh, Sammy! You scared me! I didn’t hear you come in.”
“It’s alright. You were really lost in thought, huh?”
“Yeah, I was.” You ducked your head, blushing. “Did you need something?”
“I was just coming to check on you. FRIDAY said you were in here pacing.”
“Oh, yeah, I do that when I’m stressed. Sorry.”
“It doesn’t bother me, honey. Why are you stressed?” He asked, sitting on your bed and patting the spot next to him.
“I just feel like somebody has to be taking my phone and hiding it. I can’t possibly misplace it this often, right? I was thinking that I should talk to Dr. Cho about my med dosage since I feel like I’m more disorganized on them than I am off. It’s not even just my phone, other than the bobby pin under the colouring books in my top left desk drawer, I never know where anything is anymore.”
“Okay, so we’ll find your phone and go talk to Helen about your meds. Problem solved.” Sam wrapped an arm around you and pulled out his phone to call you.
You nuzzled into his side and mumbled, “What if I don’t want you to find out what my ringtone for you is?”
He kissed the top of your head. “We’ve all loved your ringtones for us, honey. Do you trust me?”
“Of course I do.” As you said this, Sam clicked the ‘call’ button on your contact and Fly Like A Bird by Nelly Furtado started playing from the hallway. You opened the door and found your phone on the little table next to your door. “Fuck.” You said under your breath.
“Hey,” Sam said, wrapping you in a hug and resting his chin on your head. “That’s hilarious, sweetie. I love it.”
You turned around in his arms and wrapped your own around him, “You’re not mad?”
“Of course not. Now what’s this I hear about Barnes having his hands on my girl last week while I was on a mission?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After fixing your meds up with Sam and Dr. Cho, you were able to keep track of your phone for about 5 days. Sam helped. But, now, you had just finished training with Wanda and Pietro and you had no idea where your phone was. This was especially making you think you were crazy since these workout clothes have pockets. Both front and back. “Sammy! Have you seen my phone?” You asked, poking your head into his apartment.
“Sorry, sweetheart.” He called from under the bathroom sink. “Have you asked Wanda and Pietro? I know you were just training with them.”
“Nope, I came here on my way to them. I’ll see you tonight?”
“Of course you will, it’s movie night.”
“Right, yeah. I forgot. Okay, I’m gonna go find Wanda and Piet, but I’ll see you later.” You said, kissing his forehead and shutting the door behind you. The next thing you knew, you heard Red by Taylor Swift playing from somewhere above you. That was your ringtone for Wanda, she was calling you?
“Up here, sora!” You heard Wanda call from the balcony. Looking up, you saw her waving your phone and you quickly used your gravity powers to float it down to you. “Oh, Y/N/N, you did such a great job controlling your powers!” Wanda shouted, running down the stairs to wrap you in a hug.
Pietro was right behind her, and all of a sudden you were in the middle of a group hug with the twins. “Well, princessa, now that we know what your ringtone for Wanda is, we have to find out what it is for me.”
“Speed, I am speed.” came blaring through your phone speakers in the voice of Owen Wilson, who played Lightning McQueen in the movie Cars. You sighed, dropping your head onto Wanda’s shoulder as you declined Pietro’s call.
“That is the best thing in the world, princessa.” Pietro said, speeding you back to your apartment. “We’ll see you at movie night tonight?”
You nodded, leaning in the doorway. “Of course you will, Speedy. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next morning, just when you thought you were done with everybody calling you to find out their ringtone, King T’Challa and Princess Shuri showed up.
“Y/N?” Shuri asked, knocking on your door, “Are you awake yet, love?”
You flung your door open, “Yes, I am, but I was looking for my phone before I came out for breakfast.”
“Oh, let me just call you.” Shuri pulled out her phone and called you, and Get Lucky by Daft Punk and Pharrell Williams started playing from down the hallway, in the kitchen.
You walked down the hall, into the kitchen, where everybody was eating breakfast, blushing. “Couldn’t find your phone again, honey?” Sam asked. You nodded, grabbing it out from under your favourite mug.
“How did it even get out here? I had it last night in bed.”
“No you didn’t, you were in here making popcorn and brought your phone with you. You never brought it back, so I just assumed you grabbed it on our way to bed last night.”
“I must not have.” You said, finally remembering to hang up the call to make the song stop.
Natasha wrote something down on her phone, you assumed she was continuing to add to the list of ringtones she was keeping. “Hey, T’Challa, you’re the only one that we don’t know Y/N’s ringtone for, would you mind calling her for us?” Tony asked.
“Of course I can,” T’Challa said, pulling his phone out.
You quickly tapped on your phone, changing T’Challa’s ringtone while you still had a chance. Unfortunately, you weren’t fast enough because The Pink Panther started playing as your phone lit up with a call from the Wakandan King. “Crap.” You mumbled, declining the call.
“Oh, honey.” Sam said, walking over to you and wrapping you in a hug. “Your sense of humour is absolutely the light of our lives. Has anybody disliked what Y/N/N’s ringtone for them was?” Everybody shook their heads.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
All in all, losing your phone so often because of your ADHD didn’t end up being so bad. But Clint got his ass kicked when Peter found your phone left in the vents one day. Turns out, when Clint isn’t hiding your phone, you actually don’t lose it all that often.
I hope you enjoyed! Once again, I have no idea how to end fics, so you get that piece of shit as a last paragraph.
#reader insert#sam wilson x reader#sam wilson#steve rogers#bucky barnes#tony stark#natasha romanoff#clint barton#peter parker#wanda maximoff#pietro maximoff#tchalla#shuri#thor odinson#loki laufeyson#rhodey#bruce banner#reader has a questionable taste in music#at least everyone else finds it entertaining#the adhd may not be written completely accurate but i tried#also i feel like i might have adhd but haven't been diagnosed yet#so this would pretty much be a saga of me living with the avengers
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Now to high school where I was bullied by teachers and students alike 🙃
Year 7 (age 12)
I struggled with exams, so I was encouraged to do more exam prep
"needs to work on communicating ideas clearly through applying greater detail to all tasks"
Still needed to ask questions during class
"continued diligence in the preparation of written work, may help her to improve her results in the future"
"she is encouraged to organise herself to complete work and ensure it is handed in for marking on time" - get hecked Mrs Sidney nobody liked you
"Continued application towards the work, may help her to improve her knowledge of history"
Year 8 (age 13)
"to improve her grades she should concentrate on completing her assessment tasks to a higher standard, paying greater attention to detail"
"she is a conscientious and consistent worker, who demonstrates quiet determination"
"she is encouraged to persist with her efforts in class, ensuring that she also regularly revises work at home" - no cause I need the hands on aspect of science which I can't get at home cause dangerous chemicals and chemical reactions
"to improve her result, she needs to ensure she reads the requirements of assessment tasks carefully and asks questions, if unsure"
I was encouraged to follow a revision program in religious studies but I think the topic we were doing just didn't interest me all that much
"she will share responses in class discussion when asked"
I went overboard in wood tech and tried to build a water wheel that was too complicated with the limited resources we had in class. My teachers comment : "she designed a very innovative water wheel project, which unfortunately proved too be too difficult to build, with the limited resources available. She could improve her results by anticipating and overcoming potential problems, and by organising her written responses into paragraphs, so that her thoughts are more easily followed"
Year 9 (age 14)
I hated this year, I was in a class where I was bullied consistently (due to the year prior having a shit teacher for english and this year being shoved into the lowest english class) so my teachers comment for english was "she is a capable student who expresses a genuine desire to do well in this subject." - cause I was being bullied and wanted out and you did fuck all about it
By one teacher I was - "she is encouraged to more actively contribute to classroom discussions"
By another teacher I was - "she would benefit from greater participation in class discussions and seeking assistance when required
By my ag studies teacher I - "worked consistently well in prac and theory tasks, completing them quietly and efficiently at all times. She could develop her practical skills and enjoyment by having more confidence in her ability" - I loved this teacher, he was so chill
"she is encouraged to become more involved during class discussions" - maybe I didn't need to say any more miss cause I agreed with everything that had already been said, did you think about that ?? (My music teacher)
"she is encouraged to work more slowly and accurately, so her work better reflects her understanding"
"greater participation in class discussions would have been beneficial at times" - I'm pretty sure I was being bullied in PDHPE as well in this year and the next
This is also the year where my mother wanted to get me tested by the learning support group - I felt very daunted, dumb and pressured when walking into this particular room cause of the bullying, but I do what I am told. I'm just going to add a photo of the results cause fucking hell there's ADHD traits hidden here THAT WERE LITERALLY IGNORED UNTIL NOW
Fucking hell. Next
Year 10 (age 15)
"continued effort and consistent revision may help her improve her results in future"
"She could further benefit from asking questions in class when she is unsure of a topic" - and get literally bullied and harassed before you Mrs hell the fuck no
"She could have benefited from seeking additional feedback prior to the completion and submission of assessment tasks"
"she displays a keen interest in many areas of science and often adds an extra dimension to classroom discussions"
Year 11 (age 16)
"is a generally engaged student who completes most tasks with interest" - says the assistant principal about a subject that doesn't count towards my ATAR score
"she will engage in discussion, with encouragement" - cause I'm sick of everyone's bullshit
Year 11 and 12 were pretty much all about studying for the final exams. And I have no idea where my year 12 report cards are nor if we got any in that year. But again, I was tired, stressed and depressed in the final 2yrs of school so those 2 report cards wouldn't say all that much.
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I'm Autistic
Because this will likely be a lengthy, wordy post about my self-diagnosis as Autistic as well as all of my experiences regarding Autistic traits, I'm going to leave a "read more" link so that you're not scrolling for ages just to catch up on your feed.
Ah, I see you've clicked "keep reading" or "read more" or whatever this site has it labeled as, now. You don't get to be mad at how long this is or how much of a waste of time reading this may be to you because you consciously clicked on the link. Therefore, I am exempt from taking responsibilities of eating up any bit of your time, including the time you've wasted reading this disclaimer.
So... Yes. I am. And it's a self-diagnosis right now.
You're probably thinking that I saw a Tik Tok clip, checked out a page on WebMD, and decided that I'm Autistic (this is in reference to a Tik Tok I saw last night that nearly made me spit out my drink because of how painfully accurate the "what people think self-diagnosis is vs reality" clip was). That is, of course, not the case.
A few years ago (likely 2018), I don't recall what it was I read online, but it made me go, "Oh wow, that makes so much sense to me," in regards to a neurodivergent trait. However, this was then I thought I had ADHD. My husband has ADHD, was diagnosed with it as a child, and because his dad forced the doctor (this was like, in the late 90s, early 2000s I think) to put him on Adderall and Ritalin, my husband does not remember 3 years of his life because he was a drooling, zombified mess. Why did his dad do this? Because his grades were bad. Did this help with his grades? No. Did his dad take him off the meds because he didn't get the desired result? Also no. My husband wasn't even informed on what ADHD was. He was simply told he had it and to take these pills. It wasn't until he (my husband) read the label saying that it could increase the risk of heart issues that he cussed his dad out and flushed all the pills down the toilet. Up until very recently, he wasn't sure if he actually had ADHD until he saw a YouTuber who was actually diagnosed with it display the exact traits he had.
But he didn't see this YouTuber when I thought I had ADHD, so my husband couldn't exactly relate, plus I didn't want to trigger anything with him on the subject.
But the more I researched, the more I realized I could be on the spectrum. It wasn't until 2019 that I was printing out articles, trait lists, etc. to highlight and put into a folder (which is thick and nearly bursting with what I've printed out to have a hardcopy of records highlighting the traits that I have, including traits my husband and my mom see in me) that I realized "I could have Asperger's."
Of course, I no longer use that term after finding out it was named after a n*zi, and I began to embrace the term "Autistic" instead.
But the thing that triggered me into going, "Wait, so it's not ADHD that I think I have, it's Asperger's?" was, like my husband, seeing a YouTuber talk about their traits and experiences. I had identical struggles, myself. (Through this same YouTuber, I also found out I'm greysexual, too! There's a name to describe my experience with sexual attraction! Yay!)
There are a lot of VERY SPECIFIC TRAITS Autistic people experience that aren't mentioned by the YouTuber or in anything that I've printed out and highlighted that I have found through various Tik Toks that I have personally experienced that simply further solidifies the fact that I'm definitely on the spectrum. When I showed the Tik Tok I mentioned earlier (I don't remember their name) to my husband last night, he was wide-eyed because the description of how that individual self-diagnosed themselves WAS EXACTLY WHAT I DID WORD FOR WORD HOLY SHIT.
I was already convinced I am Autistic, but each time I read Twitter threads of people's experiences with their Autistic traits, each time I watch Tik Toks or certain YouTubers share their experiences, it further solidifies that yep, I'm Autistic.
What's amazing is that my husband is very supportive. I'm extremely lucky to have married him. I've been a terrible masker but he loves me anyways. He never gave me shit for my meltdowns and tried to help me out, thinking I was just horribly overly stressed. Now that he knows why I've had the few outwardly noticeable meltdowns that I've had throughout our years together, he knows how to help me more, now. And while he's figured out my traits and what issues I have, knowing that I'm on the spectrum helps him make sense of why I'm like this, and he can help me accordingly whether it's to prepare for something in advance, help me calm down, etc.
(I should also add here real quick that there's a high chance I have OCD as well, but less of the compulsive actions and more of the obsessive thoughts, but I'm not entirely sure just yet if this is the case. I'm actually hoping to see someone about this but with the pandemic, I don't know when that will be.)
Now... onto the traits and experiences.
My Traits (that stand out with neon lights)(Will copy word-for-word a trait my mom or husband see in me and it will be typed in a different color.)
Having a folder that has all of my research I've obsessively looked up, printed out, highlighted what I saw in myself with one color (yellow) while highlighting what my mom and my husband see with another color (pink). I'm also using this folder to make this list as a reference because I sometimes forget certain traits I do have are because I'm Autistic. (I'm 32 as I write this, so when so much of what you think, do, and experience that you see is normal for you turns out to be an Autistic trait, it takes a while to get used to it and thus remember that because you haven't had a label for it your whole life.)
Despite being goth/punk, I dress as comfortably as I can. Textures aren't a very big issue for me, but what feels like strangulation of my body tends to be a problem. I cannot handle having the cross seams of pants feeling like I have a chopstick slowly impaling my vulva, or I can't stand how tight some shorts are that they pinch my hip joints.
I've NEVER spent much time grooming my own hair. It's either tiring, I"m impatient and want it done NOW, or both. This is why I have a Tank Girl haircut (all buzzed except for bangs), where I can basically "wash and go." (Husband does my haircuts and dyes and he's kickass at it.)
Eccentric personality; may be reflected in appearance.
Is youthful for age, in looks, dress, behavior, and tastes.
Usually a little more expressive in the face and gesture than male counterparts.
"May not have strong sense of identity and can be very chameleon like before diagnosis." (This resonates with me in the form that I never saw myself in ANY fictional character other than Tank Girl. My husband agrees with this opinion, but he also says he also sees a lot of me in Caulifla from Dragonball Super.)
I enjoy reading and films as a retreat, often sci-fi, fantasy, children's (sometimes), can have favorites which are a refuge.
Uses control as a stress management (like routines, rules, rigid certain habits, etc.)
Usually happiest at home or in other controlled environment.
I've been seen as "sensitive" by some, and mocked for crying a lot by others.
I struggled with social aspects of college and have 2 partial degrees.
Often have trouble holding a job and finds employment very daunting.
Slow at comprehending at times due to sensory and cognitive processing issues.
DOES NOT DO WELL WITH VERBAL INSTRUCTIONS; MUST BE WRITTEN DOWN
Special interests (I'll get into these later).
Emotionally immature and emotionally sensitive.
Anxiety and fear are predominant emotions (some of which might be due to possible OCD).
I do have some sensory issues such as visual processing issues at times, certain sounds, certain smells, food I think, and issues with sunlight and my goddamn retinas.
Moody and prone to bouts of depression. Both of my parents as well as my husband have described my personality as reminding them of a cat.
Mild to severe gastro-intestinal difficulties (some of which could be due to endometriosis, btw).
I stim a little such as leg-bouncing, foot-waggling, some hand-flapping, some bouncing, the "spine-shimmy," joint-cracking, or playing with my ears.
Prone to temper or crying meltdowns, sometimes over seemingly small things due to sensory or emotional overload.
Hates injustice and hates being misunderstood, which incites anger and rage.
Prone to mutism when stressed or upset, especially after a meltdown, likely to stutter and may have a raspy voice.
Words and actions often misunderstood by others.
Perceived to be cold-natured and self-centered; unfriendly.
Very outspoken at times, may get very fired up when talking about passionate/obsessive interests.
Will shutdown in social situations once overloaded but generally better at socializing in small doses. May even give the appearance of skilled, but it is a "performance."
Doesn't go out much; will prefer to go out with partner only (aka my husband).
Will not do "girly" things like shopping.
Takes relationships seriously.
There's a bit on this chart (some of you probably already know by know what chart I'm using here) that says due to sensory issues, one would either really enjoy sex or strongly dislike it. I'm in the former camp complete with a pretty high libido.
Often prefers the company of animals.
So there are the traits that REALLY stick out like a sore thumb. These come from a site regarding female Asperger traits or however it's labeled as. I have plenty more from two other articles I printed out with lots of highlighting, but the chart actually sums a lot of the definitive shit quite nicely. At some point in this list, I could tell I went "fuck it" and copied many things word for word anyways since I'll be talking about experiences later in this post.
But it was this chart that I'd discovered that I started to realize that I really am on the spectrum, and to triple check, I asked my mom and my husband if they saw any of this in me. The traits typed in green are ones I wasn't sure of and had to ask them if they saw it. I'm not always aware of how I am, who I am at times, etc. I also didn't want to lie about it, so I had to get second and third opinions.
Despite all of this, only very few people that know me IRL know about me being Autistic. This is because I was heavily bullied growing up and since I haven't exactly left my hometown, I really don't want whoever stayed in the area as well to either have more fuel and re-enter my life that way, or try really hard to relieve their guilty conscience and demand that I forgive them or some shit. I also don't want "Autism Mommies" to come at my ass either asking that I help their kid (I'm not fond of children so that's not happening, plus ableism is what fucks a lot of Autistic people over regarding of age but they won't take that for an answer) or that because they---a neurotypical person---have a child who's Autistic, then that means they know all about it and because I'm not exactly like their child then I can't possibly be Autistic. It's just a whole mountain of shit I don't wanna get into.
This next bit will be split into 2 parts. One will be my special interests, and the other will be my experiences from my past that are prime examples of being Autistic long before anyone in the common public knew what Autism actually was.
My Special Interests (Both Forever & Temporary)
The following list will have my special interests but with indicators in parentheses as to whether they are forever-interests (as in, I never lost interest in the thing) or temporary (meaning, it was short-lived be it by weeks, months, or a few years). This will be in chronological order, meaning: the order of which these have appeared throughout my life.
Barney (temporary; helped me skip preschool and become honor roll student in kindergarten though)
Halloween (forever)
the color orange (forever)
dinosaurs (forever)
Donkey Kong Country esp. for SNES (forever)
animals (forever)
Godzilla movies (forever)
monster movies (forever)
Pokemon (temporary; I still like Pokemon, but it's not as hyperfocused as it used to be)
Digimon (temporary; same situation as with Pokemon)
Dragonball Z (forever)
Sailor Moon (on-and-off)
Ultimate Muscle (Kinnikuman Nisei) (forever)
Freddy vs Jason movie (still like, but the hyperfocus was temporary)
horror movies (forever)
Transformers (temporary)
Dark Knight movie (temporary)
Harley Quinn (temporary)
Lobo (temporary)
X-Men (forever, but only certain universes, mainly the 90s cartoon, and the character is always Hank McCoy)
neon-colored stuff (temporary; kind of some sort of semi-rave/techno phase)
books (forever; this was when I discovered it's "legal" to enjoy books if you "aren't smart"; I may explain this logic I had later in the post)
sex/sexuality/sexology (forever on the first two, temporary on the last one)
BDSM (on-and-off)
feminism (temporary in regards to doing research and educating myself; I still hold the views I've developed as a result, just not obsessively researching this topic anymore)
anarchism (forever)
ecology (forever)
Pleistocene epoch (forever)
goth and punk stuff (forever after discovering what these things are all about for real compared to when I was in high school and had no idea how to ask, who to ask, or where to look this stuff up at in rural Ohio)
Hellblazer (temporary)
Serbian heritage (on-and-off)
bats (temporary)
arachnids (forever)
teratophilia (forever; finally have a word to describe this damn kink)
gardening (current; unsure)
Russian language (current; unsure)
DIY things (forever)
Towards the end, it may not be in the proper order thanks to slowly losing my damn mind being cooped up mostly in my room on this farm since moving back here in 2014. The two that are "current;unsure" are ones I have a hyperfocus in right now, but I don't know if this will be temporary or not. I certainly hope not, especially considering how useful these things will be. And while I have gardening as one of them, I haven't properly begun yet because I get empty promises from my parents where they claim they'd help me, not to worry about it, then get irritated when I ask where the help is and they suddenly can't give me the help when I told them I needed it.
I should also note that I don't exactly have an encyclopedic knowledge in a whole lot of these interests that are forever-interests because I'm normally exhausted just trying to exist with minimal trouble from people. I'm hoping this will change. The things I know I have an almost encyclopedic knowledge in would be Dragonball Z, animals/ecology, and... a-and that's it. That's really it. That's all I've got because Dragonball Z was so profoundly different compared to other cartoons I've watched in the 90s that it was a wonderful escape, and I grew up around animals, taking care of animals, and watching nature documentaries. The stress I went through growing up has caused my memory of some of that wonderful animal knowledge to be lost and what could be re-gained may be easily forgotten again, hence why I need to narrow my focus for what I'd like to be an ecologist for. While I love paleontology, I want to help the living world's ecosystems and environments, too. I'd love to go back to school for this stuff now that I'm more informed of who I am and what I want in life (as opposed to being forced to pick a college major while still in high school while I'm just trying to survive the concept of existence).
In terms of collecting things pertaining to my interests, a common pattern you'll see me have is a very slowly growing Hank McCoy collection. This is largely because there isn't too much stuff made regarding this character. (There also isn't much stuff I can find that involves Piccolo, Cyndaquil, Donkey Kong, giant ground sloths, etc. that isn't already snatched up by other fans.)
Now, I'm going to get into the list of experiences. Some of which will talk about my special interests, but I also really want to talk about my struggles, too.
Experiences That Screamed "I'm Autistic"
In gradeschool, I was friends with someone who probably wasn't actually a friend and her mom made her hang out with me since I didn't really have any friends. She has told me several times that she didn't want to be my friend anymore with some kind of hostile catty smile, but I just.. I wasn't getting it. Because there was a smile. Why say that with a smile? After all we've been through? Then she's back to being my friend the next week. She really wanted to hang out with the popular girls (yes, there were cliques in 90s American gradeschool) and has done countless things to sabotage our friendship such as telling me Barney is a fake, Donkey Kong was a real gorilla who hung himself, etc. And I believed all this shit, too, in an attempt to still be an acceptable friend. She even told me that I couldn't be a witch because I liked toads so much (toads were the only wildlife I excitedly interacted with in my back yard on a regular basis).
I love Halloween for many reasons, but one of them (aside from my favorite color being involved) was the fact that it was acceptable to wear a mask. I love (and still do) the idea of covering my face because I feel less "naked" to the world. So this pandemic had a small plus for me in the form of mask-wearing outside of Halloween has become somewhat more acceptable.
In 5th grade, another classmate who had more obvious Autistic traits and was diagnosed with Asperger's at the time was an asshole to me. They would constantly give me shit and bully me for whatever reason. When I finally took a stand, the teachers on duty at recess called me to the bottom of the hill, forcing me to look at them WITHOUT allowing me to have my hands up to block the sunlight that hurt my eyes, and were able to manipulate me into "admitting picking on so-and-so for no reason" because I chased them around the playground where a group of girls (the same cliquey assholes the former "friend" wanted to mingle with) had to group-carry me away. They're the ones who snitched and they gave me those same hostile smiles. That's when I learned that not all smiles meant good things. I was 10.
I sometimes "lose the ability" to ask for help long before the "help" I ever got in any circumstance was just me being met with frustration by whoever is trying to "help" me or I'm met with "sorry, can't help you there. (The former being with homework or school work, the latter being with going to authorities about bullies.)
Growing up, I was never girly (or girly enough) and I've tried to, but I failed miserably. My special interests would roar through and because it was too odd or different or annoying, it gave other girls fuel for bullying me with.
Regarding the lack of being girly enough, I was at a pool party with the former "friend" mentioned earlier and she started this "game" where she and the other girls would leap into the pool saying, "I love you, Leonardo!" This was in 4th grade and in reference to the Titanic movie, which at that point, I'd never heard of, because I was too pumped for the latest Land Before Time sequel. So when I leapt into the pool, I said, "I love you, Raphael." All the girls were confused, asked who that was. I then asked, "Aren't we playing Ninja Turtles?" Because the only Leonardo I knew of was a fucking Ninja Turtle, goddamnit. Who let you brats watch that shitty romance film anyways? Boring as fuck.
Aside from the occasional weekend visits or sleepovers at the former "friend's" house, I didn't get to socialize much, so I would spend most of my days (especially in the summer) watching what was on TV or watching from our very large VHS collection. During which I would make mental notes on how certain characters acted or what they said and try to remember that to mimic them in a social setting, which would be out of place because I'd be so focused on mainly the dialogue that once it prompts me to say the thing, they don't respond how I expect them to and then I'm at a loss.
I was very ignorant of music and didn't even know the concept of independent or underground bands existed. Plus, rural Ohio is a cultural wasteland. Otherwise, I would've gotten into metal, goth, and punk way earlier in life. So I thought that bands that existed were because television said so.
Speaking of an odd logic... If it was taboo or bad to talk about, I thought it was illegal. Thus, I thought any knowledge about sex was illegal and that it was supposed to happen "naturally."
I also thought that, because I wasn't considered as smart by my peers, some teachers, and even as such in the form of an insult from my parents from time to time (despite what they claim NOW), that also meant I wasn't allowed to enjoy books, because only smart people are allowed to enjoy reading. So therefore, it would be illegal for me, a not-smart person, to enjoy reading a book. So I had to focus on the pictures because if I enjoyed reading, somehow everyone would know and then I'd get into trouble.
I also thought it was illegal to talk about periods.
I socially struggled BADLY when I got to middle school because my brain was like... 4 years behind? How the fuck do people know all these bigger words? Or complex issues? This was also when I had to start suppressing ALL urges to cry because at that age, I'm not "supposed" to cry over everything. So I still, to this day, suppress it to the point of guaranteeing inducing a headache. Because I've always caught shit for crying.
Middle school was when I met an oppressive "friend" who was obsessed with me because she had a crush on me and was rather controlling of who I could and couldn't talk to and got pissy if I got close to making a new friend. Because I was desperate for a friend that wasn't like the former "friend," I allowed this abuse into my life.
High school was me just trying to survive. By the time I got home, I was too mentally exhausted to enjoy anything short of watching TV or whatever was rented from Blockbuster.
My brain was still feeling like it was years behind, and I struggled to keep up with whatever was supposed to be something I knew about, including the concept of masturbation.
Like I said earlier, anything sex-related might've been illegal to talk about, and because masturbation was still kinda taboo, I feared I'd get in trouble, but my teenage hormones compelled me to do it a LOT. It consumed my free time almost like an escape, a form of stimming, but I was shameful of it to the point of suicidal thoughts.
The former bullet was due to being raised in a christian household. My parents didn't have such views on sex like this, but I was afraid of being in trouble for asking, took to the internet, and caught some misinfo about how immoral it was. I mourned I'd be going to hell.
Speaking of religion, I thought it was illegal to change your religious beliefs, and there was only Judiasm, Muslim, and Buddhism outside of christianity (I'm Pagan, now).
While I was excited to get away from my parents presumably for good after high school, college was a new form of hell. The sudden, dramatic change in environment and lack of ANY preparation for living like an adult on my own caused me to mentally/socially/emotionally malfunction. I had outbursts I desperately tried to suppress, I felt stupid because everybody sounded smarter than me, I didn't actually want to go to art school but wasn't smart enough for anything else and never really bothered to better my artistic skills and thus felt like I shouldn't be there anyways, I struggled to fit in better, I had no idea how to function that certain habits such as neglect of my own dishes on my desk developed because I LITERALLY COULD NOT SEE MY OWN MESSES DUE TO THE STRESS I WAS EXPERIENCING. This was 3 or 4 long YEARS of this.
Attending art classes mostly run by very demanding (and demeaning) teachers while my art skills weren't up to par added to this stress on top of me not actually wanting to be THERE in the first place, just away from my parents.
I nearly ruined a friendship with a roommate because of my struggles. I'm not even sure if she is aware of my Autism because I'm afraid to approach her about it for some reason.
Plenty of times throughout my life where I'm loud and don't even realize it.
I've info-dumped on my parents, but right now they half or completely ignore me.
I've tried making eye contact, but it's like staring in the sun not in the sense of pain, but in the sense of by natural reaction looking away. When I force myself to make eye contact, I'm spending so much focus and effort into doing that to the point where I am unable to pay attention to what the person is saying. Instead, I stare at the mouth so I make sure I hear correctly the words they're telling me.
Each time someone is mad at me and gives me the silent treatment, and I inquire what I did to piss them off, they get madder because I'm somehow supposed to immediately know when I fucking don't. Then, half the time, they continue not telling me and I have to hear it from someone else. This further confuses me as to why they don't just simply fucking tell me.
I've annoyed people to listening to the same one or few songs over and over again. A lot (currently obsessed with the Sunset Overdrive and Tank Girl movie soundtracks).
I can "smell" the heat outside on a summer day.
I can smell other people's unique scents sometimes (especially when in someone's house; also experienced this in other people's dorms).
I can't remember what grade this was, but in high school, we went to some kind of space camp facility thing, and our class was split into two groups: one group was the group who was on Mars and ready to come home, the other was on Earth and can't wait to go to Mars. I was in the former group. My job in this little fun display interactive room thing was to examine the isotopes and report... uh.. I can't remember.. Report something that was off. Everyone else was dicking around with what they're supposed to do, and I was actually doing my job, and then said something, like I was supposed to, if I found something that was off (I don't remember the specifics). When the scientist who worked at the facility praised me on "saving the crew," I caught this look from the entire class a look I can't quite describe other than they didn't seem to like the fact that I did a good thing and was being praised for it instead of any of them (or they were shocked that a "dumb girl" like me could achieve this and get praise for it, I don't know.. hard to tell). This was a science class field trip, but despite this, I didn't have an interest in space, and still didn't feel I was smart. (Come to think of it, I think this was actually an 8th grade field trip, I can't remember.)
Just discovered this today: I'm actually very easily overwhelmed that could trigger a meltdown when I wake up. I don't know for how long until that point passes, either. But this could also be explained with how I've reacted to certain alarm clocks (the ones with the bells just induce pure rage in me). Either I will be on the verge of a meltdown or I'll have a fucking headache all day. Normally, I just wanna drink my coffee and either read or practice a little on Duolingo.
I don't always have enough room for a lot of info in my head for things that I like, so I have to carefully narrow shit down. Right now, I'm trying to figure out what to do about my urge to get my hands on some monster movies while making sure nothing else I've retained info for wanes. Not sure if this is due to stress or what. But apparently I have designated compartments for certain categories in my brain. If I get into monster movies, continue to work on my knwoledge on ecology and paleontology, and gain more knowledge about arachnids, that shouldn't impede on the "language" category, so whatever I learn in Russian will remain safe.
Interest "Webs."
I have what I'd like to call an "interest web." My special interests in one thing can lead me to having an interest in another. I care about nature, and I also care about paleontology. Paleoecology is something I'd like to dip my toes into. But because this all involves nature, I have an interest in botany (though it's still intimidating so I'm sticking with local native trees) and arachnids (after conquering my fears and learning more about them). So the web stops at arachnids there (no pun intended).
Back to ecology and paleoecology...
I have a major interest in the Pleistocene because it was just before we humans started writing shit down. Hints of that era echoes within our current environment, from the pronghorn being "unnecessarily" fast (due to miracynonyx, the "American cheetah," which is now an extinct cat) to avocados not seeding like they should without human assistance as well as the yucca trees (Joshua trees) going into retreat thanks to the absence of giant ground sloths.
But the planet is warming, and we could use all the help from plants that we get, especially when it comes to making sure that permafrost stays frozen. So there's this "Pleistocene Park" project taking place in Russia, and one day, if I get into the field of paleontology, I may want to chat with those involved in that project, but one can't expect every other country to know English.
There's also FROZEN PLEISTOCENE MEGAFAUNA CARCASSES BEING FOUND IN PERMAFROST, too.
On top of all of this, Russia's northern lands will become habitable for humans if shit hits the fan and the planet's mostly fucked, so it's still nice to know the language.
See how all of these interests intertwine? (It also helps that since I am of Serbian heritage but can't find accessible resources to learn the language and I wanna know a Slavic language that Russian is kind of accessible. It also seems to be the only Slavic language "commonly" found in colleges when it comes to foreign language courses.) This is why I call them "interest webs." Not sure if other Autistic people have them, but it's something that I have.
The second one could simply involve Halloween, punk, goth, monsters, and teratophilia with Halloween being the gateway because my favorite color is orange.
Just thought this would be a fun thing to touch on real quick.
My Sensory Traits
I do experience some sensory traits, but they're not intense like some people would assume (unless I'm simply not noticing how intense they can be).
I can "smell" the summer heat, which was something I thought everybody else experienced but I'm wrong.
My retinas hurt in bright sunlight despite not looking anywhere near the sun, which I also thought everybody else experienced.
Drinks taste different or off in some way if they're not in a particular mug, glass, etc. that the drink is supposed to be in. (I have certain mugs that I enjoy my coffee in, but the other mugs? They taste off. I can't explain why. I have ONLY TWO acceptable little tumbler glasses for orange juice.)
Breakfast food does not taste like breakfast food unless it's on this one specific plate from my childhood.
Dinner can be iffy on certain plates, but the safest go-to is the knock-off blue willow plates.
Lunch is acceptable on anything, but if I'm having simply a sandwich, it must be on a small plate.
I have specific forks I'd prefer to use because of how they feel in my hand, how the food-part feels in my mouth, and how the fork itself tastes.
Gotta have cinnamon in my coffee. I just do. It's not coffee without it.
I cannot fucking handle hair snippets of any size for any reason on my body. This is why there is a rigid procedure to where my husband must buzz my hair over a paper-towel-covered sink (to avoid clogging the drain) while wearing a particular tanktop Harley Quinn night shirt, and then I must shower immediately afterwards. During the haircut, my skin itches like mad like I'm being poked by the hairs directly even in places where hair snippets have never, ever gone.
I'm overly sensitive to the cold to the point of pain, especially in my fingers and toes.
Also cannot brush teeth with cold water because it's so painful (this was LONG before I had dental issues and persists to this day). Even my tongue hurts from it.
I'm picky as fuck with candy. Trick-or-treating was sometimes difficult because all I cared about was either orange-flavored stuff, or chocolate. Only specific chocolates, too (Krackle, Mr. Goodbar, Crunch, Butterfinger, Reese's, that was it.) Skittles were okay, but a lot of the baggies I got had a LOT the red ones and the red ones suck. Can't stand the other candies. (But my tastes have changed since then, and I opt for European chocolate from Aldi's as they are far superior, especially Moser Roth's 70% dark chocolate and Choceur's coffee and cream chocolate.)
Speaking of candy, the Whopper's Robin's Eggs tasted better than regular Whoppers and I will never be able to explain why.
Despite loving orange flavored stuff, I have trust issues when I see an unlabeled orange candy because there's the dangerous chance it could be fucking peach flavored. *gag* (I like real peaches, but the artificial flavored ones suck balls.) Due to my dental situation, I cannot enjoy very much in a way of candy, and the only artificial orange flavoring I CAN enjoy is through Vitamin D gummies... And even then, EVEN THEN I have to worry about the fucking peach flavors if I have to go with a different brand because we can't get our hands on a bottle from Simple Truth.
Artificial cherry flavoring is death.
The ONLY flavored medicine that was acceptable to me was orange (of course) and those dissolving strips that were grape-flavored that they don't fucking make anymore because fuck me that's why. Everything else was peer-pressured to do shots kiddie edition.
The different colored coatings on M&M's taste different from one another and I cannot explain why. It's very subtle, hardly noticeable, BUT I CAN TELL.
Peanutbutter is fucking amazing.
The smell of peanutbutter is fucking not.
There are these frozen meals my husband gets for days he doesn't have energy to cook and one of them (all from the same brand) smells like fucking hell.
My husband's Nissan Cup Noodle ramen overpowers my incense despite what other household members say.
I love incense, especially dragonsblood, "coffee time," pumpkin spice, raven, and rain.
All of the autumn scents or scents associated with autumn are orgasmic to me.
The smell of artificial cherry is death.
I would love to have perfume or body spray of Play-Doh.
I can compare smells of some places to others, such as the library branch I frequent smells like my gradeschool, as do SOME of their books' pages, and when my husband and I walked through this hall-like tunnel-like storefront in downtown Pittsburgh, I said it smelled like my grandma's basement, and he thought the same, so we're in aggreeance that all grandma's basements smell the same. Except for my Baba and Deda's. Their basement smelled like they actually still enjoy life and had their shit together.
Speaking of gradeschool smells, my gradeschool had two directions of classrooms, one led towards the gym, but the hall off to the side was carpeted, had some nice colors, and held 2 kindergarten classes and 2 first grade classes. That section of the building had its distinctive smells. The other direction led to the office, the cafeteria, and the hall with the 2 classes of grades 2 through 5 plus the preschool and the art/music class was. The smell was different in all classes EXCEPT for the music/art class, and I never went to preschool so I wouldn't know what that smells like.
ALL PRINCIPLE OFFICES SMELL THE SAME. HOW.
I could smell when my husband accidentally put in cinnamon when he thought he grabbed paprika in a dish that I liked. He was terrified of telling me. That was a happy accident and it became a permanent ingredient. He was mortified and shocked that I could smell his whoopsie in my dinner he made me.
I can also smell the cinnamon they use in Little Caeser's pizza crust. Yes. They use cinnamon. But I was the only one to notice.
Honey is like peanutbutter: it tastes amazing. But holy shit fuck that smell.
Gas stations smell like death, sadness, and questioning life's choices.
No two people's car interiors smell alike.
I can smell when it will rain soon, especially if it's about to storm.
I'm the one who noticed that hairy white oldfield asters smell like cake batter.
Dominant yellow filling my entire vision can be sometimes painful.
I used to be able to "hear" the color yellow in my head so much I thought yellow actually made a noise. It was a particular shade of yellow, and it made this Playskool toy-like clicking bell ringing noise, but really obnoxiously, almost painfully. I don't know how to describe the shade other than "cloudy pastel lemon?" It looked like the fucking lemon-flavored medicine I had to take as a kid.
My parents tried mixing in this cherry flavored death medicine in with my orange soda thinking I wouldn't know the difference but I did, so I dumped it down the drain and opened a new can because that can of Big K orange was fucking ruined.
Orange is wonderful to my eyes. But it's a hard color for me to find when it comes to getting things in a particular color. My back-up colors are red, green, and purple.
The sunlight hurts my retinas, even when I'm not looking at the sky at all, but the pain intensity increases the further I look up on a sunny summer day. This has been like this since childhood. Prescriptive sunglasses shouldn't be fucking expensive and should be covered by healthcare insurance.
I have to try really FUCKING hard not to stare at someone's muscles in person because ugh... Good thing I rarely see anybody who's well-built. (No really, this isn't even really a sexual thing, I'm so fucking fascinated and once I realize "oh, so that particular muscle looks like that from that angle", I get a glimmer of hope that I MIGHT be able to draw something humanoid since I suck at drawing people.)
Orange trees as so pleasing to the eye, and these are much more socially acceptable to stare at, lest I'm in person and the property owner might think I'm plotting to steal some (luckily I've never been anywhere near a place that grows orange trees).
Neon lights are amazing and I want them to come the fuck back. I swear, stores were so much more enjoyable of an environment when they were common. Such lights improve my mood in a way I cannot describe. I'm no longer in a hurry to get home if I am in the presence of neon lights.
Sunny days during winter are painful because the sunlight reflects off the snow. I'm painfully blinded if I look outside or go anywhere.
I cannot handle the sight of someone having boogers/snot hanging from their nose, not the sight of someone vomiting, nor the sight of an syringe needle piercing flesh.
I cannot handle the sound of alarm clock bells. I have woken up in a rage and been in a bad mood I try so hard to suppress for a good portion of the day. If I hear an alarm clock bell now these days, I wanna take it and chuck it across the room regardless the time of day or if I'm already awake. It's not so bad if I hear it from a video. In person? That's starting a war with me.
Children crying or screaming (especially babies) are almost painful to me and triggers my fight-or-flight response.
The reason why I was the loudest mellophone player in marching band was to drown out hearing the fucking trumpets. And I did; I was louder than the trumpets. (I quit marching band my sophomore year but for different reasons.)
Much of the music from the 80s that gave it that sound that definitely said it's from the 80s is very pleasing to my ears.
I love punk music for its messages, lyrics, and energy, but goth always puts me into a headspace where I feel like I'm at home; I'm at peace and want to cuddle the monster under my bed.
However, some punk songs can hit deep or strong and live rent-free in my head, such as Anti-Flag's "Racist," Bikini Kill's "Rebel Girl," and Skarpretter's "Nazi Scum."
One particular artist's voice I cannot get over because his is the first voice of any kind that makes me wanna fan myself is Peter Steele of Type O Negative. My favorite song, however, is "All Hallow's Eve" because his voice, the subject, and the lyrical content.
I'm able to hear something off in the oscillating fan my husband likes to use before he notices it.
I'm the one who can hear coyotes at night (doesn't help my mom wants to blast westerns to drown out the world and I'm back here in my room away from that shit though).
I can hear the branches scraping against the house, gently making creepy noises before I realize what the fuck it is, BUT NOBODY ELSE HEARS IT.
I can recognize the call of a robin because we had so many at the house I grew up in, and nobody else in this family fucking noticed.
I tend to notice the sound of the rain over all the house noise first.
I don't like tight clothing, which is why I prefer bralettes because my tits hurt.
If I could, I'd go without the bra because the band can sometimes suddenly feel tighter than it actually is, but because I have large nipples, I kinda need that bra for a bit of protection.
Shorts can be tight around the crotch, hip joins, and lower belly region, and that's a big no-no for me.
I'd prefer baggy pants, honestly.
Can't have tight footwear. No.
The seam at the top of socks or tights hurt my pinky toes if the whole sock/tights shift that way.
I already covered the hair snippet thing so since this is the sense of touch, another body hair thing is I kinda don't wanna shave my pits anymore because they are extremely itchy when they grow back. HAVE to shave my crotch because if I don't it gets horribly itchy, and my thick, fast-growing hair weaves into underwear, gets caught in pads, etc.
Ah yes. Pads. I hate them, but they're far more acceptable than a tampon or a cup because I have vaginismus.
Certain fabric textures are itchy as hell. There's a black shirt I have whose collar and cuffs are gorgeous but I have to wear something underneath to avoid feeling itchy.
Winter is hell for me here in the midwest, as I am very susceptible to the cold to the point of pain, especially in my fingers and toes. I become very slow, too. I feel like I can't get warm enough most of the time.
Air conditioned places in the summer feel almost similar, so I don't always wear shorts if I'm expected to go into, say, a Walmart with my husband to pick up everything. I'll shiver.
(We're gonna get into TMI territory here.) Can't masturbate by hand unless I've got a nitrile glove on because my brain only focuses on what my fingers are touching more than what my cunt feels.
Can't have any sex with my husband without anything brighter than low-light because things can be visually distracting in the room, or lights can suddenly feel way too bright to me. (Halloween string lights or those LED rope lights with adjustable brightness features and colors are excellent for this situation.)
In Conclusion
This is all that I've figured out so far. None of this hit me at once as a realization when I figured out that I'm Autistic. This took a while to realize it, and the realizations were mostly at random times through examples of other people experiencing it on the internet or through me going, "Huh, is that an Autistic trait?"
There may be even more that I'm currently unaware of or have forgotten to type here.
I apologize for how extremely lengthy this was. This took all day to type because of having to get up and do other things that needed to be done. One of the reasons why I really wanted to type this is because it's much easier to organize this on a computer, and I am absolutely shit at organizing files on my computer.
Unfortunately, while my husband is wonderful in supporting me, my parents aren't exactly all that great at it. Especially my dad, who is either vaguely dismissive or outright "forgets" that I'm Autistic (he honestly just... doesn't care, and tries to make things convenient for him at the expense of others most of the time). My mom... I'm not real sure. There are times where she seems to remember and others where she doesn't. I'm honestly wondering if they don't like knowing that I'm Autistic because that means my brother would have been as his traits were far more obvious than mine.
I hope that whoever is questioning whether or not they're Autistic has found this helpful at least in the sense that it would point you in the right direction on where to go next, but I would highly recommend checking out online Autistic communities, as that's where I've discovered that I'm on the spectrum.
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TW
tw for: sh & trans stuff & blood & auto-surgery
So you asked about my experience with auto-surgery. I actually wrote a vent fanfiction so I copy-pasted it & added more notes & stuff. The notes I added after are in ((here)) & the rest of it is my vent fanfic. The fanfic is p much accurate to the experience & any inaccuracies are pointed out ((in the)) notes.
I've dreamt about this before, but I never thought I would actually do it. It's completely an impulse decision. Well maybe not completely. I have the sense to find supplies first. Like a pack of razor blades. ...And scissors, toilet paper, rubbing alcohol, ice packs, a needle and thread, and a glass of water to keep me hydrated. I may be making a stupid decision, but I'll at least do it right.
I sit on the floor of my room, and take off my shirt. While holding an ice pack under my… on my chest ((don’t wanna say boobs)), I tie some fabric around my waist so there’s no bloody mess I have to clean. ((didn't work.)) Damn this ice pack is so cold, it almost hurts. Though, that's a good thing. It means my nerves will be numb.
Right.
I look around at my setup in confusion, I've lost my train of thought, ((adhd)) what am I doing what next- Ah, razor.
A thin piece of metal, flexible, yet strong. It doesn't glint in the artificial light. It's a matte metallic grey. I pick up my little prize, and having sanitized ((sadly not sterilized tho)) it in the alcohol and let it dry, letting down the ice pack. I bring it to the underside of my chest- but I can't see it. Disappointment. I put it down.
I need to get my fat ugly breast out of the way. Then it occurs to me- tape! ((I shoplifted this tape)) I use the tape to pull my chest up and back so I can see underneath it, or as much as I can, considering the size of it.
Now, I take up my razor. I remember reading about this one lady who gave herself a cesarean section with three long slices of a kitchen knife. She was a Mexican butcher. ((k so she had to go to the hospital after to get her intestines re-arranged I think. Also, this is what I would ask you to do, If I’m numb I won’t feel it so you can just boom three long swipes with a nice sharp chef’s knife & boom my boob is gone.))
Taking a deep breath, bracing myself for what's to come, I put the razor to my skin and pull. But I don't pull. I lift. I was too afraid, too cowardly to actually try. ((this is why I want someone else to do it)) Thankful to have lost some sensation from binding, I replace the ice pack and breathe again. Ok. I've got this. This is good. This is ok.
I lift the ice pack again, and this time I test my skin slightly. I… can't feel it. At least, not much. So, with the tape pulling back the offending tissue, I use my right hand to swipe across my left chest. It's barely a scratch. I try it again, this time closing my eyes before opening and doing the cut. It's much faster this time, and slightly deeper. How did she do it in three slices with her kitchen knife?
The blood is warm, and it drips down my chest. I unravel some tissue to dab at the blood. Then I make another cut, following inside the first, deepening it.
Yes.
I can't easily reach all the way across the bottom, so I'll have to settle for my scar being slightly on the inside. ((I can legit send a pic of the scar if you’re comfy with that)) I wipe the blood, then replace the ice pack. I need some more freezing. In a moment, I get back to it with the razor.
I can sometimes feel the pain, but I try to ignore it, or freeze it away. I keep slicing, wiping, and icing my chest. ((ok so only the skin felt painful & if you’re good, you can get thru the skin rly fast with the knife)) All the way until I see something unusual.
That's not skin.
That's… something.
Subdermal fat maybe? ((I had seen this already, but this was written as a vent fanfiction)) I keep going with the razor, another slash or two. Then I take hold of my scissors. ((oh the scissors were shit)) I can pinch my loose-from-binding skin to make a slight fold where I can use the scissors. So I do.
I use the scissors to open up the hole wider, ((idk if I actually did a lot of this or only a little bc scissors were painful af)) and I can see the fat in it. It's lumpy and greasy.
I'm disgusting.
It's a yellowish ((in culinary, the paler the fat the healthier the deer/animal. I think it might have just been discoloured from the blood. Btw there was no blood in the fat bc fat doesn’t have caapillaries)) white, made up of little bubbles, or maybe they just look that way because of the mutilation I'm committing. It's covered in red blood, so it looks more of an orange pink.
My gash is about 10cm long, maybe less. Probably less. ((I can measure if u want)) I use the scissors on the fat under the skin, and surprisingly, I can't feel it. I wipe up the blood, ready to strike again, but when I pick up the scissors I've bled again. I wipe again, pick up the scissors again, and prepare to slice again, again; but like last time there is too much blood. ((ugh I remember this, it was so annoying & my rag was already blood soaked))
I try to wipe it up enough to continue with my surgery, but I keep bleeding. and my ice packs are getting warm. ((I had to ask my brother to get me another ice pack but he brought me one that was only partially frozen))
So…
Shower.
I can do this in the shower.
I'm covered in blood, but the water would wash it away, keep it clean, moist, prevent it from clotting, and the cold water could provide numbing. Yes. I'm a genius. Shifting my pins-and-needles legs, I gather all the supplies I can carry, and peek my head around the corner. Nobody is coming.
Perfect.
I dash through the hallway, and my supplies are dumped on the washroom counter.
What do I do now? I… turn on the tap.
The cold water is uncomfortable, but I lean my body down, supporting my weight on either end of the tub, so that the water only runs along my chest. I tense as it cools the flesh. Then I step out of the shower, thankful that only my chest is wet, and try to keep on, but it’s so bloody. ((I remember thinking it literally looked like a murder scene. I was a Sherlock fan t the time))
It would make perfect sense to just bring my tools into the shower with me. I bring in two of my sharpest razors and my scissors, as well as one ice pack. ((I didn’t want the water to warm up the ice)) I run the cold shower over my laceration again, numbing it more, and once I’m done with that, I take my scissors and I put them inside.
Repeat repeat repeat. ((ok I think here is where I try to separate my skin from my breast tissue? I got such bad bruises bc I didn’t manage to take it all out))
Soon, I’m done separating the skin and extending the opening up a little higher. I keep rinsing the blood, the water runs down my entire body at this point, but I’m used to the cold.
I use my scissors to cut in deeper, I can’t feel it in the mammary fat at all. The scissors are opened and closed in rhythm, without being taken out of me between snips, and I reveal something that looks less like skin, and less like the bubbly pale fat. It might be a mammary gland- I’m not sure. It’s a different texture though, and-
Ouch! I can feel that! Damned fuck! I mean heck! ((I think I legit tried to not swear. I hurt a lot to cut that part. If it’s just done in one swipe tho it wouldn’t be as bad))
I water my wound again. I can’t have my body in pain. Just a few more seconds of cold water, and I can get back to it. Or maybe I should use my ice pack too… The ice pack helps freeze whatever that thing is, so I can cut through it with my scissors.
I’ve made a thick cut now, but I’ve seen surgeries before, I’ve watched so many videos of top surgeries, even some full surgery videos. I know what to do.
So I take my razor from the soap-bench in the wall and run it between the skin and my tissue until I get enough space for my scissors. ((oh! no- here’s the part where I separate the skin & get bruising)) My scissors go right between them, opening and closing as I move them around under my skin. I can see my skin stretch around them, like seeing someone’s legs under a blanket.
Now that I have it separated, I could maybe cut out an entire chunk. I rinse my scissors under the shower, and put them down on the floor of the tub, then I look down.
I’m covered in blood.
I open the shower door and look in the mirror across from me. It looks like a murder scene. There, my skin held apart by tape, a gaping slash under my- my breast, blood drips coming down from it, blood spread all over my torso from the water, blood in the hole in my body, ((yes a hole in my body, kinda wish I took a pic)) blood bright red from being mixed with the water, blood clotting on my belly. I made jokes about some things looking like murder scenes before, like when working with food colouring.
Oh how I was wrong.
This is what a murder scene looks like. I’m so bloody. Part of me wants to take a picture, ((lol I was just thinking this!)) but oh hell (I mean heck) that would be messed up. As though I’m not already messed up!
Well I can’t stare, I have work to do. Work. I close the shower door, and bend down to pick up my ice pack, but I need to be careful, I don’t want to disturb my broken chest.
Numbing my chest again, I continue with this routine, pulling out chunks of my own body and flushing them down my shower drain like the serial killer I read about a little while ago. ((I don’t remember much about the chunks. It might have been less chunks than I’m making it sound. I have memory problems so : / ))
At some point I look in the mirror again, and I’m almost disgusted at what I’ve done.
My family probably needs to use the washroom, I’ve probably been showering for an hour now, they might get suspicious.
The smell is metallic & meaty, almost fishy even.
Thankfully, when I look down at my chest, it seems like I might be slightly smaller than before. ((not rly. It partially looked that way bc of the tape)) It definitely looks smaller than the one on my right. I haven’t been using my ice pack much lately. The blue liquid in the plastic pack has lost most of its cold.
I rinse off my less sharp scissors and razor, and spray all of the leftover bubbles of fat and drops of blood down the drain, trying to get the bloody footprints and handprints ((I forgot I made hand/foot prints!! If I had forgotten them mum could have walked in to pee & seen bloody handprints lol)) from the edges of the tub where I supported myself before getting used to the completely cold shower. I rinse off my torso, too now. Blood is strewn all over it, and some has dripped down to my legs, which has now dried. As soon as I rinse it off, I bleed some more. Ah. Well.
Onto the burgundy red floor towel I step, and I try my best to dry off my bloody chest and abdomen, but of the two rags I have, one of them is wet from taking it into the shower, and the other is already soaked with blood. Neither can help. I do my best nonetheless, and decide I should move on to stitches.
I know how to sew, and I’ve gotten stitches before, I should be able to do them. ((irl I had only gotten stitches once & I already gave myself stitches once))
But I can’t find my needle, ((yeah I just couldn’t find my needle when I moved from my room to the washroom)) and the water hasn’t numbed my skin enough. Inside my body, in the fat, I can’t feel it, but, seemingly, I would still be able to feel it if I were to perform my own stitches.
Alrighty then, I can just tape myself together until I dry. But the tape won’t stick. ((ugh this was so annoying! I literally used all of my skin tape)) Neither will the bandaids. I have no sewing needle. I don’t know what to do, crap! I don’t know how to fix this! The tape won’t stick! Screw this fucking hell! I mean hecking heck!
Eventually, I go to my room. I put on my faux binder. It’s an old bra with a piece of fabric of my measurements sewed on the inside to compress my chest, the bra is just for the straps. Over that loose and torn excuse for a binder, I put on bra after bra, binding my semi-detached chest down so that I might be able to sleep without causing more damage.
I have a.. A thing tomorrow. ((practice for my baking competition)) I can go to the hospital a few blocks away from my school ((20 minute walk)) and get stitches there. Maybe they’ll even say I need to get top surgery an’ the gover’ment will pay for it. Yeah that’d be nice. I can jus’ wai’ ‘ntil tomorrow... and tomorrow I can take more ibe- ibu- ibupropen- ibuprofen... ((I wrote like this for the dramatic effect in the vent fic)) I can't take any more t’day. I’ll just go to sleep now n’ then I’ll wake up for school and when mom... asks me whaveter she asks I'll just tell her I have carpentry, and I'll tell the instructor that I’m not working today. ((irl I went to culinary, then told my teacher “actually I’m going to pick up my supplies to practice with & skidaddle”)) He’ll unsterdand, it’s not like I have school, it's the teacher’s comvemtion, I’m not obligated to stay, I can lust jeave. Mum will be none the wiser. Yah. Sleepy time. Hospital tomorrow.
((so yeah. I go to sleep & ppl always say they can’t sleep on their sides so I tried that but I couldn’t handle it so I slept on my side while hugging a pillow to make sure nothing fell. I’m shaking too. Tbh I was just thinking “I’ve been in the bathroom for an hour or more, why has nobody knocked asking to brush their teeth?” I wake up the next day & put on a button-up shirt bc ppl say they can’t lift their arms, I practice walking on google maps to the hospital, then mom drives me to school. I had my learner’s license but I didn’t want to drive bc of my injury. I go in, I tell Chef I’m leaving, he’s cool abt it. So now I’m loaded up with a huge backpack, it’s february in canada & I forgot a jacket (bc I was driving in a warm car to a warm school & busy planning other things), I also brought my fiddle bc I waited for 4 hours last time & was bored, & I have a huge toolbox & a tub of fondant. I walk 20 minutes to the hospital, get in, & I need to change from my mask to the hospital mask. I go through talking to ppl & stuff. Eventually I’m called up for triage & I tell the guy what’s up (& take my meds bc I forgot that morning & she thought I was doing drugs) & sheasks me for my healthcard number & stuff. I think she was able to put my preferred name in the notes. I’m unbuttoning my shirt & she says “actually come in here” so I go into the nurses’ station & she peels up my bras a bit (apparently I’ve bled) & she’s like “wtf bro” & I’m like “what?” & she’s really concerned that I wanted like 12 hours to come. It was like 9-10pm that I was doing it & it was probably 10am at the time I saw her idk. So she gets me into a private room immediately I think (idk I might be mixing this up with the hospital trip where I had to wait for ages. Idk whether I had to wait here too.) Oh I forgot, I also plucked my violin while waiting for triage or to get called to a private room, but I wasn’t allowed. So eventually (really soon by hospital standards) I get taken to a private room. They get me to change into a gown (all of my bras off too) & now my breast isn’t secured. So while I’m waiting I play my fiddle & look up chords on my phone. Everyone likes it. The nurses & doctors & porters are like “where’s that music coming from?” & “It’s like we’re at the beach” bc chords on violin sound like chords on ukelele despite the fact that I was singing mostly mother mother. Ppl come in a lot tbh. I think the doctor comes in but he says “my shift is over soon & you will take a long time, bYe!” also I’ve been asked so many times if this was a suicide attempt & I’m like “nah bro if I wanted to be dead I would be, I’m not actually suicidal anymore.” Eventually a porter comes to move me from my nice private room to some curtained one. I’m plucking my violin quieter but some fuckin security guard says it’s loud & might be disturbingother patients so I play a really quiet eidelwisse & then I think I might stop. The guard called me miss too & it sucked. Eventually the doctor on shift comes & asks me about things & why & he’s also got his hands on my boob. (when I saw the first doctor he asked if I needed a female doctor & I was like “nah dude ur a doctor & I’m a trans.) So he’s going to sew me up & at some point he asks “tdo you want me to take the rest off?” I’m super confused until I realize he’s making a joke: “do you want me to finish the job & take the rest of your boob off?” so I laugh & say “I wish” & he says “I’d do a horrible job” & I’m like “BRo I AlreAdy did a hOrrible job!” so that was funny. He also asked me about trans stuff bc he didn’t understand a lot (he was respectful even tho he didn’t understand) & he even suggested I claim back pain to get a reduction. I have back pain (mostly from binding). Anyways he drops the needle with novacaine or whatever the hell& needsto get a new one & nobody can touch it bc it’s sharp. A few times it hurts but it’s fine I just close my eyes. He asks “do you need more anesthetic?” & I’m like “bro I did this with only a fucking ice pack” but w/o the swears. I ask him if I can bind after & he’slike “idk” so that was fun. I have a dip in my scar now. Then a nurse comes in & puts a fuck ton of bandages & gause on me but it’s stupid bc I was lying doen & as soon as I stood up (& worse when I put on a bra) it changed everything. So they give me a bag for all my bras & I walk back to school. Now it’s like 15.00 or 3 o’clock so I get back to school… & my phone is at 1%. I text my mom “hey I’m done at school” on google hangouts but my phone dies before I know whether or not the message sent. Chef is already gone, so I can’t get into the school. I can’t call mom. I walk around for a bit, assuming she’ll pick me up when she thinks it’s time. Nope. I’m outside in the cold. I start knocking on doors asking for a phone but it’s fricking covid season! I walk to a nearby coffeeshop & borrow the phone of a nice couple. Mom got sus of that. I warm up in the nice coffeeshop, mom takes me home, but she knows I skipped practice. I think she even called my chef. So yeah that was stupid. I told her “haha I went to get drugs” but she didn’t believe me & also what kind of a lie is that? She knew I cut myself, I guess I just didn’t want to worry her or have her demand to see or cry & ask me why I felt the need to change my body. I’m pissed off that she caught me (she caught me last time I gto stitches too). I can’t jump anymore *& I’m wearing my size-up binder. The doctor told me to scrub my stitches in nthe shower, the nurse told me to wrap in in plastic wrap. I’m wearing button shirts for ages after this, I’m avoiding lifting my arms, everything sucks. Whenever I think of it, I could smell it. I smelled the blood. Every time I smelled a glass that was washed in a dishwasher, I smelled my injury. Every time I remembered it, I could smell it. I don’t get that anymore but I was literally in mild shock & I think I may have traumatized myself. There’s more to say but I forget it all & idc so good night))
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Why I Think Entrapdak is Pretty Neat
Hello! How’s the family? Cat treating you okay? Isn’t autumn just...like… the best? Anyway, so, my Hordak thing turned out to be kinda popular. I’m flattered, really! If there are people out there willing to reward me writing stuff with positive attention, then I’ll just have to write more stuff. I mentioned back then that I had a similar write-up about Entrapdak, as a ship… and there seemed to be a little bit of interest in hearing my thoughts on the subject.
So, here ya go! I’m Lancer, by the by. Not a lot to me. I’m a guy who likes things, and who enjoys articulating why I like things. I don’t really do it for any particular reason. I’m not trying to pwn haters or convert nonbelievers… As you may recall, though you might have missed it (I tend to be very lowkey and subtle about it), I’m not your dad and have no interest in the position… unless it pays. I just feel like the internet doesn’t have enough positivity, and the best way to remedy that is to produce some of my own.
As fate would have it, I like Entrapdak. A lot. I don’t ship often... a relationship has to really sync with me on a profound level to make me invested enough in it to want to write about it, but this one did it. Now, I’m not really promising originality here. As someone who explores the tag frequently, I know that plenty have expressed feelings I’m going to share with you here, many of whom did so better than I ever could, but sometimes you want to share your perspective, even if others whose opinions mirror yours have done so in the past, y’know? It’s a human thing!
The relationship is a little… polarizing with people, though, I’ve noticed. A lot of people hate it, and have various reasons for doing so. Again, I ain’t here to convert you if you feel that way, but I did feel like the best way to kick things off would be to look at some of the major reasons other people tend to react to the ship like it were horseradish on a hotdog, and why those reasons don’t really bother me. A part that I, in my infinite wit and adorned in my clever pants, have dubbed:
Part 1: Entrapdak- Why I don’t hate it
***EXAMPLE THE FIRST: “HORDAK, THE AGED”***
By now it’s fairly well known that Entrapta is somewhere in the range of her late 20s to her early 30s. Now a few people refuse to accept this, citing her behavior as childish and accusing the creators of lying. I’m not really going to engage with that perspective. Hordak and Entrapta have appeared together in creator works and concept art dating back to 2017. Their interactions were intended to be a part of the show from the early stages of its creation. If you have so little faith in Noelle that you believe she planned for her story to have a romantic-coded relationship between an adult and a minor… I don’t know what I can even tell you.
Rather, the perspective that interests me comes from people who accept Entrapta being in the stated age range, but who still find themselves repulsed by the relationship on grounds of age. ‘She’s an adult, sure, but how old is Hordak? He could be in his fifties or sixties, or even be hundreds of years old.’ This point of view is at least interesting to think about, so I reckon I can share why this deal-breaker for some doesn’t really bother me.
To begin, assigning human ages, and the stigmas thereof, to an alien bat clone just feels strange to me. The Horde doesn’t seem like the type of place to want to waste resources on alien bat clone daycare... was Hordak born as an infant, or was he artificially developed to his current age? If it’s the later, do we consider him 0 years old at the moment of his birth, or already an adult? We don’t have a timescale provided to accurately determine his age, so investing too heavily in trying to learn it seems somewhat tedious and a lotofwhat pointless.
If we do, though, my next question is: what is the element of an age gap that makes it inappropriate? Now, that’s a personal question, of course. Morality isn’t something that really lends itself to objective declarations, but there are a few answers you can offer. ‘Morality’ isn’t really the operative word here anyway... since it has more to do with taste, though this particular taste does come from what you believe… Y’know, it just occurred to me, but… People who believe that their taste in ships makes them morally superior, and that ships they dislike are supported by moral degenerates, seem like people who just aren’t a lot of fun to be around or think about… but that’s a digression, I’ll refocus my thought-lazer.
For me, with age gaps, it comes down to two things:
1.) Both parties being on the same side of the child/adult divide- I should hope this one sounds reasonable, right? The ships that really powdered sugar my poptart are the ones that feel like equal partnerships, and relationships that try to cross this line tend to not be especially equal.
2.) What stage in their lives they’re at- It’s difficult for even a wizard of self expression like myself to state plainly, so let me give an example: If I saw a 25 year old dating a 50 year old, the 25-year age difference isn’t so much what makes it off-putting, but rather what those 25 years represent in this circumstance. At age 25, people are still struggling to find themselves. They’re adjusting to independence, gaining an identity, maybe finally finding an entryway into a career path that suits them. By 50, a person is already established. They likely have a career, they have a firm grasp on who they are as a person and what they want to be, and they almost certainly have a greater degree of financial stability. Thus, if they enter a relationship, which is supposed to be equal, it doesn’t feel that way. One side has a stronger position than the other, and over time that could become power they use to sway and control the other.
I don’t see Hordak as being in a more advanced stage of his life than Entrapta. They seem to be at about the same place when it comes to self actualization. In fact, Hordak is a bit more arrested in his development than Entrapta is, simply because he’s never really thought to question what would make him happy or why. Hordak rules the Horde, which Entrapta is a part of… which could lead to an imbalance, if Entrapta, like, could be bothered to give even the slightest toss of a salad about status or promotion, but she doesn’t. Neither of them holds higher ground over the other in a way that’s significant to the two of them. In terms of life stage, they’re perfectly equal. The fact that Hordak might be physically older than her by some unspecified amount is, by itself, completely arbitrary and meaningless.
*** EXAMPLE THE SECOND: ‘ENTRAPTA, THE MANIPULATED’***
A second, rarer discussion point for those who are unfond of the ship is that it’s unhealthy, on the grounds that Hordak is manipulating Entrapta. Taking advantage of her naivete to coerce her into aiding the forces of darkness despite not caring for her at all. Now, as I mentioned above, I ain’t writing this to change anyone’s mind. If you’re reading this, and this is a viewpoint you hold as valid, do what makes you happy, homie. That said, the issue I ran into when I tried to think of why this perspective didn’t bother me was a vexing one. See, I like to fancy myself an empathetic dude. I try really hard to consider other people’s perspectives when I have a disagreement, and avoid judging anyone too harshly if I don’t know their full circumstance… but even with all that alleged empathy at my disposal… this hot take about Entrapdak is… kinda completely incomprehensible to me?
Like, I have no idea how anyone could have seen the interactions between the two and draw this conclusion?
Part of it has to do with how Entrapta is written. She’s both ADHD-coded and Autistic-coded, and there’s a tendency to perceive the behaviors of both those groups of people as childish. People who see that ‘childishness’ extrapolate it further to a general innocence/stupidity, and assume the character in question lacks the faculties to engage with other people evenly.
Look, I don’t have ADHD, but I am super, duper autistic. Having lived with myself for a lifetime, let me just say, I kind of get why this happens. We get extremely focused on our hobbies, we’re bad at reading social nuance, we have very simplistic body language, we tend to express our emotions in a very blunt and straightforward manner… I get that, for most neurotypical people, the only other group they ever encounter who shares these traits are children, and thus they tend to subconsciously connect the two. I understand why it happens, even if I do find it awkward and condescending.
…but y’all are underestimating Entrapta. She’s not helping the horde because she’s helpless and being manipulated. She’s helping them because she has no moral compass to speak of, and will eagerly assist with any scientific endeavor she finds interesting, without care for its ultimate application. In season 1, she knew well in advance the damage her actions would have on the world, and followed through with them anyway. In season 2, she happily assisted in the creation of a portal, knowing full-well that its opening would invite a colonialist military force into the vicinity of her home, and only withdrew her support for the project… hesitantly… when it became clearly evident that activating it would eradicate all life on the planet. At no point is she ever acting while the applications of her actions are being hidden from her by Hordak. She’s not an innocent child.
The thing is, though, I agree that Entrapta would be incredibly easy to manipulate… if someone knew what buttons to push. She is very self conscious of how difficult it is for her to form lasting emotional bonds with other people. She tends to blame herself when she feels she’s been abandoned by others, and feels that her inability make friends is a sign that she’s a defective failure. If someone wanted to manipulate her into doing something she didn’t want to do, they would probably find success if they offered her friendship and then fed into that self loathing, emotionally abusing her by implying that she was indeed a failure, and would be abandoned again if she didn’t obey. That is totally something someone could do to her, and I would absolutely not enjoy any ship between her and such a person. Good thing Hordak… y’know… did literally the opposite of that.
***EXAMPLE THE THIRD- “ENTRAPDAK, THE PLATONIC”***
A nice short one to balance out the longer examples above. Quite a few people just deny that there are romantic implications behind their interactions, and see them as a friendship instead. I do disagree with this assessment, but honestly, even if it were true, this would still be my favorite relationship in the show.
Something that has always boggled me about people on the internet is their tendency to treat friendship like some ‘equal but opposite’ force to romance… a status independent of a romantic relationship rather than literally the foundation upon which all successful romantic relationships are built. Genuine friendship is a beautiful, underrated thing, and acting as though the bond of friendship is inherently less worthy of appreciation than romance is silly.
So… yeah… platonic Entrapdak… I disagree, but even if you’re right and I’m wrong in the end… I’ll be pretty okay with that, too. Movin’ on.
***EXAMPLE THE FOURTH: ‘HORDAK, THE IRREDEEMABLE’***
For the last dealbreaker I want to consider today, I figured I’d bring one up that’s a lot like the platonic argument, in my eyes: that an evil guy like Hordak can’t change his ways, even with the power of love. Thus, the relationship is bust, because what’s the point of of a villain x heroine ship, if not to redeem the villain?
...
So, recently I wrote this whole big thing about Hordak, where I argued in favor of his redemption, and why I felt like that was where the story is going… I stand by the opinions expressed there, but I’d like to ask any who read that to push it out of their mind for now. Hordak’s redemptive potential is largely irrelevant to my feelings about this ship. When it comes to entrapdak, when confronted by the possibility that Hordak may remain a villain, my reaction is the most intense and passionate of shrugs.
...I just don’t care.
There’s a tendency to assume that redemption is the aim of a villain ship, and I suppose I can see why that is. There’s a bit of a stereotype for female fantasies where they fix a broken man with the power of their love, and when people ship villains, that’s probably the first assumption an outsider will make as to why. I cannot speak for others, but that’s just not a factor in the appeal of their relationship for me.
When you allow yourself to be vulnerable in front of another person, you open yourself up to the risk of being completely devastated by them. When you show vulnerability to another person, and they accept that side of you, and express vulnerability of their own, you establish a genuine connection with that person, and those connections are kiiiinda one of the most important elements of the human experience.
That Hordak was a villain who did terrible things was always kinda aside from the point of what really makes Entrapta and Hordak such a bewitching pairing for me. It was always the serendipity of two people who privately believe they’re alone in the world realizing they resonate with one another in a meaningful way. Resonance is the appeal of Entrapdak, not redemption.
I tend to hope for Hordak’s redemption, I won’t lie, and I do think it’s likely, but I don’t think it’ll be love that redeems him, nor would I want it to be… not entirely. I like seeing flawed, morally dark/gray characters overcome the obstacles that deny them self actualization, and watching them grow as a result.
That’s got nothing to do with him and Entrapta, though. Whether the story ends with the pair of them riding into the sunset to collect data and invent shit, or with the pair of them leading the Horde in the name of galactic conquest and terror… I’m down with it either way, dude. In the context of the ship, I care that Hordak is an evil overlord… about as much as Entrapta does.
However, pseudo-responding to naysayers is a bit negative for my tastes. I prefer to focus on the positive in life, like the smell of soil and rain on a crisp autumn morning. I… I’m in a very fall mood, okay? Sue me. Y’know what else I like, though? Entrapdak. Lemme wax poetic for a bit longer, and I’ll tell ya why this ship is, like, the peanut butter on my blueberry pancakes.
Part 2: Entrapdak- Why I love it
So, uh… If brevity is the soul of wit, I may be something of an idiot. I’ve made my peace with that, of course, I’m just sayin’: I’m many things, but I’m not pithy. If someone were to put a gun to my head, though, and demand that I describe the shipping aesthetic I love the most in life in a single sentence… I would probably respond with this:
My favorite ships are ones in which awkward, lonely people bond over a shared fondness of nerdy hobbies.
Now, that sounds super narrow, and it totally is… I don’t get new OTPs very often… but hearing that, I imagine you can see why Entrapta and Hordak immediately appealed to me. It goes a bit deeper, though.
The bonds between people are a major part of the story of She-ra. We see how characters are changed, positively or negatively, by the connection they share with other characters. Just like in real life, these connections are a mixed bag; some of them are positive, and some are negative. Some characters, like Hordak and Catra, resonate strongly with one another, but the resonance is a negative force in their lives, which draws them deeper into darkness, and for many of the characters in the show, their character journeys are about breaking free of such toxic relationships and forming healthy bonds.
The bond between Entrapta and Hordak is unique among all bonds in the show though, in that it is the only one that isn’t mixed. It is an unambiguous positive influence on both of them. Let’s break it down a little bit.
***ENTRAPTA***
Entrapta, at first, seems like the kind of person who isn’t super connected to other people. At the princess prom, she mentions that she finds observing the relationships of others far more fascinating than forging relationships of her own, and she spends much of the early seasons working alone with her robots, buried in whichever task happens to have her interest in that particular moment.
Later seasons gradually tear this facade away, though, and reveal a fairly tragic truth hidden behind it. I mentioned above that she internalizes her failures to form lasting bonds with other people, and is genuinely distraught about it. When she’s exiled to Beast Island, her frustration at her inability to make friends was the driving force that chained her there, even more so than her love of technology and invention. It becomes clear that, to some degree, she buries herself in her work to escape her feelings of inadequacy.
This is a relatable and sad thing to realize about a character, but it also has the unpleasant effect of making events that were played for laughs earlier in the show somewhat tragic in hindsight. Seeing the way she interacted with the Princess Alliance, you could see how she would have come to a very soul-crushing misunderstanding: That, among other people, she was someone whose presence was… tolerated- at times even appreciated- but never seemed to be enjoyed by anyone. She was the friend everyone sought out when they needed her help, then forgot about.
This wasn’t the case, of course, and clarifying her value to the group was what ultimately helped her escape the vines in season four, but from her perspective that was how it appeared, and likely how all her previous interactions with other people had gone before that. Some people complained about how easily Entrapta was able to believe that the princesses had left her behind, but it’s the same reason Hordak was so easily able to believe that Entrapta had betrayed him: In the eyes of someone who hates themselves, it’s only a matter of time before others abandon them.
That said, it also goes to show why Hordak became so special to her. For the first time in her life, she had a friend who joined her in her workspace, instead of leaving her to a task after giving it to her. Someone able to converse equally with her about subjects she was interested in. The elements of herself that made it so difficult to draw closer to others were the very same elements that caused her to get so close to him. Her intelligence and hyper-focus upon science made her the intellectual peer of a space-faring alien, her lack of awareness of social subtext helped her to see beyond the barriers he put up to keep other people away, and her past experience with failure and rejection helped her to empathize with his pain.
It’s perfectly pleasant to find someone who accepts you and enjoys your company despite not understanding the idiosyncratic elements of your personality, but that pales in comparison to how it feels to find someone who accepts you precisely because they understand those elements.
***Hordak***
Hordak didn’t really have ‘peers’, per se, for most of his life. We don’t know the level of autonomy the average clone has in the Horde… but I feel comfortable assuming that the level isn’t very high. Thus, his circumstance differs quite a bit from Entrapta, in that, rather than trying to form bonds with others, and feeling like he failed, for much of his life he never had the chance to try to form them in the first place.
He is, at first, deeply dismissive of the people of Etheria, whom he regards as primitives who are beneath his acknowledgment. Much of this, as with much of everything that dictates how he treats others, is born of projection… dude has some pretty major self-loathing issues… but regardless of cause, it results in a kind of self-imposed isolation.
Unlike Entrapta, who knew, on some level, that her lack of ability to bond with others troubled her, Hordak kept most of his emotions bottled up... Locked so deeply inside him that not even he really bothered to try to understand them. That was where her disposition and his meshed perfectly for him. Because Entrapta was defined by her curiosity, and her lackluster awareness of his attempts to keep her at bay, she was able to metaphorically crack him open, forcing him to vocalize and confront his own motivations.
Sometimes you need someone to just… like... grab you with their hair, push you up against a vat, and demand you tell them everything, man.
I’ve already discussed Hordak fairly extensively in my first blog blurb thingy, and while I repeat myself by accident quite frequently, I’m loathe to repeat myself on purpose. I just wanted to take the opportunity to marvel at how well their personalities fit together. Perhaps I’m just high on this feeling: I’ve never actually shipped something a creator so clearly intended to be there, before!
*** In Conclusion***
We’re all born imperfect, and we’ll all die imperfect. Our imperfections are similar, but never uniform. Each of us bears jagged cuts and missing sections of many shapes and sizes. Humans are social creatures, and it’s in our nature to constantly seek one another out. We keep trying to find people who are strong where we are weak; someone whose missing sections happen to lie in a pattern compatible with our own.
We’ll resonate with many in our lifetime. Sometimes, the melody will be harmonious, and guide all involved higher and higher into the light of self actualization. Other times the sound will be discordant, and pull us down into self destruction. Sadly, from our perspective in the middle, it will always be difficult to tell which is which.
I love the relationship between Entrapta and Hordak because it’s a dynamic that elevates both of them. Not in a moral sense, but in a personal one. In a series defined by toxic and uneven relationships that wear others down and tear them apart, these two have a dynamic that shelters and reinforces them. Giving them an opportunity to be glad they were born the way they were, instead of cursing their misfortune.
It’s the kind of relationship that makes me muse about how imperfection really is beautiful. It’s because we’re imperfect that we never stop trying to harmonize with other people, and if there’s one theme I can’t help but feel that the show itself is building toward, it’s this:
Two in harmony surpass one in perfection.
***
So hey! Thanks for reading all of that! Sorry if it was a bit of a mess. Saying nothing with a great deal of words is a talent of mine, but I really do love these guys, and if you love ‘em too, don’t let anyone grind you down over it!
Let me know if you enjoyed my work, though! If so, I’ll be happy to share my thoughts on other things, since I’ll be stuck with this series on my brain until I see how my new obsession plays out. In the meantime take care of yourselves! If you do heavy lifting, make sure to do so with your knees, not your back. Tell someone who makes your day a little brighter how much you appreciate them. Then, take some time to savor the greatest of all winter beverages: hot apple cider.
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Hiii again. I figured that submit option would be easier for this. ^^
I love your matchups, they’re so accurate and thought through.❤️ Can I have one too? My name’s Emily, I have blue hair and blue “husky” eyes, got two tattoos and plan to have more, I’m very pale and I hate people saying things like “you look like a ghost, go get a tan” I usually dress like a witch, but sometimes i doll myself up as a pinup girl to feel pretty.I’m autistic, depressed, have ADHD & ptsd (nice combo, ha?^^) I’m also sarcastic, reserved and have a dark sense of humor.I’m oversensitive to lights and noises. I don’t like being hugged or touched by strangers, but once i get comfortable with someone I transform into their koala.^^ My life is a bit messy, I try to do tasks on time and remember important things, but it’s hard. I have two kids cats, Lilith I found under the bridge and Harold in woods. I’m a big spooky fun, I love horror movies and Halloween. I like drawing (my arts are creepy tho, def not for everyone to see), playing guitar, singing, reading books, running and walking in the woods. I’m interested in psychology & astrophysics and I love when people want me to teach them something. I can’t live without music and my cats. @dont-be-alarmed
Hi, my love! 💙 Thank you so much, I spend a lot of time on matchups and it means a lot that you, one of my favourite writers, find them accurate! I hope this one lives up to your kind words and that you enjoy it! 💜 (I’m happy to redo it if not, angel!) I wanted to give back to you after all you’ve ever done for me and for this community, and so I went on your other blog and scrolled through; I found a post about yourself and Arthur and I’ve tried to incorporate pieces of that in here to make it as… emotionally you as I could. I hope that you don’t mind! 💚
Total word count: 3, 785.
Arthur // wc: 1, 755.
Arthur is… completely in awe of you. You caught his attention due to your bright blue hair; such a vibrant colour in the grimy streets of Gotham which are made up of much the same; grey concrete, grey walls, grey buildings, grey sky, is unusual and eye-catching. Arthur wants to be seen and he admires the courage you possess in having such a hair colour. And your eyes, oh… It’s canon that Arthur likes to touch people’s cheeks and he holds people’s faces in his hands, and when sea green meet your blues, the entire world stops and Arthur can only sink into you; for if eyes are windows to the soul then surely yours is radiant. You’re not afraid to paint the blank canvas which is your body and Arthur likes to trace your tattoos with a careful finger, his lips moving silently as he thinks to himself; he wants to know if there are stories behind them, why you got them, how badly they hurt, what they mean to you… if the mind is an ocean then Arthur wants to dive right into yours and discover your murkiest depths now. But he holds back; he doesn’t want to ruin what he’s building with you, and so every day when he discovers something new does he only fall deeper and deeper in love with you. You’re very pale and people are quick to point it out. If it happens in front of Arthur, he’s quick to frown, “Don’t say things like that to her, Emily’s perfect just as she is!”. He won’t tell people off when they say bad things about him, but about you? He has to stop himself from going feral and he contents himself with snapping at them or, if it’s something which is truly nasty, Arthur gives them such a look it’s like he’s trying to kill them without even touching them. His knees will bounce and he’ll giggle around his cigarette, but he’ll only be concerned for you. Arthur would do anything for you. No matter what you were, Arthur always compliments you sincerely; his voice soft and raspy because he’s barely able to speak through the rising laughing in his throat. Such is the effect you have on him.
You and Arthur have so much in common. Sometimes when you talk to each other, it’s like you’re talking to yourself but you’re hearing it in a different voice. You have shared many experiences and there’s so much about Arthur which exists within yourself; you are both so worthy of love and you are both capable of being loved for exactly who you are, and in the early days first of friendship (though you begin to date quickly, both of you so eager to discover what may exist between you), you mostly bond together over your shared dark sense of humour. Over the weeks which bleed into months, Arthur’s comedy material becomes more tailored to your sense of humour; for what you find funny and making you smile means more to him than anyone else. He could have a crowd at Pogo’s captivated but your smile would be the only one which he has eyes for. The both of you are so tried and tired, so weary and you’ve both been through so much more than people should ever have to go through, but you help each other and you’re there for each other as much as you can be every single day. You’re over sensitive to lights and to noises so when you’re out in public together, Arthur keeps a close eye on you. He learns the signs for when it’s becoming too much and the two of you talk often; late night discussions with dimmed lamps and a turned down volume on the TV, and the two of you learn how to help each other and how to be more open together. It’s a shared journey, this love between you, and it’s once in a lifetime. Neither of you could ever want this with anyone else. Arthur was almost shocked by the difference in you from when he first met you to when you became comfortable with him and all the ways in which you showed affection changed and became more intimate, but he takes it as a compliment. You’re so comfortable with him and he cherishes that information above anything else. He’s just as comfortable with you, and he tries to show you every single day the depths of the love which he holds for you.
Your life is as messy as Arthur’s is busy, but the two of you make it work as best as you can. You do your best to remember important things but it’s hard, and for everything you forget is Arthur there to remind you. Sometimes he has to leave the apartment before you so he’ll leave a quickly scrawled note taped to the front door in big letters so you can see it even from a distance, or he’ll make sure that you’ve got everything ready in the same place, like right next to or on top of your shoes so they can’t be forgotten. Your two kitties, Lilith and Harold, are doted upon by yourself and by Arthur. He had always wanted a pet, someone or something to come home to whom was happy to see him, and now he has three beings who love him: you, Lilith and Harold. The fact that you rescued both of your children shows the true depths of your heart and Arthur’s in awe of you. He adores watching you interact with them. It always makes him coo and the ice in his heart which is left over from the day melts away and then evaporates completely at the touch of your hand and the sound of your voice. You love horror films and Hallowe’en and Arthur loves watching how excited you get when October rolls around! Carving pumpkins together, creating decorations and the jokes just get darker and more morbid… he comes to love the holiday as much as you do, though he’s not as fond of horror films as you are. Life is horrifying enough and if he wants to be scared, he’ll just watch the news - but when you’re more comfortable together and you’re his koala, he likes to cling to you and hide his face in your neck as a way of becoming closer to you. Arthur cherishes the few scant hours he gets with you every night. It’s yours and his favourite time of day and it only makes your daily hardships almost worth it.
You are… extremely creative. Your writing is so descriptive and so vivid, your drawing is beautiful, you can sing, you play an instrument… music runs through your soul just as surely as it does within Arthur, and one night when Arthur was much too shy to tell you that he loved you, he instead said, “you are the music in me”. It’s an admission which, years later, still haunts you in the best way. If you ever let him read what you have written or view what you have created, though he may be creeped out, he would still compliment you sincerely and ask you some questions, wanting to see things through your beautiful blue eyes. If you’re open to the idea, Arthur would love to sit down and listen to you sing and play the guitar; and if you have ever written any songs for him, they would bring tears to his eyes and he would find himself choking down laughter. How can you love him this much? Just as much as you have become more open and kinder to yourself in loving Arthur, so has he because of your love, and the two of you walk hand in hand down the path of life together, leading each other into your better selves; such is the power of love. When you read, Arthur likes to write in his journal and the sounds of his scrawling are the perfect accompaniment to the sounds of your turning the pages of the book you cradle in the palm of your hands as surely as you hold Arthur’s heart in your hands. Though he never asks, Arthur would love to go with you on a walk through the woods. You can see it in his eyes sometimes, how desperately he wants to go with you, but he’s too afraid of rejection and too shy. When you come back from your running, the bathroom is all ready for you to have a shower, there are clean clothes out for you and dinner is ready. Arthur does everything he can to take the best care of you possible; for truly do you deserve nothing less than the best of everything in life.
You’re interested in a variety of subjects and as a way to engage with you, for he so loves the way your eyes and face light up when you’re talking about the things you’re passionate about, Arthur would sit down with you and ask you questions. Even if he doesn’t fully understand what you’re talking about, especially with astrophysics, he still sits and he listens and Arthur engages with you. And if you have a hyperfixation, then he’s right there with you. He validates your interests and wants to know as much as you’re willing to share with him! It’s just another way for him to spend time with you, to get to know you, to tell you that he loves you. You’ve spent many a night talking the time away about your interests and you have so much in common that it’s unsurprising that you feel like you have known each other forever. Music and cats are your life and Arthur protects everything that he knows about you, because you mean the entire world to him and you deserve to know just how much he loves you! No matter where you go, what you do or who you become, Arthur loves you for all of you - he’s learned all the ways to help you through your various struggles, through the things which you go through (including the ones only you know about), and he does everything he can to help you, to love you the way that you deserve to be. Even when he’s so, so tired, the two of you pull each other through life with your joined hands, fingers interlocked… and neither of you will ever let go of the other.
Joker // wc: 2, 030.
By now, you and Joker know each other like the backs of your hands. There isn’t much that you don’t know about each other, though of course is it impossible to ever really know someone in their entirety, so every day do you discover something new about one another which only makes you fall deeper in love with each other. Even though you know each other so well, Joker still finds himself wanting to completely dive into who you are to find out everything all at once; to view the tapestry of your life in its entirety without having to wait for the discovery of something else. He loves you so much it hurts him in the best way. Your name is Joker’s favourite word and he sometimes catches himself whispering it when he needs some extra strength or a reason to slow the rage in his veins, which threatens to poison his heart and turn his soul away from the goodness which still exists in his very core, unchanged is he deep inside himself where he is safest. You were there with Arthur through it all and you only loved him more as the man he was now. With your bright blue hair and Joker’s electric green hair, the two of you catch people’s attention when you’re out in public; Gothamites aren’t known for their courageous self expression, so wearied and beaten are they by the soulless and relentless demands of the city. The two of you like to redye your hair together; even if Joker’s hair has faded back into his naturally dark curls, he will wait for you to need to redye your hair. Joker dyes your hair and you dye his and the flecks of blue and green blend and merge together in the bathroom sink; Joker likes to get messy so green runs all down his back and pools into the waistband of his baggy underwear, and he ends up making more mess than you do. Joker adores your tattoos and he knows the reasons and stories behind them as well as you do and he gets excited when you talk about having more. Joker’s less forgiving now when people make comments about how pale you are, and he’s not afraid to narrow his eyes, his nostrils flaring slightly in anger, and fire back a few well-timed insults of his own. Whether you dress like a witch or as a pinup girl, Joker is in awe of you and sometimes he literally chokes on air because he’s just so stunned by you and all that you are; you’re so beautiful inside and out and he just can’t believe, even now, how lucky he is to be loved by you.
Just because Joker gave up on his own mental health - he stopped taking his medications, he stopped taking care of himself and he stopped caring - it didn’t mean that he would ever allow you to do the same. Joker wanted nothing but the best for you and he would do anything he could for you. This, combined with the fact that Joker knows exactly how to support you and how to look after you when you need to be loved extra hard. Both of you are worthy of being loved for exactly who you are, and when you feel like you’re unwanted and not capable of being loved, Joker cradles you on his lap - your favourite seat - and tucks your head into his chest, his heartbeat pounding in your ear to ground you and to calm you. He knows how to hold you, how to talk to you, how to comfort you, and he even knows how to ground himself and also you in the same touches. If anyone understands you and what you go through every single day, it’s Arthur, and that’s never been and would never be any different. You’re sarcastic and Joker enjoys playful banter between the two of you. He knows when you’re being sarcastic because you’re having fun and when you’re being sarcastic because your mood is low, but either way will Joker snap back. He enjoys swapping comments with you if that’s something you like to do, and by now his dark humour is perfectly tailored to your own. Of all the citizens in Gotham, your smile is the only one which matters and your laughter is the only one Joker closes his eyes to fully savour. You are Joker’s koala now and he loves every touch which you gift him with. Coming home to you is the absolute favourite part of Joker’s every day and sometimes he stays away for just a little longer so that he can get an extra enthusiastic hug or some clingy touches. You’re over sensitive to lights and noises and Joker is used to keeping the TV on a certain volume and to buying a certain type of light bulb so that the lamps are always dim enough for you. You are always Joker’s main priority and that will never be any different. You’re his entire world and when he cups your face in his hands to kiss you, he likes to say, “I’ve got the whole world in my hands, Emily. Look after it for me, okay?”. The first time you did it back to him, he almost sobbed with love for you even as he nodded and said, “mm-hm”. The sound was smug even with how overwhelmed he was in that moment and your stomach swooped; as again did you only love him more.
Your life is still a bit messy but oh, you do your best. Joker knows better than anybody how it can feel to do your best and to still feel like you’re not doing enough, like you’re not trying enough, like you’re not good enough for all of the demands and responsibilities which are daily placed on you without reprieve or without a break, and he continues to do everything he can to help you, to be there for you and to support you. He leaves notes lying around to help you remember to do things, to not forget things, and if ever you do forget something, Joker’s there to do it for you. There is only ever love in the things he does. Looking after you and being there for you and loving you is the reason Joker does what he does, the reason he tries every single day to reconnect with the man you first fell in love with. Oh, but he was still that man; he had only stopped caring, he had only succumbed to all that was making him numb, and every day did you love him just as fiercely and just as strongly as you always had. Your two cats are spoiled rotten by the both of you; Joker still loves to watch you interact with them and when chaos is shut away, when his suit is hung up and his face is washed, Joker likes to sit on the sofa with you to watch the news with your children around you; his fingers in their fur or in your hair, and the two of you talk quietly. About your days, about the things you need to do tomorrow, how you have been feeling... the evenings are ticked away in this way, with the two of you indulging only in each other. You love horror films and Hallowe’en and still does Joker love how excited you get! He joins in with you now with the celebration and the decorations, but instead of hiding within you now while you watch horror films, scared did he used to be, he now watches you with them and cracks dark jokes. In one film, the screaming victim got decapitated and Joker snorted and said, “Talk about losing your head when it gets crazy out there”. It’s up to you if you join in with him but if you do, he will turn to the side to give you his attention, only just watching whatever is on the old and grainy screen. He loves to cuddle with you and if you ever get scared of the things you watch, Joker assumes the protective role as he cuddles you. “Nothing’s going to hurt you, Emily. Joker’s here.”. He would die for you, kill for you... you’re his entire world and he loves you with everything that he is, everything that he has.
You are very creative and to this day, Joker is still in awe of everything that you’re able to do. Your writing is so beautiful and everything that you create is beautiful. Your arts are creepy but Joker’s not creeped out by them anymore. Long ago did he stare into the abyss and see it staring back, so what used to negatively affect him rarely does now. “Awh, that’s sweet.” // “Joker, it’s - there’s blood all over the - “ // “Yeah,” He shrugs, “But it’s sweet in a morbid way, you know?” You thought you did, but you weren’t entirely sure. Either way, you were just glad that he liked your arts. His support meant the world to you. You have an entire playlist of songs you would like to play for Joker, and when you ask if you can play for him, Joker beams and practically runs across the room to sit down for you, running a hand through those dyed green curls which bounce gently against the tops of his shoulders as he does so. Joker is transfixed by the way you play the guitar; your hands are one of his favourite parts of you because they create pure magic every single day. You love to read and when you do, Joker tends to read through his old journal. It’s a quiet time for the both of you and it’s most likely that Joker will want to cuddle with you while you do these things; so that you can spend time together... separately. Occasionally, Joker might read a joke out loud; they’ll be dark jokes, ones which make you laugh because you know not how else to react, and he’ll soak in your response. Don’t fake your laughter, though, Joker will notice and he won’t appreciate that. By now, he’s used to your routine when it comes to running and walking in the woods, so he doesn’t ask if he can go with you - he’ll know if you want him to join you by the way you said goodbye to him. If you linger near him, he’ll know that you want him to join you; but if you’re quickly out of the door, then he knows he should stay. When you come home, everything is ready for you to get clean and comfortable; for Joker will always do what he can to look after you, no matter what!
On the nights when everything he’s ever said and done catches up to him, or when the world is just too loud and you need everything and everyone to go away, the two of you hole up in the bedroom. If Joker is the one who needs comforting, then you’re the one who reads to him or tells him about anything you’re currently hyperfixated on or curious about, but if you’re the one who needs comforting then Joker reads from his old journal or reads your current book to you. You can’t live without music or your cats and that’s precisely why Joker protects everything that you hold most dear to you, and that includes his own self. The both of you are so similar in so many ways and you have both shared many of the same experiences. You have so much love between you, so much need to be seen, known and loved, and you both have a dark sense of humour. You’re both strong and brave, creative and so full of love, and no matter what happens or who you both become, you will fall together again and again... and again. You’re soulmates and you’re truly meant to be, and that’s all that matters. Arthur Fleck loves you for all of you, through every rise and fall!
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How Do I Get My Dog Certified As A Therapy Dog
How do i qualify for an emotional support animal
Requests for emotional help animals put therapists in a difficult scenario. If in case you have any of the life-limiting well being points described above or another persona or emotional condition that has a demonstrable adverse affect on your life, you'll be able to qualify for an ESA prescription. As famous above, the problem in query does not need to be utterly debilitating. How to get emotional support animal Many people with emotional help animals dwell lives that a complete stranger would see as utterly regular as a result of the issues they live with are obvious only to them or are solely a concern in particular conditions.
National Service Animal Registry offers information on legal guidelines and authorized matters associated to Service Animals and Emotional Help Animals and is designed for informational purposes only, and, while believed to be accurate, is offered strictly "as is," without guarantee of any type. This website does not provide authorized recommendation and the knowledge introduced shouldn't be supposed as an alternative choice to authorized advice from a certified attorney. NSAR Company, its agents, affiliates, or employees is not going to be chargeable for any damages, direct or indirect, or lost income arising out of your use of knowledge provided at this web site, or data provided at another website that may be accessed from this site.
Along with web sites providing a therapist's letter, there are now a variety of websites offering to register your emotional support animal with their company. The official sounding National Service Dog Registry , which allows you to register your furry companion as an emotional support animal for the low value of $64.ninety nine, sends you a certificates of registration and some tags to identify your dog in exchange for the charge. There isn't a such factor as a assist animal registry, however, and the Nationwide Service Canine Registry even states in small print that such registration just isn't wanted. Emotional assist animal dog tags are also provided by many websites, but ID tags are not required by legislation. How do you get an emotional support dog letter
Your landlord should enable your animal to accompany you in all areas of the property where you'll usually have access. This contains tenant frequent areas corresponding to recreation parks and in your individual residence. However, since your emotional assist animal does not endure particular coaching, there could also be some public areas he cannot go that service dogs could also be allowed. As a common rule, your landlord will not be allowed to restrict or discriminate against your emotional support dog based solely on its breed. Your dog should be evaluated based on his own conduct and demeanor in public. who qualifies for an emotional support dog However, an exception may be made if your landlord's insurance coverage policy locations restrictions on sure breeds of canine.
How Do I Qualify For An Emotional Support Animal
My son and I for years have been attempting to alleviate his ADHD, anxiety, and despair. We have tried mediation and plenty of different issues. Ultimately I agreed to strive a drug. It was ok for a couple years but now could be having negative effects that he and I aren't kosher with. His PMD referred him to a therapist to write an approval letter for an ESA. I have already, after a very long time, gotten him the canine. Now am ready for a letter. It's so very frustrating that this is something that's helping but nobody wants to help him. So unhappy for my 12 yr outdated.
Who qualifies for an emotional support dog
In case you are experiencing a disability, which includes psychological ache or illness signs, it's best to have any drawback getting a physician to sign a letter prescribing an ESA for you. You possibly can choose one among two choices. The first one is relatively time consuming and involves your personal physician or practitioner. If you do not have a private doctor or for some motive your physician refuses to prescribe you an ESA, you possibly can very easily see for those who qualify for a letter by utilizing the shape to the best or clicking on the the inexperienced Free ESA Evaluation button. If you qualify, you could get your letter in lower than 24 hours. How Do You Get An Emotional Support Dog Letter
Emotional Support Dog For Sale
The emotional help animal letter must be written on the psychological health skilled's letterhead, embrace his or her license kind, date of license, license quantity, and the state which issued the license. Furthermore, it ought to have the date when it was written. A sample of the request letter may be considered on the official web site of Bazelon Middle for Psychological Well being Legislation, but there are different websites which have the same sort of samples which you will want. If you happen to need assistance, attain out to your therapist or a psychological health skilled. If you don't have one, the National Alliance on Psychological Illness presents ideas for find out how to find the proper therapist or doctor for you. The organization also provides help in finding someone in your space. This may be executed online or by calling 800-950-NAMI.
Canines and cats do not should be in a provider but they should be on a leash. The pet can sit on your lap throughout the flight. Federal regulation does not require Service Canine or Emotional Assist Animals to put on any type of clothing or harnesses. However, we strongly encourage this since harnesses, leashes, patches and figuring out items reduce down on the hassles and unnecessary explanations when in public. We have now found that these products drastically save time and frustration. Presently this space is a free-for-all, says Rebecca Johnson, director of the Analysis Middle for Human-Animal Interaction on the College of Missouri School of Veterinary Medication. She suggests this lack of regulation may finally damage those that actually need support animals to perform.
The Air Carrier Entry Act allows service animals and ESAs to accompany their handler in the cabin of an aircraft. The airline may require documentation stating that the person has a disability and the reason why the animal must travel with them. In case you intend to travel with an ESA, contact the airline forward of time to ensure you can provide the suitable paperwork. how do you get an emotional support dog letter About 18 p.c of American adults experience some type of psychological well being disorder. Overall, about four percent of American adults experience a extreme or debilitating mental health dysfunction. Because of this only a fraction of people that have a mental health disorder are certified for a psychiatric service canine.
How Do I Qualify For An Emotional Support Animal
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