crows use tools and like to slide down snowy hills. today we saw a goose with a hurt foot who was kept safe by his flock - before taking off, they waited for him to catch up. there are colors only butterflies see. reindeer are matriarchical. cows have best friends and 4 stomachs and like jazz music. i watched a video recently of an octopus making himself a door out of a coconut shell.
i am a little soft, okay. but sometimes i can't talk either. the world is like fractal light to me, and passes through my skin in tendrils. i feel certain small things like a catapult; i skirt around the big things and somehow arrive in crisis without ever realizing i'm in pain.
in 5th grade we read The Curious Incident of the Dog In The Night-time, which is about a young autistic boy. it is how they introduced us to empathy about neurotypes, which was well-timed: around 10 years old was when i started having my life fully ruined by symptoms. people started noticing.
i wonder if birds can tell if another bird is odd. like the phrase odd duck. i have to believe that all odd ducks are still very much loved by the other normal ducks. i have to believe that, or i will cry.
i remember my 5th grade teacher holding the curious incident up, dazzled by the language written by someone who is neurotypical. my teacher said: "sometimes i want to cut open their mind to know exactly how autistics are thinking. it's just so different! they must see the world so strangely!" later, at 22, in my education classes, we were taught to say a person with autism or a person on the spectrum or neurodivergent. i actually personally kind of like person-first language - it implies the other person is trying to protect me from myself. i know they had to teach themselves that pattern of speech, is all, and it shows they're at least trying. and i was a person first, even if i wasn't good at it.
plants learn information. they must encode data somehow, but where would they store it? when you cut open a sapling, you cannot find the how they think - if they "think" at all. they learn, but do not think. i want to paint that process - i think it would be mostly purple and blue.
the book was not about me, it was about a young boy. his life was patterned into a different set of categories. he did not cry about the tag on his shirt. i remember reading it and saying to myself: i am wrong, and broken, but it isn't in this way. something else is wrong with me instead. later, in that same person-first education class, my teacher would bring up the curious incident and mention that it is now widely panned as being inaccurate and stereotypical. she frowned and said we might not know how a person with autism thinks, but it is unlikely to be expressed in that way. this book was written with the best intentions by a special-ed teacher, but there's some debate as to if somebody who was on the spectrum would be even able to write something like this.
we might not understand it, but crows and ravens have developed their own language. this is also true of whales, dolphins, and many other species. i do not know how a crow thinks, but we do know they can problem solve. (is "thinking" equal to "problem solving"? or is "thinking" data processing? data management?) i do not know how my dog thinks, either, but we "talk" all the same - i know what he is asking for, even if he only asks once.
i am not a dolphin or reindeer or a dog in the nighttime, but i am an odd duck. in the ugly duckling, she grows up and comes home and is beautiful and finds her soulmate. all that ugliness she experienced lives in downy feathers inside of her, staining everything a muted grey. she is beautiful eventually, though, so she is loved. they do not want to cut her open to see how she thinks.
a while ago i got into an argument with a classmate about that weird sia music video about autism. my classmate said she thought it was good to raise awareness. i told her they should have just hired someone else to do it. she said it's not fair to an autistic person to expect them to be able to handle that kind of a thing.
today i saw a goose, and he was limping. i want to be loved like a flock loves a wounded creature: the phrase taken under a wing. which is to say i have always known i am not normal. desperate, mewling - i want to be loved beyond words.
loved beyond thinking.
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oh you know it's all latestage capitalism but the thing is. how are you supposed to be a person inside of this. a person trying to be a better version of yourself.
oh, you started working young, which was kind of hard, but it's just the way stuff works sometimes. and it was 2008 and your family couldn't afford heat. but it's fine, you grow a spine and get used to the professional world and besides it was the suburbs we're talking about here, like, your life could have been actually hard, so what if your father lost his job and you can't afford to move or turn the lights back on. and once you start making money, it's good. you keep doing that. because now they're relying on you. so you have to do that.
oh you were in thousands of dollars of debt at 17 years old so that you could go to school, because you have to go to school if you want to get a "real" job. you even did it "right", you worked parttime and attended community college before you transferred to a public school. you were under so many merit scholarships.
which is fine. you pick yourself up and you say like, okay. i graduated college. i'm holding down a job. i'm doing the Adult Thing, which looks and acts like this, according to all the books i've read. you start with the shitty job and then you climb that corporate ladder.
but the shitty job doesn't cover rent and you stretch yourself too-thin so you get sick. good luck with that. the shitty job no longer pays for your meals. everyone asks why you don't just move, but there's nowhere to move to. and with what money are you going to be moving? and then the loans come back, because they were never going to forgive them, because you were 17 and trying to do the right thing, which was stupid. people are now saying you shouldn't have even gone to school.
which is fine. but because you have no other option, so you do the shitty job, and you apply every day for like 5 new ones, and despite the fact everyone says "there's no one who wants to work!" it's actually just that nobody is fucking hiring so you can either work for 13 dollars an hour in the shitty place you know (where at least you have a passingly friendly relationship with the manager) or you can start from scratch again with a different 13 dollars an hour without knowing how much abuse from the new job you'll be taking.
and if you quit you lose your insurance. if you quit you lose your housing. if you quit, you'll be another burnout kid. the lazy ones. these assholes, look at them!
and you come home to a family dinner and you hear from your father the same old thing. how he worked hard at his job and yes it sucked for a while but he was able to provide for the family and then the house and the dog and the rest of barbie's dream vacation. how the insurance did cover some of it. how you just really need to start speaking up more in manager conversations so they know you're a go-getter. you want to tell him - did you know we're actually doing more now hourly than any previous generation? - but you can't remember where you heard that statistic, and you're far too tired for the fucking argument. and then he starts in on his usual bit. where's the house? where's your kids? where's your ambition.
the same job the same money the same hours doesn't do it anymore. the same nose-to-the-grindstone now just shreds your face off. there's no such thing as upwards mobility, not really. and as far as you're aware, the money certainly is not trickling. you do the soulless stupid shit you signed up for because you fucking have to or else you literally risk your life (food, the apartment, the insurance), but it's not getting you anything. you download the stupid "save more" app and you budget and you do every right thing and then the price of eggs is 7 dollars and you say - oh great! another thing i have to fucking worry about now!
and you go to your stupid job and everyone in your father's generation just tells you to be better about being an adult. they have their homes and their savings account and their bailout and they say. well have you tried not drinking starbucks. well your generation just spends too much on clothing. well you might just be too addicted to travelling. and you - because you need the job - you bite your tongue and don't say i am being held prisoner and you're suggesting i stop pacing my cell if i don't like the scenery and you don't say what the fuck do you think i've been doing with my money and you don't say i haven't spent a cent on something nice in literally forever much less coffee you arrogant asshole. you open and close your bank app and check your loans and check your credit score and check fucking zillow and ziprecruiter and apartments.com just one time more. and still they give you that demeaning little grin and say - see, what you need is -
what you need is for your meds to stop being so fucking expensive. what you need is for the housing bubble to explode into dust. what you need is for billionaires to choke on their wealth. what you need is actual help. what you will get is more economic advice from people who are older-and-wiser.
and above you, almost in a glimmer, you can see the wedged smile of your debt getting toothier, wider.
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Prioritise yourself (Thranduil x Reader)
author's note: happy easter to everyone who celebrates it and a happy weekend to all either way🪻this is honestly one of the most scary things i've posted because it's something so personal that i relate to a lot, but i thought maybe someone else might need it, too🥺 please always remember that nothing will ever be more important than your health and well-being 🩷
warnings: symptoms of burnout, lack of sleep, exhaustion, negative self-talk, skipping meals, mentions of food, nudity (for taking a bath together) - please please please let me know if I forgot something! 🩷
word count: 1.9k
edit is mine, all pics are from pinterest :)
It had seemed like a smart idea when you offered Thranduil to help him with all the paperwork.
His days were filled with meetings and more often than not he only returned to your chambers once it was dark already.
So, for the past few months, you had been - more or less secretly - helping him with whatever you could: sending out invitations to other royals, filing away documents, re-writing contracts so all that would be left to do was sign them.
You were the king's partner after all and you wanted to help him as much as possible. This was your kingdom, your home, as much as it was his, as he regularly reminded you.
Thranduil noticed, obviously. The hours in his study were reduced since most things were taken care of in a perfect way already - he could return to your private rooms right after dinner and spend time with you instead which the Elvenking appreciated immensely.
However, over the past few weeks, things have taken a turn. And Thranduil noticed that, too.
How, on some days, you would get up earlier than him, how you would skip lunch and dinner with him - although it was one of your favorite things since you got to spend it with one another during your otherwise busy schedules - and instead eat by yourself, hunched over some papers. He noticed your tired eyes and dull skin and- lack happiness, to cut it short.
Worry didn't even remotely describe what he was feeling. He felt sick to his stomach when he thought about you being unhappy.
Today was no different.
You had gotten up before sunrise, leaving your husband a little love letter, before entering your own study to take care of all official things.
There was a lot to do. Other elves as much as people from Laketown and even dwarves were sending letters, hoping to schedule a meeting with the king himself to talk over whatever was bothering them.
You made it your mission to answer every single one of them, noting down appointments and also sending out excuses if Thranduil wasn't the right one to talk to when it came to certain matters.
By the end of the day, your head was pounding. You let out a yawn and rubbed your eyes, hoping to relieve some of the pressure behind them, but to no use.
Closing them for only a minute wouldn't hurt. You could still look for your husband afterwards.
A line had been crossed for the Elvenking.
It was the second day in a row that you skipped your shared meals and from what he just learned, you weren't eating them at all.
He needed to talk to you. He wouldn’t - and couldn’t - let you destroy yourself over some work. Your happiness and well being came first and he would make you realise that, no matter the cost.
After reaching your study and receiving no answer to his knocks, he let himself in with determined steps, only to stop abruptly as soon as he saw your sleeping figure. His eyes softened immediately.
"Oh, meleth."
With two big steps, he was by your side, crouching down until he was on eye level with you. Even in your sleep, you looked stressed, your eyebrows scrunched up, reminding him of the times you woke up from a bad dream.
"What are you doing to yourself, hm?"
Gentle, as if you would break like glass if he touched you with too much force, he picked you up and carried you out of the room and into your shared bed chamber where he set you down on the soft mattress and covered you with a fluffy blanket.
Thranduil left the room again for only a few moments so he could blow out the candle in your study and put everything where it belonged. He himself hated to work at a messy desk and didn't want you to deal with the same thing once you would return to work, although he didn't want to think about that yet. For now, you needed rest and all the love and care you could get.
He returned to your bedroom after he spoke to some of his subordinates to let them know neither he nor you would be available in the next three days.
You were still fast asleep, curled up into the blanket. The king walked over to you and slowly began to remove all your uncomfortable clothing before he himself put on a night gown.
Only then did he lay down next to you, carefully maneuvering your body into his arms, your head on his chest. Even in your sleep you wrapped your arm around his waist and entangled your legs, letting out a small sigh.
"Sleep, meleth, you've been working too hard", your husband whispered and brought his delicate fingertips up to brush some hair out of your face before letting them trail down to your back, rubbing some calming circles into your shoulder. "I'll watch over you, I promise."
And Thranduil kept his word.
He stayed up to make sure you slept through the night, occasionally pressing a kiss to your temple or the top of your head while his fingers were always touching you in some way.
It was nearly lunch time when you woke up the next day.
After noticing you were still cuddled up with your husband although the sun was already shining into the room, you immediately sat up.
"I- I overslept, oh Varda, there is so much to do. Why didn’t you wake me, my love?"
With a gentle force, Thranduil pressed you back onto the mattress.
"You've been overworking yourself for weeks and your health and happiness are suffering in return. I told everyone we wouldn't be available for the next few days. For the foreseeable future, we'll only take care of you."
You didn't want to cry. And you tried really hard to keep the tears at bay, but when the Elvenking looked at you with so much love in his eyes, you couldn’t stop them.
"I'm sorry for failing you, my king."
The elf wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. "Oh meleth, no. No, you didn't fail me, you never have. And you never will."
"I can't even take care of myself", you hiccuped, burying your face in the crook of his neck. "It's like the work and the pressure never stop and I'll never be good enough and now I am sitting here, crying to you, a literal king who has way more responsibility than me. I am so sorry to burden you with this."
Thranduil's heart was breaking. He couldn't believe this was how you saw yourself when, to him, you were the most beautiful being in all of Middle Earth.
"You are never a burden to me. Do you hear me? Never. We can fix this. You have to learn how to prioritise yourself. I can teach you. I will teach you. And we will start right now. You must be hungry, what do you want to eat?"
You fumbled around with your hands before looking up at the Elvenking. "Could I have some pancakes?"
Thranduil leaned forward to press a kiss against your nose. "Whatever you want, meleth nîn."
With one swift motion, he got up, put on one of his majestic robes and made his way to the kitchen to order your beloved pancakes and some additional treats as well as some hot and cold beverages.
He returned to your chambers with a first tray of food, watching your face lit up with delight at the sweet smell.
"Here you go, my love. Eat as much as you want and take all the time you need. There are no other things that need to get done today or the next few days."
You nodded and grabbed a plate, happily munching on the food the servants were bringing in over time.
The king was watching you carefully while he himself ate something. It was more than obvious that all the food was good for your mind, body and soul.
You let yourself fall back against the sheets when you were done, letting out a satisfied sigh. "That was good."
"It is about to get better. What do you think of a bath?"
Your eyes lit up. "Right now?"
The elf couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle. "Is that what you want?"
You sat up, enthusiastically bouncing on the mattress and nodding your head. "Yes, please!"
Thranduil stood up again and walked into the bathroom, filling the tub with hot water and your favourite bath salts and flower petals before coming back to you.
With ease, he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you off the bed, carrying you into the bathroom.
"Arms up", he ordered gently and removed your clothing, doing the same to himself afterwards.
"You're so handsome", you breathed out as you softly pressed your hand against his chest, right above his heart. "I'm so lucky to have you."
Thranduil's heart started to beat faster under your touch and praise and you smiled, feeling butterflies in your stomach at the fact that you still had this effect on him.
He lifted you into the tub, setting you down and lowering himself behind you, pulling your body flush against his chest.
"I'm the lucky one."
You shook your head before letting it fall back against his shoulder. "You take care of me when I can't do it myself."
The king's deft fingers brushed through your hair, letting them trail down your arm. "We take care of each other. You are the one who decreased my work load so I'd have more time."
You intertwined your hands. "Well, of course. I want you to be well."
A kiss was pressed against the top of your head. "Do you see my point?"
You nodded. "I think I do."
Thranduil let his thumb brush over the back of your hand. "Tomorrow, we can take a walk in the garden and look at all the blossoming flowers. Or we can do whatever else will make you happy."
A smile graced your lips. "Just being with you makes me happy."
Gently, the ellon grabbed your chin and turned your head around so he could kiss you. You melted into his embrace, smiling against his lips.
"Gi melin", he whispered after you two had parted for air and you replied with the same sentiment.
Once you two had soaked in the water for a while, the Elvenking grabbed your shampoo and lathered up his hands before bringing them up to your scalp to work in the product.
The more time you spend like this with your husband - in your little bubble of happiness and safety - the lighter your heart felt.
And it only got better when Thranduil's hands wandered down your head to your neck and shoulders, massaging your tense muscles to help you relax even further.
You shuddered and the king grinned to himself. He was just as pleased as you were earlier that his touch could, still, make you weak in the knees.
"Rest, meleth", he whispered as he continued to work on your upper back. "There will be time to talk about long-term adjustments and solutions, but for now, you can let yourself fall. I'll be there to catch you."
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