#i finally remembered to take my adhd meds + instead of doing my work im doing this. i love having hyperfixations sm (<<< lies lies lies)

[sentientsky]

“Do you really think this is a good idea?” Nina asked. “The poor guy probably just wants his space.” 

The other woman turned to look at her from up on the staircase. Maggie pushed a lock of blonde hair back behind her ear. “I mean,” she began, one foot positioned on the next step up. “We already have this.” She raised a travel cup of espresso in the air. “And after all, I think he could use some cheering up. It’s been like two months, right?” 

Maggie sighed resignedly and followed her up the stairs. “Okay, if you say so…”

They walked for a couple moments before coming to a stop in front of an apartment. All the other doors on the floor were painted a pleasant blue, she noted. This one, however, was a deep, rich black. Of course. 

From underneath the door, the women could hear music, something familiar and with a steady beat. Maggie raised her hand and knocked. 

Still, the music played on. And still no one answered the door. 

“He’s obviously busy, Mags,” Nina muttered. It didn’t escape her notice that the other woman flushed pale pink at the sound of the nickname. Nina’s heart spasmed a bit in response, and she had to force herself to focus. 

“I just—let me try once more, and then—” Maggie knocked again. 

A beat. 

Nina was ready to ask if they could leave when the lock on the door clicked open of its own accord. Well, alrighty then. They exchanged a look, and then Nina pushed open the door. 

Immediately, the onslaught of angsty pop music poured through the threshold. Kelly Clarkson’s “Since U Been Gone,” Nina noted. She herself had played the same song more than once as a young adult, often in the throes of a breakup. 

The apartment itself was in complete disarray; papers and knickknacks strewn everywhere. Plants drooped sadly on the edges of the room. In the corner, a pile of CDs had been toppled over. Eccles cakes and half-chewed scones littered the floor. 

There, in the middle of the living room (which certainly looked lived in, Nina noted), Crowley was sat on the floor, legs all akimbo and arms thrown across the seat of a rather uncomfortable looking sofa. 

Maggie stiffened at the sight of him, holding the coffee cup between both hands now. The poor demon was dressed in boxer shorts and an ancient Queen t-shirt. His hair was bedraggled, brushing against his shoulders in loose scarlet waves. Juxtaposed to the devilishly cool “burnt out middle-aged rockstar” persona he embodied most  of the time, this new appearance came across as particularly disheveled. 

Nina hesitated, then took a step forward. The music still thrummed in her ears. “Crowley?” she asked, injecting as much kindness as she could into one little word. 

Head lolling, the demon looked up at the two women before him. For once, he wasn’t wearing his characteristic glasses. Maggie made a little sound of surprise at the sight of the demon’s golden snake eyes. They were a rich yellow—the same colour as Mr. Fell’s walls, Nina silently noted. It seemed Crowley hadn’t slept in a century, (did demons even need to sleep?) his undereyes tinged a pale purple. 

“Crowley?” Nina called out again. Maggie moved to stand beside her, leaning down closer to the demon’s level. 

Without warning, Crowley’s eyes began to flood with tears and he crumpled into himself. Oh. Oh no. They’d made it worse, they’d certainly made it worse. Nina had said that coming here was a bad idea. 

“That’s what Aziraphale used to call me!” he keened. His boxer shorts had ‘XO Gossip Girl’ emblazoned down the side. 

“I mean, that’s your na—” Nina began, but then reconsidered and dropped into a crouch to pat the demon’s shoulder, voice hushed and soothing. “There, there. I know. It’s going to be alright.” 

Maggie crouched beside her, and tried to offer Crowley the drink in her hand. He looked up for a moment, and there was a moment of recognition, his eyes scanning the takeaway cup. And then he burst into fresh tears once again. 

“That’s what I ordered the last—” he made a little hiccuping sound. “Ordered the last time he and I went to your café,” he wailed. The poor thing was inconsolable; Nina’s heart ached for him. In between ragged sobs, Crowley  extended his arm under the couch. There, it seemed, he had found a slightly droopy crepe that was…just shoved under the sofa. No plate, no nothing. Just crepe to floor. What the fuck. Don’t eat it, please don’t eat it, Nina chanted in her head. 

He ate it, of course, still crying. 

Kelly Clarkson finished singing, and the track switched. Now, a more upbeat tune rose through the apartment. 

It’s Britney, bitch. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen you eat anything—” Maggie began, reaching down to pick up a crumpled twinkie wrapper from the floor. And then, without warning, Crowley brought a napkin to his mouth and spat out a congealed mass of saliva and half-chewed dough. He sniffed pathetically and bundled it into a tight ball in his hand before tossing it somewhere across the room.

“Oh…” Maggie murmured, placing the wrapper back where she had found it. “Oh no.” 

Crowley looked up at the two of them with ragged eyes, glinting pale gold in the dim light of his flat. “Don’t even like the taste. But he likes ‘em, so…Who else is gonna eat’em, anyway? While he’s gone, you know? ‘S up to me” He sniffed again, wiping his nose with his sleeve. 

“Are you—” Maggie began, and her worried eyes flickered to Nina. “Are you drunk, Crow—Anthony? Have you been drinking?”

“And wha makes you think that?” he muttered. Nina cast her eyes around the room. Wine bottles littered the floor. The counters. One sat on the pedestal of a statue of an angel and a demon…were they supposed to be fighting, or…?? 

When she turned back to face him, he was drinking out of a curly straw. His cup read ‘MAMA NEEDS SOME WINE’. She sighed, and reached to ease it out of his hand. He pulled it out of her reach immediately, a disgruntled look clear across his face.

“Nooo, Az—Azira—a stupid angel gave this to me,” he all but hissed. “‘S vintage. 2004.”

The track changed again. Something slower, with a steady piano backing. 

My lover’s got humour.

She’s the giggle at a funeral…

At this, tears began to form afresh in the corners of the demon’s eyes. Nina stood up, looking for the source of the music. She’d had her fair share of sad music wallowing, but this was becoming unhealthy, surely. Over in the corner, a fairly recent sound system stood sentinel. She pressed ‘pause’ and ejected the disk. “What’s with this music?” she called across the room. 

In sloping handwriting, the CD read ‘bad bitches cry perpendicular to the floor’. Oookay then. 

“‘S a playlist I made. But everything I play in that godforsaken thing,” he motioned to the stereo system, “eventually turns into music by this one Irish fellow.” 

Nina wrinkled her brow in confusion. 

“Jus’ like the Bentley. But more straightforward, I suppose.” He took another sip from his drink, and the two women watched on as dark red liquid carried up through the loops of the straw.

“This isn’t healthy,” Maggie began. “I know it’s hard, and it’s okay to be sad. But we can try baby steps, right? D’you fancy coming down to the café with us? Maybe sit and talk for a bit? Get some natural light?” 

Crowley scrunched his nose and spat a piece of red hair out of his mouth. “M’ fine, really. Never been better. More independent, less—” he waved his free hand around vaguely, “mmgh…yeah, I got nothin’” He toasted them with his ridiculous white suburban mom cup. 

“You’re crying right now. And how long have you been wearing that shirt?” Nina asked. The thing looked lived in. By a family of possums. 

He looked down, squinting at wine stains that speckled the collar. “This is my best shirt.” He looked back up at them. “And ‘m fiiiine.” He reached one gangly arm across the length of the sofa and pulled out a pair of circular sunglasses. Putting them on, he peered up at Nina and Maggie. “See? Can’t even see the tears.” He smiled, but it looked more like a grimace. 

“Oh, hon. That’s not…” Maggie began.

“I don’t think that’s how that works,” Nina murmured. “Do you…” she looked around the room. Was that one of Mr. Fell’s sweaters hung over a chair? What had happened in that fucking bookshop? “Do you want to talk about it?” she finished. 

Three hours later, Nina realized her assistant’s shift was nearly finished. From what she understood, Mr. Fell had left (his husband? Boyfriend? Wife? Immortal life partner?) Crowley for a business promotion somewhere far away. Crowley, for his part, was perched on the edge of the couch, wrapped up in the angel’s sweater. He sniffled, and pressed on: 

“...And then it was 1967 and I was in my Beatles phase of course, because who wasn’t, honestly. And the bastard shows up in my car out of nowhere with a thermos. So I’m freaking out a little bit—in a very cool, suave kind of way, of course—cause this is one of the first times we’ve seen each other since the magic show,” he turned, looking between Maggie and Nina. “I told you about the magic show, yes?”

“Yes, you did,” Maggie muttered. 

“Several times. The one where he told you to shoot him in the face,” Nina interjected.

“Well,” he waved his hand around. “I didn’t actually shoot him. Scared the fuck outta me, but—oh, I still have the photograph, you wanna see?” He moved to stand up then. 

Maggie motioned for him to sit back down. “That’s alright. We’ll see it later—”

And he was off again, “So anyway it was 1967 and he’s in my car and he’s got a thermos and I’m all like ‘Are we gonna drink soup together? Is that tea? Cocoa?’ but noooo, he gives it to me and it’s fucking holy water. And he tells me he doesn’t want me risking myself. And—” his voice grew louder, more emphatic, “And he says ‘don’t go unscrewing the cap’. And by this point my stomach’s all in wobbly-wibbly fluttery knots and ‘m asking myself ‘what the bloody hell are we’ and I hate it ‘cause I’m a demon, right? And angels aren’t supposed to make you feel all—” he made a ‘pbttt’ sound and mimed a butterfly with his hands. Nina and Maggie exchanged a look. “Yeah. And then he says we should go on a picnic someday. Or to the Ritz or something. I’m losing my mind at this point, because is he asking me on a date? ‘M I out of my gourd? So, like any normal, reasonable person, I say I’ll drive him wherever he wants because then that means more time together which means more time to figure out this fluttery feeling or whatever. And guess what he says.” He looked at the two women seated on chairs in front of him.  “Go on, guess.” 

Maggie shrugged. “Sorry, no idea.” Nina shook her head.

“He says,” he leant forward on the couch. “He says ‘You go too fast for me, Crowley.” The poor demon let out an anguished groan and his head fell into his hands. Maggie reached forward to pat him on the shoulder. 

[It went on like this for some time. They eventually got him to go to the park where he inadvertently began a duck cult; that is, a cult whose members consisted solely of ducks. Not a cult of humans dedicated to worshipping ducks. That would be stupid.]

this silly little crack fic is brought to you by me and my good omens brainrot (neil im in your walls). if u want to read my more serious stuff, you can find me furiously scribbling away in this corner of the internet: x

(side note: this particular story was inspired by a hilarious post from @miss-americanbi)

#i wrote this pretty quickly so its not gonna be great but whatver #i finally remembered to take my adhd meds + instead of doing my work im doing this. i love having hyperfixations sm (<<< lies lies lies) #im love nina shes so pretty and cool #full disclosure this is not to glamourize or make light of depression #this is literally just me transcribing the aftermath of my own messy queer breakup #i also dyed my hair w/ horrible box dye :) that was like 2 yrs ago and it STILL hasnt faded. demipermanent my ass #i was a fucking mess for like a year :) #good omens #ineffable husbands #good omens 2 #aziracrow #ineffable lovers #aziraphale #crowley #go2 #ineffable wives #azicrow #maggie good omens #nina good omens #crack fic #ao3 good omens #ao3 author #good omens crack #good omens fanfic #neil gaiman #david tennant #michael sheen #gay #queer #gomens

[shiny-miltank]

why hello old friends, you’ve found me once again (it wasn’t a secret really lol). to start off myello. sorry for disappearing off the Mewcrew blog. It gets all kinda wordy so it’s under a readmore.

Long story short I suffered from a mental Illinois(tm) spiral of depression, work exhaustion, undiagnosed/untreated adhd and big time imposter syndrome + burnout. Zoom into today I’ve been in therapy for my big time sads with some new perspectives and management, got some adhd meds, my job quit on me (long story) so now I’m slinging it freelance artist style and seeing how it goes, and back with family cause living alone was expensive and very Not Good for my brain it turned out. Still working on new changes and learning about the anxious smorgasbord up in the head.

Now there’s still no guarantee? That Mewcrew stuff is going to come back in full force like it did. Im still trying to like it again cause I do miss them. It took a long time and effort just to draw them for the wips I got going in the bg after like the three years leaving. Tbh the blog became something I didn’t want and instead of casual, low effort, funny not serious Just Roomates on misadventures in a pink void comic it became long hours of planning and plotting and rendering and feeling it wasn’t enough with my nasty soup of brain ick continuing to make me feel bad for not keeping up with a constant pace and comparing my work to the artists around me (again it was my brain funguses making reality hard-no one else. The artists around me back then were legit the nicest peeps around-still are). I’m also still really nervous and anxious around big communities that seemed to have sprung up HELLO ALL OF YOU LOL. I remember when it was just three of us xD And I still have to sit with my imposter syndrome and understanding I have things to offer that people do want to see and to stop anxieties from comparing my work to others.

So for now if I am posting Mewcrew stuff it’s mostly going to be here on my main from now on and not an individual blog (me figuring it’s just a lot of effort to keep up with so many blogs and logins, I think any new project or direction I go is just gonna be slapped on my main from now on. The less effort the better for my energy.). It’ll be sporadic and in a much different direction that was more akin to what I wanted it to be and much more casual comedy (or my flat sense of humor-I’ll laugh at knock knock jokes fr) slice of life with very little, even parody “plot”. And most of it until im comfortable with releasing complete mewcrew/mewtwo content will be on my patreon with again spurts of it here on tumblr and on my other socials. And if any of you come into my inbox saying I’m paywalling my own content AGAIN I will come for your kneecaps no joke you are NOT entitled to my work ESPECIALLY when this is now my main form of income. Anything on my patreon is /extra/ and early works and for peeps who choose to/want to and or capable of supporting me. That was literally the final straw that made me take a step out way back then: there’s still somebody behind the screen please remember that. This is just for my anxieties and getting comfortable with my characters again at a slow pace👍 I do miss everyone I use to interact with and want to be part of the bigger community here that’s sprouted up. Just gotta walk slowly with my social anxiety and other things first.

Thanks for reading and choosing to stick around if you do!

#lechetxt #lots of brain soup problems here #but hello again pals 👋 it’s been awhile! #and hello to new folks 👍

[xxmoonch1ldxx]

hellooo, ive read through ur fics and they are beautiful and i humbly provide a prompt 4 u; Anthony stimming in front of Ian. thats it that the prompt. since their reunion, Anthony has finally felt comfortable enough to stim in front of Ian when he wants to without shame or sum idk im autistic and love projecting onto my favourite content creators

Hey Anon, finally getting back to you after a milennial. I'm sorry for the wait! I got you, I too am autistic and love projecting so here we go :)

Anthony had always held himself to some pretty stupid standards.

When he was younger, he believed he needed to always put socks the same color or people would definitely notice and laugh at him. As he grew older, it became about straightening his hair, not only for the emo style but mainly because he was ashamed of his curls and thought he would get mocked for them. Mainly, though, he battled with his, for a long time undiagnosed but very obvious, ADHD and everything that came along with it.

The shame he felt at his own behavior started pretty young, when he used to simply stay mute instead of allowing himself to talk to people in kindergarten. He knew he had a loud voice and an even louder laugh, one that his mom always told him to quiet down. Even though she was never mean about it, Anthony had ended up taking it more personal than he should have. Sadly, though, it didn't get easier; there were so many assignments he failed because he hadn't been able to focus and was to ashamed to ask for help from anyone, lest they tell him to get his head out of his ass and listen.

Anthony tried, he did, but that never quite worked.

It didn't quite work like a lot of things did, but one person he did let into his life and his odd behavior was Ian. Ian never whined when he laughed too loud, Ian never minded how he jumped subjects of conversations and Ian always helped him in the classes he failed to understand due to having lost focus. Anthony had always been so, so grateful for that, but there was still one thing he had struggled with.

Stimming. Anthony had a lot of small habits that he always suppressed, mostly in fear he would get judged. Even with how much he loved Ian, he always feared he would disrupt the younger man with those repetitive behaviors. He also remembered a few times where he had been unable to help the thrumming of his fingers as he worked, the stress of his later years at Smosh taking a toll on him and making him unable to stay still even more than usual; Ian used to turn around and ask him to stop in this irritated voice. Not mean, once again, but it hit the nail in the coffin.

He was disturbing people in a way he shouldn't be, or at least, that's what he thought.

And then, after a few years of therapy, an official diagnosis, getting on meds and finally unloading all of this trauma, Anthony and Ian had reunited.

The core of the relationship, their comedic chemistry and the ease they had once felt around each other came back, even stronger than it had been before. Anthony had never been more grateful for something in his life; or maybe he had, but only about the fact he and Ian were now an official thing. A couple. Boyfriends.

They had learned how to live around each other again, speak out what bothered them and be honest. Issues were solved way faster today, and way easier too. Working was comfortable, funny, fulfilling in the same way it had been back when they started Smosh. Hanging out was, too, and they now found comfort and pleasure in the mere act of being together, opposite to the later years of their friendship when they barely spent any time together outside of work. For that, Anthony was fully grateful too; it sure was fun that being together now included more things like kisses, hugs and more...Physical activities. Anthony loved those improvements.

Ian and him now were together more often than not, and there was an ease about it that had never been there before. Sometimes, they didn't even do much; Ian would be watching yet another history video and Anthony would be laying with his head on his boyfriend's lap, working on his new interview. He cherished those small moments, especially the few instances when Ian would interrupt him for a bit just to press a fond and loving kiss on his lips. It was lovely, it filled Anthony's heart in a way nothing else ever had.

One of the things he cherished the most, though, was how earnest they had both been with each other. Vyvanse pills might work for focus and other symptoms of ADHD, but the stimming part couldn't be erased from him. Happily, though, Anthony didn't feel the need to hide himself anymore.

When they were in the office, he would sometimes be playing with everything that fell under his hands. The little holder of his phone, the pencil he was holding, his rings that he wore; it was a thing that greatly helped him focusing when they were brainstorming. Instead of whining like he had sometimes used to, Ian would always look at him fondly, with a smile that screamed 'I knew this would happen', but would never interrupt him. He had even started bringing a few of those little water toys that could be squished for Anthony to press on as he talked. He had brought one in the shape of a black cat, because he said it reminded him of Anthony. He was blushing as he said it, but Anthony had thought it was so cute he had kissed Ian on the mouth hard enough to bruise his lips.

Then, there was the way he often hummed as he did things. Really, anything; it would also help him focus and he didn't even notice it at time. Ian would sometimes join him in his low singing when he did the dishes or even worked on some scripts, a smile on his lips. Neither he or Ian were particularly great singers, but they always ended up laughing so hard they cried or just having a sweet, domestic moment.

Ian had also brought a few rocking chairs inside the office, decision that had been questioned but Anthony was forever grateful. It was easier and grounding to rock on a chair that was made for it, a habit Ian had probably noticed and remembered from their time at school and how Anthony couldn't keep himself still on a chair for two seconds. Ian always scolded him when he brought his chair on two legs, telling he might fall and to stop; this was something else that Anthony cherished about him. How protective he had always been, how much he cared.

Most of the time, Anthony thrummed his legs endlessly. This habit put a strain on his muscles, something Ian knew, so he would lean in to place a hand on his thigh, remind him to calm down. Ian would rub the skin and pat it simply before retrieving his hand, knowing Anthony didn't even notice what he was doing. There was also how he would reach out to tug at Anthony's arm when he either bit his nails too much or scratch at his skin until it would become red. Sure, there were days Ian wasn't there to do so and Anthony would end up breaking his skin open, but his boyfriend would always be there once he came back home to rub the skin with lotion and kiss the scar, achingly soft and tender. Anthony didn't think he could love him more, but Ian always outdid himself. He once bought gums and straws just for Anthony to chew on when he needed to.

Even with his weirder habits, Ian didn't judge. He didn't judge when Anthony cleared his throat too much or repeated random words or sentences. He didn't judge when he would flap his hands and move them a little too much as he talked. He didn't mind when Anthony would get excited and jump a little too much, or he would get all over the place. Instead, he seemed to find it very amusing and so, so adorable. Just like he cherished the little tunes Anthony whistled when he was particularly engrossed into something.

All those little things that Anthony had spent years hiding and taming down, all the habits he had taken that included hurting himself and then dealing with the consequences himself, he didn't have to face them alone. Ian would always be there to ease the ache in his muscles after he pulled at them too much by how much he moved, or to cream his red and sore skin, massage his jaw when he had chattered his teeth too much. Anthony treasured all of those actions, how much care Ian had towards him and how he showed him all the time. It was a little wild to find someone who finally didn't mind all those things about him, and especially someone who even cherished a few of those habits. Anthony would see it in the fond smile stretched on Ian's face when he stared at him, just like he hung the moon, when he was just whistling while doing the dishes. He would feel it in the way Ian kissed him softly when he would sing, how he wouldn't even note the flapping of his hands and simply lean over to brush a strand of hair away from his face.

Anthony felt comfortable to be fully himself in a way he had never had before. He knew and could feel the way Ian loved every little thing about him, from the way he smiled so softly to the way he catered to his every needs, even when Anthony ignored he had them.

Anthony simply cherished Ian himself, fully and wholly. He had never been more grateful of something than the fact Ian felt the same.

#smosh #anthony padilla #ian hecox #ianthony #🔎☀️ #smosh fanfiction #heres me projecting as an audhd boi

[notcolleen]

[[MORE]]

i hate that bc i inherently see myself as a bad/manipulative person bc everything i do is colored with that view and it sucks lol

like i saw my doctor for the first time in 47271 years the other day and he started me back on the lowest possible dose of my adhd medication

but i automatically felt like i was drug seeking and felt like i had to overcompensate in my explanation to him even though

1) ive been diagnosed since middle school ((literally seeing him since middle school))

2) he is honestly very lax with prescriptions and would have gone right to my old prescriptions so

3) i was the one that had to be like “full disclosure: i am struggling to be productive/focus on anything but i am also aware that i have a history of relapse on these meds so can we please brainstorm what would work for both my eating disorder recovery and my own sanity??” and this was the solution (the other solution being a medication that i have tried in the past with unbearable side effects) (see, im even justifying it now to myself and to my 2 followers bc i still feel like a Bad person!! bc adult adhd has become such a Thing and combining that with eating disorder recovery feels like im breaking one of the golden rules lol) (like if i see someone else post abt adhd meds and i know they are also in recovery, part of me still goes 👀 and i hate that i have that internalized stigma towards the diagnosis/treatment) (i think i honestly just have a lot of shame toward the amount of medication it takes me to function but i am working on it)

but anyway i started back yesterday and already the difference is ‼️⚠️‼️ and my brain finally feels quiet? and today i sat and finished the book ive been trying to read for the last week and actually cleaned my bathroom

and the main thing i noticed is that my thoughts can finally go in a more logically order? like instead of going to make coffee…..realizing that i need to bring the creamer over to my coffee but then getting distracted when i see dishes in the sink so doing those…..forgetting the creamer but remembering to clean phoebes litter…remember the coffee but not realizing i actually put the creamer next to phoebes litter box so convincing myself im insane looking for it, start looking in all of the rooms in my apartment and get distracted by hanging my clothes and totally forget my coffee until i feel like caffeine headache and wonder why ? (definitely not based on a true series of events from this week 👁👄👁)

instead i am able to think: okay, you need to get the coffee ready which means water in the machine first, put creamer in mug while it heats up! you can clean phoebes litter box while it pours! okay cool do a couple of the dishes in the sink while it cools down! now sit and drink coffee and breathe 🙏🙏🙏🙏

and that feels really really wonderful goodbye🕺

#i still feel like a bad person but at least i can get things done #🧚‍♂️

[rolandtowen]

three times Zuko comes into the Jasmine Dragon coffee shop, and one time Sokka leaves with him. Set in the Neurodiverse Zukka AU, but can read as a standalone.

*banging pots and pans together* "Come over here and get yall Neurodiverse Zukka!"

Read it on Ao3 or under the cut!

TW: discussions of skin picking and implied child abuse

i.

When Sokka pulls into the parking lot of the Jasmine Dragon, he is unsurprisingly the first car there. Being a freshman in town means getting the worst pick of shifts at local businesses. Sokka was hired on to work the opening shift, which means he wakes up at the ungodly hour of 5am to open the shop before the first round of sleep-deprived college students comes in. The pay isn't bad, Mr. Iroh is an incredibly fair man,

The bell on the door jingles on his way in, and he flips several light switches on, watching as the coffee shop slowly comes to life. He busies himself with getting the beans for the day grinding, pulling his first shot and dialing in the expresso. When he takes a sip, the espresso is spot on for the day, which is a relief. Having to make adjustments as customers start filing in is a nightmare.

Today's brew is floral and citrusy, so he decides to make himself and iced lavender latte - with oat milk, of course, because he's gotta do it for the gays - and he spends the next 20 minutes setting out pastries and fiddling with the display cases, making everything look perfect.

At 6am sharp, Sokka unlocks the front door and flips their sign to open, before retreating behind the bar to nurse his latte. Not even five minutes later, the door bell jingles, and Sokka sees a flash of dark hair, face obscured by a pile of textbooks and binders. The figure runs into one table, and then another, and Sokka is rushing out from behind the counter. He gets there just before textbooks go toppling everywhere, his hands taking a firm hold of the top bundle. As he pulls the books into his arms, he sees the face behind them.

Breathtaking golden eyes.

And.. a massive burn scar.

"Hi!" Sokka says, "I'm the barista on shift today - my name's Sokka." He would reach his hand for the other man to shake, but for the stack of textbooks in them.

Golden Eyes smiles.

"I'm Zuko, Zuko Sozin," he says, setting his remaining textbooks on the table by his side. Sokka follows suit.

"Hey, I think I've seen you before - are you taking Piandao's Intro to Biology class?"

"Uh, yeah - yeah! You sit a few rows in front of me." Zuko laughs. "Your doodles are uh, something alright."

Sokka knocks him good-naturedly on the shoulder. "I gotta keep my hands busy for my brain to focus." He looks down at the stack of books on the table. "What on earth are you studying, to have that many books?"

"Uh, Biology and Chemistry double-major, Pre-Med track." Sokka's eyes widen. "It's really not that much! I got a bunch of stuff out of the way with AP credits."

Sokka raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, it is a lot - but I'm really passionate about it. I want to be a doctor."

"Well, Dr. Sozin, what can I get started for you today?"

"Can I get a iced matcha, with a lot of honey?"

Sokka raises his other eyebrow. "A doctor with a sweet tooth?"

"Kind of?"

"Don't worry, I won't rat you out to your dentist. An iced matcha with extra honey?" Zuko nods and Sokka smiles. "You got it, doc."

ii.

Sokka falls into a routine at the Jasmine Dragon. He opens the shop every morning, and every morning of the fall semester so far, Zuko Sozin comes in at precisely 6:05am. Zuko will order an iced matcha with honey, and sits at a table by the window with his laptop and at least two textbooks open at all times. Then, at 11:50am - Sokka guess he has a class that starts at noon - Zuko leaves the shop, always making sure to throw his spare change into Sokka's tip jar.

He's so beautiful.

On a slow day, Sokka comes out from behind the safety of the counter and works up the courage to ask Zuko if he can study with him. Zuko looks shocked at first, but his lips quirk up in a smile as he gestures for Sokka to sit in the chair across from him, moving his textbooks to make room for Sokka's one book and laptop.

"What are you studying, Sokka?" Zuko appears to be genuinely interested.

"Oh, uh, social work, with a concentration in mental health." Sokka waits for Zuko to laugh at him. It never comes. He looks up at him over their laptops.

"That's really cool."

"You think so?"

"Yeah! I mean, some pre-med majors can be really pretentious, really dismissive of mental illness, but um - not me. I don't really have that luxury." Zuko laughs, as though at a joke with himself. "What's the Intro to Biology for, then?"

"Not all of us got our common core out of the way with AP credits, like some nerd I know." Zuko smiles at that, and looks back down at his laptop screen.

Sokka pulls his keys from his pocket and starts fidgeting with the stim toy he keeps on his keychain as he reads through his latest assignment for his Mental Illness and Society class. He bought it on Etsy, relieved to find a neurodivergent-owned shop after scrolling through a lot of stores that just seemed to be hopping on the 'trend' of selling fidget toys. He flips to the next page in his textbook, popping the buttons back and forth in a steady rhythm. He remembers Zuko's sitting across from him and stops abruptly.

"Is this annoying? Do you want me to stop?"

Zuko just cocks his head. "Why would I get a say in what you do? It's kind of your shop, right?"

"Um, to be polite?" Sokka laughs. "And you would be surprised how many customers I get who think they get to tell me what to do." His eyes settle on the half drunk latte in front of him. "It's not really my shop either, I just work the early morning shifts so Mr. Iroh can sleep in. If you ever get to stay past noon sometime, you'll see him come in. You can't miss him, short guy, talks in riddles. He's older, a war vet I think - I just get that impression from some of the stories he tells me. But anyway, did you want me to stop fidgeting?" Sokka looks back up to meet those golden eyes.

Zuko glitches for a second. "Oh! No, no, go for it - if it helps you to study, I'm all for it."

Sokka smiles, and looking at the way Zuko keeps picking at his cuticles gives him an idea. He digs into his backpack and pulls out another stim toy, an acupressure ring. ""Do you want to try this instead of maiming your hands?"

Zuko hesitantly holds out a hand and Sokka drops it into his palm. "You don't have to."

Sokka scoffs. "I know I don't have to - I want to. Come on, I wear it on my thumb sometimes -" and suddenly he's taking Zuko's hands into his and getting very close to Zuko's face. Zuko can smell espresso on his clothes and Sokka's hands are so warm against his. Calloused, sure, but warm. He holds Zuko's right hand gently, pressing the spiky ring onto his thumb. "And you can rub it back and forth with your pointer finger and it gives you that kind of prickly sensation that you get from skin picking, just without the skin picking." Sokka pulls his hands away and Zuko immediately misses them. "Give it a shot, tell me what you think."

Zuko tentatively rolls the ring over his thumb. Huh. The cute barista's right, the acupressure gives him that same prickly, scratchy feeling that picking at his nails and cuticles does. "Wow," he says, "I think you've converted me."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Then keep it, I've got a thousand more where that came from, ADHD perks."

Zuko instinctively opens his mouth to protest but the words die in his throat.

"You, you have ADHD?" He stops rolling the ring across his thumb.

"Yup." Sokka's lips popped on the 'p', and he turned to the next page in his textbook. "And I'm pretty sure you've got some spicy stuff happening your brain, too. But you don't have to tell me."

"How are you so open about it?"

Sokka's hand stills around the fidget. "My parents never treated me like I was deficient in any way - my brain just works differently, which means I have trouble with some 'normal' stuff. But I also strengths in areas that others don't have naturally. Accommodations aren't anything to be ashamed of."

"Sounds nice." All of the levity drops out of Zuko's voice.

Sokka levels a look at Zuko. He lets his eyes flit to the right side of Zuko's face and the scar there. He's seen it so many times, and the burns look so concentrated, almost... intentional. His stomach churns at the thought. The scar's old... and Zuko's at college now, he has to be safe - he has to be.

"Like I said, you don't have to tell me." Sokka's hand starts to fidget with the buttons again. "But I have it on good authority that I am a good listener."

"I'll... I'll keep that in mind." Zuko looks down at his hands, fingers rolling the ring back and forth against his thumb. "Thank you."

"Anytime, doc."

iii.

Somehow, fumbling through their collective social awkwardness, they manage to swap numbers.

At the end of the fall semester, Sokka texts Zuko for the first time.

S: hey, im gonna be a few minutes later. don't worry, im still coming.

Z: okay. thank you.

When Sokka finally pulls into the parking lot fifteen minutes late, he sees Zuko waiting outside the door, sitting on a bench, head buried in one of his chemistry textbooks.

"Hey," he puts his keys in the door. "You can just come in while I open, it won't take too long."

Zuko follows him inside, and he closes the door against the chill.

"You didn't have to text me," Zuko says, like it's a question.

"I wanted to," Sokka starts flipping on light switches. "I know you've got your routine, and I didn't want to stress you out when it got messed up."

"Why would that matter to you?"

"Um, I don't want you to be stressed? I kind of care about you."

"You... you care about me?" Zuko stands in the middle of the coffee shop, unmoving.

Sokka smiles. "Yeah, I think I do."

"Why?"

"I think we could be friends?"

"Oh." Zuko's face falls for a second - what Sokka has come to understand is his 'processing' face - and he looks back up a second later. "I think we could be friends too."

"Friendship with a barista has great perks, you know." Sokka laughs as he starts up the grinder. "Although the perks of a social worker friend aren't too bad either."

"How's that going? With your first semester ending?" Zuko sits on a stool at the bar and watches Sokka putter around behind it.

"Well, I'm going to pass Intro to Biology, not for lack of trying on Piandao's part - I swear he's trying to weed out all the humanities kids. It isn't even a weed out course!" He polishes an espresso glass furiously. "How are you doing?"

Zuko chokes. "Oh, I'm - I'm fine, you know it's a hard class and all -"

"You're getting an A, aren't you?" Sokka squints at him from behind a bag of coffee beans. "Curve breaker," he scoffs.

"Hey, it's not my fault that I'm, what did you call it? A 'burnt-out gifted kid with people pleasing tendencies'." Zuko crosses his arms and huffs at the memory of that conversation. Sokka had read him like a picture book. And it was not fair for one person to be that good at emotions.

"You are correct, I did indeed call you that." Sokka pulls the first shot of the morning. "And it looks like I was right."

"You know what you said the other week, about being a good listener?"

"Sure do," Sokka takes a sip of the espresso, swishing it around in his mouth before spitting it out. "What's on your mind?"

"Well, if we're going to be... friends, I just think you'd want to know that - I'm autistic." Zuko stares at Sokka searching his face for any cues about what the next words out of his mouth will be, waiting for the facade of friendship to drop. He furiously rolls the acupressure ring up and down his thumb.

"Okay, that's great!"

"...what."

Zuko's hands freeze and he squeezes the ring against his skin, feeling the pressure increase.

"That's great, I'm glad you felt safe enough to tell me that. I kind of guessed your parents weren't as accommodating as mine?"

Zuko laughs something sour. "No, no they were not." He looks up in surprise as Sokka puts an iced matcha, extra honey, in front of him. "You're right though, I do feel safe here. I feel safe with you." Zuko looks down at the acupressure ring on his thumb, softening his grip. "You could have totally ignored me, but you didn't. Or you could've been mean about my quirks - but you weren't. Why?"

"Well, for starters, you tip well." Sokka smiles and leans across the counter, bracketing Zuko's elbows in with his own. "But you're also a really great guy - you're passionate, you want to make people's lives better, and you're also like, really beautiful."

Zuko feels his cheeks flush. "You really think that?" His fingers still against the fidget again, but he doesn't feel the need to press it into his skin. He's captivated by Sokka's words. Surely, Sokka couldn't actually mean -

"Oh, yeah. Every bit." Sokka brushes his hand against one of Zuko's, the one with the fidget ring. "Can I hold your hand?"

"Yes, please, yes." After weeks, Sokka's hand is back in his, and Zuko thinks he's going to implode. "Can, can you hold both of my hands? With both of your hands?"

"Of course," Sokka's positively beaming, grabbing Zuko's hands and running his thumbs across his knuckles. "Now you're absolutely allowed to say no to my next question, and there are no hard feelings."

"Yes?"

"Can I kiss you?"

"Fuck yes."

The iced matcha is forgotten.

+ i

Sokka's feet hurt like hell. Mr. Iroh had called in him to work a double on Friday, and since he doesn't have any classes on Fridays, he foolishly agreed.

It won't seem so foolish once you see the paycheck, he reminds himself. He and Zuko have a deal. Zuko pays for his medical school with his job shelving books at the University library, and Sokka pays for their tiny apartment by caffeinating all of the other broke college kids in town. By some miracle, they seem to be able to make it work. Zuko graduated into the medical college a year early, which helps with tuition costs, and of course his brilliant boyfriend got all kinds of scholarships.

Sokka is indescribably proud of him.

The door bell jangles just as Sokka is wiping the crumbs off the last cafe table. "Hey, we're starting to close up for the night, so it'd better be a to-go order," he calls over his shoulder.

"Even for me?"

"Zuko!" Sokka drops his cloth immediately and spins around, pulling Zuko into a hug. Zuko taps the small of his back when he's ready to let go, and Sokka lets him go, beaming. "You came to visit me at work?"

"More like I picked up your favorite soup dumplings from Haru's across the street and thought we could walk home together?" Zuko shrugs, gesturing to the brown paper bag in his arms. "How's that sound to you?"

"Baby, that's just what I needed today." Sokka picks up his cleaning supplies. "Okay, I just need to put all of this away and then we can lock up and go home, how's that?"

"Great," Zuko smiles at him. "I may have also picked up some more Doctor Who DVDs from the library," he smirks.

"Oh, you trickster!" Sokka yells from the kitchen, before appearing again. "You used my one weakness, pork soup dumplings, against me in order to get your nerdy way."

"Oh, big talk coming from the guy who watches astronomy documentaries for fun," Zuko laughs as Sokka leads him out of the shop, switching off the lights and locking the door behind him. "If it were up to you, we'd be watching Cosmos all weekend, and I can only take so much of Neil deGrasse Tyson explaining the peculiarities of the moon."

"Hey, the moon is cool!"

"You are correct, the moon is very cool. It's freezing, because it's a rock. In space. With no atmosphere. Or life." Zuko deadpans, earning a light punch on the shoulder from Sokka.

"Fine, you get Doctor Who tonight, but Saturday is going to be all PBS Nova, baby. Brace yourself." Sokka takes Zuko's free hand into his as they start the walk home.

"Well, as long as you're there, I'm happy."

Notes:

fidgets in this work were inspired by those from shop StimBox

#neurodiverse au #neurodiverse zukka #neurodivergent zukka #autistic zuko #adhd sokka #coffee shop #modern au #college au #med school au #bisexual sokka #asexual zuko #gay zuko #zukka #first kiss #zuko is an awkward turtleduck #pre relationship #developing relationship #sokka is a nerd #zuko is also a nerd #touch starved zuko #stim toys #fidget toys #fluff #romantic fluff #how many tags can char fit on a post #rolandtowen #my fic #atla #avatar #the last airbender

[februaryberries]

Study (?) tips that you don’t see on every study post

Hi gamers, I just finished my first year at college/university!!

This year was really a struggle for me because I was trying to get the help I needed for my mental health, and I did not succeed until literally the week before finals spring term. I just got diagnosed w ADHD and put on meds (thank god) and I’m excited for the next year to come.

Though this year was absolutely grueling I did discover some little tips that can really help ! This is coming from my experience w ADHD but it could relate to other neurodiverse learners as well ! Even if you are neurotypical some of these might help !! 

This post got really long so I’m gonna put it under the cut but, main Idea is bolded w a more in depth explanation underneath ( for those like me who see a block of text and go running)

In no particular order:

If you can/are up for it take a class before noon even if you are not a morning person. I am NOT saying take an 8am when u regularly go to bed at 4am! Bc that is dumb bb pls get some sleep. In my experience once I go to class my brain is like “oh things are happening now, it is actually a day and not just existing in a timeless hellscape.”

Once I am out of bed/out of my room I am at least mildly more productive for the rest of the day. Going to a class before noon means you are up and doing things for the day and early enough that you still have light. This ties into the next one

Start while it’s still light out!! At least for me I gain so much happiness from natural light/sunlight, and it is very hard for me to do things let alone START things once it’s dark out because my brain is like nope the day is over now. Plus in the fall/winter days days are getting shorter and shorter so it’s important to make use of as much daylight as you can. I feel like a plant w how much I rely on light to survive but it really does help! 

Put on ‘Real People’ clothes. This is something that really helps me, even if it’s just like, jeans and a turtleneck, maybe tucked in w a belt. I’ve found that when I put on academic-y clothes or like Adult clothes it helps me switch my brain into school mode. It’s kinda like putting on a uniform for work? If I’m in too loose of clothes or like pyjamas for example, I’m much less likely to be able to switch my brain into productive mode. For me especially its when i’m wearing tighter clothing rather than baggy ones? Like i said a turtleneck which like the sleeves are fitted to my arms, and jeans or pants that are fitted to my legs. I think it helps because it makes me more aware of my body in the space? Idk.  figure out what real people clothes feel like to you, and then have a couple of go to outfits you can slip on when you’ve been in a hoodie and sweatpants all day and really need to get some work done. 

On that note, put on shoes. For me along w the tight clothing, I do better in shoes, specifically ones that lace up and can be tight. Like hightop converse, or boots, or even dress shoes w laces. I think in a way my body needs to be contained so I can focus on something? I’m not sure why I feel like that but i’ve learned to work w it. Putting on shoes for me helps because

1. I’m not distracted by what I’m putting my bare feet on (i cannot stand wearing socks unless im wearing shoes so yes bare feet)

2. I’m not getting distracted by my floor n the fact that hey maybe i should sweep bc there are some crumbs sticking to my feet now.

And 3. You put on shoes when you are going to go outside and go somewhere. It’s like putting pyjamas on to go to bed, you’re brain associates those items with doing something, so putting on shoes can signal to your brain hey we are doing something now, and that something is work.

Talk to your teachers !! I understand sometimes you have a teacher from hell and honestly idk what to tell you at that point but in  a lot of cases teachers can be very understanding !! The amount of support I’ve gotten from my teachers this year is absolutely insane and 100% the only thing that made it so I didn’t get kicked out of college. Like reaching out to your teachers shows that you care! if you have to take a mental health day sometimes let them know !! i would always let my teacher know that I really wanted to be in class but I just couldn’t handle it that day. They also can help connect you to resources you didn’t know about ! 

Look into what resources your school has !! I was talking about how next year is gonna go now that I’ve been diagnosed and such with my friend, and how I was gonna contact the DRC (disability resource center) and she didn’t know you could get support for having ADHD!! Like I know you can get extensions on due dates, attendance forgiveness, and even potentially note taking assistance when you have ADHD and talk to them. even if you are medicated it doesn’t 100% solve everything and there are still ways to get support! Whether its study groups, writing centers/support, tutoring, or even contacting your drc or whatever your school has, it can really help!! I’m definitely going to take advantage of these resources if I can next year ! 

Find a place outside you can go to clear your head (or have a mental breakdown) 

I can’t even begin to count the amount of times i’ve been freaking out over something or stressed out of my mind and my room started to feel to stuffy and claustrophobic and i just needed to get OUT. try to make sure it’s somewhere safe and close that you can go to even at night. (maybe try to shoot a text to your best friend that you’re out and if you don’t let them know you’re home by a certain time to start raising alarm, your safety is the most important) I tend to like to be up high because i’m further away from people, and the streets and I’m closer to the sky.

My go to thinking/breakdown spot is the roof of the parking garage a block away. It has stairs that are easy access and the top levels are usually empty even during the day. It really helps me to just go out and listen to music and collect my thoughts sometimes. My head can start going a million directions at lightspeed and I need to stop and be present, and being outside helps. It’s a good way to regroup.

Spend 10 minutes picking up your desk/work space. I tend to let my room get cluttered and messy and out of control a lot, to the point where I know it’s going to take at least a couple hours to get it clean again. It is also hard to focus when you’re in a messy environment. I would stress myself out and be like “well i HAVE to clean my whole room because I can’t focus if my space isnt clean I cant start until I clean” and then I would put all of my productive energy into cleaning, and get maybe halfway done before burning out and going to bed.

You’re never going to get any work done if you keep in this mindset. So instead just spend 10 minutes picking up the garbage off your desk, put the dishes in the kitchen, and put things back in their place. Then you will have enough space to work on your assignment and that space will be free of clutter so it won’t be as stressful. 

DRINK WATER DRINK WATER DRINK WATER

Have a water bottle in front of you when you’re studying/in class. I get fidgety a lot when i’m in class/studying (thank u adhd) and so having a water bottle is a way for me to fidget I guess? Depending on the water bottle, you have little steps you have to do to drink that help u fidget,

for example: pick it up, take off the lid, drink, put the lid back on, set it down.

Or pick up, push button that opens drink hole (?), set back down.

When I have a water bottle on my desk it satisfies my need to do something with my body and comes with the bonus of staying hydrated, without me having to lose focus doing something else. Also you won’t get distracted by a sore throat or the realization that you are really thirsty.

Pay attention to why you’re not paying attention. Not everything that works for me is going to work for you, so you have to figure out what works for you. I started to notice that I would be uncomfortable or feel funny working when I was in baggy clothes and that helped me figure out I needed to wear real people clothes. If you find yourself getting distracted, take note of what is distracting you. maybe try literally making a list of things that distract you, so then you can identify patterns and how to combat them !

That’s all I have for now, I hope some of these could maybe help? All of these have helped me actually complete an assignment occasionally, and somehow keep my ass in college. I just want to say that my experience is my own and things that work for me aren’t going to work on every one. college can be really tough, especially your first year when you’re trying to figure everything out. I may not have all the answers but feel free to shoot me a message!! i’m here for you if you want to ramble about an assignment you’re fed up with or a teacher you hate or anything thats bothering you !! Everyone’s college (and life) experience is different so don’t feel bad if yours doesn’t look the same as the people around you ! Remember to take care of yourselves !!!

Have a good day :)

#mine #study tips #college tips #study advice #adhd tips #? #studyblr #study #bullet journal #bujo #dark academia #light academia #I'm fucking trying academia #notes #muji #college advice #idk how to tag #i hope these kinda sorta make sense lol

[aria-laughs]

Real talk..(needed to vent, feel free to not read this if you don't like long rants)

When i was 11 years old i had already been through my fair share of crap. Coming from a "broken" home with little money, a depressed mother and an absent father. At that time i remember being bullied as a biproduct of my sister stoping one of her classmates (a 13 year old girl) from traveling half accross the contry to meet her 19 year old boyfriend who she'd met online for the first time.. under the pretence that she was traveling to visit my dad with my big sister. This all ended with the police stoping the train and picking the girl up before she reached her destination and everyone didn't have to suffer through the ordeal with a minor being raped or worse by a yound adult in a strange city..anyway. when the summer ended and we (me and my two siblings) gor back home, all these rumors spread about us and school became tricky. I got used to it tho, i had my friends and i quickly learned to keep close to teachers whenever i was alone. At the home front my mom became sick and the kids got a lot of grown up responsibilities. It was okay too.. kids get used to a lot, and today im a wizz in the kitchen and i clean with the best of them.

My mother had a temper, and would hit us when we did something wrong. I remember trying to cover for my siblings as much as possible, trying to shield them from the worst of it. Don't get me wrong, i LOVE my mother. She's been through hell and her sroty is worse than anything i've ever heard of. I understand what happened when i grew up and i love her because she allways did her best.. but i haven't forgiven her for making my home unsafe. At 11 years old one of my teachets notised that i had a hard time with my schoolwork. They couldn't get me to focus on my work and i was distracted by anything. I remember the letters mixing up as i read, and it became impossible to do my homework because no one could see the letters moving like i could. The teached contacted my mom and my stepfather and told them he'd talk to a specialist about me maybe having ADHD. The next week my mom dropped me off at the specialist and i got tested in every subject known to man. As usuall i exelled at language, history and music. But everything else was a bit off, i remember hearing him telling my mom that it couldn't be HDHD because my memory was too good. But refered her to a doctor for more tests. The ordeal took another week before my mother came to pick me up at lunch one day and told me we had to go to the hospital.

I had a thyroid condition that firsly was almost non-exsistent, and secoundly was unheard of in someone my age. They took blood, and sent me to get an MR and CT. When all the tests came back, we got the good news that i wouldn't die if they treated it quickly. But since i was still waiting for normal bodyparts to arrive, and hadn't gone through puberty yet.. he had no idea where to start. I don't remember the name of the medication, but i remember taking 15 a day. 5 in the morning, 5 when i got home from school and 5 before bed. I took them and 39 minutes later i was sprinting to the bathroom puking my guts out. This obviously didn't work in the long run and by the end of it i was so skinny you could see my teeth through my cheeks. They changed my meds and i stopped with the hurling. Instead i gained about 30 kg in the first 6 months and looked like a beach ball on legs. And as a kid being bullied, this wasn't that fun. Let me remind you that this had been going on for a while and tho my mom did what she could.. the was depressed and didn't see how bad it got for me and all the responsibilities i had at home made me dissapear in the day-to-day of it all. Alone and scared as the bullying became physical I panicked and stoped taking my meds, and all my symptoms came back. I would sleep for 14 hours and wake up exhausted. I'd go full days without getting hungry and i'd get moodswings and get real clumsy. My family got used to this and the symptoms stoped being symptoms and started being "just me".

So now i'd wake up and have to care for my siblings, go to school without lunch for myself because i had to make it for my siblings, or forgetting to shower because i had to remind my brother to do it. I get off the buss and get my ass kicked on my way to the classroom. Some days i'd get through it and come home to start dinner for my family, and other times the bullying sent me to the ER to get stitched up (i didn't have to make dinner on those days). This happened often enough that the doctor knew me by my first name, and instead of "how did you hurt yourself?) I'd get "Again!? When the nurses came to get me. One day i slept for 16 hours and my mother confronted me about my weightloss and asked if i'd been taking my meds. I came clean and a few hours at the doctors office and one frustrating car ride later. I'd promissed to take my pills again, but by that point i had ruined my body enough to never get better. So at 15 years old the doctors decided that they'd treat my thyroid with radioactive iodine. This worked great and killed the thyroid gland, making me dependend on meds for the rest of my life.

For anyone who don't know, the thyroid gland is responsible for your bodys metabolism. This means everything... your metabolism is a part of every funktion of every organ in your entire body, tho we usually think about how fast you burn fat because this is what we see on the outside.

We did our best, and we got through it. I had a safe place with my best friend and his family. And i'd escape there as often as i could. His mother would remind me to take my meds, she'd let me shower at their place and when she realised that i never ate at school she started packing lunch for me to send with her son every day.

I don't think i'd survive and be the person i am today without them. I remember the day i finally told them what was going on at home when i grew up, at this point i had grown up and moved away from home. I had started opening up to people i trusted and understood the power of talking about my problems. i never ment it as a "why didn't you see".. im thankful for my life, even the bad pars, but i needed them to know how much they saved me. To understand how much i love them all. I'll keep their reactions to myself, but i'll tell you that i have never felt more treasured in my life.

I was 22 years old the first time someone told me that I never deserved the abuse at home. I was 25 years old when i told my mother i forgave her for the physical stuff, but that i couldn't forgive her for stealing my feeling of home and safety. And i was today years old when i wrote it down for anyone to see.

I've been taking my meds for about 17 years now, but I have yet to actually get a normal metabolism. My last stunt was that i suddenly didn't need that much medicine so my metabolism speed up to lifethreatening speed and i had to endure panic attacks, dizziness, lack of consentration and shaking so bad that i almost quit school and almost sent me into a brainfailure (yes thats a thing) over the summer. My doctors paniced and reduced my meds so much that i didn't get nearly enough. This ended with me loosing weight, not eating, shaking, being sick and passing out all over the place, and almost sent me into a life threatening coma as my body overcompensated for the loss of thyroid hormones. My dad said something i've never heard my family say before. We were eating dinner last weekend and i was having a bad day when he told me "its painful to watch you struggle like this". And i almost cried, this was the first time in forever that a parent told me that they see me. And now i'm finally starting to get back to where im used to.

I have skipped a lot of stuff that happened. Some things i don't think i'll ever talk about, and some things that are too personal or too painful or too stupid to write down. But i needed to work through the new stuff, to reflecr back and to realise how close i came to loosing my life again this year. How lucky i am that i not only held on for dear life, but that with all the crap i felt. All the sickness and panic and everything. I managed to finish this semester at school. I managed to survive again, and im 6 months away from reaching my goal of allways being able to help when im needed. I am so proud of myself for getting to where i am today. And im so thankful!!

#my story #its a long one #im strong #i smile #student #nurselife #im okay

[falconsandfishes]

platonic relationship

i have a bone to pick with plato. see the socratic method is basically the scene in montynpython in which a woman is weighed against a peice of wood to determine if she is a witch. and this is pretty much also the measurement system women use for me judge a cardio junkie by his ability to withstand smoke fumes. ive been up all night listening to eminem because i wish that i had the mysogny that he had because logically i should be mad at these females who lie to me but apparently developmentally theyre limited. 

so pretty much i just want my neck not to hurt and my side and platonic love isn really the kind which could support my lumbar spine but if you think im angry you are right and maybe if i rhyme my brain will work this time and ill finally be able to explain was never targeted at my objects of affections at all i like to walk around the mall see a cutie with a skirt on and she sees me looking at her tells her grandmother to leave her there because this place looks fun as she smiles at me there comes abu my friend who judges me and judges you and as i stare at her i can tell she wants me too probably more emotionally mature than my mom and a virgin with her skirt on and its workun but i have the confidence of a plastic bag floating in the wind shes cheesing while i hide behind her even though shes 4 11 and im 6 4 and because he was there i didnt pass because i dont cross paths but even thinking about having a girlfriend makes him mad. if shes too young for me i would have figured that out but it doesnt help that no matter how young or how old even the weather lady im told shes not right for me so will you make up your mind please can someone define maturity because apparently there is a reverse correlation between it and age and socrates was no sage im not really impressed that he drank poison similarly i smoke weed which takes me back to age three and birthday parties then i think about how much my life failed but only because everyone always stood in front of me. so snitch on me when i talk to you when youre in front of me at your desk and say your story about butterflies is the best begging middle and end. meawhile i havent even gotten to the first page of my legend of the sword it had a much more compliated plot which was cut off. then tell me i didnt count to tenthousand while you were listening to the teacher say the is spelled t h e and put me in a remedial reading class with a bunch of girls and address us as the girls so we can read books about a mouse who lives with his family in a house but if girls and boys are the same how can you explain i was the only one in that group to be bumped up to the advanced on by 2nd grade. i guess reading the encylopedia of animals wasnt a wase memorized their latin names bufo sativa phylobates. so by third grade i was getting so good at math that they took me out of class and had me testing material meant for 5th graders and it was really lame how can i explain all the flaws in the system to all the other people who were also ruined by it.

finally one girl who was definitely old enough for me waved at me when i looked at her and i got a boner and walked over to the ladies at the tea shop who looked at me with a disgusted look on their faces then some gangster looking dude older than i am replaces me with his hand on her shoulder.

before i was 18 i could beat up my dad and ever since then i knew not many people in my generation had much of a chance against me but i looked so thin they were not understanding. high iq causing depression have anothe smoke session even though you have athsma everyone remember to complain that i prefer to get high off one big hit i stayed in high school till i graduated but i left.

unfortunately with brain damage i could still make straight as which made me think i was ok gpa jumping above 3.68 when i only show up an agerage of 3 days.

practice your sky hook do your pushups get embaressed when an asian princess sees you do them 20 hanlaps perfect form and im not even a jock wow id better stop. next thing the girl i like is sitting on my lap in class telling me she likes me back shes sitting on my desk shes rubbing my face my life isnt gay justnsaynsomehing and youll get laid.

nah ill let some kid with adhd steal her seat and ill help him with math instead because i didnt tell her this but im alread braindead. my soul probably died with my pet lizard or my kitten perhaps it was internet addiction. 

what makes you think youll be make it as a porn star? you know im hot. well maybe i just didnt want you to act like a slut. i still remember the blonde who waves at me and smiled my freshman year it was clear that the world was my oyster the only problem was i couldn make my own choices.

i wanted to be an actor but i was so good at acting nobody got it. was so good at debating everyone liked to argue. was so succinct couldnt get the last word. so fast nobody would pass me the ball so dominant in wrestling i had to pretend i couldnt win just to have a friend.

pretty much i feel like the last cro magonon stuck on an island without charlotte saisselin bounce baby bounce three story house you look so cute in a blouse. hey look theres charlottes stalker i think il wave my arms around.

bounce baby is a reference to eigth grade i was watching a 100 meter race and then some black guy said that she never raced again. weed turned her from a goth into a wigger and after that i figured id become one too but it wasnt till 2009 i started to dress like you. what happened was i got some clothes from olympia sports to wear as warmups on the basketball court and to work as a salesman i shaved my head smiled knowing i was dead but still i couldnt even say i wanted to kiss  girl without that not being cool enough for my nephew and her bowl broke too

it fell from her car on the pavement and she said that he didnt even get to hit it.

so now im living in my dads room on the floor and finally my back isnt sore i have a well paying job im away from mom i have iron lungs and dad still doesnt approve because now i play too much basketball.

hi im interested in going to california. i meant connecticut but califonia will do since its warm there. sure steve come on out west but read the fine print your 20s are dead.

prove you wrong shame on me. dont prove you wrong brag proudly. stay out west and let your dad die. watch him act like an asshole at home back east one more time. your reward for having surived on the street for years as a middle clas kid

your friend says he thought you were dead. by the way he has this girlfriend in connectiut. oh you were the one who set him up with her? theres a whole website or three centered around her? 

better get you to spend your money on heroin and make you seem like a jerk in front of my dad. my excuse is im skitzophrenic.

all because my dad shamed me for growing up even crazier than him. thats why i called up my friend and asked him to date my girlfriend. 

there must have been something in those amphetamines which made me keep stopping at her house. i found them up on the shelf years after i tried to spill them out.

it was the first time an adult had ever called me immature. he also said my handwriting was bad and i needed a cure. talking to him i began to get red where even to begin? i have a lot of prblems at home and this isnt fair. see my dad camps in the yard and gets drunk watches us through windows andmy sister punches me in the head. mom pretty much works till shes in bed.

every day she watches the same soap opera and oprah which i record for her on tape. my sisters friends call me gay so i go over and play with the kids from the other neighorhood all day. 

one of them listens to a lot of eminem. his favorite song is if you dont like it you can suck my dick. hes in reform school and proud to be off his meds. when i talk about biking down a steep hill and blending into traffic he thinks i meannliterall blend in.

two gay twin brothers end of the road honor roll kids. play baseball and have alcoholic parents. hey ill tell the girl steve likes he likes her then she will never talk to him again. accept his chalenge to a fight and he will bang my head into a tree which is the same thing i did to another kid who tried to jump me but got sperated from his friends. 

refuse to dance with the only girl in middle school who has hips. make fun of the girls intelligence who sits next to you in math and has giant tits. refuse to eat candy off the first girls tounge then your science teacher who pushed pills on you flips on the tv its 911

stare at a girl all day and say you dont like her. girls think youre gay if you have a boner. telll me a calculator doesnt mattrer for a test but i do worse without one. make a flag pencil it isnt cool enough for the other kids.

sit with the retarded kids timmy and jimmy. watch nick all night fresh prince and bill cosby.

your sister wont stop torturing you so hold her at knife point. buy knives at school try to resell them and for the first time ever the kids you sold them to ge caught witth knives.

stay in the program with three teachers who gave up on you. one leaves to become a dean suddenly your grades go up. kids are jealous because you dont do homework. girls smile at you knowing that your test scores are high despite that.

throw shotput as far as a high school kid without any exercise or practice. run around the track dozens of times in pants you still arent good enough yet.

go to an alternative program reluctantly in high school its sort of like jail. everyone smells like cigarettes the air is stale. this isnt good for you but we will make you think if you leave you will fail.