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Severe Adams Brainrot

@x-birdsong-x / x-birdsong-x.tumblr.com

Quite intimidated by the House fandom --- Incredibly attached to Adams I'm completely and painfully autistic about her I want her in years of therapy --- Certified Cameron & Amber & Masters Appreciator --- House playlists on spotify ---- Call me Bird! She/Her. Aroace lesbian. British, sorry. I have anxiety, InattentiveADHD, autism, C-PTSD, among other things and no social skills. Chronic pain/illness sufferer --- If you wanna talk to me your best bet is usually through asks --- I have a brain injury that causes me memory problems. If I say I do not remember something, I genuinely can not remember it --- Proud owner of three Ragdolls, a Border Collie lacking a brain, and a rescue Newfoundland. Will always have a Newfie in my life.

I just think multiple House characters should be allowed to have a dream where they are hitting their dad with a baseball bat and he is screaming and crying for help and maybe halfway through it has more to do with them killing him than it ever did protecting themselves

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If anyone was wondering (no one was), the most Thirteen + her brother song Ever to me is Hartebeest by Yaelokre. The whole song, but especially: "Where do we go when the river's running slow? Where do we run when the acres turn green and the cats kill one by one? Little rabbit (run, run, run, run, run)" -> something something both of them growing up learning they could eventually get sick and both of then testing positive as adults, knowing they're on limited time, knowing that time is running out. Their mom going, then Thirteen's brother going, and her living with the weight of being the last one left standing. The lyrics match all the way down to "little rabbit (run, run, run, run, run)" because in my headcanons, Thirteen's brother Jay's nickname for her since she was a baby has been "Rabbit". I will never not be screaming crying throwing up over these two

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okay yknow what types of hcs i love that we deserve more of? hyperspecific headcanons about the characters' backstories. god i love thinking about things like that, diving into their psyche, seeing the tiny details that made them who they are. you think masters went to an all girls' private school until college? fuck yeah! you think Kutner ran a d&d guild in university, or that Cuddy did mock trial in high school? FUCK yeah! give me all of the hyperspecific headcanons. origins of scars, tiny childhood memories, seemingly insignificant details... i want to hear them all. because lord knows i have an entire backstory for thirteen in my imagination. please feel free to rb and share your own!!

here's one of mine: thirteen and her brother grew up with a cat named marigold (the cat was a brown tabby. there was not a bit of yellow or gold on that cat.) until thirteen was ten. at that point, marigold went to live with their grandparents because of how sick their mom was.

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on growing up too fast, and a loss of childhood innocence

one: 5x10 "Let Them Eat Cake", textpost by tryworks // two, four, and six: "seven" by Taylor Swift // three: poetry by Margaux Paul // five: "Winter Without You" by Sarah Kay // seven: 5x14 "The Greater Good", textpost by tryworks

Opposite of "came back wrong" is "stayed exactly the same." Oh you want so badly to pretend that you have changed. You changed your face, you changed your name, you started leaning into a whole new role, but I know you. I know you. I know who you used to be, and I can see that person shining through you still. You can fool the world you can fool your friends you can fool yourself but you will not fool me.

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p6545-deactivated20150618

Our mothers do to us what their mothers did to them and what the mothers of their mothers did to them until one of us stands up and refuses to take it anymore but it isn’t a gesture of self-emancipation or a strengthening of personhood; it is simply an anguished strike against the cycle, the nature of affairs, the ever persistent convention that went on at the expense of the tender hearts of little girls who, like their brothers, deserved to sleep well and dream colorful but would only dream of an escape. Some wounded themselves, other shut down, even more gave up but there is always one child - ferocious of heart and robust of soul - who sees circumstance as chance and chance as a window out of a dark room. And to be that child is agony long before it is freedom.

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