#Or at least he is CANONICALLY NEURODIVERGENT

[littlefankingdom]

A couple of days ago, I came across this post (that I reblogged I think) about how one of the tragedy of Bruce and Jason's relationship was that Jason doesn’t know/believe Bruce loves him while Bruce thinks Jason knows how much he loves him. And I have since realized it's the same with Dick during his earlier Nightwing years.

Bruce thinks Dick knows how much he loves him, so he doesn't try to prove it, because he thinks it's obvious. He doesn't reach out, because Dick needs space and he must already know how Bruce loves him anyway. However, Dick thinks Bruce doesn't love him, and he is waiting for Bruce to reach out to show that he does, and when he doesn’t, he thinks it means Bruce doesn't love him.

Bruce thinks he has communicated clearly to his kids that he loves them so much, but he actually hasn't. He communicated it in his way, but the message didn't translate to others. This is probably because he is neurodivergent and grew up secluded from others, with Alfred and Leslie who have learned to understand him, so he doesn't realize his way doesn't work with everyone.

[xcchoco]

a recopilation of some drawings i did while i was reading heaven official’s blessing 👍🏻

[ferryfoam]

Would you guys burn me at the stake if I say that I think Chrysalis is actually a really important insight into Julian's character and his view on his own life and the people around him at the time it takes place. It's an episode that doesn't hold up today cause of the very ableist writing and kind of shitty moral but I think it's necessary that it's there and also occurs at the time it does in the show

I'll have a more insightful analysis on it one day cause I really want to talk about it (I want to make better researched ds9 analyses with actual clips from the show and whatnot instead of just vaguely referencing events from memory that could be completely wrong but unfortunately I do not have the time to be doing all of that. I would really like to in the future though)

[frosty-tian]

Do you have anymore stuff on your SG!graham? (It's okay if you don't)

Hmmm… not a lot, but some notes.:

-He’s more competitive and actively joins in bickering with his siblings.

-Doesn’t fight as much physically, but likes to start them with snark comments and/or simply watches (for his own amusement).

-Somehow knows which exact buttons to push to brutally strike anyone’s nerve, or win them over. Maybe both within three hours, depends on his mood/calculations.

-Outside of being an engineer, he’s also a black hat hacker who’s very good at both jobs. Got a lot of dirt collected from almost everyone he knows, not even his own family members are safe. Certainly not above selling/dealing various information either for his family’s or his own benefits.

-Related to above point, he possibly runs an illegal small business on the side where he sells self-altered weapons.

-The pens in his pocket are actually stealth weapons, one conceals a blade, the other a type of sleeping dart.

-Possibly the more two-faced member of the Burns.

Bonus doodle of what-if SG!Graham attempted to sweet-talk canon!Boulder (his taste is still the same (or ‘impeccable’ as he describes) after all.:

(Graham literally about to beat himself up over matters.)

[oh-meow-swirls]

i think this was funnier in my head.

[imitor]

thinking about tetchou again and how by my portrayal he’s the first “hunting dog” but by the standard that i think that the experimentations/human modifications came first and the banding of the hunting dogs came later. meaning i think, at least for now that i would say tetchou was experimented/modified as a child and when they were successful the branch of research for a special division of ability users was created and the rest of the hunting dogs were sourced by fukuchi. we know that tachihara and teruko were likely found as children and that jouno had previously been affiliated with a mafia/yakuza group. tetchou just remains a mystery to me but i align his beginnings with being more like chuuya and verlaine. not in the same vein of testing but that he was taken from his family/found by someone after tragedy and exploited and formed into the first of their “kind” being genetically modified and enhanced special ability users.

[theguardianace]

i actually do not understand how people can see toya and not immediately flag him as autistic

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

tbh i think one of the biggest things they could have done to make five and nine hate each other without bullying or bigotry involved would have been to lean into the thing where some adhdtistics naturally vibe, whereas others have an incompatible combination of nd traits that make them viscerally unable stand each other, and go from there

[scarlet-bee]

I was thinking about my OC Molly, but I accidentally thought the name Wally instead, so my thought ended up being "Thinking about making ADHD Wally canon," as if I have that power.

[psychemochanight]

Have you ever thought that Dick might have some kinda of eating disorder?

Like, not something like anorexia or vigorexia, it's not that he has a goal and that's why he distorts his diet. It is more of an unconscious thing, but it still becomes an eating disorder because he has no control over it.

Let me explain what I mean-

Dick simply forgets to eat.

When he's deeply involved in a case, we know he's even capable of not sleeping for days (this is canon). Who says he probably doesn't remember to eat either?

This becomes a kind of cycle in the long run.

Dick simply doesn't eat, and that causes him to either lose the sensation of hunger afterwards, or on the contrary, eat more than usual. When he overeats, he doesn't do something extreme like purposely avoid the next meal, but he does try to stay active to burn calories (he needs to be fit), and this causes him to forget to feed himself again until he simply has no energy left, so it's a cycle.

Plus, who says he's probably not on a sugar rush 24/7? It has sometimes been seen that he probably lives on sweets and coffee when he's too busy nor too tired to cook by himself.

The batfamily doesn't realize this, at least not at first.

Everyone has stopped by Dick's apartment, and he always cooks for everyone. He never seems to be short of something to cook, it's rare, and he usually says it before they mention anything, so it's obvious that he knows what he has and what he doesn't have in his kitchen.

Plus, this guy has been living alone since he was 16, if he hasn't starved to death and is still fit it's because he knows how to take care of his diet, right?

There is no clue that anyone would suspect that he has a poor diet, right?

Yes... No.

It's not particularly serious, but it's still not healthy.

And it's not until one of his friends asks if he ate anything after their last outing (over 48 hours ago), and he says he completely forgot about it, that they realize something is wrong there.

Suddenly, the whole family is asking routine questions about his diet, and now the problem isn't whether he's eating or not, but whether he's lying about it or not.

(if you like Dick's HC of him having ADHD, this becomes 60-70% more likely to occur, (we neurodivergents don't know what it means to have a healthy eating schedule.))

[flightlessribbons]

I take every single opportunity to project my sensory issues/neurodivergence on every character with perpetual headphones- Nino included.

Some headcanons about the main 5 and their persona changes under the cut!

Each protag has something that changes when they're in either one of their personas.

The main two's are obvious and fairly cloae to canon but the other three are a little bit different since they pertain a lot to this AU'S headcanons.

- Marinette's biggest is her confidence and decision making that doesnt always come through in her civilian form.

-Adrien's is his carefree attitude and agency that he doesn't have in his everyday life.

The more headcanony ones:

- Alya is always mediating between her older sister, parents, and little siblings. With her older sister and dad butting heads a lot, and the twins being the pranksters they are, Alya's patient and calm front to the situations helps keep everything under control. Constantly emotionally aware and trying to monitor everyone's moods, but doesn't abuse the influence she has in her family. D O E S however manipulate the FUCK out of her enemies when transformed. Makes the trickster part of her miraculous proud.

Also does gentle parent her teammates when there's a dispute. Only Carapace has noticed.

- Chloe in this AU is like Jane Austen's "Emma": constantly helping her dad keep things in order. Has been the one honestly running the hotel business since she was 10, at least in every aspect but on paper. She sees her dad and his bouts of depression, and tries her best to ease his workload at home at least. She's not perfect, but she's trying. As class president, she tries to please everyone and lead with a firm, but fair, hand. In comparison to the busy mayor's daughter who's tried her best to clean up her image and ebb her temper, Queen Bee is a harsh critic. Chloe feels her emotions much more freely when transformed, and is the most willing of her teammates to do the dirty work that needs to get done.

- Nino's grew up entertaining his brother while their mom would work late, taking on a more upbeat attitude longer than he would actually be comfortable with. This behavior moved into school too, where he got into habit of pushing his social battery past what it should while trying to make everyone comfortable. Doesn't mask as much with the class and his main friend group, and always puts his headphones on as a "do not disturb sign" that everyone in class respects. Carapace is the complete opposite. Since there's no need for a social buffer between the heroes and Carapace was the last to join and was welcomed warmly- Nino stays mute/speaking when necessary and has his gear help buffer his senses. Incredibly observant since he's not draining himself, and is the best defense and tank the team could ask for.

[arieswritez]

puppy love

puppy love | yandere!mark grayson x afab!reader | MULTI-CHAP: 3

chapter 2

cw; DARK CONTENT!!! MDNI!!! reader is neurodivergent, ableism, growing up is messy & adults suck, angst, niceguy™/slight incel mark, childhood friend/bully!mark, mark gets his powers sooner, teeny tiny implications of pseudo incest (blink and you'll miss it), violent rape, threats of violence, & canon typical violence, stalking, implied murder, gender & body dysphoria, mentions/implications of disordered eating, mark teases reader about their body once, overall asshole mark, implied grooming (mark handles it but he's a lil bitch about it later), so, victim blaming, misogyny, the inexplicable horrors of being afab, objectification, sexualization

about; you don't know how long i could stare into your picture and wish that it was me i guess it's different 'cause you love him but i've got an interactive sick and twisted imagination and that's gotta count for something - not allowed (tv girl)

3.

you'd found a boy that made your heart go thump thump, thump. and you knew very well how the rest of that story usually went.

your love was encompassing. asphyxiating and obsessive. and in the very first moment the two of you interacted, you knew, this could be it.

you didn't blame yourself.

you couldn't blame yourself.

blame the love stories.

the disney movies with the princes and the magic mirrors. breaking curses with true love's kiss. much like the fabricated sugary fantasies, your potential life with him unfolded before your eyes.

he could be the one.

true love's forever kiss.

you imagined it all.

movie theater dates, awkward parental meetings, proposals, a home, kids, pets. arguments. therapy, even. pushing through at the end. death. rebirth. trying it all over again in the next life.

all you had to do was get him to stick around.

you had to make him understand that you could be his true love kiss, too.

you had to be perfect.

. . there was just one miniscule problem.

the boy so happened be on the same baseball team as mark.

it's the way the two of you had met.

despite the fact that you were supposed to be there for mark: your eyes were . . elsewhere. your eyes - then your focus - had gravitated towards him even before the first pitch. and you found yourself blushing as you watched him stretch: holding his baseball bat over his head.

you'd made it your only goal to attempt to extract as much information about it from mark as discretely as you could. and frankly, you should've known mark would be able to read you like the back of his hand.

because he found out what you were trying to do embarrassingly quickly.

and he was just as quick to shut it down.

you hadn't noticed the boy before. not really. but since the baseball game, he seemed to be everywhere. and you were excited to find that he was the new addition to mark's friend group. you knew this because you saw him and mark sitting together during lunch.

which meant they were at least acquaintances.

so imagine your shock when you came to find out. . mark didn't like him.

everything about him seemed to rub mark the wrong way. mark would clam up the moment you mentioned your boy. he'd change the subject. or his mood would just straight up sour. he'd go quiet and avoidant. and when you kept pushing, he finally snapped.

your boy was stupid.

your boy was shallow.

"don't say i didn't warn you." mark would mumble.

but warning you wasn’t enough.

your boy barely looked at you.

and you weren't sure if it was in part because of the way you acted. . the way you looked. maybe he was so out of your league that he'd completely removed you from his radar.

you'd watch him from across hallways and excitement would swell in your chest when you found that you'd be walking in opposite directions.

you'd see him coming.

he'd see you.

time would slow as you walked past him.

your heart rate would pick up.

but his eyes would remain forward and time would pick back up again as soon as you were past each other.

all it'd leave you with was the bitter taste of rejection in your mouth and a deep ache of anxiety bubbling in your stomach.

the only thing that sobered you up were the dizzying possibilities.

he hadn't seen you. he hadn't noticed the effort you'd put in.

but eventually, he would.

you don't know what it was that grabbed his attention.

mark was vehemently against introducing you two.

you were at a loss until you realized that you'd just have to try harder.

whenever mark left for the bathroom, you'd made it a mission to swipe mark's phone during study sessions. you'd go through his socials and send yourself screenshots of both his follower count and who he was following.

it was a long tedious progress but eventually, you'd found your boy's account.

thankfully, it was public. which meant the the decoy accounts you'd made to snoop just in case he was private turned out to be a waste of time.

you looked through his followers and did your homework on anyone he showed a particular interest in. you'd even made a list of the usernames of the people who’s posts he interacted with the most.

and soon you became a master of disguise.

you studied them top to bottom.

those that went to the same school were far easier to emulate.

you copied their mannerisms, the way they styled their hair, you changed the cadence of your voice, the way you rolled your r’s. your clothing grew tighter and your slouch was now an exaggerated upbeat gallop as you chased after the object your new affection, hoping one day he'd notice.

. . and the exact moment he looked into your eyes and did a double take. . you did one, too.

it was completely out of surprise before you caught yourself and continued to saunter away from him with butterflies in your stomach: flapping their wings so violently it felt like you'd be swept away.

his attention was the most excitement you'd felt. . in a long time.

and you knew you'd do anything to retain it.

it was a sickly sweet feeling: syrupy, sticky. clogging your vascular system to the point your head swelled. the lack of oxygen only heightened your fantasies.

the attention was addictive and so, so good you found yourself chasing that high all the time. going to extreme lengths to get his attention. even if they’d end up embarrassing you after.

you never allowed yourself to wallow in the feeling of dread that settled in your stomach when you did everything in your power to get his attention, though.

specially whenever it made a smile stretch across his face.

whatever you did faded into the background.

it was all worth it in the end.

something was wrong with mark.

and he needed to get to the root of the problem fast.

he was looking at you. . differently.

he talked to his dad.

nolan had said something about the changing moods having to do with his powers. how being intense and passionate was just in his blood.

he talked to his mom about it. albeit in a more discrete way. he'd never be able to live it down if she'd found out you were making him behave a certain way.

she'd just chalked it up to it being puberty.

mark didn't know who to believe.

he just wanted to stop thinking about you.

his nerves were shot to shit whenever you were near.

senses heightened: you were a fog blanketing his brain until your voice carried with it a technicolor vision.

he could smell you coming like a damn blood hound.

he could hear your pulse while sitting next to you.

something was wrong with mark.

he knew it when his teeth ached when you'd stretched your neck: raised your arms over your head and let out a little sound of pain and discomfort.

something was wrong with mark.

when the day's turned warm and wet. . and your clothing became more revealing.

he could see more of you.

freckles and moles, blemishes and scars, he hadn't noticed before.

he'd follow sweat drops rolling down your skin.

smooth. soft.

he'd held you, once.

when was the last time?

something was wrong with mark.

he'd lay awake at night staring up at the ceiling.

thinking about how you'd looked while you concentrated on a book. while you looked down at your phone. while you listened to music: smiling when a song you liked came on.

your little humming. . but not singing.

never singing.

mark noticed you'd stopped singing in front of him when he started to make fun of you for it.

that, too, was how mark knew something was wrong with him.

the way your moods would shift like tides under a crescent moon whenever he'd said something excited him. he felt pleasure - a violent zap of electricity shooting up and down his spice - watching your eyes light up or darken when he'd say something to you.

about you.

i like your hair today.

light.

you talk so goddamn much.

dark.

i missed you.

light.

your stories take fucking forever.

dark.

something was wrong with him when he found his own mood depended on fantasizing on how he'd make you feel that day.

if he was in a bad mood, seeing you in one, too, was a sure-fire way to make his day a whole lot better.

something was wrong with mark.

when he'd have to smother the sounds he made while imagining you -

something was wrong with him. . when red, hot anger consumed him when one of his friends made a smart quip about your body.

when he couldn't just laugh it off anymore.

something was wrong with mark.

. . or so he thought.

because he'd later find out. .

. . no.

something was wrong with you.

all of a sudden: mark was the one double texting.

triple texting.

mark was the one asking if he could hang out. . and when the fuck did he ever need permission?

mark was the one seeking you out.

something was wrong with you.

and he needed to get to root of the problem.

he picked his brain apart in an attempt to figure out what it was. you couldn't be under any stress. you looked fine. better than fine.

you looked happy.

fucking elated.

to the point where mark couldn't affect your moods anymore.

mark wanted to know what the fuck you were so happy about.

why the fuck you were so happy when he was falling apart at the seams. when his world was crashing down.

and there you were, completely fucking oblivious.

mark had always been curious.

and so, he went to see you.

the two of you were in your room.

you'd excused yourself to go to the bathroom.

and mark started looking.

you were predictable.

he knew where you kept your journal. despite how many times he'd found it and read it aloud - holding it above his head whenever you tried to snatch it away - he'd always managed to figure out your next hiding place.

it was easier that way.

he pretended he didn't know where it was.

you pretended to have some privacy.

he pretended not to know every single, minute, insignificant detail of your life.

of your thoughts.

thank fuck you were still so naive.

thank fuck for dairies.

he'd found it in a box under your bed.

and after flipping to the page with the freshest set of ink. . he'd found out what your problem was.

you'd found a boy who'd made your heart go

thump.

thump.

thump.

[maxdibert]

Having a shitty past is no excuse for being a horrible person, and Snape was a horrible person. Snape fans always try to turn him into a tragic hero, but there was nothing heroic about him when he was just an obsessive bigot who followed a group of genocidal maniacs

Well, I think I’ve said this a million times already and explained in exhausting detail why growing up in a particular environment—lacking social, emotional, economic, or essential support—and being subjected to violence during the most crucial years of cognitive development creates the perfect breeding ground for antisocial behavior. It also makes vulnerable or socially excluded youth prime targets for sectarian groups (whether religious, political, or otherwise) that prey on their situation, offering them promises of protection, safe spaces, surrogate parental figures, or social progress. These groups actively seek out kids with emotional voids caused by dysfunctional family dynamics, minimal to no financial resources, and a profound sense that the system has failed them at every turn. They offer these kids an alternative system—one that gives them a roof over their heads, a hot meal, a place to belong, and people who won’t marginalize them like the rest of society has—at the simple price of blindly following the group’s ideology. And they do it. Of course, they do. Because what other choice do they have? This group gave them life, a place in society, and restored their status as human beings.

But since I’ve spoken about this at length before and about how Severus’s life shaped his decisions, I feel like I’m starting to sound like a broken record. So, since I’m also reading a legal ruling I need to memorize by Friday, I’m going to indulge myself and dissertate as freely as I please—because hey, if you’re going to throw hate, I’m going to grant myself the privilege of replying however I want.

Here’s a question: why does it even matter? Seriously, what does it matter if he was a shitty person? Do you know that people go to space today thanks to the work of physicists and engineers who were literal SS members? That after WWII, all the top scientists, physicists, chemists, and engineers were granted amnesty and fast-tracked into citizenships so they could work on government projects? That people working within a stone’s throw of concentration camps are the pioneers behind some of the greatest technological advances of the 20th century? And you don’t care that the products you consume are derived from the work of collaborators with mass genocide, but you’re upset that people find a fictional character interesting? I don’t want to sound cynical, but honestly, it’s ridiculous to get so morally high and mighty about a character who doesn’t exist and who followed an extremist cult for, what? 3 or 4 years tops? and then canonically worked actively to take it down. If we put Severus in a real-world, wartime context, the guy would be a literal war hero with medals to his name. No exaggeration. If he survived, he’d be recruited with a fat paycheck to work in internal affairs for some major world power’s secret projects. That’s just how the world works.

And yeah, he was obsessive. But in an era where everyone suffers at least one anxiety episode a month, where the best-case scenario is that your panic attacks don’t spiral into chronic mental health issues—can we really judge him for that? Like, most of the people I see being ultra “snater” are folks who openly declare themselves neurodivergent, and one of the common denominators of all neurodivergence is obsessiveness. All of them. Whether it’s chronic anxiety, depression, OCD, ADHD, paranoid schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder or autism. Every single one has an obsessive component. So it’s kind of ironic—and even hypocritical—for people who are themselves pretty obsessive (because let’s face it, we’re all compulsively doomscrolling here to soothe our anxious compulsions with little dopamine hits) to judge this character’s obsessiveness as a negative trait. Maybe let’s take a good look in the mirror, too.

And let me just say, no court would convict Severus of collaborating with a terrorist group. Not a single one. Impossible. Especially since he literally collaborated against said group, so any judge would happily clear him—not after the war, but the moment he struck his deal with Dumbledore. Severus is what’s known as an informant. He worked from the inside, exposed himself to greater dangers than regular agents. Legally speaking, there have been cases where people guilty of heinous crimes—including crimes against humanity—were let off because they provided critical information. So imagine someone like Severus, who, as far as we know, didn’t even kill anyone during his time in the group, willingly spilling the beans and agreeing to work as a spy. He’d be celebrated as a hero of war. Hell, they’d probably buy him a mansion in Florida if he wanted one. That’s just how our system works, and honestly, this kind of moralist posturing is pretty cringy because you’re talking about a guy who literally saved half of magical society’s asses and without whom the kid destined to save the world would’ve died in his first year at school.

You can dislike him or think he’s a jerk, but he was damn good at his job. And compared to the people he’s often unfairly measured against (Sirius, James, Remus...), he actually did something. They didn’t. Absolutely nothing. Contribution: negative one.

[demilypyro]

There's a thought/theory/whatever I've long had about a specific pair of episodes from Star Trek: Deep Space Nine ever since I was a teen, and I'm putting this post out there to see if anybody else had the same thought.

I think Julian Bashir from Deep Space Nine, especially his plotline about having been genetically altered at a young age, is a commentary on neurodivergency.

Bashir is characterized as being highly intelligent, albeit lacking in social insight. He excels in academic matters but frequently finds himself floundering around women, being led by the nose by more charismatic people, and not picking up what other people are putting down. This alone would make him the average stereotypical TV depiction of an autistic person, but what I want to focus on is the episode that provides a canonical reason for these traits: the season 5 episode Doctor Bashir, I Presume.

In this episode it's revealed, or retconned really, that Bashir owes his intelligence to genetic tempering. Bashir originally suffered from a learning disability. He was not as intelligent as other children his age, falling far behind his peers, and his parents resorted to illegally altering his genes to "cure" that disability. As a result he instead became exceedingly intelligent. In essence, it took away a symptom that made his life more difficult, and traded it for one that made him more functional.

That episode on its own isn't a super strong nod towards autism. Though it does establish that Bashir is at least neurodivergent, it's more a discussion on eugenics and the theoretical ethics of removing disabilities through genetics. What I really want to focus on is the sort-of-sequel to this episode, and the only other episode that really focuses on these themes: the season 6 episode "Statistical Probabilities." In this episode, Bashir sets out to help other people who underwent genetic alteration, but for whom the treatments didn't go as well. The people he meets all display symptoms of one neurodivergency or another. One of them is very hyperactive and lacks empathy, another is very childlike despite being an old man, and another is entirely unresponsive.

For me, as someone who grew up in special education, I couldn't help but recognize some of the people I knew. To me, the metaphor was clear: "genetic alteration" was really just sci-fi talk for neurodivergency. Julian was the savant, the high-functioning autistic person who successfully integrated into society, because his neurodivergency gave him intelligence and insight that made him useful. And the others weren't as lucky, struggling to lead normal lives because their symptoms impeded their ability to function by themselves.

Bashir spends the episode trying to prove that the other genetically altered people have something to offer society, that there is a place for them. It felt very on the nose to me. But no one I've seen talk about this pair of episodes ever seemed to have taken from them what I took from them. I can't find anyone else online who interpreted the episodes the same way. Maybe my perspective is very particular, as someone who spent so much time in special education growing up, and who has personally struggled with finding a place where I can offer something to others. But idk. Am I seeing allegories that aren't there? What do yall think?

[twrk11]

Miscellaneous SFW Jabberwock Member Head canons

A/N: I kind of wish this was longer..? I feel that this could’ve been better but.. I’ll probably over time think of more and just post again.

words: 409

!!Remember this is opinion, though much is inspired by certain things mentioned in the story!!

read under cut

Haru Sagara -

-I’d think that if you’re dating he’d love the thought that you both are peekaboo’s parents. Often when he’s cooing to Peekaboo he will refer to you as mommy/daddy.

-He secretly will deliberately get messy after one time you picked sticks, and leaves out of his hair and wiped his face that had smudges of mud on it.

-He has chubby cheeks.

-A MASSSSIIIIIVE hypocrite. If he finds out you didn’t eat the way you should? He’s upset. You’re not taking care of yourself in general? He WILL hound you to do so while giving praises as to why you should and how you deserve it.

-Definitely does the thing where he taps one shoulder then appears at the other.

-Probably eats soft food or anything that can be quickly eaten. It’s his favorite since if he’s eating it he can save some time and still eat at least a bit. Maybe his favorite is instant mashed potatoes.

-I think he might be neurodivergent, or at the least struggles a little with social cues. (Though he really tries his best!)

Towa Otonashi-

-He wanders out of jabberwock just to see you, even though he shooooould be working.

-Since he follows Haru, I like to think he picks up some of his mannerisms. (Never is it of benefit to Haru, if only Towa would pick up some slack..)

-Probably accidentally caused a small explosion in the Jabberwock dorms.

-I also think on top of the weather changing when he’s upset, when he’s told no to something he will puff his cheeks up and hold his breath until the person(Haru) changes their mind.

-Probably sleep walks

-I think he’s neurodivergent

Ren Shiranami-

-He’s afraid to close his eyes while he’s in the shower because he’s afraid that calamari for whatever reason could show up. (even though the water isn’t salt water)

-Had a point in his life where he was addicted to Tetris.

-He HATES the sound of people popping their joints.

-I feel like he’d have a small stutter, nothing too serious that it’d really impact his life but it flares up every so often in a conversation.

-Bounces his leg when he sits

-He loves taking and having pictures of you to look back on, even if you think it’s an ‘ugly’ photo. He loves them all. (he won’t admit it. He’ll lie to cover up)

-Like Towa, I also think Ren is neurodivergent

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。WONDER — AL-HAITHAM.

contents. fluff, mentions of al-haitham’s grandmother, hints at sensory sensitivities (neurodivergent al-haitham is canon to me), just thinking ab al-haitham perhaps not liking being grand sage at all but nothing is ever that bad as long as he has you, y’know?

“hey,” you murmur, sitting next to al-haitham. he hums, watching from the corner of his eye as you settle down. “kaveh said you’d be here. mind if i join?”

“no,” he mumbles, “never. as long as you didn’t bring kaveh.”

“i didn’t,” you roll your eyes, smiling.

al-haitham has come here since he was young—by the docks of sumeru city at night, feet dangling over the water. the first few times, grandmother had scolded him when he’d return—by the fifth, she’d resigned to letting him run off. it’s quiet—it’s still and peaceful, but not lifeless. for a while, it used to be a spot for him to just read. after some time, it becomes the one place he can relax when even being home is not enough to calm him.

“rough day?” you ask gently, rubbing over goosebumps on his exposed arm. his cloak keeps the other warm, safe from the night breeze as you sit by the water.

“yeah i guess,” he mumbles, “just overwhelming.”

“these didn’t help?” you ask sympathetically, tapping on the ear pieces over his head. he shakes his head, sighing as your fingers slip into his hair, stroking through the locks gently.

“couldn’t turn them on for most of the day anyway,” he mumbles, “had too many people coming up to me.”

“grand sage life’s not treating you well, huh?”

“not in the slightest,” he snorts—but it ends in a scoff, and there’s not much humor in his voice.

“well, you’re doing a good job,” you lean and kiss his jaw, hugging his arm, “for what it’s worth.”

“i didn’t want to take it,” he mumbles, “but no one’s qualified for the position right now. i didn’t….i can’t let anything happen again.”

al-haitham is kind—most people miss it. you can tell from the way he finds remorse in the way life is so complicated in sumeru, in the way most people can’t find peace even when they try. so he takes up the offer, even when he doesn’t want to—just so life doesn’t have to be even more complicated, even if just for a bit.

truthfully, you don’t think there’s anyone more capable of being grand sage than al-haitham. in fact, you think it’d be safest if it was him. but you also don’t think he could do it for too long, not when he hates it—the responsibility, the pressure, the authority. grandmother has always warned al-haitham of people who try to take advantage of the brilliant, of the burdens that come with being different.

it’s a gift, she’d tell him, but all gifts come with a cost. so he keeps a simple life, stays to himself and does nothing more than he needs to. it’s better that way, he realizes—but even so, he could never turn away when he’s needed, especially not when the whole nation is ready to crumble.

“you’ll find someone soon,” you hum, hand rubbing slow circles into his chest, “and then you’ll get demoted to scribe again. don’t worry, i’ll still love you the same.”

“because my salary will remain?” he teases lightly, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips—the first smile of the day, but not the last.

al-haitham trusts you with that—with making sure he smiles at least once a day, with making sure he falls asleep with a smile at the end of every night.

“well, as much as i love grand sage salary,” you chuckle, “i love you more—at least, i think,” you add the last part with a playful nudge. he laughs softly—the first laugh of the day. even if the laughter comes late, there’s something peaceful about ending the day that way.

maybe it’s not so bad, he thinks, maybe nothing is so bad when he has you to come back to before the moon leaves and takes the stars with her. as long as he ends the night with you, he supposes he doesn’t mind starting a new day all over again, even when it comes with new troubles.

“you only think you love me?” he asks, biting back an amused smile.

you shoot him an easy grin, “well, love is fickle, grand sage,” you tease, “who knows what it is for sure?”

it’s easy, you think quietly—it’s easy to define what it falling in love is like when al-haitham sits next to you, when he drapes his cloak over you, when you feel his heart beat under your palm, when you can see the tension ease from his shoulders the more he sits with you.

it’s always been easy, like it comes and goes as second nature.

“you know,” he says quietly, after a few moments, “when i was young, i asked grandmother what it felt like to be in love.”

you hum, staring at your feet as they dangle over the water, tapping your foot against his. he taps back, making you grin to yourself softly.

“oh really?” you raise a brow, “you thought about other things besides books as a kid?”

“i read all kinds of books,” he defends, “it’s good to be well rounded. i enjoy a romance here and there. besides, everyone wonders at one point,” he adds, “didn’t you?”

you smile at the thought of al-haitham reading something romantic, giggling quietly as your hand grabs his and weaves your fingers together. “i suppose i did wonder, yes. what’d she say?”

“she said i’d figure it out when i do fall in love,” he chuckles, “i wasn’t too happy with that answer.”

“i can imagine,” you say in amusement. “well? have you found your answer yet?”

he thinks for a moment, pondering if he has. he thinks about how he waits to have lunch late every day just to have it with you, how even with an empty stomach, he feels full to the brim when he sits down with you. he thinks about how he walks the long way home just to buy those sweets you like, how even if he’s tired, he’s never felt more alive than when you smile. he thinks about how he’s cold right now, how even when the cool air stings his skin, nothing is as cold as the way your touch is warm.

if love doesn’t feel like you, then al-haitham is inclined to believe he’s not made for love. it must to be you, he thinks, how could it not be?

“i think so,” he nods, squeezing your fingers with his.

“then do share, grand sage al-haitham,” you tap your foot against his again, swinging your legs as you shuffle closer to him. “what does it feel like to be in love?”

he turns, leaning down and stealing a soft, chaste kiss against your lips. “like that,” he grins, “wouldn’t you agree?”

i’m down so horrendously and embarrassingly bad for this guy what the fuck