#adhd boredom is dangerous | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jamilelucato · 1 year ago

Text

possibility - fred weasley

pairing: fred weasley x slytherin!reader

(it can be read as a one-shot) (part 02 here!)

summary: Amidst the boredom, an unexpected connection sparks between (Y/N) and the charismatic mischief-maker, Fred Weasley.

note: They are in their last year at Hogwarts, so, for purposes, they are 18; besides, the whole canon of the book (it would've been Order of the Phoenix) is mostly nonexistent here.

the reader: can be interpreted as someone with ADHD; she loves literature and she has no friends.

words: 7580

Enjoy!

The lesson trudged on, dripping with tedium.

In truth, (y/n) quite liked Professor Flitwick. She had, in fact, eagerly accepted his invitation to become his assistant whenever the First Years graced his class. Being an assistant delighted her to no end. Yet, being a student, well, that was a different cauldron of bubbling potion altogether.

Today, Flitwick's lecture on Spellcasting and its perils was dragging on and on. As a sixth-year student, the curriculum seemed more intent on delving into existing knowledge than offering exciting novelties. While these topics might hold allure for a future Auror or the like, they were a one-way ticket to Boredomville for her.

Ever since (y/n) had decided upon her career path – a decision that seemed to have been brewed in the deepest recesses of her being – most of her classes had metamorphosed into a soporific ordeal. Hogwarts wasn't particularly renowned for its prowess in teaching language and literature, but that was precisely where her ambitions lay. A writer, a wordsmith, perhaps even an editor or a high school pedagogue. Anything that would let her commune with the magic of words, not the sort that burst from wands.

Now, she wasn't a woeful spell caster by any means. Professor Flitwick wouldn't have sought her assistance if she weren't a smart witch. But, her heart preferred the dance of ink on parchment over the intricacies of wand-waving, often rendering her classroom hours relatively inconsequential.

Seeking refuge from this stifling monotony, (y/n) allowed her gaze to wander. And in this sea of faces, her eyes collided with Fred Weasley – the school's most notorious ginger-haired mischief-maker. He was already watching her, a mask of effortless nonchalance draped over his face. He raised his brows at her, noticing she was staring back, and he did not look away. And so, they locked eyes, neither relinquishing the connection. It was not a duel of gazes; it was more like a shared secret, a silent agreement over how tedious the class was.

A minute passed in this silent communion until Fred graced her with a faint smile. The spell was broken, and her attention returned to her empty parchment. A quiet sigh fluttered like a long-forgotten page being turned, but it vanished into the air, unheard by all but her.

With pen in hand, she felt an almost magical compulsion to transcribe Flitwick's words onto her parchment. His voice, though droning before, now seemed less boring.

“To its nature, we shall survive it, but the opponent targetted... not so much,” the professor intoned, the words finally finding their mark within her consciousness. Cruel nature, indeed. “Well,” she mused, her back moulding into her chair as her quill danced across the parchment, “Every spell I remember does possess a hint of danger.”

At long last, her notes held substance, and her enthusiasm, while subdued, had been rekindled. Her gaze again drifted sideways to where Fred Weasley was, only to find he had shifted his focus – to his twin, George.

They sat side by side, mirror images of naughtiness. (y/n) sometimes forgot that they were identical twins because she was so used to having them around that they started to look apart. George's height had a mere smidgen of variance, while Fred's nose was a tad more prominent. Freckles played a symphony across their faces, arranging themselves differently – Fred’s were more concentrated around his forehead. Yet, at that moment, as (y/n) blinked through her confusion, she wondered if she'd mixed up their features. Had she glimpsed George's grin instead?

But then, as if choreographed by fate, Fred resumed his original posture and caught her looking. His lips curled into an unmistakable smirk. “It's certainly Fred, then,” she thought, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, unwanted. She redirected her attention back to the good Professor Flitwick and his lesson, and weirdly enough, after all that gazing, she had regained her focus and was more ready to be a satisfactory student.

Amidst her studies, (y/n) was ensconced within the library's embrace.

This day bestowed upon the library an uncommon hush, a tranquillity that seemed to defy the norm. The librarian always managed to get the kids quiet, but she couldn't stop them from coming all at once when frenzied by the looming spectre of approaching exams.

However, an anomaly unfolded on that Friday afternoon, bestowing upon (y/n) the most unexpected gift – the library, in all its boundless expanse, was hers to claim. A rarity that, peculiarly, she found herself not enjoying. Amidst the solitude, her focus waned like a candle in a draft, flickering and unstable. Concentration eluded her, much like the fleeting caress of a dream upon waking. Reading, that intimate act of solitary exploration, seemed to have metamorphosed into a daunting endeavour. It was one thing to lose oneself in tales of princesses or the adventures of chiselled, sun-kissed heroes, but an entirely different ordeal to grapple with the intricate world of potion brewing.

For (y/n), the allure of fantasy books or any literary work was nothing short of enchanting, capable of whisking her away on wings of imagination. These volumes, she devoured with unbridled speed. Yet, a profound disinterest surged within her when it came to the theoretical tomes packed with knowledge mirroring the lectures she endured. If she were to be entirely frank, she might even admit a smidgen of disdain for these volumes.

So she would never take them to the dorms with her — she would much rather read them in the library, filled with other students. The presence of others functioned as a gentle but firm tether, binding her to the task at hand – reading, absorbing, and taking notes. The collective energy of focused minds bolstered her resolve.

Alas, a rather desolate air hung over the library's expanse on this day.

Thrice (y/n) had shifted her position, seeking companionship in proximity, only for her hopes to be dashed within thirty minutes. A sigh, tinged with resignation, escaped her lips, and in that crestfallen moment, a shock of crimson manifested in her field of vision. A pair of vibrant red-headed twins strode in. Nestled at the tables near the corridor's entrance, she watched them meander, their steps unhurried, eyes wandering. “Searching," her inner voice concluded. Certainly, the twins held a more potent allure than the secrets of cauldron cleaning or its ilk, a fact her current book seemed intent on imparting.

Though (y/n) watched from her vantage point, removed yet intrigued, the twins' presence would've caught anyone's attention had there been any other student around. As their gaze swept the expanse, (y/n)'s musings dipped into the realm of speculation, imagining the myriad thoughts dancing behind those crimson veils.

In a place where solitude was typically her archenemy, she now sat pondering the enigma of the Weasley twins, the allure of their presence momentarily overshadowing the dusty tomes that lay before her.

Fred and George stood at a distance, too far for (y/n) to gain a comprehensive view. Instead, they ambulated the space with a purpose that eluded onlookers – a relentless quest for something unbeknownst to her. As they wandered, their forms flickered in and out of her view, now one visible, then none, then both, and once more only one boy.

Fixated on the one nearer her, she strained her vision to discern. Could it be Fred? A question played a merry dance in her mind, teasing but refusing to commit to a definitive answer. His profile was turned towards the shelves, a curtain of red hair obscuring details. Besides, distinguishing the twins remained a daunting task without a survey of their noses.

Abruptly, a voice infiltrated her thoughts, causing her to startle in her seat, “You know we saw you, right?”

She swivelled around, only to be met by the missing twin positioned just behind her. Leaning over her chair's backrest, he inclined his head inquisitively, a solitary auburn eyebrow arching with playful curiosity. Witnessing her wide-eyed astonishment, the Weasley released a soft, subdued chuckle, a mischievous symphony woven into the sound. “If you want my brother's number, you can just ask,” he added.

So the one talking to her was Fred. She quickly glanced at his nose bridge, trying to see the intricated details left by a Quidditch match gone wrong, yet his voice functioned as the telltale sign. He audacity to issue such a provocative remark to a girl with whom they held only the most tenuous of connections – that could only be Fred's doing. Moreover, his tone carried a specific timbre distinct from George's. It was, for lack of a better word, smoother to her auditory senses. Not that George's voice was anything less than agreeable, but his was a quieter, more reserved resonance. She mused that her lack of familiarity with George's vocal cadence stemmed from his status as the quieter half of the duo, while Fred's unending stream of chatter had made his vocal imprint indelible in her ears.

A manufactured laugh escaped her lips, a tinkling facade, "Haha, Weasley. I don't want no one's number."

Fred inclined his head, a bemused glint in his eyes as if coaxing her to reveal more.

Nestled more comfortably in her chair, she raised her chin a fraction, a silent assertion that she was unreservedly facing the boy. This small shift seemed to foster a sense of openness between them.

"Studying is boring, so you guys looked like a distraction," she declared with a nonchalant shrug.

His voice dripped with theatrical incredulity, “We? A distraction?” Fred's lips curled into a playful smile, his head tilting as he leaned slightly away. He stood tall, towering over most, a fact he seemingly embraced with ease. Though his height wasn't sufficient to overshadow Ron (a surprise, really), it cast a considerable shadow over (y/n), particularly in her seated state. The disparity in stature unfolded in a tableau that her neck found almost physically taxing to endure.

With the book held closer to her chest, (y/n) drew a deep breath, her response tinged with a touch of exasperation, “Honestly, anything is a preferable pursuit than deciphering 'how to brew... a potion.'” Her fingers clutched the book, the page title a weighty secret she held close, refusing to vocalise it aloud.

An unexpected shift occurred as Fred commandeered the neighbouring chair, situating it with a proximity that nudged their personal space. “And weirdly enough," he said. Lowering himself into the seat, he offered a sly grin, his gaze steady upon her, “You always get good grades at Snape's classes.” A movement almost imperceptible – a twitch of the head, a hint of satisfaction – played upon his features.

(y/n) registered the proximity with an awareness that tickled her senses. The book, her veiled treasure, lay nestled in her grasp, poised for closure to deter prying eyes.

She shrugged, expecting him to forget what she held close, “I'm Slytherin, after all.”

“Ah,” Fred snapped his tongue in the roof of his mouth, a sound almost as if he had drunk something and was now satisfied.

Shifting her gaze quickly at George, she hoped he would come to her rescue and take his twin away.

“Not so fast,” Fred interjected, his large hand sweeping down to rest atop the book's cover. “What secrets are you hiding there?”

Her gaze flitted from his eyes to his hand, a growing wariness churning within her. Her fingers tensed around the book, futilely attempting to shield its contents. But deftly, the book was relinquished from her hold and into his.

His melodious voice breathed life into the words etched on the page, “Let's unravel this mystery... 'How to Brew a Love Potion,'” he read aloud, his playful and teasing tone. Amusement twinkled in his eyes as they danced up to meet hers. “Wow, (y/n), I'd never take you for one who needed a love potion.”

To match his wit, (y/n) maintained her playful gaze, a smirk curving her lips as her retort unfurled, “Oh, I don't know, Fred. Perhaps that's my secret to acing Snape's classes.”

Not even the weight of dark humour could ruffle Fred Weasley's composure. His smirk swelled, infused with a brew of mischief that danced in his eyes. “If that's the case, you're terrible at it. I distinctly recall a certain incident involving Snape's homework, and if memory serves, it nearly rendered you floundering.”

She averted her gaze, her attention shifting to the captured book still cradled within his hands, the prospect of regaining it receding into the distance.

“Thanks for the recall, top-tier student,” she quipped, a playful glint in her eyes. “Now, are you willing to tell me your secrets? What are you doing here, in the library?”

Fred's laughter danced like a secret melody, an intimate note that lingered in the air, his eyes shimmering with a clandestine glimmer. “What's life without a little mystery?” he joked, his voice a velvety caress.

She mirrored his stance, a symmetrical lean that brought them closer, the gap between their faces now an invitation. Their proximity wove a delicate tapestry between their banter and a realm of deeper connection. ��Is that so?” she inquired, her words drawn out in a languid purr, the air heavy with a mingling of intrigue and allure.

He matched her pace without the need to ask. The dance of their words had woven a tapestry of amusement, their shared enjoyment eclipsing the pursuit of concrete answers. After all, Fred barely had learned a secret. He was smart enough to know (y/n)'s book had been opened on a random page.

“If I tell you why I'm here,” he mused; his gaze, which had been steadfastly locked onto her eyes, dared trace a path to her lips, “what will you give me in return?”

(y/n) thought herself very wicked when her answer came quickly, “A love potion?” she playfully suggested.

His smile faltered, his breathing taking on a deeper rhythm, a transformation she couldn't help but notice.

“I don't need that,” he purred, voice dipping lower, “however, you...”

An eye-roll framed her response, though she didn't retreat from his proximity.

“Weasley...” her voice began, her tone laden with a mix of exasperation and uncertainty, an attempt to convey a sentiment she was grappling to articulate.

“Fred,” he interjected, the word a soft murmur, his eyes holding hers earnestly. Noticing her bemusement, he continued with a gentle lilt, “Call me Fred.”

She processed his words, pondering the significance of calling him by his name instead of his surname – a departure from the collective label that often accompanied the Weasley clan around Hogwarts.

A nervous throat clearing preceded her tentative utterance, “Fred." She tested the name as if savouring the syllables as if she did not know it before.

Flirting was an uncharted territory for (y/n), a realm she now tiptoed into, fueled by trepidation and exhilaration.

“Lucian Flewchief's book.”

The words hung suspended, (y/n)'s brow furrowing as she sought to decipher their meaning. Was that Fred’s way of flirting back? Suggesting a book? (y/n) was puzzled. That was a new way of flirting she never knew of, but she hoped the book was some young adult fae fantasy.

Fred's perception of her confusion prompted him to lean back slightly, dissipating the cosy bubble they'd woven. He clarified, “That's our objective here – locating Lucian Flewchief's book."

Her understanding unfurled with an "oh" of realisation, the pieces clicking into place.

“We're also the reason behind the library's current solitude,” he continued, an impish glint in his eyes. “George and I orchestrated a bit of a distraction to ensure we could slip away without drawing any undue attention, Godric forbid, with a book in tow!”

So that explained why she was the only one lingering at the library. Though it made sense, it stirred a tinge of melancholy within her.

Curiosity nudged her to question further, her tone now coloured with intrigue. “Who is this guy? Flewchief? And why the necessity for secrecy around his book?” Her queries were genuine and earnest, though sadness crept into her voice as their playful exchange segued into a more sober dialogue.

Fred swayed his head before replying, “He's a master at pranks.”

An eyebrow arched in response, (y/n)'s curiosity unabated. While she may not have been an expert in the art of pranking, one would expect to have heard of such a renowned figure, right?

Observing her perplexity, Fred inhaled deeply before disclosing, his voice lowered almost to a whisper, “He's a muggle author.”

Recognition flashed across (y/n)'s face, though she remained silent. Yet, subtle shifts in her posture – a subtle sag of her shoulders, a slight tightening of her lips – betrayed a sentiment that did not escape Fred's notice. He understood the Slytherin disposition all too well; prejudices were not uncommon.

She unravelled a piece of herself with an unexpected candour, her words confounding Fred's expectations. Instead of disparaging comments or dismissing glances, she offered something else entirely.

“I want to be a writer for muggles,” she confessed, her voice tinged with vulnerability. “I like to write fantasy, you know. But that's not a genre for wizards; our reality often rivals the most fantastical of fiction. So, my focus turns toward the muggle readers.”

Though caught off guard by the revelation, Fred remained silent, feeling a surge of admiration for her. He hadn't anticipated such a response.

“I can help you find Flewchief's book,” she offered, swiftly transitioning past the exposure of her own secret, determined not to let her cheeks flush with embarrassment. “I know this library well, particularly the section reserved for muggle authors. I presume you and George have little familiarity with the place.”

A crooked smile curled upon his lips in response. “Indeed,” he admitted with a chuckle, “you could even say 'no familiarity'; it's quite fitting.”

While (y/n) couldn't quite fathom how any student or individual could navigate life without venturing into the depths of a library, she empathized with their unfamiliarity. The muggle literature section was cloaked in segregation as if Hogwarts itself was disconcerted by such volumes.

Rising from her seat, she gathered her assortment of potion books. Truth be told, she harboured no illusions about accomplishing any meaningful research that afternoon. She left only one book behind – the one currently cradled in Fred's grasp.

“Are you coming or…?" Her voice hung in the air, a hint of playful theatricality accompanying her question.

Promptly, Fred sprang from his chair, the solitary book still in his possession. With (y/n) as his guide, they embarked on a journey through the library's labyrinthine aisles. Initially, they returned her stack of books to Madam Irma Pince, whose sole acknowledgement was a fleeting glance, her eyes flitting over the pile as it landed on her counter. Her gaze flickered momentarily as if recognition finally settled in at the sight of the redheaded companion beside (y/n).

“A Weasley," Madam Irma Pince declared, her observation stating the obvious. Fred, however, found himself grappling with an appropriate response. Ultimately, he opted for a shrug, his head tilting in acquiescence.

“I’m Fred,” he offered, his voice laced with a touch of formality. “But, you are absolutely correct, I am a Weasley."

It was abundantly clear that the librarian was well aware of which Weasley he was.

“Don’t tear my books apart,” she cautioned, her voice edged with warning. “And don’t you dare burn this place down.”

Fred's lips pressed into a tight line, his nostrils flaring ever so slightly. He responded with a curt, “Noted."

(y/n) glanced up at Fred and then to the side, studying his expression. His tone left her somewhat perplexed – she couldn't discern if he was indulging in sarcastic provocation or if he held genuine offence at Madam Irma Pince's admonitions. She reflected that the torrent of criticisms from every adult figure must have been tiring. Yet, the twins hadn't acquired their notoriety by chance; their reputation as school pranksters was well-earned.

The three exchanged furtive glances before Madam Irma Pince averted her gaze to her counter. Her intentions, on the other side, remained veiled to (y/n). Fred possessed the capability to peek, but (y/n) held doubts about him exercising that prerogative.

Clearing her throat, (y/n) eased away from the librarian, and Fred followed suit.

“Take me to George,” she requested. Detecting Fred's immediate confusion, she elaborated, “So both of you can scour the shelves for the books. I can assist, but I'm not quite tall enough to reach all of the shelves.”

“Again," Fred inclined his head toward her, and at that moment, a subtle shift occurred, the playful dance of flirtation vanishing as swiftly as it had emerged, “Thank you for the assistance”. His expression was appreciative, genuine, a quiet acknowledgement of her assistance.

With a soft smile, she replied, “Don't mention it," her voice bearing a hushed quality, her gaze evading direct eye contact. “You’ll just own me one.”

He chuckled, “Uh, the unspoken possibilities.”

Indeed, Fred. Indeed.

It was a rather cold day.

But it was Saturday and Hogsmeade trip day, so (y/n) put on her thickest coat and decided to face the snow.

Her fellow housemates buzzed with excitement, eagerly anticipating the visit. Yet, for (y/n), this outing held a more sombre purpose – a pilgrimage to Honeydukes. While her friends were pursuing quills and ingredients, (y/n) sought only solace in candy. These past few days had been trying, and the kitchen house elves had quietly declared her persona non grata, etching “no longer welcomed" onto their secret walls. So she’d have to buy her own sweets from now on.

“Feeling hot today?” a voice chimed from behind (y/n).

She clutched herself, attempting to stave off the relentless cold. Hogsmeade always exuded a chill, but it seemed that nature was intent on pushing the mercury even lower today. Not even her trusty coat could entirely repel the biting wind.

The voice was familiar; she recognised it as belonging to Fred Weasley.

“Where’s your other half?” she asked, noticing George wasn’t around.

“At the school,” Fred replied, bridging the distance with a few long strides. Given the frigid weather, (y/n) moved slowly, rivalling the old ladies of Diagon Alley. “He's caught the flu.”

A chuckle escaped (y/n), though her amusement was laced with empathy. “After today, I might end up just as sick.”

Fred mirrored her laughter, his eyes gleaming with a twinkle. Then, shifting his gaze towards their right, his expression became more earnest. “Come on, let’s get you something warm. Tea?”

True to his suggestion, Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop loomed just a few steps away.

(y/n) scanned her surroundings, from Fred to the inviting facade of the shop, and for a fleeting moment, the idea appealed to her. But then, a mental alarm sounded – this place was renowned for romantic trysts, a haven for couples from their year. For a time, (y/n) had considered herself above such traditions. But as her sixteenth birthday came and went, and she remained unattached, she longed for the experience of a boy inviting her to tea. Now, at eighteen, it seemed more a fanciful dream than a tangible possibility.

So Fred was definitely not suggesting it as a date.

“I actually have to head to Honeydukes,” she replied, her features arranged in a grimace, and she gestured with her body towards the store at the far end of the bustling Hogsmeade street. “That's the only reason I'm still here.”

Fred bit his lip in thought. “How about we grab a tea to go, then?” he proposed, his determination unwavering. He peered down at her, shivering in the cold, taking in her petite frame. “In less than fifteen minutes, you'll be on your way back to Hogwarts.”

The notion of sipping on something piping hot was increasingly appealing.

“Promise?” she asked, her tone a touch childlike.

Fred extended his pinky finger, encased in a slightly faded red glove – likely a Weasley hand-me-down. Not that (y/n) considered herself entitled or wealthy, but it was common knowledge that the Weasleys weren't the richest in monetary terms. Yet, they were undeniably wealthy in children.

Her own pinky fingers remained nestled deep within her pockets, safe from the cold. Fred glanced down and chuckled.

“Come on.”

She sighed, “Fine, Weasley. But you're footing the bill,” and when she noticed he was about to playfully protest, she added, “You were the one who insisted, after all.”

They walked together, resembling a pair of penguins navigating the icy terrain. (y/n)’s hands, nestled within her coat pockets, were shielded from the biting cold, yet their elbows still grazed one another now and then as they strolled leisurely.

Fred gallantly held the door open, allowing her to enter the cosy shop, and she expressed her gratitude in a soft murmur. While he proceeded to the counter to place their order (when queried, (y/n) simply requested, “Any tea will do, as long as it's the hottest available"), she contemplated the peculiar friendship that had taken root between them.

She'd never been an opponent of Fred, or the Weasleys, or anyone within Gryffindor, as one might have assumed. However, their closeness was a relatively recent development. When confronted with one of the twins' pranks, (y/n) was often the first to laugh, captivated by the sheer audacity of their exploits. She believed magic should be harnessed for amusement, not as a weapon; consequently, she found their approach to their magical talents endearing.

Because of her laughter, Fred and George had never targeted her with their pranks. Their mischief was generally directed at Malfoy and his ilk. Occasionally, she'd return to her common room and find something amiss, but she understood it was their way of rebelling against the entirety of Slytherin and its values rather than a personal affront.

By her fifth year, (y/n) considered Fred and George her acquaintances. They exchanged nods in the classrooms and other shared spaces. Being in the same year, she had grown accustomed to their voices and learned to differentiate between them.

Moreover, the Weasley twins had a certain charisma that she couldn't deny. She had met Fred’s older brothers before, so their good looks were no surprise. She realised this charm extended to Fred as he approached with two cups of steaming tea.

His freckles had always been a distinctive feature she admired. Yet now, she also noticed the appeal of his height, his shoulders broad and strong, typical of a Beater. His hair appeared soft and straight, inviting her fingers to run through its fiery strands, although she knew better than to entertain such notions.

Strangely, it was his nose that intrigued her the most. It was the distinguishing feature that allowed her to differentiate between Fred and George. She found it more masculine and captivating than the rest of his features. Not to mention his chest, which had once tantalisingly revealed his abs through a sweaty Quidditch shirt during a match. The sport certainly worked wonders on bodies.

“Thank you,” she said before taking a sip. She freed her hands from her pockets only with the prospect of holding something scolding hot.

Fred observed her closely as she tasted the tea, noticing how her eyes momentarily closed in bliss and how her body seemed to uncoil, the tension in her shoulders dissipating.

“All right, off to Honeydukes I go," she declared, pivoting towards the Tea Shop's exit.

Fred followed her, hastening to hold the door open once more. A subtle blush dusted her cheeks, and she was relieved that the shop was still relatively empty. A couple occupied a dimly lit corner but seemed too concentrated on each other to notice Fred Weasley being nice to a Slytherin girl. So that’s saying a lot about how entertained that random teenage couple was.

As they stepped back into the brisk Hogsmeade air, (y/n) noticed that Fred was still at her side. She didn't voice any complaint, though. Ever since the day he had sought her help at the library, she had resigned herself to the idea that she might never get the opportunity to converse with Fred alone again. George was always around, and if not him, then someone else. And even though, if she tried, (y/n) could engage in conversation with the other twin or with a Gryffindor student, she would rather not.

In fact, it was rare to find someone she would like to engage in conversation with.

Fred was a… welcoming surprise.

“Uh," Fred's voice cut through the silence, which had settled between them as they enjoyed their tea, “can we make a quick stop here?"

They were passing by Zonko's Joke Shop, renowned for its extensive collection of prankster essentials. Of course, the shop would undoubtedly be on Fred's daily checklist. However, his request to pause at the store intrigued (y/n), given that she had never envisioned walking with him that day. Sure, he had treated her to tea, but that hardly counted as an expense, and she had mentioned her eagerness to return to Hogwarts promptly.

“It won't take long, I promise," he assured her, taking note of her delayed response. “Just add five more minutes to your wait. I'll escort you back, no worries."

(y/n) hesitated for a moment. “You really don't have to do that," she replied, taken aback by his gentlemanly offer.

“As if I'd let you make the journey alone."

She gazed at him in the wake of his response. “I'm a witch," she pointed out the obvious. “It's not like I can't handle a few dangers."

Fred cocked his head, a teasing remark on the tip of his tongue. “Can you defend yourself against the cold?"

She didn't respond; her answer would have been a resounding ‘no.'

“That's what I thought," he declared, a knowing smile dancing on his lips.

She arched an eyebrow, her free hand resting on her hip, her other still cradling her tea. “And what can you do to protect me from the cold?" she challenged Fred.

His smile grew, and he knew he had the perfect response. “Keep you from slipping on the icy ground."

Annoyed by his accuracy, she sighed loudly as they entered the joke shop.

The shop was bubbling with people: it was a living organism. (y/n) struggled to recall the last time she had set foot in this place. She had certainly visited the joke shop before, back in her third year when students were first allowed to venture into the village. Like her peers, she had eagerly explored every store without exception. However, as time passed, most of the shops had become familiar and somewhat ordinary to her. She only made the trip to Hogsmeade with a purpose now. Coming just for butterbeer seemed pointless, especially when she lacked the company of friends to sit with and share laughter.

So, following Fred Weasley as he browsed around the shop put her in a silent trance of observation and gaping. He moved confidently, searching for items and locating them quickly, with the same precision she'd demonstrated when she'd guided him through the library the other day. (y/n) followed at his heels, like a child following its guardian. In less than three minutes, they were already in line to pay.

“How do you know where everything is?" she asked, enjoying the moment of calm the checkout line offered. “I don't think gathering all that took you more than five minutes."

And it was indeed quite a haul. Fred's two hands cradled dozens of boxes and items like precious cargo in his lap. The teacup he had been carrying was now held securely by (y/n), ensuring that her hands were occupied with warm objects to fend off the cold.

Fred responded with a casual shrug to her question. “How do you know where all the books are in the library?" he countered.

“I don't know," she replied, her response unfiltered. “I guess I've just memorised it over time."

“Me too," he said, his eyes fixed on the shop as if watching his beloved. “Not to give reason to my fame at Hogwarts, but of course, my favourite shop has to be Zonko’s."

The line at the checkout stretched long, leaving (y/n) and Fred standing in contemplative silence, pondering the curious connection that seemed to be budding between them. Amid it all, (y/n)'s thoughts swelled like a bubbling potion. Were they friends now? Could she consider adding him to her list of friends for Christmas shopping? These questions lingered, but she found herself without a clear answer. It felt odd to directly ask such a thing; friends didn’t ask if they were friends. They either were or weren’t, organically becoming over time.

But despite the comfort she felt around Fred, she couldn't quite label it friendship. The issue, she concluded, was her own. She had a deficit of friends and now understood why: she wasn't wired for it. Friendship wasn't part of her programming. Fred, on the other hand, was a different breed. Friendship was his natural state, woven into his very essence. He exuded a friendly aura, even if many Slytherins would vehemently disagree.

She didn't need to wonder whether he considered her a friend. He most likely did. He never targeted her with pranks; he exchanged glances with her in class often and was currently offering to escort her back to school. Fred saw her as a friend.

But did she want that?

“What are you thinking?” he inquired, pulling her out of her contemplative reverie.

“Nothing.”

“That’s a lie,” he said, relaxing his shoulders. “I can see the smoke coming out of your ears like a cauldron.”

She had no clever reply, so she was content with wrinkling her forehead and lying. “I’m thinking about how quickly I will be able to get all the candy I want. Definitely not as quick as you, here.”

He frowned, puzzled. “Why?”

“I love candy and definitely know where everything is at the shop,” she explained, tilting her head unconsciously as she spoke. She explained, unconsciously tilting her head while talking. “But I have to gather enough to last until our next trip to Hogsmeade, and I'm not certain I can calculate that. I love chocolate, so one would assume I'd need to buy a lot to make it last. However, if I get too much, I'll eat more than I should. And trust me, I will eat everything I buy," she concluded with a hint of warning in her tone, as if she were issuing a threat rather than sharing a piece of information.

Fred swallowed hard, trying to wrap his head around her unique thought process. “Are you stockpiling sweets?"

She nodded, feeling a twinge of embarrassment.

“Well, if you do end up eating it all, I'll show you where to get more, you know, from the kitchen with the house elves," he said, the corner of his mouth quirking up as if he were secretly pleased with himself for sharing this tidbit.

“Oh, Weasley," she shook her head, dramatically feigning pitifulness. “I already know the secret passage to the kitchen. That's precisely why I have to stockpile chocolate in the first place. I've been painted as a criminal there for how many sweets I've pilfered."

He couldn't help but chuckle, though he kept it discreet.

“I can't believe it," Fred said with mock disbelief, then paused as if pondering again. “Well, actually, I can."

With the two cups of tea-to-go in her hands, she raised her shoulders in a half-shrug while raising her hands in tandem.

“So yeah," she concluded, “I have to stock up until the Professors allow us to come here again."

Staring at him, (y/n) couldn't help but think that Fred was on the verge of saying something. However, something must have caused him to change his mind, and he remained uncharacteristically silent. A few seconds later, he was called to the cashier to settle the bill for his items. (y/n) patiently waited behind him, casually sipping her tea.

When Fred returned to her side, the numerous small boxes he'd been clutching had been consolidated into just two cardboard bags, which he effortlessly carried in one hand. The two of them exited the joke shop, savouring the last remnants of their teas. By the time they reached Honeydukes, the cups had already been discreetly disposed of in the nearest bin.

“Have fun," he wished her warmly, courteously holding the door of the candy shop open for her to enter. (y/n) returned his friendly sentiment with a smile—precisely the sort of well-wishing one would expect before embarking on a shopping spree in a candy store.

Fred lingered in a quiet corner of the shop, surreptitiously observing as she gleefully navigated the aisles, carefully selecting her candies and placing them into a plastic basket a diligent store employee offered. She appeared far more animated here than he had ever seen her before—back in the library, she had come across as somewhat bored, and the same was true in their shared classes. While she undeniably held the status of a top student with excellent grades, Fred couldn't help but wonder why she seemed to lack the enthusiasm and focus he might have expected from someone of her academic calibre.

However, gathering her desired assortment of sweets took considerably longer than the five minutes Fred had initially anticipated. When he finally met up with her at the cashier, the man behind the counter handed over not one, not two, but three full bags of assorted candies and confections.

Fred couldn't help but jest, “Wow, someone's clearly outdone me."

“Mine's supposed to last longer," she retorted with a wry smile, determined to maintain her composure.

Fred's grin only broadened. "Will it, though?"

There was no malice behind his teasing; his natural inclination was to engage in playful banter, a habit he would have indulged with George, Ginny, or anyone else. If anything, he found himself enjoying the camaraderie that was forming between them, appreciating the quick-witted exchanges that characterised their interactions. And (y/n)'s response was predictable by now—a blend of half-anger and half-challenge that had come to define her expressions.

They left the candy store, their playful back-and-forth continuing as they walked, with Fred progressively leaning in closer with each exchange.

Fred's next question unintentionally left (y/n) feeling mortified as they approached the Three Broomsticks.

“Are you sure you don’t want a good, old butterbeer?” he asked. “It’s alright if you do. I won’t linger at your friends’ table; I’ll just drop you there and find Oliver Wood or someone else.” He said, using Oliver as an example, for he was the one name he remembered to have seen around the village.

It was weird, now that Fred had come to think of it, how he did not recall seeing one person from Hogwarts around Hogsmeade, even though he knew it was a crowded day there.

She had no friends to meet there or anywhere else. She cleared her throat, avoiding eye contact, “I don't have friends in there."

The proximity to the inn allowed them a clear view through the frosty windows, revealing the familiar faces of fellow students enjoying butterbeer.

“Why? Haven't they come to Hogsmeade?" Fred asked in surprise, momentarily distracted by the scene inside. “I swear that's Carmen Highland if my eyes aren't deceiving me," he remarked, gazing at the occupants within.

Lost in the sight of her former friends, Fred hadn't noticed that (y/n) was gradually distancing herself from him. She knew Carmen and recognised the other kids at her table — Andrea, Miniu, and Shenny. But they weren't friends anymore.

At least, not anymore.

“It is Carmen,” she reassured him, in case Fred would start considering he was indeed blind. “We’re just not friends, though.”

Fred finally snapped out of gazing through the cold glass window and returned his gaze to her.

“I distinctly remember all of you being quite lively at dinners and walking around classes," he said, furrowing his brows. “Unless Carmen has look-alikes I'm unaware of, I'm certain it's her. I've seen her during my Quidditch practices, competing for the pitch."

A smile tinged with embarrassment danced on (y/n)'s lips. She smiled not because she was pleased with the memories but because she was trying to conceal her inner gloom. “I used to walk with Carmen, and Miniu, and Andrea and Shenny. But that was way before.”

“No, I…”

“It was, Freddie,” she interrupted before he made her remember another memory. It was only because of her use of his nickname that he understood she wasn’t alright. “We were friends in the first year. Us and a bunch of other kids, so tight together because we were Slytherin, and we had to stick together because then we’d be victims of bullying from other houses.” Fred opened his mouth, but she continued, “Don’t deny it.”

Fred sighed and nodded.

“In our second year, the group started to shrink, and it ended up being just me and that table," she explained, her gaze distant, as if the memories were playing out before her eyes. "But I began to feel like I was there because I forced myself to be. I was being pushy. So when I stopped going, they didn't chase after me. That's when it became clear to me what our relationship was."

“What was it?" Fred inquired, genuinely perplexed, prompting (y/n) to wonder if he had ever experienced the abrupt end of a friendship.

“They weren't my friends," (y/n) stated matter-of-factly. “We didn't have a falling out or anything. I still greet them, and occasionally, we help each other with homework in the common room. But that's about it."

Fred pursed his lips thoughtfully, pondering the right words to respond with.

“Alright," he finally conceded. “I won't pry further," he said, his expression more serious now. “I can't quite fathom how a friendship could simply unravel like that, but it's clear it's not a cheerful matter. However, that doesn't mean you can't be with your other friends."

She rolled her eyes with exasperation and turned away from Fred and the entrance of the Three Broomsticks, her boots crunching softly in the freshly fallen snow.

“I don't have friends," she sighed, her breath visible in the crisp, wintry air. She could hear his footsteps, somehow always close behind.

Fred waited until he was walking right alongside her before he replied; his tone was soft and comforting. “You have me," he said, then hastily cleared his throat. “I mean, you have us. Me and George. I still owe you one from our library escapade."

“Consider it settled," she responded, her voice edged with a hint of exhaustion and her gaze averted. “You gave me a cup of tea, after all."

“That was just courtesy," Fred explained, his lips curving into a friendly smile, thinking their usual playful banter had resumed.

But (y/n) was weary, and it showed in her demeanour.

“Well, you're accompanying me back to the school," she tried again, her tone tinged with finality. “So consider that debt paid."

“Nah," he waved his free hand dismissively. “That's just me being a proper gentleman."

She rolled her eyes once more, a flicker of irritation crossing her features. “Fred..."

“We're friends, alright," he insisted, his tone gentle yet resolute, raising his voice slightly. “You have a friend... in me."

Without warning, (y/n) halted in her tracks, pivoting to face him fully, her expression a mixture of astonishment, incredulity, and a hint of amusement.

“Did you just quote a Muggle movie at me?" she asked, her voice showing disbelief.

“I’m sorry?”

“‘You have a friend in me’,” she repeated his words, this time adding a melody to her tone. “Did you quote the Toy Story song?”

“A toy story? Where is it?” he was genuinely confused, which led (y/n) to drop the subject since it was evident he had no idea what she was talking about.

“Never mind," she sighed, resuming her pace. “It's from a Muggle movie."

“And you've seen it?" Fred's stride matched hers again, his curiosity piqued.

“Unfortunately," she replied, her lips twisting in mild distaste. “I didn't quite enjoy it."

“Oh, why not?" Fred inquired with interest.

“It was... about friendship," she said, taking a moment to complete her sentence.

“I see," Fred mused, nodding thoughtfully as they walked towards the school, the snow beneath their feet offering a soft, comforting crunch with every step. “Perhaps I should watch it.”

“Yeah, why not,” she replied, not really wanting to participate in the conversation.

Fred knew when to shut up when he should, so they remained silent until the school entrance was visible.

“Uh, thank you,” (y/n) told him as they stopped in the middle of Hogwarts’ entrance corridor. It was a relatively empty hallway.

“See you around,” he nodded, and she bit her lip, turning her heels towards her House. “Friend,” Fred added a second later, only to see her turn her gaze over her shoulder.

“Bye, Weasley,” she said with a heavy breath out of resignation.

#fred weasley #fred and george #harry potter #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x slytherin reader #fred weasley smut #fred weasley fanfic

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v7lgar · 6 months ago

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okay so i overslept today sad story ik ik but anyway i was thinking about ur james (i love him) how do u think he would spend his morning before and after regulus came to his life?

damnn this such a nice question chris im kissing ur brain

BEFORE REGULUS im avoiding to give any spoilers but james had a dull life, he has depression and ocd (like me) and lemme remind u he also has ADHD so if he isn’t hyperfixating on smth considers himself as a walking zombie. some days he doesn’t even consider leaving the bed, or sometimes he goes on walks and observes the city and the ppl. he sometimes draws, doing little sketches but that’s all. he smokes out of boredom and it became a habit really soon but yeah he had a boring life before regulus that’s for sure. he didn’t have any ambition

AFTER REGULUS james stars waking up early and gets his coffee bcuz now he has a trouble sleeping. his ocd is triggered bcuz of regulus and he can’t function like a normal person. his every thought is related to regulus and he can’t spend a second without thinking him and that’s why he wants to see regulus all the time bcuz if he can’t that means his obsessive thoughts becomes overbearing but regulus also gave him a purpose to live. now he wants to follow his every step and he needs to make sure he is not in danger. he stalks him all day until he suddenly pass outs cuz of lack of sleep but when he wakes up he tries to find regulus again so he checks every corner that regulus at least passed one time until he finds him and then he can start breathing again

#agon answers #chris tag #james potter #trans james potter #regulus black #jegulus #fic: where you go i go #i love asks like this #makes me wanna talk and talk

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year ago

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Hellooo!<3 I

So I was hoping if maybe I could get some head cannons of Bi-Han having a s/o who has ADHD, his s/o has medicine for their ADHD they just don’t take it simply out of spite. His s/o could be found being bored by like almost everything, but the second you give his s/o for example paint in a bag they will be quiet for hours on end just messing and playing with it.

Is this accurate to the adhd experience? Probably not. Did I claim it would? Nope, I didn’t guarantee anything as i don’t know how adhd actually works. So take this with an EXTREME grain of salt cuz most of the info comes from the nhs website. 🦦

Ooc Bi-Han? None of this fitting his character? Probably so but I’m too tired to even care. 🦦

Bi-Han was made well aware that you hated taking your meds and would even straight up act coy when the topic on whether or not you had taken your meds came up. So much so that he’d probably see to it that you do take your medication on time but seeing as he was Grandmaster, he’s not granted the time to monitor your medication, seeing as how you often refuse to take it out of spite. (Not babying. Never babying, your a grown ass adult.)

So he’s grown use to seeing you lying on the floor, staring up at the ceiling in pure boredom, feeling every single second that painfully passed you by that even minutes felt like hours and hours felt like days to you with how fucking bored out of your mind you were. Nothing you did held your attention long enough to satisfy that part of your brain, not the games on your phone that you lost interest in second after downloading, not reading as you could barely get past the prologue never less the first chapter; not even the toys that you purposefully bought for this exact reason got couldn’t satiate your brain.

On a side note who reads prologues anyway? I know I don’t cuz I’d rather get straight into it.

You were so fucking bored that even saying that that you were bored was becoming boring in of itself. But Bi-Han knew of your one weakness; paint in a bag. An even bigger weakness of yours would be if the bag contained two or more different colours that make an entirely new colour when messed with enough.

Or even the kind where you get to choose how many colours you want to put in the bag and go fucking apeshit with it to your hearts content. For the physical changing of the colours were both equally fascinating and captivating that you could go at it for hours on end and not grown bored.

Bi-Han accommodates you however he can, changing up when needed and when you’ve grown tired of certain things that once held your interest. He knows he can be a dick sometimes but never when his beloved is in need to help them throughout the day. So when he had given the bag of paint, you were immediately zoned in moulding the colours together and spreading the paint as far into the corners as you possibly could, and all without an word passing from your lips as your brows furrowed in concentration like you were making a masterpiece.

Anyways, Bi-Han is well aware of your inability to finish a task, so naturally what you put down to pursue other tasks, he picks up and finishes for you. He’s your calm and he would never hold anything against you…unless it actively puts you in danger then that’s an entirely different thing entirely.

He’s also the person who seemingly knows where everything you put is and so whenever you ask for the whereabouts of your keys, your shoes, socks, whatever. Bi-Han would always direct you as to where they are or just keep ahold of them until you inevitably ask and you press a kiss to his cheek in gratitude.

During situations where you’re in deep stress or in need of an outlet, he’ll get you your paint in a bag to help you destress and let out any frustrations your had onto mushing the paint together forcefully. If it helps you during times of boredom then he believes that it will also help you in times of stress and discomfort.

You and Bi-Han were so different from one another that you just work well together, you honestly had no clue where you’d be without Bi-Han being the more levelheaded of the two of you in certain stimuli and being a massive help with your frequent bouts of boredom, your inability of prioritisation, and everything else your ADHD came along with.

He withheld an extreme amount of patience, probably from all the training he’s done his entire life and the lessons he’s learn from them about timing and all that. So when you interrupt him, he just lets you speak your entirety without making you feel like shit about it; but to Bi-Han if you wanted to speak, then he’ll let you speak and listen to you fully to everything you said.

Everyone wants to be listens to right?

Bi-Han would also probably act as your personal reminder, writing down or verbally telling you things that you had clearly forgotten that you were doing some days, whether that be appointments if, you have them, hangouts with friends, date plans, etc. you found it fascinating how he could remember so many dates, times, events and other things you’ve agreed to in the past as you’d naturally forget; or if ever on the off chance you do remember but just come extremely late or on the wrong day.

Bi-Han is use to lonesome and monochrome cold silences but when you entered his life, it was like he could see, taste and feel the colour of life warning his ice cold heart. He wasn’t use to it but overtime he found himself not wanting to go back to the life he lived before you, not realising how desperate for company he was until he was devoid of it.

Will he admit it to you though? No, he’s got a reputation to uphold after all but that don’t he won’t shows he cares in other ways.

Ignore if you don’t agree; Things that I’d like to think are in the same vein as paint in a bag or things that would defiantly hold me up for a good while:

Lava lamps

Liquid floor tiles

Water filled stress tube toys (especially the bigger ones that have like glitter and all sorts in them. I want one now. :( )

Pens that have the liquid stuff in them. (we all know your not buying them cuz they’re pens but for the entertainment value that the liquid gives. I should know cuz I use to have a lot of them as a kid. My go to pen for obvious reasons.)

#mk x you #mk imagine #mk imagines #mk x reader #mk x y/n #mortal kombat 1 x reader #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat imagine #mortal kombat imagines #bi han imagines #bi han imagine #bi han x reader #sub zero x reader

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wawawawawawawawawawawawawa · 1 year ago

Text

i'm on my aspd izaya bullshit again but like. thru this lens, isnt his arc a perfect encapsulation on how aspd negatively affects the person that has it? even to this day, many professionals do not believe that pwASPD suffer from aspd. like at all. to the point where aspd was specifically listed as an outlier to the "patient distress is what defines a disorder" rule in an abnormal psych textbook

(see why i don't respect the field?)

but... he does suffer! a lot! like- remember his speech to mikado at the end of the first arc? how you need to keep evolving, keep changing in order to escape the mundane? how you have to keep going and going and going, wether it be aiming high or low?

yeah. normal people don't need to do this, izaya. you are a broken person.

but why SHOULD he be content with the mundane? the things people usually have that make them content with daily life- friends, family, a purpose, a distinct lack of extreme chronic boredom that drives you to do completely insane shit- izaya doesn't HAVE any of that!

"wait, chronic boredom?" i hear yall thinking. maybe. "isnt that an adhd thing?"

more than one disorder can have the same symptom. theres like a billion that have "want to die" as a symptom. but i dont really blame you for not knowing, its not talked about much

studies have shown that aspd and adhd are both problems with the dopamine receptors in the brain. more specifically, adhd is a chronic deficiency of dopamine, whereas with aspd, when you DO get dopamine, your brain gives you quardruple the normal amount.

studies have ALSO shown there to be a sort of... adhd to aspd pipeline. the story goes like this: you have a kid with adhd. maybe they're born like that, maybe the symptoms developed from trauma (which can happen? apparently??) anyway. kid gets abused. kid develops conduct disorder as a result of that abuse, as a natural extension of the existing adhd symptoms. they're MORE impulsive, which leads to them hurting others- and if it sets off the dopamine receptors, an abused kid starving for happiness and power is gonna chase it, no matter what. theyre like, six, they dont know anything about like. morality. all they know is, theyre sad and this makes them happy. anyway kid never gets treated, abuse continues to exasperate the symptoms, and now you have an adult with aspd, AND the original adhd diagnosis! and ptsd, which is HIGHLY comorbid with aspd! and probably another personality disorder, because you're actually statistically more likely to have two of them!

anyway! that's ONE of the ways aspd can develop from trauma, which it is Known To Do.

does any of that sound pleasant to go through? at all?

let me ask you a question:

imagine you aren't getting dopamine. maybe it's your adhd. maybe you're depressed. either way, you try to get it any way you can. wether it's throwing yourself into a hobby or a job, so the sense of satisfaction gives you dopamine, or something like drugs or gambling.

now, imagine that "rush" you felt. was Four Times Stronger.

wouldnt that compel you to do increasingly dangerous and risky shit, just to feel okay? imagine if you had no friends. imagine if this was your only way to be happy. wouldnt you, eventually, stop caring about others and only care about yourself? after all, other people have thinga like friends and a family that you don't have. they have a fallback. you only have this.

and you might say, "i'd never do that!" but every addict says that, and most eventually cross that line out of sheer desperation. and this? effectively makes you into a dopamine addict. which is dangerous! you can't just STOP... gettng dopamine....! it's necessary! but you have no help so you keep doing what youre doing. (and how could you get help? its baked into the system that people like you don't suffer. why try if youll just get burned?

anyway, back to izaya.

he's lonely. he has one friend and he sucks. he feels compelled to do these things even though he KNOWS it'll hurt him.

i stole this screenshot from some1 who insulted my friend once for something stupid <3 die

but it illustrates my point very well! does it look like he has much control over things?? he sure like to ACT like he does, but at the end of the day, he doesn't, really. he ends up spiraling more and more, doing increasingly risky and rash things, just to get his end goal... which is to die and ascend to the afterlife. a lofty goal.

aiming high, isn't he? a final, spectacular evolution.

or, it should have been.

but it wasn't.

izaya's impulses and deep desire to continue becoming more and more drastic, coupled with his lack of personal ties to anyone that could keep him from doing so....

it didn't make him ascend. it left him in a wheelchair, with chronic pain that will last his whole life.

THAT is where mental illness takes you. it doesn't make you a hollywood psychopath, reveling in the destruction you chose, of your own free will, wholly and truly, to cause. it makes you want More. no matter what, you need More. you see people content with lives worse than yours, everyone bound together with some sort of invisible thread, some sort of tie that keeps them together. a thread that missed you. your brain refuses to see people as people, thus you remain lonely forever, unsatiafied wirh company other than the superficial, because it's fun. that's all you're allowed to care about. an endless cycle of bigger and bigger actions, impulses slowly getting worse--

--and the worst part is, it tricks you into believing you ever had a choice. it tricks everyone into believing you had a choice. your suffering is worse than disregarded, to all the people you look at from your apartment, all the people you wish you could have been like.

it's nonexistant.

#durarara #izaya orihara #orihara izaya #🔥🔥 BE FUCKING NORMAL ABOUT ASPD ON THIS POST OR I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL BECOME THE JOKER ON YOUR ASS 🔥🔥#waposts #we r back with classic waposting complete w too many parentheses and paragraph breaks #peace and love on planet tumblr

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nomsfaultau · 2 months ago

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I've got an idea of putting the Fault crew into situations again.

Fault crew is just chilling (or as close as you can get to it with the amount of stress they are under constantly) when they suddenly get teleported to the backrooms. You can choose the version of backrooms if you wanna. If you're going classic then it's the empty office building with yellow carpet and fluorescent lights, like in the og picture, no creatures. If you're going with the new backrooms then good luck because there's a shit ton of levels and creatures and all that. How do they fare?

Extra questions:

1. Who's the most likely to accidentally get into the backrooms? For context you're more likely to glitch into the backrooms in places that look weird, unnatural, empty. Also places that have not been there before like extra corridors and doors.

2. Who will be able to keep their sanity for longer?

3. Will they keep together as a group? Separate? Get lost?

If you're making this into a story then you can let them leave or not whenever you see fit : )

A large part of the horror of the backrooms is of course the isolation. With the monsters, it’s an added feeling of being helpless and having nothing to defend yourself, which, the daily crew are anomalies. They aren’t defenseless in the slightest. In general I prefer the backrooms with out monsters bc I feel like it cheapens the original focus, but if the monsters are only moderate threats to the anomalies, I believe the focus on isolation still stands. So I’ll have vague references to backrooms monsters since I think they add an interesting element, almost an omen.

Because over time, scp sbi start to become the backrooms.

The Blade The Blade is least likely to get in the backrooms because it’s very hard for him to get in most human buildings already. Once there though he has a very high in mental fortitude (unless you consider the fact he might not be particularly sane to begin with). Adhd would hate the boredom but it’s better than the Foundation in that regard. Ironically the things trying to kill him would help him deal with it better since it’s something to do. As for wandering around completely isolated…honestly no different from before he went to college? Of the mortals The Blade has spent the most time completely alone since unlike Wilbur he can’t pretend to be human even a little. It’s very familiar in a way that’s bad for him, but he’s survived it once. This time he starts openly talking to the voices for company. It’s less that he loses sanity, and more that he looses civility, reverting into the feral being he once was.

The Blade hates it. It feels like back when he was a kid, pointlessly wandering, nothing more than a mindless killing machine. He’s aches for his friends and the feeling of control. He’s backsliding, he knows he is, but there’s not much he can do besides be ashamed. The Blade attacks on sight now. Too many close calls in the past, of things pretending to be people, and The Blood God thinks it’s too dangerous. He takes control of his vessel more and more. The Blade starts to wonder if there really was danger every time his body is seized, but doesn’t want to risk being wrong. Black outs are very frequent, but with little way to track time or location he scarcely notices. So, definitely depressed, but this isn’t like. A new low for him. Only difference is he isn’t struggling for more and more bodily autonomy, but just accepting it. Other survivors just consider him yet another monster to avoid, and they aren’t wrong. The best tip to deal with The Blood God is to never encounter him, and after that try to find a place too small for him to get you. After that...pray.

The Blade is the only one who could escape, if Tommy is still in the real world. When he's summoned back Philza has to stop him from just shredding everyone. The Blood God is restless, refusing to release control, bristling and lunging and still stuck in survival mode, trying to protect his vessel. It takes a long, long time for his hackles to lower.

The Blade is different. Muttering to himself constantly, always one second from lunging, prone to slipping into The Blood God for no reason at all. But he does escape, and knows he can be rehabilitated with a bit of work since he’s managed it in the past.

The others….not so much.

Tommy Tommy…already does badly when alone. Isolated forever, no end in sight? He falls apart the quickest of anyone. But for the first few days or weeks he holds together alright enough. At least, until he nearly dies and the summoning circle just. Doesn’t work. The Blade can’t save him, since you can only get into the backrooms through clipping. He’s alone and his friends are gone and it just wrecks Tommy.

If he doesn’t immediately fall into a black depression, Tommy finds safety in the cisterns. The Red spreads through the entire water area, and none of the monsters can attack him. They absolutely devour one another though, and so the place becomes almost a safe heaven from attackers unless of course you get even a drop of Red on you. Then the sanity plummets into bloodlust. Still people make rafts and boats and it’s okay ish. Like Venice but evil. If you’re in a hazmat suit it’s a very safe place. Also it’s safe if you’re alone, since it’ll wear off after awhile and there’s no one to hurt. Except, some people when Red’d fall out of their rafts and go sloshing through the Red looking for targets. Tommy usually finds them, brings them to a safe area to decontaminate. Is likely very uncomfortably physically affectionate, since isolated, mind-controlled, blood crazed survivors that ignore him are his only source of physical contact, and he's starving. So while it might only take an hour for them to decontaminate on their own...that might not account for the hours, maybe days, where Tommy is just hugging a feral survivor who doesn't really acknowledge his existence.

Once they’re decontaminated he gets them a raft and pulls them to the main island. Tommy is absolutely desperate for people. His sanity plummets the fastest of anyone when alone, so he’s chatty and pleasant and very happy to have company. And he's built up this collection of survivors, isn't it so great, you should stay.

Really, it's not a choice. Once they're on the main island he pushes the raft off to sea, so to speak. No one except for him can leave. They’re trapped in an island surrounded by blood Red waters that will steal their sanity and agency if they touch it. Tommy strands them away from their rafts, and builds up a community of such people. If anyone tries to leave at most they get nowhere, and at worst will attack others on the island. It’s completely safe from monsters, and there’s an actual community there, so it’s probably one of the best place in the backrooms. Still it’s a village of kidnapped people so like. Not the greatest coping mechanism, Toms.

Likely, Red contamination occasionally breaks out, leading to the entire island massacring each other every decade or so. Tommy is completely devastated, and then begins to gather more survivors for the next round of community.

Tubbo Tubbo is the most likely to get into the backrooms by theory of large numbers. Buncha bees everywhere poking around, likely to get sucked in. Means the overall hive is less likely to get got tho since they’d know to avoid that glitchy place. Once there, Tubbo spreads through the entire backrooms with bees constantly exploring. Trying to find a way out, supplies, safety, others. It’s a massive hit to their sanity to do so, to see everything fully. But when someone falls in Tubbo is the first to find them. The bees save anyone who is stuck, helping them avoid monsters, getting them supplies, leading them to the hive. And then once united…Tubbo subsumes them into the Hive. They have to, they need the injection of people with more sanity into the Hivemind, or they wouldn't be able to monitor so much of the backrooms and rescue more people. This would obviously be very deep into their isolation but they need to survive. And they’re saving others, since anyone they haven’t Collected is eventually killed. And all the Hive members live as long as they can keep reproducing. It's functionally immortality.

They start putting hives in various places that are safer so if others are destroyed they can recover, slowly build more and more population since you can’t starve in the backrooms so they don’t need the nutrients to support it. Even if huge chunks of them are killed they can fall back and regrow in safer levels. Over decades this becomes multiple Tubbo bodies, each replaced as it is destroyed. With so many Hive members it’s easy to have separate ones controlling various bodies. Over centuries this is them conquering certain levels and developing control of them. This leads to massive sprawling structures completely covered in honey comb. There are giant bee cells capped in wax that are filled with things. Might be larvae, or helpful items, or a growing Tubbo body, or a monster drowned in honey being slowly eaten, or tunnels to another level. Tubbo essentially becomes another layer of the backrooms.

also rip I will have to finish this later bc many thoughts

#sbi #dark sbi #sbi au #technoblade #tommyinnit #tubbo #scp tommy #scp technoblade #scp tubbo #scp au #scp #the backrooms #dsmp #sbi scp au #mcyt #fault au #ask #tw isolation #something to nom on

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blue-b-bro · 1 year ago

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Ed & Izzy POV in s1e4

(this episode is so rich I'll analyze it for the rest of my life)

I wanted to understand those two and I think I finally did [tell me if it's stupid]

So basically e4 is about Ed and Izzy stale, deteriorating relationship (duh). We start with Ed sitting next to Stede’s bed, fascinated by the man, who wasn’t impressed by his reputation, according to Izzy.

He then went to observe the sky. Izzy was looking for him everywhere (Ed just goes and does whatever he wants, not consulting with anyone, on a foreign vessel). Izzy starts talking how they are in danger and in need of a plan. Ed interrupts him, knowing what he was going to say anyway, not important, let’s talk about my brilliant plan (he cannot stop himself from sharing something he finds cool or interesting, his ideas included) (yeah, I hc adhd Ed)

Izzy is stressed about the Spaniards. They’re a real threat and it’s better to avoid any confrontation, because they don’t have much chances to win this fight. Ed ignores him. Of course he does, he doesn’t care about anything recently.

But he can’t just drop the topic, not this time! Fine, he will play along, as long as they can finally talk about the important stuff.

Ed sees Izzy’s disinterest. Ah, fuck it, I don’t want to share my fun with you anymore, fucking killjoy. Fine, whatever, let’s play along, what is this plan you want to discuss?

But he isn’t listening. He knows they have a lot of time, he knows they won’t have to do anything, so he already thinks about how to spend his work free day.

Izzy tries to keep the crew in line, not getting too friendly with his boss, to keep their authority, their control over them, so he interrupts Ed, before he says something stupid like “of course I won’t kill you guys, you’re fun!”

Ed is in the good mood again, after meeting the crew, especially the bird guy. He again wants to share his interests with Izzy (the little ship), Izzy isn’t interested (he thinks they still don’t have a plan). Ed gets pissed at all this nagging (Usually Izzy probably would already stop pestering Ed), he tells about his boredom, his frustration, he spells it out for Izzy. All Izzy sees is that Ed is avoiding the question. Why can’t he just give any instructions and Then talk about his feelings? He doesn’t have a problem with the feeling talk, but for christ’s sake can we please not die first? He’s really patient with him, he just asks. He explains why he’s bothering him so much.

Ed talks about dying all of a sudden. Izzy’s completely taken aback.

Ed was starting to idealize death. I don’t think he really considered suicide. He was tired, bored, nothing would give him joy. Until today. Today he finally had fun since so long! And Izzy is just making it harder for him to enjoy it. No, if you don’t care about anything I say or feel, fuck you, I’m out (no sharing a plan for you, you probably wouldn’t appreciate it anyway).

Izzy’s is getting seriously worried Ed is loosing it (again apparently, his erratic moods and all). If Ed won’t get his shit together soon they’re fucked.

He sees the Spaniards getting closer. They don’t have much time.

Stede asks if Ed works for Blackbeard. First of all: so he doesn’t know who he is. Second of all… huh. He did feel like this whole Blackbeard was a chore after all. He really has enough of this (knowing that the only retirement for a pirate is death).

Since he’s just Ed now, he let’s himself admit out loud that yes, yes he does fancy a fine fabric. Fabric so soft, he may have never touched one like this before, it was always out of reach, a fantasy only… And Stede happily shows him his secret passage he made for fun, his auxiliary wardrobe full of beautiful clothes. It’s like being in another realm! He’s overwhelmed with all of this, with how completely and incredibly different Stede’s life is! How colorful!

And then he hears Izzy. Ah fuck. Leave me alone, don’t wanna talk with you now. I’m not telling you about the cool stuff, you wouldn’t appreciate it anyway.

That Stede guy tho, he knows how to have fun, he’s nice and not judging his interests, he can know his identity now. (and then he does that flirty look). They’re having an affair in the closet.

Since Stede is such a cool dude, he tells him about his feelings, about feeling trapped, about being a ghost, how being Blackbeard is like a job. And he’s working as an actor, a decoration, a prop. How nobody sees him, Ed, when thinking about Blackbeard, but some stupid unrealistic version from the book! And Stede listens! He understands! Finally Ed feels heard!

Stede is proposing retirement. Not “retirement” as death, but to just leave (of course Stede proposed that). Ed couldn’t leave, could he? But it was his work free day, so let’s get the most of it! Stede wants to be Blackbeard? Fine, whatever, he’s not working today anyway. They are safe, because he knows the clouds!

Izzy knows they don’t have much time. Ed wasn’t cooperating and now got irritated and went fuck knows where. And now, what the fuck is he doing now?!

So he completely lost it. That’s enough. He was cleaning his mess all this time, but today is especially maddening! He doesn’t care that they’re going to die, he doesn’t care that his crewmates died for this crazy escapade, he doesn’t care he’s stressing him out! He used to be a brilliant man, but now he’s just insane, and he doesn’t want to die because of him.

Ed, after having so much fun with Stede, is much more disinterested in talking with Izzy, now that he know how much someone can actually engage with him, see him as a person, how invigorating a conversation could actually be.

When Izzy decided he has to fix this mess himself (again) and attacked Stede, Ed used this to again explain to Izzy how he feels, since he wouldn't listen otherwise. And when Izzy realized Ed didn't go mad, didn’t loose his connection to reality, he started to listen again. I wouldn’t be surprised if it did happen before: Ed not telling Izzy his plan, because he was angry at him. Maybe that’s why Izzy stopped and listened, instead of interrupting this game. He realized that that’s what was happening.

Everyone is impressed with Ed’s genius plan, Ivan shouts “That’s why you don’t doubt captain Blackbeard!”, you know, like Izzy did. Ed even gives him the look “What do you say now, huh?” He explains how the clouds were important, another jab at Izzy. Izzy’s mostly irritated. It couldn’t be the first time this happened. This is what they do, get mad at each other from time to time.

But Ed was wrong, and that changed everything. Now it wasn’t just a normal spat, now they’re going to die, because neither of them wanted to listen. Because Izzy was so quick to doubt Ed. (tbh I don’t know how much of it was a real doubt and how much just stress) At least that’s how Izzy feels.

Ed gave up. He didn’t really cared about living after all. He did his job because it was his responsibility, fighting everyday just to fight again the next. But since there’s nothing to do, then whatever.

Then he and Stede come up with the idea, and Ed actually learns something from today’s mistake. He works with people, with everyone. He’s not isolating anymore, stopped keeping his thoughts, plans and ideas to himself. And that let them escape.

Izzy decided to leave. Apparently his relationship with Ed became dangerous to everybody. Apparently it’s better for them both to split. But Ed tells him he was right, he wants to reconcile.

Ed wants to stay here with Stede, but he cannot just say that. Ed may have find something, someone who makes him happy, but he’s still deep into his pirate life, where you can’t just admit to such soft things. Izzy would nag him again that he’s being stupid and reckless, he would never shut up about it, he’s sure. So he lies about planning to kill Stede. This will buy him more time. He wants to stay here just a little longer. (and maybe he feels bad about having to lie about it, or having to lie to Izzy, his closest friend. Maybe he was sad because he realized he cannot share his joy with Izzy)

Izzy thinks he and Ed are finally good! He’s so happy! He didn’t want to leave of course, but he also didn’t want to endanger Ed. But since Ed wants him here, needs him, then he’s going all in. He will do anything and go anywhere for him! (Izzy also didn't know he could be this happy) (no, seriously, that "I need you" could be his first step towards realizing his feelings for Ed) (ah fuck I made myself sad now)

Tbh I don't think any of them knew or thought about their feelings as romantic (everyone has to have an opinin about it these days I know). More like, Izzy was in love, but thought it's just admiration. They were close, they were the closest people to each other for a very long time. I'm not saying they were buddies, more like a family, coworkers, partners, something like that. Izzy was useful to Ed, but I also think Ed was used to have Izzy around, since he was his family in a way. They would fight and then go back together, not knowing there's something better. Like Ed said, his life was boring, so his relationship with Izzy was probably rather stable, probably comforting even, for their standards. (I mean look at the last screenshots, they're close and chill and talking feelings) I think Izzy realised he was in love only when he started to loose Ed.

#not really a meta #more like an interpretation #I almost wrote a meta about this episode and then realised I was so wrong #close one #yeah I don't know if this look at the episode is the correct one or obvious but I wanted to put it into words #edizzy #ofmd #izzy hands #edward teach #ofmd meta #our flag means death #Like I'll write about later episodes but it would be too long and the rest isn't so focused on the details

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merlinemrys · 1 year ago

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@adhd-merlin replied to your post “honestly i’ve been reading a lot of gen merlin...”:

Any recs? :3

for you?? always!! some of these might have minor/background arwen <3

Speak (With) Your Mind by s0mmerspr0ssen (6k)

Summary: When Merlin sets out to teach mindspeech to Arthur, he couldn't have known just how much it would affect the friendship between King and Court Mage.

Only Friend by CaptainOzone (60k)

Summary: What if Arthur went after Merlin in the tunnels outside of Ealdor earlier? What would he think of the confrontation between him and Agravaine? And how will he deal with the revelation as they retake Camelot? 4x13 AU.

Allow One to 'See' by mollrach13 (28k)

Summary: When the King is attacked in his tent on patrol and falls into an unending sleep everyone is worried. What they don't know is that Arthur is fine. In fact he is standing right here next to them, watching them all fret over his prone body. To stave off the boredom whilst a cure is found Arthur takes to wandering the castle and soon discovered a hidden side of Camelot he never knew about. Or: Arthur's soul gets trapped outside his body and takes to following his servant around. He gets an interesting insight into Merlin, his servant's life and just how much Camelot needs the man.

The Champion of the Arcane Dominion by Princess_Cocoa (81k)

Summary: When the well-being of Camelot's greatest hangs in the balance, Merlin undergoes the trial of the Arcane Dominion. He is alone, forced to enter a magical realm and confront a dangerous enemy in order to save his friends. Little does he know, those very friends are watching his every move. Trapped by the magic of the trial, Arthur and the knights are made to witness Merlin's journey - and discover some uncomfortable secrets along the way.

scorch marks and embers by southfarthing (93k)

Summary: Everyone he trusted with his secret – Will, Freya, Balinor, Lancelot, and now Gaius – was gone. Arthur would never bring magic back to the land, and he would never let Merlin stand at his side the way Merlin had hoped he would. It was a cold awakening, years of baseless faith dashed against the fraying tapestry that destiny had made Merlin sew into his own skin, but an awakening nonetheless. Merlin is shaken out of his obsession with destiny and his blind faith in Arthur. Arthur just wishes he knew how to get his closest friend back.

The Hands of the Enemy by N16 (46k)

Summary: When Arthur accepts an invitation to a nearby kingdom where magic is free, he hopes to establish an alliance despite their differences. Instead, he and his knights find they’ve been invited under false pretenses, and the queen may succeed in turning friend against friend to accomplish her own aims.

#the-tenth-arcanum #shows #bbc merlin #merlin fic recs #fic recs #text #tais toi lys #i probably have more but these r the most recent ones ive read!#well only friend by captainozone is a yearly reread idk why i just LOVE that magical reveal sm #*#*frs

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adhdtectives · 11 months ago

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Who are the detectives?

The Mortimer Mysteries follow the sleuthing exploits of Mrs Isabel Mortimer, a young widow with a distinct penchant for sticking her nose into places she shouldn't. She is supervised accompanied assisted by her older brother Jimmy Howard, whose primary motivation has less with solving crimes and more to do with stopping his sister from getting shot by whichever London gangster she's gone after this time.

The siblings live in London during the 1920s, and the stories will centre primarily around that locality.

It isn't entirely historically accurate to describe my detectives as being ADHD, especially not within the text, as the condition was not pathologised (or labeled) in the same way in the 1920s as it is now. However, I have based these two main characters very heavily upon myself and my own experiences with ADHD, so even if it isn't explicit their neurodivergence is deliberate.

And now for some more specific information about Isabel and Jimmy (images from paintings by J C Leyendecker):

Isabel Mortimer

Name: Isabel Mortimer (nee Howard)

Born: 24 September, 1899

Social status: Recently widowed, and recently made rather wealthy

Occupation: Detective

Likes: Coffee, puzzles, long walks, being right

Dislikes: Boredom, romantic overtures, social events, being told "no"

Isabel was always a bit too clever for her own good, but until now had been stifled by her limited independence. After the death of her much older husband-of-convenience, Isabel finds herself with a lot more freedom, but not a lot of direction; circumstances having conspired to give her an important mystery to solve, Isabel realises how much she enjoys it, and takes it upon herself to become a lady detective.

It's a good fit: she's great at noticing clues and thinking on her feet, and she's as stubborn as a mule (to her brother's frequent dismay). Her clients may not always be able to follow her leaps of logic, but Jimmy is usually not too far behind her. She may be prone to taking risks to the point of being a bit cavalier with her own safety, but what are older brothers for if not hauling one out of scrapes?

Jimmy Howard

Name: James (Jimmy) Howard

Born: 6 June, 1897

Social status: Bachelor living slightly beyond his means

Occupation: Layabout (and reluctant assistant detective)

Likes: Parties, champagne, pretty girls, pretty boys

Dislikes: Obligations, dangerous situations, talk about the War, being asked by his mother when he's going to settle down with a nice girl

Growing up, Jimmy was frequently told he had so much potential... if he could be persuaded to apply himself. And he may well have gone on to great things, but then the War happened, and by the time the dust settled there just didn't seem to be much point. Nowadays, Jimmy is a strong proponent of the general apathy and hedonism sweeping across much of the youth of the time (it certainly beats being alone with his incessant thoughts).

For all that Jimmy likes to make out that he's not emotionally burdened by anyone or anything, he does have one strong anchor to reality: his sister. She's a right royal pain in the rear, but the thought of anything bad happening to her is the motivation that Jimmy needs to get out of his bubble. He's about the only person alive with the ability to make her stop and think before diving into danger, and he takes that, at least, very seriously.

#background info #the detectives #writing

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marshmallowprotection · 2 years ago

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Yknow what would be funny? Suit walking in on you doing ridiculous things out of boredom. Hanging off the bed to get a headrush, stacking books in the world's most inneficent jenga tower, making several increasingly dumb looking paper planes out of a spare notebook and pencil we found, stacking chairs and balancing on top (dont do that one folks its dangerous-), very carefully layering the pages of two really thick books over each other bc you heard the friction would make it impossible to pull them apart, etc.

This is what happens when you lock my adhd ass in a room with nothing to do, Saeran.

I can't decide what he would do. I mean, obviously, he's going to tell you to stop wasting your time because you are supposed to do your work in the damn messenger to secure party guests' information for the Mint Eye Eternal Party while manipulating the RFA to turn their eyes as he hacks into their servers long enough to get what he needs to do them under. You're not supposed to be amusing yourself with a lot of distractions that he sees no purpose in.

He's a bully so he's going to take your things one by one if you keep that up. As disappointing as that is, I imagine you're going to find a million ways to amuse yourself and he's losing no matter if he leaves you with your stuff or not. What I think is genuinely funny is how he would try to emulate what you're doing... hanging off a bed upside down to read a small book and he just falls off the bed and gets mad at himself.

Damn you, toy.

#ask #anon #mod kait #suit saeran #saeran choi #choi saeran

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alice-bushneva · 1 year ago

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How to get rid of boredom once and for all? (If you an average person)

Have I finally found an antidote to one of the most unpleasant feelings that exist? For some of you, definitely. For others, maybe not...

The utility of the following information completely depends on your will. The will not only to understand it but also to apply and actually change old patterns.

I am never bored. And can insist that I know what I'm talking about because:

1. Either way, it definitely works: we can assume that all actions I take in life are leading to not being bored. 2. Either way, I was born with a natural capacity for receiving more emotions (or just having a higher range of them) by doing daily life things - therefore just not needing additional stimulation. 3. I can also assume that it was one of the ways I've been taught. If you have nothing to do, usually equivalent to boredom, my mom would give me tons of home chores to do (because there's always an infinite amount of it :) ). So it might have played a crucial role, but that's not the only reason for sure.

Right now, if it sounds a bit confusing, just keep in mind that we are at a basic level. No need to think of complicated theories; instead, think of how you don't get scared while watching a horror movie, and your mom does. Here you are: different people experience a different range of the same emotion. And it's either a life experience or either an innate predisposition that led to it.

In fact, this made me curious about why people around me experience it so often, while I haven't thought of it once (or at least haven't been using this exact term to describe it). While they're struggling with it, I would have a list of things to do and always be lacking time (it started being a problem at some point until I understood 'the concept' of priorities).

So, boredom is a lack of intellectual and/or physical activity. Activity leads to brain stimulation, which will elicit emotion in response to this outside stimuli.

So, that's what you have to determine on the first place. What exactly are you lacking?

1. Is it a daily routine that is eating you alive (distinctive features are: being okay with your life but finding it all dull and not interesting)? 2. Or have you just mentally overworked (here you're sick of your life, want to be a rebel, just do things to feel something)?

For the first case, an intellectual activity is key. For the second, a physical one.

Two things you can do are:

1. Create a list of potential activities (I heard of people with ADHD doing that - to help manage their attention).

2. Think of it on the spot - and benefit from an element of surprise if it's crucial for you.

That's already what you're doing already, but from now on, just try to be more self-conscious about it. You are already choosing from the activities you know, so the choice is very limited. Probably (since our brain is really lazy - which is actually a good thing! Sometimes :) ), you're choosing the easiest high-dopamine activity such as scrolling TikTok or Insta, masturbation, eating, or less often going out with friends and getting drunk (which is less probable because of the effort required).

Instead of that, I propose you diversify your choices and make it less self-destructive; in fact, even use this time beneficially.

Do not think that I'm telling you to eliminate 'chill' time and work only. NO! Because, for sure, it is really important to have time when you don't consume any information and just do nothing (processing and structuring your thoughts only).

The list should be divided into two categories:

I need an Intellectual activity:

- Become good at something - Favorite study - Math - Talk with people - Express feelings for people - Create something of your own (this works only if you're already good at something; if it's not the case, go back to the first activity proposed). - Make money

I need a physical one:

- "Life dangerous" (without actual life danger - but the one our brain considers as the catalyst for turning on the Basic Survival Instincts), such as swimming, cold shower, etc. - Favorite sport - Quick sport - Sex - Do absolutely nothing (I mean actually just look around you and think about random stuff)

The last piece of advice is: Keep in mind that you know yourself the best, so you have to look at this information through your preferences - only this way you'll be able to create a strong pattern system that is going to work for and not against you.

And keep in mind that: you are the only one responsible for your life.

Bonus for nerds:

So instead of doing top-down decision-making, you're going to be doing bottom-up decision-making. These are the notions Elisabeth Filips (source down below) has been using for describing a simple self-conscious analysis (the ability to understand what we actually need in this particular moment - to be more efficient and actually have control of ourselves and our actions). She introduced it while explaining how to stay focused and avoid any distractions. And by distractions, she meant scrolling = wasting time = procrastinating, while being scared of the upcoming deadline. In our case, there's no deadline, but a need for a pleasant activity. And a lot of people, in order to get it, seek it from sources (social media) that only give half of satisfaction compared to others (moving/thinking).

It's like washing your hands without soap because of not knowing that it exists or being too lazy to use it. So doing that is literally twice less efficient than properly washing them. Not particularly smart, right?

Source: https://elizabeth-filips.notion.site/Deep-Focus-Why-Your-Brain-Needs-Understimulation-f6f677ef8d4e4dcd803c94302817b10f#7d5e1d0d7c7f4c06ab4c48b38a4da146

#Elisabeth Filips #self consciousness #Productivity #productivity aesthetic #productivity tips #student life #studying #study motivation

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gods-no-longer-tread-here · 1 year ago

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ADHD is your mother suggesting you just let yourself "get bored" in order to fall asleep, and all of your instincts beginning to scream, because when you "get bored", the looping thoughts go from Random Song Lyrics and Snippets Of Viral Videos From 15 Years Ago to "I wonder how much of my bedroom wall I can paint with my own blood before I die" and "I should throw myself out the window since I can't just fall asleep" and "what if I just walk out the door and don't come back, just walk and walk and walk until I disappear into the river"

ADHD is your brain perceiving boredom as a signal of danger, and reacting in a way that will spur you to get up and find something distracting at all costs.

ADHD is being afraid to go to bed, because lying still in the quiet of a dark room is fucking torture that makes you wonder if it's worth it to stab out your own eyes.

ADHD is needing to take medication that normal people have their lives ruined by, just to stay sane and alive.

ADHD is being so scared of a quiet brain that when the person you trust more than anyone tells you to "get bored", you dissociate out of sheer panic, because if you aren't real and don't exist then you can't be tempted to hurt yourself.

.......anyway guess who hasn't had their Concerta in two fucking months and is kinda going insane!

#me it's me I'm going insane #don't worry y'all mother is aware and I have requested refills of everything including the sleeping meds that knock me out for 12 hours #I just need to be crushed back into my body #self harm tw #actually ADHD #suicide tw #idk y'all it's A Lot

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iturbide · 2 years ago

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I know next to nothing about engage at the moment, but I would most definitely like to read your thoughts on your favourite or least favourite characters so far! Or anything you like/dislike about the make, really!

Also- I have no idea about anything about the Brodian family besides They’re Royalty but I would 100% die for Alcryst.

I'll be honest, Engage has really surprised me with just how much fun it is!!

(Spoilers below the cut!)

I actually love a lot of different characters. Alcryst is my boy, he keeps outleveling everyone but the healers because I have to take him everywhere. Also, please know that you will not die for Alcryst: Alcryst will die for you (he is 100% willing to throw himself into danger to protect other people because of a frankly massive inferiority complex that makes him believe he's worth less than the people around him; I honestly do not know where this comes from, given that his brother and father love and support him so much, but his brother being perfect in his eyes may contribute in part).

Also, Fogado. I was so afraid I was going to hate Fogado because the pre-release stuff gave the impression of a flirt along the lines of Virion or Inigo, one of my most beloathed character traits. Fogado is honestly more along the lines of Claude in how laid-back and easygoing he seems (while secretly getting shit done), and I love him so much.

(Also, both Alcryst and Fogado are the younger brothers and have an archer class specialty, so between them and Takumi and Claude depending on how canon you consider Three Hopes to be, I apparently have a Thing for the younger brother archers in Fire Emblem games.)

I also love Boucheron. Boucheron my beloved. Buff and kindhearted and everyone is obsessed with his muscles. It's hilarious. But he takes it in stride with incredible grace and also he's just so nice? His supports are all great and also I love setting him up with Lucina's ring because they synergize so well (her special move calls in all allies within two spaces to join in a chain attack, and his personal ability raises his strength when allies jump in to assist like that).

AND YUNAKA. I was so sure that Yunaka was going to backstab us but I was completely wrong and I honestly ended up so attached to her. She's so fun and honestly so silly, which is hilarious since she's literally an assassin or, well, former assassin. "Hiya, Papaya" is now ingrained in my lexicon, thank you Yunaka.

Oh and Zelkov and Kagetsu. They are both utterly delightful in completely different ways: Zelkov is very cool to the point of coming off as intimidating but he has no tolerance for boredom: he teaches himself new things and tries his hand at all manner of crafts and hobbies to keep himself engaged. Also, he has the most interesting inflections in his speech I have no idea what it's drawing from but I love his speech pattern. And Kagetsu is the exact opposite: he's bright and cheery and charming and friendly and so excited about so many things he's so endearing. Also, I don't think that the common langage of Elyos is his first one because he says "I could quiz you" instead of "I could kiss you" and I just. I love him. I love him so much.

I'm also really fond of Alcryst's older brother Diamant, Fogado's older sister Timerra, Rosado the adorable wyvern rider, Merrin the wolf knight who's obsessed with rare critters, Lapis the sword knight who loves a craft project, Jade the meditative knight who secretly writes novels in her free time, Etie the archer with her weighted teacups for getting buff during teatime, Saphira the axe-wielding badass old lady, Framme and Clanne the twin presidents of the Divine Dragon fanclub...honestly it's a shorter list of characters I don't like.

Funny enough, I'm not a big fan of Vander. He might be fine if not for how he comes down hard on Framme for forgetting things, and Framme gives off intense ADHD vibes. I got in a lot of trouble as a kid for forgetting things people told me, so it does not endear me to him when Vander chastises a girl with attention problems rather than trying to coach her and figure out a system that works for her.

I'm also not big on either Hortensia and Goldmary. Both of them are manipulative in different ways but it's extremely uncomfortable; Hortensia gives me Severa vibes with how she tries to leverage her cute looks and get people to fawn and fuss over her, while Goldmary is...almost like a lady Inigo, in a way? She's extremely flirty and kind of full of herself from what I've seen and I just haven't been endeared to her as of yet. I still have a lot of supports to unlock though so all of these might change!

I actually really like a lot of the mechanics in the game! Engaging is such a fun system and I love shuffling the rings around to different characters to see how they work together: giving Marth to an Archer with high speed will absolutely obliterate flying enemies (or just about anything else, honestly) with the extra shot of half damage for every attack they make. Right now I'm abusing Corrin's inheritable Quality Time skill for trying to build up supports because it increases the Support level of all nearby allies after a move (and heals a few points of damage too). Also, having weapon proficiency linked to the Engage rings means you have so much freedom with reclassing: right now I've gone to Advanced class just based on the original base class, but I plan on changing things around once I hit the max level just to see what happens! I think Yunaka would benefit from some time as a Wolf Rider for the Hobble class skill, but Thieves and Dancers are special classes that don't have a level cap at 20 so I'm still trying to find the max level for her. Also, I haven't seen a single normal Base Class that has a unique class skill: only Advanced Classes do, but once you've used a Master Seal once every other Advanced Class change just takes a Second Seal; combined with that freedom afforded by the weapon proficiency system, it's super easy to experiment.

Also I kind of love the skirmishes. Skirmishes level with you: at this point my skirmishes are asking for Advanced Class Level 11 and 12 while the main story is something like Advanced Level 4 or 5. I actually got forced into doing the story at one point because it needed Advanced Classes and I just didn't have enough Master Seals. On top of that, after battle you have an opportunity to run around, adopt animals, pick up items, and talk to your allies! It's really interesting to explore these maps in 3D that you'd just viewed from above or in brief flashes during combat sequences -- some of them are really beautiful, too, like the Solm Palace!

Overall the story isn't bad, either! It's been fun to play through, the cast is delightful, I'm honestly shocked and delighted that for once it's not the desert nation that's the site of the villains, and the dark-skinned characters are absolute gems with some remarkably keen strategizing in play when it comes to keeping their nation and its people safe. Full respect for Solm, I love it dearly (though I will confess that the number of lily white Solmese characters still grates on me: aside from the royal family, every recruitable Solmese character including the dancer is white, despite one of them making it pretty clear from her supports that she was desert born and raised).

That said, it definitely has some of the same flaws that I've seen in Fire Emblem games before it, which continues to be the most uncomfortable aspect to interact with. The villainous nation worships the evil dragon, the only good members of that nation are the ones who don't worship the evil dragon but instead worship the Divine Dragon, the warrior nation is justified in constantly encroaching on the evil nation's territory because they worship the evil dragon, the evil dragon in this case is quite literally devouring the inhabitants of the nation that worships it...there are several aspects that feel like they were lifted from Awakening, but this actually takes it a step further than Awakening ever did and has made Sombron directly and tangibly responsible for the death of a nation. In Awakening we know that Validar orchestrated events at the Dragon's Table in the doomed timeline, so it's not just Grima's influence that caused that disaster; I also don't think it's unreasonable to say that Validar's mind control over both Robin and the people of Plegia at large was only attributable to Grima's influence, since I've always been under the impression that Robin killed Chrom in the doomed timeline because of Validar's manipulation, not Grima's (that cackling at the end of the opening movie sounds like Validar to me, not Robin). My impression in Awakening was always that that Validar sacrificed Plegia to raise Grima, even in the doomed timeline; in Engage, Sombron sacrifices his own people because he's evil, I guess. It's just a bad look and does not lend itself well to crafting a nuanced villain.

I'm admittedly not done yet so hey, that may turn around, too, but my hopes aren't exactly high there.

Also Veyle is precious, I love her, I want to give her hugs and I want Mauvier to live even though I'm pretty sure he's not long for this world (preemptive RIP Mauvier).

Also, if you've made it this far, this is where I'll put the actual big spoilers:

I did not really feel anything when Lumera died. We knew her for a chapter at most, and while her affection for her child is heartwarming despite Alear's amnesia, her death didn't really have any punch because we barely knew her and it was telegraphed in the most obvious way ("we'll talk later and I'll tell you all these things" yeah right I've heard that from a Fire Emblem game before you're not making it out of Chapter 3 lady). Meanwhile, I was completely gutted by the death of Morion, King of Brodia and Diamant and Alcryst's dad. We didn't know him long, really, but we got to see him in action, got to see how he interacted with his kids, how much he loved his family, and how committed he was to the safety of his land and people. And when he was corrupted...you could bring his sons to the fight. And have them face their father. And the dialogues for the brothers when they faced their father just destroyed me. Diamant, worrying he's not ready for kingship, asking his father if he was a good son though Morion no longer answer; and Alcryst, insisting that he has to strike down his father because he knows the task would break the older brother he so loves, and telling Morion that he loves his father and always will. I was a wreck after that, they really pulled out all the stops with those conversations and I am still in pieces honestly.

#answered #cheeseandcake #fire emblem: engage #fe engage spoilers #i swear i'm going to finish it at some point #i just keep getting sidetracked #i want rare animals #i still need the deer the flamingo and the elusian cat #there may be others i just haven't come across yet #but i yearn for them i love the animal adoption stuff #boy that got long though #kudos to anyone that gets to the end

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