#adhd hero

[0vinosparv]

Both the Hero and the Villain (who are neurodivergent) find out they have a shared interest and now they have somebody to info-dump on.

[lilislegacy]

percy has been called smart by hazel, reyna, and annabeth (twice).

to say he’s actually dumb is to disagree with those three women. and if you are disagreeing with 3 of the most knowledgeable, capable, and badass characters in the series… what are you even doing?

[miauiz]

himiko at UA shenanigans part 1

[a-very-sparkly-nerd]

Annabeth: *tries to sacrifice herself for Percy*

Percy:

Percy:

Percy: *jumps off the St. Louis Arch*

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Bros before Ho(oh my god is that Hanguang-Jun?)

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[ann3ofabyss4lred]

"We need smart ND folks that aren't booksmarts" you guys couldn't even handle percy jackson and misunderstood his character or dumb him down to being sassy,or making him "silly" bc he has adhd. Forget annabeth has adhd because she is booksmart and make the cliché dynamic of silly boy/smart girl.

[smxhyphy]

Thinking about when Mc was on the internet looking up Binary Star media. They had to have seen a few magazine covers, right?

Anyway hope they start collecting them bc he sure does look good in 'em.

[thirstyallmightfan]

The reason I love this trope so damn much is I head cannon they're all neurodivergent in different ways.

I hc Aizawa as Autistic, mic as a loud ADHD-er and All might as a silly OCD-er

I love them ❤️

[thief-of-eggs]

Kaminari has ADHD, and Ojiro’s tail is his fidget.

[modawg]

i feel like if rick keeps saying the timeline just goes with whatever timeline it is irl (more or less) so the characters don’t age outside of cannon then annabeth would be the biggest slooth and knew everything abt percy before he even came to camp using that computer they have in the back

if we’re saying technology ages with the irl timeline yk

like i just know pre tlt the moment annabeth found out abt that prophecy and chiron told her they might’ve found their guy she was looking that kid up IMMEDIATELY

like she was looking up first name last name middle initial school records public court records everything abt his mom his step dad yada yada yada like genuinely i just know she would’ve looked into all that shit

like she probably went to luke after chiron told her abt percy and was like “they think they found the kid from the prophecy”

“oh shit fr ?? when are they gonna bring him to camp?”

“oh idk..”

“damn well-“

“but his names perseus jackson he lives in manhattan new york he’s been kicked out of 5 schools so far- he’s my age his birthdays coming up pretty soon, august 18th, so he’s a leo- his moms sally jackson she married his guy gabriel ugliano a couple years ago and hes currently going to boarding school called yancy academy which is where grovers at rn and where chirons going tomorrow. his public records say he’s pretty small too i could prob pick him up, shorter then me by 2 inches😌”

“oh-“

“nothing abt his dad tho chiron won’t tell me :/“

“and when did he tell you all that??”

“he told me his name last night i’ve been at the computer all day there aren’t many ppl by the name perseus lmao”

“cool..so when perseus-“

“chiron said grover calls him percy”

“ok so when percy comes to camp how abt we make sure he doesn’t think ur a creep ok? and we’ll keep this all to ourselves”

“:/ ok”

“ok..cool..”

“do you wanna know his blood type? i already told the apollo kids :)”

“please no”

logistically ik you can say “mo she can’t do that bc the monsters >:(“ FUCK THOSE MONSTERS

their protected by thalias tree at this point and i feel like she’d be one of the only ppl with access to that computer anyway like they keep that thing pretty lock and key so i could see annabeth sticking her hat on and creeping her way to the computer every other night before percy came just so she could know exactly who they would be bringing to camp

hc that annabeths a freak and we love her for it

i will forever believe annabeth has a scary “percy” folder hidden under her bed with a bunch of shit abt him in there

emails he sent her ? printed and annotated check

anything written/drawn by him ? check

anything medical just incase ? check

random facts abt him she probably wrote when he was gone to make herself feel better ? check

your honour she’s a menace and she loves that boy

[poppitron360]

Just saw a video complaining about the British!Thalia casting saying that “Rick isn’t being faithful enough to the books” but like??? Clearly her nationality just isn’t that important to the character?? Not all changes are bad and actually one (very small) issue I have with the books is that they’re too Americanised. Tamara is a great actress first and foremost, but it’s a perk that this change might actually make PJO more appealing to international audiences!! Much like how British characters are FREQUENTLY Americanised in adaptations to make it sell in America (e.g Anathema Device in Good Omens).

Thalia’s nationality is not core to her character in the books. In the grand scheme of things, it’s a very minor change. The show was never gonna be exactly how you imagined it anyway.

Also, for anyone wondering if this means we’ll get British!Jason? Not necessarily. Jason was raised at the Wolf House and then at Camp Jupiter, and Thalia was born six years before him and their mother could’ve easily moved to the US in that time. In fact a larger emphasis on the differences between the siblings could serve as a good metaphor for the Greek/Roman divide- and play into the fact that Jason is not quite the “All-American Golden Boy” that he seems and how he never seemed to fit with the expectations everyone had of him.

Also imagine how all these goofy British quirks would really throw a spanner in the works for Jason in TLH. Like there’s all this weird stuff with Roman gods and speaking latin but also? He’s got a British accent that seeps through when he’s caught off guard? Weird familiar feeling that drinking tea gives him? How cute and confused would he be as he’s trying to figure out where his “home” is and he keeps getting all these mixed signals? There’s potential here, guys!

I’ve got a post in the works about British!Jason hcs, but my point is that y’all should think about how much potential something has to be great before signing it off as rubbish.

I think the movies traumatised us, and now we all think “different = bad” but this might bring some positive change, and make some people in the audience feel a bit more included and represented.

[booksanddarkchocolate]

Both Annabeth and Jason are AuDHD imo but Annabeths adhd is more prominent and Jasons autism is more prominent

[artemismoorea03]

DP x DC Prompt: Villain

Danny is a villain, at least that's what the Ghost Investigation Ward and his parents managed to convince everybody. Sure, nobody knew Danny's true identity outside of his friends, sister, Vlad, and Elle. Vlad was excited when he heard that Danny - or rather Phantom - was quickly climbing the ranks of 'dangerous villains' and even managed to land himself on the Justice Leagues watch list. But, to his dismay Danny was still not actually a villain, no matter what everybody else wanted to believe.

It sucked too. Being listed as 'dangerous' by the Justice League. Any time a hero saw Phantom they would try to 'bring him in peacefully' but not actually listen to what Danny had to say. Green Lantern was definitely the worst of those types but Superman tended to not listen either often requesting that they 'take it some where private' but try to lead him towards the GIW. He didn't trust them.

Any of them.

Even the ones he hadn't met yet.

He finally got to prove that one day when the League was in trouble. They were losing badly and close to being defeated which would have been the destruction of the mortal realm - thanks for the heads up Clockwork (not) - so despite how 'villainous' he was made out to be, Danny made his way to help.

The Villain was ecstatic to see Phantom, and even offered to let him take a swing at the heroes while they were down. It would have been easy. It also would have made it easier for Danny in the long run, if the League was gone then the amount of people hunting him would be cut down considerably.

He thought about it - or pretend to think about it, because the truth was he was never going to hurt them. Still, he took a chance to walk up to Batman and whisper.

"When this is over, I expect the League to have a real conversation with me instead of trying to turn me over to a Government agency trying to start a cross-dimensional war under false information and faulty science." Danny said, then turned and showed his true colors.

No matter what happened. No matter what he went through. Danny was no villain, and even if nobody ever fully believed him, he wasn't going to turn his back on the world he loved.

[mediumgayitalian]

“Hello, twerp.”

Kayla grunts at him. She is focused, intently, on something small enough to be covered up by her hands and curtaining hair; Nico decides it is likely some kind of explosive. There is a reason she, Banned From Arts ‘n’ Crafts For Criminal Reasons, is sneaking into the Hermes’ cabin’s time slot and hiding behind Julia.

Instead of confirming that she is, indeed, planning to blow up at least one of her brothers’ bunks in their sleep tonight, because of Plausible Deniability, Nico swings a leg over the picnic table bench, settling in next to her. She spares a second of attention to blow a raspberry at him, seemingly unprovoked. Nico reaches calmly over, plucks a pair of scissors from Connor’s hands, which he allows because of who he is as a person, and snips a piece of her hair. In response she pulls a notebook from her pocket and puts a little tick mark next to Nico’s name.

“So,” Nico says, choosing to ignore that. “I have a Question.”

“Ten dollars.”

“I’m not paying you, you little shit.”

“Then wonder in silence.”

Nico digs two wrinkled fives from his shoe and slams them on the table, scowling. Kayla pockets them.

“Proceed.”

Nico glares at her, noting her twitching mouth, and remembers that he does, in fact, need her help, and her brother is, in fact, his best friend, so challenging her to a duel to the death is a bad idea on both counts.

(Nonwithstanding the part where she has deadly accuracy with any projectile from almost any semi-reasonable distance. And he has, like, a sword. So.)

“Your brother,” he starts, and he does not need to clarify which one, “is always trying to…feed me.”

“Yes,” she agrees, “he is internally a seventy year old Southern woman. He does that.”

“Fruits.”

“Hm.”

“Oranges, specifically. Like, every single meal.”

“…Ah.”

It is a very knowing ah, Kayla’s little noise, and in fact she sets her project aside. (It is, in fact, an explosive.) She turns slightly on the bench to face him, lips pursed, hands folded. She blinks at him for several moments. Nico holds her gaze, remembering he is out ten dollars.

“My dear brother,” she begins, “my lovely, kind-hearted, smiley, morning person brother, is neurotic.”

Nico waits. This is, apparently, the end of her sentence, as she does not continue.

“I am aware,” he says slowly. “I have been present during every rant about Hollywood inaccuracies about medical sciences.”

She nods sagely. “This is true. You have. You are, however, by virtue of his cripplingly low self esteem and fervent belief that his mere existence is a Literal Actual Curse, spared from much of his most…colourful…contingencies.”

“Contingencies,” Nico repeats.

Kayla nods again.

“Yes. You see, dear future brother-in-law —”

“Cease,” Nico snaps, reddening.

“— our lovely William, also known as your Special Guy, according to Nico With Severe Blood Loss.” continues Kayla, not ceasing, “is under the impression that you, like all people, have a Limit.”

“…A Limit.”

“Yes. A point or level beyond which something does not or may not extend or pass.”

“I know what a godsdamn limit is, Kayla.”

“You seemed confused.”

“I am going to strangle you.”

Openly snickering to herself, she moves on.

“He feeds you oranges because he regularly paces around the cabin in the middle of the night stressing about your vitamin levels,” she explains, finally. “He doesn’t know how to tell you that like a normal person because he’s afraid he’s going to weird you out. Ergo.” She makes a flippant gesture with her hands. “Citrus.”

“Why is he so godsdamn cute,” Nico mutters to himself, then remembers to throw out a hasty, “Thank you,” before scrambling away from the table, ignoring the gathered snickers, and beelining for the the Demeter cabin. “Gods.”

It is empty, thankfully, when he strolls in, except for Miranda in the front gardens, who holds up a finger as he gets closer and whispers to a struggling seedling.

“Hey,” she says after a moment, smiling up at him. “What’s up?”

“I need,” he starts. He purses his lips, rocking back on his heels. His hands make some kind of motion. He’s not sure what, exactly, he didn’t give them permission. “I need.”

Miranda, thankfully, has had years of experience communicating with non-speaking entities, and as such is relatively fluent in Nico. She dusts off her hands, patting the spot beside her. Nico sits as indicated.

“Try a deep breath first,” she instructs. “When your brain is back up and running, try again.”

“It’s running. It’s running a lot.”

“Oh. In that case, might I suggest a small shout of frustration?”

“You may.”

He clears his throat, resting his hands on his diaphragm to Maximize the Output, as he has been previously instructed, and yells. A passing satyr jumps a full five feet in the air and flees. Nico grimaces, calling apologies after them.

“They’re never going to like me,” he grumbles.

Miranda pats his head. “There, there. One issue at a time.”

“Solace,” he says at her invitation, gesturing again. “Oranges.”

“…Ah.”

“He is. You know. Right?”

“I must confess I do not.”

He takes a moment to collect himself. Or, well, he tries to. He’s had an easier time trying to wrangle errant souls surfing along the Styx, but whatever. He literally owns his brain. It Shall submit to him, or he’ll get a new one. Watch.

“Will is…intensely thoughtful.”

“He’s a sweetheart,” Miranda agrees. “Once he brushed past me on the way to dinner and felt that I was going to get a cold, so he took the food I got and exchanged it for soup and veggies and Gatorade and stuff. He forgot to actually tell me that I was about to get a cold, at the time, but it was really nice of him in hindsight.”

Nico makes another loud, strangled bleating noise. Thankfully, no satyrs are harmed.

“He is so!”

“There, there,” Miranda says again. “You’ll get to full sentences soon, I’m sure of it.”

He takes a few moments to have a minor crisis in the peace and tranquility of Friendship. It’s this new thing he’s been trying. Will tells him it’s usually called ‘trust’ and ‘vulnerability’. It is mortifying for the most part but in small doses is kind of cool. Mostly.

“Who takes care of Will?“

“He doesn’t really get sick. Apollo genes and all that.”

“No, like. Emotionally.”

“Oh.” Miranda frowns thoughtfully. “Um. Chiron, maybe? I’m not actually sure.”

“It needs to be me,” Nico stresses. “He always takes care of me, and I want to, like, repay him. Not transactionally,”Nico rushes to clarify, “but, like, mutual care-ily.”

“I see.”

“You see?”

“Yes,” Miranda says sagely. “You must Show Him. That you are Invested in your Relationship.”

“Yes!” Nico cries, gripping her by the elbows. She meets his gaze head on, eyes wide and wizened. “Yes, exactly. Relationship Investment. You’re so smart.”

Miranda preens. “Thank you.” She stands, brushing off her jeans — fruitlessly, she’s got grass stains on top of grass stains on every piece of clothing she owns — and offering Nico a hand. Together they stand and observe the various shrubs, trees, and vines surrounding the cabin, hands on their hips.

Nico narrows his eyes. “Should I just get him oranges?”

“I still don’t fully understand the orange thing. But Will likes peaches.” She leans up and plucks one off of the largest tree, holding it out to Nico. “They make him think of home.”

Nico takes the peach and inspects it. It is, of course, impeccable — thick and heavy, skin soft and unblemished, full enough with juice and flavour to be fragrant even from the arm’s length Nico holds it. This is the kind of peach that wins fairs. This is the kind of peach that sits, prized, in a market, watching as mothers and hipsters claw at each other. This is the kind of peach that immediately upon first touch strikes within you such an intense urge to chuck it at the nearest hard surface and watch it splat into a beautiful explosion of Squelch that Nico has to, hastily, set it down and out of immediate reach.

“It’s perfect,” he declares.

“Don’t throw it at him,” Miranda advises, eyeing the fruit herself.

“Shan’t,” Nico promises, and it doubles at a warning to his brain because he can’t lie to Miranda, obviously, so his brain better Check Itself. There will be no peach throwing. Peach holding, only, and peach giving.

He waves goodbye to Miranda as he hustles off, headed for the bustling infirmary. There have been no great emergencies today — there would be a lot more of Will’s echoed screeching if this were the case — and many people who have walked in have walked out, minutes later, scowling, so now is a good a time as any. He could of course wait until Will is done his shift and they meet by Cabin Seven, like usual, but this is a Pressing Issue. Will can no longer continue to believe that Nico has a Limit, as Kayla had so unhelpfully explained. Nico is Limitless. He is a sine function. He is an eternal abyss. He is the final end of Chiron’s patience, if the horse is to be believed.

Also, the peach is really really tempting and Nico honestly does not have all that much control over his brain. It usually kind of does as it pleases. That’s why he has so many Situations.

“Solace,” he shouts, banging open the screen door loud enough to make everyone inside jump, “GET the hell over here.”

“I. Am.” Will holds up a patient’s arm, which has been hastily butterfly-clamped closed and is now being stitched. “Um. Is it urgent?”

Nico snaps his mouth shut. “No.” He stalks over to where Will is sitting, still bewildered, on his favourite stool, and stands with his arms crossed behind him. He nods at the injured camper, clearing his throat. “Proceed.”

“…Okay.”

Because Will is a Professional, his gaze remains focused on the gaping wound he is fixing. Because no one else at this camp is, everyone else chooses to gawk. Nico lets the fires of Hell enter his eyes, like Father showed him, and glares them all into subservience.

“Alright,” Will says, several minutes later, patting the patient’s knee with a smile. “I’m gonna wrap this, Jen, and you gotta keep it dry, okay? Have ambrosia twice a day like I told you and come see me at the end of the week.”

“There’ll be no scar?” the young girl hedges.

“Not if you follow my instructions,” Will promises. “Although you’ll be just as beautiful with a scar, kiddo, I promise. Ask your mother.”

Jen looks at him doubtfully, but Will is one of those people who’s unbelievably hard to distrust. It’s infuriating, if you’re Nico and committed to the whole goth/emo lifestyle. Probably comforting if you’re a normal person.

She leaves, and it is abruptly very quiet in the infirmary, which is crazy because it is abruptly never quiet at camp unless people are dead, usually, but no one is dead, and people are too godsdamn nosy to flinch away from Nico’s glare, or maybe they’re not scared of him anymore, and hey, isn’t that something. The world is so busy, all the time. Things keep happening. Who’s fault is that, again?

“Nico?” Will asks, rocking back on his heels. His hands are suddenly clean of blood and grime and his scrubs have been swapped out. They stand, also, at the other end of the infirmary, right outside of the on-call room. He looks up, and conversations have resumed, and Will is watching him, intently, bright eyes slightly too wide, front teeth gnawing at his bottom lip, Ace bandage winding, unwinding, winding.

“This is for you,” Nico blurts, and shoves the peach at him.

Will blinks. “Oh.” He stares at the peach, a moment, before a smile erupts on his face. “Oh! Thank you!”

He takes the peach, gently, from Nico’s hands, and holds it close to his chest, wide hands gentle so as not to bruise, smile gone close-mouthed, giddy. The rocking gets every so slightly faster, and the slight breeze from the open screen door ruffles his frizzy hair, and his nose is scrunched, just slightly, enough to wrinkle his dotted feathers, and Nico’s mouth is very, very dry.

“I do not,” he tries, and it grinds along his paper-parched throat, near silent, “I do not have Limits, William.”

The rocking stills. Nico mourns it.

“…Sorry?”

“Limits,” Nico repeats. “I do not have them. I am Limitless. Purge the thought.”

“You have limits,” Will says, alarmed. “Um, we had that talk, right? About pushing yourself and why that is generally regarded as a bad plan.”

“That was you shouting at me in between nectar shots and frantic mothering, actually, but that’s not what I meant.”

Will doesn’t answer, only tilting his head.

“You’re neurotic,” Nico attempts to explain, and as could be expected by literally anyone with a brain this goes poorly, and he rushes to amend. “I mean! Well, you are neurotic — but! There is a but! Stop looking at me like that! You are neurotic but!”

“This is a very bad friendship break up if that is what you are trying,” says Will in a small voice, and Nico resolves to kick his own ass later tonight to Atone.

“I like it,” he hurries to explain. “You and your — neuroses. All of you, I like it. There is no Limit. Capital L. You’re groovy. On — point. Fleek? What do the kids say. I don’t —”

“Oh,” Will breathes, thankfully putting Nico out of his misery, “oh, this is about the oranges.”

Nico nods miserably.

“The oranges are —” Will cuts himself off, staring down at his shoes. “Um, scurvy freaks me out.”

“…Scurvy?”

“It — collagen synthesis is an active process? In your body? And scurvy makes it degrade really quickly. Which kind of tears your body apart by reopening scars. On top of other things. And you — were on a ship, you know. For a while. And you sweat a lot. And you don’t take the multivitamins I give you.”

“Because they’re gross,” Nico says, breathless, “and I’m not — sweaty.”

Wherever sunlight touches Will’s skin he tends to glow, slightly, and his freckles fluoresce the longer his hand takes to traverse the space between them, past the open window, resting, lightly, on Nico’s wrist.

“You are,” he says, gently. “You have — really low magnesium and potassium levels. Just, all the time.” He glances down at the inside of Nico’s wrist. “Right now, actually. Will you eat a banana if I go get you one?”

Will will go get a banana, and Nico will follow him, and they will sit, somewhere, probably the big rock by the lake, as Nico eats it, and Will will eat his peach, and Nico will watch his throat bob, and Will will talk, hands gesturing, peach juice everywhere, and they will stay there, probably, way past sunset, right till curfew, and then they will sprint, as they usually do, to avoid the harpies, and they will go to Nico’s cabin, first, because they always do, and Will will snag an orange as they run past the fruit trees by the Demeter cabin, and he will press it into Nico’s hands, firmly, smiling as he says goodnight, and running back to his own cabin. Where he will, according to Kayla, pace, and worry. Where he will rant about Limits, and how close Nico is to approaching them.

“Will,” says Nico seriously, grabbing his hands. Will’s eyes snap to his, wide, wider than usual, and they are so blue, so so blue, are things usually this blue? He’s startled by it every time. “Will, I am a sine function.”

“I don’t understand,” he admits.

Nico nods. “That’s okay! Just — peaches.” He reaches out and pats the fruit, curling Will’s fingers around them. “For you. Okay?”

Will glances down at the peach. He glances back up at Nico. He looks down, finally, at their hands, twined around the fruit, and holds there, one, two, three seconds.

“Oh,” he says, finally. “Oh, you don’t — oh.”

“Peaches,” Nico repeats, “oranges.” He pulls one hand free and draws a line between them. “You get it?”

“I get it,” Will says, softly. He looks up and smiles, small, private; too-big front teeth just barely peeling out. “You never reach your approached value.”

“I really don’t even get that close.”

“I’m kind of losing the metaphor, here.”

“Okay.”

Nico squeezes their hands together. Will squeezes back, shifting his weight.

“I’m still gonna — you still gotta get your vitamin C.”

“More oranges?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” He rubs his finger over the backs of Will’s knuckles; he shivers. Nico meets his eyes and he smiles, widely, hurting his cheeks, and Will smiles back, and he rocks, and Nico is an abyss, and he is falling, falling, falling. “I like oranges.”

[punkeropercyjackson]

The treatment of Momo by Bnha fans is fucking horrifying.Within canon while it's true Horikoshi sexualizes her,it's still said multiple times she's still a child-Aizawa literally SAID she's still mentally a 15 year old girl and rn she's only 16.In the same episode,Shouto recognizes he's been accidentally been ignoring her emotional needs and feels awful about so he makes it up to her with the 'One of those vote's was mine!' speech and always looking out for and taking care of her from then on because he thinks she deserves it and loves her as a person.It's also canon Momo is as is important to him as Izuku is,hates Bakugou due to his extreme toxic masculinity,wasn't allowed to be a real kid to be raised to be the perfect proper lady instead,has her own unique diverse dynamics with other girls and gets anxiety attacks when treated as older than she is

And YET.Everybody calls her a mom.She gets defanged of her 'silk hiding steel' archetype to replace it with her being a doormart in female form,which is what society thinks women should be.Her goofy silly side that comes out when she's happy like the 'bouncy Momo' moment when her classmates asked her for help with classes and she took it as an excuse to bring them over to her house because she's just a little girl who wanted to play with her friends is completely erased to make her the wet blanket.Her naivetee is flanderized from not understanding social norms and normal teenage girls to her being essentially born sexy yesterday.Todomomo is downplayed nonstop with the 'cisheteronormativity' excuse by white gays who don't know what trans love is and that Momo is as autistic-coded as Shouto because they think autism is a boydisorder.Todomomo is considered a Bakugou involved triangle,the ONLY guy Momo's age she actively hates and that told Shouto he dosen't care he was abused and treats him that way too with zero remorse for either.Her girl ships are turned into background token wlw for the creators to prove they're not misogynists only to out themselves as deadass lesbophobes.Dadzawa and Momo gets jackshit and so does Fatgum Intern Momo despite all the posts she should've been one with the 'women❤that's enough feminism for today i think' ahh beat.All the her and Dabi content is him being a pedophile as he's not literally a child by r*pe who hates his dad for being abusive and as if they don't have tons of potential for being platonic soulmates and found siblings,including that Momo's love interest is Dabi's little brother so they'd literally be in-laws so it all comes together and i've met exactly one person that recognizes the sisterly potential with her and Himiko and nobody's ever brought the parallel between Shouto and Himiko becoming obsessed with Momo and Ochako for the same reason(their specific hero skills)but the stark contrast in dynamics

It's INSANE the way she's potrayed in fanon vs how she actually is and her untappedness that has so much range.Bnha fans not only saw the misogyny and treated it as a part of it instead of a flaw but somehow made it WORSE.LIKE WAY WORSE,FOR MOMO MOST OF ALL!!!!!!Y'all ain't ever making it out of the patriarchy

[starii-void]

hc that leo valdez eats thigns like peanut butter and nutella straight out the jar when he’s hungry/bored but too lazy to get anything to eat

Jason, looking for Leo in the Argo II: Hey Leo, how’s the progress on-

Leo, holding a jar of nutella and a spoon as he’s trying to figure out the schemes for something:

Jason:

Leo:

Leo: Look. I wanted sugar. I’m stressed

Jason: The dining room exists for a reason. You created it-

Leo, gesturing at the nutella jar, then at his schematics: Don’t question my ways.