#adhd peter parker

[starrykites]

every spiderman is trans and has adhd and autism. source? me!

[comfortmarvelimagines]

Headcanons request for Tony Stark’s daughter and tony being overprotective when someone says something mean in public when you stim. Thank you

(Except I liked this so much it became a full fic. Can be read standalone or as WYCFTQ)

You truly never understood the value neurotypicals placed on spontaneity. Its opposite, routine was everything that kept you grounded; safe, predictable, generally within your scope of capacity. Your worst days were the ones that were shoved off kilter by a change in plans, a cancellation, a meltdown that threw your timetable for a loop. You went to school, went to the tower, went home. That was your world. Small, but anything bigger felt unmanageable. Even that was barely manageable. So when Tony announced a surprise for you and Peter on an afternoon where school let off early, you felt unbalanced.

“Mr Stark, pleaaaaaseeeee tell us I literally can’t wait. I might die,” Peter, ever-impatient and fuelled by ADHD after his meds had worn off for the day, was literally vibrating with suspense. As opposed to your drained stillness, feeling like the floor had collapsed under you.

“You’ll like it, that’s all I’m giving you. Patience is a virtue, young one,” Tony raised an eyebrow at Peter, feigning a lecture. “And you’ll be fine,” he turned to you. “We’ve practiced using your strategies. We’ll bring stim toys, your headphones, and I’ve asked where we’re going to turn the lights down and music off to make it accessible. And they listened, because I’m me. We can leave as soon as you need, and you’ve got your communication device to tell us if you’re non-verbal. You’ve got this. It’ll be good for you, and for this hyped one over here,“ he ruffled Peter’s hair. “Capische? Good. Let’s go.”

Tony drove, but kept the music fairly low key. Peter was bouncing in the front seat, animatedly keeping a running list of all the possibilities that got increasingly far-fetched as Tony refused even the slightest hint. You had to admit, even through the snowdrift of anxiety that felt like it was building by the second, it was pretty funny. Amusing, even. Eventually, the Audi pulled into the parking lot of a mall and as he swung it in to park in the electric vehicle charging station, Tony pulled a baseball cap on low over his eyes.

“Alright, you ready?”

Peter was already halfway out of the car before the engine had been cut off. Tony turned to you. “Well, clearly someone is”, he gestured to Peter. “You doin’ okay?” At your nod, he continued in a near-whisper. “We’re going to a toy store. There’s Lego and sensory stuff for days, and I promise you’ll like it. But if it’s too much, I’m right here, and you’ve got your device to communicate. You say the word and we leave, no hesitation, okay?” At the mention of where you were going, you started happy flapping and bounced in your seat. Sensory stuff AND lego? Fuck yeah!!!! Some of the anxiety snowdrift melted back down and you got out to join Peter, who still had no idea where you were going and looked like the fact was making him positively implode. It was funny just how different you were, yet how you were both going to love this place.

At some point between the car and the store, you grabbed Tony’s hand. It was grounding, which you needed when the sensory overload of the general mall walkthrough got disorienting. You stopped, fluorescent lights searing into your brain and the beginning of the meltdown urge to run crept up your spine. Peter, miles ahead and oblivious to just about everything except the mystery destination, kept going, but Tony pulled your noise canceling headphones out of his jacket pocket. “You left these in the car,” he said by way of explanation, “And we’re nearly there. You’ve got this.” Resolve strengthened, you pulled the headphones over your ears, pressing the button on the side, hoodie pulled up, determined. If nothing else, you were going to get there for Peter’s sake- he might explode from excitement if it wasn’t soon.

In line with Tony’s promise, the toy store was bliss. The lights were dimmed and corporate music absent (thank Thor, and whatever other gods are out there), and the Lego. Oh my god, the LEGO. Rows of Star Wars and flowers and little city buildings and a huge tub of loose pieces, next to a free play table in the centre of the display. Sticking your hands deep into the cool plastic pieces felt positively heavenly, and in forgetting anyone else was around you were stimming freely in unfiltered joy. Vocal stimming, too.

“Surely you’re too old to be making those sorts of noises. I mean, I’d expect them from my 2 year old grandchild, not at your big age.”

The admonishment came from a woman, somewhere between middle- and old-age, making her way over to you from the baby doll section. You froze. She meant you? You were so happy you hadn’t been masking, not forcing the happy stimmy noises down the way you typically did when in the presence of others.

“Yes, you, don’t look at me all stunned. What are you doing in here anyway? You look too old to be playing, with Lego or with anything else.”

Fear felt like it was shutting down your access to comprehensible thought. Like moving through jelly, you pulled the lanyard around your neck forward to show the woman the pin. It was a green sunflower lanyard, the hidden disabilities awareness kind, and the button read “Please do not touch me. I’m Autistic.” You felt a distressed sound come from the back of you throat, whining, that you just couldn’t push down. Tony Tony whERE IS TONY?

“Hey y/n, have you seen-“

“Oh, so you’re special. That’s nice of your… people… to bring you out like this. You know, into the community.”

“What the fuck did you just say to my kid.”

The baseball cap was off. Tony had come from the back of the store, from the sensory section with Peter, and stepped straight into the middle of the degrading, one-sided conversation you were now trying to practice your breathing exercises through. You’d practiced them a million times, with Tony, Peter, Nat, Bucky, everyone said to practice because when the time came you needed them to work but right now you weren’t sure they were enough because you felt like you were drowning. Special. You weren’t fucking special, not in the way she meant it, you were just Autistic and Autistic is fine, Autistic isn’t bad, you had as much right to be here as anyone else but that word was making your ears ring, and you felt like your head was underwater and you couldn’t breathe and your hands were flapping but not in the good way in the too much bad energy need to get it out way. You needed weight, pressure, grounding, to be crushed, and, no longer paying attention to the conversation between Tony and the stranger, you pulled your AAC forward from its crossbody strap.

“Squeeze. Tony.”

“Okay, kid, yes, squeeze. I hear you.” You basically body slammed him as he crouched down to your level, and you hummed in relief as the hug was all the input your nervous system was craving. He turned to speak over the top of you.

“I need you to leave. Now. You had no right to say what you did. This is a public place, and my kid deserves access in the way that works for them. That includes stimming, and playing, in the way that brings them joy. I hope you learn from this.”

You assumed she left, because he didn’t say anything else. You stayed, tightly held, until you pulled back from the hug cautiously.

“Do you want to leave?” You shook your head. No. As awful as that whole interaction had been, getting here was a task and you didn’t feel you had made it worth it yet. “Want to see the sensory toys?” Yes yes yes a million times yes. Nodding wasn’t enough; with trepidation, a little of the flappy happy hands broke through. Not fully, though. The word ‘special’ still echoed in the back of your mind, unwanted and uncomfortably present.

The sensory toy section was pure magic. There were bubble tubes, tactile fidgets, bouncy seats, spinners, lights, glitter bottles, projectors, a reversible sequin dinosaur, acupressure rings, a cocoon swing hanging from a frame… It was like a goldmine of sensory wonder. As you joined Peter in discovery, little by little the mask you put up melted away and you were spinning, joyfully bouncing on the balls of your feet, happy vocal stims free and unjudged. And if Tony was putting aside one of everything you showed interest in to purchase and bring home with you, well, of course he was. If he couldn’t make the ableist public go away, the least he could do was provide you with the safest, most inclusive and loving home possible.

Tag list

@peggycarter-steverogers

[emmedoesntdomath]

someone please please please write a song fic with would’ve should’ve could’ve (taylor swift) with trans peter (ftm) in the aftermath of skip, and the sexuality crisis, and internalized homophobia because of what that awful man did, and oh my god I would pay for this I swear

[side-shuffling-hyperfixations]

what are the three peters' hyperfixations?

They all share their interest in science and tech, of course, but as for their individual fixations, I tend to write them with these in mind ^^ Not much of a surprise!

Peter One: Star Wars, Lego, (formerly) Iron Man

Peter Two: photography, drawing, poetry

Peter Three: skateboarding, music (piano and guitar), family members and family history

[send-noodles-not-nudes]

"How's the wing?" he asked, gesturing toward the one he'd broken. He could see the tiniest of bald spots where she was missing a couple of feathers from the surgery, but it looked like it was in the early stages of growing back. He'd seen pictures of how birds regrew feathers in his biology textbooks from school, but that didn't change the fact that it looked incredibly strange. Little tubes poked out from the skin just before the curve of the wing, fluffy black feathers just beginning to sprout from them. It looked wildly uncomfortable, and he was suddenly relieved that he didn't have to deal with wings. His slingers could be a pain in their own right with plenty of drawbacks, but he was glad they weren't literally attached to him. And what if he had to regrow his own webs? With how much web fluid he went through in a week, he shuddered to think of how much protein he'd have to eat just to make up for all the web-building. He'd gotten so lost in his thoughts that almost forgot that he'd tried to start a conversation with her by the time she answered. 

@totallynotqueer figured I'd tag you over here since Q's kind of a shithole now but Peter having an AuDHD moment will never not be funny to me

Making a simple greeting and immediately getting lost in his own thoughts about the answer before it even comes out

Idk it's just peak AuDHD shit and I love it

[sharkwing]

[mustasekittens]

grad school + vigilantism = too much stress | my peter design | more mundane sillies

[ramen8008]

[Tony and Peter eating dinner]

Peter: *eats a bite, gets up with fork in hand and walks out*

Tony: ????

Peter: *walks back in* where was I going?

Tony: yeah I was wondering

[buglover77]

oh, so when SPIDER-MAN can sense a bug moving on the wall across the room, doesn’t have the fine motor control to get the right amount of toothpaste, and can feel each individual drop of sweat down his neck, it’s a “super power,” but for me it’s a “sensory processing disorder” yeah okay sounds fake doc I think you just don’t want me to stop you from committing crimes, how about THAT

[yeetus-feetus]

In another universe far far away:

the sound of a door slamming open loudly echoes through the messy apartment. A loud mothed idiot drags a begrudging and tired older man behind him and through the entrance, towards a new beginning.

"Hello Spidey~ Babycakes! I'm home from war~" the idiot calls out to his roommate-

And they were roommates!

the hairy peanut eyes the idiot with a slight look of confusion, his cute frown lines deepening; his mouth opens to say something but there's a faint crash from the other end of the apartment as a handsome young man flings himself from one the rooms, wearing nothing but generic flannel pajama pants.

"WADE! where the hell have you been!?" handsome shouts, a variety of emotion showing through his tone. mostly anger and relief.

"ah ah ah, your line is 'Hello sailor!' like those silly video skits on the clock app that I can't legally name", the idiot corrects. unfortunately resulting in a fist to the gut.

"you son of a bitch! I thought you ran away again and left me behind!" yeah definitely mostly anger.

handsome goes to throw a second punch but Wade catches it before it lands. "Calm down now sweetums, daddy was out saving the world. More specifically, this timeline- newsflash babyboy, I'm Marvel Jesus now".

"Does anything you say ever make any sense!?" handsome growls, going in for a right hook with his free hand, but Marvel H. Christ catches that one too.

handsome looks up at Wade as tears form in his eyes, his bottom lip quivers and he breaks into a quiet sob as he buries his face in Wade's chest. Wade lets Peter's hands go so they can wrap around him instead. "i thought you left me", is mumbled against tear-soaked red leather-

red leather yellow leather red leather yellow leather, try saying that 3x fast

"ahem", the tired honey badger coughs loudly, "am I... interrupting something? I can leave-"

"Not a chance Peanut! I'm not letting you get away that easily~" the idiot lets go of his peter and spins around to face the older man, "now let's get you two introduced! Wolvie, this is Spidey-"

Wade turns to face the still teary-eyed younger man. "And Peter, this is... this is Logan. he's going to be staying with us for the foreseeable future."

Peter looks between Logan and Wade; silence falls over the room- which is ridiculously unbelievable considering Deadpool is one of the people in it.

"Uhm, y'know... if that's alright with you, Petey-pie", the idiot corrects.

"Wade is that THE fucking Wolverine!? What the fuck!?" Peter finally asks in complete and utter disbelief. "isn't he dead? died saving some girl none of us have heard of since? like dead-dead, not coming back kind of dead!?"

"Okay honeybunch, calm your nickers and get your tits out of a twist, I'll explain everything over tea after a nice hot shower, how's that sound?" the idiot explains in a calm voice, hands up in a placating manner. "Now, anyone care to join me?"

Peter huffs and crosses his arms at the same time Logan snickers and rolls his eyes, catching each other's attention once more. "how 'bout I do the talking and you get your loud as mouth in that fucking shower", Peanut suggests.

"That works", Peter says shortly. Both men look towards Wade, who's shoulders slump as he sighs deeply.

"Suit yourselves ladies, but you're really missing oouutt~". the only thing he gets in response are two tired glares. Oh boy, what has he signed himself up for?

"Alright, I'm going I'm going!" Wade puts his arms up in surrender as he backs up towards the bathroom. These two are no fun.

Peter turns to Logan then. "So, how do you prefer your tea?" he asks, heading for the kitchen.

"I prefer whiskey."

-To Be Continued-

[erinwantstowrite]

Erin please

Drop timeline of Peter's fosterhomes

I am just dumb and cannot compute when is who or who is when (*_*;

peter will be telling dick all about them in chapter 15!! afterwards, i plan to write out a post here for everyone to see the list of homes he had and in what order. i might have to be reminded though after the chapter comes out cause i'm pretty scatterbrained lately

[side-shuffling-hyperfixations]

Now that I think about it, the Peters might end up needing to engineer their own fidget toys that are capable of withstanding their strength. If they’re always restraining their punches, there’s probably an element of restraining their stims and fidgets too because they could break them if they get too overzealous. 

Imagine how much fun they’d have together building their own, though, to their exact specifications of color and size and feel and just being able to go to town on ’em :D They could probably set up an online store for them too so they’d know other people wouldn’t be getting cheap or fragile materials either.

[logansgaar]

I've decided the reason Peter and Bucky haven't interacted in live action in almost 9 years is because the multiverse could never handle all that superpowered AuDHD rizz

[always---wrong]

After the Deadpool movie came out I watched the series for the first time and now I'm into Spideypool fics. But can someone answer a question for me?

Why does it seem that Peter's humorous personality is never included? Like, he makes no jokes and silly one liners. Basically no self reprimanding but funny comments. He doesn't seem to have his never stop talking-ness that I've come to enjoy. All the humor is given to Deadpool. And it's like that in every fic.

I'm getting upset at this point.

[ladiesandgentlehobbits]

Everyone who has ever written a dc/marvel crossover has ignored the obvious fact that Bart Allen and Peter Parker would be best friends

[juliluvhz]

tutor

warnings :: adhd reader

tasm!peter Parker x reader

_

“i don’t get it”

you said dryly, clicking your pen as peter groaned

“what do you mean you don’t- I’ve been through it like 3 times now”

Peter sighed, snatching the pen off you to end the constant clicking, now it was your turn to sigh

“I don’t wanna do math”

you lay back on peters bed, your legs leaning up the wall as you kicked your legs back and forth against it

“your the reason my neighbours hate me”

“Well maybe i hate your neighbours, whad’ya they think think of that?”

You heard petet shut the text books that set next to you and pushed them onto the floor, then grabbing your legs so they were on his lap now instead of the wall

“your lucky your parents pay me ya know”

you nodded, not really listening as your eyes darted across peters cracked ceiling

“your ceiling is really cracked.. oh! you know my friend lina? she fell in a pothole the other day and broke her ankle”

you spoke as if it was nothing. It was silent for a second

“Oh, that’s.. relevant”

Peter said hesitantly, a little confused of how random you are at times

“oh my god!”

you yelled sitting up excitedly

“what what!?”

Peter asked, jumping as you sat up

“now im dizzy”

you held a hand to your head, waiting for the diziness to subside

“okay i feel better”

you said, sitting up straight now

“what were you saying, princess?”

Peter said, trying to remind you of what you were speaking about before, but all he reminded you of was the butterflies in your stomach

“oh i forgot”

you shrugged your shoulder, grabbing the books from off the floor

“Teach me maths, we have a quiz tomorrow”

you said and grabbed your pen back, waiting for Peter to get his

“but i-

“Shut up and teach mee”

—

that was pretty boring guys