#apd also making it hard for me to understand them too

[chronic-cane]

You know maybe the adhd med shortage wouldn't waste as many of my spoons if I didn't have to wait for the number to give "speak to the pharmacist" as the last option on the phone, then transfer me to a hold line with shitty music, only to ask "hey do you have this med in stock?" Which takes less time than the operator going through all possible options with 5 different advertisements for the pharmacy

Oh, and if my state didn't bar me from getting my paper prescription in the middle of the shortage. That would've also helped a bit.

[creatingblackcharacters]

Adding on to the last anon, I have APD and I'm HoH and it's just a blatant excuse to be racist if you're claiming that APD makes rap hard to listen to. There's tons of music out there that's way more chaotic and nonrythmic. Like, you just *so happen* to be unable to listen to a genre of music pioneered by black people, but you can listen to death metal??? what a coincidence. I'm sure you don't have any internal biases at all.

I think the bit too is, "not being able to understand" has never stopped my enjoyment of music. I don't understand a lick of Arabic or Hindu but it has not stopped me from jamming out. I know for a fact a lot of these people don't understand Korean but will vibe out to KPop (me included!) bobbing their head along phonetically. So.... Understanding rhythm, if not the words, is also possible!

Plus, even the people who do rap super fast or on "chaotic" tracks (and you don't have to listen to them!) are still often very impressive. We make jokes about it now, but Busta Rhymes on Look At Me Now is spitting at a speed most of us cannot do, and is STILL pronouncing all his words! The skill alone is impressive enough to go "damn!"

Like you don't have to tell us why you don't like rap. You can say nothing! But when you do say why, and those reasons are visibly racist... You can't be upset when Black people see that and point it out.

[finestmindsmonty]

could you expand more on ur thoughts of darry having a auditory processing disorder?

Yes. Yes I can.

so this is honestly entirely a personal HC and I mean if I looked hard enough I could find textual evidence but. I don’t know how much there is. This is just me being like what if my favorite guy had The Thing.

So my thoughts on him specifically with this

he has a hella hard time understanding people talking fast. Like. If you speak quickly to him he’s just gonna stare at you. He won’t tell you it’s too fast (result of the ultimate anxiety) he’ll just look at you until you ask what’s up. The whole gang knows to slow it down for him tho, so if he’s giving them a blank look they know why.

HOWEVER. He himself is a fast talker. Like APD a lot of the time includes talking slow but not him. He talks so fucking fast and then tries to look back on what he said and goes “what the fuck did I just say” like if he were yelling at Ponyboy for something and pony said “why would you say that” bro would genuinely have to think hard to figure out exactly what he said because he was talking too fast and he didn’t let his brain hold the words before letting them fly out and be lost for eternity.

if someone gives him directions or tells him something he needs to remember it He Will Not Remember. He absolutely does not retain verbal information. School was a bitch for this, and it makes him feel guilty that he doesn’t miss school at all because of it. If that sentence made sense give me a sign.

and ofc The Thing which I mentioned earlier.

Soda: Darry what’s for dinner?

Darry: What?

Soda: What’s for-

Darry: OH! hamburgers.

(I would like to note that I myself do/have a lot of these things but idk if it’s actually APD or not cause. Yeah. But a lot of this is taken from my google info of APD from when I was crazy in love with learning about like. What word would I use for this. Like hearing disorders? I was hyper focused on that research. And also it is taken from things I do myself. Because why not)

Edit yall can add with ur thoughts on this plz do

[deafaq]

I'm sorry to ask this, it must be a pain for it to be asked. But it's been freezing me from talking to my doctor again.

Two years ago my hearing was tested, and I had mild high range hearing loss but lower ranges were within normal limits. I was meant to get tested again after 12 months, because these results had been a decline from those a year prior. My doctor forgot and I never reminded him because I felt like such an idiot, having so much trouble hearing people when it wasn't APD and only the high range was affected.

It's gotten worse, though, undoubtedly. I'm pretty sure it cost me a job interview within the first minute yesterday. Didn't make it into the elevator before I had to lift my hand to my ear and ask the interviewer to repeat herself. The first question she asked me when we got upstairs was if I was going to need accommodation for my hearing disability. I had to ask her to repeat that too. It's been echoing in my head since.

I feel like such a fool. I'm sorry to ask a random blog this. Where is the line between "eh, not the best test result but your hearing is fine" and "hard of hearing"? Because it's gotten to the point where all the oral d/Deaf people I meet ask me if I'm d/Deaf or HoH within a minute of conversation and I'm starting to think maybe I should be going back to my doctor to remind him he was meant to send me to the audiologist again. But I also know that will be a while before they can see me and if I do get a call back from this job I'm going to need to be able to say yes or no about whether I'm HoH. And I internally struggle to deal with grey areas, I've realised I took my doctor forgetting as evidence I had nothing wrong and I think I need to know whether or not these incidents are actually positioning me as a HoH person before I could feel okay telling an employer that. Or the disability employment agency when I tell them why I didn't get the job despite them not having documents about my hearing.

Do you have any advice on where the line between "mild hearing loss but it's fine" and "Hard of Hearing" is?

I am sorry to hear about your struggles. It sounds like life has been difficult.

I would definitely call you hard of hearing. If you struggle in communications in every day life and have to ask people to repeat themselves, that's hard of hearing qualification. Based on your description, I have my doubts this falls under "mild hearing loss" - to me, it sounds like moderate or even severe. "Mild" hearing loss covers stuff like "needing tv a bit louder" and "not understanding that well in a loud pub". If you are in "i dont understand another person in 1 to 1 conversation and have to ask them to repeat it", thats definitely more serious hearing loss.

I urge you to contact your doc asap and get your appointment with audiologist. The best accomodation for moderate hearing loss is hearing aids and they really do improve one's quality of life.

If you are asking what falls under "hard of hearing" legally, that I can't tell you, sadly. This widly differs from country to country and usually requires audiogram (hearing test results).

Keep in mind that most hearing loss isn't uniform across the board. People often either lose high tones or low tones. The biggest question is whether your ranges cover human speech. If you lose hearing in the frequencies where human speech is produced, you are gonna struggle with understanding and I definitely recommend hearing aids. You also mentioned "she" - if the interviewer is a woman, those usually have higher voices (not always, of course, but its more common) and therefore people with high frequencies loss have troubles understanding them.

If interviewer calls you back and asks about it specifically, you can tell them you have hearing loss that recently got worse and you mean to get apointment soon.

I dont think doctor forgetting is indicative of anything, really, with the amount of patients they see every day, these things tend to slip their mind.

Hope this helped,

Mod T

[decentgarbage]

BYI +BEFORE WE BECOME MOOTS

Gen BYI (basically for new comers, people who wanna do art trades w/me, etc.):

I’m a minor (15), so if that makes you uncomfortable, if recommended you leave

From the time I’m posting this, it’s near the end of the year for school, and have a lot going on, the main point here is I’m REALLY busy sometimes, so if you wanna do an art trade with me or a collab, don’t expect it to be done immediately

THIS IS A SELF SHIPPING BLOG, sometimes I post about things about stuff that isn’t self ship related, but most of the time you’ll see self ship content (mainly for comfort!!), so if that makes you uncomfortable, you can leave

On the topic of self shipping, I’m a huge Tsukasa self shipper, like HUGE!! And I’m usually uncomfortable with other ships with him, and when people self ship/crush on him, to others this may seem silly but it genuinely makes me uncomfortable

I’m an atheistic satanist, and I try to make that clear, so if you don’t believe in that stuff, it’s fine!! I won’t attack you! But if you are uncomfortable with that, I recommend you block and move on

I vent sometimes but it’s rare (this isn’t a vent blog dw). If you don’t want to deal with that, block the tag “Pointless Vents”

Before we become moots or friends (self explanatory):

I’m diagnosed autistic!! So I struggle to understand social cues, a hard time focusing, struggle with communication, experience burnout, and a whole lot of stuff, please be patient with me, and if I say/do something to make you uncomfortable, please just tell me and I’ll try to keep it in mind

PLEASE FOR THE LIFE OF ME USE TONE TAGS!! I don’t know when someone is coming off as rude or if they’re being genuine so PLEASE use them

Sometimes I say slurs (I reclaim) ummm not all the time, but if it makes you uncomfortable lmk and I won’t do it in front of you!!

If you need a break or block me and we’re moots/friends, let me know first!! I won’t be mad about it and will be understanding. I also struggle with trauma, and a whole lot of stuff, and blocking me without any warning makes me feel awful

DONT BE AFRAID TO SET BOUNDARIES WITH ME, I may have stuff that I struggle with and things yeah, but you do too!! If I do/say something that makes you uncomfortable, just say it and I won’t do it again, boundaries make things a lot more of a safe space!

Although I will listen, I struggle with comforting people and stuff when others are venting, although I’m getting better at it, I may not be the first person to go to to vent, I’d recommend you ask before venting to me, and I’ll try my best to respond!!

If we’re ever on call and I ask “what did you say?” Like… 20 billion times, that’s probably my apd! I have a hard time processing what people say to me and it can be really confusing at times so yea :P

If you see something you think I won’t like, use the tag “Lane dont look”

That’s about it I think!! I might add more in the future

[ordinaryspy]

Disabled Heros: Mirage (part 3)

Izuku Midoria is a teacher at UA, Katsuki Bakugou is the number 3 pro hero Great Explosion Murder God Dynamite. This takes the perspective of a new student with invisible disabilities, specifically APD (auditory processing disorder), and dyslexia.

(In part 2, Zeri meets their homeroom teacher, Mr. Midoria and experiences challenges hearing instructions. They make their first friend, Kobi.)

During lunch, I sat with Kobi and a few others of my class mates. Himari Ojiro, the invisible tail girl had forgiven me. It seemed that she was quick to anger, but also quick to forgive. Two other kids, Ema Sato and Itami Nakamura. I learned that Kobi's quirk involved changing the density of something. He could make them lighter or heavier, but he had a range of what he could do.

"....so whenever I change the density of something too much, it gives me a huge migraine and its almost impossible to do anything. It takes up to a day to recover too."

"Aw man. That sounds really $@&^#¥£." Ema (as she insisted we call her) said. Kobi nodded.

"Your quirk is angel wings, right?" Asked Kobi. She laughed. Her laugh was memorizing, like seeing things through a kaleidoscope.

"No! My quirk is *ankle* wings! It mostly just let's me walk in the air like I walk on the ground. By itself, its not very powerful." She pouted. They might as well be angel wings, I thought, somehow she's even lovely when she's pouting. Her voice was so clear and sweet that I could understand her even in the loud cafeteria.

"What about you? Your name is Nakamura, right? How does your quirk work? Zeri missed the first part of class, so she doesn't know."

"Oh, uh, actually I go by they/them." It always felt a little bit awkward correcting people, but I learned that it was best to tell people right away. "Im a shape shifter, so I sometimes present as different genders. I dont wanna complicate things, so I just go by they."

"Oh, sorry!"

"You didn't know, so you're all good." We turned back to the small-ish girl sitting across the table. She had dark brown, curly hair and golden eyes.

"Oh, uh, my quirk is Bleed out. The more I'm bleeding, the stronger I get."

"Oh my!" Ema gasped gently, her thin fingers going to her moth as it made and O shape.

"Yeah," Nakamura chuckled a little and tossed her short, messy hair, "I get that reaction a lot. Self-destructive quirks aren't very common, and they can kinda freak people out. %!$&*¥₩€°¥ tried to talk me out of being $ %$!¥₩€, but honestly, I think my quirk is perfect for the job."

"People always told me I wouldn't make a good hero too," I said, "but less because of my quirk than because I'm hard to work with."

"I seee..." Ema looked at me with her big, light purple eyes, "we can learn to work with you if you promise to try to work with us!" She grinned at me like she had just solved the problem so many teachers and peers had complained about my whole life, and somehow, I believed her.

"Ema believes in everything and everyone. I should know, I went to school with her before this." Ojiro gestured at the beaming girl beside her, "she's very much a 'leave no ₩£#$ behind' kind of person."

I nodded. The hero course often attracted students like that.

"So Z, can I call you that? How does your quirk work?" Nakamura asked the question.

"Oh! I can change my physical body to some degree. I can change my weight about 15lb either direction and also my height and strength. But I can only make myself a little bit stronger than I actually am. That's one of the things I wanna work on. And sure, you guys can call me Z if you want!" I smiled widely. This was going to be a great year.

*PART 3*

[apdfoundationrepairfl]

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[lambda-core]

I guess it's such a strange perspective to me because like

People with foreign accents can be difficult to understand for abled people, too. But languages are hard to learn. Even if my APD is making it a problem, putting in the effort to understand them still doesn't hold a candle to the effort of learning another language. Yes even with my disability. Wtf

When someone's accent is severely impacting my ability to understand them, it's usually because it's compounding with something that would also make it hard to understand someone speaking with my own accent—like being in a really loud restaurant

Auditory processing disorders are surprisingly misunderstood. Not just by abled people or people outside of the psych field, but by other disabled people, other neurodivergent people, and professionals who don't work with them often. Even other HoH people.

"I can't understand anyone with foreign accents because of my APD" isn't just a stupid sheltered take. It's weaponizing people's lack of understanding about the disorder to be racist. It's not ableist to call it when you see it.

Ngl in general people will use APD to say the most racist shit imaginable and it pisses me off so bad, but the worst is definitely "I hate when my professors are from other countries because I can't understand their accents!" Been professionally diagnosed with APD for ten years now! That's not your APD, you're just sheltered. Hope this helps

[justapoet]

For a Tarlos - prompt TK & Carlos sharing a bath together

Thank you for the prompt! I really hope you like it :)

if i share my thoughts with you, would you share your life with me?

After a shift from hell, Carlos could use a little bit of kindness.

1.5k

Usually, TK would be the one to show up covered in dirt and dust ― and blood, considering his incredibly bad luck. Even after becoming a paramedic, the new-yorker would find a way to put himself in danger or end up in a hospital bed, and Carlos could swear he'd have gray hair at the age of thirty-five because of his reckless and way too selfless boyfriend.

But that night, he was the one covered in dust, dirt, blood, and exhaustion when he finally came home from a twenty-four-hour shift. There were bad days, but, honestly, that was one of the worst. Not only because he ended up having to be checked up by doctors after having to face a maniac with a knife, rolling down a hill to catch him ― at least this part went right ― and ending up with some scratches and superficial cuts, which took him two extra hours of work, but also because he barely had talked to TK the whole day.

He knew his boyfriend would spend the day with the 126 crew, Nancy and Grace included, once they all had a day off, and he didn't want to send a message and interrupt anything, nor worry TK with his tired voice through a phone call. So he just kept quiet, call after call, checking his phone periodically as always. At some time in the middle of the day, TK had sent "I love you" and "just so you don't forget", which made Carlos smile sweetly, replying that he loved him too.

Carlos checked his phone again when he got to the car after getting out of the station, but there were no new messages but his Tía Lucy and her "good night" images with a cliché phrase. Since there were no messages from TK, his first thought was that the paramedic would spend the night at his father's house ― and his, too, Carlos needed to remind himself. TK spent a lot of time at Carlos' place, but they didn't live together, after all; and the cop did want that to happen, but they were taking it slow, after all. So he just kept quiet and bit his tongue every time he wanted to ask TK to move in.

He sighed when passed the door, letting his bag by the door frame and his keys inside the bowl on the sideboard, feeling all his muscles aching as the day finally rests over his shoulders. He bent his body forward, closing his eyes for a second as his foot stopped by the first step of the stair. His body ached enough for him to consider sleeping on the couch without even showering.

And then he heard bare feet steps getting closer fastly, but stopping suddenly. He looked up, seeing a, now, worried TK dressed in one of his APD shirts, looking at him with frowned eyebrows and shiny green eyes. He must've sensed Carlos' confusion and slight surprise as he slowly went down the stairs to meet him, his hands hesitating for a second before touching his right cheek.

Carlos bent to the touch, sighing and holding his feelings in before giving in to the tears he'd been holding the whole day. He just wished it could end soon.

"What happened to you?" TK asked carefully, his voice low and caring. Carlos shrugged, his shoulders bending even more.

"Bad day," he said, simply. "Thought you'd be at your house" confessed while the shiny eyes analyzed him up and down.

"Tommy called me saying you rolled down a hill with a maniac and a knife," he said, his thumb carefully caressing Carlos' cheekbone. "And that you ended up in a hospital to be checked up, even if nothing major happened".

"Sorry I didn't call you" his voice was barely a whisper.

"She also said you seemed to be having a hard day" TK continued, ignoring his apologies. "And might need a little bit of kindness".

Carlos swallowed his tears, even if his voice sounded hoarse and heavy with them, next.

"Think I could use that," he said, and TK smiled gently. He didn't say more, then, his hand resting on Carlos' lower back and the other taking his hand, carefully putting his arm around his shoulders. Carlos could walk by himself, but having TK close was good and calming, so he allowed himself to be taken care of, this once.

Their way was slow and quiet to the bedroom and, then, the bathroom, with TK carefully leading them both. They stopped close to the bathtub, and the paramedic stood in front of him and smiled kindly before making him sit on the toilet and checking the water temperature, which made Carlos realize that he'd already let everything ready for when he came home.

"Did the doctors say something?" TK asked, his voice low and his hands finding their way to Carlos' clothes. "Can I?" he asked again, and the cop nodded before closing his eyes as TK unbuttoned his uniform.

"That I'd feel sore for a while," he said, his voice just as low as his boyfriend's. "My captain gave me a few days off because of that".

TK smiled a little.

"So did mine" the paramedic answered, and Carlos' eyes widened a little. "She said that I owed her that after not taking days off work after all the hostage situation, months ago. I think she just wanted you not to be alone and was using it as an excuse. She likes you" concluded, his eyes getting lost on Carlos' body and shinning with worry with the bruises and shallow cuts.

"Don't know why" Carlos whispered, shrugging. TK's light eyes looked up at his tired face, and he moved to help Carlos to get up. Once on his feet, TK got closer to the man and scooped his face on his warm hands.

"I have a lot of reasons," he said. "A few more than the sky has of stars" his voice was sweet, and his boyfriend tried to smile, but stopped as the tears threatened to fall again. TK didn't say more, his hands ghosting over Carlos' side before helping him take his pants and underwear off.

He led Carlos to the bathtub and kept a hand on his arms as he let himself on the water, breathing deeply and bringing his legs close to his chest, his head against the wall as he closed his eyes. TK sat on the toilet, one of his hands on the water before he carefully caressed his wet fingers through Carlos' messy and short curls. Carlos sighed happily.

"Is your body hurting too much?" TK asked, breaking the silence. Carlos could lie and say that he was okay, but his mind was conscious of each aching muscle and nerve under his skin, and, honestly, he knew TK could read him easily.

"I can take it" he answered.

"Not quite what I asked, babe," TK said. "although I'm pretty sure about the answer. Did you eat today?" Carlos nodded.

"Spencer didn't let me forget," he said. TK hummed in agreement.

They stood quiet, then, with TK slowly moving his hands to clean Carlos' tan-skin. He could almost hear his boyfriend purring when he massaged his scalp with his shampoo to clean his hair and, once he was done, he took Carlos' fingers in his hands and kissed his knuckles sweetly. Carlos let out a happy sigh, relaxing under each touch of his boyfriend on his skin.

The bathtub was emptied once and then refilled so Carlos could relax a little more. When TK got up to prepare the bed for them to sleep, Carlos held his wrist and made him stop on his feet, looking down at the most lovely eyes he'd ever seen.

"You okay?" TK asked, and Carlos nodded, suddenly looking ashamed of whatever he was thinking. He looked down at the water and TK smiled fondly at the possibility of what was going on inside his head. "Do you want me to get in with you?" he asked, and Carlos looked surprised with the facility TK read his mind.

He nodded, though, and watched as TK took his ― stolen ― shirt off and then his underwear, coming closer and putting his hand on Carlos' shoulder. When they were comfortable, Carlos' back against TK's chest, the latino let himself relax completely and placed his head on the crook of the new yorker's neck.

They stood in silence for a few minutes, the warmth of the water and their bodies making them feel safe. TK's fingers drew patterns on each spot of Carlos' skin they could reach, making the man feel sleepy and cared about.

"Thought you'd be at your house" Carlos repeated his previous words, a whisper against TK's soft skin. He could sense that the paramedic smiled.

"Thought about coming home" he answered, softly, and Carlos took a few seconds to understand. He could feel TK's heart racing a bit under his skin, and a warm feeling spread across his chest. "If you let me," it mostly sounded like a suggestion or even a question. 

"Always" he whispered back. "And forever, if you want" now that, said as a suggestion, sounded more like a promise. TK smiled, Carlos could sense it, and so he pulled one of his hands out of the water to tangle their fingers together.

"Forever sounds good" he replied, his voice low and full of love and caring.

Suddenly, Carlos wouldn't mind if that day didn't come to an end.

[tngrace]

Tarlos Prompt: “You look really tired”

Love your writing 💗💗

Thank you nonnie. I'm so glad you love it ❤ these little messages encourage the muse to keep going ❤ this is gonna be a coda/extension of 2.03

Thanks @howtosingit for posting how far away San Angelo was from Austin.

Send me prompts from this list if you want. Probably gonna be closing it out soon, but I might find another list.

4 word prompts masterlist- find all completed fics & requests waiting to be written here.

The wildfire in San Angelo popped up at a terrible time. The 126 was still recovering from their loss at the hands of a freak volcano. Owen got the call early that they would be needed to help battle the wildfire. He broke the news to his team, and was met with silence but nods of understanding. It was the nature of the game, the job they'd all signed up for.

They were disappointed they weren't going to be there for Tim's funeral, but they all silently agreed to check in on that day. Judd said goodbye to Grace; Owen to Gwyn; and TK to Carlos, which had to be the hardest one. He was still feeling raw and vulnerable; he really didn't want to leave, but he knew he had to.

"Be safe," Carlos murmurs as he kisses TK goodbye.

"I will," TK says giving him a soft smile. They promise to check in as much as they can, and then TK is gone.

After a week of hard work, battles against the wind and time, and almost losing his dad, TK was ready to be home. His dad was awake and doing better, and the out of state teams were heading back home. TK couldn't wait until they were cleared.

He hadn't talked to Carlos since before the helicopter crash, so he found a quiet spot and pulled out his phone. He saw a few messages from him, and couldn't stop the smile from gracing his face despite the exhaustion he currently felt.

Michelle was in town for the funeral, and Carlos had gone with her, being the best friend ever. Michelle was also currently crashing in the spare bedroom, and Carlos had sent him some antidotes from their time. She was heading out tomorrow, Carlos would have one more day off, and TK was really hoping to be home by then, despite being sad he'd miss seeing Michelle.

He sent Carlos a text checking in, letting him know TK was safe, and that he really missed him. He wasn't expecting the immediate reply, but he couldn't stop the smile when it came. Carlos told him how much he'd missed him and that he couldn't wait for him to be home either.

TK was in a middle of a reply, when Judd walked by. "Come on lover boy. Let's go home," Judd calls making TK look up with a smile.

"Seriously?" He asks jumping up as Paul and Marjan walk by.

"Yes seriously. Now let's go. Get Cap and let's get home," Paul says as they start loading the truck.

"Sweet," TK smiles pocketing his phone and going to find his dad. He finds him in the tent gathering everything up, and TK takes his bag before helping him to the truck. They get him settled and it's not long and they're pulling out headed back for Austin.

TK sends Carlos a text telling him he'll see him soon, but not exactly when. He wants to surprise him. Everyone's talking about showers, food, and sleep, possibly at the station they're all so exhausted. "Not I," Judd pops up. "Yall can have the station. I'm going home," he says with that whipped love sick look he always gets when talking about Grace.

The team teases him and TK just shakes his head good-naturedly because he knows how Judd feels. He sends his mom a text too asking her to come to the station to get his dad. He doesn't trust him to drive yet, and he wants to make sure he gets home and gets a good sleep. She promises to meet them, and makes him promise he'll be safe getting to Carlos's.

Three and half hours later, the truck is pulling into the station. TK is so happy to be back. They all stop and give Buttercup some much needed love, but they're splitting off their separate ways after just a minute. Gwyn is waiting as promised, and TK stops to give her a tight hug more than happy to see her before she's pushing him off to the showers and turning her attention towards Owen.

TK decides to make it a quick one, washing all the sweat and grime away. He just wants to get home to Carlos. He's grabbing the first thing in his locker he can find, which just happens to be jeans and an APD hoodie, making him smile despite the fact it's lost Carlos's smell. He bids his teammates good bye, all of them earning four whole days off, before he's getting in his Uber and heading for home.

When he pulls up, he tips the driver and is out before he can even think about it. He's through the door in minutes, surprising both Carlos and Michelle. "Hey," he says bashfully when both pairs of eyes turn on him, exhaustion clear on his face.

"Hey," Carlos smiles jumping up and heading right for TK. He wraps him up in his arms, TK's bag falling to the floor forgotten. TK collapses against Carlos just breathing him in as he holds him tight. "This is a nice surprise," Carlos murmurs.

TK looks up with a smile. "I wanted to surprise you," he whispers before their lips meet in a long but soft kiss.

"And that's my cue," Michelle says leaving the couch. "Nancy and I are going out. Don't need me," she teases as she passes them on her way out the door.

Carlos chuckles as he watches her go, before turning his attention back to TK. "You look really tired," he murmurs softly rubbing a hand down TK's cheek.

"I am," TK yawns. "This week was rough; was hoping someone would wanna cuddle me," he grins as he grabs his bag to drop in the laundry. Carlos takes it from him, wanting to make life a little easier on TK for now, before they head upstairs, . Carlos knows he'll get up in a bit once TK is sound asleep and do his laundry and cook for him, but for now, he's just as happy to have TK home and back in his arms.

Once in bed, TK falls sound asleep within seconds. Carlos holds him until he is sure TK is out. He softly kisses his forehead before whispering, "Welcome home Tiger." He eventually gets up and does all those things he'd planned, and if TK sleeps sixteen hours without moving then Carlos is happy he's finally getting his rest.

[adultingautistic]

I try and talk to ppl about my autism but they dont listen to me, they just brush me off and say “but youre very high functioning” but i only am because I get lot of help from my parents, I wouldnt be considered HF wo them, and despite how much they help me I still struggle w LOTS of stuff on the dl, and some is v embarrassing tbh that I dont wanna tell ppl. How can I get ppl to take my autism seriously and not just brush me off as “high functioning” wo revealing super personal things abt me??

Ask date: September 15th

Short answer: You can’t.  The only way to explain to people that you struggle is to explain your struggles, which means to give them personal details.

Before you explain autism to anyone, you need to ask yourself why you are trying to explain your autism to this person, and what is your goal in doing so?

For example, with my coworkers, I do not try to explain every symptom of autism that I have and every struggle in my life.  Instead, I only explain to them symptoms that affect work.

So for work, that means communication struggles and my Auditory Processing Disorder, mostly.  I only explained my communication struggles to my one coworker that I work most closely with, because I ask her to read most of my emails before I send them.  I ask her to help me say things the right way.  I also ask for her help in reading emails that I don’t understand, and she is very kind in helping me when I don’t understand something.

For my APD I have official reasonable accommodations set up, so that I get captions for phone meetings (and they are SUPPOSED to avoid any meetings where captions aren’t possible, but I’m constantly fighting that battle...).

So that’s how I explain my autism to the people at work- I only tell them about the symptoms that affect me at work.  I don’t tell them about my issues with food, or that I have to wear 100% cotton clothes, or that I listen to the same song on repeat all day at work.  They don’t need to know those things, because it doesn’t affect how I do my job.

When I’m trying to explain my autism to my doctor, I explain a different set of symptoms.  I explain to them that I do not feel pain the same way as allistics, and that I need them to not rule out any diagnosis based on my description of pain or how something feels.  Some doctors listen.  Many do not.  I don’t go back to those doctors.  It’s hard work, but I search for doctors who do listen and do believe me when I tell them I feel pain differently, and those are the doctors I keep.  But I do not need to explain to my doctors the difficulties that I have with watching videos, or my reading comprehension struggles, because they don’t need to know that.  That’s only something my coworkers need to know.

When I’m trying to explain my autism to my friends, what I need from them is very different from what I need from my coworkers or doctors.  From my friends I need emotional support, and so I want them to know about and understand the more personal struggles I deal with.  I tell them about my difficulty with emotional regulation so that when I’m crying at work, I can reach out to them for help to get me through the moment.  I tell them about how I was stimming in the doctor’s waiting room like crazy and people were staring at me like I was a freak, so I need them to know what stimming is and why I need to do it, so they can support me.  With my friends, I do tell them the embarrassing and personal details, because I trust them.  

So I’m not sure who it is you’re trying to explain your autism to, but you don’t need to explain the whole thing to every person you interact with.  For acquaintances like coworkers, doctors, study friends, etc, you only need to explain the symptoms that affect the activity you’re doing with them.

The only time I think it’s worth it to try to explain all of my autism to someone is with people who I trust deeply, like my close friends and my therapist.  These are the people I need for support and to lean on in many different kinds of situations, and so they are the ones I want to describe my “full autism” to.  But they are also the ones that I do trust with my most personal struggles.

It’s too exhausting to try to make every allistic you meet understand autism.  For some allistics, it can take them a lifetime to understand autism, and it’s not worth putting in that work unless that person is very close to you and going to be with you for a long time.

[ourladylennon]

this is a stress rant and also I absolutely have to get these thoughts out of my head and onto something so that I can understand how I'm feeling. so pardon me.

I have some very mixed feelings about my latest tattoo experience and it has been incredibly, astoundingly stressful. For anyone who was interested in how it went.

and after typing out this whole rant and reading it back my advice is: ALWAYS make sure it is exactly what you want. ALWAYS speak up if you don’t.

I have a specific style, as everyone, but the style of tattoo I have is a bit of a niche that can be hard to find: geometric design with dotwork/pointillism/stippling techniques to create shading rather then standard fill in shading. This shading style is incredibly time consuming and taxing for the artist and I've had a lot of trouble finding people who specialize in this (and within my area).

I started with an artist about 3 years ago, whom was new to me but known to be good. Got my appt set up, he drew me an entire sleeve- it was absolutely gorgeous. Went through two sessions and his work is genuinely amazing. Clean. Precise. Detailed. Unique. I didn't vibe with him too great but it was something I kind of put aside. But without explaining the whole fucking mess that became, just know that our artist-client relationship fell through. This left me with only the beginning of my tattoo. The whole ordeal was really stressful and upsetting so I put down the goal of getting it finished to try and recoup. And I just continually hit roadblocks trying to find artists who are good at dotwork and willing to do it. Often times they live in other cities/states/etc. Obviously this involves meeting a new artist, trying to figure out if it's a good fit, driving out for consultations/redoing all that process- s t r e s s. Now with covid, it's even more difficult because almost every artist I've come across that I've considered has closed books. All of them being out of town which is fine because it would be worth it. It's expected.

But after three years of this go around of trying to find someone, I was getting really put out by the process and just wanting to get this thing going. (Mistake #1- or #2 technically cause fucking up w the first artist is where it all started and I do regret it to this day).

A new shop opened IN my town- a miracle!!! I started following an artist whose work I found to be particularly amazing. Clean lines, clean shading, artistic seeming. Didn't see any pointillism, but I just like kept seeing her work and thinking damn that's good. So I decided to reach out and told her this is what I'm looking for, a dotwork sleeve and here are some examples of the style I like. I specifically mentioned this and asked if they'd be interested in working on it because I know that dotwork is not everyone's thing. The artist replied and said they've been wanting to get into and would like to do that (we'll call this mistake #3. Do not assume the artist, even if very good at other things will be good at all things. Do not go to an artist wanting a specific style without having seen their work for THAT style).

At this point I sent over pictures of my current tattoo that we'd be adding onto for reference. In my mind this is what I thought would mean: "I am looking at what you have to see how to incorporate it into a new sleeve design and see how I can create a collaborative piece and mesh the two together." (Mistake #4: that was not the case. Do not assume. Anything. Ever.)

The appt date was relatively quick despite the fact that I figured she'd be booked out for quite some time (red flag #1: not because she wasn't busy. But because this was not a whole lot of time to come up with a design but I figured "Well she knows her capabilities better than I do and she wouldn't suggest it that soon if she weren't sure). In my previous experiences, the artist will send you a proof or have a separate appt to review the design. I never received an email with said design (red flag #2, in my personal opinion. But I thought I was just being...extra? Also just thought, okay I'll see it at the appt and it will be OK, right? <- mistake #5).

I show up, there is no sleeve design. (RED FLAG #3) There are two single mandala tattoos. Outlines only. No shading. I'd also like to say my style is much more geometric fractals than it is mandala. A lot of people find these interchangeable but...they're really much different. (RED. FLAG. #4). I genuinely did not see that coming. Maybe I'm wrong to say, but this was negligent in my opinion and experience. A sleeve design ensures that your finished piece flows, that it works together, you can see the whole picture, modify, etc. Especially with it being an addition to my existing work. Cannot stress how much of a red flag.

I'm wigging out at this point. I don't love them but I want this tattoo. I'm going back and forth thinking, "maybe it's just because the shading isn't filled in I can't picture it." (MISTAKE #6: trust your gut!!!). I tell her OK well I like this about this one and that about that one. She only nods and listens, where I was expecting feedback; perhaps an "OK well we can draw it on" or "I can rework it" etc. She didn't and I am too paralyzed to speak up. (Red flag #4)

Mistake #7: I accept it at this point. I pick between the two. She has to go resize it. I'm having a literal internal freak out and battle. I am someone who DOES NOT know how to speak up for themselves. In any way. EVER. For any reason. At any time. I am a fear based individual, in fact, I am nearly certain I have APD (avoidant personality disorder) and it effects me severely and deeply. To the point that simply speaking to someone can be hard for me.

But my brain was screaming you cannot do this! You aren't sure! This is for life! It's your body!! You HAVE to say something! (RED fucking alert)

She came back with the one design resized and my heart is thumping, my chest is constricting, the throat feels like it's closing. I make myself say it. I tell her I don't think this is what I'm looking for. I literally almost busted into tears trying to say it because I was so fucking terrified and overwhelmed. I've never been in a position where I genuinely wasn't sure whether I liked what I was looking at. She says you don't need to be sorry you should speak up this is your body. So immediately, I lost a lot of tension because of her kindness. I thought she would be angry or rude or upset, just because I'm fearful. She proceeded to kind of go in and shade in with a pencil on the stencil to give me a better idea and apologized that she should have had that prepared. I continue asking questions to assuage my concerns and feel....better....ish. she offers to redraw and reschedule but I went against my gut, gave into my desperacy to continue my sleeve, dismissed my feelings as being just my typical overexertion of fear and did something I NEVER do: turn my back on my instincts. (Mistake. Mistake #8)

She was pleasant and I genuinely enjoyed her, felt comfortable with her which is not something I can say about previous artists and that's a good chunk of why I decided to continue. I liked her, I liked her other work I've seen, I just thought that once the stippling was in that I'd see it was really nice. However, I am laying there and I'm like I do not feel poking, which is literally how dotwork is done. Dot by dot. I'd feel her do the tiniest bit of dot-dot-dot and I'm like OK OK I'm just not paying full attention and missing it. But then I'd hear and feel her shading- standard shading. I'm like why is she using a shading tip? I'm just confused honestly. I'm like I have no idea what the could be for, just assume it's necessary for something I didn't realize. But I can see because I'm laying and my arms at a weird angle.

I finally get a peek while she's pausing and its....not dotwork. It's not dotwork at all, in fact. It's too late at this point in my eyes. It was only partially done but what am I gonna do? Stop her in the middle and have an unfinished tattoo? And then what? (Try to) go to someone else to have them do dotwork and have a half unmatching tattoo? There was nothing I could do. So I resigned and accepted this as the consequences of my actions and ill choices. And that's honestly been the hardest part to deal with: I let this happen to myself because I could not speak up. The only person who could have stopped this was ME. And I could not do it. That's how deeply my issues of fear run. And that is terrifying, pathetic, sad.

I'm not saying I got the world's ugliest tattoo. It's okay. Just okay. In the words of RuPaul, meh. I don't want meh. I want astounding. And I didn't do what I needed to to make that happen or not happen.

I just have been in awe over the fact that I asked for dotwork and the artist expressed no concern over this, literally had my existing tattoo right above where they were working and continued to not emulate that style of shading at all. Most of this is my fault, 90% of it. But there was negligence on the artists side and I genuinely don't think they meant it to be. I just don't think they had enough experience, but they too should have spoke up if they didn't feel they could carry it out. They gave me no inclination that they could not or would not be doing dotwork. At any point. And I do feel upset that I don't think they put in the effort or care to work off my existing tattoo in their design, and in looking back, their design also does not look nearly anything like the designs I gave for example. It was my job to walk away and request a redesign or to cancel and I didn't. So in the end this is on me. And it has been very taxing on my mental state.

To end this shit show: the tattoo I just got costed half of what my first one did, while only having taking the fraction of time as my first and being less then half the size of my first. It is not nearly as clean, it certainly reflects their level of experience. The shop environment was not fantastic: it felt a bit like as if I had walked into a chain restaurant...but a tattoo shop. There were no private rooms, there were no tattoo chairs. They were literal stools and that's not...not professional or normal. And I chose to continue.

I'm faced with some really tough decisions moving forward. I am at least thankful it is relatively small ish and wraps towards my inner arm which makes it less visible. But I'm at a crossroads of whether I go through the whole mess of trying to find a FOURTH artist to try and finish my sleeve the way it was meant to be finished (dotwork, whole sleeve design etc) and make the best of it at the risk of having a fucking patchwork arm. Or I continue to work with this artist and see the design through myself (literally design it myself which I didn't want to do but it doesn't appear that I should leave this to them), so that at least the remainder of my arm is consistent shading and work.

And because I've made it sound like the tattoo is atrocious, be assured it's not trash by any means. It's just not what I wanted. Big sis learned a big lesson.

(the immediate center is bothering me the most. But I think it can be altered. Nonetheless. The skill/experience level shows, unfortunately. And you can certainly see the difference between the stipple shading on my first tattoo and the regular shading on the new one.)

I am trying to be positive and that's all I can do. I accept the results and I think it can be fixed to a certain extent, and I can only hope as I move forward that I make the right decision and that the end product is something I enjoy.

[tarlosprompts]

Maybe we could get a fic of TK having to watch Carlos get shot on a call? Also thanks so much if you end up writing it!

Claimed by Red💋

This is going to be a 2 parter! It fits well with another prompt I have!

Warnings: mentions of gangs, gun violence, fire, violence, slight dissociation of a major character

Quiet Days

The quiet days were the days that made TK especially anxious. In his line of duty, it felt like it was all leading up to something...something that TK wouldn’t be able to process. The quiet days made TK feel like he had no control because he knew that it was all leading to something...something that wasn’t good. 

Hell, Buttercup even seemed anxious as the firefighters milled around the firehouse, no chores left to be done. His dad had caught up on all of his paperwork and was trying-and failing-to peacefully read his book. Owen kept glancing at the clock as if that would help a call to come in sooner. 

They all hated quiet days.

Carlos especially hated quiet days. He had once told TK that quiet days were hell days. They usually ended up in a horrible call at the end of shift...one that would scar the first responders. TK hoped that, for Carlos at least, it wasn’t a quiet day. 

Quiet days were the worst, that’s why when the call came in an hour before the shift ended, TK felt his anxiety skyrocket. Owen debriefed them as they rode to the sight, “APD responded to a gang shooting. They ended up in the middle of two gangs’ territory dispute. APD have a couple of officers down but they have said the situation is under control. They called us in because one of the dumbasses set their stash house on fire. Judd and TK, I want you to go in and check for any downed men. Marjan and Probie, I want you on the hose. Paul, I want you to help our paramedics with triage.”

The crew spoke their affirmations as they pulled up to the scene. As TK got ready, he scanned the crowd trying to spot Carlos. Most likely, he had been called out to assist...he just wanted to make sure he was alright. “Your cop is with Michelle, triaging.” Judd pointed to the left and TK followed his finger. Carlos was alright.

“I was assessing the situation, but thanks for that,” he stated.

Judd chuckled, “right.”

He and Judd quickly made their way towards the inferno, but not before Carlos spotted TK and sent him a smile. That put a smile on TK’s face as he and Judd entered the stash house. “Whatever chemicals they were using is extremely flammable. The heat in here is off the charts,” TK called into the radio. 

“Search fast and get out of there,” Owen replied.

“You go left, I’ll go right and we’ll get out of here fast,” Judd shouted. 

TK nodded and went off on his search. Two minutes later, TK radios in, “I’ve got stairs leading to a basement on the north west side. I’m going down.” 

“Make it fast, brother,” Judd responded, “almost through with my sweep.”

TK quickly, but safely made his way down to the basement. The fire wasn’t burning as brightly, but TK could see a huge problem. “Propane tanks. Four of them. They’re heating up, we need to move the perimeter back,” he called out.

“Judd, TK, get out of there, now,” Owen ordered. 

TK turned to leave, but heard a small “help”. He turned around and searched, spotting a lump in the smoke. 

“I’ve got one down, retrieving them and exiting.”

TK picked the person up in a fireman’s carry and hurried up the steps. He moved as fast as possible through the crackling building, making four steps out of the inferno before he felt weightless.

TK must have blacked out for a few seconds because he was having a hard time opening his eyes. He managed, pulling the mask off his face and groaning quietly. His ears were ringing and the lights from the emergency vehicles were too bright. There was a lump three feet ahead of him and rushing feet coming towards him. 

TK pushed himself up to a standing position as the world blurred. TK was turned towards the police and prisoners that had yet to be carted off. He watched as one of them get their hands free and grabbed a gun from an unsuspecting officer. He aimed the gun towards the triage tent and all TK could do was feel himself scream Carlos’ name as the gun was pointed towards him. And TK could see Carlos hit the ground. And the guy was aiming again and it was aimed at Michelle. And TK was close. And he reacted. 

TK grabbed the arm that was aiming and pointed it towards the sky as the trigger pulled. TK twisted the man’s wrist and felt the bones in the man’s wrist break. He didn’t pay attention to the man’s screams. He just moved a hand up to the man’s head and brought it down on his knee once, twice, three times before letting the limp man fall to the ground. 

TK could hear his ragged breathing and his rapid heartbeat as he turned back to Carlos. He moved quickly, probably running over to where Michelle was bent over the latino man. He dropped on his knees next to Carlos, hands fluttering, not knowing where to place them. 

The heartbeat in his ears died down some to listen to Michelle as she moved his head to look at her. “He was wearing a vest and the guy knew it. He was shot in the shoulder. He’s going to be fine, he just hit his head on the way down. Do you understand?” TK just stared at her. “TK, do you understand what I just told you?”

TK took a deep breath and swallowed, nodding his head slightly. He ran a hand over Carlos’s short hair. It was a motion he’d do when he’d had a long, hard shift and had arrived at Carlos’s for a late night dinner but the man had fallen asleep on the couch. It always helped him to put the day’s events behind. 

He watched as Carlos was put on a backboard and into the ambulance. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned his head slightly to see his father. “Go with him. It's the end of your shift anyway. Keep me updated.” 

That’s all TK needed to be jumping on the ambulance. “And Kid,” his dad called as he gripped the door to the ambulance. TK glanced back at him. “Get checked out while you’re there. You took a nasty fall. Blacked out for thirty seconds.”

[bellakitse]

The Last of the Romantics

Michelle has a history of setting Carlos up with the worse guys possible, she swears this time it's different.

* “Tell me about him,” he says resigned, knowing he’s been played by the way Michelle instantly perks up.

“He’s one of the new members at the 126,” she starts with a grin. “And Carlos, he’s so pretty.”

30 days of Tarlos - Day 3

Inspired by @lauraperfectinsanity prompt here

There is a bright devious smile on Michelle’s face when Carlos sits down across from her for their lunch. It’s familiar, and it sends a chill down his spine when paired with her earlier message to him that he just had to meet her for lunch.

“No,” he says as he puts his plate on the table.

“You haven’t even heard what I have to say,” she complains.

“Yeah, because we haven’t been friends for over seven years,” he says sarcastically, rolling his eyes as he squeezes lime juice over his carnitas tacos. “Not like I don’t know your ‘I found the perfect guy for you this time, Carlos, really’ face.”

He raises a brow at her, daring her to prove him wrong, and Michelle frowns back at him, pouting for all of ten seconds before she’s smiling again all cheery.

“Fine, you’re right,” she starts, holding up a hand when he starts to groan. “But this time, I did find the perfect guy for you, so stop giving me that face.”

Carlos looks at her for a moment, and she locks eyes with him, staring back in a battle of wills.

“That’s what you said about Robert Greene,” he says, pleased when Michelle makes a face at the name.

“He – “ she starts, ready to argue.

“Was in a cult,” he says, not giving her the chance.

“Okay so maybe – “

“Then there was that EMT acquaintance of yours, Joe?” he says like he doesn’t remember the weirdo. “With the extreme medical kink he wanted to take into the bedroom.”

“He was gross,” she admits with a shudder.

“Michael,” he continues with emphasis. “Who I still say was a drug mule and wanted to use me as an alibi.”

Michelle lets out a huff, rolling her eyes at him. “Do you have a point, Carlos?”

“My point,” he says back with as much attitude as she’s giving him. “Is that when you find the ‘perfect guy’ for me, he ends up being a weirdo, a creep, or a criminal. I love you, Michelle, but you suck at matchmaking.”

Michelle’s shoulders drop, making him feel bad instantly. He tries hard not to cave, he knows from too many bad dates – not just the three men he mentioned – that Michelle’s taste in men for him is awful. Still, he’s never been good at saying no to his friend, so with a deep sigh, he gives in.

“Tell me about him,” he says resigned, knowing he’s been played by the way Michelle instantly perks up.

“He’s one of the new members at the 126,” she starts with a grin. “And Carlos, he’s so pretty.”

Carlos listens to his friend as she sings the praises of this new guy, the Captain’s son, himself a firefighter, handsome, and friendly, according to her. And although Michelle’s track record is horrible, he finds himself agreeing to stop by the firehouse some evening for dinner to meet the guy.

֍֍֍

 There isn’t a chance for the dinner until two weeks later; his schedule gets insane as they work on a string of home invasions. Before they lost the original 126, he used to come to the firehouse all the time. They were his friends; it wasn’t easy to go back after losing them, but as he walks into the house, so different from before, he lets out the breath he’s been holding as he finds an entirely different place. It makes it easier to be there.

“Reyes!” he hears someone shout out, and he finds himself smiling as he looks up to find Judd Ryder on top of one of the trucks with another firefighter, his back to him.

“Hey, Judd,” he greets his friend with a wave as he walks towards him.

Judd climbs down from the rig, a broad smile on his face that Carlos hasn’t seen in a while. He gives him a back-slapping hug, knocking the air out of him for a moment. Over Judd’s shoulder, he sees that his friend’s crew member has also climbed down the truck, a smirk on his face as Judd hugs him tight.

“It’s been a while, kid,” Judd says as he pulls back, smiles still firmly in place. “What brings you by?”

“Michelle,” he answers, rolling his eyes. “She invited me to dinner to meet the new crew,” he says meaningfully and knows Judd understands by the way his eyes light up with amusement. He’s known Judd and his wife Grace almost as long as he’s known Michelle; as a result, Judd has had a front-row seat to Michelle’s matchmaking for years.

“Ah,” he says knowingly. “Well then, allow me to introduce you to my boy here,” Judd turns to his friend with a smirk. “Pretty sure he’s who Michelle wants you to meet. This is TK Strand, TK; this is Carlos Reyes from the APD.”

Carlos locks eyes with the man his friend is introducing to him and quickly concludes that Michelle sold him short when describing him. She said he was handsome, but TK Strand is so much more than that. He’s downright gorgeous, with beautiful bottle-green eyes, soft-looking brown hair, and a face that leaves Carlos a little stunned as he stares back. The rest of him, dressed in a fitted grey Austin Fire shirt and black work pants, is downright drool-worthy.

“Yeah,” TK says with a nod of his head. “Captain Blake has mentioned you once or twice,” a slow-building grin crossing his kissable mouth. “Or maybe a dozen times, she seems to think we’d hit it off.”

Carlos cringes at the laughter he hears in TK’s voice. Damn it, Michelle.

“So, tell me why you’re the perfect guy for me,” TK continues bluntly, the smirk on his face is as sexy as it is annoying.

Carlos’ eyes go wide as he chokes on his own saliva. “Excuse me?” he asks, his voice higher than he would like.

TK holds up his hands in front of him, giving him a shrug that just draws his attention to his nice-looking arms in that tight shirt of his. “Hey, that’s what Michelle said,” he tells him, and Carlos can feel his face go red with embarrassment. He glares at Judd when the older man chuckles at his expense.

“I’m gonna go check on dinner,” Judd says, taking a few steps away, barely hiding his continued amusement. “You’re lucky Reyes, Strickland is cooking tonight, and he’s really good. Almost as good as you. So stick around.”

He turns away, heading for the kitchen, leaving Carlos with a grinning TK.

“Please tell me she didn’t say that,” he begs once they’re alone. “Please.”

“Sorry,” TK answers, wrinkling his nose adorably, and Carlos has to bite down on his lip to keep from whimpering at just how cute he is.

“She didn’t out and out say it, but she also hasn’t been subtle about it at all, and I know a matchmaking scheme when I hear one,” TK grins again before slowly looking him up and down. “She’s been telling me about your many, many attributes.”

“Fuck me,” Carlos groans, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Take me out on a date first, and then we’ll see about that,” TK answers easily, and Carlos finds himself staring at the handsome guy in front of him with eyes wide as saucers.

“Are you serious?” he asks after he collects his tongue off the ground.

TK smiles at him again, a little shy for someone who just suggested they might sleep together, and Carlos is weirdly charmed by the contradiction.

“Michelle made you sound like a dream,” he confesses. “And you look like a walking, wet dream,” he flirts, brazen again.

It makes Carlos dizzy with excitement as he tries to stay on his toes and keep up.

“Michelle is my best friend; she likes to hype me up,” he tells him. He likes TK already, he’s more than willing to take him on a date and see if this electricity he feels between them can be the start of something, but he doesn’t want the guy to go in with unrealistic expectations. “I would love to take you out, but you need to know I’m just a regular guy, I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

TK’s expression turns gentle at his words; his green eyes are soft and kind.

“If even a third of what she told me about you is true,” he starts to say softly. “Then there’s no way I’ll be disappointed.”

Carlos smiles back at him; he feels himself humming with anticipation. “How does Friday sound then? Dinner?”

“Friday works,” TK grins back at him happily. “Now come on, you didn’t just come to meet me, and Judd wasn’t kidding, Paul’s food is fantastic,” he tells him.

Proving that he’s not done surprising him, TK holds out his hand to him.

He stares at it for a moment before taking it, letting out a small gasp at the way his body lights up when he and TK touch. The amazed look TK gives him back tells him he’s not the only one who felt it.

It’s that feeling, the touch of TK’s hand, and the prospect of Friday and with any hope, many Fridays to come, that keeps him from rolling his eyes when he and TK walk into the kitchen, and he locks eyes with a smirking Michelle.

If she finally hit a home run on the matchmaking – and he thinks as he looks at TK only to find his eyes already on him that maybe she has – he’ll let her be smug forever.

[oblivianbrain]

Unsure if I have APD (Auditory processing disorder) But, I remember when I was a wee child (Honestly not that young) And my mom took me to the hosptial because she thought I had hearing loss because she would talk to me and I just wouldn't respond, or interpret it wrong. I was completely fine, but I still have similar issues except my right ea r likes to make a strange static noise when someone talks too loud. And it makes my hearing completely go bye bye, or makes me cry? (Not because I'm sad but it affects my sinuses)

IDK if it's tinnitus, because I got my ears cleaned out and it literally did nothing...Anyways I kinda realize when I hear backgrounds noises It's hard to hear sometimes, because I'm too focused on it, and accents are hard to hear or old people because they just slur so much I can't understand them. My siblings and my parents would understand my grandpa so clearly and I would be like. "wheat??"

This isn't APD but I also tend to space out sometimes and miss some things you said, and sometimes I quickly forget what you said.

And then watching films my mom hates it when I put on subtitles because they're distracting...Lady for YOU maybe? But for me? A complete Godsend I love captions/subtitles. People talk so quietly, with loud noise going in the background, or sometimes their words just sound extremely slurred.

I especially can't understand you if there's a certain trigger noise going on in the background and I can't focus anymore.

[k-s-morgan]

(1/5)Hi again!) Hm, I don't think that Merope could have influenced Tom that much? If we take for granted that his lack of impulse control and not-so-great-ability to fully comprehend the consequences of his own actions aren't the result of his upbringing and are the result of pre-born circumstances. (Otherwise, sure) She herself didn't really think about consequences too much, if I think about it. Could she really present a logical argument why you shouldn't hurt people? One he would listen to?

(2/5)In fact, I don't think she had that integrity in the first place, hence the whole Riddle affair... (I suppose, one could work with thought patterns to prevent needless cruelty, APD-therapy-ish, but it would be hard, just on an intellectual level - because Tom is clever enough to catch obvious bullshit.)Speaking of "asexuality being used just to justify the lack of same-sex physical intimacy", people might often forget that aro ace couples can and frequently are physically or/and emotionally 

(3/5) affectionate with each other. Like, we do not just stare at each other lovingly and talk about purely platonic things. We cuddle, sleep together, explore our sexualities (kinks, rated fics, etc; a lot of aces actually are more willing to discuss sex than an average non asexual person, at least where I am), talk about relationships.. I am afraid that people just don't understand that asexuality isn't an absence of sexuality. It is a sexual orientation. Er,well, that was definitely rambling.

(4/6) I hope you don't mind. Sorry? P.S. What's your stance on "manipulative Dumbledore"? I recently 've been told an opinion that Harry wasn't "his responsibility", that he was just a Headmaster (+ a bunch of other things) and he doesn't have an obligation to be invested in the lives of his student on such a personal level so he would deal with their individual personal problems.P.P.S. Have you read The Train to Nowhere? I checked and you haven't mentioned it in any of your fic rec lists.

(5/5) It has quite an oblivious Voldemort in it - he completely doesn't read the signals as sexual, even though they'd be pretty obvious to an average observer. I absolutely loved it, partially because I nurse I headcanon of him being ace in there, even though it's 100% not gonna happen.( Well, for what we need slow burn if not for the opportunity to headcanon characters as a-spec and relationships as qpr for as long as possible (at least, a lot of aces told me it's the case with them.)) -- Alen

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Hey, Alen! Thank you for as always interesting message))

1) With Merope, I can see several ways of development. From how we see her in canon, she doesn’t seem likely to provide Tom with a healthy environment, but some people transform drastically when they give birth to a child, so maybe this could have happened to her? She could have regretted her actions and tried to raise Tom to the best of her abilities. She could seek help from magical and Muggle communities both. Or maybe she’d raise a monster still - it’s interesting to speculate about it. But I think Tom would love his mother anyway if she stayed by his side.

2) Very true about asexuals and the attitude of many of them toward sex. In fact, the guy I lost virginity to told me later that he suspected I might be ace because the topic of sex and sex itself never fazed me and I treated it like a curious puzzle :D And yes, people who know little of asexuality try to use it as an excuse while also failing to understand what it means completely. So many of them think asexual = celibate.

3)  Dumbledore is very manipulative, but he’s not a villain either. He had to make some of the toughest decisions in his life, and his gray morality is the reason why I like him. All in all, he treated Harry terribly because he did raise him like a pig for slaughter, but it was for ‘greater good’ - and greater good is greater in terms of its scale. Dumbledore tried to rid Harry of the Horcrux, like with the Basilisk’s fang, but when it failed, he knew Harry would have to die to defeat Voldemort once and for all and save all other people. Granted, I think the whole existence of  Voldemort is partly Dumbledore’s fault because he treated Tom unfairly and cruelly from the start. The fact that he hid his parentage from him, even though Tom was likely mocked and bullied for it for the first year or two, definitely contributed to Tom’s overall bitterness. 

As for Harry not being his responsibility... of course he was -  Dumbledore made it so from the moment he chose to leave him in an abusive household to raise a potential hero with no feeling of self-worth. Harry was always special.  Dumbledore wasn’t just a Headmaster, he was a key player in the fight against Voldemort, and while I believe he loved Harry, he was prepared to sacrifice him to win this fight, which warranted a more personal contact and influence. 

4) I did read The Train to Nowhere and I absolutely loved it! I think I spent the entire night reading it. The reason why I don’t mention it in my lists is that the pacing there is very slow, and by the chapter I read last, we clearly weren’t even half-way close to the ending. I’m a bit cautious about labelling something as my favorite work when I have no idea of where the story might still go and how the central relationship will develop. I think I’m going to catch up on all the chapters I missed, though))