#can you tell I’ve got adhd

[wonkyjaw]

Wedding quilt progress is going slow but sure. I’m a little concerned about math given how the shapes shift only half to the side each row. I suppose I’ll just keep some of the material extra and reserved so if I need to last minute add half a jewel it’ll be fine.

[charlie-is-aroace]

Actually getting emotional about Andi winning😅

[edge-oftheworld]

I don’t really talk about it much on here because I’m extremely lucky to be able to understand exactly what’s going on in my body, but it’s scary to live for years as someone who Gets Things Done in a way your peers don’t really understand, be putting effort into so many things you care about, and then suddenly lose the ability to do not only that but also basic tasks overnight after a deadline, and bit by bit after many. it’s scary getting really irritable sometimes to the point of violence, just when you were meant to be celebrating the rewards from your hard work, the only impact of the work you did that you can see is that you overdrafted your ability to do anything. including have a basic conversation without getting grumpy or crying. and your body is going to make you pay it back with interest, you already know that, but you don’t know how to start filling yourself back up. you’ve only ever enjoyed being on the grind, hard at work on exciting things.

I don’t know how many of you have been through the kind of burnout that’s years of needing 12hrs of sleep a night but with terrible insomnia, waking up to what feels like a hangover for weeks on end with little relief then rinse and repeat without having a single drink, feeling too sick to eat and needing to exercise to emotionally regulate but being unable to, anxiety that doesn’t come from worry but you’ll pick that up too at some point, dissociating every time you try to do mentally taxing tasks that you’re PAID for so it takes an hour of grounding yourself just to get five minutes worth of productive concentration, falling asleep the minute you feel a little safe by being in the presence of loved ones. but I suspect I’m not the only one.

I’ve had songs for the energetic and angsty times leading up to this. for the exasperated times and the brain fog and the times where all my limited energy is tied up in feeling things. that I need to, need to acknowledge, but it’s overwhelming and I live in a haze for weeks as a result of. songs telling of the kind of youth I wish I had, even when I was sold something else. songs for the months spent as a teenager trying to be there for my friends, worrying for them, distracting me from worrying for myself, trying to cling on to positivity and hope amongst it when I had to choose to make a discipline of always seeing that. I’ve had songs for healing and when healing is harder than expected and songs that have the right level of musical complexity to capture the layers of everything that’s happening in my head, making it sound good, telling me it’s gonna be okay.

I don’t know how I could ever say thank you for this. but I do know that I see parts of myself in the people behind these songs, of course I do, and I worry for them as a result and ache for them because it’s hard enough to feel this way when no one knows me or feels the need to control me or mould me into what they think I should be. I’d do anything to keep them all healthy and happy and all of their loved ones too and I don’t think it’s strange as a fan to take that seriously. I hope we can understand the need to treat them gently, and to while not questioning their privacy and the fact that they’re never going to tell us everything they go through, listen to our intuition when we catch something we relate to and treat what they’ve shared with us or hinted at with the dignity we would if someone we love told us something vulnerable. be kind in our expectations and be intentional in the fan culture we create because it does make its way back to them.

and the same goes with all of you. we’re bonding over the same things. I know a lot of this fandom is in the stage where interpersonal relationships are hard. we don’t mean to be grumpy of frustrated but we are. and I’m sending love to all of you. we can get through this together. it’s what they’ve always longed for isn’t it?

[leahcee]

The way my heart drops anytime I get an email from one of my superiors at work… like what did I do wrong babe? Am I getting fired for forgetting to input my lunch time correctly? Am I going to get called in and written up for forgetting to email you back by 5pm?

[comicaurora]

Hey, sorry if you’ve been asked this before, but I have ADHD and I’ve been following your comic for years and just now have started to write my own comic (partially because you really inspired me). But I’m really struggling with staying on the project even when it’s boring and getting myself to work on it in the first place. Do you have any tips on how to keep your brain invested or just to make yourself do the work at all?

I have excellent news, I literally just figured out something really important about this.

So when you're an ADHD kiddo or otherwise have difficulty staying on task in a structured environment where Task is the Priority, the main way people try to MAKE you stay on task is by removing your access to anything that is not The Task. No phone, no TV, no doodling, no going outside, etc. In practice, this just makes us miserable because it takes the boredom that's always simmering around a 2 or 3 and cranks it all the way up to 11. In the same way that you would have difficulty staying on task if you were in physical pain, this crushing existential monotony makes it very difficult to work. The work might get done simply because you have no other options, but it will not be done quickly or well, and it will take a while to recover from how much it hurt.

What I realized earlier this week is I caught myself doing this to myself. I had 42 pages of background colors to do, and I thought to myself "this sounds really tedious, but I suppose I have nothing better I can do." And I realized what I'd just thought, and got very alarmed.

Because back when I was an ADHD kiddo imprisoned by school scheduling and a million little factors that keep children immobile and restrained, I couldn't stop thinking about how big and exciting the world was, and how much I wanted to be anywhere but here. When I was feeling really crushed in I'd pick a random spot on the maps on my wall and just imagine being there instead of my bedroom. This was the impetus behind almost all of my creative energy. I've said it before - anything is a prison if you can't leave, and being in a prison makes it easy to imagine how amazing things could be outside of it. Aurora's initial worldbuilding was forged in the crucible of fifth grade misery. My enthusiasm for art and my creative drive are inextricable from my sense of wonder and yearning for excitement in the real world. Not escapism, but appreciation. Wonders unimaginable are out there, and I gain just as much joy seeking them out as I do conjuring them up in my head and sharing them with all of you.

So now that I'm a grown-up with actual freedom in every way I've been able to get, the idea that I was staying on task by making myself believe the world was small and not worth seeing was extremely alarming. It could keep me on task for an afternoon, but at the cost of slowly extinguishing the thing that made me want to make art in the first place - the hunger to experience and draw inspiration from all the myriad complexities in the world.

So what I've been doing is I've been purposefully and intentionally taking excursions whenever I catch myself thinking "I could take a break but it wouldn't be worth it, it's the same outdoors as always, I'll be uncomfy and unproductive and tired." Because that is never true. Every time I've put down the stylus and gone out, I've been renewed in one way or another, and when I come back to comfort fully recharged I get a lot of shit done. Because it is easier to work on anything if you remember why you wanted to make it in the first place, and it is self-defeating misery to just lock yourself in with it and tell yourself you're a bad person if you can't get it done.

I honestly don't know how widely applicable this is. I have worse wanderlust than anyone I know, so for me this has always been modeled as imprisonment vs freedom. I've also been extremely lucky to find myself in a profession that lets me set my own pace on literally everything I do. But I genuinely believe that when it comes to making art with ADHD, you need to give yourself freedom to move laterally, not just in the direction of obvious forward progress. We don't think linearly in any other part of our lives - art is no different.

[luveline]

helloooo, how are you? i’ve been rewatching criminal minds and i finally got to the post-prison part, so i’m really missing shy!r and post prison spencer <33 if you’re felling up to writing something for them again, i would love to see it!! maybe when they kiss for the first time or something else (completely up to you, i would love anything that you write hahah) but if you’re not really feeling it at the moment, please don’t worry about it, it’s so understandable 🩷 have the best day!!

ty for your request I love first kisses <3

Spencer takes you for a walk and explains a couple of courting rituals. shy fem!reader, 1.5k

Profiling is still very hard, but seven months into your new job at the BAU, you’ve become proficient in Spencer Reid. You can tell when he’s eager to work, when he’s down about something, when he’s feeling good. He holds himself differently on his good days, he takes care to coil his hair and wears a clean pair of shoes. 

In the bullpen, he’s sitting at his desk beside yours, craned over a desk covered in loose papers, books, and files. You attempt to hide your approach, lest he startle. 

“Good morning,” he says. 

“Good morning.” Can’t hide anything. He’s been an agent for ninety percent of his adult life. “What are you doing?” 

“Just reading.” 

You sit at your desk, clearing a space for your bag among your own mess of files and books. Your monitor turns on with a nudge of the mouse. Your screen is filled swiftly by notifications and Outlook, then the FBI messaging system, and then the ‘filing cabinet’ Garcia built to help you understand the insanity that is the BAU online system. It submerges you every morning regardless. 

“What are you reading about?” you ask. Your emails can’t wait, but you don’t want to read them, so you won’t for another ten minutes. 

He stumbles over a breath. 

“Spencer?” 

“It’s courtship rituals.” 

You regret asking. Whenever you and Spencer talk about feelings, or love, or romance, you end up hot as a kettle on a stovetop, steam billowing from your ears. You choked on a mouthful of lukewarm tea a few days ago when he’d mentioned America's developing hook-up culture. 

He doesn’t tell you any more, which is unlike him. Spencer Reid loves to talk, or loves to share what he’s learned. You looked it up —it’s called info-dumping, and it’s usually because the person telling you is so deeply fascinated by the topic they’re investigating that they can’t contain it. It’s a common symptom of ADHD, or autism, or both. Spencer’s done it since the day you met, which is nice. You feel like he trusts you. 

And so you’re wondering now if you’ve done something to make him think he can’t do it today. Or maybe he’s not feeling well. 

You prop your face in his hand and watch him. 

He doesn’t look upset, only focused. 

You hate quiet. You love not talking, but gaps of silence have you overthinking things. Maybe he’s mad. Maybe you’ve finally pissed him off. 

It’s scary because he’s amazingly kind. Overwhelmingly nice. He’s lovely and good looking but it’s his heart that shocks you every time, how he’s looked after you, defended you.

“Spencer, are you okay?” you ask. 

He blinks to attention. “What?” 

“You’re not talking.” 

He grins. “I’m thinking.” 

His smile when he looks like he’s about to laugh is everything. 

“Don’t think too much,” you say as you play with a button on your coat. “Isn’t that what you always tell me?” 

“Don’t think too much because you think about things you don’t need to,” he amends. “You worry about everything.” 

“Well, so do you.” 

“Exactly. I’ll worry enough for you, too.” Spencer gives you a smile you don’t understand. “Will you come to the archive with me? I want to talk to you about something.” 

“Spencer…” He just acknowledged that you worry about everything. 

“Sorry,” he laughs. “Something with no pressure. I’ll explain it as we walk.” 

You shed your coat and walk together out of the BAU offices down a long hallway. You take the elevator down to the ground level, spring air in the hallways, early morning sunshine lapping at your shoes where it’s settled golden against the marble floor. Spencer professes that it’s nothing to worry about again, but he doesn’t elaborate, and your heart begins to pulse too quickly. 

You can’t look at him. 

“I’ve been reading about these courtship rituals and… looking at which ones are the best. There are thousands of them, but contemporary courting isn’t easy. It confuses me. With my last, my only girlfriend, we wrote each other letters. But I wanted this time to be different, because– because love is different?” He grimaces. 

“Love is different,” you agree. You’re not sure who he means, your chest panging in two different beats. Is he… talking about you? “It’s different every time.” 

“I was looking for the more subtle rituals. I kept thinking I’d find the right one, and that I’d know it when I saw it, but I can’t find anything suitable and I might need your help. Um, if you even want to help me.” 

“Of course I do.” 

Spencer slows just outside of the archive’s door. “Everything I read about feels like it would just embarrass you. I picture buying you flowers and I feel like you’d just– just explode.” He says it with affection and apology alike. “I wrote you a poem. Emily told me not to give it to you, though.” 

“You wrote me a poem?” 

“I made you a love spoon, too, but I can’t whittle, and it looks terrible. I even cut my hand, and if you rejected me you’d have to give the spoon back and I think that would make it worse.” 

You turn completely still. The last thing you expected that morning was for Spencer to confess. And he is confessing, a small smile on his face, patience, nervousness, close enough to feel the heat of him beside you. You short circuit in an attempt to compute the magnitude of it; Spencer wants to court you, and you can’t handle it. 

Your exhale shudders out of you. Goosebumps attack your arms. 

“Sorry,” he says quietly, “are you okay?” 

“Spencer, I don’t think you could ever find a way to tell me that wouldn’t make me feel like this.” 

“How do you feel?” 

“How am I supposed to feel?” 

Spencer’s smile fades a touch. “I don’t know. You can feel how you want to feel, it isn’t up to me. But I have feelings for you. I thought you knew.” 

It’s like knowing that the lottery numbers were chosen specifically to match your ticket. The thing he’s talking about doesn’t make sense. 

“Are you kidding around?” you ask. 

“What? No.” He holds your wrist gently. “Of course not.” 

You swallow a lump and try not to overreact, though you’re already doing that. This is a good thing, it is, but he’s him and you’re you and every time he touches you it’s like fireworks are bursting warm and tingly over your skin. You smile at his chest, cheeks dimpling from how wide it stretches. 

“You don’t have to court me, um. Not in any way like that. I’m just like every other girl, you know? I like flowers. I,” —your cheek lists down toward your shoulder bashfully— “probably would feel a little embarrassed, but I like flowers. I can get you flowers.” 

Spencer really laughs. “You want to get me flowers?” 

“Maybe?” 

He laughs again. His eyes lock onto you and his open hand closes on the opposite arm, putting you face to face. “It was my idea,” he says, playfully argumentative. 

“Okay.” 

“You want to hear the poem?” he asks, quietening again. 

You nod slowly. “N’I wanna see the spoon.” 

“Can I please kiss you?” He takes a breath, like he’s been running. “I know this isn’t the right place, but I didn’t expect to want it this badly.” 

“I don’t think there’s a wrong place…” 

“So I can?” he asks, lifting a hand to your cheek, to hold you with care. 

You nod into his approach, find yourself kissed and held tightly in a split-second of warmth and warm smells. His nose touches yours in a kiss of their own, his lips part lightly before pressing in again. Two kisses lend to a third, but then he pulls away to look at you. As quickly as it started, it’s over. 

“You're overheating already,” he says, thumb rubbing a sweet path under your cheek. 

You don’t know what to say. He ducks his head just that little bit to make sure you’re okay. Understanding flows between you both. His hand falls behind your back to pull you in for a hug. 

“I’ve never been the confident one in any of my relationships,” he admits. 

“I usually am.” 

Your deadpan lights him up. His hug turns strong armed, and he walks you back, giggling, arms a comforting vice around you. “You can be the shy one this time,” he says, seemingly unaware of how his using the word ‘relationship’ has thrown you for another loop. 

You’re hot as a furnace all morning. Spencer makes excuses for you, but Emily’s amazing at her job. 

“Jesus, Spence, you didn’t read her the poem? I told you it was too much.” 

[bullet-prooflove]

Bunny: Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @dizzybee03 @cosmic-psychickitty @puredicks @queenslandlover-93

Companion piece to:

Lipstick (NSFW) - Robby has never been with a woman like you.

Crisis - Robby has a bad day.

ASMR For The Soul - Robby doesn’t sleep when you’re not around.

Something To Complain About (NSFW) - You ignite the ire of Robby’s neighbour with your bedroom noises.

Noise Cancelling - Robby discovers his neighbour keeps a spreadsheet of your antics.

Robby doesn’t realise you’ve been keeping secrets, not until three months into the relationship when they all come hurtling out in the midst of one of his shifts.

It starts when an elderly resident named  Bonnie King arrives from one of those upscale nursing homes. She’s been brought in with fractured skull, disoriented, crying out for Bunny. They can’t work out if the confusion she’s exhibiting is from the injury or the dementia so Robby steps in to help with the assessment.

“Whose Bunny?” He asks Bonnie, trying to gauge her lucidity after they settle her down.

“My daughter.” She responds as Whitaker cleans up the head laceration from her slip and fall in the bathroom. “She’s pro surfer out in Hawaii. She taking a shot at the world championships soon. Maybe I can set the two of you up?”

“I’ve already got a girlfriend Ms King.” Robby tells her as he flashes a penlight into her eyes to check her pupil reaction. “But thanks for the thought.”

“Oh she won’t be as pretty as my Bunny.” She guarantees as she reaches for her purse and  pulls out an accordion of photographs, shoving them under his nose.

He surveys them with feigned interest, the baby pictures, the teenage years. It isn’t until he reaches the early twenties that he realises that her Bunny, holding a surfboard with a whole host of sponsorship labels attached to it, is his Allegra.

“Why do you call her Bunny?” He asks, struggling to put the pieces together because you have never mentioned Hawaii or surfing, not the entire time he’s known you.

“She was always an energetic little thing.” Bonnie said fondly as he hands her back the wallet containing your precious memories. “She used to bounce off the balls as a child…”

“…just like a bunny.” He finishes because you have ADHD and he guesses that was how it manifested as a kid.

“That’s right.” She beams and that smile, it’s definitely yours.

Robby does a little research after that, watching surf videos, reading interviews. The shit you used to do on the water it’s phenomenal, which raises questions about why you aren’t still doing it. It isn’t until he compares your mom’s medical file with a couple of articles from around the time of your retirement that he gets his answer.

Family circumstances, you’d told the interviewer. It tallies up with your mom’s initial diagnosis. She’d been clipped by a car after wandering into the street, admitted with a fractured hip and confusion.

You must have given up your career to move back to Pittsburgh and take care of her, using your winnings from the competitions to make sure she was in a top of the line care facility. He’s seen how you live, it’s not the lifestyle of someone who has hundreds of thousands of dollars in the bank.

He can’t imagine what it must have been like to give up that dream, to move to a place where the closest beach is almost three hours away when your entire life has been spent out on the water. He thinks that must be why you don’t talk about, the pain of letting that all go…

It would have destroyed a lesser person.

It’s an hour later you arrive at the hospital. You’d been out hiking at Montour Woods Conservation Area when you got the call. He realises all that outdoor shit you do, it’s a way of trying to find that peace you lost when you left Hawaii.

“My mom?” You ask, your voice raw with emotion when you appear in front of him and Dana.

“Let me take you to her, fill you in on what’s going on.” He says kindly before he guides you to her room. That reunion, it’ll be etched into his psyche forever because your mom, she’s started sundowning, she doesn’t even know who you are.

He’s waiting for you on the stoop of the townhouse apartment you rent when you get home from settling your mom back at her accommodation. There’s a fatigue in you that he recognises from his own final years with his father, the strain of being absolutely nothing to the person you love most in the world.

“If you’re going to end things with me, can you just rip off the band aid?” You ask him, in a voice completely devoid of emotion. “I’ve had just about as much as I can take tonight.”

“I don’t want to end things.” He tells you as he raises to his feet, his hands coming to rest upon your hips, anchoring you. “I just wanted to ask how you’re doing.”

You tilt your head away from him because up until now you’ve always been his sunshine girl, the one he relies on. It isn’t until now he sees how much weight you carry, how you’ve been hiding it underneath that shiny, fun girl persona.

“The only time I feel like I can breathe is when I’m with you.” You find yourself telling him. “The stuff with my mom, with Hawaii, it doesn’t matter because you see me, you really fucking see me…”

You break then, you shatter underneath his hands and Robby, he does the only thing he can do, he wraps you up in his arms and he holds on for dear life.  

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[saphronethaleph]

Literary Illusions

“It’s ironic,” Palpatine said, shaking his head. “He could save others from death, but not himself.”

Anakin frowned.

“And this is something the Jedi wouldn’t have told me?” he asked.

“Of course not,” Palpatine replied. “Is it a story you’ve heard?”

“Well, yes,” Anakin said. “Just now, from you. But not before then… and that surprises me, Chancellor.”

Palpatine shrugged. “I think you’ll find, Anakin, that the Jedi have not been telling you everything.”

“Maybe not, but… honestly, that sounds like exactly the kind of thing they’d tell me,” Anakin said.

Palpatine frowned.

“...what?” he asked.

“You know,” Anakin said. “Some Sith Lord works out how to bring people back to life from the dead, but his apprentice kills him and doesn’t bring him back to life because the Sith are inherently self destructive. If the two of them had worked together and been able to trust one another, they’d have been immortal.”

He shrugged. “It’s a good illustration of the inherently self destructive nature of the Dark Side, and it’s the dichotomy of how the Dark Side leads you to seek power in order to achieve goals that you then discard as irrelevant, because they’re not directly related to gaining power… hold on a second.”

Palpatine was a little distracted by trying to avoid mentally kicking himself, so it took him somewhat more than a second to notice what Anakin was doing.

“...Anakin?” he said. “Are you getting your comlink out?”

“Yeah,” Anakin replied. “Going to text Obi-Wan, ask him what he thinks of the story. Maybe there’s some kind of detail I missed which makes it less of a good illustration of the different worldviews and mindsets of the Jedi and the Sith.”

The Knight shrugged, his thumbs tapping away at his comlink. “He probably knows it, he knows all of the old stories.”

Palpatine blinked several times.

“...don’t,” he said, then very discreetly scrambled for a reason why. “It’s the middle of a performance. We don’t want to interrupt them.”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s on silent,” Anakin replied, with a shrug. “Or vibrate. Did I put it on vibrate… hang on, Chancellor, I’ll make sure it’s on silent…”

He turned the comlink over, then a loud bwing sounded.

“Oh, right, I forgot to set it to do not disturb mode,” Anakin said. “Hang on… uh… yeah, there we go, I forgot I added all these custom modes. I’ve been missing a lot of sleep lately.”

“Perhaps-” Palpatine began, but Anakin spoke over him.

“Huh,” he said. “He says he’s never heard of it either. Wants to know where I heard about it, it looks like he’s really interested… or maybe he’s trying to tell me about a death stick vendor, he’s terrible with multiglyphs and he thinks he’s good at them.”

Anakin glanced at the Chancellor, hoping for some solidarity, then visibly noticed that the Chancellor was several decades older than him and abandoned that.

“Is there a book I can get the whole story from?” he asked, instead. “Obi-Wan is better at nuances, like I say.”

“That is not the point,” Palpatine said, trying not to get visibly angry. “The point is that there is a way to save your loved ones!”

“Maybe there used to be, but not any more,” Anakin shrugged. “Like you said, this was a Sith thing and the Sith are all dead. Well, unless General Grievous is a Sith who knows how to heal people, but I doubt it given how much he got hurt, and I’m not sure Dooku knew it either… hey, if this story needs to be publicized more then maybe we could have them do a play of that instead?”

Palpatine blinked several times, as he tried to keep up with a Jedi with possible undiagnosed ADHD and found himself discovering a lack of talent for podracing.

“What?” he asked.

“You know, a play,” Anakin explained. “Dramatic betrayals, lost loved ones, it would probably do numbers. It’d be better than this, anyway.”

He waved his hand at the ongoing performance of Squid Lake.

“...what is wrong with Squid Lake?” Palpatine said, before reflecting that that had really been a stupid question for him to ask and that he should have asked a much better one.

“Well, uh,” Anakin began, looking a bit abashed. “Actually now I say it out loud this might be really culturally insensitive of me, but to me this play might as well be eighty minutes of people boasting about having enough water to swim in.”

“It’s a ballet,” Palpatine told him, now completely having lost control of the conversation.

“It’s just a less scary version of Sarlacc Pit,” Anakin went on. “Someone tried to drown me in a lake once, because they thought I couldn’t swim, but floating on sand is much harder, you barely have to do anything to escape a lake. You just float.”

Very belatedly, Anakin caught sight of Palpatine’s look of total befuddlement, and shrugged.

“Watto was a lot of things,” he said. “But he had culture.”

Palpatine’s hands twitched, as he very seriously considered the idea of abandoning literal centuries of Sith planning and decades of personal political advancement in favour of stabbing Anakin somewhere it would hurt.

It was extraordinarily tempting.

“...hold on,” Anakin said, slowly. “I guess… the thing I’d like most at the moment is for… and that means… this is literally one of those times when I could fall to the Dark Side because of it, like Darth Plagueis.”

He bestowed a grateful smile on Palpatine. “Thanks, Chancellor! I need to make a call, I guess the ballet won’t mind.”

Palpatine was so thrown by the swerve that he couldn’t think of a way to stop Anakin in the few seconds he had.

“Love?” Anakin said, into his commlink. “I… think we need to come clean, because otherwise I’ll fall to the Dark Side.”

Palpatine’s eye twitched.

[nihilistem]

adhd study affirmations + tips to stray from discouragement by a stem student with adhd.

you’re not always going to be consistent. you’re not always going to be motivated. you’re not always going to be efficient. and that is okay.

edit : thank you so much to whoever blazed this post. It means the world to me.

and the fact that you even got this far is an accomplishment in and of itself. In this line of work, people aren’t always the kindest to neurodivergent people especially since our symptoms can often hinder our performance academically.

if you’re good to go after reading the above, I’ve also made a post regarding adhd study tips that I haven’t seen anywhere else. (Part 2 is here!) But, if you’re burned out like me, feel free to keep reading.

honestly, these might serve a bit more as reminders because they’re kinda simple but even I needed this, so, here we go.

do not seek advice from anyone neurotypical unless it genuinely helps you. I cannot tell you the amount of time and tears I could have saved if I just considered the fact that just because popular self-improvement tips or study techniques didn’t work for me, it doesn’t mean I’m stupid or useless. It simply means our brains isn’t motivated by the same things neurotypical ones are, and therefore a lot of popular self-improvement videos or study tips aren’t going to work for you because 90% of the time, they’re not designed to work for neurodivergent people. So if you’d like to seek help in this area, look for tips and videos that ARE for neurodivergent people.

you might experience burnout a lot more than others. again, that is fine. if this doesn’t apply to you, great! Feel free to skip to the next tip/affirmation. If this does apply to you, read this carefully; if you’ve had any sort of streak in studying right now, chances are you know at least a portion of your studies were led purely on interest, curiosity or even novelty, as these are what keep us engaged in our studies. Knowing this, it is natural for you to experience burnout more frequently than others due to the possible hyperfixations that have been forming around your work. If you get burned out, please remember to take a break for a day and make sure it is efficient. Like your studies, your breaks are the key to having efficient study sessions in the future. So please treat yourself, especially if you’ve been working extra hard!

do not admire studious fictional characters unless it genuinely helps you or they too are neurodivergent. I know this technically could have been thrown in with tip number 1 but I felt like this tip alone is so important, because nowadays I see a lot of study tips with the title, ‘how to study like (insert studious fictional character here)’ and when I look at the post it kinda repeats the same few study tips I see all the time like ‘stay organized’ or ‘time block your day’ and I feel like admiring fictional characters who do things that don’t work for you can be damaging for your mental health, because we’re already told by neurotypical people all around us that we’re slow or lazy just because we don’t do things the way they do, and I think idolizing neurotypical people that make us feel bad at the end of the day just further promotes that kind of toxic thinking.

expect that a routine/schedule/technique that has been working for a while now may not continue to work in the future. things will always have to be new for us to be interested or engaged, that being said, if you expect this in the future you won’t be frustrated with yourself because you already had this in mind. It doesn’t mean you’re not smart. It doesn’t mean you’re lazy. It doesn’t mean you’re useless. It just means that you’ve done what you could, and now it’s time to move on to another routine/schedule/technique.

keep doing the things you love alongside work. I find that because our symptoms may cause us to fall behind on our studies, we tend to neglect our other needs as human beings just to make up for the fact that we simply do not learn or pick things up the same way neurotypical people do. Your hobbies and interests need to be part of your day, just as your studies do, even if you may take longer to learn things or remember important concepts in your studies. Neglecting your hobbies or interests can lead to even more frequent burn outs and even a relapse in depression and anxiety, so please take care of yourself and recognize that you need and deserve these things just as much as anyone else.

regularly discover what works for you on your own. here’s the thing; neurodivergent or not, no two brains work the same. Of course it is good to try out advice or tips you find online because they’re backed up by experience, but they’re backed up by that person’s experience with working with their own brain. So naturally, you need to find what works with your brain. Be open to trying everything, even the tips that are discouraged like listening to lyrical music while studying. That was the only way I learnt that this tip actually does help me at times, even when many people have said that it negatively affects your focus.

that’s all I have right now guys, I think I’m experiencing burn out or probably falling back into depression again so more than anything this also served as a reminder for me, but I really hope it also helped you guys nonetheless.

As always, tell me if you guys would like more posts like these and I’ll be happy to make more <33 please take care of yourself guys, and remember that your studies is just one aspect of your life. There are other aspects that need your care and attention too.

[idiopath-fic-smile]

so literally eight years ago i posted a snippet of a modern retelling of Much Ado About Nothing set in a student co-op and for no particular reason, the concept is tickling my brain right now. so uh here, have this? i guess?

“So, Ursula, my dear,” said Lee, taking the seat across from her at the dinner table. “My fluffy little crumpet. My buttery brioche bun. My tangy slice of pumpernickel—”

Ursula squinted up from her Anthro reading. “Uh-oh,” she said. “You only call me bread when I’m in trouble.”

“Happened to glance at the meeting notes this morning,” Lee continued, her voice rising. “You’ve got anything you wanna explain or defend?”

Ursula flicked her highlighter from one finger to the other, determined to play it cool. “I think it’s all pretty self-explanatory. Which meeting notes, exactly, were you glancing at?” She peeked out of the corner of her eye to check how this was going down. 

Poorly. 

Lee stared at her, apparently at a loss for words, which was not a great look for the house president.

“You did this more than once.”

“I take notes every meeting, Lee,” she said, as levelly as possible given how Lee’s ‘I’m not angry, just disappointed’ Mom vibes were oozing from every pore. “It’s my job, as house secretary.”

“Is it?” said Lee tightly. “Is it your job?” She whisked opened her laptop and read aloud: 

“Benedick’s eyes blazed with passionate fury. His nostrils quivered. ‘Well,’ he said in a low growl, hair resplendent under the environmentally friendly fluorescent lights, ‘personally, I think if anything, there's not ENOUGH lentils—’ Beatrice gasped. It was so wrong, and yet…”

Ursula winced. “‘Said in a low growl’ is wordy. I should’ve just put ‘growled’.”

Lee pinched the bridge of her nose. “Ursula,” she began, “just how much of our official co-op house notes, which by the way are formally submitted each month to the Co-op Board, are written as if Benedick and Beatrice’s stupid arguments are some kind of torrid Harlequin paperback?”

“That depends.” Ursula steepled her fingers, dropping the highlighter in the process. “How much of my notes do you have access to?”

“All of them,” Lee gritted out. “Because they’re public. That’s what I’m saying.”

 “Look,” said Ursula. “I don’t think I said this when I ran, but I wanted to be house secretary in the first place because a lot of the time, taking notes is the only way I can make myself concentrate. I would literally be taking notes during the meeting anyway. It’s an ADHD thing.” 

Ursula sighed. “And pretty early on, it became clear that meetings in Messina House are basically just a Sexual Tension Thunderdome for Benedick and Beatrice. They go back and forth for pages sometimes. I can feel every electrical connection in my brain fighting to zone out. So yeah. For a while I rewrote their fights as rhymed couplets, for a very short bit of time I had Balthazar set them to sea shanties, and since last December, I’ve been transcribing very close to their actual words, with very close to their actual intentions, plus just a tiny bit of genre trimmings. If they’re gonna waste my Saturday and test my focus, I’m doing what I can to stay awake and keep my typing fingers limber. I’m up to 75 WPM, by the way.”

“December?” Lee repeated. “Ursula, it’s October. You’ve been doing this for over a semester?” A terrible wave of realization seemed to sweep over her just then, regarding the general pacing and content of a standard Harlequin. “Please tell me,” she whispered, “there is no sex in the meeting notes—”

“There’s no sex in the meeting notes,” Ursula interrupted. “Per se,” she added under her breath.

Lee’s lips were pressed together into a thin line. “One year,” she said. “I want one year where nobody drives a motorcycle down the hallway or accidentally mixes up chlorine gas during their bathroom clean, or spends almost a full calendar year slipping smut into the public record—!”

“Excuse you,” said Ursula. “Smut’s a different genre altogether. This is romance. Slow-burn, enemies to lovers.”

Lee threw up her hands, nearly knocking over her laptop. “What are you gonna do if Benedick or Beatrice sees this?” “Oh.” Ursula froze. “Uh-oh.”

“Yeah, uh-oh,” she said. “Look, clearly there’s only one thing to do.”

Ursula nodded. “Right, we have to execute a series of far-fetched shenanigans designed to turn those two fighting fish into a pair of cooing lovebirds, stat.”

“No,” said Lee. “What? No, you need to go back and rewrite all of—”

Pedro slid into the room in his socks. “Oh sweet, are we hooking up Benedick with Beatrice?”

“Hell yeah,” said Ursula. They high-fived.

Lee closed her laptop with a snap. “Ursula, what are the odds,” she said, “that you actually buckle down and rewrite all of the meeting notes to read like they were written in the genre of meeting notes?”

“Oh, like, zero,” said Ursula, as Pedro chimed in, 

“Yeah, that will not happen.”

Lee looked despairingly back and forth between Ursula and Pedro. “What do you think is the likelihood that playing love gods will like, actually, genuinely work?”

“Twenty percent,” said Ursula.

Margaret glanced up from the other end of the table, where she was gluing together a collage of every restaurant on campus that had ever given her food poisoning. It was for class, was the thing.

Art school kids, man.

“We’re tricking Benedick and Beatrice into giving themselves over to their intense chemistry?” asked Margaret.

“Thirty percent,” said Ursula, because Margaret was inscrutable much of the time but surely they would have a fighting chance with more of the Humanities on their side.

At “intense chemistry,” Lee shuddered. “That reminds me,” she said, standing and scooping up her laptop, “I need to post a sign in the basement bathroom warning people not to mix bleach with acid.”

“Are you in?” said Pedro as Lee attempted to slip out the door. “Love Gods?”

“Jesus Christ,” said Lee.

“Not a love god,” Margaret announced. She had found the sequins, and was applying them with enthusiasm. “Except in the general Peace on Earth sense, I guess.”

“I’m texting Hero,” said Ursula, digging for her phone. “She knows Beatrice better than anyone. She’ll have tips. That puts our potential success rate at 45%, easy.”

“If we’ve got Hero, we’ve got Claudia,” Pedro added. “And she’s been BFF with Benedick since freshman year.”

“This is a terrible plan,” Lee muttered. “Yeah,” said Ursula, “but you implied it yourself. If, uh, certain parties see my meeting notes, they will murder me. Do you really want a fellow co-oper’s blood on your hands?”

Just then, Benedick burst into the room, Beatrice on his heels.

“I’m sorry,” Beatrice shouted, “are you genuinely trying to argue that soybeans are the superior legume? Soybeans? Over chickpeas? Over kidney beans? Hell, over peas?”

“Soy milk,” said Benedick, counting on his fingers, “silken tofu, miso, tempeh, firm tofu—”

Beatrice took a step closer to him, eyes flashing, “I have never in my life had tempeh that tasted like anything other than an evil Cliff Bar.”

“It’s not my fault your tastebuds were installed backwards,” said Benedick. “This from the woman who still, in the year of some people’s lord 2024, thinks lattes are ‘too trendy’—”

“Espresso is a waste of coffee grounds,” said Beatrice in a low, dangerous voice.

Benedick gasped. “You take that back.”

Beatrice took a step closer. “Coldbrew has more flavor and more caffeine.”

“Coldbrew,” Benedick echoed, stepping even closer. “You’re defending that swill over a nice mocha? Get latte’s name out of your mouth.”

Benedick and Beatrice were standing almost nose to nose, breathing hard.

“You know what?” said Lee from the door. “Ursula? Fuck it, I’m in.”

Ursula whooped. Margaret reached for the glitter glue. Benedick and Beatrice visibly both ran through their mental rolodexes of coffee-related insults. 

From the entryway came the distant revving of a motorcycle engine. Borachio was no doubt doing wheelies in the foyer again, but that was a problem for house presidents, not innocent house secretaries who had done no wrong, thought Ursula as she returned to her reading and her growing mental to-do list.

[rebelliousstories]

One in the Same

Relationship: Logan Howlett/The Wolverine x Reader, Wade Wilson/Deadpool x Reader

Fandom: X-Men

Request: Yes by Anon

Warnings: Fluff, Brief Angst, Brief Strong Language, Brief Mentions of Violence

Word Count: 1,508

Main Masterlist: Here

X-Men Masterlist: Here

Summary: Hailing from the land of maple syrup and politeness, Logan is not sure how he feels about this arrangement with the merc.

“Oh, I’m telling you peanut. I feel wonderful about this one.“

“Would you shut the fuck up already? Don’t wanna scare her off before she agrees to help us.”

If you were to ask Logan how he felt at the moment, he would tell you that no one should be this excited about meeting someone at eight in the morning. Wade had insisted on being up early because, according to his research, their new teammate was going to be unavailable for half of the day.

The duo made their way, in civilian clothes no less, to a random apartment in Queens to find this person. She was not particularly difficult to find, but she was always busy. Wade never got bored conducting reconnaissance on her because she moved around and did enough things to satisfy his untreated ADHD. A dingy gold plated 97 hung on her door, and caused the bald mutant to get all giddy.

“Oh this is it! This is it. Okay, how do I look?” Wilson fixed his clothes and imaginary hair while Logan arched an eyebrow.

“As ugly as you usually do.” The older mutant took it upon himself to knock three times. No answer. He rapped three more times, and waited for a moment.

A muffled voice called out, “be right there!”

The two men stood awkwardly in the hallway as they waited. Wade kept bouncing around from foot to foot, and fiddling with his clothes. When he inevitably got bored of that, he took to trying to tickle one of the tuffs of hair on Logan’s head. That only earned him a warning the first time. The second, claws were coming out and dangerously close to cutting off the offending hand.

Before he could, the door in front of them opened to reveal a woman that was bundled up for the cold New York weather. They all took a moment to see what was happening in front of them before someone decided to move. Her eyes were wide as she traced over the smooth lines of Logan’s claws, and the rough dimpling of Wade’s skin.

“Oh my god. Hi! You finally answered!” The merc exclaimed happily. He dodged the metal that dared to slice his hand off, and made his way to the mutant that had opened the door. Logan, still feeling her eyes on his claws, sheathed them back into his body.

“Hello. And you two are?” She asked hesitantly, feeling a bit uneasy around the two men.

“Well that was probably as good of a first impression as we could get. I’m Wade Wilson, aka Deadpool, aka Marvel Jesus. And this hunk of a man next to me is Logan, aka The Wolverine, aka Marvel Daddy.” Said hunky man closed his eyes, sighed, and dropped his head in defeat at the words the man spoke.

“Well, how can I help you boys? Would you like to come inside?” Stepping to the side, she led the two men inside to her living room.

Logan tried to keep his eyes on the woman they were there to see, but occasionally, his eyes would drift off to take in his surroundings. Wade, on the other hand, had already tried to break off from the group twice. Except Logan would not allow him to wander around the area, which meant that he kept his hand on the back of his collar until they sat on the couch.

“Can I get you gentlemen anything? I’ve water, coffee, some juice. Might even have something stronger, but it’s a little early for that.” A chuckle ripped from her throat.

“I’ll have a coffee. But only if it comes from a laughing man.” Wilson spoke up, happily bouncing in his spot. Two sets of eyes looked at him confused.

“I’ve just got whatever they carry at the bodega. Hope that’s okay.” Making her way into the kitchen, the woman began to make a small pot of coffee.

“So, what brings two gentlemen to my door on this fine morning?” The aforementioned men turned to face the woman who was now leaning against the threshold. Wade was on the edge of his seat at the prospect of telling their tale, meanwhile Logan had his elbows on his knees, ready to jump in and save this nice woman from the red menace.

“We need your help with restoring the multiverse. And I need someone to help this old grumpy kitty relax a bit. He just needs some human companionship.” Logan grabbed Wade’s wrist before the hand could plant itself on his shoulder.

“I’m not sure how I can help. My powers don’t tend to play well with others.” She lamented, grabbing the tray that now held all sorts of things. Coffee, cream, milk, sugar, and snacks littered the area once she set it down on the coffee table. As she made her cup, a solemn look took over her face but Wade was having none of that.

“Listen, I get it, okay? My friend here, he’s also the brooding, ‘haunted by the mistakes of your past’ kind of mutant. But you can overcome that! You can help save people. Sure we might not be Chuck, but we can definitely help you. So what do you say?” Wade tried to convince her. However, it only worked a fraction of what he had hoped.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know if I’ll be able to help,” she stated once more. While they talked, the Wolverine looked around the apartment and noticed something curious.

He placed his hands on his knees and stood, letting the two other people talk to each other as he explored. Logan felt his feet meet to where his eyes were locked on. Before he could stop himself, his hands curled around a picture frame that was surrounded by memorabilia. Turning, Logan brought the picture frame back to the living room. As he came back in, the woman and his reluctant friend had ceased their talking to focus on him.

“You play hockey?” There was a beat of silence.

“Yeah,” she began, “used to play anyways. Got an injury that took me out. But it was some of the best times of my life.”

“Who’d you play for?”

“A small female team. My personal favorites were the Maple Leafs from Toronto. Always good to have a good home team.”

“Wait a damn minute,” Wade jumped in, “‘home team’?” The mutant gasped dramatically.

“Yeah. I’m originally from a little town outside of Toronto, but I lived there for a long time.” She explained, a fond look crossing over her face as she looked at the frame.

“Oh my maple syrup.” He became misty-eyed as he looked towards the woman, “You’re from the promised land. You are Marvel Mary.”

“Shut up.” Logan growled, handing her the frame again.

“I’m confused. Why does it matter that I’m Canadian?” She puzzled, tracing fingers absentmindedly over the grooves of the picture frame.

“It doesn’t.”

“Oh, yes it does. It means that you are meant to help us save the timeline.”

“But why?”

“Because, our big ol’ kitty cat friend here hails from Canada. And, plus, we all know that this franchise would have never gotten anywhere without some spectacular Canadian actors and directors. Let’s face it. Canada turns out the best people for Marvel, not so much for the bastard’s across the road.” Wade’s explanation only further confused the woman, and infuriated the other man next to her.

“You’re Canadian?” She asked, turning to Logan. He grunted, but nodded his head in conformation.

“See? You’re meant to help us. We’re meant to be together! Like peanut butter and jelly, or Rose, Blanche, Dorothy, and Blind Al is Sophia.” Wade’s eyes were wide like saucers, and held a child-like excitement in them.

Logan scrubbed his hands over his face, but could not find the words to speak. On the other hand, the woman was giggling behind her hand so as to not aggravate or encourage anyone. But she eventually composed herself enough to form a sentence.

“I guess when you put it like that. I could be convinced to help you guys.” At her acceptance, Wade let out a happy yelp and clapped, while Logan just gave a small smile to the woman.

“Let’s go! Awesome. What do we do know?” He rattled off, stopping both Logan and the woman.

“What?”

“You don’t have a plan for what to do afterwards?” Logan snarled. Wade shook his head sheepishly.

“Why don’t we go get something to eat? I don’t have anything going on for the rest of my day. And I could certainly use some food.” Once more, Logan snarled at the merc who was looking giddy and terrified at the same time.

“What? Did I say something?” She asked, worry clouding her face.

“Nothing. Come on. Adventure awaits, mother Mary!” Wade skirted past Logan and grabbed the woman by the hand to lead her to the door.

It was going to be a rough morning, but there was nothing else that anyone wanted to be doing.

[sewersewersewercouch]

Microphone and ADHD: yet another very rambly analysis

GUESS WHO’S WRITING LONG TUMBLR POSTS ABOUT MIC AGAIN!!!!

i’ve been trying to formulate this post in my brain for a while and i’m finally writing it. I should add a disclaimer here: while i’ve done my own research for this, i’m also mostly writing from my own experience, which a) obviously every case of adhd is different, and b) while adhd is my only diagnosis at present, there are various other things that i’m questioning and in the process of being evaluated for which might also bleed into my experiences with adhd. If there are any issues please feel free to point them out! Also i don’t want to imply that if you don’t have adhd you can’t relate to mic, i’m just discussing the things i personally am seeing in canon. Also also, if this is weird and disjointed and rambly, well, you signed up to read a very long post by someone from adhd about blorbo from their shows.

I think what first comes to mind with Mic and ADHD traits for me is her impulsivity. This is something we see trip her up again and again—for example, when she yells at Fan in Tri Your Best, not considering how the noise could boost him into the air and ahead of her, or in Mazed and Confused, when she calls after Knife in the maze without realizing that Test Tube is in there as well. (And yes, she didn’t hear Baseball say that Test Tube was in there, but if she’d thought before she’d acted she might have considered looking around to make sure there were no Bright Lights missing as well.) Hell, another example I noticed was that during Mine Your Own Business, when Taco and Knife are arguing, Mic physically shoves Knife into the gem, and like, not gently, either—he slams into it pretty hard. It’s been pretty well established at this point that Mic is very averse to physical violence, and she definitely wouldn’t do anything like that intentionally, but the fact of the matter is, when she’s stressed like that, she just kind of makes a snap action without using her head.

This also ties into my second point, her difficulties with emotional regulation, which is something that’s very common with ADHD. I kind of struggle to describe how this shows up in Mic, because honestly, a lot of her seemingly overblown reactions are more of a “straw that breaks the camel’s back” type of situation where she takes so much shit from her teammates that obviously, who wouldn’t be upset? However, I do think it’s fair to say that she’s someone who’s quite easily frustrated, and can have a tendency to lash out quite harshly when she’s in this state. For example, in A Kick In The Right Direction, she’s pissed off about being relegated to goalie, which is fair, but she takes this out on Dough, who wasn’t involved in this decision, just because he happens to be near her, and she’s, like…pretty mean about it, too? Like, when he says he’s bored she says “so am I but not enough to talk to you” and then later flat out tells him to jump off a bridge. Yes, this second one was after he was distracting her and the Bright Lights got a goal past her, but still, it does feel like a pretty dramatic reaction. Especially as in general, Mic’s demeanor is friendly and outgoing, she clearly is someone who cares a lot about others’ well-being, and she’s just a nice person all around, but when something gets under her skin she’s immediately on the defensive and says stuff like this.

Also, just in general, Mic is very outwardly emotional. It’s one of the ways the narrative contrasts her with Taco, who for much of the story is incapable of giving up her facade, whereas Microphone is incapable of not wearing her heart on her sleeve. You can usually at any given time tell from Mic’s expressions and tone exactly what she’s feeling. This is especially noticeable as she’s frequently in a position where she has to lie, and she is…not good at it. Some of the time she falls back on the aforementioned defensiveness—for example, in Alternate Reality Show, when Suitcase asks what she’s painting and she replies, “Uh, zilch! Why are you picking today to talk to me for the first time ever?” and when Knife immediately after asks why she was late, she says, “I got other places to be? What’s it to you?” A lot of the time, though, she just gets all nervous and awkward. Adorable, undeniably, but not helpful when she’s in the position she’s in. (I was very charmed to find that she keeps this trait even after the game, what with her telling Taco to act natural and then going “Heyyyyy!!!! I, uh, found someone! :))))” as if that’s at all acting natural. Never change.) Mic feels everything very strongly, and she can’t naturally hide that like Taco can.

I also wanted to bring up Mic’s extreme sensitivity to negative feedback, or what’s often referred to as Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria—which, yes, I know that isn’t actually technically a diagnostic trait, but I would say it’s kind of an offshoot of emotional dysregulation combined with a response to being ostracised for being neurodivergent in a shitty ableist world. A lot of the time when Mic shows the traits I’ve mentioned here, and they trip her up, her teammates show her very little patience and compassion. (Baseball and Nickel are particularly guilty of this—Cheesy does it as well, but he also apologizes to her and it seems like they get along afterwards. Baseball, however, will be on thin ice until I hear a goddamn apology from him.) And while she tends to respond to their disparagement with anger externally, as mentioned above, it also clearly really upsets her in a deeper way. For all the amount she takes it out on others, she takes it out on herself tenfold: look at the words she uses to describe herself in her diary. “Annoying, harmful, random, useless, insignificant, loser.” This treatment, along with her previously mentioned sensitive emotions, make her very reactive to any form of perceived criticism or failure. Even in the finale, when she’s been through her own arc and had a while to heal from the toxic environment of the show, the image shown in the red line game shows that this is still what upsets her the most—the idea of being ignored and rejected by others.

I think this also goes the other way—she’s so sick of being disparaged that it turns into a desperation for approval and connection. This is kind of the foundation of her entire arc. I noticed this one moment in Mazed and Confused, where Taco offers to help her out and Mic says “Really? You would help me out?” as though she’s completely shocked by the idea of someone offering her help. Which makes sense—the only person who’s actually been there for her is Soap. And one could ask, why does Mic stay in her alliance with Taco? Clearly she realizes, deep down, that what she’s doing is unethical. Mic is someone who has a strong moral code that I think in most circumstances she’d care about more than the money. (Yes, I know, I know, the twist, but it’s been proven several times that contestants are more than capable of putting other things above the game. Look at Marshmallow, Clover, Lightbulb, and obviously, eventually Mic herself!) But I don’t think what keeps her pushing her cognitive dissonance down is actually anything about the money. It’s the approval she gets. Baseball, who as I’ve said is normally quite hard on her, compliments her when she does something right as a result of her cheating, and in so doing cements in her mind that cheating=people liking her. She also gets approval from Taco, which fuels this even more. And as this alliance goes on, it transforms into…well, I don’t know if I’d call it a friendship, per se, but it seems that Mic really does value Taco’s company and wants to connect with her on a more personal level, rather than just as a means to an end. This just muddies matters further, as Mic now has not only approval at stake, but also one of the few actual relationships she has in the game. It takes Taco killing two people in front of her for her to decide that’s not worth it.

I think I maybe got a little sidetracked from my point there, as I am very much wont to do, but I think this leads Mic to display some kinds of masking behavior. One facet of this is politeness/friendliness—and this is not to say that Mic isn’t genuinely an outgoing, friendly person. In my own experience, masking isn’t as cut and dry as “not acting like yourself”---rather, it’s often more putting certain, more socially acceptable aspects of one’s personality forward and suppressing the less acceptable ones. Her politeness also comes off as very stilted to me. For example, in Theft and Battery, where she says, “Guys, not to sound rude, but didn’t MePhone5S and 5C just try to kill MePhone4? Didn't this guy create them? Why would he support us if he just tried to kill us?” It seems like a weird thing to have to tack “not to sound rude” onto—it’s a completely valid and truthful point. But she’s so used to being perceived as rude that it seems she feels like she has to say that. There’s also another example I already talked about in a different post but will go back over here—in Mine Your Own Business, when Mic and Taco are trying to sneak past Knife, but Mic sneezes and then follows it up with “Sorry! ‘Scuse me!” Which, as Taco points out, isn’t something people normally do. And immediately Mic falls back on her other defense mechanism, lashing out. If you listen to what she’s saying when they’re arguing, it’s “What was I supposed to say, ‘bless me’ and bless myself? You’re the one who’s always trying to be proper, what’s your problem?” I think this moment says a lot about her—when she knows she’s messed up, she tries to cover for it with politeness, but she also doesn’t quite get the social rules right. It’s very much something that’s put on, not that comes naturally to her. (This is where I realized she has many parallels with my other favorite Cabby, but that’s a whole different can of worms.)

However, she also masks in kind of the other direction, that is, putting others down to boost herself up. The Grand Slams are not the healthiest of teams, to put it lightly, and Mic mimics the behavior she sees in others that brings them social success. For example, when she jokes to Baseball about not wanting to “pull a Balloon—” Balloon being unpopular as he is, she knows other people will find mocking him funny. And it works! Baseball laughs! She tries this again later, when she says to Knife “talk about emotional baggage” in regards to Suitcase, but this time he doesn’t respond well. Mic seems genuinely surprised at this—this method has worked for her before, so she’s put off by the fact that it doesn’t work this time. And I should say—this isn’t something Taco tells her to do. She does it entirely of her own volition.

Actually, looking at this more, it seems more like part of something she mostly does during her alliance with Taco—an unaffected, jokey front she tends to put on when she’s lying or messing with people, to…limited success, as discussed earlier, but I think she also uses it when she’s lying to herself, or trying to convince herself that what she or Taco is doing isn’t wrong. I had a few examples in mind. The first is in Kick the Bucket, right after the Nickel and Balloon double elimination, when she says, “Well, ha, what a lively experience! Well, not much to gain from sitting around and doing nothing. See ya!” It’s oddly nonchalant when clearly everyone around her is upset, and we see her look concerned for a second beforehand before she goes into this. I interpret that as her…kind of seeing that what just happened messed things up for a lot of people and that it was her fault, but she’s not ready to accept that truth yet. She also uses this affect throughout Mine Your Own Business—both with Taco, as an attempt to get her to open up, and with Knife, I think in some ways trying to mimic what Taco did to recruit her in order to do the same with him. Neither of these are successful. Knife being Knife, he’s someone who’s very able to see right through people (figuratively speaking, that is, because now people can literally see right through him! Get it? Because he’s a ghost? Please imagine the sound of Cheesy slapping his knee from somewhere in the distance). He plants seeds of doubt in Mic’s mind by telling her about Pickle—and she’s still not ready for those seeds to grow, but they certainly are there. In fact, the next time we see her use this behavior, it’s in Hatching the Plan, when she jokes that Taco will “inevitably drop me too or whatever.” She says it casually, but clearly what Knife said is still on her mind, and she’s trying to convince herself that what happened to Pickle won’t happen to her even though she doesn’t at all believe herself. I also think looking at this behavior has really clarified my view of her in the movie—at first I was frustrated at how she seemed much more calm and collected than I would have expected her to, both about the general horrors happening to everyone, and specifically about Taco. I talked about those criticisms in another post, and I do still stand by them to some extent, I would have written her differently. But I don’t think it’s as incongruent with her character as I did before—in fact, I think there’s plenty of precedent for her masking like that in situations of greatly conflicted emotion. (Oddly enough, I think it’s something she has in common with Taco, but Taco’s just better with it.) I kind of doubt she was quite mentally ready to reconnect with Taco yet, but in such a dire situation she doesn’t have time to process all that, so she just kind of shoves that to the back of her brain. Not to say that I don’t think she genuinely cares for Taco, but I do think there’s a lot of processing she hasn’t done yet about her that will hopefully be a topic of discussion later please please please AE please for me???? Anyways, I do think this is a response to her aforementioned emotional dysregulation tending to create problems for her, and it’s definitely a masking technique in my eyes.

I also want to touch briefly on Microphone and Soap’s friendship, because while it’s not evidence for my point exactly, per se, I do think it’s relevant. While unfortunately pretty stereotypical representation, I would say it’s generally considered true that Soap is coded as having OCD. Now I’m not going to say that all neurodivergent people can easily be friends with one another, I know that’s not true. However, looking at the scene we see with the two of them in Rain On Your Charade, it certainly plays a part in this specific friendship. Mic helps Soap cope with her compulsions, and Soap is the only person at this time who really values Mic and doesn’t see her as a burden just because she’s accident-prone.

One minor thing I also wanted to point out was how it’s pretty common for people with ADHD to struggle with controlling our voices, including the tone, speed, and…well, volume. I can’t count the amount of times I’ve had people tell me that I’m talking loudly and I didn’t even realize it. I trust I don’t have to explain how this point is relevant to Mic, and it does very much fit.

There was one specific line that inspired me to write this post, from Everything’s A-OJ: “I’m trying harder than anyone else, so why do I always lose?” One of the diagnostic traits for ADHD is described as making “careless mistakes” in activities, and I never have particularly loved that phrasing. It may look careless on the outside, because it’s often mistakes that other people can easily avoid, but when you have a disorder that affects your attention, impulse control, memory, executive function, et cetera et cetera et cetera, you doing your best might look like someone else half-assing it. Not to get too personal on my blorbo post, but I keep thinking about this one teacher I had in middle school who, when I messed something up in a class, said “oh, that’s such a Clonnie move!” I’m sure she doesn’t remember that, but I do, because when you hear over and over again that people associate you with making mistakes, that shit sticks with you, and eventually when nothing you do helps you start to feel like you’re the mistake. That’s why Mic as a character resonates with me so much. God willing AnimationEpic will bring my girl back because I would like to see how Mic heals from that mindset as time goes on and where she goes from here.

[ice-man-goes-bwoah]

Lost fidget toy|| Mick Schumacher x autistic fem!reader

Summary — reader lost her fidget toy and Mick helps look for it

Word count — 733

Fluff

A/n- this was requested by an anon I hope they are still around and this is from my old tumblr account

Also I LOVE writing for autistic reader and reader with adhd since I have both

Y/N’s hands trembled as she tore through the drawer for the third time, her breathing uneven and shallow. Papers, pens, and random trinkets littered the floor around her, but the one thing she needed was nowhere to be found. Her fidget toy—the one item that grounded her, especially on overwhelming days—was missing.

“It has to be here,” she muttered, slamming the drawer shut with a little too much force. The noise startled her, a sharp sound in the quiet apartment, and her frustration bubbled over. “Stupid! So stupid!” she snapped at herself, tears blurring her vision.

She dropped to her knees, shoving aside the coffee table, the cushions, even the rug. Her movements became frantic, her chest tightening as her mind spiraled.

“Why do I always lose things? Why can’t I just keep track of one stupid thing?” she cried, her voice cracking as the first tear slipped down her cheek. “I can’t do this. I can’t—” Her words dissolved into a sob.

She sat back on her heels, gripping her knees as she rocked slightly, the overwhelming panic settling like a weight on her chest. Her breath hitched, her mind a chaotic mess of self-blame and worry.

The sound of a key turning in the lock startled her. The door opened, and Mick stepped inside, his usual cheerful expression instantly replaced by concern when he saw her on the floor amidst the chaos.

“Y/N?” he called gently, setting his bag down as he took in the scene. “What’s going on?”

She didn’t respond, her face buried against her knees. Mick crouched a few feet away, careful not to startle her further.

“Can you tell me what’s wrong?” he asked softly, his calm voice a stark contrast to the storm inside her.

Her head lifted slightly, tear-streaked cheeks and red, puffy eyes meeting his worried gaze. “I lost it,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I can’t find my fidget toy anywhere, and I’ve looked, and looked, and—” She broke off with a hiccup, wrapping her arms around herself.

Mick moved a little closer, his expression soft. “Okay. It’s okay. I’m here now. Let’s take a moment to breathe, yeah? Just focus on me for a second.”

“I can’t—I can’t breathe properly,” she stammered, her voice rising.

“You’re doing fine,” he reassured her. “Just follow me. In… and out.” He inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly, keeping his movements steady and exaggerated.

Her breaths hitched a few times, but eventually, she mirrored him, her shaky exhales gradually evening out.

“There we go,” Mick said with a small smile. “You’re doing great. Now, let’s figure this out together, okay? Where did you last have it?”

“I think… on the couch,” she murmured, wiping at her cheeks. “I was using it while I watched TV this morning.”

Mick nodded, his voice encouraging. “That’s a good start. Let’s check around there.” He moved to the couch, crouching to peer under it while carefully lifting the cushions.

Y/N sat still for a moment, clutching her sleeves tightly. Seeing Mick so calm and focused made the crushing weight in her chest a little lighter. She pushed herself to her feet and started clearing the scattered items, her movements still shaky but more purposeful now.

“Got it!” Mick exclaimed a few moments later, his voice bright. He pulled the small fidget toy from under the coffee table and held it up triumphantly. “Looks like it decided to hide from you.”

Relief crashed over her like a wave, and she rushed forward, taking the toy from him and holding it close to her chest. “Thank you,” she whispered, fresh tears spilling over—this time out of gratitude.

Mick straightened, his warm hands settling on her shoulders. “You don’t have to thank me. You’ve had a tough day, and that’s okay. I’m just glad you’ve got it back now.”

Y/N nodded, but the guilt lingered. “I’m sorry I freaked out. I should’ve—”

“Hey,” Mick interrupted, his thumbs brushing comfortingly against her shoulders. “Don’t apologize. Everyone has moments like this. You’re allowed to feel overwhelmed, and I’m here to help. Always.”

Her lips quirked into a small, grateful smile. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Mick grinned, pulling her into a warm hug. “Good thing you’ll never have to find out.”

As she fidgeted with the toy in one hand, Mick held her close, gently rubbing her back. For the first time all day, the tension in her body melted away, replaced by the soothing comfort of Mick’s presence.

And though the apartment still lay in disarray, nothing else mattered. Mick was here, and that was all she needed.

[w3r3theli0nshunt]

POV: Task 141 + König finds out that you’re autistic

Task 141 + könig x autistic!reader

Okay okay a little self indulgence here. But this is also to somehow spread a positivity regarding the spectrum and also encourage people who feels insecure about being neurodivergent. This applies to anyone, not a specific gender.

And for people who don’t really relate, it’s fine. It’s normal to be different and it’s okay to be different.

There are some sexual themes here, but mostly wholesome fluff MDNI!!!!!!!!!!! - and sum angst as well

❤︎︎So here’s a lil authors note: You can still be loved and appreciated with or without the diagnosis🫶

★He’s definitely got ADHD or is at least on the spectrum, so he doesn’t judge you at all

★He’s a yapper and can’t help it, so when you tell him to stop talking so you can peacefully gather your own thoughts, he stops with a few whines along

★He’s a very touchy type and he loves touching you, and sometimes he forgets to keep distance when you tell him to stop

“Soap! Not today, please. I’ve been stressed”

“Dinnae worry, luv. I’ll try, but I cannae promise”

★He’ll be a little difficult to process your diagnosis, getting used to new habits, having to break old ones but he doesn’t really complain

★He gets really confused and stressed out not knowing what to do when you get (if) you meltdowns

★When you’re on dates, he makes sure to take you to a place that is less crowded so you don’t get stressed out

★When you feel mentally tired from socialising, he tries his best to keep distance and remain quiet so you can recover peacefully

★(If) sometimes you enjoy feeling pressure on you, it’s your way of stimming, he’ll happily lay above your body and fall asleep

★Gets really happy when you finally give him a peck or a kiss, or even a hug

★Sometimes he lets you squeeze his bicep or thigh as a way to stim, sometimes he even lets you try and braid his short Mohawk

★If you don’t like the consistency or taste of food, he’ll get you your ‘safe meal’ that he knows you like

★Sometimes you’re awfully quiet and distant, he takes it as if you’re mad at him and he tends to get worried

“I’m not mad at you if that’s what you think”

“Still cannae help it, I just dannae want ye ta leave me fer being touchy”

★He’ll steal kisses from you, making them quick so you can’t react

★He’ll miss the frequent sex like he used to have with his exes, but he’ll still love you as much.

★Not really familiar with the diagnosis, but he sure as hell do his research

★He’ll almost act like a dad would with his child, telling you to stop stimming with your hair or picking with your skin and place a fidget toy in your hand instead

★He admires your creativity, always flattered when you show off your drawing/sketches with a proud look on your face and enthusiastically explain it

★He can’t stop looking at you with such admiration when you cuddle with a pillow/squish-mallow while being focused on the tv

★He makes you write a list to him of foods you like and how you like them, just so he knows :)

★He’s a fast learner with you and knows how you work

★When you (if) get meltdowns, he knows exactly what to do. Either give you space or tightly putting pressure on your body to help calm you down

★He knows when you don’t want cuddling or sex, so he’ll back off. Just happy that you’re his

★When the places you go to are crowded, he’ll instantly take you to a calmer place

★You two usually have dates at home, but Price is good at making stuff romantic

★He’ll tell his friends about you a lot, telling them to not be too pushy or touchy

★He knows you don’t enjoy meeting new people so he’ll make sure to spare you from doing so as often as he can, but sometimes you have to and at those times he tells the people about you in first hand

“Your friends are nice, but I didn’t expect them to keep distance. Didn’t you tell me that they could be very nosy and pushy sometimes?”

“Well, this man right here turns out to be completely in love with you. And that also means that his friends are gonna have to accept my darling”

★He’s totally accepting of you and he’ll still love you just as much as before the truth came out

★Gaz is a very accepting and patient man, his feelings still stay as strong

★He also does a lot of research to try and understand you more, but also prefers when you tell him yourself as people are different and work differently

★He gets his friends to set up a romantic place that is private so that you can remain calm and relaxed not having a bunch of strangers stressing you out

★He totally understands if you don’t feel like being touched and he’ll back away until you feel like it again

★His soothing voice and compassion always manages to calm you down when (if again) you get a meltdown

“It’s alright, love. I’m here and it’s gonna be alright. Some days are bad, some are not”

“I-I love you so fucking much, man”

★He knows you love animals so he’ll always takes you to zoos, admiring you from afar as you gaze with such enthusiasm at the animals and your hands shaking by excitement and your small jumps

★When you distance yourself and talk less, he’ll always sit you down to talk because he’s worried that you’re mad at him, you’ll assure him that you just need some space and silence to recover from socialising all day, he’ll feel at ease afterwards and refuses to let you apologise for it

“I’m sorry, but I don’t feel like being intimate today”

“Don’t apologise, dear. Take your time, my arms will always be ready for you”

★He’ll happily stand behind and watch while you’re being ✨creative ✨ and he won’t stop complimenting

★Is always gentle with you, with both tone of voice and his affection, takes it slowly as he gives you time to pull away

★Doesn’t mind rewatching movies/series with you

★He’s aware of the diagnosis, knows a lot about it since he may also be on the spectrum as well

★He’ll also be very accepting, more so because he understand as well

★He’s not a very touchy and kissing, so he doesn’t have any problem with keeping a distance and giving you space

★When you have a meltdown, he just stares at you feeling immense guilt for something he didn’t do and his heart aching seeing you upset and stressed

★He doesn’t like going outside in public spaces a lot, so you usually have a date at home where he heats up your favorite meal in the microwave and pours a glass of your favorite soda

★If he spots you stimming in a way that could damage you, he stares at you with his brown eyes and say “quit it, love” before he lets you squeeze his thicc pectoral instead ;) it’s your own fault if he groans and his huge bulge poking at you

★Feels uneasy when you’re silent and distancing yourself, but he always finds a way to lurk around you, almost tip toeing around after you

★When you tell him that you want space, he gives you, but he’ll still linger around you, merely because he wants to make sure that you’re alright and also because of his own selfish reasons

★Quietly admires you when you show of your art to him, having to grab his chest later to make sure that his heart stays in there

★When you’re asleep and haven’t touched him for the whole day, he’ll indulge in his desire, so he wraps his arms gently around you and hug you for a while and then he’ll let go (after like an hour or so)

★He doesn’t really care for sex, but if you want to initiate, he’ll be a fool to decline

★He loves you way too much to just break up because of you

“How can you still wanna be with me? Don’t you want a partner who can be perfectly affectionate towards you?”

“Y/n, don’t even fuckin’ think that way. I’ll always choose you, with or without the diagnosis. And you know why? Because I fuckin’ love you”

★You say you love animals, he’ll buy you your favorite animal (as a pet, a pet friendly one……I hope)

★He has a huge understanding, mostly about the social stuff as he has the same difficulty

★His whole browser is full of ‘how does autistic people work?’ and ‘how to convince an autistic person to cuddle with me?’

“König, I don’t feel like cuddling today”

“But, liebling, how else will I show my love for you?”

★When you want space, he tries to convince you that he doesn’t wanna let go of you and that he’ll be sad if he won’t be able to see you

★Will literally get an anxiety attack being in crowded spaces, while you have to remain calm and try and drag the both of you away

★Whenever you stim, he’ll tell you to touch/squeeze him instead (sort of using it to his advantage to be touched by you)

★Will wrap his arms around and pull you tight against him in the middle of the night, instantly after you’ve falling asleep and play dumb the next morning when you ask him how you’re in his arms

★You two enthusiastically exchanges hobbies and interests

★If you’re sound sensitive, he’ll cover your ears, if you’re sensitive to specific consistencies, he’ll make mental notes to your preferences, if you’re sensitive to light, he’ll always pack a pair of sunglasses with him to give, if you feel the labels on the inside of your clothes poking your skin uncomfortably, he’ll cut them off.

★He steal kisses from you when you’re distracted or asleep

★When you’re quiet, he’ll stare at you to see every detail of your face and if it changes in the slightest, just to make sure that you’re alright

★Sometimes when you’re neutral (not feeling anything specific) he’ll assume that you’re mad at him and he’ll get extremely anxious

“Liebling, what can I do so you won’t be mad at me?! Please, i can change!”

“König, I’m not mad at you. Why would you assume that when you haven’t done anything?”

꧁✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰꧂

[strnilolover]

how did adhd!reader and chris or matt meet? (you choose which boy)

yk what let’s do both cause why not

Chris … You weren’t even supposed to be at the party. But, you somehow drug your friends along to some random house throwing this giant party that caught your eye. They kept telling you it was a bad an idea — you didn’t even know who’s house this was. But, you weren’t focused on that — not until it came to trying to socialize with random people.

You sipped on your drink, wandered through the house, and even made awkward small talk with a few people. But eventually, you escaped to the backyard for some air.

That’s when you saw it. A ping pong table.

It wasn’t just any ping pong table — it was set up with plastic cups arranged in a triangle at each end, a clear sign that an intense game of beer pong was in progress.

You didn’t even think before walking over.

“Hey, can I try?” you asked, interrupting a tall guy with messy hair who was mid-throw. He froze, blinking at you like you’d just asked him to solve a math problem. “What?”

“Beer pong,” you said, pointing at the table. “Can I try? I’ve never played before, but it looks fun.” The guy — Chris, as someone nearby called him — narrowed his eyes, sizing you up. He was cute, annoyingly so, with that effortless “I don’t care” attitude that made him stand out in the crowd.

“You’ve never played beer pong?” he asked, his voice dripping with disbelief. “Nope,” you said, popping the P with a grin. “But I’m really good at making random shots with, like, crumpled-up paper or popcorn, so I figure this can’t be much different, right?” Chris smirked, setting his cup down. “Alright, newbie. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

You picked up the ping pong ball, your hands slightly jittery from excitement. Focus wasn’t exactly your strong suit, but in that moment, the world narrowed to the ball, the cups, and Chris’s teasing smirk. You threw the ball — and missed. By a lot. Chris burst out laughing, and you couldn’t help but join in, doubling over as the ball rolled across the grass.

“Okay, so maybe it’s a little harder than it looks,” you admitted, straightening up. “Ya think?” Chris teased, still grinning. “Here, let me show you how it’s done.”

He grabbed another ball and lined up his shot, sinking it perfectly into one of the cups. The small crowd around the table cheered, and Chris turned to you with a cocky grin.

“See? It’s all about precision,” he said, miming a slow-motion throw for dramatic effect. You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help laughing. “Alright, show-off. One more try.”

This time, you aimed carefully, sticking your tongue out in concentration. You threw the ball — and it bounced off a cup and into someone’s drink. The crowd groaned, but Chris was laughing so hard he had to clutch his side. “That… was the worst shot I’ve ever seen,” he said between gasps. “But, honestly, 10 out of 10 for creativity.”

“Hey, I said I’d try, not that I’d be good,” you shot back, crossing your arms. Chris leaned against the table, his grin softening. “You’re funny. Annoying, but funny.”

“And you’re cocky, but surprisingly nice,” you replied with a smirk.

From that moment on, the two of you kept bantering back and forth, and by the end of the night, Chris was dragging you into more games—not because you were good (you were terrible), but because he liked how you made him laugh.

-

Matt … Matt had decided to take a walk through the park, his headphones on and hands tucked into his hoodie pockets. It was his go-to way to relax, soaking in the quiet hum of nature. He hadn’t planned on meeting anyone, least of all you.

The first sign of chaos was the bright pink kite, spiraling wildly through the air like it had a mind of its own. Matt noticed it out of the corner of his eye, just as it smacked against a tree branch, dangling pathetically.

“Ugh, no, no, no! Come on!” you groaned loudly — maybe too loud. Matt turned toward the voice and saw you, jogging toward the tree with a determined expression, your hair slightly disheveled and a spool of tangled string clutched in your hands.

“Stay here,” you muttered to the kite, like it could hear you. “Don’t go anywhere. Not that you can…”

You didn’t notice Matt watching as you grabbed the lowest branch, trying to pull yourself up. “Need help?” he called out, his tone amused.

You froze, halfway through an awkward climb, and turned to see him standing a few feet away. His dark hoodie, slight smirk, and steady gaze made him look effortlessly cool—so naturally, you immediately blurted out the most chaotic thing you could think of.

“Nope! Got it under control!” you said, though your foot slipped slightly as you spoke. Matt raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Because it really looks like you’re about to fall out of that tree.”

“I’m not gonna fall,” you insisted, though your grip tightened. “Probably.” He chuckled, stepping closer. “You sure? I can just grab it for you.” You sighed dramatically, giving up your pride. “Fine. But if you fall, that’s on you.”

Matt smirked, rolling his eyes. “Noted.” With an easy jump, he grabbed the branch and climbed up just enough to free the kite. He handed it down to you, brushing a few leaves off his hoodie as he hopped back to the ground.

“There. Crisis averted,” he said, smiling softly. You looked at the kite in your hands, then back at him. “Wow. I don’t know whether to thank you or feel embarrassed.”

“Both?” he teased, shoving his hands in his pockets. You laughed, your smile wide and genuine. “Okay, fair. Thanks, uh…”

“Matt,” he said, nodding slightly. You smiled, introducing yourself as well. “Didn’t mean to get the kite all stuck in the tree — i haven’t tried to fly one of these in a long time.”

He chuckled. “Well, you definitely made my walk more interesting.” You chuckled. “Glad I could entertain,” you said with a mock bow. Then, biting your lip, you added, “Hey, uh, since you saved the day and all… you wanna help me actually fly this thing?”

Matt tilted his head, considering. “You’re not worried I’ll run off with it?” You snorted. “Pfft. I’d chase you,” you said confidently.

He laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Alright, let’s do it.” The two of you spent the rest of the afternoon trying (and failing) to keep the kite in the air. By the time the sun started setting, Matt was laughing more than he had in weeks, and you were certain you’d just met someone who might make your life a little brighter.

[muffinsin]

E ai, como vai?I would like to make a request, would it be possible to have a headcannon about the dimi sisters with a girlfriend who has social anxiety, severe depression and adhd? i just got my diagnosis and i really wanted to know how they would deal with a girlfriend with these things

Hey hon :)🙌 Absolutely :) I think I’ve had similar prompts in the past to each of these and more, so this could be considered a larger version of those past prompts🥳

INFO: NEW big post series, a full roughtly 115 chapter fanfiction is gonna come out. Dark "romance", quite niche, Daniela x Donna :) First chapter will be posted either this week or on the weekend. Reblogs are gonna be super appreciated

Masterlists

Bela

She’s always been very caring towards you

What comes easy to her is often something you find yourself struggling with, and still you know; she’s always there for you

She takes care of things you find uncomfortable, helps you manage things you struggle with

As you remind her to eat when she’s stuck overworking herself, she ensures you eat, too

She allows you to stay in her office throughout the day and in your breaks at work, where it’s quiet and private, giving you a break from the maidens working about the place

A meal is always prepared for you, and she often makes an effort to pause her work during the times you visit her to talk

Usually she tells you of her work and listens to you talk about your day

Having such a time with Bela is a huge motivator to keep working every day. This time also offers you great relief

At times, she uses this time to try and set goals for the day to help you battle your depression

She never asks for much, only a few things to help you go to bed feeling like you’ve accomplished something

Occasionally, these things are to try and pursue one of your (past-) hobbies

With Bela as your girlfriend, many things that would normally trigger your social anxiety are handled by her

She’s of a high status and, as such, has certain benefits. Benefits she’s willing to exploit to make life a little easier for you

Such as allowing you to somewhat choose what work you’d like to do in what areas

She allows you to retreat to more secluded sections of the castle, letting you work entirely on your own on difficult days, as to reduce your anxiety and discomfort

During that time you can manage yourself- or follow the schedule, depending on what comes easier to you- entirely

You can finish up faster if you complete your work fast, or take your time

She’s not one to rush you, and with the rush of the maidens and other staff members always about, this gives you a comfortable break when needed

Seeing as there is no one around to walk in or share the workspace with, you can hum a tune, listen to one, can work in a dimly lit room or fully lit, can be loud or quiet, don’t have to converse with anybody at all unless you wish so

It’s freedom, as much as one can off of, at work, and it helps more than you could ever thank her for

Her study, of course, is always open to you, too

Occasionally, you’ll be around her sisters if she has to work longer

And while Cassandra and Daniela at times challenge you with their boldness, they occasionally return some energy to you, too

Bela, in all of this, is like a weighed blanket

She’s your comfort no matter what, your love, and your happiness

She takes excellent care of you and very early on figures out little cues based on your body language to determine how you feel

Whenever you get overwhelmed around people or feel your social battery and energy drain, she comes up with polite ways of leaving with you

She never makes a scene, always acts very subtly in public as to help reduce your anxiety. Even as she, as a Dimitrescu, is bound to have some heads turn to her

And still, you never feel uncomfortable around her

If anything, she will always ease things for you

She’s confident, but doesn’t come across as bold

She’s intelligent, but never makes you feel as though you’re less so

She’s utterly caring for you and while she pushes you gently, she does so only to help you, ultimately

Cassandra

She isn’t entirely up to date with…well, most things that don’t directly concern her

As such, when you tell her of your diagnosis, she’s pretty clueless

She knows depression, knows the term, but knows very little of the other two

She’ll probably think she can cure your depression by cheering you up, though

Perhaps even by dragging some still-twitching prey into your room

A…sweet gift, certainly, but she soon realizes that there’s more to it

As it comes to your anxiety and adhd…she hardly understands these, but tries to be supportive nonetheless

She cares about you, after all, and therefore attempts to educate herself a little on what those terms actually mean

She tries to make life more comfortable around you, first

For example, she’ll attempt to help ease your social anxiety by reminding you that about every single maid you see in the castle is disposable and can be killed by her at pretty much any moment

She figures; you feel discomfort or embarrassment, she will just kill away the problem

No one has to know, she figures, and she doesn’t mind. She kills all the time, after all

And yes, this certainly does help in rare cases

What she also does, though, and what helps you so very much, is to allow you to pull away from situations

You don’t feel ready to do something? She would never force you

Cassandra is always in your corner, has always got your side

She isn’t one for being rational, anyway, being one to live in the moment more than anything

She cares little about responsibility regarding others, aside from her family, that is

You want to take a break from work, therefore? Or not work at all until you feel more ready?

She doesn’t mind. Boring anyway, she feels

She does so dearly miss you when you’re at work right when she wants to play, after all

You want to change your work environment?

She cares little for the work at the castle, but she will personally see to it that things get done to help you get what you want

Cassandra is not shy

Alas, when you feel uncomfortable or anxious, she has no trouble at all- and even offers- to stay right by your side the entire time

She doesn’t care whether she’s been invited or not, doesn’t care how it might seem when she joins you each time

You need her, you want her there. She will forever be there, then

Sure, she might cause a bit of a mess at times when she gets hungry, but she’s there for you

Whatever you need to get done, you know: you always have the option of asking her to join you

And with her by your side, she’s always there to assure you, but also talk for you

Which, sometimes, isn’t quite for the best, you suppose

She’s rather bold, and cares little for being sensitive to the staff

As such, she phrases things very…directly

Still, it helps you

When she’s with you, most either avoid looking at the two of you altogether or only glance at her occasionally, a look of fear and curiosity in their eyes

And, of course, she noticed instantly if you feel uncomfortable by just that

A single snarl of hers is enough to make those advert their eyes, too

And while she generally tends to leave an impression, just because she can, she actively works on making things easier for you

She’s a little quieter, intimidating people away, rather than for fun

She stops pulling attention towards the two of you, at least until the point you feel more comfortable and allow her to do so

Being no stranger to a bit of a seasonal depression in winter, Cassandra has some idea of what you might be feeling

She can’t ever fully understand, but she doesn’t need to. She’s there for you, and doesn’t claim she understands what she knows she cannot

Still, she takes care of you

She brings you things you might enjoy, makes you get out of bed, if only to play or hunt with her, if only that means you sit and hold her weapons or prey for her

You know, it’s just an excuse to get dirty, really, to help motivate you to shower

When you do, she will always ensure you have a warm meal waiting for you once you’re done

Daniela

She's very understanding

She doesn't fully understand, even as she attempts to, but she's there for you

She tries to cheer you up always, but doesn't mind quiet times, either

When you need her to, Daniela will always keep the conversation going for the two of you, rambling about this and that or only humming a little when you feel like enjoying some silence

She'll hold you tight every day, encourage you to get out of bed, if only for a little bit

Often, she'll make you shower then, even offer to join you, eat, and take a walk through the gardens

She probably isn't the best to help with your adhd, but she's supportive and would never judge you for it, either. She doesn't mind, really, showing some of the symptoms herself, whether she notices this or not

She'll occaisonally get distracted walking through the gardens with you, finding flowers she likes and insisting she must braid them into a crown for you

And really; you can't help but feel even slightly better

Sometimes, the emptiness hits you hard, and you feel like nothing nothing at all

She doesn't force you to move, then, but curls up with you, her flies buzzing quietly, her arms and legs around you

She'll stroke your back and hair, whispering gentle praises you know by now she fully means. She's so loving towards you, so caring

She can't always understand how you feel, but she will always try to battle the demons in your head to make you feel better

Unlike you, she feels no social anxiety at all, in pretty much any given situation

She knows what she wants, and she basks in the attention she receives from others, whether they're friends or strangers

As such, being with her in public can be a little intimidating at times

Or when she walks about, greeting people neither of you really know but chatting as though they were friends

It's a little intimidating and admirable at the same time

Thankfully, she never expects you to take part in those conversations, not unless you want to. She will, however, introduce you as her girlfriend before expertedly changing the topic of the conversation again to give you time to adjust

Much like Cassandra, Daniela is the type to always be with you, to always stick by your side, no matter what

She often joins you when you're forced to take part in social events at the castle

She'll hold your hand and, while she likes the attention, she will always stand in a quiet corner with you

You're more important to her than anything and anyone else, except maybe her family, who she loves at least equally, after all

She'll stay with you, occaisonally make little remarks about the setting or giggle to herself

When someone approaches you, she's quick to take over the conversation in a way that doesn't come across as pushy. For someone toying with, torturing, and eating humans, she's surprisingly good with people, you find

She's always looking out for you like this, always waits for your squeeze of her hand as a signal made up by the two of you that you'd like to say something, now

Of course, there's many signals like that

That way, she'll also easily excuse the two of you in a somewhat bold, but polite fashion

You are, and will always be, her priority