#i was diagnosed back in the days when it was called being the r word and it was shameful and you weren't allowed to talk abt it

[glitterslag]

Loudmouth undiagnosed tiktok ADHDs boil my blood sorry

[lesbianpepsi]

my love, my life

pairing: jenna ortega x autistic!fem!reader

summary: Jenna was the rock you never knew you needed in your life

link to request

words: 4.007k (im sorry)

warnings: verbally abusive parents, ableism, ableist remarks, r parents are dicks, r has a meltdown, swearing, bad writing

authors note: if i got anything wrong please correct me in a respectful and kind way please, other than that i hope you enjoy this:)

You were the one who begged your parents to allow you to start acting at such a young age, being utterly fixated on the world of acting after seeing Spider-Man for the first time.

In the beginning your parents didn't like the idea of you becoming a child actor, especially after what they heard from a myriad of news sources of how troubled child actors became when they reached their teens.

But after a lot of pleading they reluctantly allowed you to audition for anything that came up. 

You were the young age of six when you got your first real role, it was for a random soup company commercial, it was nothing major but it was something. 

Acting brought you a large sense of comfort, already knowing what was going to happen as you memorised your lines in a blink of an eye. 

You always had a struggle with portraying emotions but eventually you got the hang of it and became much better.

At eight years old you got your first big break; the role of a little sister's killer. The role of Jill Roberts' little sister in Scream Four. 

You blew up. 

At first you weren't a fan of all the attention and even got quite upset over it, the large change of attention by strangers on the street scaring you. 

Your parents on the other hand were absolutely thrilled and began auditioning you for many other movies and tv shows. 

You weren't properly diagnosed with autism till the age of fourteen; long after you had become a child actor. You were shocked but found comfort in that information, it was as if you finally found out the answer to longing question. 

Your parents on the other hand did not believe the doctors when they diagnosed you with autism, refusing to believe the fact and that you were just simply dramatic. 

As your fame grew, your stress and anxiety only did too. It got to the point where you could barely get through an interview before going completely non-verbal for a few days. 

Your parents called you dramatic since you could act in front of cameras but couldn't answer simple questions in front of a few people with flashing cameras.

You defended yourself that it wasn't the same, it never was. You didn't know what was going to happen in those interviews, while you knew everything when acting. 

As the years passed you became even quieter and couldn't attend almost any interview or premier. You stopped auditioning for movies and shows when you were sixteen, deciding to take a two year break of acting. 

Your parents were enraged by that fact and barely interacted with you, leaving you alone in one small house as they bought another large one for themselves with your money. 

You didn't care, as long as you were alone you were happy.

A few days after your eighteenth birthday you received a call, asking if you were willing to come back to play an old role.

Maxine "Max" Roberts, the younger sister of Jill Roberts. 

In the beginning you were reluctant but after a few days of thinking you accepted the role. 

Without a doubt, that was the best decision of your entire life, career wise aside. 

In the set of Scream Five you reconnected with old friends such as Neve Campbell, Courtney Cox and even David Arquette officially as grown adult and no longer a child.

You also managed to make long life friends such as Mikey Madison, Mason Gooding, Dylan Minnette, Jack Quaid and you even meet your favourite youtuber James A. Janisse who made a small cameo in the movie. 

But the person you met on the Scream Five set that changed your life was the actress who played Tara Carpenter; the first Scream character to survive an opening kill. 

Jenna Ortega. 

You and Jenna instantly connected, a feeling you had never felt in your entire lifetime. Jenna understood you better than your own parents, even treating you better than them. 

Before Scream Five was even wrapped you and Jenna began dating; both of you absolutely head over heels for each other.

Jenna helped you tremendously throughout the process after Scream Five was released, helping you in interviews if you got nervous and felt your throat tightening up. Helping you in any premier by always holding your hand if you wanted to squeeze hers if you got too angsty.

She did so much more than your parents ever did. It wasn't a wonder why you hadn't had a proper conversation with them since you were sixteen. 

You were fine with that fact; you didn't need them anymore. You had Jenna. 

—————

"So, I was thinking of some mac 'n cheese for dinner?" Jenna suggested once the credits of 'The Amazing Spider-Man' began playing throughout yours and Jenna's small living room. 

You grinned happily at her as you tapped your finger along with the music that played with the credits. "Well if you're offering of course."

Jenna scrunched her nose adorably as she smiled at you, leaning closer to give you a quick peck on the forehead as she stood up. "I'm presuming you watch the end credit scene?" She asked you as she leaned against the doorway of the kitchen.

You nodded your head as your eyes remained fixated on the screen. "You presume correctly, my love."

"As always, my life." Jenna replied, finishing off your nickname with a small laugh as she entered the kitchen. 

It was a silly joke that started when Jenna found out your all time favourite band was Abba. She had made it her life goal to memorise each of your favourite songs; one of those songs being 'My love, My life'.

You smiled to yourself as you unconsciously played with the bottom of the graphic Spiderman shirt Jenna gave you for your birthday months ago. The material of the shirt was your favourite and didn't irritate you like many other fabrics did. 

After a few minutes passed the end credit scene began playing as the smell of mac 'n cheese started to infiltrate your nose, your smile softened. 

Mumbling the lines along with the characters you were interrupted when three knocks were at the door.

You ignored the fact it was an awkward number as you headed towards the door, confused as to who it could be. 

Maybe it was one of Jenna's siblings you guessed, but as you unlocked the door your jaw dropped as you saw who was standing behind the door with crooked smiles.

"Mother? Father?" You asked bewildered as you stared at them with wide eyes, you hadn't seen them in years. 

Your mother smiled sweetly, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she took a step closer to you with open arms, to which you took a step back at. 

"Y/n, honey, it's been so long." Your mother cooed as she lowered her arms, a small look of hurt in her eyes at your rejection at touch. 

"Four years. It's been four years." You confirm with a deadpan look as you looked at them, they still looked pretty much the same since you last saw them. "Why're you two here?" You asked them rather bluntly, your eyes narrowing questioningly on your father who didn't have the sweet smile your mother had on her face. 

"Is it so wrong for parents to come visit their only daughter? We've missed you so much after all these years." She said as she wrapped an arm around your fathers bicep, leaning into him. Your fathers jaw clenched momentarily as he nodded his head stiffly. "We've missed you so much, rabbit." Your father mumbled out in a gruff tone of voice.

A smile grazed your lips at the nickname your father used to call you when growing up, there was no backstory to it, it was a simple name he had called you for years.

At the nostalgic name you couldn't help to lower your guard as you gave them a genuine smile, to which your parents actually smiled back at you. 

"Y/n?" Jenna's voice broke you off your trance as you snapped your head to the side, Jenna rounding the corner with her hair now in a messy bun.   

Before you could get a word out you heard your mother gasp as she freed your father from her grip, a look of admiration in her eyes as she looked at your girlfriend.

"And you're our Y/n's girlfriend, we've heard so much about you. It's nice to finally meet you." She interrupted, extending her hand out to shake Jenna's.

Jenna glanced at you with a questioning look, you shrugged your shoulders weakly at her look. She sighed as her movie star smile appeared on her face, turning back to face your mother.

"Likewise." She says as she connects her hand with your mothers.

As your mother chatted Jenna's ears off you turned your attention back to your father who was still standing awkwardly in the doorway. 

Your father must've felt eyes on him as he slowly flickered his eyes away from your mothers figure to your eyes, his eyes still as cold as you remembered.

He coughed dryly as he took a singular step towards you, a tight lipped smile on her face as he looked down at you. 

"It's nice to see you again, peanut." He whispered to you, your heart melted at his words. Has your father actually changed? It sure sounded like it. 

"It's nice to see you too, father." You replied back with a whisper, a small smile toyed on your lips. He grinned as he nodded curtly at you before he focused back on your mother.

"Is it alright if we stayed for dinner? It's just we haven't seen our Y/n in such a long time." You heard your mother plead to Jenna, her voice bordering into desperation. 

Jenna's beautiful brown eyes flickered over to you, silently asking you if you were okay with you, you nodded your head. 

She let out a small breath as she nodded her own head, returning to meet your mothers eyes.

"Of course, I hope you don't mind mac 'n cheese." Jenna joked as she took a few steps back, your mother following hot on her trail.

You and your father follow them as you close the front door. Your father turned to look at you as he walked over to the dining table. "You're still obsessed with that?" He asked with what sounded like curiosity to you, meanwhile Jenna's head had snapped back to where you and your father stood at his tone of words which did not sound like it was full of curiosity.

You nodded your head oblivious as you pulled out a chair for him. "Yes I do, it's been my comfort meal for years. I'm surprised you even remembered that." 

He scoffed as he glanced back at you, sitting down in the seat. "I wish I didn't." He grumbled under his breath, thankfully you didn't hear his words as you headed over to the kitchen where your mother and Jenna were at.

Jenna was slowly stirring the pot full of mac 'n cheese as your mother chatted her ear off, a look of fake interest on Jenna's face.

"Do you need help with anything, Jen?" You asked her, interrupting your mother as you moved to stand next to her. She smiled softly at you as she nodded her head. "Could you get the cutlery and bowls out for me please?" You nodded your head as you immediately went to do what she asked for.

Thankfully, your mother left the kitchen as she went to sit down next to your father, whispering to him as their eyes glanced over the apartment.

You grabbed four bowls off of the top shelf with ease as you heard Jenna's hushed voice. 

"Hey," She began, you turned to look at her as you neatly placed the bowls on the counter. "you sure you're okay with them being here?" She finished off in a whisper as she gazed into your eyes. 

You nodded your head as you glanced back at your parents whispering to each other, smiling before you turned to look back at your girlfriend. 

"I'm okay with them being here, really unexpected which annoys me but I haven't seen them in so long." Your tone became even more hushed as you leaned closer to Jenna. "Dad even remembered my nickname and the food I like, that must mean something, right?" 

Jenna sighed as she nodded her head weakly, smiling as weakly as she placed a comforting hand on top of yours. "Okay, if you want them here then they can stay. But the moment you feel like you don't want them here just tell me okay?" 

You nod your head understanding. "Okay, I will, thank you." Jenna gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before she turned back to her pot of mac 'n cheese. 

After a few minutes passed you, Jenna and your parents were seated at your dining table as you all ate your food.

You were sitting in your favourite seat as Jenna sat next to you, your father across from you as your mother sat across from Jenna.

You were eagerly eating your food with a smile on your face, a sense of warmth and comfort hitting you as you ate your food.

"This is really good, Jen, thank you." Jenna's smile managed to make you feel even more at peace. 

"So, Y/n, you got any new movies or shows coming up?" Your mother asked you with intrigue as she slowly ate her food. 

You shook your head as you took another spoonful. "No but I was in the latest Spider-Man movie. It was so cool! I thought I would never be given a chance to be in a Spider-Man movie but I was offered a small role. I even got to design my own Spider-Man character and how she was and -oh my god I even-"

"Lower your voice, Y/n." Your father snapped as he played with his food. "We're not in another room, we're right next to you."

You frowned as you stopped talking immediately, looking down at your half empty bowl embarrassed. "Sorry, father." You said in a voice that you made sure it was quieter than before. 

"And what, baby?" Jenna asked with an encouraging smile on her face, her eyes focused on you and only you. 

You picked up your head as you smiled sheepishly at her. "And I got to meet Daniel Kaluuya who's one of my favourite actors." 

Your father sighed dramatically as he shook his head as he pushed his food around the bowl, he hadn't taken a singular bite of the food.

"How much longer do we have to stay here?" He whispered to your mother in a tone what he thought was low enough, but you and Jenna heard him clearly.

Your eyebrows furrowed together as you loosened your grip on your spoon. "Oh, do you have somewhere else to be?" You asked him sincerely.

He scoffed as he shook his head in disbelief. "Your attitude is still as horrible as I see." 

What? 

"I don't understand. I was asking you a question. How was that giving you attitude?" You asked him again, straightening your posture as you desperately searched for Jenna's hand from under the table.

She quickly interlocked your fingers together, her thumb expertly rubbing softly at your skin in an attempt to soothe you.

Your father dismissed you as he turned to look at his wife, a look of annoyance clear on his face. "Ask her. I'm not staying here much longer with that here." He demanded in a hushed whisper.

A deep frown slowly appeared on your face as you stared between your parents, an uneasy feeling started to grow in your stomach.

"What's he talking about, mother?" She sighed at your words, dropping her spoon into the bowl as she leaned against her hands.

"We need to ask a favour from you, honey." Your throat felt tighter as you swallowed dryly, your grip on Jenna's hand tightened.

"What favour?" You asked her, your eyes flickered back to your father who wasn't even looking at you. Your heart clenched uncomfortably in your chest at the sight.

"Well your father and I have been going through some things lately, and it hasn't been fun. It's been especially hard on your dad." The older woman sighed as she closed her eyes momentarily before she reopened them, her eyes teary as she looked into your eyes. "As your parents, we only ask you one favour, Y/n. We raised you and no parent wants to come grovelling to their own flesh and blood for help."

You stayed silent as you listened to her words, your anxiety was starting to increase at a speed that you hadn't felt in years.

"We need to borrow some money." She finally confessed with a pleading gleam in her eyes. "It's the only thing we've ever asked of you, my sweet child. Please, for your mom and dad." 

You should've known they hadn't changed, you should've known. 

As you stared into your parents eyes you swallowed dryly as you slowly opened your mouth.

"No." You whispered out.

"No?" He repeated in a mocking tone. "No? Are you serious? After all we've done for you?"

Your frown deepened as you averted his piercing gaze, looking down in your lap as you unconsciously started to rub your feet against each other.

"We could've given your spastic ass up for adoption but we didn't. And this is how you repay us? What a wonderful fucking daughter we have." 

You shook your head weakly as your movement with your feet started to become more erratic. 

"Get out of our house, right now." Jenna said coldly, trying to keep her temper under control as she didn't want to yell like your father was doing.

A sniffle was heard from your mother as she wiped the tears from her eyes with a tissue. "My own daughter is betraying her only parents." She mumbled to herself.

It was if your heart was in your throat, the feeling as if it was tightening making you shake your head more violently.

"You see what you're doing, you freak, making your own mother cry." Your father pushed as he stood up, banging his fist against the table loudly. 

You flinched at the noise as you shut your eyes tightly, letting go of Jenna's hand as you wrapped your arms around yourself.  

Jenna stood up as you let go of her hand, glaring heavily at your father. "I'm going to ask you again, leave our home and never return or I'll call the cops." She spat out slowly, her voice full of venom. 

"You know what, Miss America, we'll do exactly that. Who would even want that as a child?" He laughed as if it was a joke as he held his wife's sobbing hand. "You're not my child, Y/n. Nobody would even want a reta-"

"Don't you fucking dare finish that sentence." Jenna interrupted the man's words, fury in her eyes as she rounded the table. "You should be ashamed of yourselves, you two are a joke. Get out of our house right now." 

Your father scoffed as he helped pull up his wife from her chair, tightening his hand in hers. 

You weren't looking at them as you kept shaking your head, your eyes shut tightly as you mumbled incoherent words to yourself. The tightening in your throat becoming unbearable.

You heard your father and Jenna argue lowly but you couldn't hear anything they said as your fathers previous words plagued your thoughts loudly.

A wave of unshed tears were piling up behind your shut eyes as you slid off the wooden chair to sit down against the wall, shaking uncontrollably as you shook your head violently. 

Maybe he was right, maybe you were just an unloveable creature.

Behind closed eyes you could notice the room darken, with a shaky gasp you opened your eyes, a flood of tears escaping immediately.

Through the thick tears you could see Jenna crouched down a few feet in front of you, the room itself was darkened as the main light was switched off. The only light remaining in the room was the corner lamp.

"Y/n, can I hold you?" Jenna's disoriented voice asked you, you opened your mouth to say something but nothing came out.

Your fathers cruel words voiced themselves in your mind at your body's rejection of speaking. A sob racked through your body as you desperately nodded your head. Instantaneously the moment you nodded your head Jenna moved to wrap her arms around you, allowing you to lean all your weight into her.

Silent sobs erupted from your body as you clung to Jenna for dear life, hiding your face in the crook of her neck as your arms were wrapped around her tightly. 

"It's okay, it's just you and me, nobody else." She cooed into your ear as she gently rocked you back and forth. You could feel one of her hands rubbing affectionately against your back as she shushed you.

You don't know how long you stayed like that for; In Jenna's protective hold as she rocked you back and forth as you sobbed. 

Eventually as your breathing calmed down and your sobs dying down, Jenna slowed down her rocking but she kept rubbing at your back with her soft palm. 

"You feel a bit better?" She whispered into the dark room, not wanting to startle you with a loud voice. 

You nodded your head mutely as you sniffled, your face still hidden in the crook of her neck.

"You know what they said wasn't true, right?" Jenna softly asked as her hand soothed you. You didn't move as you struggled to swallow, knowing if you nodded your head you would be lying. 

Weakly, you shrugged your shoulders at her words, your fathers words still plagued your mind.

"What they said was absolute nonsense, Y/n, you're none of the things they called you." She reassured you, her voice so soft that if someone was in the kitchen they wouldn't have heard her. "I promise you I'll never let anyone say anything like that to you again, because what they said was lies."

You nodded your head as Jenna rocked you carefully, your breathing calming down. 

"I love you, Y/n, never forget that. I love everything about you, everything." Jenna whispered again as she pressed a feather light kiss to the top of your head. "I wouldn't want you any other way, you're perfect just the way you are, and I love you so much." 

Once again you attempted to speak but nothing except a strangled gasp of air came out, you shut your eyes back immediately as embarrassment coursed through your veins.

"Hey, hey, take your time, you don't have to force yourself to talk, okay? Going non-verbal is perfectly okay." Jenna cooed instantly as she rubbed at your back with a stronger force, you relished in the feeling as you nodded your head.

"Do you want me to reheat your dinner so we can watch the second Amazing Spider-Man movie while we eat it?" Jenna offered you in a gentle voice, she had slowed down on the rocking as you calmed down. 

Mutely, you nodded your head with more eagerness than before. Jenna smiled in relief as she nodded her own head. 

"Okay, I'll go reheat it and you can put the movie on for us. How does that sound?" She said, you pulled away from her as you smiled weakly, nodding your head. Jenna's own smile grew as she nodded her head along with you.

You were still weren’t sure whether your fathers words were true or not, but one thing you were positive of was that Jenna was the best girlfriend.

Jenna will always be your rock as she will always be the love of your life.

[kunaigirl]

Long post ahead, but I really want to talk about this...I think? Oh lord here we go, lol. Anyways, confession time!

I struggled with illiteracy and learning to read for a chunk of my life. I've mentioned it (in passing) in this post that I made about my experiences with having epilepsy, but I decided to make an whole post just for this for a change.

Somewhere around when I was in the second grade, I lost my ability to read and write due to a bad seizure I had. (That combined with the medications I was given too.) A lot of my memories are blank from that era, except for a very few instances I remember clearly. What I do remember though, has nothing to do with the seizure or even what lead up to it, all of that's still gone to this day.

I had lost my ability to read, and also was diagnosed with dyslexia during the quest to re-learn from scratch. (On top of already being diagnosed with ADHD when I was about 6.) I remember very vividly how HORRIBLE everything felt. I couldn't remember the names of things, and I had to re-learn, from preschool up, both reading and writing from scratch.

Somewhat luckily, I didn't lose anything else besides those chunks of memories and my ability to read, and I still remembered who I was, what cartoons I liked, my favorite music, etc. But suddenly, I couldn't read the CD titles anymore. I couldn't read the VHS covers. It was gone, ripped away from me very suddenly, and I knew it was missing. I knew that I already learned how to read and write, but it was forced out of me by a malfunctioning brain. I was home schooled because of it from grades 3rd-5th. (2003-2005)

In the third grade, I had made just enough progress to get books for 5 year olds. Everyone around me acted so proud, but all I could do was cry. I was humiliated. I felt so incredibly stupid, as being illiterate leaves you with no choice but to feel stupid. I threw those baby books around my room and sat on the floor crying. It wasn't fair, I didn't do anything wrong, it was my damn seizures. I had no control.

When I went back to public school for 6th grade, I got called stupid, the r-slur, illiterate, slow, basically every name in the book. Both kids and adults, all throughout those years while I continued to re-learn in real time. In middle school, my reading level was still low for my age, and I had to be in a special program with extra assistance and teacher accommodations. As soon as word got out, the kids were RELENTLESS. It was 06-07, nobody cared about bullying/etc, especially for a public middle school. The bullying never stopped.

I kept working and studying, slowly making progress. Years of struggling, learning to cope, inventing my own short-cuts to help read a little easier, using rulers and paper edges to help guide my eyes, everything. I was still in "special" classes with accommodations all through high school too. My senior year of high school, I graduated on the honor role list. Did that make me happy? It felt nice for sure, but better? Not by much. I knew how hard I still struggled, and still felt very embarrassed by it all. I'll never forget.

As a kid, the pain I felt was so intense. Physically from the seizure, and in every other way with having to re-learn how to spell t-r-e-e. Starting over with pre-K toddler books at 7. Kindergarten level at age 8, and a first grade level as a 9 year old. The feeling of having my memories ripped away just enough to leave me unable to recognize the symbols that decorated everything from posters to TV to book covers. Being told by a room full of doctors and neurologists what had happened, and being quizzed and tested to see what I still had left.

I have never forgotten those long nights. Even though I was a child, the shame and guilt and fear I felt were VERY real and very tense. And the jokes/remarks from both kids AND adults, the notebooks filled with raw squiggly anger, the uphill climb to regain what was taken from me. I will NEVER forget it. Even in college, I struggled with those heavy textbooks and their tiny fonts. I did well enough, but no one else struggled the way I did with them. I did my work and wrote my essays, but it would take full entire days. It still does.

At times, as an adult, I still get stuck on words. I can obviously read and write again, as you can see with this exact post, but it's not over. I struggle with certain fonts, and some books are just to difficult. I still work at it and still try as hard as I can even to this very goddamn day. It never truly ended, all these years later, 20 years later, I still sometimes fight to understand. I feel like an angry and humiliated kid again in those moments, but I'm not that kid or teen anymore. I lived thought it somehow.

I had a dream back when I was 17, where I'm standing in from of my 9 year old self and that pile of baby books. She's crying and looking at me, desperately. I walk over and hug her, proudly telling her "We read The Great Gatsby in high school, and we understand it."

To anyone who has struggled with illiteracy at non-toddler-points in their lives, I see you. To anyone who's struggled with reading comprehension, I see you. To anyone who struggled with writing, I see you. We don't talk about it enough, and I want to change that. I don't want to hide that side of my life experience anymore. Fuck shame, we climbed out of it.

And to this day, a copy of "The Great Gatsby" is still on my shelf. Because I read it in high school, and 9 year old me would've thought that was the coolest achievement ever.

[davenweenie]

All the Rats are neurodivergent because I said so. Here as some headcanons that might as well be canon

ND Rats for the win

Leo and Chase are both so autistic, they bond over their nerdy little hyperfixations and it drives Mr Davenport up the walls from the constant chattering of the two

Bree has ADHD that went under the radar for years, it isn’t until they all start going to school and she starts complaining about struggling to focus when Chase tells her that she definitely has ADHD.

Chase has literally diagnosed all the rats with things, he’s the smartest person alive so of course he’ll be able to diagnose people with things. I believe me and Aster came up with this hc but I’m not entirely certain who it was now.

Adam is the classic example of male ADHD, it was caught at a very early age. Davenport always uses it to excuse Adam’s behaviours towards Chase. Adam is always confused about that though because ‘no, I actually meant to punch him, it wasn’t an accident’

Leo is actually AuDHD (unofficial term for a person who is both autistic and has ADHD) which means he never stops running his mouth. Chase grows to appreciate the silences being filled in the lab for once.

Bree never stops moving, often times she’s super speeding whatever stim she’s doing at that time. As a kid she would super jump over and over again until she was physically stopped because the dust she was kicking up would make Chase get itchy and sneezy.

Chase doesn’t stim openly because Mr Davenport once told him he looked like an idiot. (He didn’t actually say idiot, the word actually begins with an R and it’s a slur I refuse to say even though I’m autistic)

Adam really struggles at school, Chase used to make fun of him until he realised that Adam was genuinely really struggling badly. He not tries to help him study and do his homework, sometimes he actually just does his homework if Adam is having a bad day.

Bree is constantly bullied for being the ‘weird’ girl, she tries to fit in by copying outfits she sees in magazines. Adam picks up on it, miraculously, and tells her that she looks really boring now.

Adam matches outfits with Bree to make her feel less self conscious. It helps a lot and Adam actually really likes matching outfits with his sister. Bree really enjoys it too. BRING BACK OUR WONDERFUL WEIRD GIRL BREE. I hate LREF for changing her entire weird girl personality.

Chase genuinely just can’t dress himself. His outfits always clash and he just can’t figure out how to pair things together. Tasha takes him shopping and matched all his outfits for him which helps him get an idea of what matches and what doesn’t. He really loves his new mum. (I cannot say ‘mom’ it genuinely pains me)

Leo introduces Chase to the concept of safe foods when Chase freaked out over the texture of some food in his lunch at school. Chase has so many non-perishable snacks in his locker for days that he’s struggling.

Leo also has so many snacks in his locker, Adam and Bree are always stealing food from both of them.

Chase had a huge meltdown at school when he got overstimulated by all the noise. They had been on a mission the night prior that involved a lot of loud noises from an explosion and school the next day just completely threw him over the edge. His siblings found him huddled in the corner of a janitors closet and that’s when they decided to force Mr Davenport to make Chase some bionic noise cancelling headphones.

Leo is the only person allowed into their capsules, he typically only goes in them if he’s feeling overstimulated because they’re soundproof and noise cancelling. He prefers Chase’s one over Adam and Bree’s because it doesn’t have a strong smell to it. Bree’s one always smells of perfume and Adam’s smells like sweaty teen boy mixed with Lynx body spray. (I recently found out that Lynx is called Axe in the US)

Chase loves physical affection which often gives him imposter syndrome because it makes him think he’s faking being autistic. It isn’t until Leo tells him that he’s the same way that Chase understands how diverse autism is. Of course he knows it’s a spectrum but sometimes he just gets all up in his head about it.

The Rats aren’t really friends with other people. They hang out with each other and don’t stray too far away. They got even more uncomfortable having other friends after the Marcus incident.

Marcus was the first person that didn’t call them weird after their first interaction. Chase was so upset when Marcus betrayed them because he thought someone finally wanted to be his friend. Plus the fact that Marcus nearly killed his brother.

Chase is easily manipulated because he’s autistic. He finds it hard to read people and know if they have ulterior motives.

Adam is very open about having ADHD, Bree mentions it in passing sometimes whereas Chase isn’t very open about being autistic. He was bullied heavily in high school for it and he isn’t prepared for the media to bully him too. At least at school he could escape it when he came home, he doesn’t think he could cope if it was all online 24/7.

Kaz is so excited to find out Chase is autistic, he then very excitedly tells Chase that Oliver is autistic too. Chase is enamoured at how someone is so happy that another person is autistic. It makes him feel really good about himself.

Chase and Kaz get on better than Bree would have expected considering Kaz has ADHD and is very loud. Chase appreciates having someone that understands his sensory issues because Kaz does get it. Kaz will be quiet if he notices Chase is having a hard time dealing with his super senses that day.

The reason Chase loves hanging out in all the labs is because they’re all underground and quiet. Of course there are still some noises that normal people wouldn’t hear but it’s much less than the ones above ground.

This has been very fun to write. Lmk if you want more and of course you can send in ideas or headcanons to discuss.

[eats-the-stars]

Did this with ADD/ADHD, too. My sister struggled getting someone to take her combination OCD + ADHD diagnosis seriously as an adult because ADHD is "over-diagnosed" and they mainly just slap it on energetic or difficult kids like a bandaid and she was an adult, so they just diagnosed her with "general anxiety disorder" for years and called it a day. But now she's finally got the correct diagnoses and the meds and has shown marked improvement. Since, you know, she actually does have OCD and ADHD and needed these meds for years.

She never thought to look into OCD at all until recently, either, because the popular depictions didn't really match her issues and people usually say "Haha I'm kind of OCD" to mean "I don't like germs" or "I'm a stickler for organization" and don't touch on the intrusive thoughts or compulsive behaviors that aren't geared towards cleanliness.

Meanwhile I'm autistic. Like, classic no-eye-contact, don't touch me, toe-walking, only wears certain fabrics, had to get surgery as a kid because I decided to stop going to the bathroom and got so backed up it killed half a kidney, reading Lord of the Rings in 2nd grade, getting called the "R" word constantly kind of autistic. And I have to deal with even my close family saying they might be a "little autistic" too because they, like, aren't fond of loud music and crowds, flubbed a social interaction recently, and are really passionate about their interests.

And I have to sit here like "Yeah, I don't think so." Like, I do think my dad is probably autistic. And my 4yo nephew. But that's literally it. And neither of them is pulling this shit on me. My sister I kind of get because she is OCD/ADHD and spent a long time knowing she had issues but not having a definitive diagnosis. So her saying "maybe I'm autistic" was less "Haha, maybe I'm such a picky eater because I'm actually autistic" and more "I am sifting through every label trying to find the right one because my life is falling apart and I need help in the form of meds/therapy but it needs to be for the correct thing or it won't work."

But she also keeps theorizing that other people might be autistic when I know they're not. Sorry but your boyfriend is just super bad at reading a room, that doesn't make him autistic. I know you wish there was a concrete medical reason for why he flips out when someone, like, moves his weird nut milk to a different spot in the fridge and doesn't want you...eating in bed? But those are actually really low-ball normal things for people to get annoyed about.

I think the underlying problem is the need to pathologize every behavior and trace it back to a source condition. When sometimes people just do shit because we all have free will and emotions and habits and issues that develop without stemming from any kind of disorder or condition. The average neurotypical person is still, quite often, going to be a bit of a weirdo. But being a clean freak, or a picky eater, or a bookworm, or an introvert, or having a short temper don't mean you MUST have a condition.

the way people online talk about autism is getting really weird, like do they know that neurotypicals still have interests? that someone being passionate about a hobby doesn't mean they're autistic? you guys know that right

[youarestellarverse]

[image description: a purple banner that has the words “work in progress” on it. end of description]

I think maybe I need another sideblog for this, lol. It's turning into a monster.

Epistolary/fake reddit post take 3: Ruby/"Pearl", in her own words.

Originally posted here by u/princess_and_the_pearl on r/relationshipgoals:

Princess And The Sweatpants

(or, Prince Charming Magically Transforms a Sick Day into a Spa Retreat)

Bear with me. Brain fog is a hell of a drug. 

I (26NB) was diagnosed with fibromyalgia two years ago after about six months of symptoms, which was astonishingly fast for anyone and downright miraculous considering that at the time, I still thought I was a cis man, and I presented very much that way. There are people who don't believe that's even possible. Several doctors have questioned my diagnosis, asking suspiciously isn't that only in women? 

Strangely, when I'm wearing a dress, they don't do that. 

Anyway, I have fibromyalgia, which means I constantly feel like I did that time in high school after I played a football game while actively suffering from acute appendicitis (it burst within forty seconds of me getting on the field, because duh, and I almost died— thanks, Dad, for making me play when I had a fever of 104 and I was telling you I felt like someone was spearing me through the back— but that's another story.) 

Feverish, sore everywhere, sick to my stomach, like my skin is bruised. The worst part is the fatigue. I get so tired during flares that I can sleep 14 hours a day and wake up exhausted. The only other time I've felt like this was when I was sixteen and fighting off sepsis. 

I bring up football mostly because I look like a football player. I was a heavyweight before I got my diagnosis (though I've dropped a lot; my MIL keeps "just happening to be in the neighborhood"— two hours away, mind— with baked goods and stuff). I'm close enough to 6'6 to round up to it if I wanted. I have been told I have the rugged, thoughtful face of a stern, ancient Roman politician. I wear shoes so big that half the time they don't even make them in men's sizes. 

And most of the time, that's fine! I'm okay with it when, as my (genuinely) Dear Husband/Prince Charming (27M) puts it, my "gend-o-meter" is pointed towards guy, which is still more often than not. 

But it gets to me otherwise, which Charming knows. He also has this very eerie ability to tell where that meter is pointed without asking me. He says it's something about my posture, but he's not sure exactly what. All I know is he's never wrong, and he always knows the best time to pop his head around the corner, smile his sweet smile, say "Hey, babe, guess what?" and then burst into a corny pop song. 

[Relevant comment from PC himself:

girl you got my heart racing in your skin-tight jeans~ 🥰��😚💙💙]

Last week (midsummer for posterity), I was having a hell of a time with a rash of thunderstorms. Everything hurt so badly I could barely think straight. It was like every injury I'd ever had was fresh again, and being a football player, I've gotten banged up a lot. I had five migraines over the span of eight days. I lost a scary amount of weight because I could barely keep anything down. 

Eventually my BFFs (we'll call them BFFa, 26F, and, BFF1, 25M, because I don't want to rank them against each other) came out and stayed over the weekend. They made an enormous batch of corn chowder, which was so good it overrode my nausea and lack of appetite and was all I could manage for about 3 days straight. (It's really excellent chowder.)

I'm glad they were here, because I've never had gender dysphoria come on in the middle of a flare before, and I freaked Charming out pretty good when I got halfway through my food and suddenly had enough energy to burst into tears. BFFa is very calming and good at talking people through things, and she helped me articulate while making sure my husband didn't panic. BFF1 isn't as comfortable with emotional displays, but he makes a damn good rice pudding and it's really hard to stay upset when the house smells so nice. 

DH, anxiety managed, was able to throw himself into planning mode. He started by calling our mastiff (5F) and having her lay with me while he drew a bath (she's allowed on the bed after a specific command; she was already trained as a service dog when we inherited her, which was incredibly lucky for me because I realized I needed one about a month later). 

He's helped me take care of myself before. I quit football because of an injury that destroyed my mobility, and for about three months I was completely reliant on him for almost everything. He helped me stand up to pee. I can't ever pay him back for what he's done for me, but he says the same thing, so we must be even in his mind. 

He's always been sweet about it, but he really went all out this time: he lit dozens of beeswax candles,  put rose oil and floated petals in the bathwater, set up the shower stall with my chair and a rose-vanilla shower bomb, and hooked up my iPod to the bathroom speakers so he could shuffle through my playlist of all the love songs he's ever sung me. 

Then he got me out of my depressed college student chic (the aforementioned sweatpants and my alma mater's t-shirt), helped me into a silk robe that didn't hurt my skin, and supported my weight as we walked. 

He got me settled in the shower chair, then stripped and joined me. I didn't have to lift a finger, which was good, because I couldn't without my shoulder seizing up. (He took care of that, too. He's the only person willing to massage me hard enough that I can actually feel it. Everyone else gets too worried about hurting me. Ha.) 

After I was clean, he brought out a razor. That man shaved my legs for me, and I have a lot of leg, so that's no small feat. 

I'm honestly not sure if I was crying. I think I must have been, because he kept kissing my knees and ankles every time he finished a pass. He sang along with the playlist, too. When you smile, the whole world stops and stares for a while. I got sunshine on a cloudy day. I don't know why you're being shy. I think you're pretty without any makeup on. 

...yeah, in retrospect, I was definitely crying. 

I felt so much better it didn't matter. He washed my hair, then helped me into the bath and knelt beside the tub and rubbed my neck while I soaked and let the water support my joints. 

Let me tell you: if you've got a partner suffering from chronic pain, this is one of the best ways you can make them feel pampered and loved. 100/10; do recommend.

And that wasn't even the end of it. 

While we were in the bathroom, BFFa was going through my wardrobe. Charming helped me back into the robe, and when I got back to our room she'd changed out the sheets and set out my softest, most comfortable cotton maxi dress. 

It's very pretty. I made it out of fabric my husband's best man (28M) whipped up for me with fiber from his partner's cashmere goats. He used blue potato peels for dye, which gives it a beautiful muted color that transitions from blue to pink via clever use of anthocyanin reactions.

He also dyed some cashmere yarn to match it, which I found out when my baby SIL (minor) gave me a gorgeous crocheted shawl for Christmas last year. It was laid out beside the dress, which was perfect, because one of my symptoms is that I can't regulate my body temperature very well; having it available to take off and put on as-needed was great.

It felt wonderful on my skin. They got me settled in bed again, our dog in her own bed on the floor (still tall enough for me to scratch her ears 💜). Then they facetimed Prince Charming's gf (29F, she's also married to my drag mother), and she walked him through putting on my makeup and styling my hair into a pixie. 

I honestly never thought it possible that I could feel cute and pretty with short hair. That's part of why I was upset. When my head hurts like that, wearing a wig is asking to end up in the hospital with an intractable migraine, and my face is so angular that without long hair to soften it, the image can be really jarring. 

(That was how I figured out I was nonbinary, actually. I was rehearsing a drag routine and I just felt Wrong and I couldn't figure out why, until my girlfriend (26F) suggested I try practicing in my wig and I saw myself in the mirror and suddenly it clicked.) 

Somehow, he pulled it off. It might partly have been the flower hair clip that BFF1 made me with a soldering iron and some copper wire. Most of it was my face. I had no idea DH knew how to contour, but I looked...soft. Feminine. I felt like a queen. 

Not that he's ever failed to make me feel like one before, but this time, he really outdid himself. I looked how I felt. That's not an easy feat for me in this context. He pulled it off flawlessly. 

It was also just fun, and after such high pain levels I needed fun almost more than I needed validation. 

NOTES: good fucking lord tumblr what have you done with your post editor it took me literally almost half an hour to get it all indented why is there a "character limit" on indentations now

BFF1 and BFFa are of course Piper and Leo, Prince Charming is Percy, Percy's girlfriend is Silena (married to Charlie ofc), Ruby's girlfriend is Annabeth, Percy's best man is Grover; if you read the other posts in this genre, you possibly get the idea. I know, I know, it's getting convoluted.

PING LIST: @perseusjackson-jasongrace @elaborateruses @starlightshadowsworld (lmk if you want me to stop pinging you in Ruby stuff, I'm sort of assuming lol.)

As always, let me know if you want in on (or off of) the ping list!

[just-vibingfr]

Ok ok I want 23 13, and i forgot the number but it said like I’m sorry I’m such a burden so yea with jj maybank im a sucker for angst

Same! Like mood 25/8 is angst, angst, angst!

WARNINGS: Mentions of rape, suicide, self harm, close friends and family thinking you are a liar, ANGST ANGST ANGST, cursing, reader will be using They/Them pronouns.

A/N: I went really angst in this one, this will be all angst with no fluff, at all, like none. Please do not read if anything mentioned will trigger you. This is going to be one of the last OBX fics for a few weeks, I’m going to finish the other four requests I have then I will be writing some Harry Potter Marauders Era stuff! Thank you all for being so patient! I love you guys ❤️ 💕 Bold will be flashbacks!

ABDUCTED

Prompts- 13:God I wish that you had thought this through before I went and fell in love with you. 23:I was kidnapped, I was r@ped! 49: I-I-I’m sorry I’m such a burden

JJ POV:

Thirteen weeks. Thirteen fucking weeks. That’s how long it’s been since they went missing. God, all I can think about is our last conversation.

“I slept with her okay?! I cheated on you and I don’t regret it. At all. You have been nothing but a pain in my ass trying to fix me. Setting me in a path to what, redemption?! Well guess what it’s never gonna fucking happen because I’m a no good, dirty, pogue! My whole family has been doomed to live here, always poor, always a bunch of dead beat losers! I cant be fixed, this is my destiny, so go fuck yourself and you pathetic hopes and dreams and morals! Because none of us liked you anyways, we were only using you to help us grieve after we lost John B. He’s back now, so we don’t fucking need you okay?! I don’t need you! I never have and I never will!”, I ranted. I’m angry at my dad, angry at myself for cheating, angry at Rafe for getting away with everything, angry at Ward for being a bastard, angry at Y/N for making me fall in love with them. I am just so angry. I didn’t mean to take it out on them, but they were there. They’ve always been there even when I treated them like shit. That’s the problem, they were there. I don’t know what to do, I’m so used to pointless hook ups, empty relationships, and abusive behavior, that when someone puts me in a freaking pedestal like I’m actually worth something I flip. I have been looking down for the past five minutes. All I know is their muffled sobs, how their eyes are probably red rimmed and bloodshot, how they’re probably pulling on their wrists like they do when they’re stressed. If I look up I might just crack. “God I wish that you had thought this the before I went and fell in love with you!”, they screamed, letting out all of their emotions. “You said I was different, you said you saw a future together! You told me you fucking loves me! You fucking piece of shit! I hope you get everything you want in the sickest sense! I hope you remember me and feel nothing but pain and guilt! I’m done with you Maybank!”,Those words cut deeper than any blade or bullet could. Being told those venomous words by the person I love most in the world hurts, but I deserve it. I hurt them more than anything, I broke them.

But, now I see truth in their words. Every time I think of them all I can feel is pain, guilt, and remorse. It was all my fault.

Y/N POV

I stumbled through woods. Safety. That’s all I can think. Safety. Safety. I kept stumbling around going anywhere, anywhere as long as it’s away from fucking Jules. That’s what they would call my kidnapper and rapist, Jules. He earned that name because he would take a piece of jewelry off of every virgin he raped. Pathetic. My lower half ached, my mind fuzzy, my wrists scarred. Thirteen weeks, that’s how long I’ve been missing. Thirteen weeks or rape and abuse. Twelve weeks of self harm. I started slitting vanes on my ankles, and the back of my knees, to feel something. Something other than the pain he caused. Self inflicted pain was a way out, a way to still have freedom and independence. Sick and twisted, I know, but it was my way of rebellion. I started to break down crying in the middle of, woods?! It these woods are familiar and I can hear the sound of the ocean. Outer Banks… Outer Banks! Thank God! I’m home. I’m safer, I’m back. I kept stumbling around, my tears making it harder to see. Up ahead I saw what looked like porch lights. “Help! Help!”, I yelled out, although the dryness of my throat mad it extremely difficult.I sped up, basically running to reach a sense of haven. Once I arrived at the house I realized where I was. The Chateau. Anywhere but here. But I needed help, and I was lucky I even found my way here. I knocked on the door, actually I pounded on the door. I was desperate. I heard shuffling and then the door opened revealing a very disheveled Pope, Kiara, Sarah, John B, and JJ.

“Y/N?! How-What-! Just- just come in!” Pope said frantically .

“What happened?!”, Kiara and Sarah said in unison. The boys nodding their heads in agreement to the question.

“I-erm- I was kidnapped, I was raped. I was held in a where house with the other girls. This bitch named Jules was the one in charge. He would take turn with the girls. It was terrifying. I thought he was going to kill me once he saw me helping one of the girls with her miscarriage. I had already had three or four myself and a few of the girls actually gave birth in that where house. The youngest to have a baby was eleven. Eleven fucking years old. I just ran out of the door one day, I got shot. It’s been a few days, maybe five or six? All I know is that I had to burn the wound to stop the bleeding. And I feel really sick right now. I think I’m going to vomit.”, I said before passing out.

I woke up in a hospital bed. The lights burning my eyes. The sheets clean. Someone had bathed me and changed my clothes. I felt clean, it felt good. Everyone scrambled to get up at my sudden consciousness. Looking at me with that pity in their eyes. That pitiful look that made me regret telling them. I didn’t want their fucking pity, I just wanted them to know I have new boundaries, and as my friends they deserved to know. The doctor came rushing in, asking me to explain what happened. I explained everything, the trauma bringing ugly sobs. I didn’t care. I had just been through hell and back, I was allowed to shed some god damn tears.

I was discharged later that day when they had diagnosed me with PTSD, anxiety, ADHD, and self harm. Yay. Weeks went by with my friends checking up on me, never leaving my side: I loved them all for it, but I could see the look of boredom in their eyes, the look that said as soon as I was good enough to be on my own they would leave me to my own devices. It hurt, everything did. I didn’t deserve to put them through this, watching me fall apart. I didn’t deserve this. I needed to end the pain. I had to. And I needed to do it now. I pulled out a piece of paper and a pen, went to the nearest flat surface and began writing.

“ I’m sorry I’m such a burden. But thank you for taking care of me. Thank you for supporting me. I didn’t really get to know you before John B and Sarah, I see that I really missed out on some good people. Kie, you have been nothing but amazing to me. I can’t thank you enough. Pope, you are like a workers mix of older brother, younger brother, and dad. It always amazes me how you can be protective as fuck, need protecting, and are always prepared with that mind of yours. JJ, I’m sorry. Sorry that we ended things on such terrible terms. You deserve the world and I couldn’t give that to you, I truly apologize for holding you back. But you did break me that night, I was going to end it then, but I was abducted. Ironic how I’m ending it now. I love you all and wish you the best! “

Love, Y/N ❤️

I folded the letter and set it on the island with the pen. Then I crawled into the tub, slit my wrists, and let the darkness take over, sweet, safe, darkness.

@hannahnikohl

[vizthedatum]

Story time:

We were in the car. I was driving. My ex/spouse was in the passenger seat. And two of our close friends were in the back!!

We were going to the mall to use my ex’s employee discount for a bunch of new clothes. I was so excited and so were my friends.

I was chatting with one of my friends - she’s a photographer, and I’d been discussing her taking professional photos of me for when I’d start looking for work PLUS some fun photos with different outfits. She’s incredibly talented. And we had been discussing for a while.

I had the word swimming around in my head already - I think my brother may have been self-deprecating… or was it my friend?

And I absolutely hated myself.

I told her that I was really really self-conscious, and I hoped (close to verbatim but I was kinda long-winded) that she could make sure I didn’t look so [insert r-slur here] in the photos.

My ex/spouse snapped so hard at me.

They told me not to use that word.

And I felt horrible for the rest of the day - my friends went quiet, and I felt like a monster.

Didn’t I know that word was a slur? (Of course I did)

…

I’m not diagnosed with autism in the medical system yet, but I have been called this slur countless times growing up. In between bouts of masking and appearing “high functioning” (I hate this term).

It has always been obvious to me that I was not following the same patterns as others - so I would emulate patterns I saw that seemed to trend.

After all, I ended up being a statistician and epidemiologist… who pattern matches and struggles to find new insight (even though I strive for understanding every single day) due to people discounting the way I think.

I have reclaimed “queer” and “slut” and many variations of derogatory words that people have used to negatively connote as my identity.

So when I called myself that slur, I felt… maybe I should have been approached with compassion instead of severity and coldness. (When I talked to my bro later about my slip-up, he (someone who was “visibly” neurodivergent at the time (whatever visible means in this messed up society)) was way more compassionate… and didn’t blame me at all)

Not only do I have developmental trauma and physical disabilities… it is becoming clear to me over the past couple of years, that I’m autistic.

And my self-diagnosis is valid. (Heck, I self-diagnosed my IC in 2012 despite having symptoms since 1998 which helped me get my official diagnosis in 2014… healthcare is fucked y’all)

It’s valid.

And internalized ableism? Yeah it needs to be worked on - it’s not nice of myself to call myself the r-slur… but it is also my right if I can reclaim it. And if I do something or say something wrong, I do not deserve to be treated like that… and then be treated worse when we got home.

I talked to one of my gfs (autistic - both of them are!) about it… and it’s like… she just uses it all the time to describe herself and other nd folks.

And why not? Why not reclaim a word that has been negatively promoted and then used as a slur against us?

It is actually a way that we can get over the internalized ableism!!

Especially in a world, where even if you can align yourself with the level of functioning that makes you look “neurotypical,” you will always be considered an outcast.

“Still, as I have learned through personal experience, reclaiming it can aid in the healing process of neuro-divergent individuals recovering from bullying and internalised self-hatred. Even if we don’t use the word to refer to a collective, we can still pause to consider how (or if) it relates to our own lives.”

Nd culture is being super aware of ableism, being careful not to be ableist to others, and getting upset when you see others suffering from it. But, having internalized ableism, and not having any compassion for yourself.

.

[lazydoodlesandfanfic]

Burdening (Natasha Romanoff X Teen!Fem!Reader) *PARENTAL *TRIGGER WARNING

Characters: Natasha Romanoff X Teen!Fem!Reader

Universe: Marvel, Avengers

TRIGGER WARNINGS: ATTEMPTED SUICIDE, SUICIDAL THOUGHTS

Other Warnings: Death of Parents/ mention of torture, mention of PTSD

Request: Can you do a nat romanoff x teenager!daughter figure!reader (x platonic!avengers) where the r gets kidnapped by some evil organization (and they find her successfully but she’s wounded pretty badly) and it’s taken a toll on r and gets diagnosed with PTSD, depression or some, and thinks that death is the only way out of this, but Nat and the avengers like stop her from doing it? It’s okay if you don’t wanna do it, don’t wanna pressure you in doing things you don’t wanna:)

It had been the tenth night in a row where you’d woken up from one of your night terrors, and the third time that night. You were exhausted, but too scared to go back to sleep, and too upset to call out for help, no matter your distress. You knew Natasha was literally just next door, but at this point you felt bad for her.

Just over two weeks ago you and your parents, one of which being an agent of Shield, had been kidnapped, held against your will, tortured in ways you didn’t want to even go into details about, and only you made it out alive. You slept for first few days, then you were in shock for a while longer. But when the shock weared off and you realised you were alone, and what you had gone through wasn’t some demented dream, the nightmares started. The flashbacks. Harmless acts and words you suddenly associated to things that happened during your captivity. You wanted to be held and comforted, but also you go scared at the mere sight of people walking towards you. The only person you’d let come to you was Natasha, since she was the person who got to you and set you free, immediately pulling you into a hug. 

Apparently Natasha knew your parents quite well- especially the parent that worked with her, so when they died she took responsibility for you. You couldn’t thank her enough. She’d been doing everything for you, basically having to look after a newborn because you couldn’t even bring yourself to get out of bed. She had to bring food to you, hold you when you cried all the time, and she was losing sleep just to get up whenever you had a nightmare. However, since the nightmare started every night, they’d become more graphic and more frequently each night. Natasha was exhausted, and you felt awful. You didn’t know what to do, and by how it was seeming, things were only going to get worse. 

You felt like you were at a dead end. Your only options were to continue, having these nightmares, hardly able to live a normal life for even a moment, having to be a burden to Natasha, even if she assured you that you weren’t, or end it. 

You knew the idea of death should scare you. That meant the end of everything, leaving everything behind, but you didn’t have much to leave behind, and the only thing you were ending was your suffering. The only thing you were worried about was who would find you. You didn’t want to scar Natasha or anyone else, so you’d been spending these nights planning, and you had finally come to a solution. 

Natasha woke up with it still being dark out, and checking her phone beside her she saw it was 4 in the morning, and with that she felt dread. It was usually about 1 am when the first nightmares plagued you, and after seeing the trend the last few nights, she highly doubted you’d managed to sleep. She got up out of bed, and left her room and knocked on the door to yours, before entering. “Hey, sorry if I woke you, just came to…” She stopped when she saw that the bed was empty, the bedsheets pulled back. She turned on the lights to get a better look, and as she turned on the lights she felt the paper near the light. She looked at it, seeing a note. She took it, reading it as her heart stopped. She stepped out your room with the note, rushing to her room and rushing to get dressed as she called Clint and put him on speaker. After a few rings, he picked up. 

“Nat? Why are you calling in the middle of the night?” He grumbled tiredly. 

“Y/N’s gone. She’s left a suicide note. I need you to get everyone up so we can go find her before she does it.” 

“Okay, any ideas of where she’ll be heading to?” 

“A bridge”

You’d been searching for the right spot for a while. You’d reached a few spots, but they were either too busy or not tall enough. However, soon you found the right spot. It was over a river, and the water moved fast from what you could see in the darkness. You looked both ways of the bridge, seeing it bare with no one around, before you gripped the railing and pulled a leg over, and then the other, until your heels were the only part of your foot on the bridge still your arms locked around the railing behind you. You looked down, fear filling you, and you hesitated. All you had to do was let go, unlock your arms and lean forward and that would be it. Then there would be nothing else for you to do. The icy water would definitely make you gasp for air, and quickly you’d drown, and who knows how long it would take for anyone to find your body, and what were the chances that the Avengers would find you? Maybe no one would find you. You shut your eyes, taking a deep breath in, then letting it back out. This was it. Your mind went blank as you loosened your arms and you leant forward. 

Then you felt the jolt of something wrapping under your arms and holding you back, and you felt your back hit the railing again. Your feet were dangling, and you panicked and flailed them until you felt yourself been lifted higher and over the railing, onto the safety of the bridge. You looked around, soon spotting Natasha there, running to you as fast as she could. Looking behind you, you saw Steve had been the one to grab you and pull you over. As you looked around more, you saw Clint also running up, and Tony coming into land in one of his suits. As Natasha reached you, Steve let you go and you were immediately pulled into a hug from her. “Oh thank god!” She gasped as she clung to you. You didn’t hug her back, or really react to anything. You hadn’t even screamed when Steve had grabbed you, or even as Natasha and the others ran at you. 

“She’s in shock, let’s get her home.” Clint, decided. 

The shock only started to wear off when you were back at home with Natasha. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Steve was asking Nat at the front door, after everyone else had gone home. 

“Yeah, I know her, she’ll not do well being surrounded by everyone. I’ll get her to see her psychiatrist tomorrow morning first thing, but right now… I think she just needs to know she’s loved and that I’m here by my own will.” Natasha told him, though you heard everything. 

“Okay. See you tomorrow.” Steve bid goodbye before he left. Natasha quietly came back into the living room, coming and pulling a chair up from the dining table and placing it in front of you and sitting on it. You had been staring down at the floor, but as she sat down, you looked up at her.

“I’m sorry.” You apologised to her, everything hitting you in that moment and you found yourself choking on tears, and Natasha got up, coming and sitting beside you and hugging you tightly as you cried. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t want to be a burden anymore.” 

“You’re not a burden, Y/N. I decided you were my responsibility, I decided I’d be there for you, I decided I’d support you, and I’m not going back on that. We will get through this, I promise. Tomorrow we’ll go see your doctor, we’ll see if we can get you some medications to help with the nightmares, we’ll look into more intense therapy… we’re gonna be okay, okay? Not you, we. We are gonna be okay.” She assured you with too much confidence for you to deny it, and that, finally, made you feel safe. You were gonna be okay.

Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in! 

*Not my gif

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[silkybullets]

“Death Call”

Midland Hotel, 1925, sitting alone at a table the evening before Christmas, Tommy's icy eyes met with a face he never had ever thought of seeing again, not whilst being alive at least. Which lead us back to Birmingham, 1914, after he volunteered in Small Heath rifles, he spent his last couple of months home holding your hand in the hospital, watching your colours fade as dying of an unknown disease.

Warnings: English is my second language.

Words: around 2k

Tommy just ordered a drink, adding to that a whore, a brand new one in honor of Christmas when he initially went to light his cigarette. His eyes drifted to a table further away where a woman was already sitting down. He did recognize her, remembering the sweet touch of an old lover. His stiffened body didn’t receive the orders to continue moving sent by his brain, his mind too occupied playing memories of before the war. Before it all begins, or all ends, depending which side you’re looking.

One the other side of the room, you were searching the pockets of your woolen coat. When you finally found your cigarette case, you got one out, sliding it in between your soft lips. After pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, you hassled lightening up your cig and welcomed the poison in your lungs as if it was the purest thing. 

The waiter came closer to you, putting down your rhum, which you drank in one go and ordered another one. It’s been a couple months you didn’t drink and, after this first shot you don’t remember why. When doctors failed to diagnose you and closed your file with a lung disease you were young and never tasted the flavor of the liquid poison. But at the cliff of death, God granted you the wish to live.

Too bad that’s when your memories of endless & lonely drinking nights happened. 

Coming from a christian family, it was no question for them you had been chosen by God to do something great in this world. Pushing their luck they sent you to an orphanage run by nuns to pay your debts to God. When their initial idea was to keep you pure for as long as you were to be alive, you chose a different path for yourself, bounged down into alcohol, drugs and whatever came with it.

Saying you were a non-believer would be too much, but the idea of being some kind of “chosen one” was nonsense to you, that just meant death was right under your nose or waiting for you at the corner of the street. What happened next was logical consequence, your depraved self was sent back home after the nuns numerous warnings were ignored. You did not change, and decided not to. 

When being saved or witnessing a miracle helps people get their life in order, it had the reverse effect on you and you had yet to get your shit together.

When they recommended you to drastically change your ways for the sake of your family if not for you, you gave in. You had siblings, and knowing how hard your family could be on them at times, you didn’t want to leave them alone. But your good will ended tonight.

You looked at the filled glass in front of you for what seemed like an eternity,  weighting the pros and cons of getting drunk tonight and all the other after that one. You being dead or alive it’ll be okay for your family, you assured yourself to avoid feeling guilty for choosing not to fight. 

Ten minutes and three empty cups later, you were ordering another one. The waiter was intently looking at you, concerned, while you were ignoring his pout.

“You sure you want rhum, ma’m, Can I bring you something else, gin perhaps?” He was as smooth as one could, but the implicit meaning behind his words irritated you the most.

“Do I look like I’m sad, eh? Tell me ‘cause I don’t look at meself in mirrors these days.” You begin, agitating your fingers that were holding another cigarette. 

“Gin’s for sad women, whiskey for big boys crying, rhum for people like me: We are not sad enough for trying to drown our pain in gin, not hopeless alcoholics enough to to get drunk with something as tasteless as whisky. We simply enjoy a slow death with a sweet and spicy flavor. Please bring me the whole bottle this time.”

Without realizing it, you offered the man the warmest smile he had seen tonight and he gave one back even if still quite taken aback by your confusing revelation.

Tommy had seen enough, he got up throwing a bill near his drink and cleared his throat for lack of clearing his head. He walked to the table, the woman he once knew was seated, his voice already reaching her ears before their eyes would meet.

“Is this seat taken?” He motioned to the second chair around the table. Finishing another glass she invited him to sit down with a move of hand. Her cigarette in between her lips, she poured some rhum into her glass and ultimately lifted her eyes to his face.

“Are you sick of the hotel whore, Thomas? Am not one if this is your question.” She blinked as puffing on her cig. 

“Merry Christmas to you too, Y/N” He coughed. “See you haven’t changed a bit.”

“Nor did you.”

Lies, it was all lies, if it wasn’t her eyes he hadn’t recognized her. The woman he was in love with was long gone and so was the boy who loved her.

“So OBE it is, now?” She looked up to him.

He stayed in her eyes before daring to speak, and break the eye contact.

“You were always used to call me Tommy, we can stick to that.”

She didn’t respond nor look at him, keeping for herself any emotions his words had unleashed into her, if they did.

“What happened to you?” He spoke in a more vibrant ton. An attempt to ease the heavy atmosphere.

“War happened to us, Tom.” 

His eyes snapped open on her.

“What France did to you, remaining alive did to me.” She offered him a fair smile, looking straight at him with the same piercing gleam hiding behind her iris than when they were younger. 

“We all came back alive. John, Arthur, Freddie... Although they are now some missing pieces.”

“Yeah, fucking pieces spilled everywhere. It’s looking like the puzzles we used to play when we were younger, huh? Does that ring any bell?” She giggles.

It was hard for him to read her, he didn’t know what he felt either. 

He stayed at the hospital three months straight holding her hand as her colors were fading. He remembers vividly how difficult it was for her to breath, speak, even keeping her eyes open was a huge sacrifice. But she’d never compromised to keep them shut as he told her to, his face gave him the strength of an army, as she used to say. And that had him laugh, even though now he doesn’t remember the last time something as close as a laugh came out his throat.

“Don’t get fucking lost in memories, Thomas. Just ask for it.” 

She poured some liquor into her glass and slowly slid it to Tommy as if anticipating him telling her he didn’t want it.

He watched her moves with amusement, it was odd to him to find her here, but even more peculiar was the fact it seems like she knew him still. Like those ten years that separated them weren’t there, like there wasn’t a day they didn’t think about the other fondly. Her gaze didn’t leave his, and he knew exactly where her mind was because his own was at the same place. She was getting all the information she could to try to match his now tired face with the one she had been picturing in her head all those years.

“Okay then.” he nodded. “ Where have you been?” 

A smile appeared at the corner of his lips, they were playing a game he couldn’t only play with her, she was the one girl before France, everyone got their advantages.

“Fucking dying of being alive after I got strunk by some miracle.” She raised a brow as if to voice the displeasure of missing the boat.

“I thought you were dead.”

“I wish I was, Tommy.”

He let out a long sigh. Once again he failed at keeping a light atmosphere. It was to be said she wasn’t any help.

That’s when he realized no matter how it felt like they were still the same teenagers, back in 1914 before everybody got fucked up, no matter how hard the memories were hitting him this exact same instant with their first kiss, their first touch and the first time they exchanged their desire to live a life together, they were not the same. Nothing was.

She was only a mere shadow of herself, and he? He couldn’t even look at her in the eyes for more than five minutes, too afraid it would dig out things that must be kept where they were nowhere to be found for his own sake.

Every little thing about before France hurt him. Even the happy throwbacks, especially the happy throwbacks. Knowing he would never feel those feelings again, never get silly about the breeze meeting with his skin or the rising of the sun at the top of a hill killed him most. That’s why he didn’t want to ask more about what happened to her. But at the same time, the questions came naturally to him, as if he waited all along to throw them out, taking off his chest a weight he never realized to initially be there.

“Have you done better after I left?”

“I did. For a time. Some years, in fact, even though my parents sent me to a nunnery to thank God for his mercy.”

He snorted at her words.

“Why doesn’t it surprise me? They were always about keeping you saint, even asked me to fucking give up on taking you running in the fields to watch the night sky until sun rised, they never thought it could be the other way around, you leading me.”

She laughed at this thought.

“Don’t you dare say this as if you disliked me being the lead, Tommy Shelby.” She sneered.

“No, I indeed liked it.” He shook his head without hesitation.

“If only they knew what we did, in those nights.” They both spoke, their voice overlapping along with their minds.

“Tommy you got to follow me, or else we’ll be too late.”

“Let me catch a breath, we got all the time to come up the hill some other nights.”

“Don’t be silly, it’s tonight the fireballs are going to be running in the sky!”

“You aware it’s not called “fireball” and that they are not ‘running’ in the sky?”

The girl stuck her tongue out, turning to him, her eyes mechanically squinted at the move. She did not realize he was right behind her and faked all along still behind at the feet of the hill to annoy her. His body strongly collided with her, making her stagger but Tommy’s arms locked her waist firmly, avoiding her body from meeting the ground, and his lips dropped on her mouth in a second, she couldn’t even close her eyes during the kiss.

“Stop it!” Her suave voice worded as one of her hands went hitting his chest, even if her deepest desire was for him not to let go of her lips.

“I’m thinking about that one night we first fucked. Bodies wet both by sweat and dew“ She muttered.

He was sitting but naked on the grass, his fingers intertwined in her hair that was falling at her back as holding her tightly. She was the type of flowers you thought were beautiful but couldn’t help but rip off the ground, dooming them to die in your hands. 

Her legs were strongly wrapped around his hips, she was carefully grounding down on him, making sure every of her moves were slow to make the pleasure last. She turned loose the grip of her arms around his neck and leaned backward so he’d hit her from another angle, this one allowing him to reach the bottom.

Her screams filled his ears and soon enough his mouth as she straightened back up, seeking his eyes, wanting to connect even more. The darkness he ignited in her eyes that night never left, always leading him to always want her, even in the most inappropriate places.

“I was thinking about that time at the local church.” He admitted.

“Every-fucking-body heard the screams--” She proudly stated.

“The priest was more than disturb” He added. “But they never found out who that was.” 

“Well, we know.” She handed him her cigarette. He gladly took it and smoked as much as he could, clouding his lungs as well as his mind.

She giggled some more, shaking her head both sides, she couldn’t believe they did such a thing, but knowing as mad they were when together, it was all figured out.

“It came back, Tommy.”

“What did?” He gained his serious tone back, eyes locking with hers.

“The disease, they say it’s even more violent this time, but I know it just never left. It has been lurking in the dark to come back when I’ll be happy again. But seeing I figured out its plan, it decided it was time to finish me off.” She sang. Her voice was devoid of any sadness, and he noticed it. “I think it’s a curse, Tommy. Run in our blood. Me grandma’ had that too, it passed a generation, leaving my mother and little sister alone. But I fear for the others.”

Old reflexes leading the way, Tommy’s hand fondled hers in the most natural way. He leaned forward to her as she took off his lips her cigarette, filling her lungs with that poison in hope it would kill the one that resided in her since way too long.

[adhd-adept]

I have self diagnosed adhd and i was wondering if you could provide some advice regarding reading. I used to be able to just pick up a book and read when i was younger, but now that I'm older it's a bit difficult to just pick up a book and read for the sake of reading. I love reading, but i just can't seem to motivate myself to.

Any advice? I'd really love to get back into reading, but I'm trying to find a way to do it easier

Hello! I’m sorry this took me so long to answer, I’ve been mostly off Tumblr for a little while. I saw this some time ago at 3AM and thought “this deserves a more coherent response than I can give right now” and then forgot that this blog existed for several days.

That said, I absolutely have some advice for reading! I was a big reader as a kid, too, and I’ve recently had to re-discover reading after a long gap in any time spent sitting down with an honest-to-goodness book. There are a number of things you might consider!

DISTRACTIONS

First and foremost, recognize the reason it is difficult to read! For me, it is because reading isn’t the most interesting thing available. That doesn’t mean I don’t love reading! If I can manage to sit down and read a book, it is immensely satisfying - but it’s the satisfaction of the effort you put into something paying off. My favorite hobbies - drawing, writing, reading - are my favorite because of that sense of accomplishment that they give me. 

I love the feeling of holding a book and watching my bookmark move through the pages each time I set it down. However, it doesn’t give me the same instant gratification of reading wikipedia, or tvtropes, or scrolling Tumblr, or checking notifications on social media; even when I am unsatisfied, or even frustrated, with the internet, it can be very hard to put down. I know that people will tell you all the time “You need to put your phone down more!!” It gets old. But they have a point. What people don’t tell you is how to do that. 

For me, that tends to be about making it inconvenient for myself to get online, or do whatever is distracting me. This doesn’t necessarily mean making it completely unavailable. The distraction just needs to be less available than the task I want to do. I am the kind of person who gets online out of muscle memory, and then gets stuck there. Thus, many of my tricks rely on disrupting the muscle memory that lets you pick up distractions. I will put my laptop charger in another room, so that my screen time is limited to its battery life. I might tie a string around my laptop, or tape it closed, so when I go to open it I will be reminded “Oh yeah, I don’t want to do this right now.” I will occasionally rearrange the apps on my phone, so when I try to open Instagram and end up with the weather app instead, the thought of “wait, how did i get here” will snap me out of the thoughtless habits that led me to pick up my phone in the first place. I’ve even gone so far as to tape my phone to the ceiling. Whatever works.

If the weather permits, I might also walk a little ways down the block and find somewhere to sit and read. This can come with its own distractions, but it gets me away from my laptop, and I get a tiny bit more exercise and sunshine than I would have otherwise! This depends, of course, on whether you have transportation and whether you feel safe. But getting yourself out of the house can be a great way to get away from the things that would otherwise draw you away from reading. If you have a local cafe or library that permits you to sit and stay, those are also great options! I will bring my phone when I leave the house, but I might put it at the bottom of my bag, or put a bit of scotch tape over the power button, so that I have my phone in case of emergency but it’s just slightly inconvenient to get to without thinking about it.

It may not be the internet distracting you. But whatever the distraction is, it doesn’t need to be less compelling than reading. It just needs to be less readily available than your book is!

ENTHUSIASM

Another thing that prevents me from reading is that it often doesn’t have the same sense of urgency that other tasks might, whether that urgency is real or not. Give yourself a time limit! I may own books I haven’t read yet, but I will get to a book sooner if I have borrowed it from the library, because I know there is a deadline to return it! 

You can also get other people involved. If you have a friend who wants to read the same book, commit to a chapter or two a week and then call to discuss it. 

Or, if you have a friend who would be interested, and you are comfortable with your reading voice, you could read to someone! It might feel weird to offer, but you’d be surprised how many people really do enjoy being read to. If you both have time in your schedules, you could try to set up a regular call to get through a few chapters at a time. 

Generally, having a friend who likes the book is great for maintaining enthusiasm, even if they’re not reading it with you - I get to books faster if someone with similar taste says “This is one of my favorites! You would love it!” If you have a friend who has read the book you plan on reading, announce to them that you intend on reading it. Their enthusiasm might help you feel more compelled to read it, and there’s a good chance that if you don’t sit down and read it, they will remind you by asking “Have you read it yet? What do you think?” the next time you talk to them.

PREPARATION

Another great way to make reading easier is to set up a reading space beforehand. It’s one thing to pick up a book and say “I’ve been meaning to read this.” It’s another thing to put on some pajama pants, make a cup of tea, and curl a soft blanket around your shoulders before you settle down to read. For one thing, it’s just nice. But more importantly, it can function as a signal that tells your brain “it is Reading Time now. We are in the Reading Zone.”

Do you ever watch a TV show or listen to a podcast, and you let the theme song play on the first episode, and then skip it for the rest? Even if I’ve watched a show before, I will play the theme song on the first episode I watch that day. It’s the same principle - it serves as a transition, an intro that says “this is where I am now, and this is what I’m doing.” Give yourself an intro for reading! Have a certain spot that you like to sit when you read. Have a certain snack you eat beforehand.

I have all kinds of tasks with little “rituals” before them that help me focus on that task, or certain items that I interact with which I associate with it. I call them “declarations of intent,” and once I’ve made a declaration it’s easier to commit to it. Sometimes that means simply saying out loud, “I am going to do the laundry now.” Sometimes it means I wear a certain shirt if I’m planning to go for a walk that day, or drink from a certain mug at breakfast if I want to get some homework done. I have a specific hat that I put on when I want to write a certain character. Try to find something you can do to act as a cue that says “When I do this, then I will read a book.” Because of this, it can help to really lean into whatever the “aesthetic” of reading is, in your mind. Embrace a reading atmosphere!

It may also help to recognize that reading is something you can work your way up to! There is no shame in being out of practice with a hobby. I took my reading proficiency for granted for a long time because it was just a part of my life. It may help to think of reading as a skill! Start with something smaller and work your way up. Pick up a book of short stories or folktales before you tackle that six-book series you’ve heard good things about! Set achievable goals for yourself when you’re setting out. An early success can make a huge difference to morale, and it’s much better to start “too easy” and accomplish something than to jump in at the deep end and be frustrated by an early setback.

FORGIVENESS

On the topic of working your way up to things, I would like to say a word about mindset. It is easy to feel self-critical about things. Things that you think should come more easily to you. Things that you feel like you have no reason not to be able to do. One of the biggest things I’ve done for my ADHD is recognizing that there is always a reason why I behave a certain way. Accepting that allows me to actually address my struggles, rather than just feeling ashamed of them. I’ve had to accept that I won’t always do things that I set out to do the way I set out to do them.

I bring this up because not all of my advice here may work for you. In fact, some of it doesn’t work for me every time - a technique may work once, but I might fail to make a regular habit of it. I may make a regular habit of something, only to have it become less effective as the novelty of it, or my enthusiasm for it, wears off. I may eventually talk myself out of implementing an effective strategy because there is some part of it that I find unpleasant; or an intentional unpleasantness I once found motivating may eventually become intolerable.

That’s okay. I’m telling you now, it’s okay if that happens. It’s okay if the first method you try doesn’t work. Don’t set yourself up to feel frustrated. If you become frustrated, take a step back. If you borrow a library book and you still haven’t read it by the due date, just give it back. If you don’t actually enjoy the first book you pick up, put it down and try a different one. If you feel badly about not reading something your friend wants you to read, be honest and tell them you have a hard time sitting down, and that you don’t want to disappoint them if they keep asking, but that you will let them know once you have started it!

It can be easy to convince myself that feeling badly about something means it’s important to me, and that maybe if I feel bad about not doing something, it  motivate me to do it. There is a balance between making commitments, and not committing to anything that is just going to distress me. Sometimes there is a benefit to a sense of pressure, but I have to recognize when the pressure I create turns into frustration. That’s a fine line to walk! For all I speak of inconveniencing yourself, or holding yourself accountable, your strategies should ultimately feel satisfying, and show results fairly quickly! You may not see immediate results, but if it has been several days and your strategy isn’t working out, change tactics! And the moment you feel apologetic or ashamed about the thing you are trying to do, drop that strategy. Again, this can be easier said than done, but it is so worthwhile to learn how to allow yourself to “give up” on things that aren’t actually helping you, without feeling like you’re giving up entirely.

You want to get back into reading again because you want to enjoy reading again. If you set it up to feel like homework, or a chore, or an obligation, you may make it more difficult for yourself! Getting back into reading is about focusing on what you love about reading.

And hey, I’m always happy to help! I do only check Tumblr every couple weeks right now, but I’ll do what I can to be supportive. If you’ve tried these suggestions and they don’t work out, no worries! Everyone is different, and it’s no insult to me if things that work for me don’t work for you. But feel free to reach out again, let me know anything you have learned about how you function best in the meantime, and we can reevaluate your strategies!

I hope that helps! Happy reading!

[the-delta-42]

Revealed

Inspired by an ask sent to @lenoreofraven

Revealed

Marinette tried to duck away from the Akuma. Rose had been made aware of Lila’s lies and became an ample target for Hawkmoth. Revealler shot beams of light that forced her target to spill out the complete truth, their deepest secrets that they would not share with anyone.

Marinette bit back a cough, as Lila finished spilling about how she had lied to everyone and how she threatened anyone who got in her way. Revealler turned her gaze on Marinette.

“Marinette!” Exclaimed Revealler, skipping toward the girl, “How does it feel to know your friends discarded you for a Liar?”

Marinette glared up at the Akuma, making Revealler sigh.

“I didn’t want to do this.” Whined Revealler, waving her hand.

A gold light appeared in Marinette’s eyes and Revealler grinned.

“So, how does it feel?” Questioned the Akuma, smiling down at Marinette.

“It hurt,” Said Marinette, her voice monotone, “I’ve known some of them for years and they sided with Lila.”

Alya winced, knowing that she owed Marinette a big apology when this was over.

“But it doesn’t matter.” Said Marinette, making the Akuma tilt her head.

“And why is that?” Asked Revealler, forcing Marinette to answer.

“I’m dying.” Said Marinette, her eyes welling up, “I was diagnosed with Late-Stage Leukaemia a few weeks ago and my chances of survival are slim.”

Revealler scowled, “Y-your lying!”

The light grew brighter, forcing Marinette to speak again, “I was diagnosed with late-stage leukaemia a few weeks ago and my chances of survival are slim.”

Marinette suddenly gagged, before coughing up bile with blood mixed into it. Revealler slowly lowered her hand, tears starting to run down her face.

“No, no, no, no, no!” Screamed Revealler, grabbing her head, “Lila was supposed to be exposed and humiliated for what’s she’s done, you weren’t the one supposed to be punished!”

“I’m not being punished, Rose,” Said Marinette, dropping herself to the floor, “Everyone is given a hand at their birth, some of us have poorer hand than others.”

Revealler curled into a ball and started to rock herself back and forth. Marinette reached over and picked up the akumatized item, a picture of Rose and Prince Ali, and reluctantly tore it in half, releasing the Akuma. Rose grabbed into Marinette’s arm and clung to her, her crying being harder. Marinette idly watched as the Akuma flew off, phasing through the window.

Adrien watched as Rose continued to break down. The day became a blur, and the next thing Adrien knew, he was sitting in front of the piano in his room, mindlessly pressing the keys. He heard his bedroom door open and his father walk in, Nathalie not far behind.

“Adrien, you’ve been playing off key for the past two hours,” Said his father, his tone cold, “If you don’t improve, I may have to cut short the time you spend with your frie-”

“Marinette has cancer.” Adrien interrupted, tears starting to run down his face, “T-there was an Akuma that forced people to tell the truth, a-and when Marinette was hit, she told everyone she had l-leu-leukaemia!”

With the last word, Adrien dissolved into tears, Gabriel stood awkwardly, staring at his sons shaking shoulders.

“Adrien, she could still be in the early stages,” Said Nathalie, walking past Gabriel, “she could still undergo treatment.”

“M-Marinette said she only found out when it was already at a late stage,” Sobbed Adrien, “She keeps saying she’s fine, but it’s like when mother went!”

Gabriel froze, he had never once thought on how his mother’s condition would affect him. The last time he had seen his mother, she was propped up in a bed, skinny and gaunt, too weak to walk. As if she had cancer.

Gabriel then did something he had not done in years, he walked over to Adrien and cradled him. Nathalie quietly left the room, silently cancelling all meetings and appointments for the coming week.

R

Lila tried not to flinch as her mother yelled, after she had spilt everything, she’d been removed from class and placed in a separate classroom so she could catch up her work. Lila had tried to protest, but a stern, angry glare from her mother made her duck her head down and do the work.

Lila had her phone, laptop and tablet confiscated until she’d learned the impact of her actions. Marinette, of all people, suggested that someone help her catch up, as if Lila threatening her was not a big deal.

Max, as he put it, drew the short straw. He helped her work out problems, but his voice was cold, and his tone was sharp. Lila took a deep breath in and looked down at the page, staring at it as tear drops landed on the paper.

R

“There’s got to be something!” Gasped Rose, her eyes wide.

“Rose, you’re a sweet girl, naïve sometimes,” Said Ali, “But, I don’t think we’d be able to find a cure for cancer in a couple of weeks.”

Rose nervously chewed her bottom lip.

“The most I can suggest is that you make sure her last days are comfortable.” Said Ali, as Rose let out a small sniffle.

R

Chloe sat curled up on her bed, curiosity had gotten the better of her and she’d looked up leukaemia and read about the various stages, signs and the survival chances. It was only with hindsight that Chloe noticed all the signs, the fatigue, weight loss, her lack of appetite, how she’d taken to wearing a hat. Chloe then read about how it all typically ended. Chloe never wanted to admit it, but Marinette was a bright spot in the class, to learn she’d be reduced to a mere husk of herself was devastating.

Chloe dreaded when her mother found out.

R

Marinette nervously chewed on her bottom lip as the parents paced around the living room. They seemed to take Marinette spilling her condition well, then they started pacing and hadn’t said anything since.

Her mother suddenly sat next to her and pulled her into her arms and stroking her hair. Marinette relaxed slightly at the sound of her mother’s heartbeat. Before she noticed her mother was shaking. Marinette leaned back and saw her mother holding a clump of hair, Marinette’s hair.

Marinette swallowed the lump forming in her throat and buried her face in her mother’s arms.

R

Adrien’s leg bounced, quietly waiting for his classmates to arrive. Chloe had called him late last night and told him the effects of late-stage leukaemia. Marinette had been wasting away before their eyes and they didn’t notice a thing. He also found that, since it was late stage, Marinette could die any day now. The classroom door opened, admitting half of the class, the other half arrived within a few minutes and now everyone was waiting for Marinette.

Ms. Bustier entered the room, quietly closing the door behind her.

“Marinette’s been admitted to hospital,” Said Ms. Bustier, quietly, “Her parent said you could visit her after school.”

Adrien suddenly had a lump in his throat, not knowing how to process the information.

R

Marinette hated the nurses, they were dismissive, arrogant and so full of their own self-importance. They seemed to have a game they called humiliating the patients, Marinette had to beg them to clean her after she lost control of her bladder and bowels, they’d just laughed, at least until a doctor caught sight of them.

Dr. Bates had her own team take over tending to the cancer ward, Marinette found Dr. Bates to be enjoyable company. Marinette had been in the ward a couple of weeks and every day, around noon, Dr. Bates would read a poem to them from one of the many books in the hospital. Each day, Marinette felt herself getting weaker, two days ago, she’d begged her parents to come up, she didn’t want to be alone when she went.

Marinette felt her mother’s hand on her, the only sound she could hear was her own breathing, it was getting harder to breath. Marinette was going to close her eyes for a minute.

R

Ms. Bustier quietly made her way into the classroom, her eyes were red.

“Marinette’s parents just phoned.” Said Ms. Bustier, before taking a shuddering breath, “Marinette died in hospital yesterday, she was surrounded by her family.”

Adrien could’ve sworn he heard a buzzing noise for the rest of the day, over half the class had gone home at lunch, Alya and Nino included. Alix, Kim, Max, Adrien, Chloe and Lila were the only ones still in lesson. Alix, Adrien and Max had made the promise to take notes so everyone could catch up. Kim and Lila had to catch up their work. No one knew why Chloe opted to stay. Lila had gone quiet over the past few weeks, Adrien thought it was because how Lila’s lies had finally bitten her. Adrien felt Plagg shift in his pocket, making him look down. Adrien’s bag was fuller than he remembered, until a red, spotted kwami poked her head out and looked up at him. Adrien quickly asked to excuse himself to the toilet.

“Tikki!” Said Adrien, as soon as he entered the toilet, “It’s great you’re here, listen, a friend of mine died-”

“Marinette.” Tikki cut him off, “I can’t help her.”

“Why?!” Asked Adrien, desperation seeping into his voice, “I don’t know what happened to Ladybug, you could convince her-”

“I can’t.” Said Tikki, her antennae drooping.

“Why not?” Demanded Adrien, “Ladybug likes Marinette, she has called her a great help multiple times.”

“Because what happened to Marinette… happened to Ladybug.” Whispered Tikki, looking down.

“W-what?” Whimpered Adrien, not liking how the course the conversation had taken.

“Marinette was Ladybug,” Admitted Tikki, shuddering, “and what happened, was because of me.”

Adrien didn’t trust his voice.

“C-cancer is a mutation of the cells in a living being,” Said Tikki, “w-when I first created it, I thought I was helping humans evolve, I-I never thought it’d become something so horrible.”

“S-so there’s nothing we can do?” Asked Adrien, sliding down to the floor.

That’s how Max found Adrien, curled up on the floor and sobbing. Adrien was sent home, where he curled up under the covers of his bed, the Album cover that Marinette signed pressed against his chest. Adrien heard his father enter his room and sit on Adrien’s bed.

“Adrien, are you alright?” Asked Gabriel, gently grabbing Adrien’s shoulder, “Do you want to talk?”

Adrien was silent, before taking a deep breath and pulled Plagg out from his hiding place, his father’s face was unreadable as Adrien explained who and what Plagg was and how he met him. Gabriel stiffened as Adrien told him about how Ladybug and Marinette were the same person and how the Ladybug Miraculous triggered the condition that took her life.

“The two Miraculous can grant any wish, Adrien.” Said Gabriel, making Adrien freeze, “I wanted them initially to bring your mother back, but I think it’s time to let the past go.”

Gabriel looked down at Plagg and Tikki, “Tell me, what would the price be if I asked for the girl back?”

Plagg and Tikki looked at each other, before looking up at Gabriel.

[kiokodoodles]

Incorrect Quotes but it’s for @ivyprism’s University AU

Kidnapper, negotiating with Chief: We have Slick. Give us ten thousand dollars and they will be returned to you unharmed

Slick: Whoa, whoa, wait, you think I’m only worth ten thousand dollars?

Kidnapper:

Slick: MAKE IT ONE MILLION–

Kidnapper: Slick STOP

Kioko: I love you guys, you're the best thing that's happened to me.

Hound: We're the best thing that's ever happened to you?

Kioko: Yes!

Brass: I'm starting to feel a little sorry for you.

Kioko: What are your goals?

Brass: To pet all the dogs.

Kioko: No, fitness goals.

Brass: To be able to run fast enough to pet all the dogs.

Captain, in a meeting: My policy is if you see something, say something.

Kioko: I saw a squirrel in a tree today!

Captain, with the tone of someone who is used to Kioko: Outstanding.

Captain: This is what I’m talking about people.

Brass: This is a mistake

Paps, enthusiastically: A mistake we're going to laugh about one day!

Brass: But not today

Paps, still enthusiastic: Oh, no. Today's going to be a mess

Kioko: I turned out perfectly fine!

Rus: Kioko, this morning you thought a ghost made your toast

Kioko: I DIDN’T PUT THE BREAD IN! YOU DIDN’T PUT THE BREAD IN!!!

Brass: This is such a bad idea.

Stretch: Then why are you coming along?

Brass: One of us need to be able to talk the cops out of arresting us when this inevitably goes wrong.

Slick, pointing: May I sit there?

Kioko: That's my lap

Slick: That doesn't answer my question, angel.

Hound: You love me, right, sweetheart?

Kioko: Normally, I’d say yes without hesitation, but I feel like this is going somewhere and I don’t like it.

Kioko: Lol heads up if you try to make a candle with food coloring, the food coloring will just sink to the bottom of the glass, and when the flame eventually reaches the bottom all the food coloring will catch fire and become one giant tall flame that you cannot possibly blow out and the glass will start to crack and then you'll throw your tea on it in a panic and then the extremely hot food coloring will boil and sizzle horribly and then the glass will shatter. Please take my word on this lmfao

Brass: What did you do Dove?

Kioko: A MISTAKE

Crush: I’m in love with you.

Kioko: We called off the prank war last night at midnight, dork.

Crush: I know.

Kioko: Ah. Okay. Um. Cool. Neat. Very cool. Cool. Cool. Coolcoolcool-

Kioko: Are you ready to commit?

Slick: Like, a crime or a relationship?

Kioko: I truly go into housewife mode when I'm someone's soulmate- like, I'll make you pancakes and bacon every morning.

Crush: This is a lie.

Crush: I'm literally dating them. This is a lie.

Crush: THEY DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO COOK A PANCAKE, WHAT IS THIS.

Serenity: The stars are so beautiful...

Pyre: They're just giant balls of gas.

Serenity: You know what, if you're just going to ruin this, then-

Pyre: And yet none of them are as huge as my love for you.

Serenity: Oh...

Brass: Did you know you remind me of all 26 letters of the alphabet?

Kioko: What? Like J F K W S Q X-

Brass: No, like, U R A Q T.

Kioko: Awwww!

Kioko: I still have no idea how I’m attracted to you...

Chaotic crush: Yeah, well, you’re stuck with me, and no take backs, honey.

Captain: Smart is attractive. Educate me on something I don't know!

Kioko: The mouth of a jellyfish is also an anus.

Captain: Stop.

Hound: I dare you to kiss the next person who walks into this room.

Junior: Screw that, I’m not kissing any of you.

*Blaze walks in*

Junior: Fine, I’ll do it. Rules are rules you know.

Hound: Go ahead, Kioko. Let it out, cry. If you don't, your tear ducts will get blocked up, and then when you get old, you won't be able to cry.

Paps: Just when we thought it was safe to let you back into the conversation.

Hound: Onion rings are vegetable donuts.

Ebony, used to Hound being dumb: Sure...

Hound: Your stomach thinks all potatoes are mashed.

Ebony: Okay?

Hound: Lasagna is spaghetti flavored cake.

Ebony:

Hound: Lobsters are mermaid scorpio-

Ebony: Jesus, that one is a little-

Stretch, interested: No, no, Hound, keep going.

Hound: Someone take me to art museums and make out with me.

Kioko: But they said not to touch the masterpieces.

Hound: Well somebody's got to pin the artwork to the wall.

Pyre, on a walkie talkie: This is Pyre, those idiots are fucking around in the East wing again.

Stretch: Five little monkeys jumping on the bed. One fell off and…

Hound: Was diagnosed with mesothelioma.

Stretch: Mamma called the doctor and the doctor said…

Paps: You might be entitled to financial compensation if he or a loved one dies.

Brass: So how’s the food Kioko made?

Rus: It's great! Compliments to them.

Brass: *goes to the kitchen*

Brass: You're adorable.

Kioko: *blushes*

Hound: Last night I found out Kioko is a sleep talker.

Stretch: Oh, really?

Hound: "The mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell." Right. In. My. Ear. At 3am.

[songtoyou]

Chapter 7: No Such Thing As Good News

Tolerate It

Paring: Modern!Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character

Story Rating: R (No minors should read this fic).

Word Count: 2,373

Warnings: Swearing

Description: Tommy Shelby is the owner and CEO of Shelby Company Limited. Starting out as a Bookmaker, Tommy had big ideas to expand his riches. In the past ten years, the company has grown rapidly to expand its business ventures from bars to producing alcohol, manufacturing motor vehicle parts, and exporting. One of the richest men in Great Britain, Tommy Shelby, has it all. Unfortunately, the death of his wife, Grace, left the multi-millionaire mogul alone and depressed. He needed someone to fulfill his needs and deepest darkest desires.

Chapter Summary: Rose wakes up the morning after the gala and her night with Tommy. She meets Isaiah Jesus, who takes her back home. Tommy wants to know more about Louis. We find out that Alfie continues to be a double-crossing little shit. Our favorite Italian mobster catches wind of Tommy taking away his favorite “toy.”

A/N: This chapter was fun to write and brings a lot of new plot development to the story. 

Italics represent past conversations. 

I do not permit my work to be posted on any other site without my permission.

Tag list: @owenniasstars​ 

The remainder of the night was not a quiet or restful one for Rose. No, Tommy still had needs that he wanted to be met. While the first session was the most intense, the rest after were a tad tamer. Well, as tame as it came when dealing with Tommy Shelby. It was like the man didn’t have the words soft and slow in his vocabulary. Rose noted that when it came to actual sex with Tommy, everything had to be fast and hard. He seemed to take great pleasure in prolonging Rose’s orgasm or retreating just when she was at her peak. It was a long, drawn-out game for Tommy. 

Tommy had Rose on her back, stomach, knees, and on top of him. For a man who was a notorious chain smoker, his stamina was off the charts. He seemed to finally wear himself out by 3 p.m. With Rose on her stomach and head tucked into the pillow, she was quickly falling asleep. She could feel the light caress of Tommy’s hand up-and-down her back. It was as if the gentle act were lulling him to sleep, and soon Rose could hear his soft snores. 

Rose opened her eyes to look at the man sleeping next to her. With the room dark, she could only vaguely make out Tommy’s features. She was able to see a hint of softness to him as he soundly slept. Turning over on her side, Rose pulled up the blankets and fell asleep.

By morning, Rose was awoken by the curtains being drawn back. The blinding sunlight permeated the room. “What the bloody Hell,” Rose groaned and covered her face with the pillow. “It’s too bright.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, miss,” spoke a female voice. “Here, let me close them a little.”

Uncovering her head, Rose looked to see what looked to be a housekeeper in the bedroom. 

“Hi, I’m Rose,” she introduced herself to the older woman who appeared to have a friendly disposition. 

“Hello, I’m Annie. Mr. Shelby’s housekeeper. I apologize for walking in on you. Must have slipped Mr. Shelby’s mind when he left for work this morning.”

“What! He’s gone? What time is it?” Rose asked, looking for a clock.

“It’s ten in the morning, dear. Would you like me to fix you some coffee or tea?” Annie asked sweetly. 

Rose was about to get up but realized she was still naked. She could not believe she overslept or that Tommy left without any sense of ‘goodbye’ or ‘see you later.’

“No, thank you. I…if you don’t mind, need to take a shower. Then I will be on my way.”

Annie nodded her head and left Rose alone in the guest bedroom. With the door shut, Rose tossed the covers off of her and grabbed her to-go bag. She pulled out her toiletries, some underwear, socks, a bra, along with jeans and a t-shirt. She also hauled out her running shoes and tossed them on the floor. 

For a guest bedroom, the bathroom was huge with a standing tub and walk-in shower. If Rose didn’t have somewhere else to be, she would have opted for a bubble bath. Looking at herself in the mirror, Rose traced every bruise, love bite, and red marks that were plastered over her body. 

“He always leaves his mark,” Rose said to herself. She turned on the shower and stepped inside.

The hot water helped ease the soreness Rose was feeling all throughout her body. She lightly washed away any dried fluids that were left on her. Rose more than noticed the soreness between her legs, which would take a while to subside.

When Rose was finished showering, she dried herself and put on her clothes. She did one more look around to make sure she had everything, sent off a quick text to Louis letting him know she was okay and headed downstairs.

Annie warmly greeted her, “I hung up your dress by the door. It is inside the garment cover. I put your shoes in there as well.” 

“Thank you. I appreciate that very much. Uh, when did Mr. Shelby leave this morning?”

“The same time he always does, about six o’clock,” the housekeeper answered. “He told me to let you sleep in, but I was unaware of which room you would be in.”

“Yeah, yeah, look, I have to get going,” said Rose and retrieved the garment bag. She slung her to-go back over her shoulder and walked outside the townhouse.

Before Rose could head down the street towards the Tube, an unknown voice called out to get her attention.

“Ms. Turner,” said the voice.

Rose turned around to see a young black man leaning next to a car. She had seen him around previously outside of her house or place of work. Rose suspected this was one of Tommy’s guys he ordered to look after her. 

“Yes. What do you want?” she asked, not moving.

“Mr. Shelby told me that you would need a ride back home. I’m Isaiah Jesus,” he said, extending his hand out. When he noticed that Rose’s hands were full, he offered to take her garment bag.

“Thank you. I guess you won’t need directions to my house since I have seen you around,” she said, walking to the car. 

Isaiah opened the trunk and put in Rose’s belongings, and ushered to the backseat door, but Rose cut in, saying, “Do you mind if I sit in the front seat?”

“Not a problem, mam,” replied Isaiah with a smile and opened the passenger door for Rose.

The ride back home was quiet except for the sound of music coming from the car stereo. To cut the quietness, Rose decided to speak up. “How long have you worked for Tommy?”

“For a long time,” Isaiah answered.

“How old are you?”

Isaiah laughed, “I’m 21, mam.”

“Okay, you’re sweet, but knock it off with the whole ‘mam’ thing. Call me Rose, okay.”

“As you wish, Rose. My family, well, my father to be exact, has known the Shelby’s a long time. My father’s family immigrated from the Caribbean to England. He met Tommy, Arthur, and John while serving during the War in Afghanistan back in 2006,” Isaiah shared and went on, “It was not the time to be over there, that is for sure. The arrival of the British soldiers in the southern province of Helmand was met with violence from the reviving Taliban. The Afghanis made sure to let our soldiers know that they were not welcomed over there. My dad, his name is Jeremiah, did not come back the same after that, neither did Tommy or his brothers.”

Rose could not believe this young man was telling her all of this, such revealing information. It all started making more sense to her with Tommy’s behavior. He had all of the signs of someone living with post-traumatic stress. And then top it off with his wife, the person he most likely felt comfortable and vulnerable around, diagnosed unexpectedly with cancers, and then dying. No wonder Tommy was the way he was.

“Wait, your dad is Jeremiah Jesus?”

“Yeah,” Isaiah responded, looking over at Rose.

“I have seen him on the news lately. He leads many of the Black Lives Matter demonstrations,” noted Rose.

Isaiah beamed with pride, “That would be him. He’s amazing. Definitely the type of voice and leader we need right now.”

“Yeah, my son has become more socially active at school and around our community. It is a good thing. I want him to be aware of his privileges and use them for good causes,” Rose responded fondly. 

When Isaiah pulled into Rose’s neighborhood, he parked the car in front of her house. Both got out of the car, and Isaiah helped retrieve Rose’s belongings from the trunk. 

“Thank you, Isaiah, for driving me home. It was nice not having to take the Tube.”

“No problem, Rose. It is my job, after all. I have to get back to London, but someone will be around to look over your house. Have a nice rest of your day,” said Isaiah and tipped his hat to Rose, and retreated back to the car.

Rose walked up to the front door to unlock it and went inside her home. In the car, Isaiah pulled out his phone to call Tommy. By the second ring, Tommy picked it up. “She home?” he asked.

“Yes, Tommy, she is just walked in her house right now,” replied Isaiah, looking over at the house. 

“Okay, good. Once Darren shows up, you can leave,” Tommy instructed Isaiah.

Hanging up the phone, Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose and took in a deep breath. When he let it out, he sat back down at his desk. Truth be told, Tommy did feel bad leaving Rose to wake up alone that morning. But he had to get to work. He knew she needed the rest from the previous night. Tommy did not know why, but when he was with Rose, he became a different person. It was as if he felt freer. More relaxed. More willing to pursue his darker desires than he ever had before. The way Tommy was with Rose, he was never like that with Lizzie. 

He was not quite sure what made the two women different. Lizzie, he noticed she would never push back, never quite challenge him. With Rose, he could see there was a fire in her. Tommy especially noticed it last night when she turned the tables on him during his line of questioning. For a second, she caught him off guard but managed to recover quickly. Rose was also more open to his sexual fantasies, whereas Lizzie was never that hardcore. Yes, he and Lizzie would experiment with role-playing or bondage, but it was never to the level he had with Rose. 

There was something about Rose that Tommy could not quite put his finger on. While he knew most everything about the woman, he still felt that he didn’t “know her.” That feeling bothered him. He was a man who liked to know everything about everyone and anything. Rose’s son was a factor that he did not know much about. 

According to information Tommy gathered, Louis was sixteen years old and attended public school. His birthday was July 3, 2003. He currently was in his 11th year at school, with next year being he would enter as a lower 6th. While his grades were decent, he was active with after-school sports like football or basketball. All in all, Tommy needed to determine if Rose’s son was a liability. He needed to meet the kid himself to determine if that was a fact.

Once Rose settled down at home, she opened her laptop and looked through her work email. Rose’s boss, Linda, wouldn’t be in the office today. She had to take her husband to a doctor’s appointment. So Rose knew she could get away with not physically being in the office that morning. However, Rose did not foresee herself oversleeping and missing much of the day’s work. She emailed Linda, letting her know that she was not feeling well that morning. Thankfully, Linda believed Rose and told her to rest up. 

What caught Rose off guard was when Linda mentioned how beautiful she looked last night. 

‘What the fuck,’ Rose said to herself, confused. She reached for her phone and saw the mass of text messages from friends and even her mother, Pam. All wrote how gorgeous she looked at the gala and congratulated her on “bagging” Tommy Shelby. The text from her mother stood out amongst the rest. Pam said she wanted to see Rose and Louis and planned to make a London trip sometime soon. Nothing indicating if Rose’s dad, Geoffrey, would join Pam on the trip. While Rose’s relationship with her mother was somewhat cordial, her relationship with her father was practically non-existent. Geoffrey more than let it be known that he wanted nothing to do with his daughter or grandson. It was one of the big reasons why Rose left Blackpool.

Against Rose’s better judgment, she googled Tommy Shelby. Low and behold, there was an array of articles about him with the mystery woman from last night’s gala, with pictures to boot. A part of her knew this would happen but didn’t quite expect this much attention from her friends, boss, or mother. Thankfully, news in England never lasted longer than 24 hours. Soon, a new shiny toy would be dangled in the face of the nation, and Rose would, literally, be yesterday’s news. She only had about a couple more hours to wait until more important and titillating news came along. 

With a slam of his fist to the desk, Luca Changretta was more than upset. He was angry once he caught sight of the pictures. Luca thought Alfie Solomons was lying when he said that Tommy Shelby had taken something from the Italian mobster. The Jewish gangster never quite stated what it was that Tommy had taken.

“Trust me, mate. You will find out soon enough, eh,” Alfie told Luca over the phone a while back. 

“You better not be fucking with me, Solomons. I know you enjoy playing games with Tommy, but I am no fool,” Luca sneered into the phone.

Alfie just laughed, “I’m not fucking with you. No, I wouldn’t do that to ya. I think our boy Tommy needs a reminder of his place, don’t you think. The lad has gotten a bit too big for his britches. Good ol’ Tom thinks he can take anything he wants with no consequences.”

“Again, Solomons, why should I care what Tommy Shelby does?”

“Well, come Thursday morning, be sure to check the London news. Then you will see. Be sure to call me when you do,” Alfie instructed and hung up the phone.

Luca’s first instinct was to brush Alfie off. The man was always playing tricks. However, there was a part of Luca that was intrigued to find out what Alfie was talking about. The pictures of Tommy with Rose infuriated Luca so much that all he saw was red. Blood red. Blood that needed to be spilled. 

[juststrugglingwithstress]

How to Write Believable ADHD

INTRO

so obvi rick riordan is the master, he did ADHD correctly, but i see a lot of people writing ADHD in the way that portreys it as “SQUIRREL SQUIRREL WAS THAT A SQUIRREL???? MUST MOVE MUST MOVE MUST MOVE FHDAFHEIAIEA”

this is both HORRIBLY wrong and offensive.

ADHD is not what you think it is. ADD is not the same as ADHD. there’s a lot of parts of ADHD/ADD that nobody ever talks about. in this post i’m going to talk about ADHD using:

things i know about ADHD/ADD

my experience as an adolescent with ADD

my experience as the sister of an adolescent with strong ADHD

my experience as the daughter of an adult with ADHD

i hope this will be helpful with writing believable, non-offensive ADHD and ADD characters. 

WHAT IS ADHD?

ADHD is an executive dysfunction. ADHD is divided into four different types: 

Inattentive

Hyperactive

Impulsive

Combination (two or all of the above)

ADHD VS. ADD

ADHD: Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder

ADD: Attention Deficit Disorder

ADD is a type of ADHD. As you may have guessed, is a term used when a person diagnosed with ADHD doesn’t show signs of hyperactivity.

Remember: ADD can be called ADHD, but ADHD cannot be called ADD.

They are different things, but since ADHD is more well-known, people with ADD might say they are ADHD instead to avoid having to give an explanation as to what ADD is. Unless you want to continuously have your ADD character explain what it means (or have every other character automatically know what it means, which is unrealistic) you will probably have them say they’re ADHD.

ADHD SYMPTOMS

Inattentive: getting distracted easily, having poor concentration and organization skills

Impulsive: interrupting, taking risks, poor impulse control

Hyperactive: difficulties staying on task, talking and fidgeting, never seeming to slow down

People experience these symptoms in different ways. People who were born with male chromosomes will often exhibit the more hyperactive side, while people born with female chromosomes will be more quietly inattentive.

Symptoms must effect your day-to-day life in order to actually mean ADHD! Getting distracted unusually easily once in a while doesn’t mean ADHD.

ADHD THINGS THAT AREN’T MEDICALLY SPOKEN OF

These are really just more specific things that usually come along with ADHD or ADD. (Not everybody has all--or even any--of these!)

Forgetting words 

“what’s the word??? you know, like,,,, medium but sad. if something medium-sized was depressed. its,,,,, SMALL, THE WORD IS SMALL”

“i hate,,,, i HATE,,,,, what is it, it’s like racism but genders,,,,,, you know, pink & blue toys???? its--it’s---- PATRIARCHY, I HATE THE PATRIARCHY”

“what is it wHAT IS IT IT’S,,, AH FUCK,,,,, LIKE THE WORD IS ALSO BUT I---OH THE WORD IS BUT”

“i   f o r g o t   w h a t   t o   c a l l   j o a n n e” “isn’t joanne,,, your mother?” “oh my god yes thats the word mother”

Procrastination

ugh, procrastination SUCKS. the kind of procrastination that comes with ADHD/ADD is like: 

“i have to do this ihavetodothisihavetodothisihavetodothis” running through your head while you continue to NOT do the thing. You want to, absolutely you do, but for some reason you just can’t make yourself do it.

Night Owl, But Not Really

A lot of people with ADHD experience a kind of thing where during the day, they’re slowly waking up and “loading” their brain. Then, at night, they are FULLY READY FOR THE DAY and now cannot go to sleep, resulting in a continuation of the cycle.

Out of Sight, Out of Mind

Literally. If you cannot see it, it is not there. This results in:

Losing things. CONSTANTLY.

If it ends up in the back of the fridge, it’s going to rot (unless somebody cleans out the fridge before that).

Clothes at the bottom of the drawer/back of the closet will never be worn.

If there is a pile of papers, any paper that is not (and is not directly-four papers below) the top one is gone forever.

Closed box? Say goodbye to whatever was in it.

Homework in a folder? Oof, hope that wasn’t too much of your grade.

REJECTION SYNDROME

Rejection syndrome is most prominent in women with ADHD/ADD. I’m not sure how to accurately explain rejection syndrome without showing examples, so:

Somebody glances at you (however briefly), and you immediately think they’re judging you/being mean to you.

Two people are whispering, and you immediately assume they are saying mean things about you.

basically, rejection syndrome is a forever-heightened feeling that the people around you hate or dislike you.

that’s all for now! i hope this was helpful. if you have any questions about this or would like me to write a meta about something else, my asks are always open. i also recommend the blog @adhdbri if you’d like to see more of a “day-to-day life” example of ADHD. thanks for reading! bye!

[allisontor]

❆ ( priscilla quintana, thirty, muse a, cis woman, she/her. ) i just saw ALLISON TORRES in northmount. you know, the VETERINARIAN? there they were, being their typical -UNPREDICTABLE and -VAGUE self. i’ve heard some say they’re +FLEXIBLE and +SINCERE, but i don’t know. they sort of remind me of A WILDFIRE YOU CANNOT TAME; WITH HER FLAMES BURNING RECKLESSLY UNTIL IT CONSUMES EVERYTHING AROUND HER, A BURNING SENSATION TO FILL THE VOID IN GOLDEN HEART & A WILLINGNESS TO FEEL ANYTHING BUT THE SHARP PANG OF LONELINESS, WEARING FLORAL SCENTS AND BURGUNDY LIPS SO MUCH THAT IT BECOMES HER ARMOR, but that’s just me. if you see them around, let me know, okay? and happy holidays! ( tiff, 29, she/her, pst. ) ❆

B A C K G R O U N D :

i.                  for as long as she can remember, it has always been her mom and her. residing in san francisco, california and living in a decent victorian apartment with big bay windows & a rent increase that comes every year. she had a happy childhood with her mom and an even happier adulthood.

ii.                she went to uc davis for college & would go home most weekends as to not be away from her mom. and after graduation, she went back home and started a career at a local vet hospital, specializing in dogs. sadly, she was only there for two years.

iii.               when she was 27, her mom was diagnosed with skin cancer, and it did not take long before she lost the most important thing to her. consumed by grief, she decided to move to the place where it all begun – northmount. it was the most logical choice. it was the place where her mom grew up, where her mom met her dad, and where she was conceived.

iv.               pouring all her life’s savings into a three bedroom white picked fence house with a red door, she is now a northmount resident and has been for the past year. now she works at the only animal hospital in town and trying to find herself again.

v.                 which brings her to now – three months ago she received a phone call from her father, who decided it was time to talk to his daughter after finding out about the passing of her mother. out of the kindness of his heart, and an sudden desire to connect, he invited her to montreal for christmas to meet his family.

vi.               & it has taken her a long time to decide before finally coming to terms and thinking that having a lonely christmas is not an ideal situation, especially for someone who loves christmas. on the way to the airport, regret and panic sank in. meeting rafael was, to her, fate and she clung onto that idea with desperation.

 P E R S O N A L I T Y :

i.                  she is, by nature, impulsive & unpredictable. always been one to follow her heart instead of her head, it has gotten her into situations without thinking. it has gotten her into some sticky situations and made her life seem more…exciting.

ii.                which is fine since she hates sitting alone and listening to the voice in her head. she will always find things to do, be able to whip up random conversations, and was always fleeting from one person to another. she is not constant, not consistent, and never been able to stay in one place for too long.

iii.               & she is a contradiction – she loves the idea of romance and lifelong partnership – the picture of close friends sitting together around the fireplace, but she is a drifter and cannot hold a friendship for too long. she wants love, but she is terrified of it.

iv.               yet she is sincerity, despite her aloofness or distance, she is sincere in her actions and truthful in her words. she lives up to her promises and will try to lend a helping hand when she can. often fostering animals until they find their forever home, she has a weakness for furry things.

v.                 at the end of the day, allison torres is sunshine. is a wildfire. an unpredictable source of warmth that seems to set ablaze what she touches, often leaving behind a trail of cold ashes.

M I S C F A C T S:

i.                  she has a mini aussie (2 years old) named mimi. this is her best friend and her family.

ii.                always wearing some sort of red lipstick and jasmine scent, she is the embodiment of femininity.

iii.               could live in soft sweaters and boots & loves the smell of christmas and hot chocolate.

iv.               have always wanted to live in a classic christmas movie, and didn’t realize how much she loves it until northmount.

v.                 dreams of owning a modern farmhouse on a huge lot so she can convert her backyard into a shelter for animals.

vi.               stands at 5’5 & is a proud cancer (born july 11th)

vii.              biromantic and loves both females and males

O O C :

hi all! super excited to be here. it has been a while since i joined a rp, but i just cannot resist a christmas one! i am very open to plots and love drama so please feel free to hit me up to brainstorm ideas!