#soap has adhd

[lazybutsmexy]

To good use

John "Soap" Mactavish x teacher!Reader

Johnny's mind works at breakneck speed, and you know how to slow him down.

Warnings: none! pure fluff, Johnny has ADHD. GN!Reader.

Words: 700~

A/N: Just a thing I came up with while preparing my lesson plans.

He stands up from the couch, completely disregarding the current football match. His team wasn’t doing well and he grew restless. His bare feet thudded on the wooden floor and took him to the kitchen, from where moments later the scent of freshly made coffee waltzed to you. 

You simply let out a soft puff of air, too focused on your task at hand - making sure your scissors didn’t stray a millimeter from the lines you had carefully designed on the brightly coloured craft paper. 

A soft ‘thunk’ signaled the presence of a steaming, fresh cup of coffee in front of you. “Thank you, Johnny,” you smiled up at him as he leaned down to peck your cheek. Immediately after, he shuffled over to the large window overseeing the front yard. 

The rain smacked heavily into the glass, as if attempting to break in. It wouldn’t - Johnny had made sure that the flimsy single-glass panels were replaced by bulletproof glass the moment you had agreed to date him all those years ago. He loved you and cherished you that much. 

You peered at him out of the corner of your eye. The sports commentator shouted another goal for the rival team, but you had a sneaking suspicion he didn’t hear it. 

His fingers twitched, and he clenched his hands a few times to relieve the tension. Soon, his fingers found themselves combing through his mohawk. The hair was soft, freshly conditioned after weeks. 

You could see the signals. He was itching for something to do. He couldn’t go on a run to wear himself down, nor even to smoke a cigarette in his storm. 

It was the part of his character that made you fall in love with him. His romantic spontaneity was born from his ever-working mind, and all the ways his thoughts zeroed in you. It was also his greatest flaw - if you could even call it that. When he lived with a mind that was always speeding at breakneck speed, left unchecked would give him - and you - whiplash. 

You snipped the last bit of paper in your hand and glanced at the rest of the materials on your workspace with an idea simmering in between your eyebrows. 

Forcing out a yawn and a stretch worked like a charm to bring his attention back to you. 

“Tired, bonnie?” he smiled, and by God, you could watch him smile for the rest of your days and be happy. He glanced at the clock on the wall and frowned slightly. “‘s pretty late, you almost done?”

“No,” you moaned pitifully, and drove the point home with a pout and batting eyelashes, “I need help with this if I want to go to sleep before midnight.” 

Immediately Johnny was dragging a chair and sitting down in front of you. “Tell me what to do, I’ll help.” Even though he tried to show a finality in his decision to help, you caught the hidden eagerness in his voice. 

Your beaming smile seemed to punch all thoughts away from his head as you handed him a stack of colourful paper strips. “Use that glue to stick the tips together to make rings, please,” you instructed him, and he immediately took the tiny tub of glue, “I need them arranged into a chain, the colour order isn’t important.” 

Johnny nodded once and muttered a soft “copy” before carefully getting to work. The way he delicately handled the strips showed you that your little plan had worked wonders. You turned your attention to the ornaments you had been working on - only half-made, so the kids would finish the work and get the credit, of course. 

“Thank you, Johnny,” he barely glanced up at your voice, obviously fully focused on his new super important task, “you’re a life-saver.”

His little chuckle and the bump of his ankle against yours under the table filled you with warmth, “‘course, can’t leave my bonnie struggling.”

You somehow held back an eyeroll and swallowed the ‘likewise’ that almost escaped your lips. You’d let him take the credit too. 

Taglist: @warenai @embers-of-alluring @queen-of-hearts-lemon-tarts

Join the taglist

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Kinktober Day 2 - Massage

SoapGaz

CW: Under-negotiated kink, manual penetration, orgasms and implied associated mess, No Homo (Much Homo)

"Ah wanna try something," Johnny says.

Kyle grunts something that might be generously interpreted as an affirmatively inquisitive noise. Considering the relaxed pleasure pain he's in, he doesn't bother to articulate further. Johnny's used his fingers, knuckles, and elbows to bully every knot in his back into submission. If he wants to help Kyle relax further, he's not going to complain.

Johnny's fingers dance, a light pitter patter, from the base of Kyle's skull down to his tailbone. It would be ticklish, but his body is too heavy to care. He hums when the man smooths a hand over his hip, then suppresses a nervous shiver when Johnny pushes the towel down, exposing his backside to the air.

They've never done this before, but Johnny seems to know what he's doing. Kyle's whole body goes back to imitating a puddle when strong hands start kneading and prodding at his glutes. There's a knot of pain - of course there fucking is - that has Kyle wincing and trying not to dance up the bed. But then everything releases and Kyle's back to floating on cloud nine.

It takes a minute to realize that things are feeling a bit too good. "Tav," Kyle slurs.

"Aye."

"'m hard."

"Aye? Gonna let me do something aboot it this time?"

"Ha ha," Kyle grumbles. "Y're a riot. Jus' gimme a mo'."

"'m not jokin'," Johnny says back, voice oddly soft. "Told you, I wanna try something. Think about it."

Kyle tries, but heavy hands start on his hamstrings and it feels like the gentlest hell. Johnny coaxes him through it until everything goes soft again, then repeats the process with his calves. The pain does nothing to counter the way Kyle's head floats, or the way he can feel his pulse in his cock. By the time Johnny smooths his hands back up to his shoulders, he feels like purring.

Johnny's voice is barely a whisper. "Let me?"

Kyle hums. "'lrigh'."

Oil drips to pool in the small of Kyle's back, just warmer than the temperature of his skin. Johnny's hands spread it around, cupping the globes of his arse and using his thumbs to toy with the nub of his tailbone. He isn't shy when his thumbs drift lower, coaxing a startled grunt from Kyle when one brushes over his hole.

"Gettin' a li'l gay there, Tav," he chuckles.

"No homo," Johnny says, distracted, as he puts just enough pressure to coax Kyle's relaxed body to open for him.

And Johnny is a grown man in charge of his own heteroflexibility, so Kyle just closes his eyes and enjoys the ride. There's nothing uncomfortable about this massage. Johnny's hands are firm and gentle in turns, until he's sinking one finger into Kyle with a bitten back groan. Kyle doesn't bite anything back, just hikes one leg up an inch or so with a moan of his own.

Johnny seems content to keep things to a single digit for a while. His other hand keeps up the gentle ministrations on Kyle's thighs, glutes, and lower back, but he's to distracted for much more than petting.

When he does finally fit a second finger into him, Kyle can't help but cant his hips back. Johnny's fingers slide deep. It's obvious it's no accident when he finds Kyle's prostate, firm but gentle pressure that sets his body alight. His muscles are too relaxed to tense into the pleasure. All he can do is lay there and let his best friend gently coax him toward what promises to be an intense orgasm.

Though he probably could come this way, he nearly whimpers with gratitude when Johnny's free hand wiggles its way under his hips. Even with everything that's already happened, the confidence of his grip is still a surprise. His hand is slow, but firm as he grips what might be the firmest erection of Kyle's life. He's not trying for anything fancy, but it's more than enough.

Kyle can only lie there, trembling so hard his teeth chatter, as Johnny croons something he can't parse and unvelcros his soul from somewhere behind his bellybutton. He's so out of it that he barely registers Johnny's grunt, a warm spatter against his upper thighs.

(Later, when Johnny has graciously cleaned up and they're laying shoulder to shoulder, Kyle can't help but ask, "What the fuck was that?"

"S called a happy endin'," Johnny chuckles. "One o' mah classmates posted aboot someone askin' fer one. Went doon the rabbit hole. Figured ye'd like it."

"Did you figure you'd like it?"

Johnny just cackles.)

[seeker-of-stories19]

Autistic Ghost Headcannons

- Intentionally ignores social cues

- Scowls all the time at everything and everyone but usually not on purpose

- Takes full advantage of his ear defenders and balaclava to avoid sensory experiences he dislikes

- Incredibly restrictive eating, often chooses to go hungry rather than touch something he dislikes

- One of his favorite stims is smelling Soaps hair

- Gets overstimulated by certain things but is also very sensory seeking in other ways

- Wears tight gloves and sleeps under four weighted blankets because he likes the pressure

- Stims by making a tight fist, chewing his lips, scratching, hitting himself, leaning against things, rocking, pacing, rubbing the seam of his balaclava, tapping his ear defenders

- One track mind, he hates switching tasks and never does more than one thing at once unless it’s a hundred percent necessary

- Wears a mask largely to hide his scars and identity but it has the added benefit of keeping him from having to worry about making the correct facial expressions

- Very prone to dissociation

- Violent meltdowns, tends to have a vicious temper and destroy everything around him, hurting himself or anyone else unfortunate enough to cross his warpath

- But eventually when he’s in private he ends up just curling into himself and crying and rocking like he did as a kid

- It makes him feel incredibly vulnerable and he goes to extreme lengths to avoid the meltdowns which is a huge part of why they’re so bad

- Only Johnny and sometimes Price can calm him down

- Everyone else just thinks he has an explosive temper for no reason

- Ties his boots dangerously tight to get more sensory input

- Thrives under military routines but ignores rules that don’t make sense

- This definitely caused problems with COs in the past but Price is way more understanding and generally the 141 gets a lot of leniency on rules because of the type of work they do and the specific value of their skill sets

- Soap sleeps on top of him and always squeezes his hand a little too hard

- Hides in his room when overstimulated and shuts down completely, will literally disassociate for hours until Soap finds him

- Obsessively neat, nothing is ever anywhere other than where it’s supposed to be

- Doesn’t mind loud sounds but hates multiple sounds at once

- Explosions and gunfire are usually fine as long as he has his headphones but people talking and eating all at once in the mess makes him want to cry

- Absolutely despises crowds and will get very agitated and pissed off before eventually checking out until Johnny can get him back to a quiet space

- Soap letting him have the best vantage point when they go out because of how bad Simons PTSD and sensory issues are and he trusts Simon to watch his six

- Drinks but never to the point of being drunk

- Has the shittiest temperature regulation ever, gets so overheated but can’t figure out why and would freeze to death if it wasn’t for Soap making him put on layers because he’s basically immune to the cold

- Other than keeping his space clean which is mostly because it’s been beaten into him by his dad and then the army to the point where having a messy space will send him into a panic attack he’s a disaster. He never remembers to bring his dishes over to the tiny kitchen in the 141s rec room and routinely stares at things for days unable to complete simple tasks until he gets so pissed he ends up crying

- Price used to get annoyed by it and they’ve all three harassed him about it but once they realize that he’s genuinely struggling all three of them step in to make things easier for him, helping clean up his stuff in common spaces and wash dishes

- Soap definitely helps him with his laundry but only at 3am when he suddenly has the urge to do his own because ADHD

- His interoception is appalling, he’ll be furious and yell at recruits or just look at people like he wants to kill them on missions until Johnny leans over to subtly remind him that he hasn’t gone to the bathroom or eaten anything in eight hours

- Is fluent in BSL and uses it to communicate with Price when he’s in a verbal shutdown

- Soap and Gaz ask Price to teach them secretly and when they start signing to Ghost one day he’s absolutely shocked

- Generally he gets by with everyone else by grunting and scowling, people are too scared of him to call him out

- Most of his masking relies on peoples fear of him even though it often makes him feel even less human and it’s a vicious downward spiral

- Soap not being afraid of him was a really big deal because of this but also lead to him being really freaked out and unsure how to handle his prying

- Soap just finds him impossibly endearing and loves all the hidden little movements and noises he makes when they’re alone

- Lets Simon use his hands to fidget under the table during meetings

- Even though Soap isn’t the best at social cues himself he takes up explaining things to Ghost subtly whenever he can

- When Simon comes to his room to ask him about something someone said for the first time he’s ecstatic and considers it a great victory

- While a lot of Simons stims are more subtle or at least misinterpreted Soap will absolutely get hyped up when he’s stimming and start jumping or rocking or flapping his hands eagerly

- Soap sends him adhd x autism memes all the time and encourages Ghost to send back anything that interests him even if he thinks Soap won’t like it

- Is shocked to realize how strong Ghosts special interests are as his phone turns into a constant flood of articles and artwork about things Ghost loves

- Included but not limited to guns, puzzles, animal anatomy and bones, flowers (specifically the meanings of flowers) and many others

- Taking things apart and putting them back together, usually his rifle but will generally do it with everything from pens to knives

- Hoards weird things like old ink cartridges and bullet casings

- Has an unbelievable memory for details of old missions, can remember building layouts from over five years ago

- Soap’s room is so chaotic they barely spend time there because of how much it stresses Ghost out

- Generally they just balance each other out well with Simon being aggressively introverted and Soap being just as extroverted

- He pushes Simon a bit outside of his comfort zone and helps him socialize while Ghost reigns him in

- No one else really gets how they operate in the field except each other

- Soap was professionally diagnosed in school while Ghost was professionally diagnosed after Roba under a fake name with Price’s help so it’s not officially on his military record

- Ghost is actually very okay with how his brain works because it’s made him who he is and allowed him to surpass the regular limitations of a soldier

- He struggles more in his personal life but being around Soap heals a deep part of him that he’s buried since early childhood

- They understand each other like no one else ever has

[lemonwrap]

So everyone’s seen “Soap has ADHD” headcanons, right? Well, I have some ideas too >:)

- First off, Soap isn’t constantly ditzy or distracted!! In fact, he’s often very focused, especially on the job. Soap is great at sniping and demolitions because of the split second calculations and laser focus needed, and he thrives in high-stress environments, loves the rush of it all. It’s only off the field where he tends to get fidgety and distracted, because there’s no rush of pure, unadulterated adrenaline and nowhere to direct his energy. That’s when he starts to struggle, and personal leave is like pulling teeth for Soap.

- Soap deals with any energy or emotion he has with action and exercise, because he needs an outlet. Angry? Go to the gym and spar. Nervous? Go practice your aim. Sad? Go for a run. Happy? Go to the gym again, but this time lift weights instead of throwing recruits around.

- He’s dead set on improvement, whether it be beating Gaz’s time or a PR, and he’ll train until he physically can’t, so fixated on getting a number that it’s a little worrying at times. Price has ordered him to get the hell off of the shooting range and go take a break multiple times, and Soap has endlessly practiced until he could beat his own personal records—then started again, because he needs to beat the new record, too.

- Soap isn’t constantly talking, and he knows when to stop. He can chat up a storm, sure, but he’s very aware that it can be irritating or inappropriate in some contexts, so he’s learned to hold his tongue. He can get excited about things he’s interested in and knows a plethora of trivia, but he always purposely keeps that kind of thing to himself.

- Soap is socially adept. He’s smart, cheerful, and handsome to boot, so of course people are drawn to him like moths to a flame—but the problem with flames is that they burn.

- Soap knows he burns a bit too brightly, and he learned the hard way when he was young that not everyone can deal with that. It stung and Soap tried to squish himself into a box to fit in, but now he regards himself with more respect. It’s not that Soap is too much; it’s just that most people aren’t enough. Pretty much only the 141 can match him in his intensity, and Soap has never fit in so well with a group of people before.

- Soap’s mind races almost constantly, but he’s put a lot of work into filtering out the useless thoughts and focusing on the important ones (It has never once occurred to him that most other people do not have this issue)

- Soap thinks so fast that sometimes he can’t describe how he came to a conclusion or got an answer, he just did. He also jumps from topic to topic with no obvious bridge between them, and then gets frustrated when others don’t immediately understand how he got from point A to point C, because wasn’t it obvious? He always got poor marks in math class when he was asked to show his work.

- Soap isn’t forgetful because he makes sure he isn’t. If possible, he writes down every pertinent detail in his journal, then reviews multiple times to confirm he knows the ins and outs of everything.

- Soap lives up to his name—he’s clean. He puts in effort to keep himself, his space, and his belongings neat and clean; he just doesn’t realize that most people don’t have to put in so much to get the same results. The mess gets out of control quickly, so he has to stay on top of it. (Soap thinks that quote about one’s environment being a reflection of their mind is bullshit, since his mind is cluttered but his room and gear are spotless).

That’s all for now! Until next time ;)

[unpoppedcolonel]

hi ur tags are so good !!!!!!! the tags ab soap watching his demolitions ?/?:? yeag hauve covid too etc i love the idea that he gets so focused it ends up monstrous and ghost is just wired like That so it doesnt Bother him exactky And also what’s ur fav headcanon if u have one ?

You gotta be more than a little fucked to be a storyline playable character for this series imo. The logical conclusion of accounting for all playstyles sorta deal, which is Very Fun to apply to fics.

As for headcanons: most of my more mild ones have been fully explored in one way or another by fic authors and meta posters.

My biggest reasonable one is that Soap is a mask for John Mactavish. While the persona hasn't always been referred to as "Soap" (maybe "Tav" by schoolmates and fellow recruits, "JJ" by family), John has had some version of it since grade school.

Something something, being smart and trying really hard wasn't enough to make people like him or get the attention he lacked. But being outgoing and friendly and ballsy, that's what works. Even the people who complain about him being loud still at least hear him. John figured out how pack bonding works, essentially, and manually calibrated a persona with the intention of using it.

It wasn't even "acting out to get attention", it was a deliberate set of rules he figured out and applied to himself. It's a whole separate skillset he taught himself.

This is not a bad thing. It did wonders for his emotional development and confidence.

This is all to say that Sgt. Mactavish was wearing a mask when he met Ghost. It's why the only time he jokes about Ghost taking it off, his phrasing is laced with silly innuendo and they're separated by what still felt like an insurmountable physical distance.

In some ways, he's always testing to see who gets to see Johnny rather than Soap or Sgt. Mactavish.

[sangelune]

   sometimes  soap  gets  so  lost  in  activities  he  forgets  the  critical  things  such  as  eating.  it's  actually  pretty  common  for  soap  to  find  himself  shaking  and  wondering  why  -  until  it  clicks  he's  starving  and  needs  to  eat  food  because  he  just forgot.  he  bounces  from  activity  to  activity,  and  the  small  everyday  things  tend  to  slip  his  mind  now  and  again.  he's  lucky  the  others  in  141  are  attentive  and  often  catch  him  out  before  it  gets  too  bad.  on  his  own  -  it's  pretty  bad.

[duskier]

Soap for character bingo please??

Thank you 😊

....I'm a little biased towards Soap

[tamaharu]

why is talking to parents about mental health stuff so nerve wracking like im just informing them that im planning to get an adhd assessment so they could help with insurance and im like oh man i should be shot for this

[nerdie-faerie]

Shoutout to those friends you only see a couple times a year cus you don't live locally to each other anymore, so they regale you with soap opera worthy life updates

[tunaricebowl]

i don’t know which autistic/adhd/any kind of neurodivergent person needs to hear this but: make a “just in case” bag

this is a pic of mine. it contains:

loop earplugs on the zipper

prescription glasses with a clip on sunglasses attachment

my public transport discount card

a pen

a glasses cloth + wet glasses wipes (which can also be used to clean my hands if needed!

wireless earbuds in case my headphones give out

tips for my apple pencil + silicon covers if i need a different texture/the sound is too loud

a sanitary pad (not for me, as i had a hysterectomy, but i like carrying one around for my menstruating friends)

a pouch with hair ties for when my hair bothers me

autism lanyard (not pictured, as i put it in after i took it)

will i use these every day? not necessarily. but it’s good to have these all in one place in a little pouch so it’s easy to throw into my bag as i use different ones for different occasions. that way i don’t have to think about all these things individually.

it might seem like common sense for some people, but i didn’t think of this until recently. so i wanted to share this in case it could be handy for other people. some more ideas for what to put in your bag under the break. you can make this as big or as small as you like so some ideas may seem a bit big

powerbank + cables (preferably a powerbank that has a LOT of charge)

snacks (do keep an eye on the expiration date)

painkillers/emergency meds (same thing about the expiration date)

sewing kit

deodorant/perfume

mini fan

hand warmers

scissors/nail clippers (for when tags/threads/your nails are bothering you)

tweezers

lucky charm (i have my lucky cat keychain. it just calms me to have)

plushie/stress ball/fidget toy

mints/a mini toothbrush and toothpaste

extra pair of underwear (for if you suddenly need to stay somewhere overnight or if an accident happens)

comb

band-aids + disinfectant

hand cream/soothing cream

soap/soap leaves

similarly, some mini shampoo or mini body wash (again for if you suddenly need to stay the night. there’s probably already some wherever you’re staying but again. this is a just in case bag)

q-tips

chapstick

makeup remover wipes

razors

hand sanitizer/general sanitizer

wet wipes/tissues

foldable bag

ruler/tape measure

this is a lot but keep in mind, these are just ideas. you don’t have to use everything, just pick out which things you think would be handy for you and make your bag accordingly. do feel free to add onto the list if you have any other ideas.

[aquaholicsanonymousworld]

Okay call me insane for requesting this but I have a Jack Abbott idea that popped into my head after seeing your most recent soap cod writing. What if the reader comes into the pitt with minor injuries but still need to be bandages up & she’s Jack’s young wife so when the current doc treating her comments something like ‘oh actually we have a doc named Abbott too’ and asks if that’s her dad. The same time he walks in insists on being the only one to treat her. That pisses him off but the reader teases him & calls him daddy 🫣 (sorry my adhd is on a roll & I didn’t proof read this so hope that makes sense. Ok bye!) *mwah* 💋

bisous! enjoy daddy abbott!

Dr. Daddy

Pairing: Dr Jack Abbott x Wife!Reader

Summary: You came into The Pitt with a few minor injuries. Nothing serious — a couple scrapes, a nasty bruise, and a whole lot of pride damage after slipping on iced coffee in front of a packed elevator. You were fine. What wasn’t fine? The resident patching you up just asked if Dr. Jack Abbott was your dad. And he asked it right as your husband walked in the room.

“I’m just saying,” Whitaker shrugged as he unwrapped a roll of gauze, “we have another Dr. Abbott here. Older guy. Real serious type. I think he’s in trauma. You guys must be related, right?”

You blinked. And then you grinned.

“Related?” you echoed, tilting your head as he dabbed antiseptic across your elbow.

He nodded. “Yeah — I mean, he’s probably old enough to be your dad. Kinda has that strict professor thing going on.”

You pressed your lips together, hard, to keep from laughing. Because right on cue, the door behind him swung open.

And in walked Dr. Jack Abbott, arms crossed, jaw tight, eyes locked directly on you.

“Out,” he said, curt and low.

Whitaker blinked, turning halfway. “Sorry—sir?”

Jack stepped fully into the room now, standing straight, a little too calm. “I’ll take over. She’s not a patient to be handed off.”

You watched as Whitaker's face went from confusion to realization to full-blown oh-no-I-just-stepped-in-it.

“I—uh—I didn’t know—” he stammered. “I thought maybe she was your—”

“My wife,” Jack snapped.

Silence.

Whitaker muttered something like “I’ll update her chart” and bolted so fast he nearly left a puff of smoke behind. The door closed.

Jack didn’t move.

You stared at him for a long beat, then cracked a smile. “You know, he did say you had the strict professor vibe.”

He walked over to the sink, washed his hands with military precision, not even looking at you. “He asked if I was your father.”

You bit your lip. “He was trying to be polite.”

“He’s an idiot.” Jack picked up a fresh gauze pad and turned to you. His jaw was still tight, but you could see the heat behind his eyes now. “And if you ever let someone underqualified touch you again, I’ll—”

You cut him off, voice light, teasing. “What? Ground me?”

His gaze flicked up to yours, sharp.

You smiled, just enough to tip it over the edge.

Then, like it was the most natural thing in the world, you leaned back a little on the table and purred, “Relax, daddy. He didn’t even get to the good parts.”

Jack froze.

You could see the moment it hit him. The twitch in his jaw. The shift in his posture.

His voice dropped half an octave. “You want to try that again?”

You raised your brows, innocently. “What? I was injured. I needed help. You’re always saying I should let people treat me with respect.”

“I said they should treat you like you matter,” he muttered, pressing gauze to your bruise a little harder than necessary. “Not call me your father in the middle of the ER.”

You grinned. “I didn’t say father. I said daddy. Big difference.”

He exhaled through his nose. “You are impossible.”

You leaned in. “And yet, you married me.”

Jack didn’t answer. Just taped the last piece of gauze with unnecessary precision and said, flatly, “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Devastatingly cute,” you corrected, swinging your legs as he packed up supplies. “Now c’mon, daddy. Let’s get me out of here before you lose your medical license over a bruised ego.”

He turned, gave you a look that promised consequences — later.

And just before you left the room, he muttered, barely audible under his breath: “Call me that again when we’re not in a trauma bay.”

[xoxochb]

——— ౨ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

“get these off.” you begin to throw each of the four blankets off one by one. “I never want to see these again in my life.”

“wait! shouldn’t this be a democracy?” percy hurriedly stops your hands in their movements.

your brows furrow. “there’s only two of us.”

“and mini us.” he points to the seahorse and turtle you had placed on your bedside table.

you sigh. “they don’t get a vote. I’m taking three of those off before I get heat stroke.”

you begin to throw each one onto the floor. you’d be washing the sheets tomorrow morning anyways. percy, defeatedly falls back against the headboard of the bed and allows you to continue until only one blanket is left.

you already feel much cooler. you sit up fully into a criss-cross with your legs and let the blankets fall and expose your exposed and burning skin.

percy reaches out and traces your spine from very top to bottom with his index. it’s oh-so light and sends your skin tingling.

“what’re you doing?”

“am I allowed to just touch you because I can?”

you close your eyes. “then touch me.”

percy smirks. “happily, sweet girl.”

your eyes shoot back open and you turn around, taking the blanket with you so he cannot be distracted by your chest. “that’s not what I meant!”

“well it was a very broad statement.”

you slap his head. “I’m leaving now, perseus.” you roll your eyes drop the blanket entirely and stand up from the bed.

“wait I wanna come with you.”

percy scurries off the bed but you’ve already began walking into the bathroom. once in, you turn on the shower and wait awkwardly for it to warm up to your preferred temperature.

luckily, percy enters and waits awkwardly with you.

but he’s also adhd so that only lasts about three seconds.

“how much longer?”

“go in now.”

he shrugs and enters. you enter yourself right after, not bothering to wait as you’re aware he could always adjust the temperature at his own will himself.

you push him out of the falling of the water so you can enjoy the warmth. he loves you so he lets it slide.

“do you know how you hated that new shampoo I got? the coconut one?”

percy grimaces. he’d complained every second of the day after you tried it out. safe to say he did not like it at all. “awful soap…”

“well! I bought the strawberry one again. I actually bought three of them so I won’t run out for a while.”

“you… are an angel, sweet girl.” percy pushes himself impossibly closer to you, cupping your cheeks and kisses your wet forehead.

you stand up on your tippy-toes and peck his lips before pulling back.

you step to the side for a moment to grab said soap. with this chance, percy steps beneath the shower. when you step back so does he.

you open the cap of the bottle and extend it to percy. you let him smell it first since he has complained for soooo long.

“just as delicious as I remember.”

“happy you like it.” you squirt a portion into your hands before running it through your locks. percy takes the bottle and places it back upon the self.

when stepping back he watches/admires your current form. the way the water runs down your body, the one he has memorized both inside and out from the top of your head to the bottom of your feet.

and the way your hair cascades like waterfalls down your back as you rinse through the soap. and the hands he’d give you anything just to kiss for eternity and to hold and to let touch his very own suntanned skin.

suddenly percy wishes he had asked you to stay in med and partake in a second round of love making.

“sweet girl?”

“perce.”

you take a microscopic step back and pull him flush against you to stand beneath the shower. his hands gently find your waist.

he doesn’t say anything but continues to stare at you.

“you called for me? speak!”

percy shrugs. “I just wanted to hear your voice.”

you can’t be mad at that. “well you’re hearing it firsthand.”

“and I’m savoring it.”

fundamentally impossible to be angry with this silly boy.

[jgvfhl]

Okay LISTEN. Man's got ADHD oozing out his ears, HE'S ALLOWED A LITTLE LEEWAY WITH HIS WORKING MEMORY.

Soap once forgotten where he parked the getaway car and no one has let him live it down. It’s been a year now and still no one knows what he did with the car.

[ironteeth-fury]

So imagine what if its Soap who keeps his composure during missions, who doesnt get flustered by the banter and the flirting and the innuendos?

Soap who has been living with adhd his whole life and knows how to have his thoughts all over the place while still focusing on what he's doing? Soap who flirts shamelessly with Ghost while never losing focus on the mission, Soap who laughs and doesnt blush at the casual touches and personal space invasions that happen at base.

Ghost who totally freaks out about all of this because all he knows is to /not/ have feelings, how the fuck is he supposed to focus when his crush is whispering either filthy innuendos or terrible jokes in his ear? Ghost who stammers and gets lost for words and who doesnt /miss/ but he can tell that his shots and knife throws are a little unbalanced, just slightly off centre. It still kills, but he can tell its not as good as it should be. Ghost who gets incredibly frustrated by his own lack of control and focus, the constant bluescreening. Ghost who is super insecure about the fact that he does not have the same effect on Soap.

And then later after all the man angst and they get together, Ghost who approaches this shit like a mission and Soap like a target, and learns everything that makes the man tick. Ghost who makes it his personal high priority mission to make the man blush and falter and lose focus. Ghost who makes an artform out of distracting the Scot so bad that even his muscle memory on very well-known tasks falters.

Ghost who becomes a cocky little shit because nothing fazes Soap. Except Ghost.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk <3

[quarterlifekitty]

okay so this is kinda different than selective,y mute reader but what if she had like 3 modes; selectively mute/silent af, just making random noises/shouts, or will not stop yapping (there’s just smth about how you write selectively mute reader that makes my adhd brain feel so seen)

Tbh I don’t think this is far from the truth!

I think she has trigger questions. Simon knows the kind of thing that will get her talking, Soap is starting to learn. They just have to tap into something where she’s thought about it enough to either have a preloaded script or be too excited to be anxious. I’ve said before— I think they all bond over B-movies, so asking her about what they’re watching is usually a safe bet. It always makes her smile to see Johnny looking at her intently and going “go on, hen” to show he’s interested.

Then there are the times that she’s silent no matter what. Simon has to kind of teach Soap that this isn’t personal, and doesn’t necessarily mean she’s upset or anxious or anything. Sometimes she just doesn’t feel that urge, the words don’t come out, sometimes the quiet feels safe and comfortable.

And then I also think of her as having echolalia. It can be easier for her to vocalize by making a repeated sound or by saying back what someone else said. This throws Soap for a loop a little bit, to be honest, because he’s not used to hearing his words back to himself, and he’s also used to people tuning him out when he goes on and on. He’s endlessly amused when she parrots Simon. She has this little lilt to her voice when she’s repeating something, almost like she’s tasting the words.

She also has some non verbal sounds in the repertoire. Tongue clicking, kissy noises, things like that.

[eowynstwin]

Do you have any advice on writing Soap? I really like how you portray him.

Thank you! The best way I can explain how I write him is—

A people person without a lot of active charisma, but a passive kind of draw to him. Being handsome does some of the work for him, but it’s more that he’s very expressive with his feelings, and that leads people to believe he’s always being honest. He isn’t—he can fool someone into thinking he likes them when he doesn’t. He really only does that though when he wants something from someone, otherwise he doesn’t waste the energy, which lends to that honest veneer.

He’s audacious. He’ll say the things people prefer not to. He’ll look at the elephant in the room and ask how the hell the thing got in there in the first place. He’s often a hammer in situations that could use a scalpel, but that’s by choice, not ignorance. He can be a scalpel, if he needs to, but he prefers to startle people with his impertinence.

Plus, being impertinent sets people’s expectations, and that means when they discover he has been a scalpel this whole time, it’s all the more entertaining.

He’s voracious. He likes good food, good sex, and a good time. He will chase each one down shamelessly. He is not shy about mentioning his wants for any of them. He’s also shockingly competent at most things he tries, so he has a lot of random, hidden skills. I like to write about him as a cook because it gels well (I feel) with his chemistry background as a demolitions expert, but again, he absolutely does not give off that impression.

I also imagine he has ADHD. He’s always moving. Always shifting his body. He needs something to do with his hands. He can’t sit down for long unless he’s doing something so engrossing that it occupies all of his mind.

Tl;dr On the surface he’s a meathead sex pest, and that is an image he cultivates. What it hides is a very shrewd personality with a penchant for fucking with people. When he decides he wants something, he’s not above playing dirty to get it, and he usually does get it, surprising everyone around him.