Tumgik
#sorry for my adhd that only lets me actually write these essays out when someone directly asks me… but also thank you anon for asking
suchacomet · 1 year
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Okay, I don't have a tumblr but I saw your post about Lupe taking signs and it is something that has bothered me the whole show. It makes absolutely no sense for a picture not to take any signs from a catcher, they are just asking for a passed ball. Not to mention it makes it impossible for Carson to frame the plate well. Genuinely, how are they supposed to be a good battery without Carson knowing what is coming?
okay the thing is you’re SO right about everything you just said but it only makes me love that moment even more. you’re exactly right that from a baseball perspective no self-respecting catcher, much less a catcher who’s also the coach for fuck’s sake, would ever ask a pitcher to pitch without signs—but from a story and character development perspective… i am kissing that scene with tongue.
because it’s all about trust and their developing relationship! by telling lupe to pitch without signs, carson is saying that she’s willing to take the blame for all of the bad pitches. every ball that gets past her, every pitch that could have been a strike if carson had framed it right but is called as a ball instead, every base and run that those errors cost the team—carson is telling lupe that’s on her, not lupe. especially given that this is lupe’s first game post-injury, that means even more. carson is putting her ass on the line to cover for any rustiness/adjustment time lupe may have in this game.
not only that, but it really explicitly gives lupe a lot of power in their relationship on the diamond. given the context of the episode and lupe’s (JUSTIFIED!!!!) frustration with the coaching power struggle and carson’s appointment as coach, carson is apologizing and attempting to make it right by telling lupe she gets to run the game, giving her the power to decide what pitches are thrown. yes, pitchers always get the final say, but carson is doing away with even the symbolic notion of telling lupe what to do in this game.
frankly, lupe could have chosen to pitch terribly and intentionally throw passed balls and frame carson as an incompetent catcher and coach here. carson knows that—she’s a professional catcher, she has to know that—but she trusts lupe not to abuse that power.
and lupe doesn’t. she pitches a fucking killer game, and after a few innings (i would guess, time gets a little wonky in gameplay montages), lupe forces carson to give her a sign. to me, that represents the moment lupe forgives carson and that they start to rebuild their relationship (which gets complicated by the getting traded/gay bar plot in the next ep, but the betrayal carson feels there is only possible because of this moment). lupe acknowledges and accepts the apology from carson and asks to return to the usual pitcher/catcher dynamic.
and carson offers a one. she calls for a fastball. and lupe smirks, and nods, and hurtles a comet of a third strike straight down home fucking plate.
remember what carson said to lupe before she says “you lead, i catch, no signs”? she says, “the forkball was dove’s pitch. what’s yours?”
it’s the fastball. carson knows it. lupe knows it. and in this moment lupe makes sure carson knows it’s not just her pitch—it’s their pitch. lupe explicitly invites carson to be a part of this third strike, this last out, this winning play.
so in other words yes, for sure, my jock brain scoffs at the idea that a catcher would ever fuck themselves over like that in a game, especially one so important. but for that exact reason, my writer filmmaker brain LOVES it as a symbol of lupe and carson’s relationship development. it’s a beautiful expression of trust between these two characters who want and need to trust each other but haven’t been able to due to outside influences. it’s the turning point where they start to become real friends, and i fucking love it.
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pan-fangirl-345 · 3 years
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Books Bring People Together
Summary: A frustrated and stuck Kaminari comes to you for help, and it somehow blooms into something else along the way.
TW: I made Kaminari ADHD, so I'm sorry if there's anything wrong, I went off what my ADHD friends do and what a medical site told me. I myself am not ADHD, so again, I apologize if there's anything wrong with this. Small swears, and Mineta, which should be a warning in and of itself.
A/N: I have had this half-baked idea stuck in my head for months and I wanted it out, so I am giving you all this!
"Hey, um, (Y/L/N), can I ask you something?" Kaminari asked, sliding into the chair across from you at the common room table.
"Sure, what's up?" you asked, setting your pencil down on the paragraph you were reading.
"Um, this is kind of embarrassing," Kaminari admitted. "But, um, I'm having a really hard time with English right now, and I know that you're right behind Bakugou in grades."
"Where are you going with this Kaminari?" you asked, crossing your arms in front of your chest.
You had heard things about Kaminari, and after meeting Mineta and knowing that Kaminari hung around with him, you didn't have the best impression of him. You had just been placed in Class 2-A, and so far you had mostly hung around with what the other students were calling the 'Dekusquad'.
"I need someone to tutor me," he admitted. "Normally English isn't all that hard for me, but Shakespeare is whack and I don't understand half of it."
"You want me," you started, "to tutor you. Why not ask Bakugou? Isn't he your friend?"
"Yeah, but . . . Bakugou has . . . harsh methods, and I need someone who won't treat me like an idiot," Kaminari confessed.
"Alright," you relented. "Why don't we get started now? Do you have anything going on?"
"No, this takes precedent," Kaminari said, rushing to grab his things.
"Alright, here's my question for you," you said when he propped his book open. "Why don't you understand?" You saw the look on his face change and you winced. "Sorry, sometimes I have a hard time controlling the tone of my voice. Let me rephrase that question." You paused for a moment, thinking of the right words before you said, "What about this don't you understand? What's the one thing about this that trips you up?"
"The formatting for one thing," Kaminari grumbled. "Why the hell is printed like that?"
You chuckled, brushing hair out of your face. You had thought the same thing the first time you had read Shakespeare.
"Alright, how about you just read, and then you can ask me any questions while I work on my own stuff, alright?"
"That sounds like it might work," he admitted.
"If that doesn't work, feel free to let me know," you told him. "This is about what helps you remember the material better."
"No, like I said, normally this is really easy for me," Kaminari said. "Let's try it."
"Alright, and remember, if you have any questions, I'm right here."
"Thanks (Y/L/N)," he mumbled.
"Of course, I wouldn't be much of a hero if I couldn't help people, right?" you mused, smiling at him.
"R-Right!" he chirped, grinning back at you.
You both worked in silence for a little bit before Kaminari leaned back in his chair, rubbing at him eyes.
"You okay?" you asked.
"Yeah, sorry, I'm ADHD, so sitting still and trying to read this is a little hard," he confessed. "And I might be dyslexic, I've never been tested but sometimes reading is hard for me."
You frowned, biting the inside of your lip, running the situation through your head.
"What if I read it to you?" you asked, looking up from your chemistry homework.
"How? It's a play," Kaminari said.
"I used to be in a drama club in middle school," you told him. "It's set up like a script, or if we don't have the energy to act it out, it's not hard to pretend that it's a regular story."
Kaminari stared at you for a moment before he nodded.
"Yeah, yeah I think that might work a little bit better than me staring at the same paragraph for fifteen minutes without actually reading anything."
"What part are you on?" you asked Kaminari, moving to glance over his shoulder at the page.
"Portia is trying to convince Brutus to tell her what's going on in her house. I think."
"Oh, I adore this part," you muttered, mostly to yourself. "Alright, what has you stuck?"
"This part. 'I grant I am a woman; but withal A woman well-reputed, Cato's daughter. Think you I am no stronger than my sex, Being so father'd and so husbanded? Tell me your counsels, I will not disclose 'em: I have made strong proof of my constancy, Giving myself a voluntary wound Here, in the thigh: can I bear that with patience. And not my husband's secrets?' I don't entirely understand what she's saying."
Wow, English must've been his thing, he didn't mess up a single word, and he was able to read it fairly fluently, everything considered. It might have taken him a little longer than normal, but he had nailed it.
"Okay, so she's basically telling Brutus that she won't tell his secrets if he tells her what's going on, it doesn't matter if she's a woman or not."
"What was with the voluntary wound thing?"
"So, it depends. Sometimes, in plays, the women playing Portia will have a fake knife and stab themselves in the thigh, other times they pretend to slice themselves, depends on the director," you told him. "She basically cut herself on the thigh and said, 'If I can handle this I can handle whatever's going on inside your head.' Do you understand?"
"Yeah, but damn, this woman is a badass," Kaminari said, staring down at the pages."
"Right? Some people read that as psychotic, but it's Shakespeare," you told him, "everything in Shakespeare is psychotic to some extent."
"That's fair. Thank you for explaining that to me," he said.
"Of course, that is why you came to me," you replied, laying a hand on his shoulder for a moment before you moved back to your seat.
Kaminari, despite the things you had heard, was actually quite intelligent, it just took him a little longer to get the answer sometimes.
"Thank you so much for helping me," Kaminari murmured. "You were super helpful."
"Of course, I actually enjoyed helping you," you told him. "And if you need any more help, please, let me know."
"I will, thank you so much (Y/L/N)," Kaminari repeated.
"Have a good night Kaminari," you told him.
"You too!" he chirped before he headed up to his room.
You sat down at the table again, staring at the chemical formula in front of you.
So, if zinc only had one charge, positive two, and it was combined with thiosulfate, that meant that there shouldn't be the need for two of the zinc atoms, they would make the charge neutral.
You wrote the answer down, checking the textbook to make sure you were right. Polyatomic ions were a little more complicated than monoatomic ions.
There were only a few more questions, and then you could go to bed too, and you just hoped that there were no trick questions.
You were the last one in the common room, as usual, despite assuring Iida that you were right behind him when he went to bed an hour ago.
"Alright (Y/F/N), time for some good sleep," you muttered, shutting your book and gathering your supplies.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You had been tutoring Kaminari for about six weeks, and he was definitely smarter than people gave him credit for. Sometimes he just needed a few minutes to think, or he needed something explained to him in a different way than everyone else.
Sero had been joining your little tutoring sessions too, and you had started doing them in Sero's room, since there were things Kaminari could mess with while he studied, and it was an environment where he didn't feel the need to prove himself.
"Hey, (Y/L/N), can you help me with this problem?" Sero asked, waving you over.
"Of course, what are we working on?" you inquired.
"Polyatomic ions, again," Sero said. "I need this extra credit."
"Alright, which one are you stuck on?"
"How do I figure out which Roman numeral goes here? Gold has multiple charges."
"You work backwards," you told him. "When you look at the formula, you need to figure out what charge dihydrogen phosphate has."
You gestured to the chemical formula.
"It has a negative one charge. Right?" Sero inquired, checking the list of common ions that the teacher had given them at the beginning of the unit.
"Right, and you have three of those ions, right?"
"Yeah, because there's a subscripted three outside the parentheses."
"So you have three of those, which means that those three together have a negative three charge."
"Right."
"So now you just have to figure out which gold variant has the right charge to cancel that one out."
"Well, there's only one gold atom, so it's gold three right?"
"Bingo, you got it."
"Oh, that makes it so much easier than what I was doing," he muttered, erasing the math he had been doing, writing down the way you had just shown him.
"(Y/L/N), can you come read through this essay for me?" Kaminari asked. "I think it's okay, but I need another eye on this."
"Sure, hand it over," you told him, taking the papers that he had handed to you.
You grabbed one of your signature blue pens and uncapped it, ready to mark anything you thought he could do better.
There wasn't as much as you were expecting. While Kaminari had a hard time interpreting things, once he understood, he was golden. He had a way with words, you noticed as you scanned through the paper he needed to hand in next class. You assumed that it gave him time to think about the right phrasing of things.
Other than a few grammatical and spelling errors, the paper was well written, and there was nothing major that needed fixing.
"Good job Kami, this is really good," you told him, ruffling his hair lightly.
He responded well to physical affection and praise, you had also noticed, and he made it easy.
Once you got past the typical shield he threw up, he was a nice guy with insecurities, just like everyone else.
He chuckled, leaning into your hand.
You noticed that the others didn't touch Kaminari as much as you did, despite having known him for much longer. They were worried about getting shocked, Sero had told you.
"Why though? He's never shocked me," you had told him.
"He can't control it sometimes, it builds up in his body and it needs an out."
"Well, that still no reason to stop touching him," you had mused. "If he shocks me he shocks me, it's really no big deal."
Kaminari had only shocked you once, during a thunderstorm when there had been a lot of lightning outside. He had gotten excited about getting a 90 on one of his tests, and had hugged you, giving you a slight shock.
He had apologized profusely, but you had waved his apologies off.
"It's okay Kaminari," you told him. "It happens to all of us sometimes."
You were finding yourself thinking about him more than you should've. You had become good friends with both him and Sero, and the other students had started coming to you when they had a question, but Kaminari was a little different.
It had started out with the flirty comments, but slowly those had turned into real compliments. He had been keeping Mineta away from you more and more, and he had even started laying off the perving with the grape rat.
He was a good guy, he really was, despite the playboy attitude. He was sweet, and he was just like every other person in the world.
"Thanks for tutoring us both," Kaminari said as the session was coming to a close.
"Yeah, you're really saving our asses," Sero agreed.
"Of course, come to me any time," you told them both, smiling as you made to head back to your own room.
"Hey, um, (Y/L/N), can I ask you something?" Kaminari asked.
"Sure. You know how much I love questions," you teased, smiling at him. Then you noticed his expression. "Kami?"
"Will . . . will you-" he chuckled awkwardly, messing with the seam of his pant leg. "Can you read something to me?"
"Yeah, of course," you said. "What is it?"
He handed you the book, and you smiled.
"My dad used to read this to me when I was little. I think that's why I love books so much," you admitted. "That was before . . . well, it doesn't matter now. Come on, we can head down to the common room if you want. Or your room, it doesn't really matter to me."
You had visited Kaminari's room on more than one occasion to return things to him, he tended to be a little forgetful, and he had often left things with you.
Despite the fact that everything you had learned about society told you that you should avoid being alone in a room with a boy, you trusted Kaminari enough to be alone in a room with him.
"I really like to read too," he confessed. "But sometimes my brain doesn't like to let me do it."
"I understand, it's okay," you told him, touching his arm lightly. "Are you sure that you'll be able to sit still long enough for me to get through any of it?"
Kaminari, after spending so much time with you over the last few weeks, had figured out how your voice worked, and he rarely got offended by your tone of voice anymore, which you were thankful for.
"Yeah, I like the sound of your voice, it helps calm me down. I think I might pay attention more if you read it to me."
"Alright, sure, let's go," you said, holding the book to your chest.
You knew this book like the back of your hand, and you had a feeling that Kaminari was telling the truth when he said he would be able to pay attention.
Kaminari followed you into the common room of the dorms, trailing just slightly behind, but he was in front of you the moment Mineta tried to get to you.
It amazed you how fast he could move sometimes, when he really wanted to.
"Get lost Mineta," you said. "I have nothing to say to you."
Mineta opened his mouth but a raised brow from Kaminari had him shutting it and heading to his own room so he could think his pervy thoughts in peace.
"I can't believe I was ever friends with that perv," Kaminari whispered. "I think I owe a lot of the girls apologies."
Kaminari glanced over his shoulder, and you smiled at him, linking your hands together.
You were proud of him, he had really grown lately, and you were glad that he was seeing how uncomfortable he had made the girls.
"I'm proud of you," you told him, and he beamed.
He responded well to praise, and being told that he had done a good job.
"Come on, we'll have to go to bed soon if we don't want Iida to lecture us again," you said, sitting down on one of the couches.
Kaminari sat down next to you, leaning his head on your shoulder as your propped the book open.
You didn't mind the fact that Kaminari was a little clingy, the contact was nice, and he always radiated warmth, though whether that was his normal body temperature or he ran hot because of his quirk, you didn't know.
You started the book off, barely having to look at the words as you read, changing your voice as necessary, stopping every once in a while to explain a word to Kaminari that he didn't understand, or to answer a question that he had.
It was nice, spending time with him like this, simply because he wanted to, not because he was going to fail a subject.
Somehow he had ended up with his head on your thighs, and you had one hand buried in his hair, brushing it away from his face, your fingers carding through it softly.
He was making a content noise in the back of his throat, and you smiled down at him, finishing up a chapter.
"Do you want to go to bed?" you asked softly, not wanting to disturb him too much, he had enough trouble sleeping as it was.
He hummed softly, leaning into your hands, and you smiled down at him softly.
You had never been one for crushes, they had seemed pointless, and there had never been a person who had caught your attention like this.
You had thought about it, of course, what it would be like to be in a relationship, but you had never thought that you would have to worry about it.
Well now you were worrying about it.
That nameless, faceless person that had been with you in those daydreams was starting to look frighteningly like Kaminari.
You had panicked when it had first started happening, until you realized that it would probably fade. You had had a friend in middle school who had a new crush every week, and you had assumed that it would fade with time.
It hadn't. That uneasiness that had popped up around him slowly melted into a nice warmth whenever he was close. You had started to stop worrying about whether he would like this, or hate that, and had started to show your true colors.
He had seemed to like you even more when you had started doing that, and you were glad.
But the only bad thing was that now you were noticing other things. His hands lingered a little longer than necessary when he helped you during training, his smile always seemed brighter when you made him laugh. His eyes always seemed to follow you around the common room, and he sometimes appeared at your side when you walked in.
You weren't sure if you just overthinking things or if he might like you back.
But this wasn't a simple crush anymore. You weren't sure what it was. It was a little too early to be love (even though it was just a rush of chemicals in the brain meant for human survival), but it was way past a simple crush.
Was there another step between a crush and love? Was this going to end with your heart breaking? Was there even a chance that he might like you back?
These were things that you kept in the back of your mind until you were alone in your room. Worrying about them in his presence made him worry about you, and you didn't want him to worry about you if he didn't need to.
"Kami, seriously, you need to go to bed."
"If I do, so do you," he told you, making you chuckle.
"I'll go to bed if you will. You are in my lap after all," you teased, pulling your hands away.
"That's fair," he murmured, stifling a yawn.
"Go to bed Kami," you whispered, standing up as soon as your legs were free.
They had fallen asleep a while ago, but you hadn't had the heart to move him.
"Alright," he mumbled, stumbling towards his dorm room.
You smiled softly, heading for yours.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You weren't sure what woke you up hours later. Maybe it was the three glasses of water you had drank before bed, or maybe it was the fact that your brain hated you almost as much as Kaminari's hated him.
You stretched, pulling a hoodie on over the tank top and shorts that you had gone to bed in, heading for the common room.
You weren't going back to bed any time soon, so you might as well get some studying done with a nice cup of tea or something.
You were almost surprised to see Kaminari sitting at the common room table with his books out.
"Denki? What are you doing?" you mumbled, wandering over.
"(Y/L/N)? What are you doing up?"
"I could ask you the same thing," you murmured, plopping into the seat next to him.
"Couldn't sleep, my brain went into overdrive the minute I tried to fall asleep."
"I at least got a good four or five hours in," you replied. "But it's Friday night, I should be sleeping in."
"What woke you up?" he asked, laying a hand on your thigh.
Kaminari, you had noticed, liked having his hands on you.
Not in the perverted way you had expected though. He liked having a hand on your thigh or on the small of your back. He liked an arm around your shoulders or his arm linked with yours when you all took class outings. He liked being close to you.
"No idea. It might've been a nightmare," you admitted. "I remember faint flashes, but it might've been something else."
"Are you going to be able to go back to bed?"
"Nah, I'll be up for a good while," you told him, leaning into his shoulder.
"Anything I can do to help?" he asked.
"Can you just . . . talk to me?" you inquired. "I like listening to you talk about things. Calms me down."
"What do you want to know about?"
"Anything. Everything. You."
"Did you know that I have a cat named Marshmellow?"
"What? No," you said, perking up a little bit. You had always been an animal person.
"Yeah. He's the spawn of the devil, but I didn't know that when I named him. All white, pretty blue eyes. Pure fucking evil," Kaminari told you, taking his phone out to show you a photo.
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah, he absolutely despises me," Kaminari said, handing his phone over to you. "Loves my sister though, so he isn't a complete psychopath."
"He's a cat, can animals even be psychopaths?" you asked, moving your seat closer to his.
"No idea, but it wouldn't surprise me if he is," Kaminari said, chuckling.
"You're right, he is pretty," you murmured, flipping through the photos quickly.
Kaminari hummed, but when you glanced up he was looking at you.
He had that look on his face, the look that he sometimes got when he looked at you. It was one of the reasons you wondered if he liked you or not. He looked like he was in pain when gave you that look.
"Denki?" you inquired softly.
"Hmm?"
"Why are you looking at me like that? Like you're in pain? Like you're hurt?" you asked.
You didn't like the way your voice sounded. That little hint of insecurity snuck in, your voice had that clogged sound it got when you tried not to cry.
You weren't sure whether you could handle his response to that, but you needed to know if being around you caused him pain. You needed to know if there was any chance that he hated being in your presence.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(Kaminari's POV)
Pain, huh?
Yeah, this was definitely pain, seeing her like this, swaddled in a hoodie he had left in her room accidently a week ago, covering her shorts, making her legs look a mile long.
He had tried to ignore it, tried to ignore the feeling in his chest every time he looked at her, tried to ignore the blatant male pride that came with seeing her draped in his hoodie, but he was only human after all.
Denki, after spending so much time with a girl that didn't tend to pull her punches, he knew how uncomfortable he had made the girls with all of his comments. He now knew how it made them feel when he said some of the things he had.
Denki never wanted her or any of the other girls to feel like that again, and he wanted to ignore some of the things that were running through his head, but she was making it hard when she looked at him like that, when she said his name the way that she just had.
"Denks?" she asked softly, moving to get a better look at his face.
Denki had never had a crush, not a real one anyway. He had had his eyes on Jirou first year, but that had been fleeting.
He was flirty, it was just his nature, but this feeling whenever he looked at her . . . that was completely new on him.
"Denki, are you okay?" she asked, putting her hands on his face lightly, making him look at her.
"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" Denki asked, placing his hands over hers. "I wasn't sure whether you felt the same way and I didn't want to mess anything up."
"Denki? What are you saying?" she asked, eyes bright with hope as she looked at him, running her thumb over his cheek softly, almost absentmindedly.
"I like you, (Y/F/N), I like you a lot, and this isn't some . . . three A.M. spur of the moment confession, but . . . it kind of is. The point is that you're smart, and all kinds of gorgeous, and there's so many things about you I wish I could list, but words aren't my thing, and I know that I'm rambling, but I really can't stop 'cause I'm terrified of what your response is gonna be and I don't want to fuck anything up and-"
"Denki," she cut in, smiling at him the way she did when she was fondly exasperated with him. "You have nothing to worry about. Absolutely nothing. I like you too."
"Why?"
Even Denki was surprised by the amount of confusion in his own voice.
"Because you're a dork," she stated. "Because you're smart, even if people don't always see it right away. Because you want to be a hero, because you like to make a difference. Because in the end, you're a good guy, when you get past the playboy attitude and shitty pickup lines. Because you're cute and all kinds of soft. Because apparently I have a thing for hyperactive morons with screwed up hair."
"Rude," he muttered, but she smiled at him even wider, and he knew that it was worth it.
"Am I wrong?" she asked softly, swinging her legs around to get closer to him.
"No, but that doesn't mean that I'm happy about it," he mumbled, pouting slightly.
She gave a small giggle, something that rarely happened, and Denki smiled, wide and unburdened.
"So, what do you say about going on a date?" he asked, tucking her hair behind her ear to get a better look at his face.
"I think that's the smartest thing you've ever said to me," she teased.
Denki pouted again and she touched his nose lightly, making it crinkle in response.
"That wasn't a no," she told him, wrapping her arms around his neck softly.
"You know, this looks good on you," he whispered, touching the hem of the hoodie carefully. "And it looks very familiar."
"It does?" She pulled away to look down at it and her eyes went wide. "I didn't even know it was yours. I just threw it on on my way down here. When did you even . . . .?"
"I left in there like a week ago," Denki informed her. "I thought you had just kept it."
"I didn't know it was in there," she admitted. "But I'm not sorry that I'm in it, it's very comfortable."
"We can share custody," he murmured.
"We'll have to," she agreed. "I don't think I can deal with never wearing this again. You actually have good taste in hoodies."
"Why are you so surprised by this?" he asked.
"Because most of the time your style seems all over the place," she replied. "But that's not a bad thing. It makes you unique."
"Normal is overrated."
"A normal sleep schedule is not," she said, standing up. She grabbed his hands, pulling him to his feet. "Come on, we can chill in my room if you want to."
"You aren't nervous about having me in there?" Denki asked.
"No, because I know that if you try anything I can knock you on your ass. I also trust you," she told him, linking their fingers together softly. "Is this okay?"
"More than okay," he breathed, stepping close enough to brush their shoulders together.
He could get used to this.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(Your POV)
It was a rare day when you and Denki got a day off together. Being heroes was tiring, and schedules were always weird, so when you both got a day off together, you always spent them together.
"You're up early," Denki murmured, slipping in behind you from where you were sitting on the window seat of your apartment.
He wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his face in your neck.
"The baby woke me up," you said.
Said baby padded into the roof, tail high in the air, a smug look on that cute furry face as he jumped up onto the seat, curling up in your lap.
"Marshmellow, don't lay on my book," you muttered, pulling the book out.
"Told you, he's fuckin' evil," Denki murmured, kissing your shoulder lightly.
His shirt was slipping off your shoulder, and Denki treated uncovered skin like a target, regardless.
"How long have you been up?" he asked.
"Only an hour or two, and you looked so peaceful, I felt bad waking you up. I know that you've been getting more action than I have these last few weeks," you murmured, taking one of his hands, kissing his palms softly, leaning back into his warmth.
"I love you," Denki hummed.
"I love you too Denks," you told him.
"Read to me?" he requested, and you smiled.
"Always," you replied, finding your spot in your book again.
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prohibitionincurls · 3 years
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Value Isn’t Always Numeric
 This fic is for the wonderful @spencstan who posted something about writing a short fic in which Leo has Dyscalculia, a learning disability which, according to my sister (who is both Dyscalculic and Dyslexic, as well as Dysgraphic) is, in the simplest terms, “like Dyslexia but instead of letters its numbers. Algebra is my worst fucking nightmare.” I myself do not have dyscalc. but have watched my sister deal with it her whole life, as well as having a few fun learning disabilities of my own (can I get a debilitatingly chronic ADHD from the crowd!) While I probably won’t continue to write Leo as dyscalc in later fics, representation is crucial. Also this is just a fic and so it doesn’t fit with Haz’s canon. Also also, the actions of some of the characters may make them seem like the bad guys, that is not the intention at all, but it maybe helps highlight that even saying some normal shit may really hurt someone without you knowing it. Always double check and love ur homies unconditionally. But, to all my wonderful friends who kick ass despite some nerological fuckery, I tip my hat to you, but I cannot take it off because if I do I will put it down and never remember where the fuck I put it. 
all characters belong to the incredible @lumosinlove
It was only required that Moody know about various health conditions of players. Sometimes Remus and Coach would be told too, obviously, if it was something that could affect their play. But for smaller things, it was simply listed on the paperwork and that was that. Things like, ‘Sirius Black: pollen allergy’ or ‘Finn O’Hara: minor astigmatism’. So, no one needed to know that there was a file that said ‘Leo Knut: Dyscalculia.’
Dyscalculia is an umbrella term, referring to a condition in which the brain struggles with numerical information, including math, applying numerical theory, problem solving, or everyday situations involving numbers. It meant a whole slew of problems people might not even think about. 
Getting drafted out of High School had been as much of a relief as it had been a dream. Leo never felt like college was in the cards for him, at least not in a way where he wouldn’t be miserable. He had barely scraped through enough Algebra to graduate, and he wasn’t sure how he would have survived the Gen. Ed requirements for math he would have had to take. He knows if push came to shove he would have gone. He would have dealt with feeling not good enough and struggled through his classes, but realizing he wouldn’t have to lifted so much off of his shoulders. Hockey felt like it was safe. Leo knew he was good at hockey, knew the rules, knew how things worked. He knew he wouldn’t have to analyse stats, he knew he just had to play in a way that would make the ones associated with him, and his team, better. 
He knew he wouldn’t have to tell his team either. They wouldn’t have to know that if you asked him to factor an equation he might actually break down in tears. They didn’t have to know how many times he would have to read over a word problem to finally get what it was asking. He wouldn’t have to feel stupid, like he felt sitting in a classroom surrounded by people who didn’t have to remind themselves over and over about the way the numbers should be set up, which numbers are greater than others, or how to finally figure out an answer. 
It felt beyond shitty to realize that it didn’t take a math class to remind him that he wasn’t smart enough. All it took was a few numbers and basic expectations that he couldn’t seem to meet. 
He knew Coach hadn’t meant anything by it. Honestly, it wasn’t the first time an adult had chided him for it, but normally he could brush it off. He told himself he didn’t care what they thought, that they were just poking fun at him, that it didn’t matter. Of course, they weren’t aware that it ran deeper, that it hurt a lot more than they thought it would. It wasn’t their fault. 
It didn’t mean it hurt any less when Coach chirped him for not being able to read the analog clock at the rink. In fact, it hurt more. He knew Coach was chirping himself as much as Leo, saying that ‘back in his day they didn’t have electronic clocks! You had to know how to read a real one!’ He couldn’t quite brush off Coach’s words, because they came from someone who he cared about. He did care what Coach thought, and the fact that he didn’t know what he was doing to Leo didn’t change the fact that it felt like he was twisting a knife each time. 
Sirius unknowingly twisted that knife when he made fun of him for not being able to understand a 24 hour clock. Remus did it when he called Leo out for forgetting the dates of a roadie, having switched around the numbers for the month and day. Kasey when he yelled “Christ, Knutty, your OTHER left.” Nado and Kuny when he would accidentally mix up their numbers. James when he tried to give Leo Lily's number and ended up just typing it into the phone himself because Leo kept making him repeat it. Even Natalie, when he accidentally ended up at the wrong place because he mixed up their street number, 344 instead of 433. 
He knew he wasn’t ‘dumb.’ He could tell you a million and a half things about any kind of history, as long as you didn’t ask him for dates. He could write essays that would make even the toughest english teacher grade about a 90. And he knew that it wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t quite get numbers, knew that his brain had placed a few permanent neurological hurdles that others didn’t have to deal with. It didn’t stop him from feeling stupid sometimes, though. 
The knife finally twisted too much and too far and too hard for Leo to handle one night at a team dinner. They had grabbed the check and the waitress had handed it to Leo. 
“I’ll split it,” James said, teasing smile on his face, reaching over and plucking it from Leo’s hands. “If we let Knutty do it we’ll be here all night.” Leo tried to laugh along with the team as they each paid and stood to leave. They swung open the door, still chirping at Leo about the check. The cold night air hit him first, and then Dumo’s words came crashing right after it. 
“Knutty, mon fils, maybe college would have done you some good, eh?” He ruffled his hair and walked away, Leo moving with Logan and Finn towards the car. He didn’t know what would happen if he opened his mouth, so he kept it shut the whole ride home. 
As Finn opened the door to their apartment, Logan grabbed his hand before he could move away and pulled him into the living room, onto the couch beside him, and placed a hand on either side of his face. 
“What’s wrong?” he asked quietly. 
Leo didn’t cry, to his surprise. He just let out a breath and looked down. 
“I thought that maybe I was finally done being the dumbest person in a room. Thought maybe it wouldn’t matter playing hockey. I guess it still does.” 
Logan gave him a look.
“Is this because of what James said? Or about what Dumo said about college? Leo love, you didn’t go to college because you got drafted to the NHL, that doesn’t mean you’re stupid - ”
“Even if I hadn’t been drafted,” Leo stopped him mid sentence. “Even if I hadn’t been drafted, college with Dyscalculia isn’t exactly ideal. I don’t know if I would have been able to do it. Or, I guess I would have had to, but I don't know.” He takes a breath. “I thought maybe it wouldn’t matter now, but the world is full of fucking numbers and I cannot seem to wrap my head around them, no matter how hard I try. And I know, I know my learning disability doesn’t make me stupid, or whatever, but it still feels like shit sometimes. I’m sorry I never mentioned it before but I just desperately want it to not matter anymore.” Leo looked between them with pleading eyes, only to be met with love colored brown and hazel. He finally collapsed into Logan's chest. 
  “Leo, baby,” Logan whispered against his ear. “You don’t have to go to college to be smart. And a degree doesn’t always mean you're smart either. Baby, you, me, and his Harvard Diploma all watched Finn burn soup the other day.” Finn made an offended noise. 
“It was more difficult to make than I thought it would be!”
“The directions were on the can!”
Leo pressed into Logan's shoulder, a smile creeping onto his face. Finn’s hand reached over and tilted his head up, brushing away the hair that had fallen into his eyes. 
“Leo baby, everyone has their strengths. Logan and I can’t cook our way out of a paper bag. I have two left feet everywhere but the ice and you heard Logan call the washing machine the dishwasher and then stare at it for six minutes when he realized he had gotten it mixed up and couldn’t remember the english word for it.” 
“Fuck you O’Hara, I don’t see you speaking two languages.”
“The point being,” Finn interrupted, smiling fondly at Logan. “You don’t have to be able to split a check or remember a phone number. That’s what we're here for, just like you’re here to remind me the not light myself of fire, or tell Logan that the word he’s looking for is ‘handle’ and not ‘the twisty bastard attached to the door’, or to read to us, or to remind us things will be ok when we get in our heads. I couldn’t give two fucks about math, you were smart enough to get Logan and I to finally pull our heads out of our asses and finally work things out.” 
Logan places his arms around Leo’s chest and finishes Finn's sentence. “Something that neither of the Harvard educated idiots in this room could figure out how to do for seven years. And not for lack of trying!”
“We absolutely beefed it every single time.”
“Can’t trust us to be emotionally intelligent for shit.”
Leo finally laughed and Logan and Finn smiled. He looked between them, wondering what on earth he did to deserve them. They both squished him between them on the couch, Logan playing with his hair while Finn let him curl up into his side. They were quiet for a moment when suddenly Logan stood up. Both Leo and Finn made a noise of objection, but saw the angry look on Logan’s face.
“Where are you going so mad, Lolo?” Leo asked him, knowing he could get away with the nickname. Logan gave him a look but coninuted towards the door. 
“I know some of the boys went over to Dumo’s after we all left Sid’s,” he stated, reaching for his keys. “I know they didn’t mean to hurt you Le, but that doesn’t mean it’s going to stop me from going over there at giving them a dressing down that Coach would be proud of.” He walked out and closed the door behind him. Leo looked over at Finn with wide eyes, and Finn shrugged. 
“You know Lo, he always needs to do something if someone else is hurting. And if he can’t take all of the numbers out of the world for you, at least he can go yell at a few people, make sure this doesn’t happen again.” 
Leo sighed against Finn. He felt bad for his teammates, an angry Logan was nothing to be fucked with. He felt Finn thread his fingers through his hair. 
“If it makes you feel any better,” Finn started, and Leo looked up at him. “I wouldn’t have been able to split that check either. I may have gone to Harvard, but I’m still a gay english major.”
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A rant of personal experiences and trying to do something positive with them:
Okay so procrastination is a huge thing in ADHD. Same with memory issues. (Not that these are always present and maybe some people experience both without being ADHD).
So. Here’s an experience I’m just now (at almost 40) realizing was a thing:
Imagine a huge essay/report/project requiring a lot of research and several sources was due in a few weeks. The advice was always to break it down, take notes, and make an outline. It made perfect sense. And maybe it does help some or even most people.
But for some, like me, it was still impossibly overwhelming and breaking it down was worse. The project was often boring (especially if I had to ignore a hyperfixation to work on it) and even if it wasn’t, it still felt like A LOT when my brain was full of TV static and my memory was shit.
It takes a ton of repetition for me to even temporarily remember something and even then, it will likely be gone again in a few days. UNLESS I learn by actually doing something or figuring it out for myself. And my brain gaslights itself like “do I remember that right? No that can’t be right. Let me look it up for the 100th time to make sure.” And I’m WAY more likely to remember concepts or physical processes but completely forget the terms for them or names of things or important dates EVEN FOR MY HYPERFIXATIONS, damnit... Like, I can do a bunch of crafty stuff and even remember some common terms and items but not the less common fabrics or stitch types or tool names. (Yet somehow I could remember the exact location of hundreds of thousands of items of inventory at my craft store job... even if I didn’t know what they were called. But I stocked them and had physical contact with them so I could picture where they were.) The number one overwhelming thing for me about trying to be a pro at anything is trying to remember terms so it sounds like I know what I’m talking about.
Anyway...
Without acknowledging that, I ended up wasting time by trying to schedule research/work in small chunks because every time I stopped then tried to start again, I wouldn’t remember what I did or looked at last time. (Can I also add that this is why being interrupted is infuriating for me? It probably seems irrational to other people but it’s so hard to get focused on something and now my train of thought is derailed, passengers are dead and injured, and it’s going to take who knows how long to revive the survivors?) And maybe that wasn’t so bad the first time because I’d only have to reread one page of notes. But then it would happen a few more times and my focus would be blurred and I’d repeated myself multiple times in the notes and they’d become a mess and look horrible which was distracting and I’d feel overwhelmed by having to reread and now rewrite several pages and focus would be even worse because I did remember some bits and blanked out while looking at those then stay blanked out then I’d have to reread again to catch the parts I didn’t remember.
But.
If I waited until the last minute, when the consequence/reward system overrode how overwhelming or boring the project was, I could burn through it because I was in constant contact with the material and it was all currently on my mind and I could skip writing notes and an outline and go straight to a fairly decent flow-state draft then keep going through revisions and editing all without forgetting WTF I’d researched. And it would be done in so so so much less time with a lot less effort and frustration.
And...
AND
And then there’s the schedule thing and why it DOES NOT WORK for me. If I schedule doing something (or even if someone suddenly wants me to do something right now) and my brain is like, “nah sorry, just static right now,” there’s absolutely nothing I can do to make it work and I’m just going to get frustrated and tired and depressed and discouraged. But if I keep a loose list of things that need to get done and indicate which are priorities, I can look at it and say “yeah. This one seems doable right now.” No I’m not going to get up and vacuum that spot of cat litter at this exact moment but it’s a good idea to do it soon so I’ll add vacuum to the list and probably get it done later the same day. If the cat throws up, that is an immediate priority so I will get up and make sure they’re okay and clean it because my brain does actually recognize things like that as super important. If a bill arrives in the mail, I’ll stop and pay it right away because I know I don’t have to think/worry about it again if I do. But what sucks about that is that society wants and often understandably needs people to work on a schedule. And I just... can’t.
But I’m trying to take this knowledge and apply it, trying to accept that this is how I function. I function based on a system of priorities that get done in order of “absolutely must be done right this second, whether for my own reasons or outside reasons, even if I need to drop other things” to “this is what I CAN do right now.” Not something pre-scheduled. If I need to leave something to the last minute then I’m just going to accept that that’s how it’s going to be and that’s okay. Then I can free up energy and space to do other things in the meantime rather than worry and be anxious and beat myself up because I should be doing the thing and end up hating things I like doing because they’re not what I should be doing and now there’s a negative association with them. No. Screw that. If all I can do today is play a video game then fine. Gonna enjoy it. Because I now know for a fact, from years of experience, that I will do the important things. They just need to wait until I’m capable of doing them. And... if I let myself stop worrying about old WIPs... They get done eventually too. It might take a few years but as long as I don’t actually decide not to do them, they will get done.
All that said... I still want to look into meds because it would be nice to have more of an ability to focus more regularly. I just need to clear up some other medical stuff first and I’ve got appointments already set up for that.
One more thing... I f$&#ing hate the attitude teachers have about doodling in class. It was literally the only way I could focus during lectures and remember anything they were talking about. I could look at what I drew and remember what was being said while I drew it. F$&% every teacher who took away my notebooks or yelled at me for it. Without it, I’d zone out completely. And THANK YOU to the art history teacher and biology teachers I had who not only understood but encouraged it and actually helped me direct it toward the subject matter by suggesting drawing thumbnails of the art or cell structure or anatomy.
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TW:// mentions of death, brief family dynamics mention, losing a friend
For context this happened late last night and I’ve been trying to get as many details as possible here.
Don’t feel obligated to read this. I know it’s long.
I recently had a friend unfriend me and I wanted to vent about that a little bit. This is really long, only read it if you really want to I just really need to talk about it somewhere else.
I am also sharing this stuff so you all understand me a bit better as a person. Because it is even more challenging for me online and I don’t want to lose any more friends, especially online friends because I can’t talk to you all in person.
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They have been known to do this to other people and everyone who it has happened to has still remained on the shit list. They screamed at me for over an hour on the phone because I was “a shit friend these past couple weeks or so.” They cited specific days where I didn’t answer them until later in the day and one specific day where they were stressed with school and wanted me to be there so they could vent and I could help them.
I tried explaining to them what was going on but I just ended up crying (I don’t normally cry a lot if that give you any idea how bad it was) and I didn’t get the words out. Mainly for a reason I’ll explain later but also because they sounded just like my dad when he yells and I just sorta shut down.
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Now they blocked and deleted my number and blocked me on all social media. (Our mutual friends told me.). They apparently told most of our friends what a piece of shit I am and a couple other people blocked me. They wrote a whole fucking essay about it but here’s the sparknotes:
-I go through periods of time where I am not a fun person to talk to, and they like me a lot better when I don’t have an “attitude”.
They specifically cited last year from late summer to winter, you’ll see why this is important.
-last year and this year I’ve “ghosted” people around the holiday season when I know it is rough for some people.
I try to check up on my friends when I know they are going through some shit, I try to send them useful stuff as well, everyone know that.
-I am too overly blunt and honest and not good at helping people with their issues.
I know I’m too blunt and honest , and you know what? I fuck up sometimes, but I usually don’t mean anything by it I’m just trying to help. As for helping people with their issues, if I wasn’t good at it why the fuck did they come to me in the first place.
-I have a perfect life, nothing bad ever happens to me and I’m nothing but a privileged asshole who doesn’t deserve to have a friend like them. I don’t know what it’s like to go through something difficult.
I’m not going to comment on this, I know I’m privileged, but I try to do good things with it.
-I pay way too much attention to my self and I am a “self centered piece of shit for not answering their messages that one day and for not being as fast with my responses as I normally am.”
You’ll see why this was a fucked up thing to say to me in a bit, I’m just writing this out very slowly and trying to avoid that part.
-I talk about myself too much when people come to me with advice, and people “shouldn’t come to me with advice or have to take that bullshit” because I am “undeserving of being in the loop about someone’s personal issues.”
This came up because one of our friends came to me with an issue instead of them. I know I often relate things back to me I didn’t think that was a bad thing because no one told me and that is just how I help myself understand what someone is going through, but I’ll stop doing that.
-Saying things like “I need to remove myself from this area.” Is extremely disrespectful to the rest of our friend group (I literally only go by myself it doesn’t affect them). For context my adhd is extremely severe to the point it’s considered to be a learning disability, what they are referencing is when I leave to go somewhere else because I am overwhelmed and overstimulated. They literally said and I quote “that shit is total fucking bull and you know it, I have adhd too, and I’m saying you’re fucking faking.”
First off they don’t have a formal medical diagnosis, just a suspicion, they haven’t even talked to their doctor about it. Not to mention everyone is different based off of severity and which symptoms are actually present. As part of my testing we opted for the comprehensive test to look at the severity of my adhd before moving on to being treated. In that test they observed me over the course of several hours to see how I reacted to different things. The things that were expected to be the worst symptoms for me were :
difficulty understanding and relating to others (one of my strategies I was told would help is to relate others experiences to mine)
difficulty in communication; reading directly off of my sheet and I quote “Emma was observed having a difficult time using nuance and understanding when was and was not the correct time to say something. Emma’s parents describe her as: extremely blunt to the point where it can be abrasive.”
sensory: specifically when things are too quiet, I also have an issue with overly bright lighting, and when I am very overwhelmed there is only a few people who I will let touch me when I’m “wigging out”
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I know I am privileged, but I really try to use that privilege to do good things and I didn’t know that I act uptight or like a dick in that way. If I do it’s either a joke or not intentional and I apologize.
That being said, just because I am privileged doesn’t mean my life is perfect and it doesn’t mean bad things don’t happen to me, it’s beyond fucked up to think that.
(The color for things related to this)
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A lot of the things they talked about are things they know I am insecure about to begin with and they know I am working on it. Most of them are literal symptoms of my adhd and things I struggle with on the fucking daily. I’m making them a different color so you can see what I’m talking about. Here’s the adhd related color.
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Now. Some of the other things they listed were in direct relation to my grandma passing away. If you know me, you know my grandma and I were very close and she in a way was like a lot like a parent to me. She had cancer and dementia and her health started a major decline in August of 2019, I spent a lot of time with her during this time and I was constantly stressed and worried about her. I didn’t really talk a lot about it because it’s hard for me to think about but I know this friend knew about this for a goddamn fact.
This relates to this because the period of time when I had “attitude” and “wasn’t a fun person to be around” was when we found out she would have 3 months if she was lucky, I spent every day with her during this time. Yeah I think watching someone slowly die and forget who you are is reason enough to be a bit not talkitive or please not.
My grandma died on December 4th 2019. The main reason my friend snapped was because I wasn’t their to help them with their stress on December 4th 2020. (They had screenshots). They yelled at me for over an hour because of the reasons of above and mainly, MAINLY, because I didn’t text them back fast on the anniversary of my grandmas death. I WAS AT THE FUCKING CEMETARY ASSHOLE DONT YELL AT ME FOR NOT RESPONDING RIGHT AWAY.
(This is the color for things related to this)
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I’m sorry this was really long but I’m just having a rough day. I thought I could trust this person and I thought we were ok, I just wish that someone would tell everyone this, but the people that blocked me also blocked my best friends.
If you have a problem with my behavior in any way, please talk to me before something like this happens. And please know that if I seem overly blunt or like I’m trying to steal the spotlight, just know that I don’t mean to and it doesn’t come from a place of malice. I don’t want to lose any more friends.
I know I fuck up, but there is reason behind it, but unfriending someone who you’ve been friends with for 7 years because they didn’t text you back from the cemetary is fucked up, I’m pretty sure anyone can see that much.
High school drama is fucking bullshit, I hate it here.
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bqstqnbruin · 4 years
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Three times he said it as a friend and once as something more
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Hello, hello. I’m still working on the Nick Robertson request but wow I don’t want you to hate me for it because it is actual trash right now and I’m sorry. But I’m also working on B&W part 3, so there’s that!
This was requested from that fluffs prompt list, which I think I’m done with now because honestly, it’s so far deep at this point, and I’m so lazy.
I hope you like it!
46. Why should we date?
47. Because we’re attracted to each other
48. I’m attracted to pie, but I do not feel the need to date pie.
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one
“Next time I see you, I really do expect you to be a professional athlete,” you tell Charlie, the two of you laying on a blanket in his backyard, enjoying the last few hours of sunlight on his last night in town. The next morning, he would be leaving to go to BU to play hockey. It wasn’t even that far, but him not living at home, and you going to school in Vermont meant him no longer driving you to school each morning, you no longer going over with dinner your mom made when she knew he and his parents were running around because of his games, no more walking next door whenever you needed to talk to instead of calling him. The memories would last forever, but those moments were now just part of the past.
“Are you not gonna come see me play at BU at all? What about when we play UVM?” he says, turning his head to look you.
Turning to him, you roll your eyes, “Ok, fine. Then I expect you to be a professional athlete in the next three years.” 
“Whatever,” he says, laughing. 
You sit there in silence, taking in what is probably one of the last moments for a while that you two will be able to spend a lot of time together. 
“Remember how we became friends?” he asks, sitting up. 
You follow suit, laughing at the memory that he just triggered. You were neighbors since your family moved to Weymouth, but you weren’t automatically friends because of it. “Well, duh. We sat across from each other in Family Consumer Science. We, of course, always finished the work early because we’re great, and we played pencil hockey for like thirty minutes before Mrs. Grace yelled at us for distracting the other two at our table.”
“The fact that you ever finished your work fast in that class is still amazing. You get distracted by everything and can’t focus on anything.”
“Yeah, well,” you shrug it off. You sit there thinking of all the other good memories you had with him; sitting across from each other in US history and joking about all the mistakes you made while texting, the nights when you would walk around Boston Common once your parents trusted you out on your own, the last minute Bruins tickets he would get and force you to go along with him to the games.
“Did you ever think about what our lives would have been like if we dated?”
“What?” you ask, shocked. There was no way the two of you would ever date. He was destined to be a professional hockey player, traveling the US and Canada with whatever NHL team wanted him. You could never date someone that wasn’t going to be there when you needed them. And you couldn’t ask him to give up your dream for you. Yes, you were overthinking this, but best case scenario is that you had dated throughout high school and ended things tonight.
“Most people thought we were dating, anyway. What if we actually had?”
“Then we probably would have broken up tonight because long distance relationships from high school never work. Look at Andrea and Eric from last year, she went to Holy Cross and he only went to UConn and they could never make it work so they broke up. Or Josh and Maggie two years ago; he went to Ohio and ended up transferring to UMass so he could be with her and he loved Ohio State.”
“Too bad we never even gave it a chance.”
You look at him, shocked. “Did you want to?”
His only response was shrugging, a smile on his face as he lays back down on the blanket. You stay sitting up, thinking about what he just said. Did he want to date you all this time and never said anything until now? And why the hell would he do something like that anyway? You weren’t going to see him until at least Thanksgiving, which means that now you have to hyper fixate on this one memory until you see him again. 
“Hey,” he says, snapping you out of it.
“Yeah?”
  “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” 
two
Your phone lights up, causing you to tear your eyes away from the essay you had been writing that’s due in a few hours. Due to your great talent for procrastinating, you were, of course, finishing the paper at the last minute. The picture of you two in the Coyle’s front yard on your first day of school in six grade shows up on your screen, meaning Charlie was calling you. It had been forever since the two of you last talked; with you being in school and him trying to make it as a hockey player in Minnesota, your schedules never gave you a free moment to talk for more than a passing moment. 
“Hey, stranger,” you say, not hiding the smile on your face even though you were out in public. You hated showing any sort of emotion that would provoke someone to come up to you and start talking to you, but seeing Charlie’s name come up on your phone with something other than a text automatically made you smile. 
“Stranger? You know who I am.” You could tell by his voice that he was jokingly acting offended. 
“Yeah, you’re Zach Parise, right?” you tease.
You hear the laugh you miss so much on the other end, “How have you been?”
“Uh, stressed, lately, so nothing new.”
“Why?”
“Homework, papers, and exams.”
“Oh, my.” You both start laughing at the accidental joke he made, “Why so much stuff?”
“It’s midterms, babe.” 
“So I assume that you’re working right now?”
“Yep, it’s eight pm, the paper is due at midnight and I still have four more pages to write.”
` “I’m so glad that your work ethic hasn’t changed since high school.”
“Ok, rude! I have good work ethic, I just also have strong procrastination skills.”
“You probably have ADHD,” he says.
“Well, yes, but that’s a different story.”
“What’s your weekend look like? I want to catch up when you don’t have a lot of work to do.”
“Uh, I should be good.”
“Alright, get back to the paper.”
“I will. Love ya.”
“Love you, too.” 
three
“Oh, come on! We practically live together. You can’t deny that something is going on between us!” Charlie argues, pacing around the kitchen as you make dinner. This conversation between the two of you was becoming a weekly one, slowly getting on your nerves to the point where you would consider moving just to get away from it. 
“Because what happens if we break up? We’ve been friends since we were in middle school. Do you really want to throw all that away?” you say, turning to him, putting your hand on your hip. 
“I just think we should go out as more than friends just once.”
“And how would that be different than all the other times that we go out together?”
“Because then I could do things like hold your hand and flirt with you?”
“I’m like ninety percent sure you already flirt with me.” 
“Y/N.”
“Why should we date, Charlie?”
“Because we’re attracted to each other?”
“And I’m attracted to pie, but I do not feel the need to date pie,” you roll your eyes, turning your attention back to the stove. 
“You’re seriously equating me to pie right now? I have never seen you eat pie, therefore, that argument is invalid.”
“Since when do you say things like therefore, and invalid?” 
“Seriously, Y/N. You know I have wanted to date you since we were in middle school, but something always came up. You know I love you. You know I always have.”
You turn back to him, trying to make eye contact, but something in you just can’t. Your timing was never right. Once you were old enough to date, the two of you were never single at the same time. Actually, that isn’t true. You were both single for a brief period of time while he was playing with the Sea Dogs and you were still at UVM. This was the first time that both of you were single and in the same town. 
“Charlie, you know that I love you, too. But this can not happen. We can’t risk breaking up and ruining what we have.” 
He exhales, obviously disappointed. You were, too, but you couldn’t let that show. You wanted nothing more than to be with him, but you couldn’t let all those years of friendship go away if things didn’t work out between the two of you. “Fine.”
once
“Remember when you wouldn’t date me?” he asks over the sound of everyone around you.
“Remember when you were less annoying?” you roll your eyes. You look around to see so many other couples and families filling in the tables around you. Everyone looked so happy, just like you were. 
You and Charlie had been together now for a year, him finally wearing you down and convincing you to let him take you on a date. He promised you that even if you stopped dating, your friendship would never end because, at this point, you were in too deep anyway. He told you he had this whole evening planned for your anniversary, complete with a walk around the Boston Common like you used to do when you were kids, dinner at Terramia, your favorite restaurant, and for dessert, he was taking you to Mike’s Pastries for the cannoli you loved so much. 
“No, never,” he smirks, reaching out across the table to take your hand.
You had to admit, all the things he had said trying to convince you to date him were right; nothing was really that different between the two of you besides the intimacy that wasn’t there before. “You’re never letting me live that down, are you?”
“No.” 
You roll your eyes at him. You didn’t want to inflate the ego of the man who didn’t even know how to use the oven by telling him he was right that you two dating was fine. 
“Hey,” he says, like that last night before he went off to college.
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
You smile, thinking back to all those times you told each other those three words, them meaning something completely platonic. “I love you, too.” 
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combat-wombatus · 3 years
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uHm if you do these and if you want to do it I’d love a bnha matchup <3?
• my name is Aubri, I’m bi but prefer MHA boys tbh. I go by she/her, too.
• I’m a very Gryffindor person. (Sorry if you don’t know Harry Potter - 😖)
• I’m a June cancer, and I have ADHD and anxiety. My anxiety can be literally crippling somedays, but it’s gotten better overtime.
• I’m a bit of a class clown and usually just a clown 🤡 but that’s irrelevant. My teachers all hate me but like school-wise I do well so we have a love and mostly hate relationship 🤧
• I’m usually the ‘entertaining’ friend, in elementary the popular kids would invite me to play games with them because, “you’re funny” and it was like the biggest achievement ever 😭👍🏻 then they’d ignore me but that’s another therapy session
• I’m usually made fun of by people for being ‘weird’ and ‘insane’. Like all through elementary everyone thought I’d be a criminal when I grew up JUST BECAUSE I HAD UNDIAGNOSED ADHD - I hate it here 😐🦶🏻
• I’ve always been super into crime stories/true crime (where my anxiety comes from, I’m always worried about a pesky serial killer just killing me. It’s usually being kidnapped tho lmao) so I knew and still know like all these murder facts and sometimes I’d just randomly be like;
“Hey did you know it takes 12 hours and 2 days to dissolve a body in acid?”
or
“If you bury a dead deer over a dead body you buried deep in the ground, when police dogs sniff it and people dig they’ll just think it was the deer and won’t dig any farther.”
• So maybe people had a reason to be scared of me and think I’ll be a criminal someday, i dunno.
• I love love love reading and writing, and also debating. The things I’ve wanted to be when I grow up are basically: Dog shelter worker, actress, FBI agent, politician, and a writer. But usually I just want to do something that makes a positive impact on people. Like i wanted to be an FBI agent to solve crimes for people. I wanted to be a politican so I could actually help a lot of people. The entertainment industry also seemed like a way to make people happy. Idk, but then I decided I couldn’t be a politican at 10 because they were all corrupt and to be one I would have to be too. 😫🤌🏻 we love some good childhood angst
• the only subjects I’ve ever excelled at are ELA and Social Studies aka History, and Math I can’t do to save my life. ELA comes easy for me and I usually don’t have to work that hard and/or get too stressed over it. But I always get the meanest teachers for some reason. For example, one time I did my final essay for like 30% of my grade in 30 minutes the day it was due and I got an A+ 🦟🦗🦟🦗
• Uhhh id describe myself as a pretty loyal friend, I’m a ride or die type of girl. A story from my childhood that summarizes it pretty well is when I was in 2nd grade my friend wet her pants and she didn’t want to go to the nurse for it alone so I peed my pants so I could go with her and she wouldn’t have to be alone. Like, you know, a professional problem solver
• and I have genuinely attacked people for fucking with my friends but don’t snitch pls 🕳🏃‍♀️💨
• But also just anyone, people at my school tend to come to me with their problems for me to either help solve them by reasoning, or just to confront the other person like the bad bleep I am 😈😈
• I also have a huge daydreaming problem, it’s literally maladaptive daydreaming. So paired with my ADHD I don’t get shit done like ever.
• I have really high empathy levels I guess, like I always say hi to everyone I see on the street, especially if they look sad 😔 I’ve done it ever since I was a little kiddo.
• My fashion sense is very much a preppy/alt style. I wear those ripped tights and fishnets, I also have the MOST BIZARRE JEWELRY- like who allowed me to buy the gummy worm glittery earrings, hmmm???????? and those Mary Janes???????
• But I love crew necks and pleated skirts so I always obide by the National “hoes dont get cold” policy 🇺🇸😫🦅
• I wanna move somewhere someday, I don’t want to stay in America for very long
• I can speak Latin, French, and my native language which is English.
• My music taste varies, but my all-time favorite artists who all of their music they’ve ever put out has been my favorites are, Billie Eilish, Melanie Martinez, and Conan Gray.
• I no-joke have a sign in my front yard that says;
In ✍️ this ✍️ house we ✍️ don’t ✍️ worship Jesus ✍️ but instead ✍️ Melanie ✍️ Martinez
• My favorite shows are MHA (duh), The Promised Neverland, and Malcolm in The Middle.
• and I’m not going to tell you what I prefer in a partner, because that ruins the fun 😤
• but I will say I cannot be friends with someone who doesn’t really make me laugh. Like I’m used to doing most of the talking in convos but if you’re just boring I’m sorry it’s nothing personal but no thanks 😐✌🏻
• About my physical appearance, I have fluffy n curly brown hair, but when it’s in the sunlight it looks sort of brown but golden yk?? It’s shoulder length :) I have bleach blonde streaks in the front. I like wearing eyeliner most days, too. I’m pretty average size/ on the skinnier side. Kinda high key inscure abt my body bc I got flat shamed in elementary EVEN THOUGH I HAVE TIDDIES NOW- whatever 😤🙄. I also have crystal type blue eyes, and I do have fairly big eyes. But, like, not weirdly big. A good big. My cheekbones are ALWAYS PRESENT so sometimes I get called a Tim Burton character but it’s cool ig ☠️☠️ oh and I’m kinda short. I’m 5’3, even though my doctor said I’d be 5’7. I feel like I was either tricked by the doctor or someone just stole my destined height while I was asleep. It’s probably cause I didn’t keep an eye out for Selener 👁 😔😔
• I’m a definite night owl, like all of my energy comes at night which really sucks cuz I can’t do much since everyone else is asleep.
• My love language is touch starved so I’ve never figured it out ✌🏻😗🔫
• but I am an attention whore so idk 😏
• I’m a huge introvert with social anxiety. It isn’t as bad as it used to be cuz I used to not be able to like go to restaurants but now I’m much better.
• I’m a huge history person, mostly like sad history LMFAO. Uh but a lot of my hyperfixations have been on history. Some examples are The Roman Empire, Julius Caesar himself, Anne Frank, The Titanic, the Black Plauge, Helen Keller, Marie Curie, Slavery in the US, Joan of Arc, and just a lot more. I always love talking about these things if someone would let me ramble to them but no one ever does 😖 it also got to a point where for all these subjects I’d go to the library and try to find a book on them but usually I’d either have already read it or I’d read it and know all the information.
• I’m super into Greek Mythology, I have 7 books filled with the stories, I’m going to Greece maybe this summer to see it’s history, and named my hamster Aphrodite but we call her Aphie. I also will talk about this forever and ever if you let me.
• My favorite color is yellow, my favorite food is literally nothing I never have an appetite, my favorite planet is Saturn, favorite song is Tag Your It by Melanie Martinez atm but it changes like everyday.
• Music is a huge safe-space for me if I’m feeling down or having a panic attack. It calms me down n is overall my coping mechanism 💃🏻💃🏻
• Biggest fear is spiders, even looking at one gives me a panic attack and I cannot sleep at all for that night, adding to my insomniac ass 🧎🏻‍♂️🏌️‍♀️
• I’m mature for my age, I don’t exactly like hanging around kids my age and I get along better with older crowds.
• i don’t like conventional dates, (I PROMISE IM NOT TRYING TO SOUND ‘QUIRKY’ AHAHA) I kind of like having a best-friend type partner more so dates that aren’t as romantic as like the movies or a fancy restaurant suite me better. My dream date is playing Monopoly on my bedroom floor 🦧
• Also I hate getting gifts. End of story. If someone gets me a gift like awe that’s nice but never again, I’d prefer to get you one. Especially in a romantic partner 😐 i keep a journal of my friends’ interests and hobbies so I can get them the perfect gifts for their bdays and Christmas’s. Been doing this ever since 4th grade.
• Though I don’t have much actual experience with relationships🧍🏻‍♀️
• I’m a huge believer in ‘family isn’t blood, it’s who you make it’ because I have a pretty shitty family life and my childhood has been trash. My friends are my family to me.
• Also if my friends don’t like my romantic partner ✨ GOODBYE ✨. Sorry girlie, bros before hoes 🦨💨
I was going to put more but I’m so so sorry for how LONG AND COMPLICATED THIS IS- idk if this is a autobiography or a matchup at this point 🤦‍♀️ don’t feel pressured to do this and if matchups aren’t open IM SO SO SORRY LMAO uh yeah ilysm 🦎🎂🧃
OMG ASLDFKJHASLKDJH
🥺 i’m so sorry bby but matchups are closed ;-; my 100 follower event was over while ago (i guess i should’ve specified that in the asks i answered LKSAJHFLKJAHDS SORRY IT’S MY BAD) but you sound so cool?? i had a lot of the same hyperfixations interests (heLLO helen keller was badass AF and the roman empire was messed up but still v cool, anne frank was awesome too) i also may or may not have wanted to be a politician when i was younger alskdjfhalkdhj but now i’m just 🧍🏻‍♀️ lost and anyways you’re amazing >.< love u lots and don’t forget to drink water and eat a lil something hehe :p 
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Hi, Lexi! This is going to be a weird question and pls reply only if you’re comfortable with it. I don’t have an account but I’ve been stalking on your blog quite a while now. I just saw your dyslexia post and I was wondering how dyslexia is for you? I always suspected that I had it myself but I’ve never been diagnosed simply because I didn’t “underperform” in school. ...
(2)  ... In fact I was better than my peers at things such as reading and writing in school but I remember that when I first started reading my mom worked so hard so patiently to get into both. Since she had it herself I think she suspected I might have dyslexia but sadly she passed away so I can’t ask her. ...
(3)  ... I guess my question is this: I love literature, I love learning languages (I can see that you do too from your choice of major!) and I can memorize things easily *if* I’m actually interested in them but I do have my reasons to suspect that I can be dyslexic. My therapist suspects it too but he never delved into that since I didn’t ask. So as someone who loves reading/writing but also is dyslexic, how was your experience? Like I said: only if you’re comfortable talking! ✨
*** 
Hey love! Don’t worry, it’s not a weird question at all. To be honest, a lot of my uni friends and lecturers have asked similar questions (apparently it was pretty damn easy for my lectures to spot I was dyslexic and my friends just think it's odd that I would pick this degree 😂). 
Also, this ended up being a lot longer than I was expecting, so sorry about that. I did try to cut it down as much as possible but I tend to ramble a lot. 😂  
[Edit after posting this; I’m gonna put it under a ‘read more’ because, jesus, this really was longer than I thought and I know not everyone cares about this kinda thing 😂 ]
In my opinion, at least, I think the whole ‘you have to be underperforming to be dyslexia’ is a bad stereotype anyway. I have some mates who have diagnosed dyslexia and they’re always getting top grades in everything. Someone’s ability to read/write/remember stuff isn’t really an indication of their intelligence. 
I’m sorry to hear about your mum, love. She sounded like a great person. And props to her for helping you learn those skills. It’s really tricky, especially if you’re struggling with similar issues. 
I was kind of the opposite, to be honest. My older brother and I were always in ‘special classes’ growing up (my younger sister is the smart one and was in all the ‘advanced classes’). My brother was diagnosed with autism and ADHD pretty young and I was showing similar symptoms so they started testing me for the same things (which is very likely I have both but that’s a whole other situation 🙃). 
In terms of ‘’symptoms’’ for me it’s mostly getting letters like d/b, p/q backwards, words/letters ‘moving’ around, not being able to comprehend basic words/sentences, getting basic grammar mixed up, horrible spelling, getting my left/rights mixed up, etc. 
The biggest issue I have is getting my thoughts out. It becomes very evident in situations like this in which I have to write long pieces of texts. I can formulate the ideas in my head but when I have to write them, everything gets jumbled. Which is fine for thins such as essays and CW pieces that I have the time/energy to edit. But when I’m just trying to have a conversation (kinda like this) things can get a bit messy. 😂
Anyway, throughout primary school, we were both tested for dyslexia each year and were given the extra support the other people with dyslexia had but never officially diagnosed with it. At one point I went through like 6 hearing tests in 4 months (my brother is hard of hearing, so at first they thought the dyslexic symptoms linked to that).
To cut a very long part short; my first secondary school (around 11 years old) was crap and the teachers bulled me a lot because I couldn’t read write or really speak. I ended up moving from that school anyway. But in the end, I think I was about 12 when I taught myself to read in the end. I think I just got fed up with people being twats and so I took out a book from the library (which turned out to be Twilight  😂) and used Google translate to help me sound out the words.
My GCSE (around 15-17 years old) English teacher helped me a lot. She was the first person who came to me and said that I had some decent writing potential but that I clearly needed a lot of help to build on it. For those two years, we would set up mini-lessons after school where I would go and practise writing with her one-to-one and that helped a lot. 
There was some other stuff as well, but I don’t want to let this get too long. 😂 I still struggle with reading a lot, especially now that I’ve picked the French back up, but at this point it’s more about being patient and practising.  
I don’t think I’ve ever had an official diagnosis for it (apart from all of my English teachers saying I have it), but there are tests you can take online for free which can be a good place to start. I know people who have taken the tests, printed them out and took them to the learning support at uni to get help during exams and stuff. 
If there are other people you know of (either irl or online) that you can ask, that could be really helpful. Also, it might be worth bringing it up to your therapist again if that’s something you wanna do. They might be able to give some ideas on how to help with things, or at least point you in the direction of where to get help. 
Like you kind of mentioned above though, finding stuff you’re interested in really helps. After the Twilight thing, I went through a giant reading stage and read pretty much everything in my school's library which helped the general comprehension and spelling. 
Anyway, I hope that answers some of your questions? If you ever wanna talk about stuff like this, then I’m always happy to! I know stuff like this can get really crappy, especially if you don’t have anyone to talk to. And again, sorry this ended up being so long. 😂 😊
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adhd-sorcha · 4 years
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Im trying to get into the medical field and I have a super hard time with adhd. Any advice for getting through all that schooling?
I am soooo sorry I took so long to answer this (good thing you didn’t go on anon!). I have no excuse, I’m just like this.
Before I get into anything, I just want to say that I was only diagnosed a few months ago, so I didn’t go through school consciously coming up with ADHD-busting strategies and there were definitely mysterious difficulties that I’m only now understanding but at the time I never managed to sort (*shakes fist at essay based subjects/exams*). I will tell you what I think were my accidental ADHD-helping techniques though! One other thing, I have predominantly inattentive ADHD ( or formerly ADD) so if you or anyone else are looking for tips on how to stay seated for extended periods or anything like that, I’m afraid I’m no help there. Sorry!! Also, since I don’t know what stage you’re at school-wise, I’ll include things that I found useful in secondary school too, in case it’s useful.
So, in no particular order! (this may get long...)
- Diary, diary, diary: In the schools (primary and secondary) here in Ireland you get given a diary at the start of the year. At the end of every class, the teacher writes up the homework and we copy it into our diaries. Great system!! The diary is only for school so it never needs to leave your school bag, so it should be hard enough to forget. I used to only write short notes, eg. Maths: pg 20, part a-e or something like that. It makes it easy to look through at the end of the day when collecting your books to bring home. I used to look at one line, put those books in my bag, then look at the next line. One at a time. And I often double-checked. It made me slower to get ready to leave than everyone else, but hey! I remembered my stuff! I got myself a diary for college when I moved on. They are soooo helpful. And it’s so satisfying to tick things off as you do them!!
- Have ONE school bag: Might sound weird, but I know people who, in college, just bring whatever handbag matches their outfit that day. No! You’re going to forget to transfer something over. With one bag, you can keep your school diary and pens and student card and things like that in it. They will always be in there. No need to go moving them around, they’ll only get lost if you do that. It just helps to limit the things that you have to remember to bring with you, if your bag is already kind of packed as a default.
- Take advantage of desk/locker space: Keep spare items at your desk/in your locker so that even if you forget to put them in your bag, you’re still covered. Things that I’ve kept at desks/in lockers include: spare pair of glasses, hair ties for labs, spare writing paper (so it doesn’t matter if you forgot your copy!), pens/highlighters/pencils, socks (it rains a lot here, probably not the most relevant...). Absolutely anything that you think you may be likely to forget and is safe to leave at school just keep a spare one already there! (maybe don’t leave valuables...)
- Set your timetable as your lockscreen/homescreen: I’ve never done this one personally. I kept my timetable in my diary. I find it easier to read. But, I know a few people who used to make out their timetable in Word or something and set that as the lockscreen on their phone. People tend to keep their phones somewhere that’s easy to reach, so it shouldn’t conflict too much with executive dysfunction or anything like that.
- Routine: Having a set routine can really help with getting homework done. It becomes a habit and so a certain amount becomes automatic. I used to do mine as soon as I got home from school/college. And I had a set time for when to start my work at the weekends.
- Bring the lecture slides to lectures: I assume this will vary by college, but our lecturers used to post their lecture slides to the class site before the lecture so you could bring them to class. You could either bring the pdf on a tablet/laptop or print them off. (If you’re using a tablet/laptop you can always download the notes when you get there so it’s okay if you forgot to do it before class!). I found these helpful because I only had to make note of the extra information that the lecturer said out loud or I could just highlight important words, thereby limiting the amount I actually had to write. When I just had blank paper, I was always trying to write everything for some reason and just became lost...
- Make study notes that suit you! I remember being shown in school how to make notes when studying. But I found the standard neat lines, black/blue pen that teachers wanted didn’t work for me. They were boring to look at so they were boring to use. So I made them interesting! I used lots of colourful pens, sticky notes just to create little ‘boxes’, scribbled in the margins, drew labelled diagrams instead of putting some things into words. People would actually ask from time to time how I studied from them XD Study notes are one of those things that we’re taught how to do, but there really isn’t a one size fits all approach to it, so don’t be afraid to do different things with your notes. I used mind maps to study history in school! Here’s an example of my 3rd year pharmacology notes (believe it or not there isn’t any colour-coding XD I just went with what was fun!). 
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- Have a study buddy: This seriously helped me when I moved from school to college. The two girls I became friends with in first year were so much better at organising study and assignment work between lectures than I was. They’d just automatically go to the library to get stuff done between lectures so I went with them and just worked on whatever they were working on. Having them around kept me on track. We did this informally (by which I mean I’ve only recently come to realise that copying their behaviour is why I got through my first two years so well, they have no idea that that’s what I was doing XD), but you could always formalise something like this with someone. There is no shame in needing someone to help you organise your study or needing someone around to work on assignments together.  You don’t have to do education on your own.
- Have multiple study places: I know study advice normally says have one dedicated location for study, but that gets so boring. I might be able to study at my desk in my room this month but then it gets boring and I can’t study. So, I have multiple dedicated locations for study. My desk at my room, the main college library, library on a different campus. People with ADHD like novelty, so sometimes I find having a change in study scenery can help focus on work!
- ASK FOR HELP: To be fair, this is one I still struggle with myself. But honestly, so many problems can be solved so easily if you just tell someone about them. Can’t remember when that exam is happening? Ask. Don’t know how to make that application/do that assignment? Ask. What did those instructions even mean? Ask. Forget where that office is? Ask. So many educators, particularly at third level, genuinely want their students to do well, but they can’t help if they don’t know you need it. I know for myself I don’t want people to know how disorganised or confused I get so I put off asking questions, but the sooner you ask, the sooner the problem gets fixed!
- If you need to do something differently, do it differently: Before I started my leave I was starting to realise that my having ADHD meant that I would have to do things differently to my neurotypical labmates. I was going to need to write more reminders of basic things for myself and stick them all over my bench. I was probably going to generate data more slowly than them because time management and organisation is difficult for me. I was going to need to have a detailed protocol next to me at all times instead of knowing the procedure off by heart like the rest of them. The neurotypical way is not the only way. Doing something differently does not make it wrong.
- Be kind to yourself: The education system is tough enough on it’s own, but those of us with ADHD have some extra obstacles in our way. There really is no point in comparing yourself to someone who doesn’t have ADHD (or similar problems) and berating yourself for not getting as much done as them or doing something slower etc etc. Don’t let ADHD limit you by any means, just remember that the route to success looks different for different people.
I think I’ll stop it here. This is getting quite long! Like I said, I’m newly diagnosed so there are things that I’m still struggling with myself (time-management is a big one!! I am 100% unqualified to give people advice on that one!!) and the things that I have done well have been more lucky accident than anything else. I hope these are somewhat helpful? Feel free to ask anymore questions though! And I wish you the best of luck with getting into medicine!!
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demigodsanswer · 4 years
Text
Hazel Levesque: Into the Prophecy-verse pt. 1
Time for the prologue to an AU I’ve wanted to write for a long time and need to finally get out of my brain. Hazel is a little OOC in this, but that’s because it’s an AU where she grows up in the modern world, not the 1920s. 
Description:
Rome was a three-thousand year old empire, with two capitals - Old Rome in Italy and New Rome in America. New Rome was the powerhouse of the gods and their hero’s.
The children of the Olympian gods lived amongst mortals, the most powerful of them joining the Legion, and some even earning fame status when major prophecies thrusted one or a few of them into the spot light. 
Hazel Levesque is an unclaimed, unimportant demigod, unsuitable for the esteemed legion. And she’s about to find herself at the middle of a major prophecy. 
~*~*~*~
Alright let’s do this one last time
“My name is Jason Grace. I’m the son of Jupiter and for ten years, I’ve the one and only child of the Big Three. I’m pretty sure you know the rest: I saved a bunch of people, fell in love, saved the city, and then I saved the city again and again and again. I also did this [cut to Jason getting hit in the head with a brick]. We don’t talk about that. Look, I’m a comic book, I’m a cereal, did a Christmas album, have an excellent theme song, and a so-so popsicle. I mean, I’ve looked worse. But after everything, I still love being the hero. I mean, who wouldn’t? So no matter how many hits I take, I always find a way to come back, because the only thing standing between this city and oblivion is me. There’s only one child of the Big Three. And you’re looking at him.” 
Hazel was listening to her music too loud to hear Chiron calling her. She had her first day at some prep school for demigods, meaning she was leaving Chiron’s half-way house for unclaimed and untamable demigods. 
New Rome was overflowing with demigods who either hadn’t been claimed or had been rejected from the Legion. Lupa had deemed her and her friend Leo “too insubordinate” for the Legion. He set the wolf on fire (an accident) and she had told the wolf to eat shit (not an accident.) Demigods who didn’t fit in the Legion and couldn’t live at their home with their mortal parents (like Hazel, who’s mom had been deem “unsuitable”) or didn’t have mortal parents (like Leo) lived in one of the half-way houses. There was hundreds of them around the country, all named “Chiron’s Half-Way House,” but only the New Rome branch was actually graced by the old Greek Centaur. 
He did his best to train or rehabilitate problem kids, getting them ready for either the legion or the real world. He was the one who had insisted every demigod apply to some fancy, over-priced prep school. And Hazel was the only one of them dumb enough to be smart enough to get in.  
 “Do I have to go?” She asked Chiron, as he adjusted the collar of her uniform (which she already hated.) 
“This is a step in the right direction for you Hazel.” 
She tugged on one of her curls, pulling it straight in front of her eyes before letting it bounce back into place. Chiron led her out to the car. Leo was waiting out on the front porch. 
“Don’t forget us little people while you’re off becoming some famous hero or some shit, Levesque.” He said, smiling. 
Hazel pulled him into a hug. “Who could forget you?” 
“I’ll bust you out as soon as I can,” he whispered. 
Hazel sat, clearly angry, in the back of Chiron’s car. He couldn’t drive, being a centaur and all, so Argus, the thousand-eyed half-way house driver was behind the wheel, and Chiron lectured her about all of her opportunities. 
“I don’t care,” Hazel protested. “I don’t want to go, I’m only here because I drew some pictures.” Her scholarship was art-based, that was true. She was a good artist. Not a really notable demigod skill, though. Still, someone had to mosaic all of Jason Grace’s accomplishments. They were only one year away from some world-ending prophecy that the tabloids still had yet to leak. So it was only a matter of time before Golden Boy Supreme (as Leo had nicknamed him) added another line on his resume. And if Hazel was lucky, which she rarely was, she’d be there to sculpt the whole thing in marble. 
“You passed the entrance exam just like everyone else,” Chiron told her. “This is your opportunity, Hazel. Do you want to end up like --” 
He cut himself off, but she knew how that sentence ended. Like her mother. Her mom wasn’t perfect, but she wasn’t bad. She was actually pretty cool. The courts were just picky about who was allowed to raise demigod children. Even mega-Hero Grace grew up with a foster mom - Sally Jackson, poster mom for good demigod parenting. Literally, her picture was on the side of buses. She had her own book. She had been on The View with the nine muses. 
Her mom wasn’t Sally Jackson, for sure, but she always made sure Hazel had food, and she taught her how to draw. The court’s problem was her mom’s inability to hold down a job. The only thing she managed consistently was selling her own homemade jewelry. It was all bullshit though. If Hazel wasn’t a demigod, they never would have separated them. 
“Whatever,” Hazel said as they pulled up to the school. She grabbed her backpack and suitcase, and preyed to whatever god her father was that she would be kicked out by the end of the day. 
“Tie your shoes!” Chiron yelled after her. She ignored him. 
Hazel walked into a whirlwind. The school was huge. Most people were in their uniforms, although a few wore ancient Roman style armor over theirs. Some carried stacks of books, and other had spears and swords. Half her day was academic - Latin, literature, history, science, and math. The other half was training - weaponry, climbing, survival skills, and pegasus riding. At least they had Pegasi here. She had been trained well enough at the half way house, but there were unfortunately lacking in magic horses. Well, besides Chiron’s lower half, which Hazel wasn’t too keen on riding. 
“You’re shoe’s untied,” a stranger said, passing Hazel. 
“Yeah, I know it’s a choice.” 
The sneakers probably weren’t uniform, but she didn’t earn the label “insubordinate” for nothing. 
She found her locker, wide and tall enough for armor, weapons, and other demigod provisions, and shoved her suitcase in it. She figured she would move into her dorm later on. 
Someone opened the locker next to hers. “Oh this is so embarrassing,” Hazel said to her locker neighbor, “we are wearing the same jacket.” She laughed awkwardly, but the girl just rolled her eyes before walking away. 
Off to a good start, Hazel though before grabbing her backpack and moving on to her first class. 
Each class seemed to come with its own thousand pound textbook. And the long, winding hallways made it impossible to stop at her locker in between classes. By fifth period - history - she had four new text books and figured she was about to get one more. 
She walked in late. She hoped the darkness of the room helped cover her late arrival, but she cast a shadow in front of the projector. 
“Ah Miss. Levesque,” her history teacher, some old guy named Mr. Quintus, paused the movie, “you’re late.” 
She shrugged, “Maybe y’all are just early.” 
A girl with black spiky hair and dark eye make up let out a stifled chuckle. Quitus and Hazel looked at her. “Sorry, it was just so quiet.” 
“Please take your seat, Miss, Levesque.” He started playing the movie again. Some history documentary. The Romans loved those. This one had some young narrator, who would have been handsome if it wasn’t for the scar down his face. With his blond hair and blue eyes, Hazel could have mistaken him for Jason Grace, if Jason were twenty-five, not fifteen. 
“The Titan Saturn, lord of Time, was overthrown by Jupiter and his other brothers and sisters, and his remains cast away.” 
Hazel was just staring to tune the whole thing out when Quintus paused the video again. “Can anyone tell me the Greek name for the Titan Saturn?” The girl next to Hazel raised her hand. “Yes, Miss. Grace?” 
“Kronos,” she offered. 
“Very good,” Quintus restarted the film. Hazel thought about leaning over and asking her if she was related to Jason, but figured she probably got that all the time. 
A week later, Quintus stopped Hazel on her way out the door. “Miss. Levesque?” 
She walked over to his desk. “What’s up?” 
Quintus showed her the score from their history quiz the day before. A red 0/100 was written across the scantron. 
“A zero?” Hazel tried to look genuinely upset. “A few more of those and you’ll probably have to kick me out of here, huh?”
“If a person wearing a blind fold took a true or false quiz at random, what score would they get?” 
“Fifty percent?” 
Quintus changed her 0 to a 100. “That’s right.” He stood and faced the bored to start erasing that day’s lecture notes. “Are you familiar with the story of Icarus, Miss. Levesque?” 
“Uh yeah, he was escaping the Labyrinth with his father with a pair of bronze wings. But he flew too close to the sun, the wax melted, and he fell into the ocean. it’s about pride, right?” 
“Correct,” he said, turning to face her, “but you left out a crucial element. Yes, Icarus was instructed by his father not to fly too high. But he was also told not too fly too low, as the sea mist could also weaken the wax.”
“Why are you telling me this?” She asked. 
“You’re trying to quit, and I won’t let you. You must remember not to let yourself fly too low, it’s just as dangerous. I’m assigning you a personal essay. Not about history, but about yourself and the kind of person who you want to be.” 
Hazel had spent an hour at her desk, trying to write anything for Quintus or for her literature essay, but her ADHD was going off the rails. She wished Leo would make good on his promise to bust her out of there. 
But she decided not to wait for Leo. 
She hadn’t seen her mom in a while. She grabbed her hoodie before making her way down the fire escape. 
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dwarrowdams · 4 years
Text
In The Bleak Midwinter
Set in Winter, Year 1.  Dawn gives Elliott the first of many pomegranates.  Literary chit-chat and Dawn’s backstory ensue.  
TW for discussions of past ableism.
Dawn stomped the snow off of her boots as she entered the library, opening her backpack to pull out the books she’d brought.  “Here you go,” she said as she set them on the counter.
Gunther frowned at them.  “Where did you find these?”
“In the dirt,” Dawn said, waving her hand vaguely.  “I cleaned them off the best I could, but I think they’ve been buried for a while.”
“Well, thank you for bringing them here,” Gunther said as he leafed through them, his brow furrowing as he saw the sorry state of some of the pages.
Dawn’s eyes darted to the right as she began to edge away from the desk.  She peeked past the shelves, hoping that Elliott was here, as he often was on winter afternoons.  Sure enough, he was seated by a bookshelf, his nose buried deep in a book.
“I’m just gonna check out the collection,” Dawn muttered as she wandered off in Elliott’s direction.  She moved slowly, meandering her way towards him  as she hoped that it wasn’t too obvious that he was the main reason she’d come here.  She made a little more noise as she approached him, adjusting her backpack and clearing her throat when she was a few steps away.  Sure enough, he looked up, his mouth curving into a small smile when he saw her.
“Hello Dawn,” he said.  “What are you doing here?”
“Just dropping off some books I found,” she replied.  “And—oh, while I’m here—I have something for you.”  
She set her backpack on the floor and dug inside, praying that the fruit hadn’t been crushed.  Dawn had been extra careful today, but the best-laid plans often went awry, especially with someone as klutzy as her.
Her hand closed around the fruit and she breathed an internal sigh of relief as she pulled the unpunctured pomegranate from her backpack.  “Here,” she said as she handed it to him.
His brow furrowed.  “How did you find this?  It’s the middle of winter.”
“Fruit bats,” she said.  “They leave things behind in my cave sometimes and I thought this might be something you like.”
Elliott’s hands closed around the fruit, a grin spreading across his face.  “Dawn, this is a wonderful gift!” he said.  “Thank you.”
She shrugged, trying not to show how pleased she was with his reaction.  “I’m glad you like it,” she said.  “Otherwise I’d need to find some other way to lure you to the underworld.”
Elliott chuckled at that.  “So you’re a fan of mythology?” he asked. 
“Oh, I adore it,” she said.  “I was gonna major in it for my bachelor’s—or something close, like Classics or English—but that didn’t pan out.”
Elliott’s brow furrowed.  “Why not?” he said.  “If you don’t mind me asking.”
“Not at all,” Dawn said as she sat down beside him.  “The plan was to get my associate’s at community college and then transfer to a four-year university for my bachelor’s.  I was all ready for my first semester and it was great...for a whole two days.  Then it all went to shit.  I couldn’t focus, I was fucking up deadlines, and half the time I didn’t bring the right notebook to class.  I flunked out at the end of the semester.”
She looked away from Elliott as she continued.  “I thought I was just dumb and lazy, but my parents knew something was up.  I wasn’t top of my class in high school, but I did all right and they never had to get on my case about schoolwork.  Long story short, appointments happened, assessments happened, and I was diagnosed with ADHD.”
She ventured a glance up at Elliott, who was listening attentively, showing no signs of shock or distaste at her revelation.  “But you went back to school, I assume?” he asked.
Dawn nodded.  “I started at a different school next fall with the same plan,” she said.  “I thought it’d be great—my meds were working well and I had accommodations that’d make taking tests easier for me—but that’s because I assumed that people would actually follow those.”
“But isn’t ignoring someone’s accommodations against school policy?” he asked.  “And the law?” 
“Oh yeah,” Dawn said.  “Massive ADA violation.  But it was a small school where most of the administration wanted to be somewhere else, so they didn’t give a whole lot of fucks about a freshman with an invisible disability.  I got most of my profs to let me take my exams in a quiet room—which is what they were supposed to do anyways—but some of them didn’t.  My fucking stats professor said he didn’t think I needed the quiet room because it always looked like I was paying attention in class, so I was probably just faking so I could cheat.”
“He actually said that?” Elliott asked, his eyes wide in horror.
“Yep,” Dawn replied.  “I cried for hours that night because I started wondering if I was actually faking it.  Never mind that I spent five hours being evaluated by a trained professional to make sure I actually had ADHD and not something else.”
“Where do they find these people?” Elliott muttered.
“The trash, presumably.”
Elliott laughed.  “I can’t say I disagree,” he said.  “Anyone who’d treat a student like that sounds like a pile of human refuse.”
“You can say that again,” Dawn replied.  “Anyways, my mythology professor was the only one who actually did more than the bare minimum to help me and who helped me figure out what ways of studying and taking notes worked for me.  She let me write an essay instead of doing a final exam, which was a huge help because I didn’t have to deal with the noisy exam room.  We stayed in touch after I graduated and she even writes to me sometimes.”
Elliott reached out to lay a hand on her knee.  “Well, I’m glad that there was someone who recognized how brilliant you are.”
“Aw, you’re sweet,” she said, ducking her head to hide the blush making its way up her neck.  “I’m really not, though.  I just got lucky that someone with a little compassion offered a class on my childhood hyperfixation.”
“Hmm,” he mused.  “So I suppose you getting your associate’s was luck?  And you managing to turn an unused plot of land into a thriving farm in less than a year is also luck?”
“Well yeah,” she said.  “That and people helping me along.  I wouldn’t even have the farm if it wasn’t for my grandfather.”
“But you’re the one who turned it into something again, Dawn,” he said, looking her directly in the eyes.  “Without your planning and hard work, it would still be just an overgrown plot of land.”
“Okay fine, I’m the one who made the farm something,” Dawn said reluctantly.  “But that doesn’t mean I’m brilliant.”
Elliott’s lips curved into a smile.  “Oh, I beg to differ,” he said.  “You’re brilliant, Dawn Abner.  I only hope that someday you can see it for yourself.”
“All this because I gave you a pomegranate?” Dawn said half to herself.
“No, not at all,” Elliott said.  “All this because it’s true.”
Dawn sighed.  She knew that she was unnecessarily hard on herself, but that didn’t make taking a compliment any easier, especially if it came from a cute writer with the most gorgeous hair she’d ever seen.  Still, she appreciated Elliott’s kindness, even if it was just because he pitied her.
“D’you mind if I stay a while?” she asked.  “I could use a break from being out in the cold.”
Elliott smiled at her.  “Please do,” he replied.  “I’d love the company.  And if you’re looking for reading material, I think there’s a collection of Ovid’s works somewhere around here.”
“Perfect,” Dawn said as she pulled herself up off of the floor.  The library was still sparsely stocked, so she was able to find it quickly.  She sat down beside Elliott and flipped through the book, looking for the start of whichever myth struck her fancy.
“Dawn?” he said softly.
She looked up, meeting his eyes.  “Yeah?”
“I’m glad you ventured out here to see me.”
Dawn looked over at him and smiled.  “So am I.”
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fluidityandgiggles · 5 years
Text
Sleep Is For The Weak - Chapter 17
Previous Chapters: Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 5, Chapter 10, Chapter 15, Last Chapter
Writing Masterlist - for previous chapters not otherwise linked, Read on AO3
Notes (I guess): Happy school year in two weeks, folks.
Not gonna lie, I actually had a plan for this chapter, and then forgot it. So... yeah, not the most cohesive or best chapter, but I got it out, and it’s nice, and I like it this way because it’s a break from the wave of panic attacks and mild transphobia the last chapter or two.
Yes, I’m back home now, and I’m doing actually much better mentally and physically than I have since September till June. But the chapters are gonna take a while longer to write from now on, because I’m about to join the scary world of job searching for the unstable ADHD brain, not to mention being involved in three regular ttrpg campaigns (where I play a halfling sorcerer, and a half-elf bard, and also DM the third one), so... my brain is busy. But I promise this fic isn’t going on hiatus! I’m still extremely dedicated and excited to be writing this fic. I love it so much. Honest.
As per every chapter, thanks go to @whatwashernameagain for KHS and for generally being a wonderful human, to @broadwaytheanimatedseries for putting up with my fangirl-levels of excitement over everything (and coming up with the original idea), to @winglessnymph, @asleepybisexual and @anony-phangirl - who, while I know they’ve all fallen out of the loop, continue to have long-lasting effects on this fic as a whole - and new to this list, to @ilovemygaydad, who I’ve asked to beta this fic for me and I hope they’d have time for that starting with the next chapter.
Happy start of college and good luck, my darling dear child. I love you.
Tag list (sort of): @bunny222, @ab-artist, @sweet-and-sour-shadowling, @your-username-is-unavailable, @virgilcrofters, @violetblossem, @maybe-i-like-the-misery, @book-of-charlie, @thatsanswitch, @thatrandomautist, @thebiggestgaypirate, @marshmallow-the-panda
(Wanna be tagged? Lemme know!)
Trigger warning: period appropriate transphobia (the early 00s were not exactly trans-friendly). This chapter is light on the transphobia, but includes aphobia, deadnaming, panphobia (yes, pansexuality was a term in the early 00s, as I learned just half an hour ago) and vague mentions of child abuse.
—————
Sunday, July 27th, 2003
Incoming call: 218-357-5555
"Ye—"
"Remy? I didn't forget your number? Oh good!"
"...Emile?"
"Yeah?"
"...what's this phone number, darling?"
"Oh! Yeah, I… my phone died, so I got a new one! Sorry I didn't tell you sooner… but, umm, I'm gonna get to the point, yeah okay, happy birthday!"
"Thank… you…? Em, you shouldn't have—"
"Ah, but see, that's where you're wrong! Because I had to, because I said that I have to! You're my best friend in the whole world, what kind of friend would I be if I didn't at least call you to say happy birthday?"
"You're precious, darling."
"Thank you! Oh, did you get my gift yet? I sent it to you in the mail last month! Did you—"
"I did, it was… well, it was unexpected, I'd give you that. Where did you even find a Jack mug anyway?"
"Disneyland…?"
"...you know what, that's fair."
"Yeah! So, happy birthday! I'll be in Manhattan next week, so like… do you wanna go see a show or something…? I haven't seen the Gypsy revival yet…"
"...it's a date, then. But you're paying."
"Yes, yes of course! It's gonna be alright, okay? You trust me?"
"With my life."
"Yay! Okay, okay, umm… yeah. I miss you! Happy birthday!"
"Thank—"
"I gotta go right now at this second it's my cousin's bat mitzvah in two days and I need to get my suit and everything but I'll call you tomorrow evening too okay?"
"Sure… have fun, darling."
"Thank you! Okay, bye!"
—————
"India M—"
"Why didn't you tell me Emile has a new number? I cannot fucking believe you!"
"He wanted to do it himself, peach. On your birthday."
"Okay… okay, I guess that's fair…"
"Happy birthday, too."
"Thanks, mom…"
"So… how'd you spend the week?"
"Nothing big happened… my dad took me to see Nina West last night. It was the fucking best."
"I'll bet. Did you have fun?"
"So much fun! She's fan-fucking-tastic. Honestly. I'd give anything for her to either do me or spare a bit of her funny to me."
"Wow… gay much?"
"Shut up."
"Don't worry, it's fine. I still need to take Jenna to a drag show sometime. Did anyone hit on you…?"
"You'll be surprised how many people hit on my dad, actually. But no. I actually broke up with Chris today because of this."
"Oh? Do tell."
"It wasn't… much. He called me a couple hours ago to say happy birthday, which is fine if you ask me but I just… it ended in him trying to talk me into not talking to Emile again. And that's normal, okay, ain't something I can't handle. But he said ‘sure he's asexual, when he isn't spreading his legs to everyone he's asexual'."
"...did he seriously think he can get away with it?"
"India, no—"
"I don't give a fuck anymore, peach. I'm not going to beat him up, you have nothing to worry about, I just… this shit is so fucking infuriating!"
"I know. But hey, look at the bright side. Ulysses and Mandy said they'll take over next year, I'm gonna let them know. He won't be back."
"That's… that's true. I'll call Mandy later. Don't worry about it. Just… what then?"
"Then I told him that it wasn't his choice, he didn't choose any of it, so he said ‘just like you couldn't choose to stay a girl, Rebecca'."
"...oh yeah. Yeah, definitely. I'm telling Mandy. She'll deck him for sure next time she sees him."
"Thanks, mom. I just… I so wanted to deck him right then! So I gave him a piece of my mind, broke up with him and hung up and deleted his number. Now we wait and see what's gonna happen."
"Good boy. I taught you well."
"Thanks… again… he also said that asexuality isn't real, and—"
"I'm flying down to Texas right now to sock him. I took karate for three years. I can do this."
"India, no… hon. Babe. You need to get settled in DC. You need to—"
"I'm buying the plane tickets right now, Remy! Watch me!"
"—You need to get your life together and get your master's degree. You do not, however, need to go break the nuts of someone who doesn't deserve your attention—"
"Who's the older and wiser one of us?"
"Right now? Not you. You told me this very thing when I wanted to kill that asshole who made a joke out of Emmy, I'm telling you this now. Don't."
"...fine. But if I ever do get the opportunity, I'm doing it."
"Good for you."
"Nobody plays my kids dirty like that."
"You go, mom."
"I will! Oh shit, I have to go!"
"What? Why—"
"I forgot Jenna's parents are coming over today and I need to go pick them up from the airport. I'll call you later to keep catching up, okay peach?"
"Okay, but—"
"Awesome, happy birthday, we love you! See you in two weeks!"
"...see y—"
—————
"...Remy?"
"Good evening, Linda… where's Leah?"
"...and here I thought you called to talk to me. But I suppose I'm only your mother, nothing—"
"Mom, please, I'll talk to you after I tell Leah something really important."
"Alright, I'm sorry. But you got the package we sent you, didn't you?"
"I did, I… I just don't understand. You painted that…?"
"Who else would sign my name on a canvas, Remy?"
"You're… right. I'm sorry. It's very nice. Thank you."
"Happy birthday, son."
"Thank… you…"
"...hello?"
"Leah…? Leah, sweetie, can you hear me?"
"Remy! Oh, oh oh oh Remy I told you I'd tell you about my camp and—"
"And how was your time at camp? Take a breath and then tell me."
"Okay! Okay, so, so we were in the woods, and in cabins, and I kinda wanted to sleep in tents but it didn't happen and it was kinda disappointing but I can always do that later, and…"
—————
August 2003
There was a blackout as Remy was trying to write an essay Dr. Gilliam asked of his class.
So his dad put him on a bus to Georgia, which is why he's making do right now at doing his schoolwork with two children running around.
"We gotta go bowling too!" Leah whispered excitedly. For the fifteenth time this hour. "And then we need ice cream, and, umm, I know where the puppies are, and—"
"Leah, love, I need to finish this essay for school right now. Give me a couple minutes, about twenty, and I'll be with you, okay?"
"Okay!"
Remy couldn't be happier to be there at that moment. He had a plane ticket booked to Boston, his rooming was already set at Lowell, the papers have all been set and he was about to room with Emile, Mandy called him the other day to ask if he'd like to help her run the queer society meetings (and of course he said yes)...
And then there was a crashing sound. And a crying toddler sound. And he had to put his laptop aside to go check on Rachel.
More like run to the kitchen to check on Rachel, who was now standing in front of broken pieces of cheap china and bawling her eyes out.
"No, sweetie, it's okay…" he picked her up and started playing with her hair, hoping to calm her down. "We're gonna clean this, okay? What were you doing with the plate?"
"Tea party!"
"You wanna have a tea party?" She nodded, hiding her face in the crook of his neck. "Okay… okay. Let's wash your face, then pick up the pieces, and then make some tea and have a tea party with your dollies. Okay, love?"
She nodded again, and he kind of had no choice. So he did what he said he'd do, sitting Rachel down in her high chair as he cleaned the broken pieces, and for a moment, he felt like an absolute idiot. He felt like he was his mom.
Well… like Rachel was his mom, and the plate was him, and he was his dad, and holy fuck Emile's show analysis habits have definitely had an effect on him and he really should stop thinking about all this ridiculousness right now.
"Remy?" Leah whispered from behind him as he was picking up the shards. Rachel was entertaining herself, rather unaware of what's going on. "Is daddy gonna be mad?"
"I—" He had to stop. And think before answering. "I don't think so, honey."
"But a plate broke…"
"...he doesn't have to know. It was just a plate. He doesn't count the plates in the cupboard, now does he?" She shook her head, her hair flying everywhere. "So he won't know. Because we won't tell him."
"Okay. I can do that."
"I know you can do that, hon. Now, how about you get your roller skates and we'll go to the park?"
"But you said tea party…"
"We can have a tea party after the park. Rachel, do you wanna go to the park?"
Rachel, who up until then mostly minded her own business, looked over and started nodding with a big smile on her face.
"So we can go to the park and then have a tea party. Where's your roller skates?"
—————
Saturday, August 30th, 2003
"It's always nice to see new faces at the queer society meetings," Mandy said with a huge smile on her face as she balanced the clipboard on her knee, Remy holding her iced coffee. "I'm glad you all could make it today. Now, let's do a name round. Everyone state your preferred name - please no dick jokes, we have people who are very uncomfortable with those in this group as well - and what brings you here, and a small fact you'd like people to know about yourself if you'd want to."
Remy just kept looking over the room. Mandy had this all under control, already having printed out a list to put everyone's names and contacts in for if they need to. India trained her well.
From the corner of his eye, Remy could see Emile bouncing in his seat.
"I'll go first. Hi, I'm Amanda, I go by Mandy, I'm pansexual—"
"That's not a real word," someone called out. Remy did his best not to glare at the person.
He was pretty sure it's Chris.
"Pansexual is a word, Christian," Mandy replied, not even looking at him. "It was coined before your grandmother was even born. Anyway, I'm Mandy, I'm pansexual, and I'm in this wheelchair today because I have fibromyalgia and today is a very bad pain day. Who wants to go next?"
It was the same old sharing circle. Some people elaborated more, some people chose not to. Emile went ham on sharing, telling everyone he was gay and asexual and talking about his bunnies at length, looking as proud as he can be.
And then it got to Remy. And he wasn't nearly as anxious as he was last year.
"I'm Remy, I'm gay and transgender, and my therapist said I can start hormone therapy this year."
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vanishcd · 5 years
Text
[[ So i’m gonna post this whole thing but I just. NEED to analyze the entire discussion between Morrell and Stiles in Battlefield. Because its such important character stuff besides being INCREDIBLY well-written.
Included are my thoughts on my Stiles and my perspectives on how he thinks, especially when it comes to how ADHD/anxiety makes you perceive things. Likes are appreciated but PLEASE ask to reblog since this feels very personal for me and my muse
Stiles: You know when you're drowning, you don't actually inhale until right before you black out. It's called voluntary apnea. It's like no matter how much you're freaking out, the instinct to not let any water in is so strong that you won't open your mouth until you feel like your head's exploding. But then when you finally do let it in, that's when it stops hurting. It's not scary anymore. It's - it's actually kind of peaceful. 
So this whole thing starts off with his anxiety. His way of describing things in details with both feelings and facts that makes it incredibly visceral and real. You can feel yourself underwater, you can imagine that moment he’s talking about. The pain and then the relief. (Fear and pain. Big threads in some of his emotional beats. He also FOCUSES in on those details when he’s afraid, classic anxiety symptom.)
Morrell: Are you saying you hope Matt felt some peace in his last moments Stiles: I don't feel sorry for him.  Morrell: Can you feel sorry for the nine - year - old Matt who drowned?  Stiles: Just because a bunch of dumbasses dragged him into a pool when he couldn't swim doesn't really give him the right to go off killing them one by one. 
He has no sympathy for Matt. Not after what he’s done to everyone. Not for what Stiles perceives as a dumb, if awful, fluke and Matt’s personal offense/inability to get over it.
The punishment should fit the crime and his noting of "one by one" points out that Matt has been calculating this. For something ambiguous and one time, if traumatic. It's a conflict with Stiles' sense of what justice is. Matt also attacked him, his friends, Scott, his dad, and Melissa. That alone means Stiles can’t excuse, reason, forgive, or sympathize. But then--
Stiles: And by the way, my dad told me that they found a bunch of pictures of Allison on Matt's computer. And not just of her though. I mean, he photoshopped himself into these pictures. Stuff like them holding hands and kissing. You know, like he had built this whole fake relationship. So yeah, maybe drowning when he was nine years old was what sent him off the rails, but the dude was definitely riding the crazy train. 
here’s the thing. Despite having general/social anxiety and ADHD, Stiles isn't forgiving of mistakes/cruelty because of mental illness. Yes, even though he fully knows his own issues have caused shit. Even knowing it's a POWERFUL motivator. But he has a LOW opinion of someone who uses trauma/illness to lash out purely for revenge. Especially over something that as he said was the result of kids being stupid
Even without this, he would hate Matt simply for being a creepy af stalker, not only CREATING this delusion of him w Allison but ACTING ON IT. Anyone who pulls that shit is LOW. And it was toward one of his closest friends.
He also happens to be deflecting, talking about others instead of himself (which is of course the whole point of a counseling session). He’s not just rambling cause he’s angry/disgusted and has a tendency to. He’s JUSTIFYING himself through it, which means he’s on the defensive and doesn’t want to open up to Morrell.
Morrell: One positive thing came out of this, though. Right? Stiles: Yeah. Yeah, but I still feel like there's something wrong between [him and his dad]. I don't know. It's just like tension when we talk.
The first moment he opens up, maybe because the guilt of STILL not saying anything about the supernatural to his dad is TOO MUCH. It's one of the heaviest burdens he's carried. So even though Stilinski got his position as sheriff back, Stiles still feels like he's to blame.
Interesting thing to note is that the topic of his dad is the one thing he consistently opens up to people to. Showing vulnerability doesn't matter when it's his dads ANYTHING at stake. And he's ok showing that to Morrell both cause it's not focused on moving forward and his own feelings, but because it's actually something that he feels he needs help with. Because their relationship means too much.
The tension could also be alluding to the hallucination he had at Lydias party (despite the fact that he obviously doesn't TELL her about it) I can write a whole essay on that scene but the scene, real or not, clearly weighs on Stiles. And with anxiety, it's easy to fall into the mindset that your fears are real, they just aren't being SPOKEN. Even when you KNOW without a DOUBT that the person doesn't feel that way, it sticks in your mind and messes with your perception. Stiles is aware his perception could be skewed from stress.
Stiles: [Scott’s] got his own problems to deal with though: I don't think he's talked to Allison either. But that might be more her choice, you know. Her mom dying hit her pretty hard. But I guess it brought her and her dad closer. Jackson? Jackson hasn't really been himself lately. Actually the funny thing is, as of right now, Lydia is the one who seems the most normal. 
As Morrell is about to silently observe by asking about him, Stiles is once again deflecting the topic to everyone elses trauma and avoiding talking about how he feels. Just what he’s observed and his judgement about it. And his comments can be perceived as pretty neutral despite how much he cares for 3 of the 4 people who are going through hell with him.
Morrell: And what about you, Stiles? Feeling some anxiety about that championship game tomorrow night? Stiles: Why would you ask me that? Ah. Uh, no. I - I never actually play. But hey, since one of my teammates is dead and another one's missing, who knows, right? 
AGAIN he deflects. He knows she's digging for “im feeling anxious” and admittance that HE isn't ok. And not only denies it on reflex but then takes the leading part and uses that for the topic. Again he talks about others and uses dry sarcasm to make himself more comfortable.
Morrell: You mean, Isaac. One of the three runaways. You haven't heard from any of them, have you? Stiles: How come you're not taking any notes on this? Morrell: I do my notes after the session. Stiles: Your memory's that good? 
Deflect; and this time because she doesnt give up, he turns the topic to HER. Most people will let you ramble about others but when you start making observations about THEM, particularly what they’re doing at the moment or their professionalism, they get defensive. Even if its a word or two, it’s enough to give him an “advantage”. 
And it’s, as becomes the ultimate point, him fishing for time.
Morrell: How about we get back to you? Stiles? Stiles: --I'm fine. Yeah, aside from the not sleeping, the jumpiness, the constant, overwhelming, crushing fear that something terrible's about to happen.
And there's the moment he finally breaks. He knows she's not gonna let him go, she's directly observing his anxiety. And there's a slight pause before she says his name. For the first time, shes directly giving him permission to speak, instead of asking prying questions. He could deny it. And he does, but in the obvious way that's just a lead in to his feelings.
He's at a point in the conversation and the situation that he doesn't have any other option. And even though his tone is harsh, it's honest. Because he's scared and suddenly realizes they covered everyone, and no one is left to help.
Morrell: It's called hyper - vigilance, the persistent feeling of being under threat. Stiles: But it's not just a feeling, though. It's - it's like it's a panic attack. You know, like I can't even breathe. Morrell: Like you're drowning? Stiles: Yeah. Morrell: So if you're drowning, and you're trying to keep your mouth closed until that very last moment, what if you choose to not open your mouth? To not let the water in? Stiles: You do anyway. It's a reflex. Morrell: But if you hold off until that reflex kicks in, you have more time, right? Stiles: Not much time. Morrell: But more time to fight your way to the surface? Stiles: I guess.
He has a way with words. He's been rambling this whole time. But his description of a panic attack is the last vivid bit for several lines. Trying to get across his desperation.
Then he goes to simple answers. "Yeah" and "I guess" because when he feels so lost, he gets quiet.
Stiles is very pragmatic AND emotional. He thinks with both but rationalizes. "It's a reflex" and "not much time" is his logical side kicking in, but in that way it's counterproductive because anxiety. You search for an answer, a relief from your fear, and when it's GIVEN, you don't quite know what to do with it. So you rationalize your own helplessness because you've fallen into that pattern of logical thinking combined with fear. That's what makes an anxious mind spin out.
Morrell: More time to be rescued? Stiles: More time to be in agonizing pain. I mean, did you forget about the part where you feel like your head's exploding? Morrell: If it's about survival, isn't a little agony worth it?  Stiles: But what if it just gets worse? What if it's agony now and then - and it's just hell later on?
Stiles fears pain. And I think it's not the pain specifically, it's the idea of it being the last thing, an extended thing. Emotional or physical (who wouldn’t?) And then he rationalizes with facts again to prove his point. This is the crux of MANY anxieties. That you aren't strong enough to get through, that it won't end, that there's no hope.
Morrell is having none of it. She won't let him give up on HOPE.
Morrell: Then think about something Winston Churchill once said - "If you're going through hell, keep going."
Know why that got through to him? Because it's simple and factual and makes him realize--it's the only thing you CAN do. It's not exactly hope for him but determination. Will to keep going for a little longer
And the truth is, that's all you CAN do in some horrible situations. You feel hopeless, useless. But to quote another favorite tv show "believing in even the possibility of a happy ending is a very powerful thing."
Hope, hope for hope, will get you through. It can be more painful than anything in the world, but it's also the ONE THING that lets you get thought when EVERYTHING ELSE has failed.
And as Morrell says, if you can survive, isn't it worth it?
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quinintheclouds · 6 years
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I found out im a ravenclaw! It doesn't feel like it fits me but hey, what are you gonna do about it. Can you tell me stuff about ravenclaws?
Yay, I’d love to! Quick aside though, what do you mean by “found out?” Your wording seems to indicate it was something shown/told to you rather than a conclusion on which you’d arrived yourself. If you took a quiz, those can be fun but aren’t reliable. I can take the pottermore test 3 times in a row answering with complete honesty and get sorted into 3 different Houses. The quizzes are all just someone else’s perceptions of what innocuous details might pertain to each House, and a few years ago I conducted an analysis of the different options/choices and the Houses to which they led, and… a lot of it’s kinda irrelevant and arbitrary.
If I’m misinterpreting and you DID come to this realization for yourself, I’m curious as to why you feel it doesn’t seem to fit you. but WELCOME to Ravenclaw! :D Keep in mind though that everyone has aspects of every House, and aspects of themselves that aren’t contained by Houses at all!
Okay, initial ramblings aside… sorry :P Ready to hear some bomb info about us Ravenclaws that often isn’t talked about? Let’s go! [Bear in mind that these aren’t exclusive to just Ravenclaws and also won’t apply to every Ravenclaw! Some of these are just my personal experience/thoughts]
So first, Ravenclaw’s canon defining characteristics: intelligence, creativity, wit, imagination, love of learning, uniqueness, originality, individuality, curiosity, open-mindedness, and acceptance. 
We are largely a compassionate bunch that stands against ignorance of all kinds and will fight by informing others. Ravenclaws can often be found organizing protests and the like for important causes (akin to Hermione’s S.P.E.W.)
A lot of Ravenclaws have trouble settling on our House, because we can have the inclination to look at every angle of a scenario so that we can at least attempt to more objectively weigh the options. This is why I used to think I was a Gryffindor/Hufflepuff for long stretches of time.
Another reason some of us hesitate to sort ourselves as such is because of the misconception that Ravenclaws always make great grades or are dutiful with schoolwork. Not true. Intelligence comes in many forms!
On that note, neurodivergent Ravenclaws may struggle to feel we belong when we see so many our peers excel in school. 
On the brighter side, Ravenclaws like these will somewhat unknowingly wind up banding together. We’re the ones who accidentally miss class because we’re so engrossed in researching some big new interest. The ones who annoy the others by testing out new spells/potions of our own creation and consequently making a mess and ruckus. We’re the ones who forgot to study because we got confused by one of the points in the book/lecture and wound up writing an essay trying to debunk the error instead of doing the actual assignment. Here’s to us lol
A bunch of us DEFINITELY waste time gathered outside the common room (or CAW-mmon room!) just solving the door’s riddles. (If you didn’t know, the door only opens after you answer a different riddle every time) 
The vast majority of us LOVE puns. Ah, wordplay… the toy of language.
Starting a million projects and never finishing them whoops
Having a million journals you’ve written in so you have no clue which is which at this point
Buying way too many books but rarely finding time to actually read
OUR HOUSE COLORS ARE BLUE AND BRONZE, DAMMIT! THE MOVIES CHANGED THE BRONZE TO SILVER AND I’LL NEVER BE OVER IT (lol I’m totally chill about this, can you tell?)
We are HUGE daydreamers! We pride ourselves on imagination, and luckily for us, we’re in one of the tallest towers of Hogwarts (bc we represent the element of air) so we have beautiful windows out of which to gaze while letting our minds wander 
Also the cawmmon room ceiling is magically designed to always look like the night sky, so we love to lie on the floor and watch the stars, moon, planets, etc.
WE FRICKIN’ LOVE SPACE, OKAY???
NEVER leave your stuff behind in the dorms! You’ll have to answer a riddle to get back in, and by that time you’ll be late to class (fellow ADHD Ravenclaws, we know this pain all too well)
We’re an adventurous bunch, contrary to some belief. But our adventures aren’t purely for external enjoyment — the excitement arises from the stimulation of our minds. Curiosity killed the cat, as it were, but feeds the eagle. We’ll sneak out of the dorms to go to the library or steal some ingredients from the Potions classroom for an experiment. The Restricted Section is our playground. 
We’re artists, writers, poets, performers, musicians. People overlook this too often, but these are so important to so many of us. I create, therefore I am.
We’re pretty weird and eccentric a lot of the time, but embracing that helps us gain understanding about what makes us passionate, and we’ll work hard for things we care about.
Side Note: I’ll never not be bitter that Fred and George were in Gryffindor. They were such Ravenclaws. They were impish lil pranksters, and very clever about it, and only did so when there was something to be learned from it (i.e. testing their numerous inventions). I could even see Slytherin more than Gryffindor. *Sigh,* I digress… for now.
I’m one of the Ravenclaws who discusses philosophy and theoretics for hours on end, and the annoying one who asks random questions for the sake of asking questions, just as a game to test myself and see if I can come up with possible answers. (The embodiment of the “do you think pigeons have feelings?” meme).
We, uh. Have terrible sleeping habits. And eating. And showering. And we forget water exists sometimes. We kinda have problems remembering we have corporeal bodies with needs or whatever. Lame.
Some of the more rigid, stereotypical Ravenclaws can be defensively competitive for top of class, and that can turn a bit sour, but I like to avoid that drama altogether.
We notably broke into the Astronomy Tower to watch a meteor shower, and lost so many points we came dead last in the House Cup that year.
Many of us have ALSO snuck into the Forbidden Forest to study creatures and explore deeper.
Yeah we don’t win the Cup often.
Muggle-born Ravenclaws get together in secret to teach the others about math/science/literature/etc. because the purebloods BEGGED them to and they were happy to oblige.
Interviewing the paintings to learn magical history from a firsthand account bc Professor Binns is too detached and boring
According to the wiki, we’re the House most likely to dismiss social conventions and unspoken rules in the search for satiating our curiosity. We’re full of quirks and often won’t stand for playing by unnecessary or flawed rules of any nature.
As hyper and Extra™ as some of us can be, we also love to chill by the fire with a book, a blanket, some music, and maybe too much tea
In general, we’re “well-known for being welcoming and encouraging of creativity, eccentricity and individuality and being very accepting,” as stated by the wiki.
Okay, I am physically forcing myself to stop now. As you can see, we also tend to just dump information all over the place lmao XD Anyway this was fun to write and I might make a post about neurodivergent Ravenclaws in particular… Let me know if you have any updates on your House, and if you ARE a Ravenclaw, we’re happy to have you!!!
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mrsacklesevansmgk · 2 years
Text
Cursed - Chapter 4: Lana
Word Count: 5004
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“Be the moon in somebody’s night” - Yasmin Mogahed
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Justin was waiting for me by my locker. I had been hoping to get out of class and to my locker without running into anyone but that obviously was not going to happen. So instead, I turned up the music and made it obvious that I didn’t want to talk. After loading my stuff into my bag, I headed for home. Justin fell into step behind me, as did the others. Slowly but surely, they went their own way until it was only Justin and I left. He was bursting at the seams. There was something he wanted to say but he was biding his time; the opportunity came when I had to brush a piece of hair out of my ears and dislodged one of my earphones. “Come on! Come on! Tell me what happened!! I’m dying to know!!” he burst out.
I was over this day and everything that came with it. Why was everyone making such a big deal about this? Why was Justin feeding into it? We’ve been through this already. Nothing happened, it was no big deal. If something did happen, he would have been the first person I talked about it. “What are you talking about?” I replied as I let out the biggest sigh. Sometimes I wondered if Justin thrived on the gossip as much as the ‘cool’ kids, but then I remembered he was incredibly weird to anyone other than our friend group and his hippy lifestyle was a bit too extreme for the likes of Lydia, Marie or Eleanor. I didn’t really need to ask what he was talking about; I knew exactly what he was talking about. Someone had told him about our exchange during study. I stopped walking and rubbed my hand over my face. I knew Justin wasn’t going to stop asking, so I figured I might as well tell him how uneventful it was, straight from the horses’ mouth, so to speak. I told him exactly what happened, how it happened and in what order it happened, starting with when I first met Adam this morning. He listened intently. He ‘hummed’ and ‘ahhh’d’ in all the right places, even though to me it was not worth the effort. We started walking again. Justin pondered how the mean-girls were going to take not being the centre of attention; he also wondered how Eleanor was going to take it.
As we neared Justin’s mailbox, I said my goodbyes. We promised to chat later on, probably online, which was our usual routine. As Justin walked up the path to his house, I pushed my headphones back in my ear and continued walking home.
I went through the front door quietly hoping that no one would hear me. I left my headphones in my ears, so even if someone called out, I’d have an excuse as to why I didn’t hear them. Usually, I take my time getting home, so by the time I do, everyone else is here and the house is noisy and chaotic! But today it seemed quiet and empty. On the way upstairs to my bedroom, I made a stop at the kitchen. I knew I needed snacks. I planned on avoiding my family for the majority of the evening. I grabbed a punnet of strawberries, a can of soda, some water and some carrots and hummus and headed up to my bedroom. I made myself a little picnic spot in the book nook in my room and enjoyed my afternoon tea snack sitting in the sun, daydreaming at the trees outside.
Once I was done, I dumped the contents of my school bag on my desk. I left most things at school unless there was homework or an assignment to work on. I still had that History essay to finish off and I had some worksheets to do for both Bio and Classics. I rummaged through the books and papers and came across a small, folded piece of paper that looked very similar to the one I’d given back to Adam in Study. That’s strange, I thought to myself. I’d definitely given it back to Adam. How had he gotten it back to me and in my bag without me noticing? I picked it up and unfolded it...yup, it was the same note. I could see both his writing and my response. But now there was more of his neat handwriting underneath my response. He had given it back to me! But how?!
Yes, I have heard the comments. I find it quite interesting actually. It’s funny how people overreact over the smallest things! Are we not allowed to talk? Speak for yourself, I happen to be a very interesting person thank you very much ☺. Anyways I shall see you later, when you least expect it ☺ -Adam
How had he managed to reply and get the note back onto my desk, or in my bag without me noticing? But then again, I wasn’t really paying attention. I was daydreaming about being in my peaceful meadow and when that happened, I was in a world of my own. He probably just dropped it into my bag while I was daydreaming. No biggie, I thought. That was the most logical answer.
I went to my desk and turned on my laptop. It was a bit old and clunky and liked to overheat, so I only really used it for schoolwork and assignments. I was saving up to buy a new one, but it wasn’t something I needed to have all the time. I was feeling curious, so I typed Adam’s name into the search engine and waited patiently for the results to load. While I waited, I snacked on my carrots and hummus, realising that I was hungrier than I thought. The results loaded and I clicked on the first entry. Very quickly a page loaded with Adam’s picture and a list of all his achievements and accolades. It was dated about 2 years ago, but Adam looked exactly the same as he did now, like he hadn’t aged a day. His intense green eyes were as piercing now as they seemed back then, but they held the dark and mysterious truth about Adam hidden behind them. I remembered thinking this morning that I couldn’t quite tell what colour his eyes were; I thought they changed between hazel and green, but now there was no doubt about it. He had green eyes. His caramel hair was kept nice and tidy, brushed back and away from his face and the school uniform made him appear a little more grown up than he did today at school. But the most striking thing about the picture was that he had the blankest stare on his face, he wasn’t even smiling. It was like he was staring a hole through the picture and right into my soul, here, now.
Something compelled me to click on the picture and it took me to a photo album. There were lots of pictures, some of Adam by himself, some with teachers and with other students, some of Adam holding up various awards. But in every single picture he had the same look on his face. His eyes were intense, but he looked blank. The other people in the photos with him were smiling and looked happy, he just looked.... absent. This was a total contrast to how he appeared at school today...he spent the majority of the time I was around him, with a smile plastered on his face; and if he wasn’t smiling, he had an amused look on his face.
I went back to the search engine’s results page and clicked on the next result. While I waited, I opened my can of soda and took a big mouthful. Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! That was my phone. I put down my can and looked around the room hoping to spot where I’d left it. Oh duh!! It’s by the Bluetooth speaker! It was a message from my mother, it read:
Won’t be home till late. Eleanor is picking Ariane up from her piano lessons. Dad will be home about 7. Try not to kill each other and fix yourselves something for tea. I hit the reply button and typed out a quick message to my mother. She liked it when we replied even if it was just one word, just so she knew that we had gotten the message. Awesome I thought to myself. Home alone for at least another hour. I went back to the computer and continued to be nosey at Adam for another 5 minutes, but there wasn’t really much to see. That first link had given me the most information and even then, it wasn’t a lot.
I heard a notification ping through the speakers.... ahhh, an email, but it was nothing important, so I decided to sign into Messenger and see who was online to chat. Justin was online, so I started talking to him. After a few minutes a little box popped up on the screen, it said “ADAM17 would like to add you as a friend.”
What? No! I thought! We don’t know each other. Why does he want to add me? Is it even Adam?
But the only way to get answers is to accept it, so I clicked “accept” and waited patiently for ADAM17 to message me. Justin’s messenger window was pinging away.
Just-in-time: Lana, why aren’t you answering me?! Just-in-time: Earth to Lana! Just-in-time: HELLOOOOOO!! LANA-ROCKS: Jeez Justin, take a chill pill! We literally just saw each other ten minutes ago, what could be so important? Just-in-time: Oh, nothing. I was just bored. What are you doing? LANA-ROCKS: I’m honestly just sitting here eating carrots. LANA-ROCKS: Buttttttt......that might be about to change because I think Adam just sent me a friend request 😛 Just-in-time: WHAT?!?!?!?! Just-in-time: How do you even know it’s him? How did he find you? Did you accept the request? Are you going to talk to him? Lana, you have to talk to him. Find out why he’s being all mysterious and weird around you. LANA-ROCKS: Justin, you need to chill. I don’t know it’s him, I have no idea how *he* found me, if it even is him. Yes, I accepted it, because then I can ask him how he found me. I’ll talk to him if he talks to me first. Now stop freaking out over this. Let’s just be our amazing normal selves... Just-in-time: Okay, okay, you’re right. Let’s be chill. Okay, I’ll be chill. But if he talks to you, you have to give me every single detail!! LANA-ROCKS: Lmao! Okay, sure Justin.
That managed to shut Justin up for about 5 seconds, before he moved on to the next topic floating around in his head. I don’t know why he had so much to say considering we literally spend almost all of our time together...we just spent the weekend at Dillon’s family cabin, then spent hours together at school and just said goodbye not fifteen minutes ago. But that’s Justin. I swear he has ADHD or something, the way his mind and attention span is all over the place, focusing on ten million things at once.
After about 5 minutes ADAM17 finally said something. ADAM17: Lana? Is this you? It’s Adam from school today. Sorry ‘bout the random add. I sat there for a minute or so, was this really Adam? Only one way to find out, I guess. But it would be really weird if some other random Adam had friended me and began talking to me like he knew me.
LANA-ROCKS: Hey Adam. Yup it’s me. How’d you find me anyway? ADAM17: Glad it’s you. Ooops snapped! Now I have to admit being nosey about you; I really wanted to talk to you, so I asked a few people at school if there was a way to contact you. I kind of took advantage of the fact that everyone was talking about us today. LANA-ROCKS: You asked people about me? Who did you ask? What is it that you want to talk to me about? ADAM17: Yeah, I asked about you seeing as it was hard to have a proper conversation with you. I just asked some people around school; I’m not naming names. I wanted to talk to you because you intrigue me, and I want to get to know you a bit better. Is that okay with you? Will you be my friend? I didn’t know what to say to that. I hadn’t thought that he would actually want to be friends with me. No one liked to be my friend when they knew who my sister was. Or rather, they just wanted to be my friend to get close to Eleanor and the second they were, they ditched me. This is why I stayed with my select group of friends...we were genuine friends.
LANA-ROCKS: Sorry ‘bout that. Today seemed a bit weird. I’m not usually that all over the place and frazzled. The whispers definitely got to me though and I’m not used to the attention. But yeah, sure, I guess we can be friends. ADAM17: Awesome!! I’m so glad! Yeah, the whispers were weird. But I guess I’m used to that happening. I’ve been the new kid more times than I can count. Whispers and stares kind of come with that. ADAM17: What are you up to tonight? I’m quite bored. Wanna meet up and go for a walk? LANA-ROCKS: I’m not up to much. I was planning on having a quiet night tonight but yeah, a walk sounds good. I think I could use the fresh air too. Where do you want to meet?
I tried not to sound too eager. It’s not that I was eager as such, it’s just, it would be nice to a) go for a walk and b) get to know Adam a bit without the prying eyes of the entire school.
ADAM17: Awesome. Where do you live? I’ll meet you at your house in ‘bout twenty minutes. I quickly gave him my address and my cell phone number so he could text when he got close. ADAM17: Sweet see you soon Lana!
I sent a quick message to Justin that said, “Going for a walk, will talk to you later!” Then I logged out. Justin replied immediately, but I wouldn’t read it till nearly midnight. He said:
Just-in-time: A walk? With whom? Just-in-time: Lana! Who are you going on a walk with? Just-in-time: Are you going for a walk with Adam? Just-in-time: You are, aren’t you?!?!?! Just-in-time: Well, have fun!! But you better tell me alllllllll about it when you get home or I’m walking to your house in the morning and waking your ass up!!
I had twenty minutes to figure myself out. I jumped up and tidied my room a little bit; I mostly just cleared my bed so that I could crawl into it immediately when I got home from the walk. Then I quickly changed my clothes, I ditched the thick hoodie I had worn to school and went with a plain black tank singlet and a thin ‘summer’ hoodie. After that I fixed my hair and put it up into a ponytail. The last thing I had to do was go downstairs to the kitchen and fill up my water bottle. I made sure to leave a note on the fridge and text my mother to let him know I was going for a walk. With that, I was done, I chucked my water bottle and a light rain jacket into a little backpack that trekkers use, grabbed my keys, headphones and cell-phone. Just as I was about to go out the front door, Eleanor and Ariane walked in the back door. I walked back to the kitchen, “Hey, just going for a walk” I said as Eleanor took in my appearance and asked, “Where are you going? Ma isn’t home tonight, so we have to watch Ariane,” said Eleanor.
“Just for a walk, I won’t be gone long. Both you and Ariane are old enough to be alone for a few hours, I’m sure,” I replied with a smile on my face.
Beep Beep! Beep Beep! My phone beeped. Saved by the bell, I thought. I pulled it out and read the message, it was from an unsaved number; it was Adam letting him know he was outside at the gate. “Bye” I yelled to the kitchen behind me as I walked out the front door.
Adam was standing by my mailbox, hands stuffed into his jean pockets. He looked up when he heard me slam the door a little too loud and caught me cringing. Oops! I thought. I walked down the front steps and towards the gate, which he opened for me to walk through. “So, Lana, where are we heading?” He asked as he started walking, hands still stuffed in his pockets like he didn’t know what to do with them. “How about we just walk and see where it takes us?” I answered. He didn’t answer but the smile on his face told me he didn’t mind what we did.
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We walked down the street making small talk and chit chat. Even though we barely knew each other, the conversation came naturally, and it was only awkward every now and then when we realised that the other didn’t know what we were talking about. Adam seemed to be from a completely different world than I was. His normal and my normal were worlds apart. After we’d been walking for about a half hour, I had worked up the courage to ask him why he found me so intriguing. He looked confused. “You said online earlier that you asked around because I intrigued you…why?” I asked.
The question definitely caught him off guard. He was not expecting it and he didn’t have an answer ready. He took in a big breath and stopped walking. It took me a few seconds to realise he’d stopped, so I stopped and turned around to look at him. He took one big step towards me so that we were now face to face. He looked me directly in the eyes and said, “You know Lana, you’re not as insignificant as you’d like to think. A lot of people are interested in you, but you shut them all out and put up a wall. Just because you don’t have blonde hair or look like your sister, doesn’t mean that you aren’t pretty or interesting. You’re plenty interesting and I’ve known you for less than 12 hours. I can’t imagine how much more interesting you are to those who have known you longer.”
I stood there staring for a few seconds. I expected this kind of answer from him; one of those answers where he said a lot of words, but he didn’t really answer the question at all. And he’s a fool to think for one minute that any of those idiots at school thought I was interesting or wanted to get to know me, for me. I’ve been around these same people for my entire life. If they wanted to break down my walls, they would have succeeded by now. He stood there watching me process what he had said, working through the response and how I felt about it. Obviously, I didn’t agree, and he could see that by the look on my face, because the second I opened my mouth to argue the point, he began to smile. That resulted in me frowning, which in turn caused a giggle to escape his mouth.
“Okay, Mr. Smooth-talker, that didn’t even answer my question. I don’t care what people think of me, I don’t care about being popular, I don’t care if I look like my sister or not. It doesn’t matter to me. Being the centre of attention or the topic of the school gossip, is not something that appeals to me, at all – as you can see from how I handled today. I have my core group of friends who mean the world to me, I’d do anything for them. They took the time to break down the ‘walls’” I said, with quotation marks around that word, “and get to know me. No one else has tried or even wants to try to get to know me and I’m fine with that. And lastly, I am probably the least interesting person in this town, so I don’t buy that for a second!” It all came gushing out. Like verbal diarrheas.
I turned on my heel and started walking again, leaving Adam standing there and then rushing to catch up and just as he got to my side, I managed to trip over an imaginary rock…. aka I stumbled over my own feet and was just about to faceplant on the concrete. Adam had amazing reflexes and grabbed my elbow just as gently as he had earlier in the day. He caught me just as I was about to hit the concrete. He helped me back to my feet and let go of my elbow, he looked around to make sure I wasn’t hurt in any way.
“Lana, I know you won’t believe me but I’m going to say it anyway. You intrigue me because of who you are,” he gently lifted my chin so that we were face to face again, “I have a gift. I can read people. It’s as if they’re an open book – a good thing to be able to do when you move schools as often as I do. You, dear, sweet, innocent Lana, at first, I thought you were easy to read. From the second I met you, I knew you were a nice person and I wanted to get to know you. The look you gave me when you walked into English class this morning, it was as if I had just killed your dog. Your cheeks were slightly flushed, like you had been rushing to class. Then I caught you looking at me and the gentle flush on your cheeks deepened to a marvelous shade of pink. I knew I had caught you looking me over, trying to decide whether or not you liked me and whether you were going to talk to me or not,” he paused to take a deep breath, “And I liked the way you looked at me as if I was interesting, it is good to have someone look at you that way.” He paused again. And just when I thought he was done, he added “Just when I think I can guess your next move, you go and do something completely out of the blue and catch me off guard. You’re not so easy to read after all Lana and THAT intrigues me.”
I smiled up at him and he smiled back. We started walking again and I decided I needed to focus on putting one foot in front of the other. I didn’t need another situation where he was saving me from my own clumsiness. We were near a park, so I suggested that we go and sit on the swings for a while. They had big swings for teenagers and adults to use – you could go pretty high if you wanted too. I always liked going on the swings as a child and if I needed to get away for a short while and couldn’t quite make it to my meadow, the swings were my next best option. When we got to the park I went to the closest swing and sat down. I pushed off the ground to start my momentum, swinging my legs back and forth, working myself into a rhythm. Suddenly I felt Adam’s hands on my waist. He gave me a gentle push so that I was swinging a bit higher and no longer needed to push off the group. He gave me another big push and then went and sat on the swing next to me and got himself going.
After a few minutes of swinging in silence he started talking again, “As I get to know you more, the more I like the person you are. I know this may seem forward and out of the blue since we’ve only just met, but I really want to get to know you more. Would you like to go out to the movies with me on Saturday night?” I continued to swing in silence, trying to formulate an answer. I know it was a simple yes or no question. But I needed to think about it in the bigger picture. Did I want to get to know Adam more? Was I fine with a basic friendship or a more in-depth friendship? Did I want more than friendship? Did Adam? I looked up at him and saw that he was looking at me waiting for me to respond. His stare was intense, and captivating, I couldn’t look away.
“Hmmm movies on Saturday night? I’m sure I can do that” I replied, trying to sound casual. It didn’t fool him though and he just laughed. “Geez Lana don’t look so offended. I just asked you out. I don’t think you realise how serious I am, but I really like you and I want to spend time with you.”
This was the moment that my body decided to betray me. My breathing was getting fast and shallow, I couldn’t control it. I needed to take a deep breath but every time I tried, my lungs would constrict, and I couldn’t get enough air in. Adam was standing beside me before I knew it, grabbing the swing to slow me down and bring me to a stop. He was staring at me, like he always seems to be, but this time he didn’t have a cute smile on his face, but a look of genuine concern and worry. I managed to pull my asthma inhaler out of my pocket and force it into my mouth and pump it once. I slowly breathed the medicine into my lungs. I pumped the inhaler one more time and took five breaths. Already I was beginning to feel better. It’s funny because I had actually considered leaving my inhaler at home, but I’d put it in my pocket subconsciously, because that’s what I did every day before I left the house. I never went anywhere without an inhaler…or two.
Adam was still standing in front of me, rubbing my back and encouraging me to take deep breaths. I couldn’t help but laugh at the amount of concern he was showing. This was a very normal, regularly occurring event for me. Not only was I clumsy in general, but my lungs often decide to forget how to breathe properly, and I have an asthma attack. “If I had known asking you out would have had this reaction on you, I wouldn’t have done it!” He tried to joke. His face was now only inches away from mine. I could feel his breath on my lips. I still sat on the swing, with Adam standing in front of me, holding the chains in his grip and holding me close to his body. It wasn’t such a bad place to be, to be honest. It definitely was not helping me keep my breathing under control, but it felt nice that he was showing such concern and care for me. “It wasn’t you, Adam. I just have asthma attacks every now and then, more often in the evenings. That’s why I carry my inhaler around with me all the time. But only those close to me know about it.” I paused, “Sorry you had to witness that.”
After a few minutes of me taking deep breaths and Adam holding me as close to him as possible, he said “Let’s get you home Lana.” I considered putting up a fight. I didn’t want to leave. I was happy and content sitting on this swing being held by his strong arms, up against his body. He began to pull away, I grabbed his arms and said “No! No, I don’t want to go just yet,” I choked out. He put his arms back around me and pulled me closer to him and rested his head on the top of mine. This felt incredibly normal, and I was beginning to understand just how much he cared about me. Maybe I cared about him just the same. The realisation sent shivers down my spine, and I had no opportunity to disguise them and hide them from Adam. He mistook the shiver for me being cold and began rubbing his hands up and down my arms to keep me warm.
“Thanks, but I’m not cold,” I said. I could feel him smile against my forehead, “Why are you shivering then?” he asked. I knew he knew the answer, but he wanted to make me say it. Instead, I just relaxed into his arms and enjoyed the moment. Before I knew it, it was getting dark. He kept rubbing his hands up and down my arms to keep me as warm as the cool night air hit. But it wasn’t his hands keeping me warm, it was his body heat that was transferring through the hug he was giving me.
I didn’t want this moment to end. Neither of us did. But we both knew it was time for our walk to come to an end. Without saying anything, we started walking back towards my house. We continued talking, but it was light-hearted and easy-going. When we got to my front gate, Adam gently took my hand and rubbed it between his two big hands. He looked into my eyes and simply said “I’ll be here in the morning to take you to school,” and he kissed my cheek before turning and walking away.
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lilnasxvevo · 6 years
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I wrote an essay once when it was really late and I was really frustrated
I am not going to send it to my literary journal and I did not even hand it in for the class I wrote it for (the next essay I wrote was passable enough to submit) but I think it is kind of funny so I am going to share it with you
Zoom Zoom
           Draft number four of this FUCKING essay because I can’t FUCKING write. I just through out the last three because they sucked and excuse my language but I’m so frustrated at myself and I typed the wrong homophone in the last sentence and I went back and changed it but then I changed it back so you understand where I’m at right now because I NEVER!! MAKE!! SPELLING MISTAKES!! I was on the editorial staff of my high school newspaper for two years and that shit was flawless! I was editor in chief and that shit was free of god damn error! I do not make! Spelling mistakes!
           I’m so frustrated because part of me just wants to write about a motherfucking TV show and the rest of me is like, “No, Thomas, that’s so fucking stupid, write about something that’s serious, something people can take seriously, something people can respect, but NOT something boring” and I’m like OK!! WELL!! THAT’S A TALL ORDER YOU’VE GIVEN YOURSELF TOMMY BOY!!
           I’ve been trying to copy the style of the essays we’ve been reading in the last three drafts I just started and abandoned. I wrote…lets see…(I will be keeping all future grammar and spelling errors that I make) over 1300 words that way so far today. Fuck it!! I am going to be writing like ME and what I write like is a protagonist from a really sub-par young adult novel. I read a lot of those! But I was already like that before I read all those books. Actually most of the ones I read are pretty great. Holly Black, David Levithan, uh those Girl, 15, Charming but Insane books I forget who writes them but if I look it up I have to stop my timer and that is just not happening—check em out, they’re great. Oh, Eoin Colfer, too. I have his autograph! I actually also have David’s.
           I made a list of all the things I could write this essay about. I didn’t want to write about being queer again because I don’t want you people to pigeonhole me. There’s like 50 items on that list. I’ll spare you. The list sucks. I texted my best friend “What should I write this essay about” and she said “Roman Catholicism” and I was like “Maybe” and she was like “Vampires” and I was like “LMFAO you will never believe what I wrote last time spoiler it was vampires.”
           I have ADHD. Sometimes this surprises people! Sometimes it does not! Usually it doesn’t surprise other people who have ADHD because we go based on our lived experiences instead of stereotypes unlike SOME people. I was diagnosed when I was 17 which is super super late but they literally, and you can look this up, base most criteria off of the symptoms of little white cisgender boys, who are usually hyperactive, and I was inattentive type. My third grade teacher used to slap my desk with a ruler when I spaced out. She never brought up my attention issues to anyone else. I hated her. I still hate her. Curse you, Cathy Sellers!!
           I have chilled out on the caps lock because maybe that was kind of a gimmick. Ok. Well. The ADHD. I actually don’t remember why I brought up ADHD, which is classic ADHD. Oh. I think it was to say that maybe you will be surprised that the inside of my head is this giant mess. Not to be all “welcome to my twisted mind” or that edgy shit. Maybe I’m trying to make an embarrassing essay on purpose. The point is some people think I’m very composed and stuff and the inside of my head has never once been composed. Well, maybe a few times. I miss standardized testing because they don’t really matter and they were fun to focus on and it was fun to fill the bubbles in and they made me feel smart. I am smart. I promise I’m smart. Sometimes people think I’m dumb because I’m a trans man which I don’t understand but I promise I’m smart.
           I just slapped my face to try to get myself to wake up a little bit. I am wiped. That cold that’s been going around is kicking my ass, though not as bad as it’s kicking the ass of other students in this class who I have maybe potentially had to drive to the pharmacy this week.
           I am so obsessed with this show on BBC America right now called Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency. In ADHD circles this is sometimes called a hyperfixation—it’s kind of like the special interests autistic people have, surprise surprise ADHD and autism are both developmental disorders and they have a lot in common. Dirk Gently is all I can think about. It’s a really great show and I loved it last season because it has the actor Samuel Barnett as the lead actor and I swore my fealty to him in like 2014 and then he got a lead on a TV show which is crazy because he never gets big roles like that so I was like NICE!!! Yeah, so last season was sci-fi, and the show is really great and it has this big diverse cast and all the characters are really interesting and the show never leans on stereotype instead of fleshing out a character as a unique person and there were electric crossbows last season that were designed by that Adam Savage dude from Mythbusters. So but this season, THIS SEASON, is SO good because apparently the show is planning on “switching genres” every season but with the same main cast so now they’ve been running around trying to find each other after everyone got separated at the end of last season (spoiler) and now they’re all in Montana and instead of sci-fi it’s FANTASY which is my FAVORITE. There’s another dimension that’s this great high-fantasy nation called Wendimoor and there’s a door between the valley of Inglenook and this one town in Montana for reasons that I refuse to explain, just watch the show. Ok and in Inglenook, there’s—it’s kind of sketchy how it works but there’s this guy named Panto Trost who has pink hair (his whole family has pink hair and it’s unclear if it’s genetic or if they dye it as a tribal marker or something, and when I first saw it I was like, HOLY SHIT, WHY DID I NEVER THINK OF THAT), and he’s the prince of Inglenook, and there’s this guy named Silas Dengdamor, who’s some kind of minor prince in Inglenook somehow, and THEY. ARE. A GAY INTERRACIAL HIGH FANTASY COUPLE. THEY ARE IN LOVE.
           And the guy who plays Silas, Lee Majdoub, he’s really active on Twitter and Tumblr, which is crazy because almost no one is active on Tumblr under their real name and it’s mostly just depressed young adults like me, but Lee fields questions about the show all the time and talks about how it was an honor to play a gay prince and he has so much love for Silas and he put so much work into this character which you can tell because he has an answer ready for everything. Has he ridden that train we saw? Is he gay or bi or what? What are his hobbies? If he lived in our world what would his favorite movie be? His five favorite songs? Does he agree with his family’s stance on the feud? (Oh my god I forgot to MENTION that the Trosts and the Dengdamors are TWO FAMILIES AT WAR, which makes Silas and Panto basically gay Romeo and Juliet, but hopefully they won’t die but Dirk Gently is a “don’t get attached” kind of show.)
           And did I mention he’s respectful??? My favorite answer he’s ever given is when someone asked him what it was like to kiss Chris Russell (the other actor), which is a question every fucking presumed-straight actor gets when they play a gay role, and since there is a 4 inch height difference between them, Lee answered something like, “It was a little weird because Chris is very tall, so I felt a little like Natalie Portman in Thor. Natalie Portman and I both have dark hair so we’re practically twins.” Also he is very handsome. It is important that Lee Majdoub is very handsome. Okay, it’s important to me.
           Wow, glad I got that off my chest. It’s kind of all I ever want to talk about. Two weeks ago, before I could do my actual writing assignment for the day, I had to freewrite about Kevin Spacey for like AN HOUR. What I wrote ended up being kind of unusable for this class thus far, I just haven’t been pleased enough with the way it handled a very sensitive topic to hand it in, but it was about Kevin Spacey and Jeffrey Dahmer and OUT magazine and news media and Anthony Rapp and me.
           I wanted to write about a historical figure for this paper but all the ones I could think of that I have a strong connection to were gay. While I was typing that sentence, I thought of Dorothy Parker. Well, shit. Another day, then.
           This paper is what we call a RISK!!! pleasedontfailme
           Here are some excerpts from the other three papers I tried to write today:
·         Sometimes I sing and dance in front of them. Sometimes I scream. One time, I stood on a desk.
·         The last time I told her I was proud of her I could only do it because she had consumed an obscene amount of wine and called me to talk about one of Shakespeare’s history plays
·         I am afraid that I am a husk a husk a HUSK a husK a husk a husk a husk of Corn-ell because
I promise these essays were not good. These were the only good parts. I wanted to include them because I wanted you to understand that I covered a lot of fucking ground before settling on whatever the fuck this is. I am sorry if you feel you would rather be reading one of those other essays, but I did not want to write them.
           I just scrolled back up to the top because I remembered abruptly that this essay doesn’t have a name. It’s called Zoom Zoom now. When my sister is bored while she drives, she says, “Zoom zoom! We’re zooming!” She is 24 and has a master’s degree. This particular catchphrase of hers always comes to mind when I try to describe how my brain works—childish, too fast, bored. Her boyfriend says “Brroom brroom” when he drives. I think he picked it up from her. He calls me Thomathy. Because Thomas can be Tom for short and Tom is like Tim and Tim is short for Timothy. Get it? He says “Thomathy” sounds like a disease. I think he likes me anyway. Even though one time during a heated game of Monopoly I told him I would eat chips at his funeral.
           I have three cats. One is ten years old, the other two are one. I have a rabbit. He’s a jerk. That’s all you need to know about me. Oh, I’m from Wisconsin. My favorite color is orange.
           Yeah so thanks for coming to my TED talk. Please buy a t-shirt on my way out, they’re $20. I know TED talks don’t usually have t-shirts but I want your money. Yes. Now scram.
  Are they gone?
Jesus, I’m so fucking tired.
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