#every time i break out my sticker collection and see them im reminded of it. but i cant throw out the stickers theyre deltarune ones 😭

[toastsnaffler]

dating an art student was so crazy I'm just thinking abt that one birthday I had where my ex got me stickers from the etsy of the person they were cheating on me with....

[yung-savvv]

1 - 30 and please retype the question when you answer it. 🥺

This was really super sweet fam✨

What did you dream about last night?: My dad and I being close again and I cried in my sleep

What is your favorite color?: I love bright blues, pastel and saturated pinks, and bright purples.

Do you feel more connected to the moon or the sun?: I love the sun 🌞

Have you ever wished on a shooting star?: who hasn’t?

Name a movie that makes you genuinely laugh.: Boo! A Madea Halloween

When’s the last time you felt like you were floating?: A couple days ago, I landscape on the water and there was a floating dock I took a nap on for my break!

What do you enjoy daydreaming about most?: my future where I own a farm with the love of my life and tend to the crops and animals

Do you believe in guardian angels?: very much so

What’s a smell that reminds you of home?: Seafood, sazón Goya, this specific laundry detergent that somehow every tia Maria uses lmao

What is something (or someone) you’re in love with?: the sunsets, space, nature, music, and food

Describe the memory of the last time you felt true happiness.: probably not the last time, but this is a very vivid and memorable time. the hatch of my car was cracked, seats down, bundled under my fuzzy dog printed blanket, green waves spraying the air and the sun setting. The bottom of the sky sprawling across the ocean was the color of cantaloupe and the top layer was a powder blue. Stretched across from me was @bulletindi and we were eating take out and I was singing soft songs to her and we were laughing

Name a song that makes you feel ethereal.: Northern Wind by city & colour

What’s your ideal summer aesthetic?: tall grass bleached by the sun, it’s golden hour, cicadas humming in the distance, I’m in breathesble basketball shorts and a Cotton T-shirt. Funky socks and my Nike slides. Nothing around me but the sound of the birds and bugs and rustling grass in the light faint breezes. Closing my eyes basking in the light even tho it’s 8pm I’m thriving. Prolly sipping on an iced tea eating farm fresh peaches.

Talk about one of your most cherished childhood memories.: probably all the times I curled up with my grandmother and made her tea and sat on the floor n drew while she watched things like judge Judy or jerry springer 😂

Talk about something exciting or good that happened to you this year.: I made the honors & deans list for college & started landscaping this summer!

Where do you feel most at home?: around nature. For sure.

What is something you own that is important to you? What makes it so important?: I collect pins and stickers they all have different stories and memories attached to them like how n where I got them from 🤷🏽‍♀️

Do you believe dreams have meanings or are they completely random?: I feel like there’s always an underlying reason our conscience creates such stories and images in our minds

Do you believe in love at first sight?: connections yes but falling in love I believe is something gradual until it hits you all at once one day

What’s the sweetest thing someone has done for you?: luckily in my life I’ve met many sweet people. I’ve received flowers on my grandmothers birthday after she passed away because they knew it was a really rough day for me. My coworker who moved to Texas also hand made me a really dope card with my favorite Starbucks drink on it and related it back to me and she also got me a cake pop because I was sad one day 🤷🏽‍♀️

Do you believe in mermaids?: with only ~5% of our oceans being explored I don’t see why not

What do you like most about nature?: the flourishing life, the energy and vibrations, the endless curiosity and adventure and exploration, the birds who sing back to me

What’s your zodiac sign? Do you think you fit the general characteristics of that sign?: Gemini, I am very spontaneous and I can be very introverted or very outgoing and I can accommodate to people to make them more comfortable, but I don’t believe I’m two faced.

Are you more of a hopeless romantic or realist?: Knowing my heart Im definitely a hopeless romantic, but I have goals I wish to achieve and i know I can’t lose myself in someone so I have to be realistic but that doesn’t mean I won’t run the bath for you after a long day at work, send you letters even if you live down the street or surprise you or love you with every ounce of my being.

What’s a song that gives off good vibes anytime you listen to it?: it feels like summer

Do you usually remember your dreams?: yes

Have you ever written a love letter?: yes I have

Name a book you don’t mind reading over and over.: I love poetry, there’s too many to list.

Do you collect anything? And what are some hobbies you have?: I love pins, stickers, socks, seaglass and rocks. I like to geocache, sing, draw, i also own a lot of reptiles I used to breed to study genetics and rescue

What do you do to feel at peace?: smoke weed and lay down in the dark while hiding in my room or at the beach. Singing helps get my feelings out 😂

Idk if I missed any but thanks for listening/asking hope you enjoyed! 🤷🏽‍♀️✌🏽

[icharchivist]

perso-rant underneath and at first i intended it to be more light hearted but welp cant dive into myself without digging the bad stuff so just ignore this as rambling.

(idk if the cut works on mobile so as usual blacklist #ichapersonal to skip it , its quite long)

its night and im noisy and all but yknow part of the reason m/lb is such a healing show for me and i rewatch it every couple of days?

i cry everytime M.arinette's family is on screen pretty badly bc i get so envious all the time. i hate my shitty family (and often can relate to A.drien's ressentment) so just seeing such a /healthy/ family being often shown litterally brings me to tears. im like C.hat in the animan episode when he stares at the family picture with a sweet smile (another detail that stupidly make me cry who allowed th i s)

like. i dont relate to A.drien's relation to his family but some of the emotional effects is often a moment of "welp. mood." and being kinda sad /for him/ even if i can feel it for myself too. but then with M.arinette's family everytime they get to be on screen i realize how happy this sort of dynamic makes me and it makes me /so envious/.

like my mom is an artist and an excellent cook but she always barred those interests from me bc it was /hers/ and it was for /her ego/ and this attitude just killed every curiosity i had and remplaced it with a complete unability to care.

i used to bake as a kid but my mom was always shutting down everything i was doing, and if i was asking for help or recieps she would just tell le "it's a secret just watch " and never letting me know tf she was doing so i stopped lmao. everytime ive tried meals since it was only for myself and with a hard mocking from family and mom saying she had a better recieps and i should just let her do so i dont even try it often. (moreeven now that the kitchen is opened to the living room and they're super judgemental when im in it)

i was messing with drawings and paints in her workshop when i was a kid but she would always point out flaws and take my tools to correct it without telling nor showing me how and it killed it, it took me until my 14yo to start doing mindless doodles and then my breakdown when i was about 20 to seriously try back to draw and do art and try different tools (until my right hand made it impossible for me to hold a tool and the failure still feels yknow)

i wanted to sew things and make clothes (at the time for my dolls) but my mom was never letting me touch the tools (that we HAD since not only she made clothes but her mom actually had a fabrique shop. like. right next door. i think it became part of my mom's trauma hating her mom and refusing us to connect with her, more so with what happened when i was 7 and we lost contact with them but still, the damn irony. and i cant remember if my grandma ever let me close her sewing material but i was a damn kid after all) so this is another thing i didnt pursue

i wanted to pick up music (piano mostly) bc my uncle is a musician but my parents never wanted to invest in that because they already gave a piano to my sister (that i wasnt allowed to use) so ye that was dropped lmao

and i started to write when i was about 11 and it was that /one thing/ i didnt need help for from anyone, completely self taught, with my own ways and tools, and my parents were always dismissive of it, never listening to me, always telling me it wasnt important, that i should focus on something else, and after other circumstances that added to that i dropped writting around my 17/18yo and it had been painful to even try to write again since.(i came back to writing around my 20yo a bit before my breakdown but after it happened it started to die out and i felt exhausted and stopped after a few months and since then i've never been able to pick up writing again ay.)

(and im not touching the obsessive elements bc like- the fact she does it for her crush makes it different, but the sort of things she does? taking pictures and putting them everywhere in her room when she hyperfixates, making overcomplicated schedules and such? i litteraly do that with fiction. i made a freaking timeline for this show. i am currently working on organizing codex from d.a and an approval guide for christ sake. and im not talking about my multiple fandom shrines in my room and the fact i legit have one for m/lb made from pictures found on merchs.

or also the fact i have a lot of passions i'd love to share and seeing M. play video games with her dad for exemple makes me so bitter when all i get is backhanded insults from my parents when i bring it up.)

So sometimes i see M. and part of me is just in awe, loving everything about her. the other part of me tho... i feel... a bit robbed? like she's such a creative kid, she's incredible and she inspires me everyday, and i cant help but think how i would have adored her when i was a kid. (im not even kidding, as a kid i requested my mom a costume of black cat for h.alloween and a l.adybug costume for the carnaval. i have pictures of that at my dad's place sadly it kills me. also my room when i was a kid used to be covered with l.adybug stickers like. HELL my mom doesnt care about my interests but last year she bought me a M/LB winter callendar (bc its been years i was mentioning i wanted one, a selfish whim but oh well) and i had a huge double take bc i was certain she didnt remember me talking about this show- and she did not. when i asked her why, she legit told me "because she reminded me of you as a kid with your pigtails your obsession for l.adybugs". like!! i cant even stress how kid!me would have adored this show and especially LB./M.) (the pigtails too this time i have proofs around there i used to carry them all the time until i was bullied for it at school. (bullying at school instead of good friends also adds to the difference in question tbh lmao))

there is something so... weird into seeing the parts of yourself that you cut yourself from in a character, and see that the main difference is because of how the family (and bullies) treated those elements so drastically differently.

my family was always neglectful but differently than A.. the things i relate to with him is how he specifically still holds on hope that his father will do better at least just for one day and his reaction when he's left down saying he's just used to it. and like normal, not every kind of abuse are the same and all but i still relate enough to feel sad.

but M. is always a whiplash of feelings like i could have been this sort of girl in a better environment.

at 13/14yo she was already making stuff up, baking, designing clothes, doing art, she was doing so many things, even forgetting the superhero part. she was being happy being a creator at her pace and with encouragement. at 13/14yo i was starting to show concerning signs of d.epression because i was trying to handle my parents's divorces and the multiple trials that followed that /i/ had to handle by finding middle grounds, allowing some of my father's blackmail to avoid worse, and by litterally having to collect infos from mails everytime to prove against some of his arguments to the judges. and my sister refusing to talk to us for a year, which caused us basically to feel very bad thinking of the eldest sister who ran away from home, and having to handle my father's harrasment and emotional abuse of constantly belittling me (fuck this was the age he legit told me i would probably end up a p.rostitute so ye!!! fuck that!!!) andd the fact my mom was also falling apart from all of it on me and i was always supposed to cheer her up while i was having a hard time in a new school and new environment away from the very few friends i had and again feeling abandonned by my sister which freaking sucks after already had suffered that from our eldest one.

but M. makes me cry every. goddam. rewatch. its like maybe the ultimate wish fufilling story of just how i would have loved my family to be. of how i think i could have turned up.

and that realization hits so badly everytime.

there's a thing with my hyperfixations where i'll always find a way to tie it back to my traumas. i dont know if im pulling straws, or if the things are there. for having watched m.lb when it came out unfazed and only got hit with that realization upon rewatching- i feel it was more me realizing "there is something there that is touching me more than before" and having an introspection to get it.

and i think the difference is that- before my breakdown the characters and stories i related to where the eternal optimistic-yet-damaged "never give up!" type of characters. When things started to go downhill to my breakdown and since then the fictions that talked to me the most were all dealing with guilt coming from toxic environment that werent your fault per se but you pierceved that way. my way to relate were to characters who felt deeply connected to their guilt (peak being c.loud of f.f7 that even topped it with the deadly skin disease making him lose will to live (because ye that happened. still hate to watch out for that so ye), and memories issues, you would have told me at 13yo when i first watched that movie that this would be what i would relate to him about 7 years later i would have laughed at your face.), which translated with pushing people away and self destructing habits.

and i know i watched m.lb the first time around that time, when i was 20/21. and that may be why i didnt feel that. that my concerns were too elsewhere to realize that. That i was too focalized on how i felt like i failed by suddenly breaking under the pressure, having all the things i've kept burried kicking me out at once, and that i couldnt afford to be a burden to anyone. and it translated with me loving characters like that because in most cases their friends ended up reminding them of what was important - and sometimes just getting frustrated about your fav being as dumb as it forces you to pull yourself back together lmao. not always working but it was there.

now im 23. i cut ties with my father for about 3/4 years now, with all the shitty things that ensued out of the last trial where he sued me and his still-happening harrasment (sometimes silly sometimes scary). My mom and step dad are suffocating me more and more everyday. my health had become so disastrous i cant even manage to go school or find a job. And more than ever im frustrated and angry.

and i think it may be a shown of recovery? perhaps linked to therapy? of while i still have guilt of falling apart- /they/ are the reason i fell apart. and I'm yet to have proper apologizes for it. i grew furious at my family. of how much i feel robbed.

lately im so angry at everything i lost, was taken of, stolen childhood all of that- because of my parents, mainly. (hell even the bullying at school - in primary school it apparently started bc of gossips about why my eldest sister ran away from home, and in middle school it was first bc my parents insisted on sending me to private school where i was an outcast. which then had me truly embrassing the outcast persona that had made it impossible for me to be at peace in the two others middle schools i went to. highschool saved my social life tbh).

i think it's therapy and recovery that is making me shift the blame and feel so angry at them. so bitter. and suddenly i see in an innocent kid show a "what could have been". same starting personality, different people to channel this.

and this is. frustrating.

but it makes me love it even more. idk if its driving anything else than ressentment but at least for the time of an episode I'm in a bubble of a.lternative universe where i can forget about my life and feel satisfied at once.

like finding a piece of myself that i deliberately broke and burried to never think about it again, and realize far later how it missed to the whole, and how damaged this piece is now, but still is.

and there is something incredibly healing about that. i would never have thought there would be this much healing out of this anger and yet satisfaction. what a strange feeling.

fiction is funny that way. the things people can get out of it to deal with their own psyche are so different one person to the next.

it's just so weird for me to go from "i relate to the horrors this character went through" to "and fuck those horrors. let me think about what could have been if this didnt happen."

even moreso knowing i had this piece of fiction before and didnt approach it that way. there's a time and a mindset for everything. apparently now was the best mindset for me huh

.......

so ye apparently i cant like something like a normal person and have to go on about how it connects to my deeply rooted traumas lmao.

anyway it's been eating me up for weeks now and it's 4:45am i have absolutly no impulse holding me back. if you sat through this piece of work im sorry. just needed it to get it out of my chest.

i'll go back to hugging my cheap-yet-lifesaving c.laire's l.adybug pillow now

good night o/

[seventeenbiscuits]

#17 [alone pt. iii]

Word count: 1471

A/N: lifes good when im losing inspiration to finish this series but !! I !! will !! soldier !! on !!!

I knew it would catch up to me someday.

The curse, nestled in the gloomy depths of my mind had resurfaced as a wolf in sheep’s clothing, whispering and laughing through the empty silence that echoed through my empty apartment and down the phone line as I pressed my ear to the phone receiver, trembling.

   “Seungcheol, I found it.”

   “What?”

   “My prime. I found it.”

   “4643.”

With a dry laugh, a thin smile settled on my lips like the delicate landing of a butterfly, its sugar powdered wings dusting my cracked lips. As they parted to heave a soft sigh, the butterfly multiplied tenfold and dove straight into my stomach, beating their paper thin wings against the walls of my stomach, churning up a storm, raging against me. I uncapped a permanent marker, and absentmindedly wrote the number on my clammy palm.

   “Cheol?”

   “Yep, I’m listening.”

Or so I said, but I knew that I had already drifted off, let my emotions carry me off onto the endless seas of treacherous waters as I plunged headfirst into the depths of despair.

There was a guilty silence from the other end of the phone.

I could almost picture him, hair ruffled and cheeks flushed as he balanced himself on his toes, heart racing as he experienced the rush of adrenaline after finding out his prime number. There would be a pile of messy books next to him, on which the phone was balanced upon. I was completely certain that although his hands were in his pockets, his heart was chest deep and continuously sinking into an ocean of guilt-stricken distress.

   “I’m sorry.”

His voice was breaking up as it carried from him to me. I wondered if it was just the connection or the emotions that were finally spewing out, choking up his throat, swallowing his words.

Tears, hot and full of rage dripped down my nose and onto my hands, steaming.

   “I’m so sorry,”

He’s apologising, Seungcheol, I told myself, but it somehow didn’t seem like it.

I imagined him again, eyes full of relief as he dialled my number. He was carefree now, no more burdens except just the one he had to pass onto me.

   “Forget it, Jihoon.”

   “Cheol-“

   “Thanks anyway.”

And with that, I put the phone down with a trembling sigh, sunk down against the wall to put my head in my arms and I cried.

I didn’t know how long I stayed there, but it was cold when I stood up, stiffness clutching and grasping at every limb of me. I took a peep outside, lifting the blinds with frigid fingers to spy on the outside world. Cars rushed past, their drivers intent on getting to their destinations as quickly as they possibly could. People rushed by too, their heads down and their hands in their coat pockets, the cogs in their brains clicking and whirring as they all hurried along, wrapped in a daze of their own world and thinking.

I could see Jihoon in every passerby’s face, see that crinkled frown of concentration he made when he was thinking about something, see the way he strode along purposefully in every step a stranger took.

It was like he was resurfacing in everyone I saw just to remind me that I had something to do, that I had to figure out my prime number, that I couldn’t live with the curse forever.

And yet, I could see the scorn on his face when he saw me listless and lazy, I could hear his sharp words that cut cleanly into my heart and ripped open healing scars. He had always detested not doing anything, and therefore he always had a glare of annoyance for me every time I made excuses for why I couldn’t do something better than sitting around and cry about my life.

It was heartbreaking.

With a shiver, I turned away from the window and headed out to the door.

You wanted purpose, Jihoon?

I slipped on a pair of running shoes I hadn’t touched in forever and unlocked the door, wincing at the bright light.

Well, I have a purpose now.

And so I was running.

Sprinting, trying to get away from the strangers with condescending sneers and Jihoon’s frown, trying to get away from prime numbers and stupid curses.

Red brick walls plastered with posters and spritzed with graffiti, marked and scarred with messages and memories people had scratched and sprayed upon these walls.

And then as I stood in front of that one, particular wall, built with bricks of memories and bonded together with a friendship that spanned the years, I couldn’t take it anymore.

My eyes darted fleetingly, fickle-minded, over the individual names and signs across the wall that was remembered so fondly by all of us. I scanned the neon pink and the fluoro blue, gazing over the wasted years to a time where I was happy.

The sun was shining on the day that thirteen boys decided to get together and do something blatantly illegal, but recklessly fun. There was no one in this part of the city, and when three groups of adrenaline-dosed friends sprinted out of the inner city to the outskirts, there was nothing but the sound of distant cars and trains rattling by.

There was laughter, and there was teasing. The shaking of graffiti cans along with the spray of paint as we marked our territory. Someone had brought stickers, black with our logo on them, and was plastering them all over the wall like there was no tomorrow.

I was wearing white, a crisp, freshly ironed, the brand-new shirt that I had bought over the weekend. It was a stark difference to the brightly coloured outfits of the rest of the group, and I stood out against the deep red wall like a firework against the chilled night sky.

It was a good standing out and so I was the first to make my mark on the once plain wall.

“Seventeen”, I wrote, in bright and beautiful baby pink, going over it with silver after I finished.

“Very nice,” I wrote, underneath that, in an aqua colour so brilliantly bold that it hurt my eyes to look at it.

There was a loud, collective burst of laughter from behind me, and before I knew it, Jeonghan had sprayed a nice thick line on the back of my shirt.

I remember thinking, “Oh no, I’ll have to wash it,” and then the blaring horn of a truck as it trespassed on my daydream shook me back to reality.

The vibrant hues of the graffiti faded to ghosts of their former colours, and as the memory disintegrated around me, I took a look at my shirt.

Crisp, white, the one shirt I had bothered to iron.

I bet there’s still a line on the back, I thought.

With a sigh, I looked at the wall again, the ghost of a smile just alighting on my lips, tugging them up when I looked at each member’s sign.

Seventeen.

All of us.

I stuck my hands in my pockets and walked away.

There was nothing I could do when the group fell apart, I reassured myself, trying to dispel the gnawing guilt that grew inside me when I thought of Seventeen and our final days together as one.

A voice inside me whispered, “Are you sure?”

I stopped in my tracks.

I could have done something.

As the leader, I was expected to do something.

I could have tried harder to keep us together, but instead, I gave up on Seventeen and I gave up on myself.

With a heavy heart, sinking into my shoes like lead, I spun around and walked back to the wall.

Seventeen.

It was like something inside me shattered and broke into a thousand pieces.

I could feel the mask I plastered over my face crack until I was surrounded by nothing but the fragments of my built up, useless walls and the pieces of a grinning clay mask.

When I blinked again, it was like being young all over again.

The graffiti was bold, daring, alive like the thirteen teenage boys had come back and resprayed their logos.

Everything was awash with colour, even the sky was a chiselled stone, ribboned with white marble that was so much more interesting and demurely fascinating than the lifeless concrete grey that was there before.

I took a good look around, at all the buildings, the chain link fence, the abandoned car parts that would lay there to rust and collapse until grass finally grew over them and laid them to rest.

Then I looked back.

Seventeen.

17.

“That’s it,” I exhaled in relief.

Thanks for reading!

[podcastmecaptain]

the stim bin

part of advanced PLACEMENT: an ars PARADOXICA high school au about a gang of queer teen nerds, by @estherroberts​ , @podcastmecaptain , and @lizzieraindrops

all three of the aformentioned dorks are equally responsible for the hijinks found in this post. today as well all three aforementioned dorks are neurodivergent folks writing about neurodivergent folks.

click here for the au masterpost | track #ars placement for updates!

ALSO: things aren’t always showing up in the tags, so your most reliable bet is the aforementioned masterpost.

attention: all contents incredibly neurodivergent

everyone shares those fidget cubes

collectively they have like five

in so many colors

esther also designs a giant version that’s like. the size of a KEYBOARD and with lots more options and Bigger

jack builds it

they call it the stimboard deluxe

anthony has nintendo

sally brings him all her childhood games and watches him hyperfocus

sally and anthony were the first autistic friend each other had and they love sharing weird stuff from their childhoods that nobody else liked

they have a lot of overlap of interests and they spent so long without anyone like them who really got them

and they both feel so safe and loved not only with each other but with the whole gang because everyone’s neurodiv af even if they’re not sure in exactly what way

anthony brings notes everywhere

scribble scribble

Doing The Right Thing, Doing Science For Good is sort of his ruling philosophy

a lot of times it’s really easy to lead him down the wrong path if he thinks it’s Science For Good

he has some problems with gullibility

the pressure stimming is too real

PRESSURE! STIM! HUGS!

Big Coats or Lab Coats

fiddling with his glasses

he’s bad at artistic/creative things and just doesn’t get it. he can follow a pattern tho,

polish patterns work for him, especially with tape. he likes taking care of his nails because he’s v tactile, he likes the smooth feeling of the polish and likes tapping his nails

he either gets really anxious or angry about Bad things

breakdowns, breaking things, and weirdly quick recoveries

he could hug people for hours

he usually does if he’s had a panic attack, but other than that acts like he’s fine

canon says sally eats weird and has a disturbing appetite so like,

sally separating EVERY SINGLE FOOD by group and flavor and texture and then like putting one piece of one in her mouth at a time and keeps TALKING CAUSE SHE’S A DORK

other options:

SHREDS EVERYTHING AND EATS IT WITH A STRAW

eats only EXACTLY one quarter of anything at a time and forgets the rest

uses her hands for THINGS SHE SHOULD NOT

burnt things

she love the Cronch

puts things together that should not even touch

jack cries the day he sees her dip pickles in whipped cream and shove a fistful of blue cheese blissfully into her mouth immediately after that

sally’s special interests:

electronics, gadgets, tinkering, SCIENCE, beginning quantum physics, computers

stims by tinkering and uses voice recordings for vocal stims, plays with her hair and bites her nails, spinning, dancing, tapping tools

hands on everything

the dancing is so bad and uses her full body (it’s actually so cute)

is a bad driver bc she either hyperfocuses on the road or she starts TALKING and gets lost in anything BUT driving

sally wears her lab coat everywhere

she plays with the seams, runs the fabric between her fingers, tugs on the corners of it to create pressure on her shoulders

sometimes she spins in a circle just to let the fabric flap behind her like a cape

tags on clothing are EVIL

she takes them out with a seam ripper till there’s no traces

sallys clothes are always a little large and odd bc if they’re not comfy she Dies

no really she’ll end up in a ball somewhere crying because of sensory grossness

she has serious sensory processing issues

sometimes it’s really a Drag but she loves fiddling with things so much and it feels so good and she wouldn’t give it up for the world

she has a watch that sometimes she’ll make clicking noises along with the tick tick tick tick

lots more under the readmore!

sally is the queen of weighted blankets

she always has one readily accessible in case she needs to wrap up in it

the gang Knows this and they’re always asking her to borrow one

like one time esther texts sally like “help me im having sensory issues and i need hugs”

and sally turns up with not one but TWO heavy blankets

(she may have fallen over once or twice trying to carry both of them)

(just these two lil scurrying feet on skinny legs goin patpatpatpat supporting this huge bundle of extra-weighted bedding floating down the hall)

she wraps esther in them and then squeezes her, too

for good measure, sally gets up on her tippie toes and rests her chin on esther’s head

esther, muffled: “i am a burrito now”

sally: “a precious tiny gay burrito”

or, estherrito

bridget puts her in her phone contacts as ‘ettie burrito’

and sally in turn puts her in hers as ‘questherdilla’

also oh my god when will she Stop doing fingerguns with accompanying tongue clicks

sally talks to herself

she has a little wee tape recorder named Diane because Diane

its covered in stickers

she likes to record what she’s doing to organize herself and calm down

and she’ll replay them to process things

sometimes her friends will leave happy messages on there for her

or helen will sing her a little ditty

helen is the world’s best audio stim

her voice is just really soothing

she’ll sing absently and everyone just operates more smoothly for that minute

she likes singing for herself too

humming and tapping her instrument is a soothing habit

helen is very audio/vocal

she likes to play the same song over and over again

bridget has some issues with self image

she also has obsessive tendencies, sometimes related to organization and labeling things

but also related to literature and only being able to talk about whatever she’s into

sometimes it’s easier to quote things from her favorite books instead of replying in her own words

she doesn’t like things that are uneven or unbalanced

objects OR concepts that are unfair or unequal

(except her hair. her hair is badass and she’s okay with that kind of disunity)

esther’s adhd and her big stims are

high heel clicks on the floor when she walks

fancy & feminine clothes that make her feel secure

the ritual of putting on her makeup

pencils (tapping or twirling)

HER RINGS, she has three and she spins spins spins

she likes to rub the shaved side of bridget’s head

and run her fingers through the hair on the other side

she ALWAYS has her father’s old deck of cards with her, she’s shuffled them so many times they’re completely worn down, and no one is allowed to touch them but her

they’re very soft, she has a new pack as well for crisper sound/feeling and everyday use

sometimes she uses card games as lens to make sense of the world

she has a rough time with communication and a rough time with empathy but she’s trying to work on both of those

both come easier with people she’s close to and bridget is helping her some too

it’s easy for her to hyperfocus in class and doing homework, so it took them a while to diagnose her

out of all of them, esther is the best at reminding people to be organized and do self-care (tho she doesn’t always take care of herself)

she spends a lot of her time in her own head, she really values alone time, and she needs to recharge after she spends time around people

even people she loves

jack’s also adhd, had been diagnosed for a while and has almost all of the opposite symptoms as esther (which is another one of the reasons it took them so long to figure out esther)

jack always works better after he moves, if he runs a little or bounces a ball around or is shaking his legs, rocking on his heels

he makes lots of rolling rrr sounds and blows his lips when he’s frustrated

the pencil chewing ended in splinters and the pen chewing ended in ink all over so now he has a little necklace with a chewable shark

the sharks name is Fredrico

his binder is actually kinda helpful because it’s pressure

he screws and unscrews things a lot

actually taking apart and putting back together all machinery is a Big Thing

june is dyslexic

she has cute tinted glasses to help her with studying

sometimes helen reads stuff out loud for her, she doesn’t mind but june hates to ask

for her birthday quentin bought her a five sided highlighter to color code different things

she has some emotional processing issues

it’s easier to feel angry than anything else

& her methods of dealing with anger aren’t super healthy either

quentin is the only one who actually can manage himself

Quentin is a Hydrated Boy

(he has great skin)

quentin always comes across as super chill but that’s actually because he has hella anxiety and works really hard to manage it

penny is autistic and if june and helen are the dad and mom friends and esther is the gay cousin

then sally and anthony are the autistic aunt and uncle who adopt penny as their niece

they can spot one of their own from a mile off and just decided We Gonna Take Her Under Our Big Fluffy Damn Wings

penny is the Flappiest Autistic

big happy arm flaps, upset little hand flaps, her fast excited flaps are literally the best and most joyous thing

she’s always been kinda embarrassed and insecure about it but jack is so supportive

he’s only a moderate flapper but he often flaps with her when she does it

and he calls her his butterfly

this melts her heart and makes her feel happy and not weird and when this happens she is prone to flapping even harder

she calls him her moth

they’re precious fluttery darlings

sometimes when they both get going, sally joins in too and they all spin around the room fluttering in a big flappy tornado

it’s Good