#i feel like I’m like this because of my adhd

[fruitisthenewvegitable]

Sometimes I think I’m not of the Buried.

But then I remember the feeling of being under my blanket. Of wrapping a belt or skirt around my waist. The feeling of my friends leaning on my chest at a sleepover. Of wearing oversized and warm clothes. Of closing my bedroom door and pulling the curtains shut so that all I know is this space I’ve decorated for myself and no other. The feeling of being held.

Sometimes I think that the buried is simply not for me. But then I remember all the times that weight on my chest and belly and legs and back has comforted me in a way not many other things can. In a way that makes me feel secure. In a way that grounds me until I am ready to face the world again.

I used to think the Buried wasn’t for me. But then I remembered that without weight on my chest I would simply float away into the outer depths of space, somewhere I would love to see but hate to exist in. And that if I were to pick between never setting foot on the confining grounds of the earth, letting all my worries and fears go, and flying off to the horizon, the border of our atmosphere, the moon, the sun, and the stars, never stopping until I simply couldn’t anymore, or choose the earth. Then I would still choose the earth, for even if it keeps all my discomforts, it still holds the weight that gives me the ability to calm and ground myself until I am ready to face the world anew, so that I may experience the joy of the presence of others and not just the burning core of the stars, for being able to face the things outside my door is what makes me who I am.

And I fucking love who I am.

So I will take the weight and pressure and comfort that allow me to think straight, and once I am calm again I will have my strength back.

[mavigator]

i talked about it a little bit already but i have things to say about it. for context, i was born with amniotic band syndrome. the amniotic band wrapped around my left wrist in utero and stunted the growth of my hand. i was born with about half a palm, four nubs for fingers, and a twisted half of a thumb. i can open and close my thumb and pinkie joint like a claw.

yesterday at work i had a shift in the room with 5-10 year old kids. i had my left hand hidden in my sleeve (a bad habit of mine). a kid asked if he could see my hand, and even though internally i was debating running into traffic, i said “sure you can” and showed him my hands. he stared for a moment, looking disturbed, and then said “i don’t want to look at that anymore”. that hurt to hear, but i understand that kids are new to the world and he probably didn’t mean it out of malice. i put my hand away again, told him that it was okay, and that i was just born that way.

he then went on to talk about how he knows a kid with a similar hand to mine and called it “ugly”. i told him that wasn’t a very kind thing to say and that he wouldn’t feel good if someone said that to him, and he replied that no one would say that to him—because he has “normal hands”, and he’s glad he does because otherwise he’d be “ugly”. i tried to talk with him for a bit about how everybody is born differently, but he just started talking about a girl he knows with a “messed up face” and pulled on his face to make it look droopy. i went on some more about how it wasn’t very kind to talk about people that way, but the conversation moved on to something else.

i’ve told my supervisors about it and they’re going to have a talk with his mom. what i wanted to say is this: i’m genuinely not upset with the kid. kids are young and naturally curious, and he clearly simply hasn’t been taught about disabled people and kind ways to speak to/about others. which is why i am upset with his parent(s). i know he’s encountered visibly deformed/disabled people before (he said so himself!), yet his parent(s) clearly haven’t had any kind of discussion with him about proper language and behavior. i knew from birth that some people were just different than others, but my parents still made a point to assert to be kind to and accepting of others. i wonder if adults in his life are the type of people to hush him and usher him away when he points out someone in a wheelchair. that kind of thing doesn’t teach politeness. it tells children that disabled people are an Other than can’t be acknowledged or spoken about; which, to a child, means disability must be something bad.

i’m lucky enough that this was a relatively mild incident, and that i’m a grownup with thicker skin. i’m worried about the other kids he mentioned to me. has he been talking to them this way? when i was a kid, i had other kids scream, cry, and run away at the sight of my hand. or follow me around pointing at me and laughing at me. or tell me i couldn’t do something because i was ugly or incapable or whatever. one time a girl at an arcade climbed to the top of the skeeball machine, pointed at me, and screamed at me to put my hand away and wouldn’t stop crying until she couldn’t see me anymore. another time, a kid saw my hand, screamed at the top of her lungs, and ran into my friend’s arms, crying hysterically about how i was scaring her. that second incident made me cry so hard i threw up when i got home. i can kind of laugh it off now, but having people react to me that way as a child is something i’m still getting over. why do you think i have a habit of keeping my hand in my sleeve? it just irritates me to see children that have clearly not been taught basic manners and kindness—their parents Clearly missed something pretty important .

[maxgicalgirl]

No but for real have we found a solution for rejection sensitive dysphoria yet ? Like does anyone else who has this have coping mechanisms that work ? I am genuinely asking please help

[figofswords]

anybody remember the stephanie brown essay I was working on under a research grant fully last summer? yeah it’s not done yet it super needs to be done and I’ve been avoiding working on it for weeks. someone tell me to just do it already

[podcast-hemocytoblast]

Corruption Leitner that turns you into a politician

[sesamestreep]

50 jyn/cassian? 👀

50. the hands of fate (from this prompt list)

After such a crushing defeat, Cassian decides that what he and his teammates really need is another round, and since everyone else is still arguing over the finer points of the last question, he decides it’s up to him to make that happen. Luckily, the bar is not particularly crowded at that moment, so he’s able to get the attention of the bartender right away.

“What can I get for you?” she asks, leaning slightly across the bar to hear him better.

It takes him a minute to remember why he’s there, because he’s been doing trivia at this bar for the last few months and he’s never seen this bartender before, which is only notable because she’s exceptionally pretty. She’s got bright green eyes, and hair that manages to be messy in a way he suspects might actually be fashionable, and she’s wearing a black tank top that shows off some very cool-looking tattoos on her biceps. The usual Thursday night bartender barely even looks at him when she takes his order, let alone going so far as to actually speak to him in full sentences.

“Did you want to order something?” she asks, warily, and her expression shutters in the way of an experienced customer service professional who’s used to dealing with drunk people and skeevy men with alarming frequency.

Cassian shakes his head, as if to clear his mind so he doesn’t (rightfully) earn this bartender’s wrath by staring for another minute. “Yeah, sorry,” he says, adopting what he hopes is a genial expression. “We just got our asses handed to us at trivia, so my cognitive function hasn’t fully returned yet.”

The bartender offers him a half-smile at that and nods. “Take your time.”

“Uh, I think I’m just going to get another round for everyone,” Cassian says, and then rattles off his team’s drink orders. The bartender nods and, even though she doesn’t stop to write it down, he has a feeling she’s got it memorized.

She starts making a drink in front of him, and only looks up a moment later when she realizes he’s still there. “I can bring them over when I’m done,” she says, pointing her chin in the direction of his table while her hands are occupied pouring vodka into a cocktail shaker.

“Oh, right,” Cassian says, stupidly. “That would be great. I, uh, already mentioned my brain’s not working, right?”

She laughs a little, which feels sort of like a victory, and shakes her head. “Must have been a tough loss.”

“We came this close to winning for once!” he can’t help griping. “But no one on my team knew the names of the three Fates in Greek mythology.”

The bartender tosses the shaker from side to side in a practiced motion, and gives him a barely interested look. “You mean, the Moirai?” she asks.

Cassian barely stops himself from gaping at her. “I, uh, think they wanted the individual names, actually.”

“Oh, so like Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos, then?”

“Jesus, do you write the questions?”

She smiles and pulls a glass out from under the counter. “No,” she says, as she deftly pours the contents of the shaker into the glass. “I just went through a very intense Greek mythology phase when I was a kid.”

“Thank god. I was beginning to think I was just stupid!”

“The two ideas are not mutually exclusive,” she replies, breezily, as she tosses an olive into the drink. “I’ll bring your drinks right over, unless you want me to keep talking to you about mythology.”

There actually isn’t anything Cassian wants more at the moment, but he’s already lost so much dignity at trivia that he can’t afford to lose anymore getting shut down by this beautiful bartender, so he nods and thanks her before he heads back to his table. Bodhi has finally stopped reading Wikipedia on his phone (a time-honored post-loss tradition for them) and is sitting with his head resting on Taidu’s shoulder. Melshi, on the other side of the table, is slumped in his chair, staring into the dregs of his beer.

“Another round incoming,” he says, clapping Melshi on the shoulder.

“Thank god,” Melshi replies, sitting up.

“We are bad at trivia,” Bodhi proclaims, which is also a time-honored tradition.

“We did better this time,” Taidu counters.

“Yeah, but we still lost.”

“Progress over perfection.”

“Stop being reasonable,” Melshi groans. “The wound is still too fresh.”

“You know what’s great for treating wounds?” a voice over Cassian’s shoulder asks. “Alcohol!”

The beautiful bartender appears then, with their drinks on a small tray and starts depositing them on the table, where Taidu immediately helps divvy them up to their respective recipients.

“What are you doing here?” Bodhi asks her, which seems like an odd response. Cassian looks between the two of them, puzzled.

“I told you I was working tonight,” the bartender replies, resting the now-empty tray on her hip.

“No, you didn’t.”

“I sent you a text!”

“Oh,” Taidu says. “That was your first mistake. He never reads his texts.”

“Shut up,” Bodhi says, thumping him lightly on the shoulder. “I read texts! I even reply to them! I am a functional person!”

Taidu and the bartender scoff at the same time, and Cassian is definitely missing something.

“So, why are you working tonight?” Bodhi asks, before Cassian can figure out a way to ask what’s going on without seeming rude. “I mean, I read your text, for sure, but like…remind me?”

“Kennel no-call, no-showed and Baze asked me to fill in.”

“What?! Tell me everything!”

“I just did. She didn’t call out or give notice so I have no idea what happened.”

“Okay, that’s more boring than I expected,” Bodhi says, sounding disappointed. “I always thought she’d get fired for coming after you with a knife or something.”

“You and me both, buddy,” the bartender says.

“Kennel is the usual Thursday night bartender?” Taidu asks, speaking for all of them.

“Yeah,” Bodhi says. “She’s fucking nuts.”

“Good riddance,” she agrees. Then, she turns her attention to Cassian, pointing at him with her elbow. “I put the drinks on your tab, by the way.”

Cassian blinks at her in surprise. “Oh, right. Yeah. Good. Did I—sorry, I don’t think I gave you my name, so…”

“No, but I know Bodhi, which means I also know Taidu, naturally, and I’ve met Melshi before, so I guessed you were probably Bodhi’s other co-worker, Cassian, who he does trivia with but whom I’ve never met and there was a card with that name behind the bar, so…”

“Okay, seriously, are you some kind of savant or something? Between this and knowing all of the trivia answers…”

She smiles. “I have the distinct advantage of being more sober than almost everyone in the room, which gives the impression of genius where there is none.”

“Bodhi, you didn’t tell Cassian your roommate worked here, did you?” Taidu asks suddenly, sounding amused.

Bodhi smacks himself on the forehead. “She doesn’t normally work Thursdays,” he admits, miserably, before looking up. “Cassian, this is my roommate, Jyn. She works here.”

“Jyn. Right,” Cassian says, feeling some puzzle pieces slot into place. “I’ve heard a lot about you. It’s nice to finally meet.”

“Same,” she says, extending a hand for him to shake and giving him a mysterious smile. “Though Bodhi did say you were the ringer on the trivia team, and you didn’t even know the names of the Moirai.”

“Cassian is the ringer,” Melshi says, “which just goes to show how terrible the rest of us are.”

“I think Kay was technically our ringer,” Cassian replies.

“Until he got perma-banned,” Bodhi adds, dejectedly.

“Kay?” Jyn asks. 

“My roommate,” Cassian specifies. “It was for the best, he argued with the host too much.”

“Oh, that guy,” she says, nodding. “Baze and Chirrut have his picture hung up in the office. We throw darts at it, uh, lovingly.”

Cassian waves away the sheepish look she gives him. “I live with him. I understand the impulse. Anyway, that’s how Taidu ended up joining us.”

“Lucky them,” he says, raising his glass in a mock toast. “I know nothing, it turns out.”

“I mean, if they ever need someone to answer a question about the intricacies of Formula 1, you’re their man,” Jyn says.

“Taidu watches a lot of F1 at our apartment,” Bodhi explains. “He’s trying to get Jyn into it.”

“It’s not nearly violent enough for my tastes,” she says, mildly. “Anything else before I go back to the bar? Need me to name all the Argonauts, perhaps?”

“Oh, you’re going to be insufferable about this, aren’t you?” Bodhi asks, covering his face with his hands.

“It’s going to be like the eagle, pecking out Prometheus’s liver every day, only it’ll be me taunting you with Greek mythology facts.”

“Mythological facts, huh?” Melshi asks.

“I’m sorry,” Jyn says, leaning in close. “I have trouble hearing people who’ve never won bar trivia in their lives.”

“You’re right,” he replies, holding his hands up in defeat. “You got us there.”

“Next week,” Cassian says emphatically, “is going to be our week. I’m calling it.”

The pitying look Jyn gives him before she leaves their table does nothing to bolster his confidence—nor does it quell the spark of attraction he felt when he first saw her. He was really hoping the revelation that she’s Bodhi’s roommate might help with that, but no such luck. If anything, he likes her more now; Bodhi has always talked about Jyn in glowing terms and Cassian can see now that she lives up to her reputation. 

He realizes only a little belatedly that he’s been watching her walk away, which feels like a bridge too far, and catches Melshi giving him an unimpressed look. He schools his expression into something overly innocent and Melshi snorts before returning his attention to his beer.

They hang around, replaying their demoralizing defeat for the tenth time and vowing (as always) to do better next time, until their drinks are finished and then everyone gets ready to leave. Melshi heads off for the train with a sardonic salute and Taidu and Bodhi head off in search of a cab, while Cassian lives close enough that he’s just going to walk home. He is already halfway out the door when he realizes he left his credit card at the bar.

He does a heel turn and heads back in, waiting at the least crowded corner of the bar until he can get someone’s attention. He’s seen a few people milling around behind the bar all night, but as far as he can tell Jyn is the only bartender on and she’s the only one there now, which means she’s busy, so he settles in to wait once he catches her eye and she gives him a nod to say she’ll be right with him.

“Sorry about that,” she says, when she finally makes her way over to him around five minutes later. “We’re short-staffed, as you know. I didn’t know Thursdays were this busy!”

“No problem,” Cassian says, signing his receipt and handing it back to her while he pockets his card. “I’ve got nowhere to be.”

Jyn drums her fingers on the bar as she considers him. “You should know,” she says, after obvious deliberation, “I only date people who win at bar trivia.”

He could not possibly have heard that correctly. “I…what?”

“I think it’s only fair that you know this about me, since you’re making your interest known.”

“I wasn’t—that’s not what—I wasn’t saying I’ve got nowhere to be like that, just that I wasn’t in a hurry! I was not trying to—”

“Sure.”

“I’m serious. It was just an expression!”

She treats him to the most exaggerated, patronizing nod of all time. “Right. And you were absolutely not checking me out earlier.”

“I was not doing that,” Cassian says, and it’s frankly embarrassing how transparent of a lie it is.

“I don’t blame you,” Jyn says, shrugging her shoulders. “I’m very cute.”

“Huh. Now that you mention it…”

She smiles, one of those mysterious, knowing ones he finds so intriguing. “Bodhi did always say he thought you and I would get along if we ever met.”

“Too bad you have such high standards,” he replies, easily. “I could think of a few ways we could get along better.”

“Well, there’s always next week,” she offers.

“You mean, next week when we’re going to win trivia and you’re going to give me your number? That next week?”

Jyn shakes her head, but he can see she’s fighting a smile. “I admire your optimism.”

“Get ready to admire my intellect too,” he says, “when I win bar trivia.”

“Whatever you say, Cassian.”

*

“So,” Cassian says, as he leans up against the bar a week later after trivia has wrapped up, “are you absolutely sure you couldn’t be talked into dating someone much much dumber than you?”

Jyn’s answering laugh, surprised and delighted and unrestrained, makes him feel so much prouder of himself than winning trivia ever could. Not that he knows for sure, of course, never having done the latter, but if he had to guess.

[areyoucereals]

me: *dresses and behaves like the current celebrity or fictional character i’m idolising/inspired by*

my parents: don’t copy other people, be yourself.

me: *stops behaving like other people*

my parents: don’t do that, stop being weird.

me: um… *goes back to modelling myself over fictional characters*

[rackartyg]

in therapy today i just talked about the dark urge and astarion and my therapist was elated about it. it was fantastic. “wow you’ve really been using this story and those characters to process things. that’s amazing!”

the era of being ashamed of my interests is over. it’s apparently Cool and Healthy to use fiction to cope. i wish i could tell fifteen year old me about this it would blow her mind

[xmcu-fietro]

anyone know any tips for hacking into that sweet adhd hyperfocused state of mind when you’re depressed and apathetic about life 🙃

[voidchillz]

Hello Tumblr!

I’m back and I’m writing again :>

Apologies for the mini-hiatus, some shit’s been going on and I’m dealing with it.

But! I have a one shot fic in the works and I’m excited to say it’s gonna be a long one for you Underfell Sans lovers~

YES! THE ONE! THE ONLY! SO PAY ATTENTION!

Finally! A dedicated and in depth smut/fluff/soft angst from yours truly!

Now the reason I’m posting (✨🔑 jingle jingle🔑✨) is because I wanted to announce I am writing this as a self insert (✨🔑 jingle jingle🔑✨)

While I was wanting to write a Y/N fic so you guys may enjoy it more, I realised I’ve barely gotten into my sona stuff despite me wanting to write more self-indulgent fics (✨🔑JINGLE JINGLE LOOK AT THE SHINY KEYS JINGLE JINGLE🔑✨) that and I can write in a lot more detail when it’s a sona rather than a reader perspective (✨🔑J I N G L E J I N G L E🔑✨)

Now do understand that I’m writing it like this because this short fic has a specific direction I want it to go in that I thought you all would like (✨🔑 jingle jingle🔑✨) so while I will still write SansXReader stuff, this one is very specifically for me as well as you guys :) (✨🔑 jingle jingle🔑✨)

[puppyeared]

footnotes arent enough I need you to talk to me like im fucking Amelia Bedelia

[roseofcards90]

I genuinely think I’m going insane

[nimikyu]

I love being medicated for adhd but it makes times that I am unmedicated about 1000 times harder :/

[anonymous-tals]

I’m planning on making a video essay type thing on Gob being neurodivergent, focusing on autism, adhd and dyslexia, and how that influenced how he was treated by his parents and family as a whole.

I have a lot of examples from throughout the show of things that support these hcs, but I thought I’d put this out there and say if you have any moments you think are pertinent, or any other neurodivergent hcs you feel could be touched on that is evidenced in his portrayal in the show, feel free to comment or message me or whatever. If you’d like, I’ll credit your contribution(even if not specifically credited, though, I will of course credit there being outside help).

[tenderpoc]

I really got diagnosed/medicated for my ADHD and then could focus enough to start reading books again. I’m not saying it was all ADHD and not laziness but 1/2 of the way is helpful

[chialattea]

people will be so understanding of mental illnesses/ ND until they spend more time with a person who can’t get rid of the symptoms and suddenly it’s all “I think you could fix it if you just put some alarms” “have you tried doing a todo list” “have you tried simply not thinking those intrusive thoughts” gee thanks man you know who else finds living with this shit annoying? ME.