#autism speaks down NOT speak for me or anyone else

[my-autism-adhd-blog]

Hi everyone,

So, as you may or may not know, The Good Doctor is airing its last season.

I’ve heard mixed reviews about this show, so I was skeptical about watching it. However, my skepticism turned into anger as I came across THIS.

Freddie Hiemore isn’t even autistic himself. Another bad representation for us autistic people. And the fact that this was supported by and hate group makes it even worse. I found another article explaining the ableism and inaccuracy of said group.

Anyway, I’m happy the show is ending. Young Sheldon too. I don’t like it when the media makes autistic people so smart like savants, or to an offense way of portraying those with level 2-3 autistic people.

The media really needs autistic actors to play autistic people. They know what it’s like to be autistic and the struggles they can go through.

That’s all I had to say. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

[drchucktingle]

THE TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION HAVE ISSUED AN APOLOGY AND A RE-INVITATION. HERE IS MY STATEMENT

hello buckaroos. the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION have issued a formal statement and apology which you can read at the attached link.

while i find the language used to discuss what was done a little unsatisfying, i would like to start by saying i appreciate anyone taking steps to prove love is real and make things right. the genuine feeling of ‘realizing you have made a mistake and hurt someone else’ is a terrible one, and i have so much empathy for this group as they reckon with their choices causing harm. i appreciate their apology.

i also think more good than bad has come from this situation. i am so thankful this happened to me (someone with a large social media presence) and not a smaller buckaroo author without the means to stand up for themselves. i think the next time someone comes to the TXLA with an accommodation need, they will hopefully be taken more seriously

lets trot down to business about specifics now. the TXLA has re-invited chuck to the original panel and even offered to take a moment at the top of the panel to talk about what happened. this is very kind of them and i will say THANK YOU. 

unfortunately i will also have to decline.

the fact that it took this much effort, social media backlash, and discussion to let me simply EXIST PHYSICALLY in a way that is authentic to myself is not a good sign. if this organization immediately questions an authors chosen presentation in this manner, i cannot imagine what my other accommodations would be met with.

sometimes i am at an event and i very quickly need extra space to breathe. sometimes i am at an event and i need special guides to help me along from place to place. these are not ‘big asks’ and every other conference has gladly provided them, but if the TXLA had this kind of initial reaction to my physical appearance, i cannot imagine them readily helping with my other needs without ‘proof’.

this is clearly not a safe place to trot for those who require additional accommodations. regardless of any apology, their ACTIONS have shown that people who appear unusual or unique are not welcome at this event on a subconscious level. i believe the TXLA have some serious inner work to do beyond this apology, and i believe this inner work will involve actions more than words.

but even more importantly i would like to make this very important point: IT DOES NOT MATTER IF MY MASK IS A DISABILITY AID OR NOT. i appreciate the way this discussion has allowed us to trot out some deep talks on autism and proved love in this way, but i think there is a much more important point at hand.

regardless of WHAT someone looks like, it is not the job of an event or conference to pick apart WHY. physical presentation can be a part of someones neurodivergence, or gender, or sexuality, but i can also just exist as a nebulous undefined part of their inner self. it can be a piece they are not ready to openly discuss yet. the guests at TXLA are authors (aka ARTISTS) and the idea that a conference dedicated to an ART is going to deny people with unique and unusual presentations for ANY reason is absurd. since when are we applying a ‘dress code’ to our artists?

without knowing it, i personally believe there is an element of the ‘good queer, bad queer’ phenomenon going on here. there is a push to say ‘LOOK we accept these marginalized groups and cultures’ but behind the scenes that means ‘we accept these marginalized groups and cultures who are quiet and speak in turn and wear the metaphorical suit and tie’. it is easy to show diversity when you only take on the voices that arent too ‘strange’.

to prove my point i ask you this: do you think orville peck would have FOR ONE SECOND been asked to perform at the texas library association event without his mask?

so with that i say ‘very sincerely, thank you, but i will have to decline the re-invitation. maybe next year’

[sturniozo]

Our Lips Are Sealed II

Masterlist

AN: Hey guys this is just a quick note to tell you, I decided to make y/n in this story autistic. As an autistic person I haven’t seen a lot of autism representation in x reader fics for the triplets. I’ve seen headcannons and one shots but not full fics with multiple parts, so here is one!

Anyways, enjoy! I love you guys so much! xx - Angel

Nate always brings me along when mom’s gone and he’s hanging out with his friends. I don’t mind it, I’m not much for making friends of my own. I didn’t really know how to talk to people. It mostly made me uncomfortable to start conversations, or keep them going.

And it was different. Everything was different. It seemed to be so easy for Nate to be friends with everyone, why was it so hard for me? I remember talking to people, and they’d give each other the look. That look for just a moment. I knew what they were thinking too. They were thinking I talk too much, or that I was too loud or too excited.

It just came so easy to Nate. But he never made me feel bad about it. He’s my big brother, and he always looked out for me. That’s why he brings me along with him to hang out with his friends. He knows. He knows how hard it is for me. He knows how to make it better.

So here I am, sitting on three of a stone fence with Nate, Nick, Chris, and Matt. I listen to them speak to each other, not contributing to the conversation. Seemingly lost in my own world as I just listen.

“What do you think, y/n?” Chris asks me. My head lifts up from looking at my feet.

“I-“ I stammer. They were talking about who would sleep in what tents during three camping trip.

“There’s no way I’m letting y/n sleep alone, I’m sorry.” Nate says while he waves his hands around in a ‘no’ sort of way.

“Then what do you suggest?” Matt asks him. “The tents are only big enough for two people each. Someone’s sleeping alone.”

“Not me, I can’t do that.” Chris says with a laugh.

“I’m not sleeping alone in a tent in the middle of nowhere!” Nick says. “No way.”

“Well, I’m not sleeping alone.” Matt says.

Nate shakes his head. “Not y/n.”

“Who’s gonna share a tent with her then?” Chris asks.

“I think you guys are forgetting mom…” I say. “Our mom will be there” I look at Nate.

“Mom already told me she’s going to be alone in her tent, she’s got the air mattress since the ground is hard on her back.” Nate says. “She told me to sort it out with you guys.”

“We can get a bigger tent and all of us can spend the weekend in the same tent.” Nick suggests.

Nate nods. “I’ll ask mom.”

“We can get the tent.” Chris says.

“Camping grounds only allow one tent one each area.” I chime in. “Mom will need to know there’s only going to be two tents instead of four.”

Nate nods. “I’ll just need to tell mom she doesn’t need to register for four camp areas.”

“Sounds good to me.” Matt says.

“I really did not want to sleep alone.” Nick laughs.

I go back to just listening to them speak for a short while. I stare at my shoes that hand over the edge of the stone fence.

Chris sits next to me, and on the other side of me is Nate, then Nick, then Matt. Chris scotches a little closer to me, leaning over me to take the joint from Nate that they had lit up just a moment ago.

Nate always passes over me during the smoke sessions. He keeps it away from me, not as an ‘Y/n isn’t going to smoke’ thing, but more of a protective brother thing. I have asthma, and I’m a minor. Nate’s just looking out for me.

Chris blows the smoke out from his lungs in the opposite direction as me. He hands the joint back to Nate. “Is anyone else hungry?” Chris asks as smoke flows out past his lips as he talks.

“Yeah.” Nate says as he passes the blunt to Nick.

Chris jumps off the fence. Matt follows, doing the same. Chris stands in front of me. “What help?” He asks me.

Before I can say anything Nate jumps down. He takes my hand and helps me down off the fence. Chris steps back and shoves his hands in his pockets.

Nick finishes the blunt and throws it on the ground, stomping on it. Chris puts an arm around my shoulders. “Did you have a preference where we eat?” He asks me.

I shake my head, looking down to hide the blush on my cheeks from anyone’s view. Chris lowers his arm from me as we walk to Matt’s car.

Chris opens the door for me and I get into the backseat. Nate and Nick pile in behind me. Chris gets into the passenger side and Matt in the drivers side.

“Where are we going?” Matt asks as he begins to drive.

“Anywheres good with me.” Nate says.

“I could go for a burger.” Chris says. “What do you think, y/n?”

I shrug. “Yeah.”

Matt pulls into a burger place drive through.

“Do you just want your usual?” Nate asks me. Like he even had to ask that, he knows I’ve never changed my order at any restaurant since my first visit to any of them.

“Yeah.” I say and nod.

~

Matt had found a place to park in the parking lot of the mall closest to the burger place. After eating, which we all got out of the crowded van to do, we sat on the cement ground talking once again.

The sun had already set and the air was getting colder. I didn’t bring a jacket, it’s summer and I didn’t think we’d be out for so long. But when Chris saw me shiver just once-

“Hey,” he whispers to me. I look at him and he’s holding out the flannel he was just wearing.

“Hm?” I look at him. He opens it up for me to put on. “I-I’m okay.” I shake my head. Chris laughs softly and drapes the flannel over my shoulders. “What about you, you’re just in a tank top now.” I whisper back to him.

“I guess I’ll just have to hold you close.” He shrugs and wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me against him.

I look away from him, my face down as I bite my lip where no one can see my blush. I fiddle with the hem of the flannel as I listen to their conversation, Chris joining back in as if he never had his attention on anything else.

Their conversation goes on, seemingly no one notices Chris’s flannel on me or his arm around me. I try to ignore it myself. But after what feels like forever, when I was finally getting comfortable, Nate notices.

“Are you cold?” Nate asks me. My head snaps up.

I stammer for a second before shaking my head.

“Well not anymore, I can see that.” Nate says as he gets up and sits by me, pulling me to him instead of Chris. Nate looks at Chris as he notices the flannel. “You’re not cold?” He asks Chris.

“Nah, I’m fine.” Chris says.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were cold?” Nate asks me.

“I- I wasn’t. Chris just-“

“Ah, I got a text from mom.” Matt says. “She wants us home. I’ll drop you guys off, come on.” He gets up.

I stand up, taking off Chris’s flannel to give back to him but he presses his hand to my back to stop me.

“You’re good, don’t take it off.” He whispers to me so Nate doesn’t hear.

I stop and get into the back of the van with Nate and Nick. Nate holds a clenched jaw the whole time on the way home. I stare at my hands, silent.

Matt parks in our driveway, and Nate and I get out. Before I could even think of it, Nate pulls the flannel off my shoulders and hands it to Chris.

Nate waves goodbye to his friends as Matt pulls out of the drive way. As soon as they’re out of sight he drops his hand and looks at me.

“Did you ask for his flannel?” He asks. I shake my head. “He just gave it to you?” He asks and I nod. Nate’s jaw clenches again and walks inside the house. I run behind him to keep up.

“Are you mad?” I ask.

“Not at you, don’t worry.” Nate says as he closes the door behind me. He turns around to look at me. “I told you, don’t fall for any of his tricks. Chris’s isn’t a dating guy, he’s a hook up guy. I know you, I know him.” Nate puts his hand on my shoulder. “He’s not looking at you as someone to be with, you know that don’t you?”

I nod.

“Good.” Nate takes his hand off my shoulder and starts to head up the stairs. “I think mom’s asleep.” He whispers.

I creep up the stairs silently and get to my bedroom, shutting the door as quietly as I can. I collapse on my bed, burying my face in my pillow.

I understand Nate is my older brother, and is just trying to keep me safe, whatever that applies to in his eyes. But sometimes I wish he understood. I don’t need an older brother watching my every move.

TAGS: @urfavpouge @savageking3 @tastesousweet @jko3005 @sturniolo0ntop @dwalk41202 @stvrnise @iloveneilperry @luvmxtt @blueeyedbesson @bernardenjoyer @sturniolosreads @mbbsgf @xxsadlovexx @whicked-hazlatwhore @sturnsgirl @keira324 @stuniolobbg @timmyscomputer @meg-sturniolo @sturnioloenthusiast @nickdevora @hearts4chris

[slocumjoe]

I've said before that the synth thing would work better with a McCarthyism allegory, but for Danse specifically, its so similar to autism that it has to be intentional??

Like. The thing that really solidified that Danse in particular is just straight up about autism is Piper's line in Blind Betrayal. Paraphrased, it goes something like, "I mean...yeah, of course he's a synth. It was kind of obvious, wasn't it? I mean, have you heard him talk?"

The autism accent is a concept that seems to be popping up more recently, but its a real thing, and in my own experience, everyone in my life has been able to clock that there was something different about me from my speech. People thought it was weird that I used "adult" words as a kid, and was very technical and exact when speaking. I was often mistaken as being from places like Brooklyn because I had a weird affectation to my voice.

And there's just. This fucking line. "Have you heard him talk?". Piper is also the person who clicked McDonough as a synth. It's worth noting that McDonough and Danse both use words like "rabble".

But seriously.

Danse goes through his life being respected for his work ethic, intelligence, and strong sense of duty and morals, but he never really bonds with anyone, he doesn't make friends. He's respected, not liked. People want to work with him, but the best they have to say about him is about his work. He makes one single friend in his entire life, and never tries again after that guy dies. And no one tries to befriend him. He's their brother. He's not their friend. And he takes his job too seriously as a commanding officer to attempt emotional connection. He apologizes for overstepping on the few occasions he does.

He talks like a thesaurus, and no one is sure if its to sound smarter, or if that's just genuinely how he thinks. It's strongly implied to be the latter. He's incredibly knowledgeable and passionate about various topics. He sounds like a kid on Christmas when you risk life and limb cracking open a vault that's supposed to have riches, but instead, just has some historical items. He throws his Brotherhood prejudice away the moment he finds a farm run by ghouls that uses pre-war structures in a creative way, and scolds you if you do the Brotherhood thing and insult them. He also seemingly forgets that he's in the Brotherhood when meeting a child ghoul, that kid's parents, a shy, insecure ghoul who clings to children's media (despite Danse finding children's entertainment stupid and a waste of time), and Daisy.

And then there's the synth thing.

Danse has always been Danse, but one little word gets attached to him and his life turns upside down. His work ethic is no longer a work ethic, it's viewed as a perversion. His intelligence and manner of speech are no longer of his own merit and education he had to have given himself, they become inevitable, things he had no say in. His existence is both erased and explained by one word, and anything else is irrelevant or in question. People who once respected him want nothing to do with him, because this one word puts him in a context they find unnatural, corrupted, inhuman. There's even something there with the Institute. Autism is (incorrectly) associated with vaccines, the government, science gone wrong. It's a man-made horror.

And then you have the people he gets lumped in with, after being thrown out for this one word. They take schadenfreude in it. This is comeuppance, this is deserved. This one word, something they take pride in or have sympathy for and want to protect, suddenly becomes weaponized. It's a source of pride for others, but for this one person, we're going to use it as punishment. You weren't with us from the start, so now you really are on your own. It's not that there isn't a right way to be this one word, it's just that there's a wrong way, and even if you change accordingly, you will never belong with the rest of us.

Its. Autism is about exclusion, from everyone and everything. Always being an outsider, often too polite or nervous or jaded to even bother looking in. And at every point in Danse's life he didn't belong. He was a rogue synth, so he didn't belong in the Institute. He naturally thrives as a soldier, so he didn't belong as a junk seller in Rivet City. He was a synth and considerably more kind and compassionate than the rest of the BOS, so he didn't belong there. And because he was a BOS soldier and is still working out some bad traits after his exile, he isn't welcomed by the people who he was thrown to. Everywhere he goes, there's a big neon sign over his head that changes to whatever word will ward off everyone around him and he's so used to it, the thing that makes him angriest about being a synth is that he doesn't even have parents. He doesn't even have that connection to the world, of being born into it. There is nothing he can connect himself to beyond the Institute (which he hates) and the Brotherhood (which, if he continues to connect himself to, will drive him to suicide out of sense of duty, and he already agreed to not do that)

Its just. His entire story is one of absolute isolation and the final dickpunch of "You've always hated yourself, right? Good news, here's a reason to kill yourself that's professional and won't illicit pity from your peers, so no one will judge you for doing it or grieve you."

[jangofettjamz]

Bullies

Tara Carpenter x Autistic!Male!Reader

Summary: Your crush, Tara Carpenter, saves you from your bully.

Words: 1630

Y/N POV

Another day, another lecture. Our film studies class is filled with aspiring film directors, snotty film students who think they're better than everyone else because of their "elevated taste in movies" and then there's film nerds like me and a few others I know.

There's Mindy and Chad Meeks-Martin, nephews of their late uncle, Randy Meeks. We became friends not long after they came here. They recently came to New York from Woodsboro after an incident involving a couple who tried to create a movie that would revive the long dead horror franchise: Stab. Nuts I know.

Among Chad and Mindy was someone I found to be astoundingly beautiful, as if created by the gods themselves, Tara Carpenter. I've had a crush on this girl since I first laid my eyes on her. She's truly beautiful in every way, though I don't think she'd ever go for a guy like me.

Everytime I've had the chance to speak to her she's always been incredibly welcoming and really nice, she even got ice cream with me one time.

She never talks about what happened back in Woodsboro, but I never pry for answers which she appreciated alot, I can't imagine your best friend trying to kill you over a stupid movie.

I haven't told her that I have autism, and I don't know if I can. Everyone that I have ever known has been turned away from me after I tell them about my condition, I doubt she would be any different, even if she is very nice to me.

My bullies knew about it though, I don't know how but they definitely knew and they constantly mock me for it calling me "freak" or "spaz" just to name a few.

The lecture went on for what seemed like hours; my eyelids slowly closing to pull me into the comforting darkness of sleep. Unfortunately, that was interrupted when I felt a spitball hit the back of my neck from one of the boys in the back with his group of friends laughing alongside him: my bullies.

I sighed, this unfortunately, was the the norm for me here, the laughing stock of the college, the weirdo who can't talk to anyone because he's to shy to make friends. I was an outcast to everyone, and those boys sure took advantage of that.

I was about to try and move, but not after I noticed Tara staring down the boy who shot his spit at me, the fire in her eyes resembled that of Scorpion from Mortal Kombat, I was half expecting her to throw a kunai at the boy and shout "GET OVER HERE!!!" but that's just my imagination running wild, as usual.

The boy immediately sat down and shut up after that, not gonna lie I would too, I don't think I've ever seen her so upset.

The bell rang indicating that class was finished, I immediately scurried out of there to try and avoid those boys as quickly as possible, evasion was a specialty of mine after being bullied so much. I ignored everything the lecturer told us and swiftly made my way to the corridors.

I walked through the corridors holding my notes securely in my arms, the judging states by some of the students not going unnoticed by me. I decided that keep my head low would be the best course of action to avoid any potential trouble from one of the students; walking faster to get to get out of here as hastily as possible.

I found the door to the door outside, my fingers grazed the handle but then... "HEY FREAKSHOW!" I heard behind me, the sound that emanated from his shout echoed across the corridor, bouncing across their walls.

He walks towards me with aggression "Jackson..." I say quietly, not wanting to escalate the situation further, though that was inevitable.

He grabbed me by the collar, "You think you can just embarrass me infront of Tara like that?" I looked at him with confusion. I had enough of his shit

"Embarrass you? You embarrassed yourself when you decided to spitball me, I mean c'mon Jackson what is this, 1986? Besides i highly doubt she's into you anyways." I don't know where this confidence came from but it was immediately gone when I felt immense pain on the right side of my face from, what I can only assume, a punch.

I stumbled back and fell flat on my ass, another punch came soon after, and then another, and then another. Seven punches we're thrown my way, my vision was blurry and I could barely feel my face, I saw a faint figure wearing pink coming towards us.

Tara POV

"JACKSON" I shouted, he stopped immediately and looked at me. "What do you think you're doing beating him up like that, have you no sense of shame for what you're doing?" He looked at me confused, as though he thought I'd appreciate this.

"I'm just showing Y/N here why I'm better than him and proving why I'm the perfect man for you Tara." He winked at me, he actually winked at me, gross.

I slapped him in the face infornt of everyone then kicked him in the balls, a barrage of laughter erupted from the corridor leaving his friends speechless and him curled up on the floor in pain holding his balls. I knelt down to him and whispered in his ear.

"If you ever come near Y/N again, you're dead. Do you understand me?" No answer came, only pained whimpers. "I SAID DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME!" I shout. "Yes yes, please don't hurt me I'm sorry!" He cried, what a pathetic excuse for a human being, beating on someone for being 'weak' then behaving like this when someone stands up to him.

"Get the fuck out of here Jackson, and your friends" he ran away holding his balls, his friends following behind him; cowards, all of them. My attention turned to Y/N, who was pretty banged up from Jackson. He was crying and curled up in a ball, all eyes were on him but no one dared to make fun of him, not after what just happened to Jackson.

I kneel down to his level and console him, he thrashed my arms away thinking it was Jackson. "Shhhh it's okay Y/N, it's me Tara. It's okay now, everything's gonna be okay." I cooed softly in a calming tone. He opened his eyes and met my gentle brown ones.

I opened my arms for him "c'mere sweetheart" he threw himself into my arms and cried into my shoulder, poor baby. I've always had a crush on him and seeing him this upset broke my heart. "Let's get you out of here, yeah?" He nodded into my shoulder and I walked him out of the corridor; away from everyone's prying eyes.

Once we were outside I sat him down with me on a bench, still holding him close. "It's okay Y/N, it's just you and me now. Are you okay?" He shook his head, he was just pummeled in the face of course he's not okay, stupid question Tara.

"Why does he hate you so much, sweetie?" I ask, genuinely curious as to how someone could hate this magnificent boy. He opened his mouth to speak.

"Um... I have autism." He says, averting his eyes away from me as if I'd hate him for it.

"Is that it? That's why he bullies you?" I ask and he nods, what a piece of shit, to hate someone because they were born with a condition, and he thought I'd date him. He begins to cry again

"Please don't hate me, you're really nice to me and one of the only people who treat me with any kind of respect, I don't want to be bullied anymore!" He sobbed out, I held him tight against my chest which became wet with his tears but I couldn't care less about that.

He was shaking in my arms, those boys really tormented him. "Oh honey, I could never hate you for that. In fact, I've had the biggest crush on you since we met, you're so smart and sweet, you're so passionate about the things you like, you're so kind to everyone. Mindy's been bugging me to ask you out for the longest time."

He pulls back and looks at me utterly confused. "Really? You like me?" I reassure him "

I like you very much sweetie, and I'm honored that you told me about your autism, that's not an honor I take lightly." He smiled brightly, blush spreading across his cheeks. "There's that beautiful smile" I cooed.

"I've had a crush on you since we had ice cream together, you're very beautiful Tara." He said, now making me blush.

"Can I kiss your cheek sweetie?" I ask, not knowing whether he's comfortable or not. He nods and I plant a gentle kiss to both his cheeks, his smile could light up an entire city.

I wipe away the rest of his tears and hug him tightly again. "You're mine now Y/N, and I'm yours. You're safe now honey, no one will harm you ever again." I kiss his forehead and rock him gently in my arms.

"Thank you, Tara." He says quietly, he's been through hell and I'm glad I pulled him out of it.

"Don't thank me baby boy, you deserve to have peace. Just rest now, sweet boy. I've got you, everything's gonna be okay" I whisper, holding him closely, listening to the birds chirp as I rock him while sitting on the bench. After Woodsboro and what happened with Ritchies family a few weeks ago, I thought my life was gonna be bleak and miserable...

Turns out I was wrong.

[irishmammonagenda]

CATHOLIC MC WHO GETS SENT INTO HELL?! NOT CLICKBAIT!!!!! (part two)

introduction, part one, part two (you are here), part three

Warnings: None? Mentions of religion (obviously) and GN but AFAB MC,Mammon being an idiot, and me not being able to type irish accents out phonetically.

The sound of the council room door beckons the brothers to look toward it, Diavolo’s gaze stays upon the litte human in front of him. How interesting! This was a rare insight into human world culture, he couldn’t look away!

Barbatos stands at the doorway, explaining that Simeon was helping Solomon with a spell and he would be in the student council room the moment it was safe to walk away from the cauldron.

Diavolo nods, looking back to MC, who is currently praying. (surprise surprise) Well Simeon would be here soon!

.

.

.

Simeon arrives by the door with Solomon and Luke in tow, his calmed smile slightly strained as he asks what exactly the problem is.

"What the problem is?! This!" Mammon says, or rather, shouts. "This right 'ere is the problem!" He points towards MC and Simeon's gorgeous blue eyes widen, just a little.

Hearing a gasp from Luke, he immediately turns around, concern for the young angel quickly vanishes when he sees the stars in the young boy's eyes.

Simeon nods, so the young angel felt it too. The aura was pure..someone had been praying.

That someone must be the young human on their knees. Simeon chuckled, it was an adorable sight.

“MC was it?” he asks gently, making sure to shove on his halo before the human looked up, immediately, they ceased, their tense posture relaxing.

“Y-yeah.” MC nods, Simeon can see the relief on their face. What an adorable human, Diavolo seems to agree as he coos softly and tries to cover it up.

Simeon was doing just fine in calming the little thing down, before, like usual, the brothers had to be chaotic.

“So MC, are ya normal now”

Simeon swears to Michael he is going to glare somewhat meanly at Mammon.

Thats all it takes to send MC back into panic, except this time they’re more of a logical approach and…

…bless their bottle of riverrock water.

…Making it holy water.

…And then chucking it at Mammon….

…and missing…

(moreso Mammom dived to the ground Rocky Style so it hit Asmo)

..the champagne haired demon screeches like all nine cricles of hell just went up in flames AGAIN.

Its a bit of an overreaction seeing as Asmodeus is one of the most powerful demons in the Devildom so Holy Water is more like a dull bee sting.

Lucifer sighs. Simeon tenses. Solomon is fucking cackling.

All the while MC stares at their hands, “…I can make Holy Water….Im not a priest…” they look down at their very much female school uniform “or a biological male…”

The confusion, thankfully, is what allows Solomon to swoop in like the housefly he is and take the bottle of Holy Water from the clearly dazed human.

This is an opening that Diavolo exploits. “So MC, we truly mean you no harm…! I’m Lord Diavolo, Prince of the Devildom and Acting Ruler! You’re here as an exchange student for a year as we chose you!” He says cheerfully, careful eyes watching MCs reaction.

“What.The.Fuck.” MC says, more to theirself than anyone else.

“We sent you an email.” Barbatos adds in gracefully.

“Oh. Must be in my spam folder. Also who checks their email.” MC looks around the room calmly. “So who are these emos?”

The black haired man from before steps forward a devilish smirk on his devilishly handsome face, “I’m Lucifer, the eldest brother and the Avatar of Pride.”

“Gay.” MC then turns to the Irish One who’s suprisingly not paler than milk (the Irish don’t exist)

“I’m the Great Mammon! Avatar of Greed…don't be messin’ wi’ me human.”

MC nods shakily, making a clear note to ask later if he has an Autism diagnosis.

Speaking of an Autism diagnosis, the third born introduces himself quietly before hiding into his game again.

The introductions go so on and so forth until MC stares at Lucifer, their head tilted like a dog not understanding something.

"…Pride, Greed, Envy, Wrath, Lust, and Gluttony…Theres supposed to be 7 deadly sins. Where's Sloth?"

shit.

[samijami]

Oh I just had a funny thought

When I was younger, I absolutely refused to speak. I was so nonverbal and wouldn't talk to anyone. My parents hadn't gotten me to speak at all until I was 4. They had to bring me to a doctor and was told I'd never speak and needed to be taken to a speech therapist to have any sort of chance.

They refused to, and I only ended up speaking after I started school. I didn't even know my name, I couldn't pronounce my name when I saw it on my nametag on my desk. I ended up, after speaking, asking what it was. When I got told it was my name, I couldn't fucking believe it.

I jitt had to ask the teacher when she was handing out the nametags what it was. She said it was my name, I asked what the fuck my name was, she looked at me like I was half crazy, she had to pronounce my name to me and I forgot it yet again afterwards.

I looked at my nametag everyday and had to set a mental reminder that that was my name.

I couldn't remember anyone else's name either. Up until 4th grade I had to have a piece of paper with new kid's names on it to remember them.

I couldn't pronounce most words correctly until I was 8, and still couldn't pronounce words like 'unicorn', etc, right until I was 10. I then had a problem with pronouncing 'banana' until I was 13. I still do sometime have problems pronouncing banana-

They have refused me speech therapy my whole life since they said that there's nothing wrong with me. I had to almost fail kindergarten for them to even ask if there was something wrong with me. I had to: break a special ed teacher's nose, throw a desk, lose all of my friends within a half a year period, refuse to speak to (almost) anyone, eat pencil graphite, try to get a friend of mine to get infront of me in the line cuz I thought it was nice and then when she didn't take the gesture I thought she was being mean for not taking the gesture so I got upset and tried to force her to get infront of me cuz I didn't understand why she wasn't taking my nice gesture so then she hated me and called me a freak the day after, get locked in a room in the office all day multiple times throughout the year because I was having constant meltdowns and they wanted to 'calm me down', not understand any fucking social gestures and have a way too picky of an appetite for them to even consider I had something wrong.

And then I had to almost fail kindergarten for them to ask a doctor and put me on ADHD medicine.

And recently, they wonder why it's gotten worse, why I can't focus, why I don't understand anything about math, why I can't focus on reading intelligent things like science and maths, why I can't 'do what the other kids do'.

Why I can't remember full days on end.

And my therapist told me she was going to get my diagnosis for autism and DPDR, and she knew I had it. Guess what? I don't have a therapist anymore.

I love when I'm right on the edge of getting proper treatment and medicines, I can't have it.

My ADHD medicine even. I was happy with my Concerta for 10 years of my life, but they changed it to the generic Methylphenidate because the insurance company refused to pay for my Concerta suddenly. Now it doesn't work as good, and they blame me for that.

They blame me for all of my problems. They say I hold onto childish things I should've left behind.

How can I leave a part of me behind?

[fatphobiabusters]

Sorry to ask a divisive and kinda subjective question but I’m wondering

Is Jack Black reclaimed fat humor?

I don't know about anyone else's opinion except my own. But for me, I don't see Jack Black as fat positive. I learned recently of one of his old works, and it was a movie that entirely depended on fatphobia for the premise and story. Then there's his other movies which have the guise of fat positivity while still promoting fatphobic stereotypes and humor that can just be summed up as "Haha, he's fat!" He also has supported Autism Speaks, though that factor should be taken with a grain of salt. From my quick double-check, it could be possible that he either didn't know how bad Autism Speaks is or doesn't support the organization anymore since he apparently has donated to other autism organizations as well, and he also seems to not have supported the organization in the past few years. But I can't say for sure what his thoughts were when he donated.

Similar to Shrek, Kung Fu Panda pretends to be fat positive by forcing a message akin to "Fat people aren't THAT bad. Some of them are funny! And maybe deserving of a little humanity. Sort of," while still heavily relying on fatphobic jokes, tropes, and stereotypes that take out the miniscule bite the original message even had. These types of movies, as well as Jack Black himself, are basically the "body positivity" of fat liberation—watered down, for profit, barely advocates for any change at all, and still purposefully at fat people's expense.

So that's why I personally am not a fan of his, but I'm not going to chew someone out for liking him because he's a much less important issue to me than stuff like the wage gap for fat people, all of the medical fatphobia, etc.

-Mod Worthy

[babygorewhore]

I’d never leave you

Tate Langdon x fem reader

Hurt comfort. WC. Just over 1k

Hi! So this is a Tate version of hurt comfort with a reader having both autism and BPD. My moots encouraged me to write this because of the inclusivity I bring with these disorders. It’s short. And I tried to keep Tate in character. But I hope you enjoy! This will be my latest AHS fic because I have a few other fandoms so it’ll be a while before my next!

Warnings! Autistic episode and BPD episode depicted. Anger! Destroying room. Hair pulling. Tate slightly misunderstands reader. Not proofread

Tate was frantic as he searched the murder house for you. He hadn’t talked to you in a few days. Close to a whole week. He tried so hard to respect that you asked him for space. He really did. But he heard whispers from the other ghosts that you were in a dark place.

You weren’t dead like him and he wanted to keep it that way. He would never harm you on purpose or let anyone hurt you. He had sulked around the shadows, remembering how it felt to hold you. Your arms were his favorite place to me.

Tate heard a loud bang. Then a crash. In your bedroom. His old room. Bursting through the door, Tate’s brown eyes widened as he took in the state of the space.

You were crouched down, your notebooks, jewelry and clothes thrown around you. The dresser was on the floor and drawers were pulled out and haphazardly scattered around you.

You had spoken about these episodes before. Tate understood you were autistic along with a personality disorder. You kept it away from him, insisting he couldn’t handle your mommy and daddy issues that caused some of it. He had begged for you to open up but that seemed to only make you pull away more.

Your face was deeply flushed, your hair ripped out of its previously style and Tate cringed when he saw a few chunks in your clenched fist that was against your head.

Tate rushed over to you, reaching out but you jerked back and started gaining your balance as you stood. “What are you doing in here? I told you to leave me alone!” He immediately felt hurt but he pushed it aside and scanned you. Your eyes were glazed over. He couldn’t tell if it was from crying or lack of sleep.

“I heard something and I couldn’t just not see what happened-“

“Oh god, Tate. Come on. I can’t even-this is-fuck everything is too- I can feel the texture of that shirt! I can’t stand it!” You shakily pointed at a fleece t shirt on the floor. “And my phone won’t stop buzzing.”

Tate nodded, trying to understand through your volume. “I can put it away-“

“No! I don’t want any of it. I want it away from me! I’m so sick of this. And I can’t find my headphones.” Your voice cracked.

Tate knew those were a safety net, at first he thought you wanted to ignore everyone but it was just protective measure. “I’ll find them-“

“I don’t want help!” This time you yelled louder. “I just want a different mind. I hate myself. I don’t want to be me, Tate. Every day, something else adds up. And I can’t handle it anymore.” As you continued speaking, your voice became lower.

Tate took a step closer. He just wanted to hug you and make this all better. He wanted to touch your too big sweatshirt and kiss your sweet face that he loved so much. “Baby, pushing me away isn’t right. Why don’t you want me to help you?”

He half expected you to scream but instead you sank onto the wooden floor. Opening your palms where torn out hair slowly slipped off your flesh.

“I don’t like how this feels.” You shuddered, trying to fling the rest off.

He took the opportunity to quickly settle in front of you, his knees touching yours as he experimented if you’d pull away. You didn’t. Tate carefully took your hand and took the end of his shirt and started wiping away any remaining strands. He hated that you did that but he refrained from saying that right now. He didn’t want you to tell him to leave again.

“What-What happened? Why are you so upset?”

You were visibly shaking now, teeth chattering slightly. “I don’t have a good reason. My friend said something-and it was just off. I felt like she really didn’t like me. Maybe she was talking about me to other people. And then-I couldn’t find my headphones. Everything went shit.”

The last thing he wanted to do was move away from you but Tate forced himself to lean down and inspect underneath the bed. There they were. He crawled forward, shifting past you and pulling them out. “Found them, baby.” Your shoulders slumped heavily as you took them. Tears prickled in your eyes.

“I’m sorry, Tate. I’m so sorry for yelling at you. I know you just wanna help-I didnt wanna hurt you-“ He shook his head fiercely and gently leaned forward.

He gauged your reaction but you met his presence as he rested his forehead against yours. “It’s okay. I’m always gonna be here. And I want to help you. Even if you’re angry or-hurting. I’d never leave you. I love you…” he trailed off.

“Maybe you shouldn’t. Because I don’t want this to happen again but it will. And I don’t want you to be stuck with another problem.” Tate then cupped your cheek, his own eyes growing glassy as you held eye contact a little longer.

“No. You’re not a problem. You are everything. You hear that? I don’t care if I have to hold you while you cry or scream. If I have to listen to music from playing outside of your headphones all day, then I will. I would do anything for you, baby. And you want to know why?”

You shrugged a little.

“Because I love you, baby. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. And-I don’t want you to push me away anymore. You can tell me anything.”

He didn’t want you to argue as you opened your mouth.

“I love you too.” You whispered and his chest expanded with warmth as you brought him into a hug. He nuzzled his face into your neck, pressing a few gentle kisses against your skin.

Begrudgingly moving away, Tate scanned the bedroom. “Hey. I’m gonna make this livable again. Why don’t you put these on and try to relax a little? Can you do that for me?”

You nodded and he could tell you were growing tired from the intensity of your emotions. He helped you stand and guided you to the bed. Tate stroked your cheek with his knuckle as you settled against the pillow.

He would try his best to understand more and relate to you. But for you? He would do anything.

Tagging

@scene-and-dandylover @xxhellfirebunnyxx @reidsbtch @imyourdaninow @icannot3 @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @slvt4jamesmarch @taintandviolent @elaine-in-the-membrane @enchanting-evan

If I forgot anyone forgive because I’m baby.

[radio-cryptid]

I AM SO NORMAL ABOUT FRANZISKA VON KARMA (LIE)

Alright now onto what I was wanting to say.

I have had so many thoughts about Franziska and @musashi made a youtube video that put so many of my thoughts into words.

Ace Attorney recently gripped me by the throat and dragged me into a new hyperfixation.

I love Franziska and Miles' relationship. They truly are the siblings ever. this is one of those moments where I want to speak so much but can't. Autism decided i'd be too powerful so it had to shut me down for the time being.

I wanted to make some art for Musashi because they truly did her justice and I need them to know I shake them by their shoulders. I made this doodle in a haze.

The way you described your experience as an autistic woman and the way you link it to Franziska really spoke to me. I tend to be too formal and to direct and I inform people of this, almost as a warning to anyone getting to know me. I suppose it's just, so nice to see that being said by someone else. Maybe I'm not evil, maybe I'm just autistic.

[crowflesh]

To anyone else that saw the movie "Nope"

Please please PLEASE tell me I wasn't the only one who noticed OJ's neurodivergence. It was something I clocked almost immediately when I first saw the movie. The way he speaks in a monotone voice and isn't really emotive, how he struggles to interact with others and is socially awkward, how he reacts "inappropriately" in certain situations, how Angel literally tells him to "read the room" when they're in the fast food place, after their encounter with Jean Jacket. Even down to how he doesn't respond or react verbally and just grunts or hums and, honestly, the list could go on. These are all things that I do as an autistic person and it was so nice to finally see these traits not painted in a negative or stigmatized light. I just loved being able to see someone who acts and behaves like me be the hero of the story and it isn't made to be a whole big thing, as is what typically happens in media that involves autism. I loved the movie, I loved OJ, and it was so refreshing to see and I neeeeeed someone else that recognized OJ's possible autism coding PLEEASE

[drchucktingle]

Something I’ve been curious about if it wouldn’t break the bit: are you one buckaroo or several sharing a name and persona?

greetings bud thank you for asking FIRST OF ALL want to say to you or anyone reading this post that i am not upset over this question and i am not upset with you. you have kindness in your trot and i know you are just asking to prove love in your own way. buds reading this please do not harass this person in fact maybe give them a follow or a like, they are trying their best.

OKAY NOW THAT IS OUT OF THE WAY i will talk on my feelings of this with simple statement:

this is not a bit.

i understand it can be difficult to accept this for some, especially in world where absurdity and cynical humor is so popular, but i am very sincere. even though i make jokerman jokes sometimes, even in my writing, tinglers are not supposed to be funny as a concept. if you laugh at them that is TOTALLY OKAY i understand this way when confronted with something out of the box but that is not the point of them at all. the point is that LOVE IS REAL for everyone (there are other points but that is a broad one)

now on to why i trot my trot in this way. first off is to protect my privacy this is simple enough. when i talk on son jon or sweet barbara or any other way i am adding a layer of secrets by changing names or relations or towns but that is just a fancy outfit for the real truth. i am NOT creating a character, i am protecting myself.

second and more important is that when i TALK IN MY UNIQUE WAY i am expressing myself without masking, which is something old chuck does every single day out there in the world as someone on the autism spectrum. i am VERY GOOD AT MASKING you would probably not know chuck was autistic when talking to me unless you were a close bud. but unfortunately this masking way creates very real tension in my body. i have trotted with CHRONIC PAIN for most of my life heading to emergency rooms where kind and handsome t-rex doctors could not figure out what the heck was goin on. basically LIVED in the dang emergency room. eventually chuck learned i carried my body TOO TIGHT from masking all the time, but what i realized is that allowing myself a space to type freely without way of punctuation or other restrictions and LETTING MY HEART SING to just be myself without masking made this tension release. pain started going away. GRAND IRONY of course is that when im trotting as chuck i wear a pink mask to take off my OTHER MASK of a neurotypical bud.

that is why i protect my way of speaking freely as well. if someone says 'well you need to talk like this right now' i stand tall and say NO BUD THIS IS MY SPACE AND I WILL EXPRESS MYSELF IN THIS WAY AND YOU AN TROT ON IF YOU WANT. this is firm boundary for me and my health.

anyway buckaroo to sum that up again: yes i am one person and this is not a bit

if you want to know more about my way on the autism spectrum i wrote a tingler about how it feels to have others say you are 'playing a character' and not actually neurodivergent. i think tumblr buds might enjoy so i will add it down here LOVE IS REAL thank you for your question

NOT POUNDED BY THE PHYSICAL MANIFESTATION OF SOMEONE ELSE'S DOUBT IN MY PLACE ON THE AUTISM SPECTRUM BECAUSE DENYING SOMEONE'S PERSONAL JOURNEY AND IDENTITY LIKE THAT IS INCREDIBLY RUDE SO NO THANKS

[silawastaken]

it’s me again. new Taylor swift album. ssk thoughts?

first, i woke up at 4:30 in the morning to listen to this album the moment it came out. And I WAS going through it thinking about skk when I wasn't bawling my eyes out over certain lyrics that were personal attacks

I do want to take a moment to talk about the actual album itself on its own for a moment just because omfg i love it, and something I really liked with tpd in comparison to more of her recent albums, is the music seems very simple, with a focus on lyricism, which had always been a theme with her music, that the lyrics are more important, but it just. It's so well done here.

Also, there's a very nice mix between the synth pop of midnights, and the more acoustic vibes from folklore and evermore in this album, when i listened to the first song i thought the whole album was going to have that same vibe, and was very pleasantly surprised at the first piano track.

Also a lot of the lyrics are very reminiscent of her earlier albums, thinking speak now and fearless. it feels most obvious with i can do it with a broken heart and who's afraid of little old me- which by the way, based off the title I thought i would HATE whos afraid of little old me, but i actually really like it??? like it's a very 'cringe' phrase, it's made fun of mercilessly, but it works surprisingly well.

The songs all seem to have an earlier album they could tie back to, with the same vibes or styles of lyrics, and it's so nice to listen to while thinking of what it could possibly tie back to.

This definitely isn't my favourite album, i was expecting something different i think, but it's still really good, and there are quite a few really good songs on it. guilty as sin? and clara bow are my personal favourites i think :3

But I would like to direct your attention to the second song on the album, 'The Tortured Poets Department'

I LOVE a title drop in a song, it drives me insane for real, and i actually screamed. But more importantly, in reference to this, it is VERY skk to me, like I listened to it and instantly was thinking of how i was going to reference this song in an au some day.

But imo, this song is 100% Chuuya pov skk and well the autism is working overtime so I will be doing an analysis I'm so sorry this is what I'm using my time for but AUGH brainrot im sorry i have interests

'You left your typewriter at my apartment' - starting off by mentioning that this is what i thought of when considering references, because im a sucker for writer skk, and i thought a really cool thing would be Dazai leaving a typewriter behind when he left for some reason, and then Chuuya picking it up and eventually using it, especially with one of the following lines being 'who uses a typewriter anyway?', something he used to judge Dazai for then becoming something he does himself is just *polite clapping* i love it and I will be giving dazai a typewriter at somepoint

'But you're in self sabotage mode, throwing spikes down on the road' - Dazai is very mentally ill, and likely does self sabotage, ESPECIALLY if it were to be his relationship with Chuuya, his bandages are an allegory for the fact that he doesn't let anyone see below the surface of his personality, and that does go for Chuuya as well. He doesn't allow for that kind of vulnerability and in all likelihood, if he were to end up in a situation where he did need to be vulnerable, he'd self sabotage and try and fuck it up just to get out of that situation. However, there's also the next lines;

'But I've seen this episode and still love the show, who else decodes you?' - which is to say that regardless of the 'episode' dazai would be having in that moment, chuuya would still love him, and can decode him to understand what he is doing, which is a VERY skk thing, being able to decode what the other is thinking when they do things, and their intentions. He would be able to work out what was going on, and be able to work things out.

'And who's gonna hold you like me? And who's going to know you, if not me?' - skk have that insane bond that they don't have with anyone else, they know each other better than anyone else, and they both probably know it, regardless of whether they admit it or not, and (don't attack me im a multishipper) they're genuinely unmatched as a duo, there's not another team with either of them that are stronger than the two of them together. Nobody is going to know them the way that they know each other, it's just impossible given how close they had to be, and the environment they were in. The entire Dazai makes Chuuya feel human and Chuuya makes Dazai feel alive thing. As the post chorus says, nobody will do it the same.

'I scratch your head, you fall asleep, like a tattooed golden retriever' - rare moments of vulnerability my beloved, but my specific picking of this line is Dazai's constant insistence that Chuuya is his dog, while frequently behaving in a way(esp ada dazai) that would be more suited to a golden retriever. There's also something I want to say here about the comparison to a dog, by a person he loves. But it is canon that Dazai at the very least does not like dogs, and in fanon he is frequently portrayed as afraid of them.

Here, this could be translated as it being a metaphor, Dazai being vulnerable like a dog, something he is scared of/hates. He isn't just scared of dogs, he's scared of vulnerability in any form, and comparing him to a dog when he is like that would be to emphasise that point, that he hates them both. This also opens the implication that Chuuya is aware of both of these fears.

But he is like a dog, and being vulnerable, and in that moment, he would be exactly what he hates most, his is everything he hates. And Chuuya loves him anyway, despite knowing how much he hates himself. And he makes himself vulnerable around Chuuya, regardless of how much he's scared of it.

'Sometimes i wonder if you're gonna screw this up with me' - this lyric makes me think of concerns about Dazai leaving again after they reunite at 22, perhaps Chuuya's own concerns of getting too comfortable only for one of their many issues to come and blow everything up in their faces, like how in a earlier lyric the relationship in the song is referred to as a cyclone, the fear is that it gets out of control, even if they know what they're doing, or trying to do.

'But you had told Lucy you'd kys if i ever leave, and i said the same to jack so i felt seen' - oh boy toxic co-dependency time. skk are so co-dependent it's literally insane, their lives often genuinely rest in each others hands, not even mentioning whatever the fuck went on in mersault. From Chuuya relying on Dazai to nullify corruption, to Chuuya being the reason Dazai decided to try living a little in 15, there have been multiple instances in which if it wasn't for the other they would be dead. They trust each other with their lives, and could very easily end up in a state where if one were to leave, the other would make an attempt on their own life (moreso dazai than chuuya, but it really could go either way).

'Everyone we know understands why it's meant to be, cause we're crazy, so tell me, who else is gonna know me?' - Anything else aside, skk are fucking insane. they deserve each other just so they don't bring danger to literally anyone else they interact with. They're insane, especially around/about each other, and again, they're the only ones who fully understand each other. Dazai is the only one left from during stormbringer as well, which is think is important to mention. Dazai was there during sb and the dragons head conflict, both times that Chuuya's friends were killed, if anyone was going to understand how he might have felt after that experience, or what happened, it would be Dazai. They understand each other in ways others would never manage.

'At dinner, you take my ring off my middle finger, and put it on the one people put wedding rings on, and that's the closest I've come to my heart exploding' - skk are literally married guys. dating six years, married four years, divorced eight times and broken up 52, but also never stopped dating and are best friends who plan how to kill the other for fun. They're married, but they're also not, but also their souls are tied together in ways not made for the human brain to comprehend. This feels very much like domestic skk fic interactions and i'm 100% here for it.

Anyway, this song is very skk coded and I love it so much, tell me why i spent an hour on this. I don't think this was what you were looking for but... this is what you got. If you want me to go through any other songs like this then i'll do it. I love skk and taylor swift so much i can't even think like im afaifiegbi im pretty sure taylor has a tumblr account so there is like a 0.0000001% she would see this and that has me... panicking but anyway :D i have lots of thoughts all the time and thank you for indulging me with this ask i NEEDED to get this out of my system before i exploded!!!

[witchessrose]

Hey, if you have multiplicity could you please spare the time? I'm a questioning system and desperately need input.

I know the internet can't diagnose me, but I'm hoping people who may know more could help steer me in the right direction, or at least affirm to me whether or not I should start the process of reaching out to doctors for a potential diagnosis. I just dont know who to talk to about this. And fear talking about it to people I know because I'm so afraid that I'm,,, faking it??

What I'm looking into right now is Partial DID or maybe even OSDD? Keep in mind I was diagnosed with autism about a month ago before I finally started really noticing/growing awareness of somethings ive been in denial of.

-For example the talking to "myself" and getting immediate responses

-Talking back and forth with "myself", sometimes accidentally speaking outloud without realizing it

-I previously believed myself to by psychic because often when I ask myself questions in my head "someone" will answer me, often with information I wasn't aware of myself. I am now questioning if I've ever actually been a medium...

- I thought this was my echolalia, and maybe it is (if ur an autistic system maybe u could tell me if u relate for reference?) But often my mind will repeat different names to me. To the point where it can be very frustrating and distracting. The two names they tell me the most, is Penelope and Jasmine.

- I have different versions of myself that help with different situations. There's also a mean one, which is one of the few versions of.. Me? In my head that I don't associate myself with. I don't see that one as me, the way I can see the other ones as me.

- I was recently diagnosed with a "cognitive dysfunction of unknown origins" which is basically my neurologists way of saying she has no idea why I have forms of amnesia. While I am always... Somewhat... Present, I rarely remember an entire week, let alone parts of the day. Down to conversations I'm in the middle of having. I also can't remember most of my childhood.

- I sometimes feel like im in a video game, and the world around me will start to feel very fake, and small, like I'm everywhere. And I'll have to very manually control my body. The other day this happened when I had to perform a function on a very mentally draining day. Go to the store. To me, I want to say, someone else helped bring me to the store, because I wasn't really there. But at the same time, I was. Its this that conflicts me, but I found out that sometimes a person can be stuck in front? And wonder if that's what I'm experiencing.

-When I get in those states I often describe it as "being in autopilot" I will complete entire tasks without being aware of any of the process or fully remembering it. I'll be there, I'll know if was done, but my body did it for me. Again, because its not complete amnesia, I wonder if this could actually just be me in autopilot.

There's a lot more but I feel like I'm dragging it, I don't want it to be too long because I'm really hoping for some actual responses.

I'm afraid that I've tricked myself. Or being inconsiderate to ddiagnosed systems with these questions in anyway? Its not like I'm determined to have it, I just want to know what's wrong(for lack of a better term) w me. I haven't told anyone about this, I just want to know if I'm imagining this all in my head, or if other systems can relate to any of this?

[clotpolesonly]

i figured out why Declan is my go-to blorbo, and it's because he's one of those characters where i can find common emotional/experiential ground between him and practically every other significant character and that just makes him fascinating to me and so so versatile

Declan and Gansey: repression, repression, repression!! so much anxiety rolled up into a tiny little ball and stubbornly ignored because feelings are unseemly and have no place here. they will feel things when they're dead, thank you very much. responsible beyond their years, on their own/taking care of themselves long before they should have been. tending to other people or the practicalities of the moment take precedence over themselves, at all times. unfortunately, Ronan is very important to them and they will go out of their way to protect him. also the insomnia and the autism vibes.

Declan and Adam: ruthlessly practical people. hard working and ambitious but for a reason, not for its own sake (Adam to get out of the trailer park, Declan to camouflage his other activities). they would rather die than admit to weakness or vulnerability in front of another human being. Do Not Let The Emotions In Or You Will Never Stop. feeling alienated and fundamentally from their peers, and distrustful of/disillusioned by the idea of help from authority figures -- if you have a problem, solve it yourself. both very very accustomed to lying, constantly and about everything, in order to disguise their home situation and deflect attention from anything that might cause people to ask questions. complicated relationships with their mothers, at least partially rooted in negligence and not stepping in wrt the situation with their fathers. and of course, there's a difference in scale and severity, but feeling unsafe due to the aforementioned fathers.

Declan and Blue: the particular brand of resentment that comes with being the only unspecial member of a special family. being the sensible one and stubbornly proud of how well they manage to get by without any of the ✨ super specialness ✨ that everybody else has. torn between wishing and wondering what it would be like to be special too and being desperately grateful that they're not. wishing that somebody would understand how fucking lonely it is knowing that you and your loved ones will never truly understand each other. being too proud to ever admit as much out loud.

Declan and Noah: this one's more nebulous, but the idea of being not fully real, not fully a person, and definitely the idea of not being seen. of being invisible and looked through. Noah's is because he's a literal ghost, obviously, and it's through no fault of his, but Declan has gone out of his way to cultivate that experience, to make himself as overlookable and forgettable as possible, for safety and security. but it doesn't feel good. the erosion of the sense of self as time goes on, worn down by the life they're living. and a shared understanding of being the victim of extreme violence (Noah's murder and Declan's attack by the Grey Man, at least).

Declan and Henry: the children of criminals. burdened with the knowledge of a world -- two worlds tbh, the criminal and the magical -- that they can't speak about to anyone else. socially isolated and starved for emotional connection. uncomfortably comfortable with the violence that has permeated their lives and always acting under the assumption that it can and will find them again.

Declan and the Gray Man: business is as business does and it's not personal. ✨ depression ✨ and going through the motions because this is just their life and they don't have the emotional or mental capacity right now to think of how their life might be changed. making themselves as dull as possible and then not being able to find their way out of the hole they've dug themselves, at least not until someone comes along to remind them of what it feels like to feel things.

Declan and Jordan: repression of self and lack of identity. not being allowed the space to be their own person, always forced to cram themselves into a tiny box for the sake of others. bursting at the seams with dreams that they're not allowed to chase and feelings they're not allowed to express. feeling truly seen for the first time when they meet each other.

Declan and Hennessy: being preceded by the reputation of a parent they resent. living in Niall and JH's shadows, always compared to them, even when they suspect that they may actually be better than their parents at what they do. the struggle not to let that bitterness swallow them whole before they can grow into their own reputations and make names for themselves.

Declan and Farooq-Lane: young professions who have worked very hard, thank you very much, to be as competent as they are. logical thinkers with a brewing storm of emotion that they try not to let interfere with their logical thinking because they know it makes them impulsive and they don't like that loss of control. loss of control is the enemy. they are the only grown-ups in the room and they would rather die than acknowledge that they are actually scared kids in way over their heads. both with complicated feelings about dreamers and deep-seated issues related to their dreamer brothers. also they have very similar taste in women.

honestly, the only people that Declan doesn't have common ground with is his brothers, and that's what makes his relationships with them so interesting and so fraught. there's something to be explored between Declan and Ronan wrt their suicidal ideation (though they have very different flavors of it) and perhaps with them both feeling insecure compared to each other, but so much of their conflict is about just how different their experiences and perceptions and personalities are.

and Declan being unable to relate to Matthew on a personal, empathetic level is probably part of why he finds it so hard to really think of Matthew as a fully independent PERSON in his own right. though, if Declan's experiences with the bag of Niall's memories had gone a little differently, there could have been a connection over the experience of being denied full personhood by a well-meaning but ultimately overbearing and neglectful guardian. 🤔

anyway, these have been my musings on Declan and why he continues to fascinate me. he has the range, darling.

[mystic-headcanons]

Autism Jumin headcanons PLEASE. I saw somewhere (i don't remember this in game) that MC said "i think you have something mentally wrong with you" and Jumin goes "i know"

that paired with autism. i cannot get out of my head.

do with this what you will

ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE

a lot of this is largely based on what i know about autism and my own personal experience with autism

- jumin is the number one cat expert. like this man knows everything there is to know about felines. he is THE cat expert

- HAS THE BLINKING STIM. i don’t think he would have many, if any at all, physical stims because jumin very much knows that it is Not Acceptable in the high society that he grew up in. someone also mentioned on my post that buttoning his sleeve would be a stim and i 100% agree.

- does not understand his own feelings very well. this man is VERY emotionally stunted, though how much of it is due to trauma and how much of it is because of his autism is unclear. which is why when he understands that what he feels is love towards mc, he like immediately proposes.

- he owns so. many. books. like legit has his own personal library. any special interest he has he buys books on, so there’s MANY books on cats, wines, supernatural entities, etc.

- does not like crushed velvet. i have no reasoning for this other than crushed velvet makes me want to rip off every one of my fingers and so jumin is the same way.

- he is an empathetic person, but often does not understand when he says something wrong. this is also very canon.

- when he has his autistic meltdowns, it consists of him just going completely blank. i’m talking no speaking, lifeless eyes, and does NOT let anyone into his personal space. will just sit in his bed with elizabeth the third and stare at the wall or the ceiling until he comes back to himself

- PETTING THE CAT IS HIS STIM TOO

- jumin has very few safe foods, so there is always extra stocked up in the kitchen in case of sensory overload

- if he finds someone who will listen to him talk, jumin could easily talk for hours about any one of his special interests

- very. very. literal. does not understand the common types of humor very well, and doesn’t understand sarcasm either.

- if he’s feeling a Big Unknown Emotion, jumin will literally just shut down. not in the same way as a meltdown, but in a ‘i need to process this fully and cannot be doing anything else’ type of way.

- has that autistic rizz 😎

- has been blocked by every member of the rfa, minus v, at least once for talking on and on when no one was interested.

- somewhere, probably on one of seven’s many phones, there exists a video of jumin han in cat ears and meowing at elizabeth the third because seven once told him that that’s how you connect fully with cats and jumin just. believed him.

- there was a fake website made and everything.

- if there are many overlapping sounds for an extended period of time, jumin starts to experience sensory overload.

- is fine with loud, sudden noises, though.

- it took jumin a while to become fully comfortable with the knowledge that he is autistic. it’s not something that he really talked about with his father, and jumin had to unlearn many misconceptions.

- cannot read between the lines. like, at all.

- once jumin starts opening himself up to his feelings more, he gets one (1) sharp pang of anxiety and it debilitates him.

- wine is another Very Special Interest of jumin’s. he could probably tell you the exact date and time that it was created.

- makes too much eye contact. like the man looks like he’s trying to stare into the depths of your soul.

i love jumin han so mf much <3 this is all. i have for now. i hope you liked it!!