#(everyone else gets the evil vocal stims)

[heckyeahobjectbattlecity]

which obc character do you think would most likely have a meowing vocal stim? this isn’t like important to me, just a funny little question..

ds card through thats mainly because i associate her with cats

[spencers-renaissance]

I found my way home

Summary: After Spencer tells Hotch about his recent autism diagnosis, he expects that to be the end of it. Somehow, though, it keeps coming up, and Hotch keeps proving himself to be the best father figure he could have asked for. 

Tags: autistic spencer, protective hotch, hurt/comfort, fluff, paternal hotch, team as family

TW: mentions of ableism, one small instance of ableism & homophobia 

Pairing: Gen 

Word Count: 4.1k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

This was borne from my conversations with @criminalmindsvibez about the lack of autistic spencer fics and her amazing headcanons. While I'm not autistic, Emily is, and helped me to portray Spencer's autism as accurately as possible. That said, please feel free to correct me on anything I got wrong :)

Spencer had made an effort to get into work even earlier than usual today. He’d ridden the metro through the city, dipping his hand into his messenger bag every few minutes to compulsively check that the slim letter he’d received in the post the other day is still in the front pocket where he’d safely placed it that morning. He brushes his fingers over the paper once more as he enters the near-empty bullpen, the letter cool from the winter air.

It’s still so surreal to him that this is where he works. After years of dreaming of working for the FBI he’s finally here, and even though it’s been his place of work for almost two months now, he’s still not used to it. The warm offices are a nice reprieve from the wintry December wind, and he can feel himself relaxing as he heads to his desk. Leaving his coat and messenger bag on his chair, he pulls the letter out of the front pocket and runs his index finger along the edge. He finds himself biting his bottom lip as he tries to work up the courage to go and see Hotch. 

Sucking in a deep breath, he marches determinedly up to Hotch’s office, entering as soon as his knocks are answered. 

“Reid,” Hotch says pleasantly as he takes a seat opposite his desk, realising belatedly that he probably should have waited until he was invited. “You’re in early. What can I do for you?”

Nervously, Spencer hands him the letter he’d couriered across the city so carefully. He’d taken care to open it neatly with his letter opener but the return address on the back has been stamped at a crooked angle, and it bothers him every time he notices it. He can’t stop looking at it now as he taps his fingers anxiously against his leg in the pattern of the Fibonacci sequence, a safe and familiar reassurance played out by his nervous fingers. He watches apprehensively as Hotch pulls the letter out of the envelope, unfolding it and skimming his eyes down the page, taking in the news Spencer’s been so anxious to share with him.

Diagnosis: Asperger’s Syndrome

God, it had been a long process. He’d had to seek out a doctor in DC who diagnosed adults, paid for all the consultations and diagnostics himself — his insurance certainly wouldn’t cover it, not that he’d feel comfortable using his cushy FBI insurance for something so personal anyway — and the whole process had taken far longer than he’d expected. Finally, though, the envelope had arrived in the mail, and he officially had a diagnosis. 

Of course, he’d had his suspicions for years, especially after one of his professors during his second PhD had casually asked whether he’d ever been tested, planting a seed in his brain that led to many late nights in the library, reading all the literature available to him. It’s why he’d found it strange that it had felt so validating to finally receive that letter in the post. But it had.

The label made sense, and now that he had a diagnosis from a medical professional he felt comfortable to share it with others; he’d been far too paranoid about being questioned, not being believed or lectured about the evils of self-diagnosis no matter how he was confident in himself. He didn’t tend to be an insecure or self-conscious person, but after years of bullying and trauma surrounding what he now knew for sure to be his autistic traits, he couldn’t help but feel almost protective of his affirming label. 

Now though, it’s an irrefutable statement. Dr Spencer Reid has autism, and the first person he wants to tell is Hotch.

“I had no idea you were getting tested, Reid,” Hotch says, a hint of surprise bleeding into his voice. “Is there any specific reason you wanted to share this with me?”

“Well… I felt like someone on the team should know,” Spencer starts carefully, afraid to give too much of himself away, “and I thought that someone in a leadership position was the best option. Gideon has never been very… supportive of my autistic traits or behaviour, so I thought that you— that you would be the best option.” He feels awkward, fidgeting in his chair as he watches Hotch’s serious face and kind eyes absorb the information. 

“That trust in me means a lot, Reid,” he says, a rare smile making its way onto his face. In that moment, Spencer knows he made the right decision. “How can I make things easier for you? Is there anything you need me to be doing differently?”

“Uh—” He hadn’t really been anticipating that question and it catches him off guard: he’d predicted a quick nod of acknowledgement, a request to photocopy the letter so it can be put on file followed by a swift dismissal, but the letter is now sitting on his side of the desk: clearly, Hotch intends on keeping this between them. This is far from what he expected.

“Why don’t you start by telling me about autism and how it might affect your work?” Hotch corrects himself, recognising quickly Spencer’s need for specifics. “I’ll admit I don’t know much beyond some probably rather unhelpful stereotypes.”

Spencer nods. He can answer that question. “As everyone knows I often go off on tangents,” he begins, “and that’s because my special interests — or hyperfixations — often coincide with our work, so I know a lot about the topics we’re investigating. If I do that, just redirect me to the case and I’ll be fine. It’s also really hard for me to have to present myself in a certain way all the time. Vocal stims and gestures are the most satisfying to me but I often have to mask them, which I’ve never been very good at anyway, and it’s fairly exhausting. That’s why I often excuse myself; I go to the bathroom or a secluded hallway and stim on my own. My doctor also told me I tend to overcompensate in social situations and over-perform emotion. Those are the basics, I guess, but it’s a very complex disorder and since it makes up me as a human being, I can’t exactly explain all of it in one conversation.”

“No, that’s fine, Reid, you’ve given me a good picture of what to expect, thank you.” Hotch smiles at him, fondness in the crinkles around his eyes and the softness invading his usually stern expression. “First of all, you never have to feel like you need to excuse yourself to stim. Do you think it would be helpful if we told the rest of the team so they know what to expect? I’m assuming vocal stims are saying certain words or making sounds…?”

Spencer nods. 

“Okay, so if you needed to do that we could just continue the conversation while you get it out of your system. Gestures certainly wouldn’t be a problem. How do you feel about that?”

He hadn’t really considered telling the rest of the team but it seemed sort of intimidating, like he’d be opening a vulnerable side of himself to people he didn’t even know that well. On the other hand, they’d all been so understanding of his quirks and odd behaviour so far without even knowing the reason behind it. He’d never once been made to feel the way he used to at school, forced to either pretend to be someone else completely or be isolated and ostracised. 

He settles for, “I’ll think about it.” 

“That’s fine. There’s no pressure,” Hotch assures him. “I’m very happy you told me, Reid. I hope you know you can come and talk to me about anything, whether it’s about this or something completely different.”

Spencer leaves his office with the letter back in his hands, no notes or copies having been made, feeling almost elated. Never in a million years would he have expected that to go so well. 

⭐️

He doesn’t really expect it to come up again. He’d told Hotch so that he could understand him a bit better, and also because Hotch had quickly assumed a protective, almost paternal role in his life and he wanted to share the piece of news with him whether he was leading his department or not. That was supposed to be it, though, he didn't think anything would materially change, especially since he decided not to tell the team about the diagnosis just yet.

But almost immediately after he’d told Hotch his diagnosis, his rambles began to be gently redirected back to the case, sometimes without him even noticing. He wasn’t rudely cut off by anyone anymore, Hotch always steering him back on course before anyone else can jump in and hurt Spencer’s feelings. It’s so… kind that it almost feels foreign, and he finds himself gravitating towards the older man more and more, sitting next to him on every jet journey and staying glued to his side during cases. 

His newfound protectiveness over Spencer is only demonstrated more clearly a few months after their conversation in Hotch’s office when they’re on their way to New Mexico for a case. The second he spots that the murder victims had all been found with different Fitzgerald quotes scrawled on sheets of paper found in their own personal notebooks, ripped out and left for investigating officers to find, he launches into an info-dump to rival info-dumps. 

He can’t help that literature is a special interest of his, made all the more intense by the fond childhood memories of reading to his mother in her bed. Fitzgerald had been her favourite author of the Modern Era, and he’d spent hours analysing significant passages in his novels as a child, so he starts explaining the literary merit of each of the quotes left at the crime scenes. 

Apparently, he doesn’t hear the first two times Hotch tries to direct him back on topic, but he hears it when Gideon shouts, “Spencer! Long and unnecessary tangents are not conducive to actually solving these cases. Get back on topic. Now.” He’s loud enough to briefly knock him back several decades to memories of his father screaming at his mother’s schizophrenic babbling, when she’d become convinced that the villains of her favourite novels were trying to break into the house.

Spencer stops mid-sentence and stares at Gideon, who is staring right back. Everyone’s watching the two awkwardly, but the short moment of silence is quickly broken by Hotch. “There is absolutely no need to be that rude, Jason,” he says disapprovingly, while he lays a hand on Spencer’s arm in a light, absent-minded sort of touch. “Reid may have been off-topic but he deserves respect just like everyone else on this team. Nobody needs to be shouted at like that.” He directs his attention back to Spencer. “Why don’t you tell us how those Fitzgerald quotes could help us solve the case, Reid?” 

He gives him an encouraging look, and when he looks around the jet, everyone else is, too. Carefully, he starts speaking again, a little afraid of being cut off again, but after a few sentences of relevant explanation he regains his momentum. It’s more than a little vindicating when it’s his ‘unnecessary tangent’ that ends up being the key to cracking the case. 

⭐️

Soon after Hotch’s split from Haley, he approaches Spencer one evening when they’re the only two left at the office with a dinner invitation. Within the hour, they walk into a nice, low-key Italian place in the city and take a seat in the far corner of the restaurant. 

“Is everything okay?” Spencer asks a little uncertainly, confused as to why his boss is suddenly taking him for dinner. 

“I had this idea almost as soon as you told me about your autism,” Hotch explains, knowing by now that preambles and niceties only frustrate Spencer instead of setting him at ease. “I wanted to take you out for dinner every week to try and give you a space to ramble about all your special interests and not feel like you have to mask around everyone. But when I was with Haley, all my personal time was obviously spent with her and Jack. Now, I have the time to dedicate to you and all the incredible knowledge you’re hoarding in that brain of yours.”

“Really?” Spencer asks excitedly. The idea of uninhibited space to talk about the recent knowledge he’s acquired and not have to feel insecure or worry about performing social skills he doesn’t see the point of is everything he’s ever wished for, and something so wonderful being provided by Hotch only makes it better. 

“Really.”

Spencer wastes no time. He dives right in. “I was just watching a documentary the other day about volcanoes and their ability to trigger lightning storms with their voltage,” he begins. “Basically, magma rises toward the volcano’s surface, its water rapidly turns to vapor, which shatters the molten rock into tiny particles and creates charged particles. When the ash plume erupts into the atmosphere, the densely packed particles collide, driven by momentum. Friction then affects their electrons, becoming electrically charged. Positively and negatively charged electrons separate in the ash plume which creates a charge imbalance that builds an electric charge strong enough to trigger a lightning storm.” 

“That’s incredible.”

“I know,” Spencer says excitedly. “If the ash plume rises high enough in the atmosphere ice forms, and when ice, hail, and supercooled liquid droplets collide, the rates of lightning explode, it’s crazy.”

They’re briefly interrupted by a waitress taking their orders, but as soon as she leaves, Hotch gets him to jump back in. “What about that lecture you attended last week… the literature of 18th Century England or something?”

“19th Century English Lit, yeah!” He’s so eager to finally share this with somebody who will genuinely listen to him, and he can’t help it when his arms start to flap excitedly. Remembering where he is, he doesn’t try to mask it, pin his arms to his sides and simply deal with and suppress the innate urge to stim, he lets his body do what it wants to. Instead of eliciting a strange, sideways look, Hotch just smiles fondly.  

“The lecturer had this fascinating theory on Dickens. I’ve always seen him as a pretty straight forward author of picaresque fiction, obviously combined with facets of melodrama. And it’s common knowledge that he was inspired by the novel of sensibility, of course. But I’d never thought about the stylistic and lexical choices in his works beyond standard analysis, and this lecturer went on a deep dive into his use of collocation and it opened my eyes…”

He spends the whole evening stimming to his heart’s content while detailing every current interest of his to Hotch, who simply listened intently while eating his meal slowly, dragging out the meal for as long as Spencer needed. “Let me give you a lift home,” Hotch insists after footing the bill, leading him out into the warm evening air.

“Oh, I don’t mind taking the metro,” he replies truthfully. 

“I know. But it would make me feel better to drop you home safely. It’s late and seeing you into your apartment building would give me peace of mind.”

“Sure,” Spencer agrees happily, he’s still buzzing from such a nice evening and the least he can do for Hotch is let him rest easy tonight, so he climbs into the passenger side of his car. A few minutes into the car ride home, he realises he should probably actually verbalise just how much he enjoyed dinner. “Thank you, Hotch. I don’t think anybody’s ever done something so nice for me before.”

“Don’t mention it, Spencer,” Hotch replies, smiling even though he doesn’t take his eyes off the road. Spencer very much likes it when Hotch uses his first name, and he’d been doing it all evening. He doesn’t really understand why it feels so nice, just that it makes him feel… special, maybe.

“Don’t mention it, Spencer,” he repeats, before freezing as he realises what he’s said. He’s got so used to not masking all evening, he’s not in the right rhythm and mindset to suppress the urge to repeat Hotch’s words. He’s been so nice the whole evening, the last thing Spencer wants is for Hotch to think he’s mocking him. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Hotch reassures him, tapping his arm lightly as he smiles encouragingly. 

“Don’t mention it, Spencer,” he says again, repeating it a few times in relief before the itch is satisfied. He really does have the best boss/friend in the whole world. There’s no doubt about that. 

⭐️

Rossi’s initial reaction to Spencer had admittedly been a bit rocky, and having Hotch undeniably on his side was the only thing that made those first few months bearable. He never let them go off on their own; never put Spencer in a position where he’d have to be alone with him. Gradually, though, Rossi adjusted to his quirks and he became almost as protective of Spencer as Hotch.

That doesn’t bode well for the local sheriff when they’re on a case in North Carolina. He’s been prickly since they arrived, being as stubborn and uncooperative as possible, slowing down their progress on actually solving the case, and Spencer’s noticed him being a little extra rude to him in particular. It doesn’t massively bother him — it’s not exactly like someone’s aversion to him is a novel concept — but he can feel some sort of tension coming from the others. It happens a lot more now that they know about his autism and are more aware of themselves and others.

He tries to ignore it the best he can; he puts his head down and focuses on the geographical profile, going wherever he’s sent. Besides, the sooner they solve this case the sooner they can get out of North Carolina and back to DC. On their third day on the case, he’s working quietly in their designated corner of the police department alongside Hotch and Rossi while the others are out investigating in various different places. It’s a nice environment, and even though both men are his superiors, he feels more relaxed in their company than in anybody else’s.

It’s a relatively pleasant morning — considering the whole trying to catch a brutal serial killer thing — until they need to ask the sheriff a question. He saunters over, a tense and angry expression on his face, and Spencer can’t help but feel a little off, the confusing tension in the air that Spencer can’t quite identify making him anxious in his inability to properly decipher it. “Gentlemen,” he says, already frustrated. Spencer suspects it’s a pride thing; not many police departments like being shown up enough to have the FBI called in.

Eager to know the answer to their question, Spencer’s the one to jump in and ask. “Sheriff, we were just wondering whether the town gets much traffic from the local university or—”

He’s cut off by the sneering, towering man. “I’m not taking any questions from your kind,” he says aggressively. 

“I’m sorry?” Spencer squeaks as Rossi and Hotch both prepare to say something in response.

The sheriff cuts them off before they can get their likely diplomatic and calming words out. “Homo retards aren’t welcome around here.”

“Hey!” Rossi shouts as he leaps out of the chair, grabbing him by the collar as he’s helped by the element of surprise. “You don’t fucking talk to Spencer like that, you hear me? Weak, cowardly men like you—”

“Dave,” Hotch says placatingly, putting a hand on his shoulder and diffusing the situation. “Listen, Sheriff, we are only here to help you. But if you can’t respect my agents then we’re going to have a problem. Either you’re civil to Dr Reid, or I’m reporting you to the NC Sheriff’s Association. You hear me?”

The sheriff’s pride is clearly wounded, but he at least nods before giving them all a scornful look and walking away. 

“We didn’t even get to ask the question,” Spencer says anxiously, suddenly feeling out of his depth, like he can’t quite get enough air. 

“Dave, try and get an answer,” Hotch directs, taking charge of the situation. “Spencer, come with me.” He takes him into a secluded hallway for a little privacy, sitting him down on the cool linoleum before sinking down next to him. “You’re okay.”

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” Spencer whispers over and over to himself as he rocks backwards and forwards, trying desperately to self-soothe.

“Do you want me to touch you?” Hotch asks. He’s been in enough of these situations with Spencer to know he’s usually in two very different headspaces: he either longingly craves the grounding touch of a hug or a hand on his back, or he needs complete space. He’s also learned that asking outright is the only way to get an direct answer. 

“Yes,” Spencer replies, before repeating it over and over again as he’s wrapped up in Hotch’s arms, head pressed against his chest, his hand pressing gently against the back of Spencer’s head. He starts to calm down as he manages to breathe to the heat of Hotch’s calm, steady heartbeat, the comforting touch of someone he trusts with his life also helping to bring him back down to earth. A good ten minutes after the altercation with the sheriff, he’s feeling much better and brings his head out of it’s safe cocoon between Hotch’s chest and hand. 

“Come on,” Hotch says kindly. “Let’s get back to the case, yeah? You can just sit and work quietly until you’re ready to hold a proper conversation again. How does that sound?”

Spencer nods tiredly, knowing that work will perk him back up again, and being surrounded by his team will make him feel safe, asshole sheriff or not.

⭐️

Over the years Hotch helps him through any hurdles that come his way, learning the exact nuances of Spencer’s characteristics and requirements, making sure to accommodate him in every way possible.

He brings an extra, super-soft sweater in his go-bag in case Spencer ever forgets his and needs something gentle on his skin but tight enough to make him feel secure. He buys him stimming toys, dropping them on Spencer’s desk before he even arrives at work and lets him use his office whenever the lights and noise of the bullpen get too much, drawing the blinds and giving him the space he needs. Rossi doesn’t even question it anymore when Hotch shows up with a stack of paperwork and moves into his office for the morning. 

It wasn’t until Hotch made a concerted effort to make his life easier that Spencer realised how hard it had been fighting through life on his own. So when he realises Hotch’s birthday is coming up, he decides he wants to show his gratitude. It’s never been easy for him to express emotions, especially since he’s never really found it rude when people don’t thank him, but he knows that for most neurotypical people, appreciation is important. 

So he talks it over with Derek and on Hotch’s birthday, he comes into work to see Spencer waiting in his office with balloons, a cake, a card, and a present. He’d spent hours trying to find the right words to explain how he feels, to find the right words to show Hotch just how much everything he’s done for him means, but eventually he’d settled on something simple:

Caroline B Cooney wrote: “I found my family. I found the right thing to do. I found my way home.” 

I found all of these things when I joined the BAU, but more specifically when I walked into your office, hands shaking, clasping a letter I’d been waiting for all my life. Thank you. 

Hotch reads it with tears in his eyes before taking in the cake, a classic birthday cake Spencer had bought at the store, the words “Happy Birthday Dad” written in blue icing. He didn’t really understand why the cake had stood out to him, or why he associated the word ‘dad’ with someone who wasn’t related to him at all, but he’d trusted his gut and with Derek’s cheerleading, he’d bought it. 

“Oh, Spencer,” Hotch says tearfully. “Can I hug you?”

Feeling only mildly uncomfortable at the visible display of emotion Spencer doesn’t know what to do with, he nods and steps into Hotch’s comforting embrace. “This means the world to me,” Hotch murmurs quietly as he stands, hugging Spencer for as long as the younger man can stand it. 

Spencer’s still not completely sure why he’s managed to make him so emotional, but at least he can trust that it’s a good thing, that Hotch is happy and pleased and reassured. And if he can make him feel even a smidgen as happy as Hotch has made Spencer over the years, well. He’ll consider his long and boring trip into the city to buy the cake, present and card worth it.

Quick Note: Spencer is diagnosed with Asperger’s because that part of the fic is set in 2005. These days he would be diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD)

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @strippersenseii

[dnawield--a]

002. BEN IS AUTISTIC

Hi, in this house we support and accept the notion that Ben is autistic. No, I won’t elaborate.

EXCEPT I WILL.

Going off the original series, Ben almost comes off as a neurotypical kid: just chilling, ready to leave for summer vacation with his grandpa across the country, seeing he failed a test, but who cares? It’s summer time! Tries to help this other kid who’s getting picked up, only to fair less than successful (hanging from his underwear from a tree branch with the other kid who’s pissed Ben made things worse), and then is picked up from his grandfather. Excitedly, he runs into the Rv lovingly named “The Rustbucket”, but his chipper attitude quickly changes upon seeing his cousin, Gwen, sitting there.

Immediately, he’s getting angry over her being there. This was not part of the routine that he was ready for; it was only supposed to be him and his grandpa. He says, “What is SHE doing here?!” She’s ruining everything! He’s angry! He’s mad! He’s yelling! He goes right up in her face, and it’s only his cousin’s insistence that this was her mother’s idea, and not hers. He’s still mad, but it stays aimed at her as her mom isn’t here. The tantrum takes a near twenty minutes for him to calm.

Later on, watching the Universe take him as its new host, the Omnitrix ( from the containment it was preciously protected by ) hatches and latches onto its new home on the young boy’s wrist. The mixture of fear of a foreign object JUMPING onto his wrist and not letting go as well as the immediate discomfort at this new sensation on his wrist. It feels like something is suctioning itself into his skin. Bad! Bad! Bad texture! But he can’t take it off. It’s stuck. He cries for a moment, biting at his wrist, hoping to get it off. That’s what we don’t see. What we do see his the desperate attempts with a stick to try and force it off, but no. It has decided to stay put. As much as he wants it off, Ben realizes it’s stuck.

Things, however take a turn for the better when he hears the beep when the dial pops up. He turns the dial, and he instantly looks excited. That wondrous click clack! The noise makes the awful sensation on his wrist lighten, and he just keeps fiddling. Stim away the bad feelings of what’s on your wrist. Maybe it’ll make a comforting noise when you push down?

The rest is history. Dangerous stim toy, and yeah, more than that, but hey! Stim!

Fast forward another year, the end of summer. He’s spent a lot of time using this one new alien. It feels good. He loves this alien. Feedback is great! He loves Feedback. He loves this new routine he’s settled into. It feels good to have one. Yeah, everyone tells him he shouldn’t rely on the one alien, but...he was doing fine right now. He always won! Ben was a super hero after all! Heroes always come on top! However, that routine comes to an end- one he wouldn’t ever be prepared for. No easing out of it like his mother and father always so carefully helped with. As much as he loved his grandfather, Max was rather old fashioned. Ben’s tantrums were his fault and he just “had to mature” and get over it.

He’s being treated as if this is an addiction. This is what he likes! This is what makes him happy! He spent a whole nine months having to keep going alien on such a down low! Give him this! He gets angry again! Another tantrum is coming, and he runs out, away from people who don’t want to understand and talk to him like his parents! Only they’ve been good about how he thinks! How he works! Everyone else keeps trying to force him to change without giving him time or attention or trying to find ways to help him ease out of a routine! But no! He was immature! He’s acting up for attention! He can hear his cousin try to talk to him, but he’s angry. It’s her fault! Her mom thinks he’s just acting up! He’s heard his moms phone calls with his aunt about him. His mom always defends him! She tells her what’s up, but Aunt Natalie doesn’t ever get it! She just thinks this is something he has to repress! Gwen clearly has to think so as well!

Malware- evil Malware- comes and that’s when he decides to make a point. Turn into Feedback! Stop the bad guy with his favorite alien! That’ll show them all!

Except it doesn’t.

He loses him. No more Feedback. No more happy feelings. Literally, they were ripped from him, like in school and like the times with his aunt. It doesn’t matter the one who took what he loved from him had blown up------------ it didn’t bring back what Ben lost. He just hides in the bathroom the trip back home.

These are the instances from the past in show that I go back to for this headcanon. I have my own that don’t have “canon” basis, but canon is a suggestion at this point in life. When Ben turned three, he still hadn’t spoken. His parents decided to have him evaluated, and in the mean time, all three of them learned sign language together so they could communicate. Sandra and Carl learned just how patient they could be. Finding out that their kid was a boy, that he didn’t like these kinds of foods because they feel ‘icky’ and ‘bad’ so they learned to work with it. They learned he has certain ways he wants to do things. When it’s okay, they let him do it his way. When it’s not, they all communicate and find ways to work with him so they can come to an agreement. By age five and a few months after, he begins to verbally communicate more. It’s amazing! Both parents are amazed at how much he likes to talk, although, they do come and find that while they try to always explain to him calmly he can’t say certain things like that to people during these situations, he never quite could get it. But they knew, and they never reprimanded him. That’s why he was always a good son. They all communicated. His parents learned how to listen, and Ben learned how to tell them what he wanted- be it verbally or through sign when he would go back to being non-vocal.

Honestly, you sorta get pull this idea from the fact that Ben’s parents in AF are having a conversation about how they’ve done a pretty good job raising their son. They give him enough freedom, and he does well in school, he does well in his sports, since his second summer with his grandpa, he never deals with issues in school for disciplinary things. He’s grown up to be a really GOOD kid, and they’re AWARE that they’ve done good as parents! They literally ONLY became super strict there for a bit and limited his freedom SO MUCH was because they found out he was fighting aliens and literally putting his LIFE on the line. It wasn’t outlandish of them to do that. They genuinely are afraid for their son. They don’t even CARE he turns into horrifying aliens; they care that he’s been lying to them despite the relationship they’ve built over the course of so many years. And at the end of the episode, they’re still worried, but TRUST him that he’ll be safe and CONTINUE to let him have his freedom because THIS is so important to both him and the Universe.

There’s a bit of repression of his autistic habits such as stimming ( via fiddling with the Omnitrix), his hyperfixations/special interests (granted yeah the Universe does take precedence), and he becomes colder because he gets reprimanded when he has a tantrum because no one (aside from Gwen) takes the time to realize how they have to talk to him about things. And even she doesn’t ALWAYS get it, but all of team 10 has their issues with emotions and actually talking things out. Gwen tries her best, and HAS learned sign from Ben, so sometimes she signs with him when she can tell he can’t get his point across verbally.

OV he’s more free to his autistic self that his parents taught him to LOVE about himself, that it’s not a part of himself he SHOULD be repressing simply because his role model is telling him it’s bad (in Max’s own subtle ways of being ableist). And while Ben doesn’t think poorly of his grandfather for being annoyed with the fact Ben is not ashamed of being autistic, he is aware his grandpa doesn’t know everything and this is one thing his parents will ALWAYS have over him.

Everyone still gets on his case about fiddling with the watch, but like, he’s still gonna do it. He does find other things around him to stim with so he doesn’t mess with the Omnitrix all that much, but still. He happy flaps his hands, and doesn’t care if his grandpa (or anyone really) makes a comment ‘cause who cares what you think? He’s feeling good and feeling happy and THIS is how he’s gonna express it.

[podcastmecaptain]

the stim bin

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

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

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

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

attention: all contents incredibly neurodivergent

everyone shares those fidget cubes

collectively they have like five

in so many colors

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

jack builds it

they call it the stimboard deluxe

anthony has nintendo

sally brings him all her childhood games and watches him hyperfocus

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

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

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

anthony brings notes everywhere

scribble scribble

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

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

he has some problems with gullibility

the pressure stimming is too real

PRESSURE! STIM! HUGS!

Big Coats or Lab Coats

fiddling with his glasses

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

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

he either gets really anxious or angry about Bad things

breakdowns, breaking things, and weirdly quick recoveries

he could hug people for hours

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

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

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

other options:

SHREDS EVERYTHING AND EATS IT WITH A STRAW

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

uses her hands for THINGS SHE SHOULD NOT

burnt things

she love the Cronch

puts things together that should not even touch

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

sally’s special interests:

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

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

hands on everything

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

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

sally wears her lab coat everywhere

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

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

tags on clothing are EVIL

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

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

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

she has serious sensory processing issues

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

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

lots more under the readmore!

sally is the queen of weighted blankets

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

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

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

and sally turns up with not one but TWO heavy blankets

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

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

she wraps esther in them and then squeezes her, too

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

esther, muffled: “i am a burrito now”

sally: “a precious tiny gay burrito”

or, estherrito

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

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

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

sally talks to herself

she has a little wee tape recorder named Diane because Diane

its covered in stickers

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

and she’ll replay them to process things

sometimes her friends will leave happy messages on there for her

or helen will sing her a little ditty

helen is the world’s best audio stim

her voice is just really soothing

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

she likes singing for herself too

humming and tapping her instrument is a soothing habit

helen is very audio/vocal

she likes to play the same song over and over again

bridget has some issues with self image

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

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

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

she doesn’t like things that are uneven or unbalanced

objects OR concepts that are unfair or unequal

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

esther’s adhd and her big stims are

high heel clicks on the floor when she walks

fancy & feminine clothes that make her feel secure

the ritual of putting on her makeup

pencils (tapping or twirling)

HER RINGS, she has three and she spins spins spins

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

and run her fingers through the hair on the other side

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

even people she loves

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

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

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

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

the sharks name is Fredrico

his binder is actually kinda helpful because it’s pressure

he screws and unscrews things a lot

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

june is dyslexic

she has cute tinted glasses to help her with studying

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

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

she has some emotional processing issues

it’s easier to feel angry than anything else

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

quentin is the only one who actually can manage himself

Quentin is a Hydrated Boy

(he has great skin)

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

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

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

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

penny is the Flappiest Autistic

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

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

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

and he calls her his butterfly

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

she calls him her moth

they’re precious fluttery darlings

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

it’s Good