#Author has autism

[m1d-45]

wandering eyes

summary: wherein he's not sure what's going on between him and you, but he knows that he definitely shouldn't be thinking like this...

word count: ~2.5k

-> warnings: minor sumeru AQ spoilers ?? author very clumsily uses no name for wanderer . reader is a scholar of unnamed darshan and author handles that clumsily too .

-> gn reader (you/yours) ++ unspecified traveller (they/them)

taglist: @samarill || @sarienic || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @ryuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept || @wanderersqt || @rozz-eokkk

< masterlist >

there are many scholars in the akedemiya. thousands of scholars across six darshans, collected under the akedemiya’s flag, differentiated only by the emblems on their uniforms. tens of thousands of people walked through the front doors, searched the house of daena, roamed the halls and chatted and laughed with their peers.

you were not one of them. you rarely were. it seemed, as time went by, you were more fond of lingering in his office rather than the established gathering places for students and staff alike.

how you found it, he didn’t know. it wasn’t marked with his name, nor that stupid nickname given to him by the rest of the scholars, nor any name at all. it wasn’t even a proper office, more so an abandoned classroom that he’d claimed as his own. and yet, one day you’d opened the door and sat in the chair across from his makeshift desk, and he’d never really had the mind to lock it after you left.

the wanderer did not often say what he was thinking. it was far easier to allow others to run their mouths in attempt to fill the silence, usually giving over more information than they meant to. buer used to chide him for it, but he thinks she’s gotten the message by now; casual conversations were reserved for a very narrow selection of people. her, of course, when he sat in the sanctuary and rattled off the list of tasks that comprised his day. he didn’t think there was much important about his day to her, but that had of course changed. she told him about his, and maybe he found something from a tavern to bring up to her, letting her try the fruits of her labor. he never ate much. he didn’t need it, and sumeru food was far more… complex than inazuman cuisine. he’s never been able to move past that simplicity—at nobody’s fault but his own, of course.

the second spot on his inch-long list was reserved for the traveller and, somewhat irritatingly, their companion. they made good company, though he hadn’t seen them in a while now… and as such, his list had effectively shortened to two.

if asked, he would not give a name to the tentative bond between you two. both because anyone that didn’t already know certainly deserved no stake in it, but also because it felt wrong to do that without knowing what you thought, and he’d not be asking that question any time soon. you were first a colleague, approaching him despite the gap in your darshans, and then… he didn’t know. he wasn’t familiar enough with the intricacies of human relationships to name it.

you weren’t an acquaintance. he knew more about you than he cared to admit, which his mind already reminded him of often enough. you were not a friend, nor anything else close to it. you were not a companion, that was too close a word for his liking. you were not a confidante, as you surely were not privy to the dim paths his thoughts often wound. more than an associate, less than a comrade. even if, say, the walls of the akedemiya had turned into the plains of battle, he could not call you a warrior in arms, for not only would he be far from the bloodshed, but you would surely be just as distant.

you were a strange character. maybe that was why he had allowed you so close—and it was only on his terms that this had happened, he told himself, because he would not be so foolish as to allow you near him of your own volition. when you spoke, he could almost hear your will threaded into your words, a silent determination to do… something. he hadn’t figured out what yet. you had no research projects you were uncertain on, no assignments or tasks you did not know how to complete, and yet you spoke with all the tenacity of a detective on a cold case.

you had walked into his life and he was too curious to let you leave. just curiosity, that’s all. there was no other reason to entertain someone so… intruiging.

that wasn’t the right adjective. he could spin a few hundred, if he wanted, but he had a feeling that even if he had recited them all, it would still fall flat. why was it that he had no problem summarizing others with the snap of his fingers, but his tongue always lingered over your name?

you didn’t seem to care that he didn’t talk. you spoke more than enough to make up for him, going into gratingly deep detail about how your day had gone and what research you were struggling with connecting, to the point that he’d began to keep books on your subject permanently in his “office” just to push them over to you whenever you started complaining. it didn’t matter that the time before he did so began to stretch longer and longer. he just knew you better, and as such needed to decide which text would be better. nevermind that he could give you both. why did he both welcome and shrink from the sound of his door clicking closed?

this problem, among others, drifted lazily through his mind as he skimmed the various proposals on his desk. for being gifted a name such as “hat guy” by the people of sumeru, a shockingly large amount of them wanted his time or approval on some project or another. he always denied them, and usually wouldn’t give them any mind… but he needed something to keep his eyes busy.

today was a day like any other. he had retired from his lectures with a weight on his shoulders like he was the one forced to memorize half a century in an hour, hanging his hat and sighing in his chair. he had sorted the mail that made it onto his desk—despite being across campus from the other staff offices, he still managed to receive letters—into a neat bucket called his trash can and had set about grading papers, which never took very long. when he was done, he began flipping through the textbooks stacked on his desk, waiting for the tell-tale click that would herald your arrival.

he used to go for walks during this time. he wouldn’t even bother with his hat, quickly scrawling over mistakes in thick red ink before leaving just as fast. he usually went for a walk outside the city to clear his head and get away from the noise, and maybe stop to buy some trinket for buer while he was out to make up for the fact that he “didn’t socialize enough” for her liking.

he doesn’t do that anymore. his routine had shifted, and the idea of you coming back to an empty office… well, he didn’t want you bothering anyone else with your inane inquiries anyway. he’s not sure anyone was as familiar with your research as him, and he’d rather not gain a reputation for annoying his coworkers by forcing them to keep up with you. no, only he was fit for that task.. and so he waited.

you had walked in with all your usual fanfare, sitting in the chair he never moved, starting to ask pleasantries that he had parried as soon as they left your mouth. his day was fine. his work was fine. his students were annoying. your day was good? good. what did you want and how could he give it to you?

from the moment you began to talk, he knew what your problem was. he was reading about it as you spoke, actually, tracing the arguments on the page as your words filtered through his mind like coffee through paper. perhaps if he was the divining sort, he’d sift the grounds and read your fortune.

he wasn’t. he read, occasionally looking up so you knew he was listening and continued, eyes flicking over your expression. you seemed more irritated than usual, the softness wrapped around the steel cord of your demeanor shedding away. it, like you, was interesting. that was the only reason why he was staring.

your hair was out of order, like you’d been fussing with it on the walk here. your uniform was out of place, as if thrown on without your usual care. your brow was set tight, though it softened when he’d snapped the book in his hands shut without a word, waiting for the truth you knew he held.

why was it, he wondered, that you bothered with small talk? why was it, as he pushed the book across to you, did he put up with it? why had he wanted to hold onto it longer, and why was it your exasperation that had made him cave?

curiosity. that was all. for when you took it into your lap with a smile he ignored, you did not leave. you stayed, launching into a spiel about the house of daena’s lending practices. did you know he was the one with all the books you needed? the house was short on such a niche subject as yours, and he didn’t like the idea of you going without the materials you needed—it would only cause more headaches, after all.

even if you did know, why tell him? this was not a problem he could fix. he looked to the remaining books on his desk, but found no answer. you had pulled the topic away from research, and he was at a loss for what you wanted. back to you, his eyes wandered, searching for some other indication. he would not say he was the smartest when it came to human emotion, but he still knew how to read one’s intentions; spending decades stuck in a palace of ice would teach anyone how. yet, despite all of this experience, he kept getting caught on one detail.

curiosity. that was all. your lips were dry, just so, and he was wondering why. had your stress caused you to neglect yourself? that happened often among scholars, to his understanding. were you without water? or had the heat gotten to you? if you were flushed, he couldn’t tell. you spoke without a rasp, the same voice that had haunted him since you had first called his “name” from up the hall, lips the same shade of pink he always knew.

curiosity. intrigue. novelty. he pulled his eyes away with an odd feeling pooling in his fingertips, willing himself back in line. and yet, the moment he looked back at you, his gaze was weighed down. dry, yes, but seeming so soft between the cracks. or was he just seeing things?

with a groan and a harsh shake of his head, he reached down, pulling the old proposals out of the trash. you had stopped talking, so he waved his hand to lead you to continue, pushing his eyes across the lines of text instead.

a lecture he was bored by from the name alone. a subject he held no research on. a lot of those, actually, people seeking his help from across darshans either instead of or after going to their sages. in fact, he had received proposals from everywhere but vahumana, it seemed. it was ridiculous. maybe only those he dealt with knew how futile sending a letter his way would go. should he give the relevant letters to you and say he had sent you in his stead? some of the subjects looked like something you would be interested in… it would never work, but he took the excuse to look back at you anyway, currently elbow-deep in a story about the last time you went to puspa café.

what did you drink, he wondered? was it why your skin looked so rough? perhaps the next time he went by the shops, he should find you some sunsettia juice.

it was that thought—and assuredly not that you had caught his eye with confusion—that had snapped him out of his thoughts. he dropped the stack in his hands on the desk and again pulled his synthetic eyes from where they should never have strayed, gesturing to the book in your lap with some snappy quip he didn’t think much about. there was little reason to put thought into insults he didn’t mean, and calling you poorly-read would only reflect back on him and his help.

which was fine. because he wasn’t helping you for his reputation. he was helping you for his own selfish…

you stood, giving thanks that slipped right off his shoulders, as easy as the breeze on a hot day. you “pushed in” the chair that had nowhere to go, leaving it where it would stay until you returned, like a dog by the door.

“don’t come back,” he called, voice holding no bite as the door latched shut. it was useless putting effort into things he didn’t intend to happen anyway.

[krispiecake]

tell me why i can hear another tenants fucking music from my flat. HE DOESNT EVEN LIVE IN MY BUILDING. HE LIVES IN A COMPLETELY SEPARATE BUILDING ON THE SECOND FLOOR AND I CAN HEAR HIS MUSIC FROM MY FLAT. MY FLAT WHICH IS IN A DIFFERENT SEPARATE BUILDING.

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

wanna ask how you feel about the eridan bpd headcanon/theory(?? not sure what to call it!) you're so good at your character analysis and i'd love to see your outlook on it

Since I don't have a degree or any formal training in psychology, I feel deeply uncomfortable diagnosing characters. I've made an autism joke before but only because I'm on the spectrum. He's definitely traumatized and anxious, but I mean those as descriptors of his behavior rather than capital-D Diagnoses. I try to focus on those when I can - the cause and effect of cognition, self-image, and behavior - and those factors may very well match up with DSM criteria, but I try not to touch an actual diagnosis with a ten foot pole unless the author has explicitly stated that X character has Y condition.

[genericwizard]

Ok I can't keep it in my drafts this time. enlighten me if you want; why do people think Diluc is like, a good guy?

Let me be clear, I love Diluc, but I also think he's kind of a shithead. I don't think his actions towards Kaeya can ever be construed as reasonable, his decision to seek vengeance alone irresponsible (even if Kaeya encouraged him), and his vigilantism a product of his paternalistic belief that only he knows what's good for Mondstadt (untrue).

Diluc in the present is the man trying to come back from the bad person he has been. But his solution is to force himself to do a job he never thought he'd have and challenge random Fatui factions to a fight so he can torture them in his basement. I think he has the capacity for good in him, and is trying to change, but I don't see why people think that his actions were all totally a good idea and when we say he's "an uncrowned king of Mond" that's not like, frightening.

[crimson-catalyst]

lovingly bonked clarion with the autism stick from day one

[kvetchinglyneurotic]

I've got a headcanon of jamie having problems with food, not an eating disorder, but some kind of issues. Between his autistic coding (flappy hands et al) and the food behaviours which can come with that, and his growing up poor (council estate) and the strict nutrition plan he's on for football, I just see him as having a limited diet and some issues around trying new foods.

I can definitely see that! Like when he's little, Georgie finds a handful of foods that a) Jamie can eat b) she can afford and c) he can prepare on his own if necessary, and then just never really has the time or money to try expanding beyond that since she likely wouldn't be able to afford to replace anything Jamie hadn't tried before if it turned out he couldn't eat it.

So his first consistent encounter with new foods would probably be from school lunches — I don't really know how the football academy system works, but I assume the meals they eat on campus/at training are based around some kind of meal plan guidelines — and staying over or living with his dad. James seems like he would both have very strong opinions about what Jamie should and shouldn't be eating for football (likely without any scientific basis) and be a "suck it up and eat it anyway" type of parent when it comes to sensory issues, which is obviously a pretty terrible combination.

I could see pre-teen/teenage Jamie developing a relationship with food where stuff on his meal plan falls into the narrow category of both providing the necessary nutrients for football and not triggering his sensory issues, while anything outside of that is automatically unappealing because he's never really had the experience of being able to try a bit of something, find that he hates it, and not have to finish eating it anyway. Which could also contribute to his difficulty eating during his 3x11 depression spiral, as the prospect of seeing his dad again might bring up some of those negative associations with food and (at least for me) stress tends to worsen sensory issues.

[philippageorgiou]

people always talk about how autistic girls often go undiagnosed because girl autism presents so differently to boy autism but no one talks about what it's like to be an autistic girl going undiagnosed because she wasn't socialised into the typical girl role in society and thus her boy-presenting autism was just perceived as rebellion

[slocumjoe]

autistic danse being so comfortable and himself in the bos because the nature and standards don't require him to mask too much

[atinyladybug-art]

Abirt Kravitz (Dr Bright Rewrite)

Up-close fullbody:

My Dr Bright rewrite! I'm so happy to finally get it done! His name is Abirt Kravitz and he's currently the second oldest out of all 5 Kravitz Siblings. He's also O5-7.

Not much have changed since my former Bright designs other than a change from the amulet and I made him look older and fixed his colours a bit more.

There's still other stuff that I haven't decided on- like their anomalies and backstory. And the 963 Design is not permanent. It's what I'm going with right now until I get some better ideas.

Anyways, some fun facts about Abirt:

Xe uses any pronouns!

Has multiple doctorates and masters because he's old and has a lot of free time but he's most well-known for his specialty in history making him a historian!

He has 3 kids but they went missing years ago (a lore of its own).

Dating Simon Glass! They are your local elderly queer couple!

If the name Abirt is familiar then you're right! It's actually the name for Bright in the Bellerverse canon after they all became gods to the new world!

And the O5-7 part came from the newer series where Jack has been written as part of the council. I really like that idea. Being O5-7 specifically came from SCP-5493 and The Foundation is Broke.

Also! The character description is written in the O5 Command Dossier method

Image Text under the cut:

Abirt Kravitz

O5-7 | The Eternal

Genderfluid. Jewish origin. Unknown age though rumoured to have been above 2 centuries. Varying appearance with a favour of accessories and jewelry. Said to have gained immortality from a cursed bloodline.

O5-7 plays the role of personnel director. He is in-charge of overseeing all personnel designation within the Foundation. Is also said to personally run at least 3 different Foundation sites in-person.

Known for their lack of formalities and charisma. Within Foundation staff, however, he is known for his irritability and extreme high expectations.

One of the most active O5s with connections everywhere.

[to-coyly-go]

ok so i'm so enamored with tolkien's middle-earth. i love that world so so much. i love how his works shaped the high fantasy genre and set the bar so damn high, because, hello?

he didn't just create a massively complicated world with its own mythology that can sometimes be inconsistent because of just how deep he went with it, he also made the languages for it?? most fantasy authors invent a couple words at best and their language logic is shoddy at best. but not tolkien.

you could probably communicate using quenya or sindarin, two languages he created and which are extremely different from each other, not just in their vocabulary, but in their structure as well. and that's barely the tip of tolkien's language iceberg! he then went and made more!

he thought about everything, there's a language spoken commonly by all races, westron, which is why the fellowship is able to communicate immediately. the hobbits speak a dialect of it, and this is remarked upon by other characters. but it's not their first language, save for a couple, it's a second language they had to actively learn. plus, not everyone can speak westron, namely haldir's elvish company. there are linguistic barriers in me fantasy book how cool is that?!?!?!

and just looking at the tolkien gateway, he created eight language groups, some of which influence each other, two of those being full on language family trees with old speech that developed into a newer language that is currently being used. of course, not every one of these languages is fully developed, most are just rudimentary grammar, if any, and a couple words, but they are there!

[dr-jonathan-fanshawe]

you should learn to be a doctor again!! i think we need more transgender medical professionals in the world honestly

Well, how do you imagine it would go? I struggle to even take a walk outside, not to mention having to actually speak to anyone. I have never fitted right within the society, but now it is much worse, since it is utterly alien to me. Perhaps these issues might be resolved overtime, but there is still the question of my legal identity or lack thereof. Though, I'm sure it could be solved as well, with the help of some convenient connections...

Hm. I suppose it is possible. But this idea, however exciting it it, seems unachievable to me for... well, a rather silly reason. I am tired. It might have to do something with my hunger, but I believe it had started before it. I can barely make myself wake up in the morning (or rather daytime), and while student life might reawaken me for some time, I fear that it will not last long. That excitement is short-lived, and very soon I shall once again find myself in bed, struggling to remember any reason to get out of it.

Our bodies have a way of knowing things without our mind realising them fully. I suspect that mine knows that I am living on borrowed time.

[goodpointsandbadpoints]

Thinking about episode 9 of A Kind of Spark.

-

I love how Keedie reengages with an old interest to help herself recover. That is a real thing that autistics do a lot to help themselves feel better. Whether it's an object that we love, or a topic that we used to learn everything about, going back to those old interests can make us feel safe and whole again.

I love that the show had that. I'm so used to stories about autistics that use the same five tropes over and over again (which isn't bad...but it starts to feel impersonal). You don't really see autistic characters do things like get burnt out and then recover with a special interest. I'm so happy about that being portrayed.

[dirtbagcore]

cover art for ACT 3 of my fic

i drew h*rry p*tter as shelley duvall. "why"? uhhhhhhh. ....anyways so

[p4nd0rus]

I wish more people were invested in the hitman series…as in, more Tumblr people invested in World of Tomorrow(Sapienza), specifically. I need Silvio Caruso fanart, headcanons, self ships and AUs and I need it NOW (I literally kin this man it’s not even funny :[)

[bibiana112]

HIIII ive seen you mention your ztd aftermath fic a few times in tags and id rly like to know more... feel free to yap about it im curious

Hiii hellooo SO!!! Something that always sticks out to me with fics that touch a little on the immediate post ztd reactions is that things just kind of sort themselves out and everyone chills out for a little bit which I cannot see happening like no wayyy it's okay for the purposes of other people's fics but personally I'm a staunch believer in effort going into the smallest things in life especially when it involves a group of people and especially when you're fucked up as they'd be after that and it's something I love exploring in my writings like expanding in gross detail on the more mundane ups and downs between all the high stakes stuff like I don't think they'd walk out of there working in harmony at allll there'd be so many factors going into how everyone would be thinking and how they'd interact with each other and how the lives they've lead would inform the new trauma after that and how each of them would react to their immediate circumstances like on a physical level

I mean. Diana is completely new to any of this stuff and she's supposed to just transition seamlessly into a sudden new commited relationship and a daughter her own age? Phi has not gotten a single break since she experienced the events of vlr and has a whole complex about where she comes from and she's supposed to feel uncomplicated joy at finding out these are her parents and that the motherfucker that made the virus that's been making her life hell for a week is related to her? It's just been one week for her and that's so long but so little too she'd still have a connection to most of her old life? That shit isn't true about Sigma what's he supposed to do since Akane lied to his face about not knowing what happened at the test site for decades? It's not even something she remembers doing to him but he remembers spending a lifetime with her I love the ztd booklet scene of them interacting during d-com he asks Akane not to let her future self lie to past him point blank and she just says what he wants to hear and Phi stands in silence like she can't wrap her head around why he thinks for even a second that she'd be honest about being honest but stil extending enough goodwill to silently wait and see if she will. the man would be having a whole crisis of faith

Where do they leave Sean? Should he just stay with Q-team wouldn't he need maintenance and therefore stay in contact at least with Sigma? Eric doesn't remember much so he'd shockingly be one of the most calm people there, he'd have to deal with some revelations but Sean informed them of it in a good enough way that he seemed to take it well enough and even if that's not true he's the most high masking mf of the entire cast he wouldn't let himself step on other people's toes, if anything he'd only be set off by how everyone would have something to hold against Mira now, she kills everyone once except Carlos and Akane and she doesn't remember but they do, in fact there being a serial killer in their midst memo never gets to c-team delta never tells the whole snail story to every team. Would Mira just turn herself in without any resistance? Wouldn't someone have to talk her into it or at least make sure that's what she's really going to do since the stakes are so high? It's her fucking fault rad-6 got out too the characters have no reason to trust she's just gonna beeline to a police station. Carlos would probably be fine for the most part but he wouldn't be around long to keep everyone else sane especially Junpei and Akane because he'd probably go check on Maria as soon as possible especially since we're led to believe avoiding the apocalypse helps her recover

Akane herself would be all sorts of fucked up about it, there'd be so much pressure on her by everyone there and she'd try to be forward thinking and work on the extremist stuff immediately without processing anything and overcompensate the new recent failure to foresee dange and her revictimization by being even more controlling and inconsiderate to the others which is an energy Junpei would match I think especially going off his enneagram they'd be immediatly set in like an unhealthy loop of behaviors that push each other's trauma buttons on accident until they're hurting cause they're both trying to rush things and put each other in idealized boxes they imagined and having things their way Junpei is gonna come off much worse probably cause he's not a pov character and he's canonically an underhanded asshole when he has reson to be and he would not trust akane or her brother wouldn't be trying to pull another fast one on him so soon especially if we assume he has restored memories of the c-team ending too he'd like get keyed up and paranoid of being away from her for even a second

There are so many logistics involved in transporting and keeping in contact with people while simultaneously making sure no one leaks any sensitive information and that's probably important for Crash Keys and would fall mostly on Aoi to keep track of but he would in my opinion not be doing very okay either be it out of separation anxiety a level of psychically feeling like shit because of what akane goes through or just stress from preparing for an apocalypse more likely all of the above lol And he'd be working with half the info everyone else has cause if Akane doesn't pace herself in passing the new info to him he's gonna snap

Like I don't think these issues would be a slow burn to boil over, I think everything would feel like it's all going wrong from the get go and that kind of stress can be palpable in a group setting even if they're not under direct threath of death anymore I mean that's what ptsd is it's when you get fight or flight or freeze levels of fear in an entirely safe environment due to perceived instability and then they'd eat and rest and deal with it better for the next day, be more functional and levelheaded about everything going forward and even perhaps apologize and help each other out, and they'd be like that for a good while until underlying issues start to surface again in individual relationships cough mostly the junepei cough

[giantbatbf]

Saw your tag on my stimboard and I wanted to let you know that I'm about 95% sure that BOTH Ken and his older brother were autistic. The signs were there and I'm shaking your hand so much right now. Also some people theorize that Autism has a genetic origin so it makes you wonder.

the "gifted child" -> to mental and physical breakdown -> to unmasking and accepting yourself -> to starting to perform average/poorly at things you used to excel at because you refuse to push yourself anymore, but also being visibly way happier is real!!

also yea im pretty sure there's plenty of evidence for autism being genetic so it actually makes more sense for them both to be ND