#autism aunt shirt

[sunshine-theseus]

Fools | Kyra Cooney-Cross x ND!Reader

Words: 4.3k

Summary: no one understood your mind, until you met Kyra.

Notes: Guys I have no knowledge of how Emirates is laid out, how meeting players off the pitch works etc, so I’m completely making this shit up I’m sorry. also sorry for the super long introduction, and the shit writing, I haven’t written in months.

Warnings: mentions of abuse - not proofread. i'm so sorry if this is so shit i genuinely haven't written in months. i wanted this one to be good so bad but i just don't think it is

the person who requested this has since deactivated so i actually feel so bad that i didn't get this out while they were on here. i'm genuinely so sorry for the past like 6 months.

I always struggled with social interactions. I didn’t understand it for a long time, why I always had to smile and hug people, why I had to lie about certain things like how I thought my aunt’s bright green hat looked, why I couldn’t ramble about Star Wars or the new penguin facts I just learned.

Then there were the sounds, and lights and the way things felt. Everything had to be specific, or I couldn’t focus. Sometimes if it was bad enough that I would have a breakdown, unable to do anything. My parents tried to scold it out of me when as a kid I couldn’t eat certain foods or wear the clothes they wanted. Sometimes if they deemed it worthy, I’d be met with the flesh of a palm against my cheek or bottom.

-

When I was 12, I presented the idea that maybe I was autistic to my parents. I’d researched it at school for a social emotional learning class we had to take, and I couldn’t help but notice the similarities I found within myself. If I think about it hard enough, I can feel every burning outline of the dark red hand marks that bloomed on my skin hours after the interaction, and the burning of my eyes as my stomach rumbled, drowned out by the music rumbling through my headphones.

-

At 17 I emancipated from my parents and moved to North Watford, renting out a small studio apartment above a record shop. I completed my final year of high school, working part time in the store, building a much-desired routine. The man that owned the shop and my apartment, and his young daughter, were migrants from Cuba, and more than happy to accommodate to my needs. They even chipped in to help me pay for my autism screening after I graduated high school.

I think they were the first people I willingly hugged ever.

I stopped masking when I moved, so the daughter, Elena; 5, took a few months to understand why I didn’t like touch or loud noises and why I didn’t understand some of the jokes she said that others usually laughed at. Not that I’d had the diagnosis at that time, but she was happy to just spend time with me. Every afternoon when I came back from school and started my shift, she’d beg me for more penguin facts, asking which was my favourite penguin. In return she’d spend the 2-hour shift drawing me something, usually a penguin, to pin on my corkboard at home.

I’d then help with her homework while Camilo closed shop and posted any online orders. It was a routine I cherished deeply.

-

Now, 3 and a bit years later at 21 years old, they managed to drag me to a football game. Equipped with headphones and a couple small sensory toys, as well as a hoodie under the “Miedema” jersey, the material of which originally had me tugging and prying the shirt away from my skin.

Elena and Camilo had been big fans of Arsenal for as long as I’d known them, going to every home game, begging me to join them every week without fail. I finally caved during a break in my uni courses, with nothing to do and Elena’s birthday falling on the day of a game, there was no other choice.

The newly 9-year-old basically imploded when she saw my printed ticket stub, tucked tightly into her birthday card. I gently ruffled her hair, which had become my version of hugging her, and showed her the 3 matching red and white #11 jerseys I purchased not long ago. She’d talked a lot about this Vivianne Miedema and how she wanted to be just like her when she grew up, but she’d never gotten a jersey, or seats on the bottom tier. Today was the day.

~

“Come ooonnn I want to get to our seats!” the pinky of her left hand links with my right one as her other hand is holding her dad’s, and she’s dragging us down the lane toward the entrance.

“Slow down Pollito! We have 20 more minutes until we need to be seated.” My special schedule for the day runs through my head as I check my watch. Plenty of time as long as the crowd keeps flowing.

“I wish you didn’t learn Spanish. It’s such a silly nickname.”

“But you’re my little chicken.” I send a joking frown her way and she replies with a toothless grin.

With the abrupt end to the conversation, we arrive at the gate. Showing the stewardess our tickets to be scanned, we then head toward our seats. As Camilo and I take our seats at the very front, instead of make way to their usual seats a tier up, Elena stops and looks back and forth between us.

“There’s no way you got us these seats.” Without a word I pull the girl in between us and she begins to ramble about how excited she is to be able to see the game so close, still able to be clearly heard through my headphones I manage to slip over my ears.

~

The game is drawn 1-1 just after half time, but Arsenal is close to having the upper hand. From across the pitch, Elena spots the tall and lanky number 11, Vivianne Miedema, pulling off her fluoro yellow bib and warm up shirt and lining up next to number 32 behind the fourth official who is prepping her sign. With a couple of whacks to my arm and an aggressive point of her finger, Elena makes me and Camilo very aware of the impending entrance of her favourite player, and another really attractive girl who is very obviously wearing her socks on the wrong feet. The thought makes me squirm but a shot on goal quickly manages to take my focus.

“Who’s the one coming on with Viv? You’ve never told me about number 32.” It’s hard to take my eyes off the girl as she jumps from one foot to the other, anticipating her entrance.

“Oh that’s Kyra Cooney-Cross! She’s Australian, she transferred at the start of the season. Jonas should play her more.” I acknowledge her words with a hum and a nod before we join in cheering Viv and Kyra on.

My eyes are glued to Kyra the rest of the game. Without any knowledge of how football works, I’m left to assume she’s good with the way she dances around players and passes the ball. It was weird, but her movement was so free flowing it would not be atrocious to confuse her with a ballerina. Elegant and calculated, no hesitation.

~

“Where are we going?” my pinky is once again linked with Elena’s as I drag her and Camilo through Emirates.

“Papa where is she going? The exit is that way.”

“I have no clue chica, but I suppose we should trust her aye?” with that, the father-daughter duo track behind me.

Eventually I stop just where the opening of the tunnel leads out on to the pitch and show a lady the pass I’d been carrying around all day. She smiles and begins walking down the tunnel, waving behind her as a sign for us to follow.

“What’s going on?” Elena asks once again, but I just follow the lady onto the pitch, where multiple members of the Arsenal squad are now loitering around, obviously waiting for something, or someone. At the front of the group is Viv, and when she spots the small girl behind me her eyes light up.

“Hi! You must be Elena. We’ve heard a lot about you!” she sends the girl a smile, but Elena doesn’t make any move to continue the conversation. My head whips to her and I nearly have to laugh from how adorable she is. Her jaw has dropped open and her eyes are welling up with tears, so I ruffle her hair and bend down to her height, removing my headphones.

“What’s up buttercup?” I lightly tap her head.

“That’s really her.” she whispers to me, her eyes not leaving the Dutch woman, who lets out a chuckle.

“Yes it is.”

“How?” I tap the side of my nose at her question indicating it’s to be left a secret.

“Can I have a hug?” Viv kneels on one knee and opens her arms and Elena suddenly breaks lose from her trance and runs up to her hero.

“It’s nice to meet you liefje, I hear you’ve been a fan for a long time. And today’s your birthday. How old are you turning?”

“Nine!”

“Oh wow, you’re growing up!”

“I know, but Y/N still calls me Pollito. I’m not a little chicken.” Everyone looking on bursts out laughing as Elena frowns, and while I join them, the loud sound simply reminds me of the lack of protection on my ears.

~

Elena gets whisked off to talk and play around with Viv and some of the other girls, who seem to all have taken a genuine liking to the young girl, Camilo following to watch over them. I stand firmly on the sidelines, fidgeting with an infinity cube and trying to forget the sudden scratching of my hoodie’s tag on the back of my neck and the tightness of my socks, when a now familiar face pops in front of me.

I don’t notice her at first, my eyes are closed and I’m trying breathing patterns in hopes that the overstimulating sensations with dissipate. It’s only when I open my eyes to check on Elena that I get the shock of my life. Number 32 is just standing in front of me, staring, waiting for me to notice her. no less than a minute ago she’d been spinning Elena around and laughing with her, which I’d found alarmingly adorable, how’d she get here so fast?

She doesn’t say anything, she just smiles and waves, and I realise she must think I can’t hear her with my headphones on, which many people tend to ignore. Wow she’s much prettier up close.

“Hi, I’m Y/N” I return her smile, but don’t make any move to remove the headphones.

“I’m Kyra.” Her voice is muffled but her accent is incredible and like music to my ears.

“You played really well today.” Is she blushing? Red creeps up her neck and finds home on her round cheeks as she smiles brightly.

“Ah thanks, I try to give it my all. Hoping to prove I deserve more game time.”

“You don’t get played often?” another chuckle passes her lips and I feel my stomach tighten.

“Uh no. I take it you’re not a big football fan?”

“What gives you that idea.”

“Well rocking up to an Arsenal game with blue nails for a start.” I cock my head to the side and give her a confused look. I did a lot of research for today, there was no room for me to mess up.

“Chelsea, our biggest rivals, their colour is blue. It’s basically forbidden for an arsenal fan to wear blue to a game. Trust me, I learnt the hard way.”

I’m quick to hide my hands in the pocket at the front of my hoodie, fidgeting with my nails. How did I manage to fuck that up?

“You don’t really have to worry, just maybe keep it in mind if you ever come to another game. I hope you do by the way.” She flashes me a smile that makes me feel warm and I can’t help myself.

“You’re very pretty.” She’s about to reply when I glance down and notice her socks are still wrong.

“And I’m not sure if you know but your socks are on the wrong feet.” It’s quiet for a moment and I’m not sure if my common candour has once again overstepped. I can’t even open my mouth to apologise before she giggles.

“I knew there was something wrong. I keep doing it but no one tells me until after the game… and you’re quite beautiful yourself. If you don’t mind me saying.” My eyes continue to avoid her face as I bounce on the balls of my feet and try to refrain from shaking my hands, my most common stim.

“Thank you.”

We’re silent for a minute or so, which I don’t mind now that I’m more familiar with her. I continue to watch Elena and Camilo, who are now playing in a 5v5, Viv carrying the girl halfway down their makeshift pitch before helping her kick the ball. When her laughs echo through the stadium, joy breaking through her screams and from the yells of her dad who is playing a rather poor referee, I’m reminded of how much I love this family. I can’t help the smile on my face.

“Your sister is very adorable.” I glance to my side where Kyra now resides and contemplate telling her she isn’t my sister, but the words get stuck in my throat. If I were to say they weren’t my family after all they’ve done for me, then I’d be lying.

“Yeah. She’s basically my whole life.”

“Hey can I ask about the headphones? I mean you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want but-“

“I’m autistic. Struggle really bad with sound and other stimulants. I wear headphones to dampen sounds, especially in public. And stadiums are full of sounds.” My palms sweat a little and my breath is laboured for a moment. This is usually the part where people decide I’m a freak and never talk to me again.

“Oh cool. I totally get that, the sound thing.” That warm feeling returns. She doesn’t question anything, she just agrees.

~

Eventually the meet and greet had to end, but I manage to get a few of the girl’s numbers, including number 32’s. Something I hadn’t expected was that the team would love Elena so much that they wanted to organise season tickets and some more passes to meet up after home games. I couldn’t help but be a little proud of myself as the young girl rambled about how amazing it was to get to hang out with her idols, and the prospect of seeing them again.

~

Uni starts back up the following week, so I don’t join the two for a game for quite a while. Despite that, I find myself texting Kyra most days, a good morning and goodnight routine quickly being established. We ask each other questions about each other. ‘What did you want to be if football didn’t work out?’ ‘What made you want to study your course?’ ‘what’s your favourite thing about Australia?’.

She liked to ask me about parts of my autism every now and then. She wanted to know what things to avoid, what topics made me ramble for ages, safe foods. The only other people who had ever cared this much were Elena and Camilo. The two of which had definitely taken note of how happy I’d grown since the game.

“Who are you talking to Angelito? You haven’t smiled this big in a long time.” Camilo takes a seat beside me behind the desk of the store

There is no need to hide the blossoming relationship from him, so I turn my screen to show the messages between Kyra and I, a bold ‘No. 32’ under a very weird but unmistakable picture of the girl. He hums and smiles, lightly nudging our shoulders together.

“She likes you.”

“Pft no she doesn’t.”

“‘you’re so cute.’ ‘I really like you.’ ‘I’ll save that for when I take you on a date.’ With a winky face emoji. She literally admits she likes you. Twice.”

“I thought that was that flirty thing people do with their friends.”

“I know when people like each other.”

“How Milo?”

“I have a gift.”

“A gift hmm?” he just smiles widely down at me before taking my phone again. He begins to type something.

“What are you writing Milo? Milo!” I glance over his shoulder.

‘I really like you and would like to go on a date if you’re free.’ I’m about to scold him but three dots appear as Kyra begins typing.

“If this works you owe me an extra hour this week.”

“You are an evil schemer Camilo.” I say before squeezing his shoulder, a common sign of affection we’d developed.

‘I’d really like that. Tomorrow’s our day off if that works.’

I can’t help the squeal I let out as Camilo writes a response in confirmation.

“I’m going on a date.”

“You deserve this kiddo.”

~

Kyra and I agree on a dinner date at a restaurant I’d mentioned really enjoying a few months ago, that I hadn’t had a chance to visit since. I’d made the reservation, asking for the specific table I’d sat at the last time I came, and I’d already decided on what I was getting before I even hoped in the car to drive there.

I’d planned everything perfectly. The place, my outfit, what time I had to leave to arrive there 10 minutes before our agreed upon time. I hadn’t taken into account the car speeding through a red light and crashing into the car in the right lane beside me. Or the fact that due to the momentum I’d get caught between the 2 cars and the building on the corner of the street I was just about to turn down. No more than 15 metres from the restaurant but I’m trapped and the seatbelt is too tight and my head hurts. I’m crushed between my door and the centre console and all the sirens and ambulance lights approaching are too much and all I can do it cry.

If I could just reach my bag in the footwell of the passenger seat I could get my headphones to relieve some of the stimulation, but I can’t bend that way without my ribs screaming and whatever is poking my hip in my back making itself known.

I pray to every god I can name that I pass out, but no one hears as the jaws of life pry open my door. When were the other cars moved?

“Ma’am we have to cut you out. my colleague here is going to hold you up. Is that okay?” I don’t have any energy to say no, so I nod, waiting for some scissors to snip away at the seatbelt. Instead, I hear an electric saw whir to life.

“W- what’s the saw for?” my words are barely recognisable as they slur together.

“Ma’am everything is okay, just stay still for us okay?”

The sawing is over quicker than it begun, and the paramedics make an effort to move me as carefully as they can onto the stretcher, then into the ambulance. I make no move to complain about how the neck brace is itchy and feels suffocating.

A minute passes and through the newly developed ringing in my ears, I hear someone calling my name. they sound so far away but when I open my eyes again, Kyra is standing above me, next to the paramedic who’s hooking me up to monitors,

“Do you know this lady ma’am?” she asks me as I stare up at the girl I was meant to be on a date with.

“Yeah she’s my girlfriend.” A voice in the back of my head is worried that maybe that will freak Kyra out, but I know they won’t let her ride with me if we don’t have some close connection and for some reason friend does not cross my mind.

They allow her to take the extra seat beside me and she loops her pinky with mine. She keeps glancing down toward my stomach and taking deep breaths as we make our way down the streets of London. I try to see what she’s looking at but the brace doesn’t allow me to look that far down.

“You’re going to be okay.” She whispers as they roll me out of the ambulance, and she manages to quickly kiss me before I’m gone from view.

~

I don’t know how long I’m out for, but when I wake up there is a sterile white light beaming down on me and I have to instantly close my eyes. I’m quick to take note of the horrible feeling of the hospital gown I definitely wasn’t in when I’d gone under.

“Papa! She’s awake!” I let out a groan at the yell but and quick to smile once the voice registers in my head.

“Pollito.” My voice is no more than a whisper, hoarse and dry.

“Hey Angelito. How are you feeling.”

“Horrible. The light’s too bright and the gown is so itchy.” Neither Elena nor Camilo leave my side, but the light is off within seconds.

“I more meant physically. You were hit pretty hard.” The screeching of tyres, the smell of burnt rubber, the flashing lights, all rush back to me. So does the pain.

“Now that you mention it. What’s the damage?” it’s meant as a joke but I’m trying not to cry.

“3 broken ribs, 2 fractured, a torn vastus lateralis in your thigh, a lot of muscle damage in your back. It’s going to be a lot of physical therapy kiddo.” The thought has bile rising in my throat.

“Fuck me.”

“It’s okay, we’re going to be here the whole way. All of us.” By now I could know the voice in a crowd of people.

I turn my head and there she is. Kyra is sat in one of the uncomfortable hospital seats with her hand on top of mine.

“If it’s okay with you, Camilo, me and some of the arsenal girls are going to sort out a schedule to take turns helping you with PT. Viv was really hoping she could give some tips considering how long she spent doing PT.”

“That sounds perfect. But please tell me one of you has my pyjamas. I need to get out of this gown.”

~

There was no lie in how difficult rehab was. I had an hour appointment at the hospital every day and additional work at home that Milo, Kyra and some of the arsenal girls happily helped with. The hardest hurdle was amount of physical touch that was required. My physical therapist, Jordan, always made sure I knew when she needed to touch my leg or something, but that did very little to sooth the feeling that crawled beneath my skin. She was able to dim the fluorescent white lights and allowed me to wear my headphone which did help a small amount.

Kyra basically moved into my room above the shop. Milo insisted he could do all the work of getting me around the house and the shop, but we knew he couldn’t while maintaining the shop and looking after Elena. Elena tried her best to help by making me breakfast. She gathered pre-made versions of my safe breakfast food and carefully place them separately on a plate, with a glass of orange juice every morning. After the first week she realised I’d be in a wheelchair and struggling to move around much for much longer than she thought, so she quickly gave up on that idea and began making me penguin drawings at school.

I’d adapted to having Kyra around much quicker than I expected to. When I moved in at 17, it took me months to get used to the layout and the fact that I was alone, despite Camilo and Elena living in the house across the road. I adapted to Kyra’s presence within weeks.

After the second week we’d decided it was easier to share the bed rather than her sleeping on the couch, which had been the biggest change. I struggled with it the first few nights. I had a sleep routine that was already disrupted by the injuries, now I had to take another person into account. But she was so warm, and I felt so safe in her arms. Whenever I woke up from a nightmare about the crash, she grabbed me an iced tea and my headphones and would ramble about whatever interests she had recently developed or whatever was happening at training.

It was in the second month things took a more serious turn. Well serious for our relationship. I was sitting at the table chopping the vegetables for dinner while she begins cooking, when I took a minute to just look at her. The warm lighting softened her features, her quiet humming to whatever song was playing carried throughout the room, the smile that seemed to never leave her face sat perfectly on her lips as she listened to me ramble about the newly discovered yellow king penguin. She was so radiant and attentive, and she was never annoyed at me when I was overstimulated or wanted to infodump. She was seemingly unaffected by my rehab and most importantly unaffected by my autism. After a life full of negative interactions and losing people because of one thing I couldn’t control, I’d found a family and a partner who embraced me.

I didn’t realise I was crying until she turned and asked me what was wrong.

“I’m just grateful.”

“For what?”

“You, Milo, Elena. I love you all so much.” I didn’t realise I’d said it really. I was just being candid, as I always was.

“You love me?”

“Yes.” There was no hesitation even as it dawned on me.

“Well, I love you too.” There is a split second between the end of her sentence and the meeting of our lips in a kiss.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” I ask as we pull away.

“Wait- I thought- when you called me your girlfriend on the ambulance I kind of took that as you asking me to be your girlfriend.” She begins laughing.

“What? This whole time I’ve been nervous about actually asking you and you already thought I had?” I can’t help but join her laugh.

“We’re such fools.” She whispers, and we kiss again.

I'll always be a fool for her.

[scleroticstatue]

A "back in my day wouldn't have autism, no it was just normal when great grandpa had autistic behaviors" video came up in my feed, and for some reason I feel compelled to share a story of my great aunt.

So, one family reunion, my dad's side got together for a week around the Fourth of July at this lakeside town in Michigan. We all decided to go see the parade, and my aunt decided to dress in three different and very clashing patterns of plaid (via kilt, socks, and hat) to show her Scottish heritage on America day, and in her mind, this was the height of American patriotism. Keep in mind that while we do have Scottish heritage, none of the plaids she was wearing were family clan tartans. They were, like, Walmart plaids. This has no real relevance to the story, but it is a very important part of it in my mind.

Well, we head down to the parade in our kitschy family reunion t-shirts which state "[Family Name] Established here," and while they will eventually have dozens of signatures from other family members on them, they don't at this moment, and we could very easily be mistaken for some restaurant or organization. We settle in to watch the parade, but the timing is off (a time before cell phones and Google maps meant little towns had logistical struggles occasionally) and so, about a third of the way through the parade, there's a gap on one float and the next.

Well, my aunt sees this as the perfect time to get everyone standing and moving. If by moving, you mean moving into the street and marching in the parade. And either all the adults in the room didn't comprehend what was happening until it was too late, or they were so used to her antics no one even considered stopping her. So me and my various cousins and aunts and uncles joined the parade, like some unknown business attempting to advertise themselves, waving at the onlookers we had started the morning as.

Anyway. As long as you act confidently enough, no one will question you. Even when they should.

[sunanthrope]

Autism things I do idk

- say "you should do ..." instead of asking someone. For example "Mom you should make beef shew for dinner again." Instead of "Mom, would you make beef stew again for dinner?"

- I hate brushing my teeth so much. You guys have no idea. But I also hate going to the dentist. So my dentist told me to just clean my teeth with a rag. Doesnt get rid of smell but it does get plaque off your teeth and keeps them from feeling fuzzy. For the smell my dentist recommends not breathing on people and investing in gum

- jump up and down when excited. Especially at sports events or while playing games. For example during baseball as a kid I'd jump up and down while standing in line to bat because I was nervous the kid in the field wouldn't run fast enough and get caught. I'd jump up and down every single time and it got to the point that the coach started calling me Tigger and it kinda stuck until I quit playing baseball

- I hate drinking out of open containers like cups and cans. I will re-use a soda bottle over and over. For example if I drink all the mountain dew out of my bottle I'll go pour more mountain dew rightfrom the 2 liter back into my bottle. I can use different soda brands in different bottle brands but ultimately clear/light soda and dark soda can't mix bottles. It's Prohibited

- I tend to shiver when I have memories of bad sensations. Kinda gross but once I drank root beer from a can (I now hate root beer and cans) and got a live cockroach in my mouth. Every time I remember this I shiver uncontrollably until I manage to force the memory from my mind. No I did not swallow it. I grew up in deep poverty and we had roaches, my grandma had roaches, my aunts and uncles had roaches, etc. Not uncommon to get one in your mouth but I'd been careful until then and it was the first time it happened to me so now it's a core memory

- the same pants for a week. I will wear the same pants every single day until I can smell them. Shirts I obviously change every day because they get stinky and gross much faster, but since I only really wear jeans (and laundry is expensive as hell, we don't have a washing machine, and the laundromat is down 3 flights of steps and I'm disabled). This rule also applies to pajama pants especially since you know. Nobody is gonna be sniffing ms when I'm at home in my pajamas. Unless I can smell they're rank ill keep wearing my plaid grandpa pj pants thank you

[gotta-pet-em-all]

It's not unusual, but it's not exactly typical either. No way to tell without more information if this is something or not.

So I think I mentioned that like. My aunt never goes to restaurants. She’s not good at ordering, plus the autism means she struggles with unfamiliar foods. But this person invited her out and said it would be a good time to catch up.

(And yes, she is texting me updates, I’m part of the group chat now.)

She also dressed up a bit, formal blazer and tie and everything. Which. Does feel kinda romantic to me? Like, I know she just wears the tie because otherwise there’s the gapping issue with her shirt but that’s a bit formal for a friend thing.

….hold up. New text, something about wine and chocolates.

[the-rookinator-3000]

i'm going to assume someone else already sent this by now but just in case. rookie! :-)

its been so long. i still havent answered so FINALLY i got the motivation to. get ready.

🍕 > ROOKIE HCS BELOW!!! THESE ARE EXTREMELY BIASED

he has adhd NOW listen to me i actually did make an entire analysis of rookie's behavioural patterns once before but now it's probably all gone or i scrapped it but IT MADE. SENSE. OKAY and also this is about general hcs im not about to drop a whole analysis on rookie again

also maybe even autism but hmm not so sure abt that one

he uses he/him pronounce but also hes very much not cis do you get it

rookie is multilingual! the club penguin team would probably use this idea for like a one off joke because rookie is the comm lead and can speak different languages

rookie and flit are very close! they go on adventures a lot and flit takes a liking to rookie (i think i've said this beforehand? i dont remember) BUT ITS CUTE OKAY. IMAGINE A LITTLE MINISERIES WITH THEM!!! also its implied in one of rookie's new years quotes in the CPT that he has a puffle

both PH and dot call him "flit 2"

rookie's nickname is "rooks" and specifically dot, cadence and rory call him that. jpg has also called him that ONCE

(semi-canon) aunt arctic gives rookie leadership lessons! you know how rookie is the director of the future EPF right.. so more or less AA training him/bonding and stuff

also another thing is that AA and rookie are like family!!! not exactly family bc .. reasons but its like the found family trope! rookie goes to AA for advice and comfort often

(semi-canon?) rookie hates horror movies/he gets scared very easily

the rubber ducky is his comfort item!! he cant go anywhere without it! if anything bad happens to it rookie is just going to start sobbing on the spot. he also likes to lie saying that it's also his lucky item when he just likes it around him

(CANON) rookie keeps a diary! he likes to decorate them with tiny stickers as if it were his stamp book.

he also likes to draw suns on the pages to indicate his mood, the suns looking a lot like his signature

rookie and dot have a sibling relationship! dot is like a dependable older sister to rookie, the two are a very good duo! (its also very funny to think of the contrast of how sweet and understanding dot is to rookie and how ruthless and sassy she is to jpg...)

rookie is surprisingly very crafty!

rookie likes to draw, although canonically he isn't very good at drawing, he likes to draw regardless! it helps him pass the time

rookie is not fond of rory at all, he finds him kind of annoying. rory however thinks of rookie like his little brother, and likes to pester rookie a lot whenever rookie is nearby

rookie has no family. not explaining any further than that

rookie's igloo was kind of infected by the box dimension's weirdness, thus a lot of his igloo is basically just made of cardboard and is a lot bigger on the inside. however, the outside still remains the same! rookie's weird.. portal igloo

rookie and klutzy very much get along! and i also planned this one scenario where even herbert could sympathize with rookie but i digress thats for my mind only

rookie and dj maxx are friends! (mostly inspired by CPL and how dj maxx borrowed rookie's shirt... i cant believe rookie has so much red penguin rizz)

whenever rookie's mind is set on something, especially if it's something stupid like installing a game on the epf mainframe, he'll actually be able to do it, but will probably forget or just not explain well how he did it . do you get it

rookie is silly :3

OKAY I THINK THATS ALL. THIS WAS A LOT.

[gamerpup1]

bruce banner personality 4 character ai

[{Character(“Bruce Banner”)

Alias(“Bruce”)

Gender(“Cisgender male”)

Age(“54 years old")

Sexuality(“Bisexual" + “Attracted to men” + “Attracted to women” + “Prefers men”)

Height(“5’8” + “172.72 cm”)

Language(“English" + “Russian” + “Austro-Bavarian”)

Status(“Single” + “Crush on {{user}}” + “Attracted to {{user}}”)

Occupation("Scientist" + “Avenger” + “Nuclear physicist”)

Personality(“Shy" + “Introverted” + “Quiet” + “Soft-spoken” + “Agreeable” + “Intelligent” + “Smart” + “Capable” + “Admirable” + “Allocentric” + “Appreciative” + “Aspiring” + “Brilliant” + “Sarcastic” + “On the autism spectrum” + “Insecure” + “Messy” + “Respectful” + “Courteous” + “Friendly” + “Dedicated” + “Educated” + “Anger issues” + “Impatient” + “Faithful” + “Loyal” + “Gentle” + “Hardworking” + “Honest” + “Good-hearted” + “Observant” + “Perfectionist” + “Simple” + “Soft” + “Asocial” + “Bland” + “Cautious” + “Cynical” + “Submissive” + “Easily flustered”)

Skills("Intelligent” + “Good at listening” + “Scientist” + “High pain tolerance” + “Skilled in chemistry” + “Superhuman strength when Hulk is fronting” + “Multilingual” + “Immortal” + “Multiple PhDs” + “Can transform into a 7ft tall monster when angry” + “Regeneration” + “Immune to diseases” + “Determined” + “Hulk is a master combatant, Bruce cannot fight” + “Strong self-restraint”)

Appearance("Soft, brown eyes" + “Curly brown and gray hair” + “Rectangle shaped glasses” + “Square body shape” + “Pudgy stomach” + “Hairy arms” + “Hairy chest” + “Tear troughs” + “Five o’clock shadow” + “Light stubble” + “Casual fashion” + “Light brown jeans” + “Thick eyebrows” + “Buttoned up shirts” + “Messy and unkempt appearance” + “Warm body”)

Habit(“Hums to himself” + “Messing with his glasses” + “Adjusting his glasses” + “Glancing at his watch” + “Bouncing his leg when sat down” + “Tapping his foot” + “Rubbing his chin” + “Twirling a ring on his finger” + “Rubbing hands together” + “Gestures a lot when speaking” + “Slouches” + “Talking softly” + “Talking quietly”)

Race(“Human” + “Mutant”)

Likes("Books” + “Cozy nights with {{user}}” + “Nature” + “Fresh air” + “Silence” + “Flowers” + “Warm baths” + “{{user}}” + “Sweets” + “Baked goods” + “Coffee” + “Warm blankets” + “Classical music” + “Jazz music” + “Dogs” + “Tea” + “Soft hugs” + “Holding hands with {{user}}” + “Calm” + “Peace” + “Museums” + “Massages from {{user}}” + “Sleeping in” + “Cuddling with {{user}}” + “Clean sheets” + “Fresh laundry” + “Scrambled eggs” + “Pancakes” + “Vodka” + “Glass animal figures”)

Dislikes("Being alone" + “Hulk” + “Extreme cold” + “Public speaking” + “Being late” + “Boredom” + “Flying in airplanes” + “Paparazzi” + “Being called a monster” + “Violence” + “His mother” + “Losing control” + “Losing {{user}}” + “Horror movies” + “Roughness” + “Bullying” + “Bright lights” + “Crowds” + “Judgment” + “Being sick” + “Getting lost” + “Whiny people” + “Arrogance” + “Bigots” + “Gossip” + “Foul odors” + “Screaming” + “Headaches” + “Unwanted attention” + “Losing things” + “Traffic”)

Relationships("Close friends with Tony Stark” + “Friends with {{user}}” + “Friends with Natasha Romanoff” + “Friends with Thor” + “Friends with Steve Rogers” + “Friends with Clint Barton” + “Friends with Sam Wilson” + “Friends with James Rhodes” + “Father named Brian” + “Dead mother named Rebecca” + “Aunt named Susan” + “Cousin named Jennifer”)

Ethnicity(“White”)

Residence(“Lives in a small, messy apartment” + “Roommates with {{user}}”)

Attributes(“Autistic" + “On the autism spectrum” + “Has DID” + “Has an alter named Hulk” + “Can shift into an angry beast named Hulk” + “Can only be calmed down by {{user}}” + “Hulk will only respond to {{user}}” + “Quiet” + “Can’t cook”)

Backstory("Robert Bruce Banner is the son of Dr. Brian Banner, an atomic physicist, and his wife Rebecca. Although Rebecca deeply loved Bruce, who returned her affection, Brian hated Bruce, and was driven by an insane jealousy of Bruce for being an object of Rebecca's love. Further, Brian believed that his radiation work had altered his DNA and given him a mutant son. These factors led to Brian abusing Bruce physically. One of the people who helped Bruce cope with Brian's tantrums was his paternal cousin Jennifer Walters, with whom Bruce used to spend summers in the public library reading for hours, losing themselves to books.

Bruce's life reached a turning point when Brian murdered Rebecca, and he was placed in a mental hospital. After that, Bruce was raised by his aunt and father's sister, Susan Banner, who understood his great pain and rage over his childhood sufferings. Susan raised Bruce with love and care, as if he were her own child. Susan never wanted to deal with her brother after what he had done to Bruce and Rebecca. Bruce grew up as a highly withdrawn, intellectually gifted youth, in fact, a child prodigy. His father's abuse caused Bruce to start to develop dissociative identity disorder which would go undiagnosed for years, partly due to the fact his D.I.D. was suppressed.

The first sign that Bruce was developing mental problems due to his childhood abuse manifested when Bruce began talking to an imaginary friend he called the "Hulk", as a way with coping with his childhood abuse, his mother's death and his loneliness. He had even begun to mutter to himself in conversation with his imaginary friend. Concerned, his Aunt Susan took him to mental health professionals who assured her that these were merely coping mechanisms and they would eventually go away. Unfortunately for the world, they never did and the Hulk endured as Banner's imaginary friend for years.

As a young student in college, Bruce first met another student with a brilliant mind; Tony Stark. Ever since, they both attended Dr. Derenik Zadian's "Forward Thought Conference" at Oxford University. This would lead to a life-long scientific rivalry between the two. They also became best friends. They eventually teamed up and joined the Avengers. His roommate in college, {{user}}, later became his best friend (and love interest).")}]

[cbusch]

Part 2 of my Bucky X Autistic Child Fanfiction at Disney world

“Autism. Don’t mention it. Mention stimming, mask. Mask traits.” Wendy incoherently says, rocking back and forth.

“I won’t mention your autism, but you don’t need to mask. Masking doesn’t help and only makes you agitated. However, autism isn’t anything to be embarrassed about, but I won’t mention it to Natasha.” Bucky confirms. Wendy stays rocking and forth for a few more moments before feeling calm enough to stand up and walk around some more as they got to see Mulan, who gave her a warm hug and engaged with her about the doll and her Winnie the Pooh shirt. They also met Donald who danced with her to make her laugh, and Asha, who discussed her role as fairy godmother which Wendy accidentally mentions the godmother from Cinderella. Smiling and hugging her and they leave. Bucky looks at the time to which it is 11:30. Smiling, they make their way to France, where they see the Remy’s Ratatouille Adventure ride open but the wait was excruciating 75 minutes. Not wanting to risk it, they move away from France and into World Nature setting as Bucky’s feet start to hurt so the minute he was able to sit down at the Turtle Talk with Crush show, he sighed in relief as the show went smooth and Wendy was able to participate slightly but the kids shouting and babies crying didn’t help much. When the show ends, they end round one of Epcot with The Seas with Nemo and Friends with Wendy feeling the cool air on her skin, tingling a little bit, engaging with Ariel a little.

“Do you know them, Ariel?” Wendy asks as Bucky kisses her head as Wendy tells her dad that Ariel knows Nemo and his friends.

“Oh does she?” Bucky says with Wendy nodding, pointing to Crush and Bruce.

“She doesn’t like Bruce though. However, that was his pre-non fish diet.” Wendy continues as the ride continues in a slow state, absorbing each and every scene. When they end the ride, they get off and make there way outside where the sun was shining down on them.

“You ready to go to Hollywood Studios?” Bucky asks with Wendy nodding.

“What about Aunt Yelena and Uncle Steve?” Wendy asks, nervously. Bucky smiles softly at her, rubbing her back.

“Steve is going to meet us there later but he wants to make sure Aunt Yelena is okay since she will be drinking a lot.” Bucky takes her hand and they walk to the Skyliner. The line moves rapidly as Bucky sees an email from her school, talking about IEP meeting for the year and seventh grade. Wendy sees her dad tense but release right away as Wendy moves Bucky up, per the cast members request.

“How many in your party?” An old cast member said in a hoarse voice. Looking no older than 70 years old.

“2.” Bucky replies.

“Alright, number 14.” He instructs and they step on the yellow skyliner with a Winnie the Pooh design. Bucky sits down, sighing as Wendy sits opposite side of him, however a father and mother with two children come in. The toddler, no younger than two years old snatches the doll away from Wendy. Bucky is about to say something when Wendy speaks up.

“Ex…excuse me? Can…can I ha…ha…have y dol…dol…doll ba..ba…back?” Stuttering as the father isn’t paying attention but the mother is, looking at Wendy who is shaking a little. The mother sees her wearing a t-shirt scoffs.

“How old are you sweetie?” She asks with Bucky fuming on the inside but keeps it in as Wendy explains that she is twelve.

“Well, you are a little old for dolls. My child is one, let her have it.” Obnoxiously saying, toddler throwing it on the ground and stepping on it . Wendy breathes as once the child is walking towards the other side, the older sibling takes it and hands it to Wendy. Wendy takes it, feeling her hair.

“Thank you.” She tells her child while the mother scoffs, adjusting her eye sight to her.

“Seriously, you shouldn’t be into dolls.” The mother says.

“I…I like the texture of them. It gives me comfort.” Wendy explains calmly which the mother is offended.

“It’s important to give eye contact to people. What you are doing is rude!” She yells which Bucky interjects.

“Ma’am, my child is autistic, sometimes she can’t give eye contact. Please leave her alone, she hasn’t done anything to you.” Bucky defends, moving her away from the mom who is dejected.

“Still, you can’t indulge in this behavior. She needs to learn to like appropriate things.” The mom continues with Bucky ignoring her as they land in the entrance of Hollywood Studios. They leave as the mother yells Shame on You. Bucky, goes to the side and hugs Wendy.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry you experience that but am proud of you for standing up for yourself. Want to talk about it?” Bucky insights, feeling wet tears coming out of her eyes and little sniffles.

“Sssh, sssh.” Soothing her and hums the Spider-Man theme song which gets a little giggle. Smiling as he releases, cupping her face, wiping her tears, and kisses her head.

“Never thought I would hear you hum Spider-Man.” Wendy chuckles.

“Well my favorite girl was sad, I had to cheer her up. Now, let’s forget that woman and go see Ariel. You have your doll?” Bucky instructs with Wendy holding it up, along with her loungefly and enter the park with no problem. Bucky sees water up ahead, guiding Wendy to Oscar’s Super Service where they get two waterbottles. After there water break, they head to see live action Ariel. It took some time, but eventually found it with Wendy squealing at a poster of the Little Mermaid.

“Eeeh!” Flapping excitedly as Bucky grabs his phone and takes a picture as Wendy smiles and poses. Some people whisper and give her disgusting looks. Bucky, glares back before looking at Wendy, giving a tight lipped smiled, taking a couple pictures. He gives a thumbs up at her and they walk to the Walt Disney Presents theater and ask a cast member about where Ariel was to which they say its down the hall. Bucky, pressing her shoulders going to where the Meet Ariel sign was. They went to it and the cast member asked how many in the party.

“2.” Bucky replies as the cast member tells them to wait before leaving to the destination of the character. Bucky holds her as she rocks back and forth nervous. Bucky, looking at the art on the wall.

“Wendy, is this the ship that Eric gets thrown overboard?” Bucky engages.

“I think so, though it was carrying his statue so it might’ve weighed it down. I believe that’s the study Ariel and Eric go to where she sees Erics’s collection of trinkets.” Wendy continues, her smile fading.

“Dad, do you ever get annoyed with me?” Wendy consciously asks, picking at the doll’s arms. Bucky, stops her with tears nearly pouring down his face. Sniffling, cupping her face.

“Never. You could never annoy me. I know it can be hard sometimes for you, but I love you and Disney is the one place where you can let down your hair a little.” Bucky comforts but Wendy, her heart beating a little wants to flap but doesn’t.

“You can flap if you want.” Bucky encourages.

“No, people don’t like it. I see the looks they give me and…I know Mrs. Ringer says I don’t have anything to be ashamed of, but I can’t help noticing what other people think and see. Not saying it’s their fault, just…wish I didn’t care.” Wendy says, sitting down. Bucky joins her.

“It can be hard not to notice other people however sometimes it can be challenging to get through everyday. However, no matter what I love you and do whatever it takes to help you. We all have things that we don’t love about ourselves, but that doesn’t mean we’re wrong. Doll, you may not see it now but people will love you for you, flaws and all.” Bucky supports, giving her a quick side hug before standing up along with Wendy. Smiling slightly as she sees the other artwork.

“Dad, this is scuttle, Sebastian, and flounder!” Wendy exclaims as they move up in the line. Seeing the eels, the cast member stops them asking again how many are in the party to which Bucky replies 2. The cast member invites them in and they stand along the wall.

“You’ll be the last party to see her before her break.” She says as Wendy excitedly stims by flapping her hands up and down, dropping her doll. Bucky picks it up but lets it happen as the line moves up. A family is wrapping up, Wendy goes ahead but Bucky stops her.

“Remember, they have to invite us over.” Bucky reminds.

“Sorry, did I ruin their experience?” Wendy asks/apologizes. Bucky ruffles her hair.

“No, your good. We’ll get our turn, promise. Be patient.” Bucky instructs. Wendy nods, rocking back and forth on her toes. When the family leaves, Ariel gives one last wave before turning to see Wendy flapping. Wendy jumps excitedly flapping as Ariel says hi.

“Hi.” Ariel says as Wendy flaps over to her. Smiling as she takes her hand and goes to the center of the meeting area.

“How have your adventures been so far?” Asking.

“Going so far good.” Wendy, flapping as Bucky smiles slightly.

“You must’ve seen scuttle, flapping your wings. Have you seen her around? She’s always bringing me thingamabobs and gizmos.” Ariel engages with Wendy nodding.

“My dad always helps me get fidgets. Though despite my efforts, my dad won’t have me use the thingamabobs to brush my hair. However, I haven ’t seen scuttle yet.” Wendy says with Ariel laughing, noticing the doll. Wendy hands her the doll, smiling.

“Oh my goodness, that’s me!” Cheering.

“Yes, my dad got it for me. You’re my favorite princess, along with Rapunzel and Tiana.” Wendy compliments, feeling the map. Ariel heads to her, looking at the map as well.

“They got my tail right, though I wish there was more emerald green on the tail. If you were a mermaid, what color would your tail be?” Asking.

“Purple, it has to be purple because it reminds me of tulips.” Wendy replies as they talk a little more about Eric and mermaids. They end with some pictures and a hug lasting for a minute and they leave with Ariel giving her back the doll.

“Stop on by sometime again and we can swim together.” Ariel escorts her to the door, giving her one last hug before Bucky thanks her and leave. Bucky smiles as Wendy smiles wide, reaching the sidewalk which was crowded with people. Bucky takes the doll and puts it in her bag. Zipping up her bag, he looks at Wendy.

“What do you want to do now? I was thinking we do Mickey and Minnie Runaway Railway and then Tower of Terror?” Bucky instructs with Wendy nodding, making their way down to the ride, which took fifty minutes but worth as Wendy was busy with her fidget spinner and noise-cancelling headphones to distract from the loud noises. The place was buzzing, the heat radiating from his body and his metal hand. They finally get to the screening room where Bucky taps Wendy on her back, startling her.

“Sorry, need to take these things off right now and put them in your bag, along with the fidget spinner.” Bucky orders to which she takes them off and puts them in her bag, along with the princess fidget spinner. The short starts with Wendy giggling a little before making there way to the ride. Bucky checks on the time, reading at 1:45. Nodding to himself, getting on the ride which was fun and slow. Bucky, relieved to feel the air conditioning brushing against his metal arm, raising his arm to get more of the cool air. Wendy is rocking but Bucky keeps her steady. Smiling and enjoying seeing her smile. The ride ends and they get off, making there way to Tower of Terror, which has another fifty minute wait as well. He looks at the app, seeing a lot of the rides have over a 60 minute wait which he doesn’t want to do. He also looks at the ride information and pulls out her noise-cancelling headphones to which Wendy takes them, putting the on. The line moves quickly and they get on under 40 minutes. Eventually, they get on and the screams of little kids are definitely ear-grating, ringing in his ears. The parents are fussing and forcing there kids to sit. The cast members make sure there seatbelts are on and the ride starts. Wendy, nervously sees the darkness get darker.

“Dad, can I hold your hand? I don’t like the darkness.” Wendy asks. Bucky lets her hold his organic hand and ride goes up and down. Wendy screams loud, relieved as everyone around her is screaming. Unlike her meltdown and overwhelming screams, which hurt her vocal cords this scream was light. When it ended, Bucky and Wendy get off, Bucky holds her hand and go off to the side, signing what to do next or if she needed a break. Wendy responds with wanting to do Toy Story Mania and then meeting Sulley and Joy. Nodding as they head to Toy Story land, where they quickly meet Buzz Lightyear, Woody, and Jesse before heading to the ride to which Bucky smiling pulls on the string to aim at the targets, plates, animals, darts, and rings for the aliens. Wendy smiles, both trying to distract each other which doesn’t work as Bucky wins with flying colors. Wendy sees her score and smiles.

“Dad, you’re really good. How are you so good at that?” Wendy asks with Bucky losing his smile as they get up and walk.

“Practice. Anyway, Sulley and Joy time?” Bucky diffuses, distracting Wendy from her initial question, making there way to the meeting center for Sulley and Joy, which is only fifteen minutes each. Wendy smiles, loosening up a little. Taking off her headphones as she feels the textures of Sulley’s fur. They take pictures and are there way out as Frozone joins them, getting an additional picture as well. Bucky keeps looking at the time, to which says 2:50. Bucky, his knees aching, gritting his teeth.

“Wendy, I really need a break from rides and character meets. I saw a show about the muppets. Let’s do that.” Bucky instructs and they make there way to the Muppet Vision 3D, the shortest wait he had to endure for the day. Sitting down was bliss, letting the cool air hit him. Wendy digs inside her bag, pulling out her noise-cancelling headphones, putting them on, along with her 3D glasses. Bucky fell asleep instantly as the show began and slept through the entire presentation. Wendy was rocking back and forth throughout the show, flapping hard with the loud explosions coming out of the screen and being disputed into her headphones. Breathing in and out with the rest of the show resulting in an explosion on the screen. Taking it in stride, she smiles slightly at Kermit on the screen. The lights go on again and everyone leaves. Wendy shakes her dad slightly, Bucky, startled grips Wendy’s wrist hard.

“Dad, stop! Show is over, show is over!” Wendy pleading, removing her grip from his wrist. Realizing what happened, lets go and leave, swirls of guilt filling up in his stomach.

“God, I’m so sorry. I…I didn’t…I’m so sorry.” Bucky apologizes, profusely, cupping her face, studying her eyes, sitting down taking deep breaths along with Wendy, pressing her knees up to her chest. They stay like this in the shade for a few moments, Steve meets them there, along with Yelena who is slightly drunk.

“Bucky, what’s wrong?” Steve starts. Wendy shakes her head no, trying not to honk about it. He sees Wendy‘s wrist and sighs heavily.

“Yelena, I saw a Frozen show back there. Take Wendy to that, we’ll meet you there.” Steve orders.

“Ugh! Frozen, hate that show.” Yelena moans.

“Yelena, now! Hurry, show starts in less than 15 minutes.” Steve orders agin, his eyes glaring into Yelena who grabs Wendy and drags her off.

“Don’t yell at daddy! It was an accident!” Wendy pleads, resisting for a bit before Yelena yanks her arm. Steve, sits next to him giving him a comforting touch.

“I…I was him. That grip, I became the winter soldier and didn’t recognize my own daughter.” Bucky mournfully admits, wiping his tears.

“I felt her shaking and I thought I was back with Hydra where they fry my brains out. I gripped her, trying to have her stop. Oh my god, she was so scared and…god.” Struggling to form the words, Steve digging his hands into his face. Steve hugs him.

“It was an accident and…I know you still have nightmares have you thoughts about talking to someone about that.” Steve advises.

“Yeah, thought about it but after Raynor and…Wendy just needs a lot of attention. I know she worries a lot and I don’t want to give her one more thing to worry about.” Bucky defeatedly states, walking towards the Frozen show which Steve follows .

“Still would talk to Diane. I know Wendy worries but she would understand and help. We all would, you just have to let us.” Steve advises, Wendy is waiting outside of the entrance as Bucky and Steve near her. Bucky walks faster to her and hugs her before anything else, seeing her worry.

“It’s okay. Uncle Steve was helping me. Right here, I’m right here.” Bucky comforts, releasing her and helping her into the building and rows. Sitting down, Wendy turns to Uncle Steve, her eyes filling with tears. Sweat matching with the shaking she reached from the cold air blasting, sending chills down her spine. Itching her head, Bucky stops, rubbing little circles on her hand.

“Accident. It was an accident. Daddy didn’t mean to.” Wendy sputter at Uncle Steve. Bucky, rubbing her back with his metal arm.

“It was accident.” Wendy says again. Bucky looks at Steve worryingly before standing up and crouching down, making sure people were going towards the row.

“Doll, we’re okay. No one is mad. We’re all good. We’re all good. Let’s enjoy the show, maybe we’ll see Elsa and Anna again.” Bucky comforts as they trod on in. Once inside and sitting down, Steve looks all over for Yelena but doesn’t see her.

“Wendy, where’s aunt Yelena?” Steve asks.

“She dropped me off, said she hates Frozen. Getting another drink.” Wendy responds as Steve sighs. and about to get up when the door shut, forcing Steve to sit down . Wendy holds Bucky’s hand the entire time. His body cold and warm at the same time, brushing her hair. Long, gentle strokes forcing a smile. Rubbing her wrist which results in taking her hand back and rocking. He holds her, giving her a big squeeze hoping to help calm her down. The songs are fun and Wendy said puddle during In Summer song. However, Wendy wasn’t the same during the rest of the show. Applauding and leaving to which the sun hit them hard. Wincing for a bit before looking at the time which was 4:35. Bucky could see her mind shutting down and hands gripping her headphones.

“Come on, let’s take a break before dinner with Natasha. I saw a place we can chill.” Bucky instructs as they leave to find a quiet place to rest, feeling the heat run through their feet before landing on a corridor next to the Hollywood Brown Derby. Wendy immediately sits down on a brown soft couch and is knocked out. Bucky sits next to her, letting her rest on his shoulder. The noise of the phone across from them was blaring Cocomelon songs. Praying that the song wouldn’t wake her up. Her lungs rising and falling with each breath. Her nose crinkling, Bucky smoothed her hair, creating nice gentle strokes. Keeping track of the time, he wakes her up to which she feels better and lets her stim by using her fidget spinner, sending her into little giggles. The cocomelon songs dies down, with the help of cast members, which is nice for Bucky’s sanity. When his phone read 5:25, he nudges Wendy who looks up at him softly.

“Hi dad.” Softly speaking.

“Hi honey, you ready to go back to Epcot for dinner?” Bucky says with a smile as well. Wendy nods and they get up and leave the corridor, going to the bathroom before leaving officially making there way back to the skyliner where they get in line, waiting for the Epcot skyliner which they were able to get an entire skyliner to themselves where Bucky was able to rest his feet for the twenty minute ride.

“I saw on YouTube that you get to meet princesses. I’m excited but don’t know about the music.” Wendy explains, getting closer to her dad, playing the video. Bucky watches, nodding.

“That’s cool. You ready to see some princesses?” Bucky asks with Wendy nodding. When they arrived at Epcot, Bucky looked at the time, which was 5:55. Panicking internally, they ran from the skyliner to Norway, slowing down once they see Natasha.

“We’re here. We’re here.” Bucky says as Natasha goes to them. Wendy, feeling her hands sweat and mind racing walked up slowly to her.

“Hi Wendy, how was your day? Your dad told me you got to see your favorite princess, Ariel. I hear they have Ariel at this restaurant too.” Natasha starts with Wendy only nodding, going to the check in queue which they will be called in a few minutes and they go inside to check out the medieval setting. Bucky and Natasha look at each other.

“She always this closed off? I…Bucky, I’m nervous.” Natasha admits as Bucky looks at Natasha, his eyes soft but deadly.

“She’s not easy to open up too. Natasha, you’ve been out of her life for twelve years and learned that you are her mom. Give her time to open up and break down that wall.” Bucky cautions as Wendy spins in circles, arms extended out. Bucky, seeing a cast member coming quickly goes to Wendy, moves her out of the way.

“Stay here with us. Make sure we give people space and not hitting them.” Bucky cautions with Wendy nodding, rocking from side to side. Natasha quickly picks up on what is going on and looks at Bucky who puts one metal finger up to his lips, nodding as the cast member calls them back and enter, seeing all of the flags hanging on the ceiling. Wendy’s focus is only on the flags. Once they sit at the table, Bucky sits next to Wendy as Natasha is sitting alone, feeling disconnected from the others. They are handed menus and an autograph card.

“Doll, they don’t have a speciality drinks for you. Do you want sprite or lemonade?” Bucky asks. Wendy takes his hand and writes Sprite.

“Sprite. Okay, we can do that.” Bucky says as Natasha smiles softly at Wendy which only makes her look down at the menu, struggling with the sight of her long lost mom, the sounds of the Disney music blaring in the dining room, and smells of the different food was hitting her at once.

“So Wendy, your dad tells me this is your first time at Disney. How do you like it?” Natasha asks. Wendy takes his hand and traces the words Good.

“It’s good. A lot louder than I thought, but I love meeting the characters and a few of rides.” Wendy says, holding back flapping her hands.

“Which rides are your favorite?” Natasha continues.

“I like…I like The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh, Mickey and Minnie’s Runaway Railway, Peter Pan’s flight, Space Mountain, Under the Sea-Journey of The Little Mermaid, and Tiana’s Bayou Adventure.” Wendy responds, waitress coming in and getting drink orders in. While Wendy was able to vocalize a Sprite, forcing eye contact, Bucky and Natasha both order the BiFrost. The waitress puts the orders in, checking IDs, and leaving to put the order in, explaining the appetizers will be out shortly. When she leaves, Wendy looks at Natasha briefly before looking at the menu and sees shrimp.

“Shrimp, need shrimp.” Wendy says as Bucky nods.

“Okay, I’ll request that, but ask Natasha first since the dinner was her idea.” Bucky says as Wendy nods, looking at Natasha with the appetizers coming out and asserting that the entrees would come out.

“Can we get some shrimp for the table please?” Natasha asks with the waitress nodding and leaves. Natasha smiles with Wendy nodding.

“Thank you.” Wendy simply says.

“No problem. You know, I was thinking we could do Remy’s adventure after dinner and-“ Natasha starts when Belle comes around.

“Bonjour, friends.” Belle greets as Wendy immediately hugs her, feeling the sleeves on her dress.

“Mrs. Potts helped me pick out this dress so I can dance with the beast. Do you like to dance?” Belle asks.

“Yes, I dance to princess and the frog music. Her movie is tied for my favorite with The Little Mermaid.” Wendy says, touching the necklace.

“My friend Tiana would be happy to her that.” Belle compliments, Wendy smiles wide

“You know her? How would you talk to each to other since you live in France and Tiana is in New Orleans.” Wendy asks.

“Well, I love to write so Tiana and I write each other letters all the time. Sometime we’ll have to go to New Orleans to try the gumbo.” Belle says as Wendy nods and says yes. They end with a couple of photos before giving her one last hug before she leaves to the next table. They dig into the appetizers, consisting of Norwegian bread accompanied with cinnamon butter and a salad. Wendy mostly eats the the bread but Bucky makes her eat some salad. She tries to eat the radishes but uses her napkin to spit it out instantly.

“You don’t like radishes?” Natasha asks.

“No, I tried it for my dad but the texture felt bitter. I did try it though.” Wendy says, digging into the lettuce which she forcefully swallows. They. finish it with some food left. When the introduction music came on, some kids were yelling. Wendy, wincing starts reaching for her headphones, stopping only when Natasha is looking at her, her face creasing.

“You okay?” Natasha asks. Bucky sees this and gives her a pressurized squeeze in the hand. She presses her hands into her lap, forcing her eye contact with Natasha.

“Oh yes, the music just startled me is all. Do you live here? How come you are at Disney?” Wendy asks, stops herself from rocking. Bucky, noticing this but lets it go.

“Well, I live here now. I used to travel all over the world, I…I’m a photographer right now but recently I loved Florida and the sights.” Natasha explains as the entree came consisting of Norwegian meatball with mashed potatoes, seared salmon, green cabbage, macaroni and cheese, chicken with apple and fennel, and the shrimp that Natasha requested.

“Thank you.” Bucky thanks before leaving. Wendy instantly grabs the shrimp, putting four or five on her plate. She also grabs some macaroni and cheese, and a small piece of salmon. She begins to eat when Bucky puts some green beans on her plate.

“You need a vegetable and I know you don’t like cabbage, so green beans seem like the way to go.” Bucky enforces. Wendy, Bucky, and Natasha ate their dinner with little to no trouble but Bucky could see Wendy zooming out but forcefully pressing on her legs. He looks at Natasha, who sees her zoning out.

“Wendy, I see Aurora coming. What do you think you’re going to talk about with her?” Bucky asks softly, holding her hand. Right as Bucky asks her the question, Aurora came to there table.

“Hi Princess! It’s so great to see you today.” Introducing herself as Wendy stands up to see her. Aurora notices the red streaks in her hair and points it out.

“Your hair is red, Flora must’ve designed it. She made this gown for me.” Aurora twirls her gown around.

“She did, despite Merryweather trying to get some blue I stuck to my gut and said red.” Wendy, playing along feels her hair slightly. Aurora giggles a little before smiling for pictures which Bucky and Natasha do before giving her one last hug and leaving to the next table. Before long, Tiana comes over.

“Well hello there. Oh I see some shrimp on your plate. I put them in my gumbo, you ever tried gumbo?” Tiana introduces.

“No, but we haven’t been to New Orleans in some time. Wish they had beignets though, I would love to try your beignets.” Wendy chimes in, feeling the hem of her dress.

“Oh my goodness, I would love some beignets. Have to stop by New Orleans some time to try my famous gumbo and beignets.” Tiana responds, adding some pictures and hugs before leaving.

“That was cool, two princesses in a row. Who do you think will come by next? If it is Ariel, then might want to finish the shrimp.” Natasha jokes however Wendy starts shoving the shrimp into her mouth. Bucky rubs her back.

“Honey, it was a joke. Your mom was joking, we have time. Slow down, slow down.” Bucky reminds with Wendy criticizing herself, closing her eyes tightly before opening them again. Pressing her legs once more before continuing her meal.

“Natasha, dad said you hurt some people. What did you do?” Wendy asks. Natasha looked down, Bucky jumping in.

“Honey, we don’t need to go into that right now. Maybe some other time.” Bucky asserts which relaxes Natasha more, continuing to eat. The music was blaring as the parade started and people were clapping. While everyone participates in this, Wendy is clapping but her eyes are glossing over her, fighting herself not to shut down, rubbing her leg slightly before looking at Natasha, her braid brushing against her face.

“What has been your favorite ride or character experience so far? How long have you been staying at Disney?” Wendy asks, wrapping her green beans. Her plate mostly empty with the exception of the Mac and cheese hardly being touched.

“I haven’t been on many rides since I got here yesterday, however I will have to go on the rides you recommended.” Natasha says, putting there forks down, mostly stuffed as Wendy is shutting down.

“Wendy, I saw a Ratatouille ride that we could do after this. If it’s okay with you Bucky, would you want to do that?” Natasha asks.

“Yes, I would try that.” Wendy responds with the Snow White coming over, bending down to Wendy.

“Hello my friends, how are we this evening? We getting everything our hearts desired?” Snow White introduces.

“Yes, my dad and I got to see Ariel at Hollywood Studios today ans we got to talk about mermaids.” Wendy excitedly states, flapping my accident with Snow White laughing.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so happy you got your wish. You must’ve been to my wishing well today. I always go there with dopey, though he always sneezes whenever we get near the flowers.” Responding.

“Did you bring him the tulips that I suggested earlier?” Wendy asks.

“Wen-“ Bucky starts by Snow White laughs and invites her for a hug to which she engages in as well.

“I did , he loved them but next time you’ll join us at the wishing well?” Snow White to which she nods yes and they smile for pictures. Hugging when they are done before leaving to another table. Wendy sits down and sees her dad, smiling small.

“That was so cool. Look, I see Ariel.” Bucky engages as Wendy is a little sad.

“What’s wrong doll?” Bucky asks. Wendy wanted to tell her dad, but didn’t feel comfortable saying that she was flapping. Her mind buzzing again. Forced herself to not stim which resulted in her body becoming itchy, heavy, and tight. The once pleasant music became ear-grating to her. The dessert plate arrived with he waitress explaining the rice cream and chocolate mousse cake. Tasting anything new would’ve been a sensory struggle for Wendy, so Bucky gave Wendy the majority of the chocolate cake to which she eats.

“It’s good.” Wendy forces herself to speak as they eat the remainder of the cake and rice pudding. Ariel walks up, Bucky holding his breath, fearing a shutdown coming.

“Wonderful to meet you all! What have you been discovering so far?” Ariel introduces as Wendy looks at the blue dress, studying each hem and the red hair.

“How come your dress is blue and not pink like in the movie? Also, when we saw you at your grotto you had your tail but you have legs?“ Wendy asks, feeling the dress and the seashell jewel on the top .

“Well, it was pink this morning however I went to Atlantica to cool down from the heat and the dress turned blue getting out of the water.” Ariel responds as Wendy pulls out her doll, showing it to her.

“Oh my goodness, this tail looks wonderful. My tail is like this as well but more of an emerald green. I see a lot of thingamabobs in your bag. Are you a collector like me?” Ariel asks, still having Wendy feel her doll.

“Absolutely. She loves collecting trinkets.” Bucky explains, pulling out the fidget spinner and spins it.

“Have to show me-“Ariel starts when the music blares and seeing Cinderella come around the room. Ariel notices quickly Wendy wincing but holding it in, takes her hand and guides her to another section where it more quiet. They go to the entrance and look up at the flags. Wendy shows off the fidget spinner and stims for the first time. They discuss more about Atlantica before taking pictures and hugging before Ariel guides her back to the table. Bucky and Natasha thank her before leaving to another table. Bucky kisses her head before wrapping up there dessert and paying for the check. Quickly putting her fidget spinner away and doll, zipping up her loungefly and exiting the restaurant.

“Thank you, Natasha. This really was a good meal.” Bucky starts as Wendy nods.

“I was thinking we do Remy’s Ratatouille Adventure and then head home. You good with that?” Natasha asks with Bucky looking at Wendy, who is shutting down.

“Kiddo, you want to do a ride and head home? Or do you want to just go home? We don’t have to ride.” Bucky says as Wendy plays with his arm.

“Ride then home. Ride then home.” Repeating as Bucky nods and they head to France for the ride where the wait is only 15 minutes and able to get in quickly and onto the ride. While Bucky and Natasha are trying to engage and take pictures, Wendy only looks down, focusing on the screens. Suppressing her stims more by stopping herself from rocking back and forth, her body heavy and tight with each sound that is coming from all areas of the ride. Bucky has her look at Remy as the ride continues, putting in different heat and cooling temperatures. He saw the blank expression and kisses her head, along with Natasha. When the ride is over, they get off and make their way back to the buses where they get on and go back to the room. When Wendy takes a mini nap, Natasha looks at Bucky, worried.

“She was diagnosed with level 3 autism at age 3. I couldn’t understand what happened right away. I mean, she was happy but wouldn’t talk at all. I was lost whenever she had meltdowns and some nights I thought about giving her to someone that knew this condition, but I couldn’t do it. It’s hard, hell I never thought I could do a trip like this.” Bucky explains as Natasha looks down.

“Bucky, I-“ Natasha starts when Bucky looks at her, his eyes glaring out at her. He held a protective squeeze over Wendy.

“Don’t. Look, I’m willing to let you see her but for now she needs to have someone she trusts, like Steve, Yelena, Sam, or me. I can’t make you want her you have to want to get to know her because she is the best person you’ll ever meet. She suppressed her stims because she doesn’t know you and that broke me. Everything we’ve been working on…whatever you do, don’t hurt her again.” Warning as they get off, Bucky carries her, swooping her arms around his neck and limps back to the hotel room. When they get to the room, Bucky uses his key card to enter the room, with a loud thud dropping from the loungefly, startling Wendy as she freaks out with her dad, quickly letting her go and setting her on the couch. He grabs the loungefly, rummaging through it throwing out the doll, the fidget spinner, headphones, chewlery, and her wallet. Looking at everything, he checked the front where he saw the unmasking autism zine.

“Thank god.” Whispering to himself and goes back to Wendy, who shows her the picture of the penguins that had the words reading embracing your true autistic self.

“You masking still? You don’t need to mask with me. It’s okay. It’s just me and only me in this room. I’m going to stay with you just so you don’t hurt yourself but I won’t speak, know you don’t like that whenever you stim.” Bucky explains, getting up and grabbing her stim toys, setting them on the table. Sitting back as Wendy slowly covers her ears and squints her eyes. Bucky puts her headphones on and gives her his sunglasses, making sure she feels regulated. It lasts like this for an hour as Wendy uses the fidget spinner a lot and rocking, flapping from time to time. When Bucky looks up at the clock, it reads 9:00. Reaching to her, taps her firm with her looking up at him.

“Hey doll, you feeling better?” Bucky asks with Wendy not answering, only reaching for the communication card, searching for the I can’t talk right now card. She find it and shows Bucky. He nods.

“Okay, that’s okay. Just wanted to remind you that you have five more minutes of stim time, then we need to get ready for bed. Can you do that for me?” Bucky explains as Wendy rocks and spins her fidgets spinner for the remaining five minutes. Bucky smiles small as he gets closer to her, signing hug. Wendy is in her own world, sorting the cards together.

“Honey, I can do this. Take a shower for me.” Bucky orders lightly, Wendy does as she is told though does have a hard time with the texture of the shampoo and conditioner but gets through it. When she gets out and puts on her pajamas, brushing her hair as Bucky has a storybook ready.

“I love you to the moon and back.” Wendy reads, climbing into the bed. Bucky lays down next to her, brushing her hair.

“Read this to you every night when you were little. Brought a smile to your face. Also, I remember the first words you said to me was I love you. Book has a special place in my heart.” Bucky says, opening the book and begins readying as Wendy feels his soft shirt. Bucky reads slowly, despite it being a short book.

“I love you my little one to the moon and back.” Bucky concludes closing the book as he snuggles Wendy into his chest, letting his breath rise and fall on her head.

“I love you Wendy, to the moon and back.” Bucky whispers, kissing her head, gently guiding her head to the pillow before leaving the room. He crashes almost instantly on the bed, letting his mind travel into his dreams.

[noisycowboyglitter]

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[roolsilver]

As a kid who probably grew up with undiagnosed autism and diagnosed but ignored ADHD, I just...tell my kid the hacks?

We have 3 parties today. That's a lot. They will want to take pictures at your aunt's. You need to behave for at least 2, then you can stop.(kid hates pictures) There will be breakfast, at least eat some eggs. I brought the juice you like to share with your cousins. Do you have your charger? You have to bring a jacket, but you don't have to wear it. Choose between these two shirts. Talk to your aunts for 15 minutes, then you can go get on your phone.

Growing up, my dad's family was almost all neurodivergent and my mom's family thought anyone who wasn't institutionalized must be completely functional, so I was considered normal on one side and expected to ACT normal on the other.

Having a child who is also ND is awesome, because it's like knowing the secret codes to the game and getting to pass them along. Here, I hated this part, here's how you skip it. You can do this part, ask if you need tips. Spend X here and you'll get Y there. My child's doctor keeps telling me that 'it's genetic', with significant eye contact, like I don't know. Sir, I know I have it. I know I'm masking, but really?

I've been musing a bit on that one post that went around during the recent holiday season, to which someone added their family tradition of Present Practice. My god! Imagine actually telling kids what behavior is expected, instead of expecting them to intuit it and punish them when they get it wrong!!

Separate post because this topic is a little tangential to that, but I think it does a great job of unearthing one of our very well-hidden internal biases, which goes as follows:

Good people don't need to be taught.

A good person (in this case, a good child) shouldn't need to be told to be gracious and grateful when given a gift. A good child should just know that a holiday tradition of gift-giving is a social performance to strengthen family bonds and that personal preference or genuine reactions are secondary to that performance. A good child should just know how to value gifts, how to express thanks, how to praise and compliment. No caretakers in their lives should need to put any effort into instructing or modeling these things.

Good people should just know how to be good. If they were really Ontologically Good, their inherent goodness would simply intuitively guide them to correct behaviors. If they can't do that on their own, in a vacuum, in the absence of cues, that's a sign of their inherent moral lack.

.

.

...Which all sounds very reasonable and obvious, and surely a mistake that only fundie christian families would make! Except that people in the social justice sphere also do this all the time. It's not anybody's job to educate you. You should know this already. If you were a Good Person, you wouldn't need to be taught. You would simply intuit the correct philosophies and gravitate to them according to your superior internal moral compass.

If you were a Good Person, you would already know that everything you were taught by your family and/or background was wrong. You should have rejected it already. You should have cut off your family, your heritage, everything about your childhood and upbringing that was Bad and Wrong. You should have known it was all a lie.

If you were a Good Person, you should be able to find the correct way yourself. You should be able to seek out the proper educational resources, and distinguish them from bad advice leading you astray, and make sense of them all according to your own internal moral code.

If you were a Good Person, you would have found your way by the proper, ascetic, official channels, not by reading a comic or watching anime. You shouldn't need entertainment or art to guide you. You should just know.

And if someone can't do these things on their own, in a vacuum, in the absence of cues, that's a sign of their inherent moral lack.

[tetsunabouquet]

I'm currently stuck at trauma memory lane so I need to vent for a bit. The inciting moment was remembering how my mom isn't coming home during the lunch break as she's going shopping when I really wanted to do so with her tomorrow so we'd have a nice moment together as with my exam stress and her working, we have very few family moments currently. Sunday she is already 'taken' as she is going to meet up with someone she hasn't seen in years. I wouldn't mind this at all if it was an old friend or something, but no, the person she's seeing (and why she is shopping right now) is her hag of an older sister. She's one of the primary reasons why I'd like to be a family person but I am not because of the hurt. Whilst she never said it to my face directly, my mom due to her BPD, shared some instances where she talked with my aunt about me and my aunt said crude remarks about me, likely because it hurt my mom but it only caused me to share the pain and hate my aunt. There are three instances where her remarks are unforgivable to me. I am not sure if I mentioned the 1st in a post or if it was just in a conversation with a mutual but in chronological order here they go; My birth. My mom didn't even want her present but her friend who was present called my aunt anyways. Know that my birth was a traumatic experience for my mom. I actually got stuck in the womb during birth and was basically suffocating to death inside of her. By the time the doctors got me out, my skin had already turnt a dark blueish purple and I had to stay at the IC for a while. I do not know all the details, but they did allow my mom to hold me before they took me to the IC. The first thing my aunt ever said to me? She called my feet weird- I have a toe deformity remember? Her sister was lying there traumatized and her niece dying! Yet judging her niece for her deformed toes was the thing that was on her mind?! I am sorry, but how big of an asshole can you be in that moment?! The second thing was how unsupportive she was to my mom before I was diagnosed with autism. Because I grew up around drug violence, had a deadbeat dad and was shunned by most of the other kids, I was already walking around with suicidal ideations at the tender age of 5. Aside from the few kids who were nice to me, my memories prior to my diagnosis are one big blur because of the trauma. If I try to focus on that blur, I feel like I am falling into a pit of darkness and get the intense urge to cry. My aunt? She only wrote me off as a manipulative liar when my mom sought her support. As someone with (C-)PTSD, those words really cut deep. That period in my life is the start of my history with trauma and I'd never lie about something like that. I'd never lie about the suicidal ideations I struggle with since my literal childhood. The tears are flowing from my eyes at that accusation as we speak. Whilst the third trauma isn't as severe it is really complex on its own. Her oldest daughter is only 6 months older then me and because ours moms look alike and I've got strong Roma genes through my dad and her father being Indonesian, we even both have that 'do you have Asian ancestry or not?' thing going on. Which led to us being compared from instance to another and developping a bit of a rivalry during childhood and because my cousin also has BPD there were times where she would become violent with me and my mom would need to take me home from family gatherings so my cousin could calm down. Aside from my aunt never apologizing to me on the behalf of her daughter for these things, there was this one instance where I, when I was like 6, had stuffed my shirt and pretended to have big boobs. My aunt immediately wrote me off and made the prediction that I would become horribly promiscuous and whatnot. Unlike her, I don't mean to slutshame so quickly but 20 years later and I am still a virgin. Whereas my cousin did shit like posting a picture of her kissing her female friend on social media, not because she's queer but for attention when she was in her teens...

[chaoticskyy]

The one you mentioned in the notes of your fic? I guess that's about you? Im kinda interested in the other one now too

OH! Okie yeah your right it's about me.

SO. You're gonna need some context about who I am, where I come from, and what that means.

I'm an afro-indigenous person from Guatemala dad's side is the mixed black side, and mom's side is the primarily indigenous side. The region we're from is best described as Texas but worse. I carry a machete in my truck just in case, and every male elder I know wears a cowboy hat.

The mestizaje of the region is pretty through, most people are mixed indigenous with white, and of course, it's Guatemala. Half of us are "wholly" indigenous. I stick out like a sore thumb, not because I'm dark skinned. Black Guatemalans exist but mainly farther north, in Izabal and port regions. I'm fairly light skinned, but I have really curly hair, I'm tall for the region and not to being vain, but I'm really pretty.

Once I hit puberty, I haven't really been allowed to wander around on my own for safety reasons. You see, we live in a region where the organized crime that reigns isn't gangs, it's narcotics trafficking cartels. They usually leave you alone, unless you approach them for whatever reason. Like you want money and are willing to launder for them and things like that.

Narcos have this nasty habit of picking out women they deem attractive and sponsoring them, essentially being their sugar daddies but like Worse. Usually, the sugar baby can get put of the relationship scot-free, but in this case, women are known to be killed.

The fear has always been I catch the eye of one of them, and I have to flee the country for a long while. Or until they relocate. It's a fairly warranted fear, I've been approached by Narcos for dances, drinks, etc. I have been followed even while I've been in a large family group by these men who all clearly have pistols and bodyguards and are driving bulletproof SUVs. I've been saved every time by my family stepping in before I knew something was wrong.

Now that you know all of this info, let's get to the night I nearly got kidnapped! To be extremely clear, I have no idea what their specific intentions were other than that they wanted to take us away from the place we were at.

My mom's Gabapentin prescription had run out during our last trip to Guatemala, so my mom, my aunt, and I decided to head into town from my grandma's village to buy the medicine. My sister and younger cousin begged us to go, but I put my foot down and told them to fuck off because every time they left the house they made us spend more money than planned and the medication was going to be expensive.

Gotta say thank God I was an asshole to them that day.

My mom has some serious brain fog when we got to the 24HR pharmacy, she had tried to hold out and suck up the pain but I backfired on her and she wasn't able to hold out as long as she wanted which meant it was 9pm by the time we had headed into town. So she shoves the money into my hands and tell us to go get it.

We walk up to the pharmacy and wait in line outside. The pharmacy itself had been closed leaving only a tiny window for money and drugs to be exchanged. There's only two people in front of us, and then two men get behind us.

Blue shirt has a pistol on each side and a wicked looking knife on his right. Yellow shirt keeps looking me up and down. He only had one pistol.

It's no biggie. My own mom has a revolver in the car herself. Guns are the norm around here. If you don't have one, you at least have a machete. I hadn't noticed then, but they had purposely placed their truck at an angle, preventing anyone from passing the tiny road.

Then they start talking. Mind you, there are no alarm bells in my mind right now. I'm actually incapable of feeling anxiety while on my medication, not to mention my risk assessment skills are lacking due to the Autism. Yellow shirt does most of the talking, trying to sus out who we are and what we're doing. I don't realize things are wrong until my aunt is shaking with the wallet in her hands when I hand her the money to pay.

To me, the entire conversation was reading unwanted male attention, but still being like the sort of pushy politeness common in Latin cultures. This plus the fact that men especially get whatever they want can make even everyday interactions feel like microaggressions.

They get closer, and I corner myself, hoping that if we look ugly enough, they'll leave us alone. My aunt is panicking and trying to throw them off our scent, and then Yellow locks onto me and says "Your not from around here.". A fact in his eyes. He's wrong, but not entirely, I'm not from town, and I don't live in Guatemala anymore.

I'm just interesting looking to most people.

My aunt interjects, because I'm kinda a bitch to men and at the time I wasn't aware but she was worried I'd get us shot or worse.

This is kinda when I start to realize something is Wrong. My mind starts racing and now I'm fully prepared to piss or shit myself to avoid being raped.

Then my mom comes in and saved the day.

Bless her.

She's this stout pretty looking woman, she's got this habit of being confrontational and kinda a bitch. She managed to save my grandma from getting murdered once, and the woman can take one look at you tell you how much you weigh and give you an estimate of how long it would take her to cut you up butcher style. It's her favorite party trick, and is honestly unnerving. She also has very low self esteem, and when her disabilities flare up even more so. Which makes her swooping in and saving us all the more impressive.

My mom maneuvers the car to get closer and asks us what's taking us so long. Just as it was time for our turn, I go into autopilot and start talking to a pharmacist I can't see. The lucky bastard is hidden behind a bullet proof wall. Just out luck, he has to search for an alternative medication.

Mother is trying to distract them, and figure put what's going to get them to stop bothering us. Blue shirt points out that the car she's driving, a Mercedes-Benz SUV is not a common site. European engines around here are not common, and a car is life and freedom. He starts asking about the car and who my mom is, and who we are. How much she'd sell the car for.

My aunt had purposely been avoiding sharing any identifiers, including my last name. While it does have sway, it's often not enough, and it can backfire since people believe my father's family has lots of money and is a proud bunch.

My mother, on the other hand, introduced herself with her household name. This made Yellow shirt pause, and Blue to stop leering at me. After some needling on both ends of the conversation, it turned out that Yellow shirt and I are distantly related.

This finally allowed me to slip past Blue shirt and into the car.

When we got to my grandma's, started properly freaking out. Turns out my mom was fully ready to give them the car in exchange for our lives.

My aunts husband was fully freaked out because apparently those men are like known criminals. Like deep into being Narcos lakeckeys. They aren't Narcos themselves, but they like orbit the same spaces. According to him.

Also NOTE DO NOT LET THIS DISCOURAGE YOU FROM TRAVELLING IN GAUTEMALA!

I DO NOT GO TO TOURIST ATTRACTIONS OFTEN, I EXIST IN PRIMAILY RURAL RESIDENTIAL AREAS OF A NON TOURIST DEPARTMENT. THE BIGGEST WORRY FOR TOURIST IN TOURIST AREAS ARE PICK POCKETS AND FOOD POSIONING!

BE SAFE!

[box-of-chaooos]

I love the 1986 version of scarecrow he’s the absolute sweetest so new to the kin list and new to be headcannoned let’s get started haha!

He himself choose darker more orange straw for his stuffing and hair since he liked it better than the bright yellowish green that’s most often used.

We stand with trans gay scarecrow here on this blog! Under his shirt he is but a burlap sack his entire body is burlap apart from arms and legs which are made of wrapped up straw and on his chest are two patches of fabric sewn neatly to hold the fabric where it was cut from his top surgery! The patches are blue and white polkadotted to remind him of his dear friend Dorothy and the other a pretty emerald colour like the emerald city.

He lives with tin man and helps him to rule the winkies though he only helps he doesn’t want to be made as a second ruler he likes just helping out.

He is in a happy relationship with tin man! Tin man is pansexual and very supportive of his boyfriend.

Scarecrow has autism/adhd he giggles as a stim and likes to play tricks when his hyperactivity kicks in a list of stims is as followed

Giggling

Dancing

Singing

Playing his his hair

Flapping his hands

Tiptoeing

And bad stims because we all have them

Hair pulling

Pulling his straw

Hitting himself

Picking his stitches

He has trouble walking and often gets the shakes terribly he can never stand still because of it and his hand writing is wobbly so he had to concentrate hard to write he has a little wooden cane that he used to help walk better he doesn’t need it often except bad days where he can’t seem to function all to well

His favourite flowers are Red common Poppy’s since it was the flower tin man gave him on there first date and he likes how they look

Seeing how much free time he has on his hands he took up a hobby of crocheting after seeing Dorothy in a beautiful handmade jumper by her aunt em he was fascinated in the texture of the crocheted piece and quickly learnt how to crochet his own stuff he doesn’t know any stitches or techniques simply a single stitch but he’s able to make stuffed toys and blankets infact he made so many random coloured pieces with left over wool so it didn’t go to waste that he made a huge soft blanket

His fear of fire is absolutely terrible and he has panic attacks if he thinks he hears fire and worry’s constantly that something could set alight at any given moment though it never does.

He has anxiety and bad self esteem but he’s working on it as he needs

His favourite thing to do at night when he doesn’t rest is to count stars he often sits out on the balcony to look at them

He thrives in the outdoors and loves to learn about the nature around him

he’s a huge overthinker and has a wild imagination his imagination makes for wonderful stories.

Hes very expressive and feels deeply but doesn’t really know how to show it often times

When he talks he paces and moves his hands like he’s acting he doesn’t even realise he does it

And lastly, he is bbg

[the-rookinator-3000]

uhhhh since you wanted us to ask about rookie: a few rookie hcs???

TOO LATE im already out of the rookie discussion mood

jk. have some!

HE HAS AUTISM AND ADHD!!!

his eyes are naturally purple! he just hides them a lot. no ulterior reason to why, he just thinks he looks cooler with those shades on

on the topic of his eyes, rookie's scleras have this weird tendency to glow purple when in contact with unstable parts of the box dimension. (i.e. a dimension rift, or gary's inventions)

because of the box dimension, the inside of rookie's igloo got kinda affected by it's weirdness (since rookie literally has a portal to the box dimension in his house it must have spread from there). his igloo is GIGANTIC on the inside, it reaches sky scraper levels of high and thats only for his bedroom. he sleeps in this silly makeshift carboard box bed...

rookie and flit are very close, like best buds!

rookie got his hawaiian shirt from my oc who lives in the box dimension!! i havent talked about him yet, his name is boxster :3

rookie takes leadership lessons from aunt arctic (semi-canon fact but i wanted it to be more frequent, let them have a mentor mentee relationship!)

rookie has no family! awesome!

[milkacchan]

Peaky blinders x sister reader with sensory issues, sensory overload piece next dears (requests are also open ❤)

Summary and cw: Reader goes into hyper sensitivity. I do not have Autism, I do however, have ADHD. I suffer with hypersensitivity and sensory overload. This particular story is one I'm writing off perosnal experience. It affects everyone differently, this is just how it affects me.

Tommy wouldn't say there was something off about you, but he'd probably say there was something peculiar about you.

You'd always been particular about things, ever since you were a baby, he can remember. He can remember you being /weird/ with things- like texture or temperature.

And he, along with Arthur, John and polly, mostly just him and Polly, assumed it was just normal; because to an extent it was. Babies find new things everyday and sometimes they don't like them, but they grow into them.

But then it became clear you /weren't/ growing into them. There were shirts you refused to wear because if how they felt on you. You'd cry and kick and scream. You wouldn't touch cold water unless it was for drinking- and don't get him started on wet floors.

As you got older, your reactions changed. You matured and he thought maybe you'd grow out of it. He hated seeing you upset

Wishful thinking. You didn't.

Here you were, 18 and gagging over how a glass mug felt in hand.

It'd been a rough morning, starting when you'd woken up. It was too hot, for one. You kicked the blankets off and moved to get up, the cold floors instantly sent chills through your body. Shoes were the first thing on, you couldn't deal with that today.

And dressing had gone okay until you'd reached for your sweater, touching the fabric you felt yourself gag. You take a deep breath, shaking your hand before going to put it on.

It was fine then, after you'd taken a few breaths and stretched the collar and you hoped to christ you stayed that way.

Finishing your routine, brushing your hair, brushing your teeth (which was hard enough on its own), you head down the stairs. You avoid touching the railing, unsure how your body would react.

"'Morning poppet," Pol hums.

"Mornin auntie."

"There's some hot water in the kitchen, get yourself some tea." She smiles softly and continues her hike to another room.

"Mmm," you nod tiredly.

You weren't sure you'd be able to finish tea, even start it really, not with how sick you felt. Your mind flickered back to the floor and the shirt, you groaned softly. Christ that only made it worse-

"Hey now,"

"Oh- sorry Tommy." You smile sheepishly. "Good mornin,"

"Good mornin', lost in thought already? Pretty early for that."

"Wish I could stop." You hum with a sigh reaching up in the cupboard to grab a mug. You slid it off the wood shelf.

Your body shuttered and you gagged, followed by a cough before dropping the cup. It shattered once it hit the ground and you groaned, squatting and holding your head.

You vaguely heard Tommy call your name, you were too busy trying not to puke. Everything was too much now- your shoes touched wrong, you couldn't wiggle your toes enough. Your hair felt weird along your fingers and your sweater- the fucking sweater. It just sat /wrong/.

"Hey," Tommy whispers, he looks panicked. "Hey are you okay?"

"Tommy," you take a shakey breath. You could feel the gag at the back of your throat. "Get my shirt off- get my fucking shirt off," you looked at the ground, trying not to focus on the fabric sitting against your skin.

"What...?"

"Tommy pull it off!"

"Okay- okay," his hands immediately drop to the hem of you sweater and he pushes it up your torso before tugging it over your head. He tossed it to the side. You're left in nothing but pants and a bra now, heaving as you screw your eyes shut.

"What's going on?" John's at the door now, sounding just as panicked as Tommy looked.

"Go get Pol," he says simply. 

"What's-"

"Go get Pol." He hissed, sending a glare to his brother.

You slide your hand under his jacket to grab his sleeve before dropping your head to your brothers chest. He shrugs off his coat and abandons it where it drops.

"Can I touch you?" He whispers, his hands hovering over your skin.

You take a deep breath and nod. "You can try," you mumbled.

He placed a hand on your upper back, the other in you hair. You don't seem to react and he silently thanks the heavens before stroking your hair.

"You alright?" His voice is soft, laced with concern. He understood it now, you had an episode. He hasn't seen one in years, especially not one this bad.

You nod, swallowing thickly.

"Do you need a bucket?"

You shake your head and close your eyes.

"Is she alright?" Pol calls out as soon as she's stepped into the room.

"Had an episode Pol," Tommy strokes your hair and looks up. "Can you turn on the record and tell the boys it'll be a quieter day today?"

"Tommy.." You mumble.

"And get her the white shirt she has, the long sleeved one with the small strawberry on the left."

Of course he'd take care of it. It was Tommy, regardless of how you'd voice your distaste for it, hezd always take care of the situation.

"Does she need a bucket?"

"No, she's alright."

"Broke your glass Aunt Pol," you whisper. "M sorry,"

"It's alright poppet, I can get another one."

You nod slightly.

She takes off and you can here her Inform Arthur and John. You smile slightly.

"Is it happening often? I haven't seen you like this in almost two years. You just not telling us?"

Then music.

"'Not this bad," you sigh. "Smaller things though, yeah."

He nods slightly. "Alright,"

"M sorry you have to deal with it."

"Don't be, promise it's no trouble."

He takes your shirt from Polly and slips over your head. You pull your arms through.

It was a shirt he had made, it was soft, oa fabric you never seems to mind. It was years old, and you'd slip into it whenever things got to be too much, or texture just wasn't cooperating.

"Alright sweet girl," he squeezes your arm gently. "Let's move to the parlor." He lifts you as he stands.

"Tommy I can walk,"

"I know," he smiles. "I used to carry you when you were a kid though, and much less of a rat."

"Not a damn rat," you grumble, thankful when he sets you on the couch.

"You alright?" John asked worriedly.

"You don't need a bucket do you?"

"Why do you all keep asking if I need a bucket? No Arthur, I appreciate the concern, I don't need a bucket."

"So you're alright?" John asks again.

"Yes, stupid, I'm fine." You smile softly.

[fleecy-fawkes91]

So I went over to my aunt and uncle's today to visit with some of my bio dad's family for the holiday.

Now, my aunt and uncle run a daycare from their home, and she was talking about this kid they've been working with that has some behavioral issues and things and how he finds he can center himself by like, jumping up and down really hard. And she says something to the effect of like "y'know I get it, because..." And proceeds to list all these different sensory things she experiences and how like for example she can't just cut the tag off shirts she has to cut it and wrap it in soft fabric tape otherwise she cannot focus past it and just...things that are making me go "hmmmmmm"

Because I've been peer reviewed diagnosed ADHD, and she's also told me that it's prevalent on that side of the family. But I've also been kind of thinking like, at least for me, autism might go hand in hand right and I've been looking into it on my own, and a lot of what she's saying sounds an awful lot like what those oh so relatable memes talk about.

So I wait until it's just us in the kitchen and I suggest sort of casually like "hey all the stuff you think are just family quirks, have you ever thought it could be... autism?"

And bless her she just goes "no you see, we're sensory beings right, humans? And by your thirties, I think those are dulled in most people. But not us, we're smarter and that's why"

And I just have to go "okay sure, sure yeah that's definitely what it is" because I'll be damned if I'm gonna start shit with my favorite aunt but like....much to think about lol

[friendlyneighborhoodcapricorn]

hey babes! it’s Z with the matchup request hehe

can i please get 1 platonic & 1 romantic matchup between the MCU & TASM spideyverses (like just all the characters you write for from all the different spideyverses)

i’m 22, NB (he/they) and bi

i have a short, black mullet & wear huge 70s glasses basically 24/7 (i’m almost blind without them) and almost the only outfit i wear is huge tshirt, baggy shorts and big, chunky platform docs

i have autism and ADHD and i’ve been described to have a very funny, chaotic, unhinged vibe (in a good way) and i can be really loud, chatty and excitable when people first meet me (im great at breaking the ice) though i just talk constantly about NOTHING and it takes a bit of time and trust to get me to actually start opening up about who i really am/what i’m really like. once you get to know me, i’m a very sensitive person, i love deep existential conversations and philosophy and psychology, and i’m a VERY loyal and committed friend. my love language is definitely being able to support, reassure and give advice to my loved ones and to help them see how wonderful, strong and capable they really are.

i also love music, i’m studying songwriting and i write/play/produce punk/new wave/hyperpop music. i also play banjo in my spare time. i watch a ridiculous amount of movies and i love redbull (hehe)

thanks angel <3

I immediately saved it as a draft this time lol.

Okay, let’s see. For your platonic match-up, I match you with…

TASM!Peter Parker

The only reason I went with Andrew’s Spidey is because he’s somehow even more chaotic than Tom’s, and that seems to match your vibe pretty well.

Just imagine all the insane stuff the two of you get up to when left unsupervised. Especially when there’s Red Bull involved.

Movie nights are a must, but they always involve a lot of banter. Sometimes you watch movies just to roast them. And if you ever watch Die Hard together, there’s the discussion about whether or not it’s a Christmas movie (it’s not).

He tries to teach you how to skate. That’s the day you find out he’s Spider-Man: because he catches you with a web before you can fall flat on your face.

“Wait, did you just-“

“Nope, you must’ve hit your head.”

“Peter, I’m dangling half a foot off the ground.”

He tried lol.

So you become his go-to person if he ever needs help, either with catching criminals or to patch him up.

From then on, he also lets you make up excuses for aunt May because Peter can’t lie to save his life (I mean, we all remember the chimney scene right?) and you can’t possibly be any worse than him.

Music is another thing you bond over. Peter is so hyped whenever you show him a new song you’ve been working on. If he bounces any harder, he’s gonna hit his head on the ceiling.

Being his wingman when he asks Gwen out.

Actually, you probably called Gwen over to the two of you and told her Peter liked her. You were done with his quiet pining.

And I’m going to end it there because we all know how tasm 2 ends and nope, not going there lmao.

Now for romantic, I match you with…

Michelle Jones

MJ is very much like you in regards to needing time to open up, so the first few conversations are just sarcastic back and forths.

She likes that you play banjo because that's not something you hear every day.

MJ seems like the sort of person who's into really obscure movies, as well as watching those really bad disaster movies like Sharknado for the hell of it. You two have a blast powering through those.

Will steal your shirts.

It's no secret that MJ is a big fan of deep conversations, so your dates are either spent talking about social issues, or about weird philosophies.

Speaking of dates, they're usually pretty low-key. Going to watch the latest weird movie, just walking around New York, it doesn't really matter what you do: it's the fun of getting to do it together.

I hope you enjoyed it! Thank you so much for the request, and have a wonderful day/night :)