#before I even knew I had autism/got diagnosed | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lesbianpepsi · 1 year ago

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my love, my life

pairing: jenna ortega x autistic!fem!reader

summary: Jenna was the rock you never knew you needed in your life

link to request

words: 4.007k (im sorry)

warnings: verbally abusive parents, ableism, ableist remarks, r parents are dicks, r has a meltdown, swearing, bad writing

authors note: if i got anything wrong please correct me in a respectful and kind way please, other than that i hope you enjoy this:)

You were the one who begged your parents to allow you to start acting at such a young age, being utterly fixated on the world of acting after seeing Spider-Man for the first time.

In the beginning your parents didn't like the idea of you becoming a child actor, especially after what they heard from a myriad of news sources of how troubled child actors became when they reached their teens.

But after a lot of pleading they reluctantly allowed you to audition for anything that came up.

You were the young age of six when you got your first real role, it was for a random soup company commercial, it was nothing major but it was something.

Acting brought you a large sense of comfort, already knowing what was going to happen as you memorised your lines in a blink of an eye.

You always had a struggle with portraying emotions but eventually you got the hang of it and became much better.

At eight years old you got your first big break; the role of a little sister's killer. The role of Jill Roberts' little sister in Scream Four.

You blew up.

At first you weren't a fan of all the attention and even got quite upset over it, the large change of attention by strangers on the street scaring you.

Your parents on the other hand were absolutely thrilled and began auditioning you for many other movies and tv shows.

You weren't properly diagnosed with autism till the age of fourteen; long after you had become a child actor. You were shocked but found comfort in that information, it was as if you finally found out the answer to longing question.

Your parents on the other hand did not believe the doctors when they diagnosed you with autism, refusing to believe the fact and that you were just simply dramatic.

As your fame grew, your stress and anxiety only did too. It got to the point where you could barely get through an interview before going completely non-verbal for a few days.

Your parents called you dramatic since you could act in front of cameras but couldn't answer simple questions in front of a few people with flashing cameras.

You defended yourself that it wasn't the same, it never was. You didn't know what was going to happen in those interviews, while you knew everything when acting.

As the years passed you became even quieter and couldn't attend almost any interview or premier. You stopped auditioning for movies and shows when you were sixteen, deciding to take a two year break of acting.

Your parents were enraged by that fact and barely interacted with you, leaving you alone in one small house as they bought another large one for themselves with your money.

You didn't care, as long as you were alone you were happy.

A few days after your eighteenth birthday you received a call, asking if you were willing to come back to play an old role.

Maxine "Max" Roberts, the younger sister of Jill Roberts.

In the beginning you were reluctant but after a few days of thinking you accepted the role.

Without a doubt, that was the best decision of your entire life, career wise aside.

In the set of Scream Five you reconnected with old friends such as Neve Campbell, Courtney Cox and even David Arquette officially as grown adult and no longer a child.

You also managed to make long life friends such as Mikey Madison, Mason Gooding, Dylan Minnette, Jack Quaid and you even meet your favourite youtuber James A. Janisse who made a small cameo in the movie.

But the person you met on the Scream Five set that changed your life was the actress who played Tara Carpenter; the first Scream character to survive an opening kill.

Jenna Ortega.

You and Jenna instantly connected, a feeling you had never felt in your entire lifetime. Jenna understood you better than your own parents, even treating you better than them.

Before Scream Five was even wrapped you and Jenna began dating; both of you absolutely head over heels for each other.

Jenna helped you tremendously throughout the process after Scream Five was released, helping you in interviews if you got nervous and felt your throat tightening up. Helping you in any premier by always holding your hand if you wanted to squeeze hers if you got too angsty.

She did so much more than your parents ever did. It wasn't a wonder why you hadn't had a proper conversation with them since you were sixteen.

You were fine with that fact; you didn't need them anymore. You had Jenna.

—————

"So, I was thinking of some mac 'n cheese for dinner?" Jenna suggested once the credits of 'The Amazing Spider-Man' began playing throughout yours and Jenna's small living room.

You grinned happily at her as you tapped your finger along with the music that played with the credits. "Well if you're offering of course."

Jenna scrunched her nose adorably as she smiled at you, leaning closer to give you a quick peck on the forehead as she stood up. "I'm presuming you watch the end credit scene?" She asked you as she leaned against the doorway of the kitchen.

You nodded your head as your eyes remained fixated on the screen. "You presume correctly, my love."

"As always, my life." Jenna replied, finishing off your nickname with a small laugh as she entered the kitchen.

It was a silly joke that started when Jenna found out your all time favourite band was Abba. She had made it her life goal to memorise each of your favourite songs; one of those songs being 'My love, My life'.

You smiled to yourself as you unconsciously played with the bottom of the graphic Spiderman shirt Jenna gave you for your birthday months ago. The material of the shirt was your favourite and didn't irritate you like many other fabrics did.

After a few minutes passed the end credit scene began playing as the smell of mac 'n cheese started to infiltrate your nose, your smile softened.

Mumbling the lines along with the characters you were interrupted when three knocks were at the door.

You ignored the fact it was an awkward number as you headed towards the door, confused as to who it could be.

Maybe it was one of Jenna's siblings you guessed, but as you unlocked the door your jaw dropped as you saw who was standing behind the door with crooked smiles.

"Mother? Father?" You asked bewildered as you stared at them with wide eyes, you hadn't seen them in years.

Your mother smiled sweetly, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she took a step closer to you with open arms, to which you took a step back at.

"Y/n, honey, it's been so long." Your mother cooed as she lowered her arms, a small look of hurt in her eyes at your rejection at touch.

"Four years. It's been four years." You confirm with a deadpan look as you looked at them, they still looked pretty much the same since you last saw them. "Why're you two here?" You asked them rather bluntly, your eyes narrowing questioningly on your father who didn't have the sweet smile your mother had on her face.

"Is it so wrong for parents to come visit their only daughter? We've missed you so much after all these years." She said as she wrapped an arm around your fathers bicep, leaning into him. Your fathers jaw clenched momentarily as he nodded his head stiffly. "We've missed you so much, rabbit." Your father mumbled out in a gruff tone of voice.

A smile grazed your lips at the nickname your father used to call you when growing up, there was no backstory to it, it was a simple name he had called you for years.

At the nostalgic name you couldn't help to lower your guard as you gave them a genuine smile, to which your parents actually smiled back at you.

"Y/n?" Jenna's voice broke you off your trance as you snapped your head to the side, Jenna rounding the corner with her hair now in a messy bun.

Before you could get a word out you heard your mother gasp as she freed your father from her grip, a look of admiration in her eyes as she looked at your girlfriend.

"And you're our Y/n's girlfriend, we've heard so much about you. It's nice to finally meet you." She interrupted, extending her hand out to shake Jenna's.

Jenna glanced at you with a questioning look, you shrugged your shoulders weakly at her look. She sighed as her movie star smile appeared on her face, turning back to face your mother.

"Likewise." She says as she connects her hand with your mothers.

As your mother chatted Jenna's ears off you turned your attention back to your father who was still standing awkwardly in the doorway.

Your father must've felt eyes on him as he slowly flickered his eyes away from your mothers figure to your eyes, his eyes still as cold as you remembered.

He coughed dryly as he took a singular step towards you, a tight lipped smile on her face as he looked down at you.

"It's nice to see you again, peanut." He whispered to you, your heart melted at his words. Has your father actually changed? It sure sounded like it.

"It's nice to see you too, father." You replied back with a whisper, a small smile toyed on your lips. He grinned as he nodded curtly at you before he focused back on your mother.

"Is it alright if we stayed for dinner? It's just we haven't seen our Y/n in such a long time." You heard your mother plead to Jenna, her voice bordering into desperation.

Jenna's beautiful brown eyes flickered over to you, silently asking you if you were okay with you, you nodded your head.

She let out a small breath as she nodded her own head, returning to meet your mothers eyes.

"Of course, I hope you don't mind mac 'n cheese." Jenna joked as she took a few steps back, your mother following hot on her trail.

You and your father follow them as you close the front door. Your father turned to look at you as he walked over to the dining table. "You're still obsessed with that?" He asked with what sounded like curiosity to you, meanwhile Jenna's head had snapped back to where you and your father stood at his tone of words which did not sound like it was full of curiosity.

You nodded your head oblivious as you pulled out a chair for him. "Yes I do, it's been my comfort meal for years. I'm surprised you even remembered that."

He scoffed as he glanced back at you, sitting down in the seat. "I wish I didn't." He grumbled under his breath, thankfully you didn't hear his words as you headed over to the kitchen where your mother and Jenna were at.

Jenna was slowly stirring the pot full of mac 'n cheese as your mother chatted her ear off, a look of fake interest on Jenna's face.

"Do you need help with anything, Jen?" You asked her, interrupting your mother as you moved to stand next to her. She smiled softly at you as she nodded her head. "Could you get the cutlery and bowls out for me please?" You nodded your head as you immediately went to do what she asked for.

Thankfully, your mother left the kitchen as she went to sit down next to your father, whispering to him as their eyes glanced over the apartment.

You grabbed four bowls off of the top shelf with ease as you heard Jenna's hushed voice.

"Hey," She began, you turned to look at her as you neatly placed the bowls on the counter. "you sure you're okay with them being here?" She finished off in a whisper as she gazed into your eyes.

You nodded your head as you glanced back at your parents whispering to each other, smiling before you turned to look back at your girlfriend.

"I'm okay with them being here, really unexpected which annoys me but I haven't seen them in so long." Your tone became even more hushed as you leaned closer to Jenna. "Dad even remembered my nickname and the food I like, that must mean something, right?"

Jenna sighed as she nodded her head weakly, smiling as weakly as she placed a comforting hand on top of yours. "Okay, if you want them here then they can stay. But the moment you feel like you don't want them here just tell me okay?"

You nod your head understanding. "Okay, I will, thank you." Jenna gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before she turned back to her pot of mac 'n cheese.

After a few minutes passed you, Jenna and your parents were seated at your dining table as you all ate your food.

You were sitting in your favourite seat as Jenna sat next to you, your father across from you as your mother sat across from Jenna.

You were eagerly eating your food with a smile on your face, a sense of warmth and comfort hitting you as you ate your food.

"This is really good, Jen, thank you." Jenna's smile managed to make you feel even more at peace.

"So, Y/n, you got any new movies or shows coming up?" Your mother asked you with intrigue as she slowly ate her food.

You shook your head as you took another spoonful. "No but I was in the latest Spider-Man movie. It was so cool! I thought I would never be given a chance to be in a Spider-Man movie but I was offered a small role. I even got to design my own Spider-Man character and how she was and -oh my god I even-"

"Lower your voice, Y/n." Your father snapped as he played with his food. "We're not in another room, we're right next to you."

You frowned as you stopped talking immediately, looking down at your half empty bowl embarrassed. "Sorry, father." You said in a voice that you made sure it was quieter than before.

"And what, baby?" Jenna asked with an encouraging smile on her face, her eyes focused on you and only you.

You picked up your head as you smiled sheepishly at her. "And I got to meet Daniel Kaluuya who's one of my favourite actors."

Your father sighed dramatically as he shook his head as he pushed his food around the bowl, he hadn't taken a singular bite of the food.

"How much longer do we have to stay here?" He whispered to your mother in a tone what he thought was low enough, but you and Jenna heard him clearly.

Your eyebrows furrowed together as you loosened your grip on your spoon. "Oh, do you have somewhere else to be?" You asked him sincerely.

He scoffed as he shook his head in disbelief. "Your attitude is still as horrible as I see."

What?

"I don't understand. I was asking you a question. How was that giving you attitude?" You asked him again, straightening your posture as you desperately searched for Jenna's hand from under the table.

She quickly interlocked your fingers together, her thumb expertly rubbing softly at your skin in an attempt to soothe you.

Your father dismissed you as he turned to look at his wife, a look of annoyance clear on his face. "Ask her. I'm not staying here much longer with that here." He demanded in a hushed whisper.

A deep frown slowly appeared on your face as you stared between your parents, an uneasy feeling started to grow in your stomach.

"What's he talking about, mother?" She sighed at your words, dropping her spoon into the bowl as she leaned against her hands.

"We need to ask a favour from you, honey." Your throat felt tighter as you swallowed dryly, your grip on Jenna's hand tightened.

"What favour?" You asked her, your eyes flickered back to your father who wasn't even looking at you. Your heart clenched uncomfortably in your chest at the sight.

"Well your father and I have been going through some things lately, and it hasn't been fun. It's been especially hard on your dad." The older woman sighed as she closed her eyes momentarily before she reopened them, her eyes teary as she looked into your eyes. "As your parents, we only ask you one favour, Y/n. We raised you and no parent wants to come grovelling to their own flesh and blood for help."

You stayed silent as you listened to her words, your anxiety was starting to increase at a speed that you hadn't felt in years.

"We need to borrow some money." She finally confessed with a pleading gleam in her eyes. "It's the only thing we've ever asked of you, my sweet child. Please, for your mom and dad."

You should've known they hadn't changed, you should've known.

As you stared into your parents eyes you swallowed dryly as you slowly opened your mouth.

"No." You whispered out.

"No?" He repeated in a mocking tone. "No? Are you serious? After all we've done for you?"

Your frown deepened as you averted his piercing gaze, looking down in your lap as you unconsciously started to rub your feet against each other.

"We could've given your spastic ass up for adoption but we didn't. And this is how you repay us? What a wonderful fucking daughter we have."

You shook your head weakly as your movement with your feet started to become more erratic.

"Get out of our house, right now." Jenna said coldly, trying to keep her temper under control as she didn't want to yell like your father was doing.

A sniffle was heard from your mother as she wiped the tears from her eyes with a tissue. "My own daughter is betraying her only parents." She mumbled to herself.

It was if your heart was in your throat, the feeling as if it was tightening making you shake your head more violently.

"You see what you're doing, you freak, making your own mother cry." Your father pushed as he stood up, banging his fist against the table loudly.

You flinched at the noise as you shut your eyes tightly, letting go of Jenna's hand as you wrapped your arms around yourself.

Jenna stood up as you let go of her hand, glaring heavily at your father. "I'm going to ask you again, leave our home and never return or I'll call the cops." She spat out slowly, her voice full of venom.

"You know what, Miss America, we'll do exactly that. Who would even want that as a child?" He laughed as if it was a joke as he held his wife's sobbing hand. "You're not my child, Y/n. Nobody would even want a reta-"

"Don't you fucking dare finish that sentence." Jenna interrupted the man's words, fury in her eyes as she rounded the table. "You should be ashamed of yourselves, you two are a joke. Get out of our house right now."

Your father scoffed as he helped pull up his wife from her chair, tightening his hand in hers.

You weren't looking at them as you kept shaking your head, your eyes shut tightly as you mumbled incoherent words to yourself. The tightening in your throat becoming unbearable.

You heard your father and Jenna argue lowly but you couldn't hear anything they said as your fathers previous words plagued your thoughts loudly.

A wave of unshed tears were piling up behind your shut eyes as you slid off the wooden chair to sit down against the wall, shaking uncontrollably as you shook your head violently.

Maybe he was right, maybe you were just an unloveable creature.

Behind closed eyes you could notice the room darken, with a shaky gasp you opened your eyes, a flood of tears escaping immediately.

Through the thick tears you could see Jenna crouched down a few feet in front of you, the room itself was darkened as the main light was switched off. The only light remaining in the room was the corner lamp.

"Y/n, can I hold you?" Jenna's disoriented voice asked you, you opened your mouth to say something but nothing came out.

Your fathers cruel words voiced themselves in your mind at your body's rejection of speaking. A sob racked through your body as you desperately nodded your head. Instantaneously the moment you nodded your head Jenna moved to wrap her arms around you, allowing you to lean all your weight into her.

Silent sobs erupted from your body as you clung to Jenna for dear life, hiding your face in the crook of her neck as your arms were wrapped around her tightly.

"It's okay, it's just you and me, nobody else." She cooed into your ear as she gently rocked you back and forth. You could feel one of her hands rubbing affectionately against your back as she shushed you.

You don't know how long you stayed like that for; In Jenna's protective hold as she rocked you back and forth as you sobbed.

Eventually as your breathing calmed down and your sobs dying down, Jenna slowed down her rocking but she kept rubbing at your back with her soft palm.

"You feel a bit better?" She whispered into the dark room, not wanting to startle you with a loud voice.

You nodded your head mutely as you sniffled, your face still hidden in the crook of her neck.

"You know what they said wasn't true, right?" Jenna softly asked as her hand soothed you. You didn't move as you struggled to swallow, knowing if you nodded your head you would be lying.

Weakly, you shrugged your shoulders at her words, your fathers words still plagued your mind.

"What they said was absolute nonsense, Y/n, you're none of the things they called you." She reassured you, her voice so soft that if someone was in the kitchen they wouldn't have heard her. "I promise you I'll never let anyone say anything like that to you again, because what they said was lies."

You nodded your head as Jenna rocked you carefully, your breathing calming down.

"I love you, Y/n, never forget that. I love everything about you, everything." Jenna whispered again as she pressed a feather light kiss to the top of your head. "I wouldn't want you any other way, you're perfect just the way you are, and I love you so much."

Once again you attempted to speak but nothing except a strangled gasp of air came out, you shut your eyes back immediately as embarrassment coursed through your veins.

"Hey, hey, take your time, you don't have to force yourself to talk, okay? Going non-verbal is perfectly okay." Jenna cooed instantly as she rubbed at your back with a stronger force, you relished in the feeling as you nodded your head.

"Do you want me to reheat your dinner so we can watch the second Amazing Spider-Man movie while we eat it?" Jenna offered you in a gentle voice, she had slowed down on the rocking as you calmed down.

Mutely, you nodded your head with more eagerness than before. Jenna smiled in relief as she nodded her own head.

"Okay, I'll go reheat it and you can put the movie on for us. How does that sound?" She said, you pulled away from her as you smiled weakly, nodding your head. Jenna's own smile grew as she nodded her head along with you.

You were still weren’t sure whether your fathers words were true or not, but one thing you were positive of was that Jenna was the best girlfriend.

Jenna will always be your rock as she will always be the love of your life.

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x austisc!reader #tara carpenter x reader #wednesday addams x reader #vada cavell x reader #fluff #angst #my writing #my fan fic

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r4incl0uds · 1 year ago

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Honestly I am so glad to see this in an article - this is my specific presentation of autism and I have never ever ever seen it acknowledged anywhere. The DSM-5 literally has separate level categories for social skills and behavioural issues, but no one ever seems to talk about the people who are Level 1 in one factor but Level 2 in another, and therefore don't fit into the clear-cut level system. I've had a lot of difficulty relating to other autistic people because of this - my social/communication skills are good and I can live independently to a degree (to my knowledge), but I have bad self-injurious behaviours, severe meltdowns, PICA-like behaviour, and a near total inability to mask - like I hear a lot of people talking about masking in autism and I really cannot relate to it at all as I have never really done that (Everyone except me and my dad instantly knew something was off, and as a result I got bullied extremely badly as a child. Should have been diagnosed a lot earlier than I was but dad was against it so I only got diagnosed when it was almost too late. I did try to mask but I completely failed and was still bullied and rejected, so I gave up. Now I very rarely have social interactions with anyone who isn't already in my circle). So I feel unable to relate to any one level of autism, and I've never seen anything about "in-betweeners" before today. I felt like I didn't fit into the autism community. So an article like this, mentioning even a sentence about the "in-betweeners", is EXACTLY what I wanted and needed to see. Lovely stuff, wish there was more. Anyone else with this same issue out there?

#actually autistic #actuallyautistic #autism #autistic #autistic community #autistic adult #autistic things #asd #asc #neurodiversity #level 1 autism #level 2 autism #BE NICE

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ericshoney · 6 months ago

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Caring Boy ~ Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Your boyfriend Matt is a walking green flag and helps you when you feel down or are sensory overloaded.

Warnings: Mentions of depression, anxiety, Autistic!Reader, sensory overload.

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Your boyfriend Matt Sturniolo was amazing. He was a walking green flag. You had met Matt when you were just ten, he was eleven, and there was an instant connection. You both, along with Nick and Chris, were inseparable and when you turned sixteen, Matt seventeen, you both started dating, just before they started their YouTube channel.

One thing you always struggled with was depression and anxiety, along with being diagnosed with autism at an earlier age. Matt had been right by your side through everything. He always carried something for you in case you needed a stim break, made sure you had all your meds regularly and never ran out, and most importantly, a shoulder to cry on the rough days.

When the guys moved to LA, Matt instantly said you should go with them, which you did, now living with the trio. Chris and Nick also helped where they could, especially if Matt was busy, which you appreciated, but Matt was special as he was your boyfriend.

Today happened to be one of those rough days. The guys had to be up earlier for a meeting, so you would be on your own for a few hours. It didn't bother you since you would lay in for a bit, or so you thought.

You woke up at one, which was strange since you usually slept a bit later. Your mind was racing slightly as you knew the guys had already left for the meeting. You decided to take a shower, seeing if that would help.

However, the water was more on the cold side, resulting in taking a quick shower but not washing your hair. You got out and dressed into some shorts, a Fresh Love hoodie and slipping some socks on.

You then went to the kitchen and grabbed something to eat. You saw a pack of Pop Tarts so you grabbed a packet and sat on the sofa, scrolling through your phone.

As you ate your breakfast and scrolled on your phone, you tapped your foot a bit, liking a few posts you saw and random TikTok's.

But an hour later, after seeing many cute and pretty girls on your socials, you started to feel insecure. You had also forgotten to take your meds, completely ignoring the reminder on the fridge.

You threw your phone down and laid on the sofa, trying to ignore it. Matt always told you how much he loved you and how beautiful you were. So you had a minute thinking about that, but the more you did, the more you missed him, even if he was already on his way home with Nick and Chris.

You then stood up and went to find some of your stim stuff. You got a bit frustrated as you couldn't find them instantly, but finally found a small popper.

You walked around the living room, using the popper, so focused on it, you didn't hear or see the guys walk in. Nick walked up the stairs first, quickly signalling Matt to get you.

"Hey baby, you okay." Matt called, grabbing your hands gently.

"I, hey! When did you get home?" You asked, slightly shocked to see him suddenly. You also saw Nick and Chris, who both gave you a soft smile.

"We just got home. What's wrong baby?" Matt asked, noticing the tears in your eyes.

"Just...I woke up and my mind was racing, like lots of random thoughts. I then took a shower but the water was cold! So I took just a quick shower and didn't wash my hair which is really annoying, I mean I know it's not greasy but it would have just felt nice. Then I got some Pop Tarts to eat as I watched my phone for a bit, but all these pretty girls kept coming up and the same on TikTok, so I came off cause it started making me feel bad. Then I remembered what you said about me being pretty and you loving me, but it made me kinda sad cause I missed you. Then I needed to stim, but couldn't really find anything good so I'm using this." You rambled, holding up the popper to show him.

Matt shared a look with Nick and Chris, both boys knew what he was thinking. Nick went over to where they keep your meds and opened it to see today's still there. The eldest sighed and showed Matt.

"Baby....you haven't had your meds." He said softly.

"Shit...I forgot. I'm sorry!" I cried.

"No, no baby. It's okay. I should have set a reminder on your phone." Matt replied, watching as you played with the rings on his fingers.

Nick came over and passed you the correct meds as Chris got you some water to take them with. The three watched as you swallowed them all, Matt praising you softly.

"Thanks guys." You said.

"Your welcome." Nick replied.

"Wanna go watch some movies?" Matt offered, making you nod.

The two of you then went to his room, where you cuddled up to him, watching your favourite movie on the TV, happy to have Matt by your side.

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dogwaterdish · 5 months ago

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As promised, I'm back to talk more about Midoriya being autistic! I'll talk about special interests, stimming, social difficulties, intense emotions/empathy, and other miscellaneous things I think are better explained about him when looked through the lens of Autism.

Special Interests

One of the most obvious traits is his strong- often described as obsessive- interests. Mainly heroes, All Might, and quirks. These interests are pretty much just special interests - the level of intensity and long term hold on him is how special interests can function.

Some people might argue he's just using it as an escape from his reality of quirklessness, but these interests were visible before and after he was quirkless. When he got diagnosed as quirkless, he had already had a passionate interest in All Might.

And while All Might and heroes are loved by the majority of the population, it's been noted by many people that he has a lot stronger of an interest in them than most, to the point some call it creepy and obsessive. He's very knowledgeable about these topics, and infodumps about them very often! For example, when his class met the pussycats:

As we can see, he's very ready to start spewing hero facts, and is excited by seeing heroes. He does this often, and knows very much about most heroes- as we can see in the first chapter as well. He knew the name of Kamui woods big move despite him being a new hero, and knew several facts about him off the top of his head. This muttering is also frowned upon socially, but he doesn't pick up on that much at all, and continues his muttering until he either gets distracted or stopped by someone else. This all makes me believe that these are his special interests!

Stimming

Midoriya has some things that he does that I categorize as stimming! The biggest one is muttering, he's seen doing this often, and a lot of the time it seems to be a form of regulation. For example, during the USJ when he hurt is finger:

He is often seen muttering in times of high emotions (which is often for him with the intense emotions he experiences) and it seems to help him calm down, focus, and relax, as well as make plans.

Another example of him stimming is when he was talking with Nighteye about an All Might clip!

These motions are often used by him during times where he is excited, scared, and even focused. A common stim I've seen from him is pulling on his bottom lip!

While stimming is something everyone does to some degree, autistic people stim much more regularly for emotional regulation and to keep a proper amount of stimulation, and Midoriya falls into the latter category, where he stims much more than neurotypical people. This stimming has been pointed out by many characters and some have called it odd, mainly with his muttering.

Social Difficulties

Another major thing I see in him that is reminiscent of Autism is his abnormal behavior socially, and his cluelessness when it comes to social interactions.

Here we see Midoriya wave to Shinso, then get confused about why he ignored him. This could be just general confusion that many people would experience but I think that since stuff like this happens to him somewhat often its pointing more towards social issues n such !

Another example of this was during the final exam arc, where Tsu was asking Uraraka what her and Aoyama were talking about and Uraraka got flustered. Midoriya was clueless during this whole interaction and they made a point to put a question mark by his head. I cannot find this picture for the life of me right now, but if I do I will edit this post and put it in!

I think it's very interesting that he is often characterized as very observant (with his very detailed notes and pattern recognition with how Bakugou fights (another autism thing...)) , but when he is clueless about something it's always a social interaction. Here's some more miscellaneous pictures of him with question marks by his head:

It's very common for autistic people to be lost or confused during social interactions, and to have problems being entirely calm or oriented during conversations. Midoriya has also been shown to be a bit fretful, anxious, or quick to overexplain during conversations, such as when Iida and Uraraka were asking about the nickname "Deku".

Intense Emotions and Empathy

Midoriya is shown many times to have extremely strong emotions, it's one of his key traits along with his high empathy. These big emotions he has are very unregulated, at least early in the series, and he is prone to bursting into tears at a moments notice. This upcoming picture was when he met up with All Might after receiving his UA acceptance letter.

If you have seen any clips of MHA, you have seen how much he cries and how intense his emotions are. However, he doesnt always cry when he has strong emotions, like when he gets excited and pumped up about his classmates or heroes, and starts muttering and sometimes flapping his arms.

Along with that, he has strong empathy for other people and can "feel" the energy and emotions of others when they're particularly strong. He also has more empathy and compassion for the villains than most people, insisting he must save Shigaraki rather than just kill him like everyone suggested. Irregular emotions and empathy levels are yet another trait of autism that he possess.

Other traits

Like I said in the start of this post, some of these things aren't necessarily indicative of autism or anythin', but they make so much more sense when looked at through the lens of autism, and combined with all the other traits he has, only add to his likelihood of being Autistic!!

One thing I've seen Midoriya do quite often is doing raptor arms! Heres some examples of that:

here are also some examples of Midoriya sitting in peculiar ways as well! Not a trait of autism particularly, but I've seen odd sitting common in many autistic people!

Conclusion!!

So all that is pretty much to say Midoriya is a pretty autistic character! Whether it was intentional or not he's super autism coded and I think it's very neat. I also think it's neat we have essentially the same spins (all might!). All the info from here comes from research I've done, along with referencing my own experience as an autistic boy.

Happy birthday to him as well!! :] ty for reading all that

(also @animaatra since you wanted to be tagged :] )

#mha #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #izuku midoriya #midoriya izuku #autistic midoriya #midoriya izuku is autistic #autistic izuku midoriya #deku #mha deku #bnha deku #autistic izuku #happy birthday midoriya #midoriya #autism headcanon #dogwatertalks #I know it isnt his b-day anymore for some of y'all but it's the evening of his b-day for me rn

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echofromtheabyss · 2 years ago

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So, if you want to understand the history of ND stuff in any useful kind of way you have to know that we talked about these things differently. Gen Xrs have a different generational experience and Boomers' is different still.

Prior to the 80s, NDs were really not a thing. The optic was almost entirely in terms of learning disability and intellectual impairment in the 70s.

ADHD - not autism - is really the first we see of anything resembling the modern ND consciousness, as "autistic" was a label reserved for children presenting with severe disability or at minimum, delay.

Autism in the 70s and 80s and before was not culturally adjacent to ADHD or giftedness, it was adjacent to conditions of severe intellectual impairment.

It's possible to be an 80s ADHD labeled autistic who gets good interventions *because lots of how ADHD was understood at the time, got absorbed by autism later.*

This is basically my story as a matter of fact, a lot of helpful support I got early was via the ADHD pipeline, and so ADHD *is* my "recognized early enough to get meaningful self understanding and meaningful support* narrative, which is a big reason I was ABLE to shrug off autism as a label for about 15 years, until the changing autism stereotypes caught up with me.

ADHD and early issues with visible LD etc are WHY I didn't end up in the "normal until hospitalized" optic that some autistics I knew ended up in, if they had *only* been seen as gifted. I was very aware of my stuff very early even if it was called something else and even if it will be called something else in the future, and it shaped my social choices, my career choices, etc.

Also there was the optic to Boomers and older that you really could just be a "normal" person or even a high performing "genius" who was just "a little slow as a kid." (There are many historical figures this actually applies to. "A little slow as a kid" may just be within a *normal* range of child development.) This is actually part of where many Boomers are coming from when they think a certain degree of autism is just normal.

Early labels in adults (whom we would now understand as high masking ASD-1) were more personal history than identity.

To Boomers and older, you were "mentally well" until you presented "mentally ill." There really wasn't anything like being ND as we presently understand. Also, the *very same optics* that got boys seen as gifted, invested lots of time and support into, etc, got girls into the clinical pipeline early. The real dx discrepancy between girls and boys in my generation and older is the degree to which cis het white rich boys were just allowed to not be anything at all while girls were immediately tagged as mentally ill or developmentally disabled with the very same presentation, even within the same family. My grandmother who was a victim of this, and heavily and deeply abused from early childhood, is the sister of my physicist uncle who was on the Manhattan Project and was odd but successful, had a wife and family, never labeled anything at all.

Lots of people we now see as autistic were just considered normal gifted people who then had a "nervous breakdown" after high school/entering the adult world.

It was possible to be totally ego-syntonic as an odd person until diagnosis, if you were in the 80s gifted pipeline, because if you were in a social set that was actually ALLOWED to be intelligent let alone gifted in the first place (i.e., an upper middle class person, with more weirdness optic allowed for boys) you likely weren't going to be diagnosed with ANYTHING unless you were Weird with a Capital W.

That I had any kind of optic besides just being Gifted is *because* despite high IQ, I was a poor academic performer, and *couldn't* mask well inside a school setting.

These are people without even that optic.

They literally were just seen as gifted, and it was assumed that - of course - highly gifted people were a little weird. Gifted optic in school meant access to a whole different social and academic pipeline consisting hugely of other people we would now understand as ND, so it's actually possible to come out of that being totally ego-syntonic, and never ever even seek diagnosis until something breaks.

If you're like my ex husband who ended up just going away to sea for years, and then becoming a programmer in a basement at a university, you might never get diagnosed with anything, especially if you never see yourself as the problem in any of your interpersonal interactions, and that was a FAR more common optic with gifted white Gen X and Jones ASD-1 boys than early dx was.

The thing for my generation isnt the degree to which boys were diagnosed over girls... quite the opposite, it's the degree to which smart white rich boys were just *allowed* to be odd and given tons of concessions *without* being labeled ANYTHING, because of the degree to which the culture saw that boy was probably a future curer of cancer or a future astronaut.

A chunk of the "NT [more likely, high masking autist] woman miserably married to ASD man" narrative on those websites like FAAAS is actually referring to men who don't have any diagnostic label whatsoever and don't understand themselves as the problem, if you actually read the stories.

Those guys don't get diagnosed until something actually breaks - like, their wife hauls them into couples counseling, or they have finally exhausted their supply of good will (many social compensations of gifted children stop working past one's 20s and that's actually when my dx happened too).

Interpersonal problems weren't enough for dx unless they actually bothered a person enough to seek help. Something has to break. You don't end up with a diagnosis because you're happy and adjusted, no matter how odd you are.

Please ask Boomers about nervous breakdowns because half the time this is referring to what we now understand as autistic burnout.

#i have a lot of thermonuclear takes tbh and don't feel autism is going to be a meaningful term in 20 years #the map is not the terrain

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nonspeakingkiku · 8 months ago

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Hey, weird question, but what's it like being nonverbal/unreliably speaking?

Please understand I am simply asking out of genuine curiosity, and mean nothing bad with this ask. (Also, the fact that i have to specify that says stuff about the state of the internet, i suppose)

When Kiku was younger, before had access to communication aids, It was really hard. Especially because people thought Kiku was fully speaking and they didn't know much about autism or anything like that and Kiku wasn't diagnosed with anything (except possibly global development delays, not sure). Kiku couldn't communicate everything Kiku wanted or needed to. Didn't have words for it. And people thought what Kiku said was what Kiku meant and generally if Kiku was disregulated it wasn't what Kiku meant. Kiku couldn't tell was in pain, explain things that happened. Used Echolalia but got told repeating equals mocking so got in trouble for immediate echolalia. But a lot of Kiku's vocabulary feels like Kiku put together the words of other people. Just bits of different phrases and words from various media.

Being nonspeaking/unreliably speaking let to a lot of problems when Kiku was younger, because none of us knew and the things that came out of Kiku's mouth made people mad.

But now that Kiku knows and has communication aids it's not nearly as hard. Still hard. But not as hard. Kiku still has trouble communicating some things and processes things slowly.

For Kiku it's almost like English isn't Kiku's first language (even though it is). Although that might be the aphasia rather than anything else.

Kiku's mouth words are 90% of the time unreliable, especially if they aren't echolalia. That can range from "that's not what I wanted to say at all" to "that wasn't how I wanted to say that". And if it's not unreliable speech from apraxia then it's words being in the wrong order or the wrong word coming out of Kiku's mouth instead (usually always a similar word. Like couch instead of chair or taste instead of smell) because of aphasia.

If have any more questions feel free to ask ☺️

#kiku squeaks #special interest #autism #actually autistic #autistic #nonverbal #nonspeaking #aac user #apraxia #dyspraxia

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morgana-larkin · 8 months ago

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Hey I was wondering if u could do a Melissa x reader were reader struggles with SH and Melissa finds out some how and comforts reader and helps her to not SH or something like that (also I completely understand if u don’t wanna write this and really sorry if it’s triggering to u sorry and thank u)

Hi, thank you for the prompt! I will admit that this one got me a bit. It wasn’t that triggering for me but it was still hard to write. I hope that SH meant self harm or this fic took a very different turn than what you wanted. I went with the reader is autistic because I’m able to relate to that and made it easier to write the feelings and emotions. So here it is and I hope you like it. And of course not edited in the slightest. And I am still taking prompts, I’m currently writing another one for a prompt I got.

Little Droplets of Relief

‼️ TRIGGER WARNING ‼️

This fic heavily describes and talks about self harm and cutting. If you think you’ll get triggered then please don’t read it.

Words: 4.38k

Lazy, useless, unlovable.

3 words that you were used to hearing, mostly from yourself.

Growing up with Autism that went undiagnosed until you were 16 was difficult. There were times when you felt too tired to do anything or you forgot to do basic needs, like eating or brushing your teeth. Lazy.

There were other times when all you wanted to do was drown out society because everything was too much or when you didn’t pick up the most obvious social cues. Useless.

You’ve turned down many invitations from friends because you just felt like laying in your bed and live in the world conjured up by your thoughts. You've been clingy with some people because they don’t leave you and they’re someone you know but that led people to leave you. Everyone left you at some point. Everyone. Unlovable.

Those 3 words, a mantra in your head. Often led you to sit on your bed, rocking yourself back and forth and sometimes tug at your hair.

Until one day, those words in your head distracted you when you went to reach for a fork and ended up picking up a steak knife, from the sharp end. As soon as you picked it up, you dropped it and saw you were bleeding, and the voices stopped for a whole day. So when they returned the next day, you did your usual rocking on the bed and tugged at your own hair so hard you pulled some strands right out. Then you thought of what happened yesterday, you looked at your bandaged hand that your mom did when you told her you accidentally cut yourself. You bled and the voices stopped. So you grabbed a knife from the kitchen when you’re parents weren’t looking and you gave yourself a small cut on the wrist and you watched it bleed. You watched little droplets of blood fall from you and with the blood, the voices left.

It started off small, you would only give yourself a cut when everything else you tried didn’t work, but soon what turned into about once a week, turned into every other day then turned into everyday. Everyday before bed, you would do a small cut on your wrist and watch the blood fall, you called it your little droplets of relief. You always did small so you can easily cover it up with something, when it was hot out, like a scrunchie or thick bracelet.

You were 15 at the time when you started cutting yourself. Then at 17 you got diagnosed with Asperger’s which you were told was a form of Autism. You knew nothing about it. You were explained what it is, it’s mostly known as a social disorder but it’s other things too. For instance you can get tired from socialising, get overwhelmed and block the world out , have obsessions, and in some cases suffer on and off with depression. When you got told this, a lot of things made sense. And while you now had a name to it, you cutting yourself didn’t stop, it became an obsession, a dangerous obsession.

Now you are 27. You’ve been working at Abbott Elementary for a year now as a first grade teacher and you love it there. The kids are crazy, the staff even more, the principal was a whole different level though. You felt like you fit in here, you never felt like you fit in anywhere, always an outcast. You became friends with some of the teachers. The first one you became friends with was Jacob, he was nerdy like you, you had a lot of similar interests. The second one was Gregory, you don’t know why, but you felt like he was like you, he never said anything but a lot of things he does, you do. The third was Janine, although you still are wary of her, a little ball of energy like that can sometimes be too much for you. The next one was Barb, she was sweet to you since you started, always giving great advice if you need it and always lending an ear. Ava you’re still unsure of, her personality was big and her ego even bigger, but she cared about the students and she took some getting used to until you saw a person instead of well… Ava you guess. Then there was Melissa. She was wary of you at first, being new, but you saw she had a heart behind all those leather pants and insults. It took both of you awhile to warm up to each other.

While everyone was nice to you and you considered them friends, you never got close to them. You didn’t want to, because as soon as you did, then poof they’re gone. So you kept them all at a distance, you barely talked about yourself, you didn’t ask them questions about themselves either. You sometimes got up and left if the conversation got personal, mumbling out an excuse of some sort. The only one who really noticed that you did that was Melissa.

You’re not sure why but she seemed to take an interest in you. She kept trying to get to know you but always failed. Until one day she was talking with you in your classroom, you went to reach something and your sleeve rolled up, exposing your cuts right at her. You went a little crazier last night but it was chillier today so you thought it would be fine and just had to wear a long sleeve.

“What are those?” She said

“They’re nothing.” You said defensively. Pulling your sleeve back down

“They didn’t look like nothing.”

“Like I said , it’s nothing so just drop it ok.” You told her.

“Give me your wrist then.”

“What?”

“If you say it’s nothing then you’ll have no problem letting me see your wrist. So come on, let me see your wrist.” She said and you froze. I mean she did have a point, you aren’t showing her because they are something.

“This really isn’t any of your business or concern Melissa, I mean I barely even know you.” You told her, trying to deflect and get out of the conversation revolving your wrist.

“Because you won’t let yourself know me, and you won’t let other people know you.”

“People aren’t worth my time , not if all they do is leave. Like I seriously don’t know why other people try to make friends, people don’t stick around.” You said to her and this confused her. You confuse her. First you have mysterious cuts on your wrist, then you say that people aren’t worth your time. Then she thought about it.

“How many people left you?”

“What?”

“I said , how many people in your life has left you?”

“Too many to count.”

Melissa did end up dropping the cuts on your wrists, but she still worried about you because she has a pretty good idea of why they’re there. It wasn’t until one day, 2 weeks after she saw your cuts, that you came in tired, more tired than just the usual tiredness in the morning.

“You ok y/n?” Melissa asked as you walked into the break room.

“Ya I’m fine. Just didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.” You told her, and it was a half lie. You did get about 5 hours of sleep but that was only because you had to clean up some blood as you cut a bit too deep by accident. On top of that, you’ve been forgetting to eat, you didn’t eat at all yesterday and you forgot a lunch today, and slept in this morning by accident so you also didn’t have breakfast.

Melissa watched you walk to the coffee machine and poured yourself a cup. You look pale as a ghost but Melissa isn’t going to ask, the last time she asked about you, you shut her down.

It wasn’t until lunchtime that she got worried. She watched you stumble your kids to the cafeteria, and since she was paying attention to you, she saw you lose your balance a couple times and that you kept grabbing your head. When you came back to your classroom to grade some tests, Melissa was sitting in your chair.

“Melissa, what are you doing here?” You asked her.

“I think you know. You look pale. Did you eat recently?” She asked and you just looked at her. The thing is you need to sit down as you’re really lightheaded.

“Can I have my chair back?” You asked her and she got up. But you took 2 steps and you got dizzy and fainted. The last thing you saw through blurry vision is red hair hovering over you in frantic movements.

You woke up and looked around and realised that you’re in the nurse’s office.

“Oh look who’s finally awake.” A voice said and you looked to your left and saw Melissa sitting on a chair looking at you. She has one leg over the over and her hands on the arm rest of the chair. “I got Mr Johnson and Ava to cover our classes while we talk.”

“Talk about what? And where’s the nurse?” You asked her when you realised she wasn’t here.

“Like I said, we need to talk, in private.” Is all she said. And the look on her face shows she’s in no mood for anything and not going to let you shut her down.

You sighed. “Look Melissa, I’m fine, just forgot to eat and pack a lunch. But I’m fine now.” You went to get up but Melissa got to you and pushed you back to the bed.

She then walked back to the chair and bent down to get something out of her purse. “Here, after I brought you here I got some food from down the street.” She said and handed you a store bought sandwich. You didn’t take it though, you just looked at her confused. “It’s not poisonous if that’s what you’re worried about.” She said.

“It’s not what I’m worried about.” You said.

“Just take it and eat it. I don’t want you fainting again.” She said and shoved it into your hand. You finally took it and started eating it. “Now I’m going to ask you some questions and I want you to be truthful with me. And before you start getting defensive or try to shut me down, I saw your wrists and you fainted right in front of me.” She said, and if you weren’t already pale then you would have been now.

“You what?” Is all you said and froze about to take a bite of the sandwich.

“I saw them. Do you want to tell me why there’s cuts on your wrists?” She asked and you shook your head and she sighed. “Ok I know why but since you won’t tell me then let me ask you this. Why haven’t you been eating, I think you’ve gone a lot longer than just today of not eating, with how pale you were this morning.” She was really pushing it and you didn’t know what to do, she pieced a lot of things together and has you cornered.

“Can we not do this right now?” You told her, you knew that she won’t let this go and this was going to be a heavy conversation, and you didn’t want to do it at school.

“If not now then when y/n? When things get worse? Because I hate to break it to you, it got worse already.” She said and the tone of voice she was using, almost sounded like fear. Although you don’t know why.

“It can be today but just not here.” You said and looked at your lap. Melissa sighed and you looked back up at her.

“Ok, how about I drive you to my place after school and make you dinner and then you can tell me then?” She proposed and you looked at her confused, you don’t know why she’s doing this for you. “I don’t want you driving if you’ve barely ate. So either way I’m going to drive you. And before you think about it, I already took your car keys.” She said, you looked at her and she began spinning your keys on her finger proudly.

“Alright, but you don’t have to make me anything, I’ll just eat when I get back home.” You told her.

“I always make enough for 12 hun, you’ll eat at my house.” She tells you, leaving no room for argument and you nod. After you ate the sandwich you felt a bit better. You and Melissa went back to your classes and you just had your students read or draw for the rest of the day.

At the end of the day, Melissa came to your classroom to drive you to her place. “Ready to go?” She asked and you nodded, grabbing your bag. You followed her out to the parking lot and to her car. You noticed she kept looking back at you, probably to make sure you aren’t going to faint again.

She drove you to her place and got you to sit on her couch, you did as instructed and just sat there, twiddling your thumbs nervously. And at some point you dozed off because she was shaking you gently and telling you the food was ready. You both ate on the couch, she wasn’t worried about spills as the couch is covered in plastic. After you finished, pretty much inhaled your food, she put your plate on the coffee table then looked at you.

“When was the last time you ate?” She asked first.

“Dinner, the day before yesterday.” You said plainly and she looked at you worried. Well might as well come out and say it. “I’m autistic, and sometimes I forget to do basic things, like eat. It’s not the first time I’ve forgotten to eat, although it’s the first time I’ve fainted. I usually only forget one meal, not a whole day.” You said and she put her arm on the top of the couch, looking at you.

“And what about the cuts on your wrists? Why did you do those?” She asked the burning question.

“To make my brain shut up.” You said and looked down at your hands on your lap.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean the things my brain says on repeat, until I give myself a cut. It won’t shut up until I do, I’ve tried everything else before. This is the only thing that works.” You told her and she looks at you softly.

“Hun, there are so many ways to do that, and harming yourself shouldn’t be one.” She said and put a hand on your knee and began gently rubbing your knee. “What does your brain tell you on repeat?” She asks and a tear rolls down your cheek.

“3 words, lazy, useless, unlovable.” You said as another tear rolled down your cheek.

“Hun, you aren’t any of those things. When did this start? The words in your head and the cutting?”

“When I was 15. I couldn’t keep handling it. It got to the point where I was ripping my hair out. And then one day the voice in my head was telling me those words when I went to reach for a fork, got distracted and picked up a knife, from the pointy end. And as I watched the blood trickle out and down my arm, the voice went away for a whole day. And then the next day when they came back, I experimented and gave myself a small cut, and it worked. I only started doing it once a week, then that slowly turned into multiple times a week and then everyday, I like to call it little droplets of relief. I only ever gave myself small ones so I can cover them up with something, especially in the summer. But last night I cut too deep by accident.” You told her and she looked at you sympathetically. “I got diagnosed when I was 17, but by then it was too late.”

“And why don’t you ever let people in? You keep them at a distance.”

“People they leave, at one point or another. People always leave when I get close and it hurts. So to not get hurt, I don’t get close. It’s easier and less painful that way.”

“Hun, you shouldn’t be dealing with this by yourself. Everyone needs someone.” She tells you.

“I don’t need anyone, I’ve been fine by myself. It’s better that way for everyone anyway.”

“What do you mean it’s better for everyone?”

“I mean that I stay away and don’t need people, and they don’t have to deal with me.” You told her.

“Do you really think you’re so unlovable that someone wouldn’t want to be there for you?” She asks and you look at her with tear stained cheeks and nod. “Well from what I know about you, you’re a pretty great person who tries to take on too much by herself and doesn’t give herself a break.” She tells you and you lift your legs and pull them close to your body and hug them. Melissa thinks you look so small and vulnerable, it broke her heart that someone can think those things about themselves when they’re a good person. “I think you’re good enough.” She simply tells you and you look at her surprised.

“Why would you say that when it isn’t true?” And your voice is almost a whisper and you’re about to cry.

“Because it is true, you are good enough and you shouldn’t think otherwise.” She tells you and you start crying. “Can I hug you?” She asks you and you look at her and sniff, then nod your head as more tears roll down your cheeks. She brings you closer to her and you put your legs down and off the couch. Melissa wraps her arms around you and starts rubbing your back soothingly. You don’t know what to think at first about her hugging you, it’s been so long since someone has touched you, not even a hug for over 5 years. And you realise that you miss it, you miss physical contact with people. And you wrap your arms around Melissa’s waist and hold on tight as you continue to cry. You fall asleep in her arms and she doesn’t have the heart to move you, so she leans down on the couch and reaches for the blanket that’s on the top and puts a pillow under her. She drapes the blanket over you both and she falls asleep.

After that day, Melissa has taken it upon herself to help you, help you cope in healthier ways. Both of you try different ways and at first nothing seems to work, then after a few more tries. You found something, and you don’t know how you didn’t think of it before. The one thing you found that helped, was the one thing you never had before, someone there to rub your back or hug you or just there to listen to you. You started getting better and you kept finding more ways to help, like fidget spinners, earplugs, a rubber ball to squeeze if you need to squeeze something due to intense emotions.

And with Melissa helping you, you began to open up to her and you let her open up to you. And after some time feelings appeared, and you freaked out. You didn’t know how to deal with it, you’ve had small crushes before but the last time was in high school before you cut people out. And at this point you relapse after 3 months straight of not giving yourself a cut. The voices in your head only said one thing, one word now instead of 3, unlovable. You take a knife and drag it across your wrist, of course Melissa wouldn’t want you, she’s only helping you to be nice, nothing more. You did another cut and watched the blood flow down your arm. The voice didn’t stop and it got louder. You went to your other wrist and did the same thing, 2 cuts, but it still wasn’t working. You did it again, only this time, you made a mistake, you cut too deep and you were losing blood. You got lightheaded quickly and passed out.

And that was how Melissa found you a minute later as she came to your house every day to watch shows together or to chat. She opened your door with the key you gave her and she found you passed out on the ground, blood dripping from your wrist.

“Y/N! No no no!” She ran to you and tried to shake you awake and you wouldn’t, she checked your pulse and thankfully you were still alive but weak. She ran to your bathroom and grabbed towels and applied them to the cut and put pressure to try and stop the bleeding. And thankfully it did. As soon as it stopped, she went to get bandages and wet paper towels. She cleaned your arm up and then wrapped your arm with the bandage. She then picked you up and carried you to your bed and laid you down, then she sat on the other side of the bed and stayed with you until you woke up.

You woke up a couple hours later. You opened your eyes and blinked a couple times, you looked to your side and you see Melissa there. She hasn’t noticed you awake yet. She’s hugging herself and looks deep in thought. You call her name.

“Melissa?” You croak out and she snaps out of her head and looks at you. She looks happy to see you awake and then she gets angry.

“What the hell were you thinking!? I thought you were passed this?!? And then I find you on the ground with blood coming out of your arm!!” She yelled at you and you looked at her with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, it just happened.” You tell her.

“I thought you were dead y/n! Do you understand that? And you could have if I didn’t show up when I did.” She tells you and you look at your arm, it’s now bandaged up. “I was able to stop the bleeding and patch you up. I almost called an ambulance.” She tells you and you snap your head to her. Too think that you were so close to death and you have her to thank. “Why did you do it? Why didn’t you try something else? We’ve been able to find different ways, healthier ways, not dangerous ways.”

“I tried but none of them worked and I only meant to give myself a little one, but the voice didn’t stop repeating that one word and it got louder and louder.” You tell her.

“What word?” She asks you.

“Unlovable.”

“Y/n, I’ve told you many times that it’s not true, many people will grow to love you if you let them.” She tells you genuinely.

“What about you?”

“What about me?” She asks confused.

“You wouldn’t love me. I mean you’re only helping me to be nice. No other reason.” You tell her and you look at your hands.

“Y/n, I’m helping you because believe or not, I care about you. I’m your friend.” She tells you and you can’t help it, as soon as she says friend, it spills out.

“Ya, and that’s all you’ll ever be.” You snap a bit.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She asks, she has no idea where any of this is coming from.

“Forget it, forget I said anything.” You tell her trying to backtrack, you’re not going to tell her how you feel. You don’t want to ruin this friendship with her over something stupid as your feelings for her. But Melissa pushes you, she’s not going to back down, not after finding you like she did.

“No, you’re not going to do this again. Tell me what you mean. Please.” She tells you. She almost begs you at the end.

“It means that you’ll never be more than a friend.” You tell her like it’s obvious.

“What else would I be?” She asks, still confused. And then you look at her and she looks into your eyes, and she sees the hurt and fear. And then she figures it out. “Y/n, do you have feelings for me?” She asks gently and you close your eyes and nod. You don’t want to see her reaction when she rejects you and then leaves. But she doesn’t do either. To your surprise she cups your cheek. You open your eyes and look at her in shock. “I’m not going anywhere. And if I’m being honest, I have feelings for you too.”

“I thought you were straight?!?” You tell her and she giggles.

No, I’m bisexual, I’ve dated girls here and there but nothing ever stuck.” She tells you and moves the hand that’s on your cheek to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and you lean in. Your lips land on hers and she kisses you back. You think that this is where you’re meant to be, with her, with Melissa. She’s your shining light. “Is that what happened? Did you realise you have feelings for me and the voice in your head happened?” She asked suddenly and you nod. “Oh Bella, I wish you would have told me what was going on.” She tells you and your heart does a flip at the nickname.

“I will next time, before I do anything.” You tell her

“You promise?” She asks and you nod. She sticks her pinky out and you lock yours with hers in a pinky swear. “You can never break a pinky swear.” She tells you and you laugh.

“I pinky swear to come to you before I do anything stupid.” You tell her and that satisfies her. And she puts an arm around you and brings you to her and you cuddle on her chest, listening to her heartbeat. And this you think, are your new droplets of relief.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta ,@imaginesmultifandoms

If you wish to be added to the taglist then let me know :)

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x oc #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti #x reader #fanfic

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hsslilly-blog · 1 month ago

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claire swanson lore dump. i tried to be concise, so i linked to posts i've made before for context (and archival purposes). still very long. i'm open for asks! here’s her immediate family tree. here’s her masterlist, with a chronological overview. everything is under the cut.

background/lore

Claribel Marie Swanson (she/her) was born in Santa Barbara, California, on February 14th, 1990. She’s the single daughter of Christina Murray, a failed-actress-turned-nurse-turned-housewife, and Werner Swanson Jr., a psychiatrist and (at the time of her birth) university professor. Her paternal grandfather made a fortune selling engagement rings in the late 40s and since then the Swansons have lived very comfortably.

She was named after the character from The Tempest, as both her parents are fond of Shakespeare. Marie because her family is Catholic, but Mary didn’t fit her French-sounding first name.

Her parents met while working in a hospital, then got married in 1988. Claire was a planned pregnancy, by which I mean she is an IVF baby. No fertility issues involved. She arrived 9:47 AM, caesarean. From the moment she was born, her parents knew exactly what they wanted her to be, although their expectations weren’t in agreement; Christina saw in Claire a second chance of her dreams coming true, while Werner envisioned a more traditional career path to his daughter, akin to his own. If only they had talked at some point. But alas.

From age three, Claire had acting, dancing and singing lessons. Her mother made it her mission that Claire had the best training, attended every single audition for every role available and had as little free time as possible. By age seven, Claire had perfected her smile. By age nine, she called herself a ballerina. By age eleven, she wanted to be a full-time actress; she starred in an indie film called ‘Marigold’ around this time, in a very small part.

Her father wasn’t very pleased with his wife’s efforts at grooming Claire into an acting career, since it obviously hindered his plans of grooming Claire into an academic career. So, when Claribel turned 12, he told his wife that Claire was already old enough to make her own decisions and that, actually, she preferred biology anyway, so maybe Christine should back off. Animosity brews. This man isn’t even at home half of the time. What does he know about Claire?

Not sure. What Claire knew, however, was that her father was finally here and he was paying attention to her. So, yeah, she loved biology! And she did: from an early age, Claire was interested in genetics and she’s had a fondness for insects for as long as she can remember. Getting a break from constant auditions and being able to choose when she pursued her acting ambitions was a welcome change as well. Claire focused on academics for a while, but still acted: she joined Santa Barbara's Lit Moon Theatre Company at 14. She got diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder at 15. She was in drama club, cheer team, and was valedictorian of her graduating class. Claire is proficient in Spanish and took French in high school.

Claire met her best friend Donna Ryder in elementary school. They’ve been inseparable since. In high school, Claire constantly begged Donna for more pages in the yearbook. They loved driving around Santa Barbara in Claire's car after curfew hours. Then, she met Sebastian Ballion, her other half (platonically) in middle school. He was her first everything. By which I mean OBVIOUSLY that he was her first director. They had big dreams together; she starred in lots of his short films throughout high school, and he was the one to come up with Platinum Blonde Claire when she was 17. A visionary.

On October 13th, 2005, Claire and Sebastian headed to the Swansons’ beach residence in Malibu for the weekend. There, she found her father in a compromising situation with his secretary. He bribed her into silence and she got a nice trip to Jersey with Donna and some new clothes. This, though, only delayed the inevitable: her parents separated by late 2007 and finalised their messy divorce in November, 2008. Claire doesn’t know how her mom found out, and as guilty as she was for hiding it from her, she’s glad she wasn’t the one to tell.

This all happens around the time Claire is preparing to go to university (2008). With her father drifting away (literally, as he moved out), plus financial “incentive” (he'd pay for her tuition as long as she pursued something other than performing arts), Claire decided to major in biology. She got into SJSU and moved to the Bay Area. Being out in the world without the tutelage of either her parents was very liberating; you can bet Claribel wreaked havoc during that time. She’s always been very Claire, but it’s around this time she grew into Claire. She got more confident, more tactless, more charming and more reckless. She got a job as a drive-in waitress while living there. She had an abortion at some point. She loved going out dancing. And she loved being surrounded by queer people, as it was around this time she felt comfortable calling herself bisexual. I think Claire was happy here.

After graduating from SJSU, Claire had plans of going to med school at UCSF, but in May, 2012 she received an acceptance letter to Hollywood University, which she did not remember applying to. She packed her bags, moved to L.A. and decided to major in performing arts, finally. Soon after, her father found out about it and cut her out/disinherited her. Bummer. Anyway, she had a Mysterious Benefactor now.

As for Hollywood U: most posts I make take place in an around her third year at HWU, in 2014/2015. You may notice my relationship with HWU is very "playing with dolls". I move a lot of plot elements around: for example, Bianca's ploy to get Claire expelled happens in her third year, around Oct/2014. Clash at Sunset comes out in Jan/2015. And I ignore what I consider stupid (which means you will NOT see the studio plotline on my profile). Claire is very close to Addison and Ethan, and sees Lisa as a younger sister. She starts dating her stupid professor by Dec/2014-Early 2015. This is good and appropriate and Claire is not an archetypal femme fatale (this man will lose his job).

claire's little head

Claire has a complicated relationship with her parents. Her mother never felt like a mother to her, filling more of a role of an older sister. She was her mother’s perfect little doll, a medium to live vicariously through. Meanwhile, her father was emotionally and (due to work) physically distant. She was her father’s strange creation, a successor desperate to be recognised as more than that. She grew up in a weird environment. Very privileged (which she is glad for), but very cold. She had her entire life planned out for her by her parents. Different paths. She escaped one and followed the other, tried escaping it too… only to fall back into the first. Her entire life has been directed, in a way, by other people. She is not aware of this (yet). Is Claire a role she plays?

These dynamics made her develop a profound need of approval from others; if she’s good- if she’s really, really good, then maybe they will love her. She needs to impress people. Attention = love. She needs the spotlight. When her mother clapped at her opening nights, she knew she loved her. When her father nodded after seeing her report cards, she knew he loved her. Most of her relationships (platonically or otherwise) are defined by this.

So, Claire has no body image issues, but she does have self-esteem issues; being overly confident often correlates with compensation. She feels innately unlovable. She doesn’t know what’s wrong with her (because there must be something wrong with her). She works really hard to make people like her, love her maybe. She masks, then masks again. Romantically, she craves attention from her partners, but she has to work for that attention; if it’s too easy, she’s not interested. If it’s too easy, something is wrong (it’s never been easy?!). She uses her sexuality in her favour, but that's not a healthy behaviour.

Nowadays (as in, 2014), Claire is in good terms with her mother, but she doesn’t feel close to her. Christine invites her for brunch and margaritas and gives her TMI about her love life. As for her father, they don’t talk.

Claire has had many romantic relationships throughout her life, and this is important to her character. In no chronological order, and non-exhaustively, I'll list some of the men she has dated: Sebastian (inconclusive)(17), her first agent (33), guy running for U.S. Senate (45), her therapist (37), her parents' divorce lawyer (52), Chris Winters (31), her married tennis instructor (47), Italian F1 driver (32). Claire likes putting men in situations, but she is not an archetypal femme fatale. She dated her SJSU roommate Sabrina for a while. She had a situationship with Madeline, lead singer of a goth band and fellow HWU student. All of these were whirlwind relationships and very short lived.

She feels very lonely! She's always surrounded by people, but she desperately craves connection. She feels misunderstood. This is due to a combination of what I've written here + people's (especially men's) perception of her + her ASD diagnosis. I'll link these two other posts about her personality + relationships. Sorry! At the end of the day Claire is, like, just a normal person with lots of flaws and failings, and lots of good things as well. But she'll never get what she wants as long as she keeps pursuing people who put her in a pedestal. They go to bed with Gilda, but wake up with me. She's setting herself for failure. She's not being sincere with them, and, mostly, with her.

that's it for now. i could write about her forever. but i'll end here! this was mostly to centralise all the information in one place, as her lore was very scattered around my profile.

#oc: claire swanson #hollywood u #hwu mc

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sixxteenbullets · 1 year ago

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hi!! if ur requests were open, if not thats fine!! i was possibly wondering if u could possibly write a henry bowers x masc reader? basically where the reader recently gets diagnosed with autism, and some assholes make fun of them for it, henry finds them crying in the bathroom and comforts them? if not that's fine!! thank u!!

DIFFERENT

PAIRING- HENRY BOWERS X MASC!FEM!READER

SUMMARY- Y/n was used to being made fun of for being different. She didn't dress like the other girls in her school, nor did she really act like them either. But when people find out about her diagnosis with autism and decide to poke fun at that? It certainly hit a nerve. Not only did this bother her, but it apparently bothers the biggest bully in the school and even brings out a softer side of him. BLURB.

WARNINGS- SWEARING, VIOLENCE, BULLYING, SLIGHT BEVERLY SLANDER (purely for plot, I love her)

A/N- Requests are always open, I just might not get to them very quick or even at all if the plot isn't what I'm comfortable with. Also, if you wanted a male reader, I'm sorry but I don't write that right now (maybe once I get more into writing I'll try)so the reader is female, just masculine. I also chose to stay pretty in character for Henry, take that how you will.

She didn't know why her dressing differently struck such a nerve in the guys at her school. It's not like she wore anything offensive. Why did it matter if she didn't wear skirts as tiny as Gretta's or shirts as right as Beverly. It wasn't effecting anyone.

Y/n got used to the picking though. She knew what it meant to be different in her time and eventually grew indifferent to the harmful words or physical actions.

What she wasn't used to, however, was a particularly bad group of boys going through her medical records at the drug store and finding that only says before, she was diagnosed with autism. That's when it really got bad.

The news spread around so fast, the morning of the day after, everyone in school knew about it. All day she had paper balls and pencils thrown at her head, words she'd never heard directed at her, and she'd even been shoved into her locker more times than she cares to remember.

It was only until the fifth period, after lunch, did she realise that it affected her more than what she led herself to believe. This realization grounded her in the girls bathroom, cigarette loosely hanging from her lips.

Y/n never smoked much, only when she was trying to seem cool or trying to piss off people around her, but the moment seemed worthy. The unfamiliar mass of smoke going in and out of her lungs was welcomed. Every puff that has the back of her throat aching and her tongue dry was her method of distraction from the tears burning her eyes and the reoccurring urge to puke in her belly.

Every word said to her replayed in her mind as every bruise on her body ached. The pain was just as appreciated as the tears. It was as if she deserved it. Overall, she knew she shouldn't feel bad about it, it wasn't like there was anything wrong with it, but insults can only be ignored so much.

These thoughts distracted her from the creaking door of the bathroom, which opened and closed with unneeded force. She only looked up when the sound of footsteps clicked in her mind. Her head shot up, tears unwillingly falling, and she was met with the strange sight of Henry Bowers. Henry fucking Bowers.

She panicked, immediately thinking that he was there to fuck with her. He had always kept his pack of boys at bay when it came to her, but she knew of the horrors he'd done.

When she expected him to begin his bullying, he didn't. Instead, he trotted over to where she sat down and leaned back against the wall. Crossing his arms and sighing deeply.

Y/n watched him wearily through teary eyes. Every movement of his alarmed her. What the fuck was he going to do? It appeared like he was working up the nerve to do something, maybe spew more insults, bang her head against the wall and ditch.

Then, finally, he broke the tension filled silence. "Ya' know, who gives a fuck,"

The words spiked a confusion in her, making her draw her brows together and stare as he went on.

"So fucking what you dress different, fuck those assholes. Why don't you fight back?"

It took a while for her to reply due to the shock that dominated her mind. "S' not that easy for me."

It wasn't. She had barely any friends, none who would defend her, and she couldn't fight anyone herself. And let's be honest, that's how everything is fixed now. Fight for it or let it happen, that's just how it was.

"Just because you don't dress like some of those sluts." Was she dreaming? Or was Henry Bowers comforting her? If so, he wasn't very good at it. Though, she didn't really expect that he would be. "Or are fucking different."

"Are... You comforting me?"

His head shot to her and he has a look on his face that made it seem like he was offended at the accusation. Once he took in her disheveled state, his eyes softened slightly. When his response never came, she asked something different.

"Why?" Her voice was so quiet, as if she was scared to ask.

To be honest, he didn't really know why he was being so nice. It wasn't often in his nature to be nice, not right away, anyways. If he did happen to choose kindness, it was someone he trusted, but he only knew the basics about Y/n.

The soft feeling within him was foreign, but not unwelcome, as much as it alarmed him to let his guard down. He sunk down next to her, stretching his long legs out. "Shut up."

As unneeded as the rudeness was, she wasn't mad. In fact, a small giggle left her lips. He was being nice to her and he was horrible at it. She didn't know what his home life was like, but she knew it was bad, so there was no reason to be upset with his poor ways of comforting.

The tears left her eyes red and cheeks damp, but they were gone. Her head rolled to the side and she looked at him. Did he always have such a cute nose? As these types of questions arose in her brain, other things came up as well. Things that never stuck out to her were now as clear as day. Faint bruises at the base of his neck, a jagged scar peeing out from his hairline, a sort of wildness in his eyes as he glanced around the empty bathroom.

As if a puzzle came together, she realised the rumors were true. Henry's dad wasn't only drunk, but he was a damn abuser.

"I'm sorry about your dad." It wasn't necessary in her nature to be comforting either, but he sure as hell needed something.

"Sorry about those kids sticken' their nose in your business."

"Thank you." Very, very slowly and very, very hesitantly, hee pinky overlapped his, which was resting on the floor between them.

While he did nothing to egg it on, he did nothing to oppose her affection.

"Fuck them." He muttered one last time.

"Fuck them." She agreed.

----------

Choppy, messy, ooc, late. I have new writer syndrome.

I think I'm depressed.

#time to kms #henry bowers x reader #henry bowers #patrick hockstetter #belch huggins #it #it 2017 #victor criss #bowers gang #bowers gang x reader

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dmitri-smerdyakov · 2 years ago

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Fuck JK Rowling but it makes me so angry to think we could have had a complete Fantastic Beasts series with an autistic lead who isn’t a total stereotype, who is loveable, who has a love interest instead of just being infantilised…and instead we’re getting a seven season Harry Potter reboot/remake that no one asked for or wanted on HBO Max.

When I was going through the process of my autism diagnosis, feeling anxious and worried about what being diagnosed would mean, knowing that Newt Scamander - a character who is adored by so many in a major franchise - was being played as autistic helped me tremendously. I saw much of myself in Newt, and it made me feel seen that an autistic person like myself could be the hero, that Newt wasn’t a joke or stereotype. It was so important to me coming to terms with my diagnosis that a character I loved was like me and not limited by being autistic.

I’ve mentioned this before but on the opening day of Fantastic Beasts: The Secrets of Dumbledore in the UK, there was a boy on the row in front of me. When Newt came onscreen, he started bouncing and flapping his hands excitedly - like me, he was autistic and saw himself represented on the big screen.

“But Luna Lovegood” - you know what, controversial but fuck your “but Luna Lovegood”. Her actress sided with the TERF, and Luna is NOT confirmed to be autistic, it’s just a popular fan headcanon. Meanwhile Newt Scamander has been confirmed by Eddie Redmayne (not JKR, fuck her) to be on the spectrum. I’m not saying she definitely isn’t because I can definitely see it, and it’s wonderful autistic people can relate, but I’m talking about a character who is intentionally written and portrayed as autistic instead of just fan headcanons.

What does having a love interest have to do with this? Believe it or not, this isn’t me just being a shipper: too often are autistic people infantilised, as if we can’t love other people or that people are incapable of loving us. But - as anyone following me most likely knows - Newt Scamander has a love interest, Porpentina “Tina” Goldstein, who he’s canonically married to in the future. They even have a grandson who is called Rolf and marries the aforementioned Luna.

In the three films, we only got a few scenes (and then JK Rowling cut Tina out because Katherine Waterston called her out on multiple occasions for being a transphobe) of Newtina but what we got showed that not only is Newt capable of forming a romantic attachment but also Tina clearly loves Newt as he is, quirks and all. She understood his odd compliment of “salamander eyes” because she knows his special interest is magical creatures and it’s his way of saying he adores her eyes. She read his book and genuinely made an effort to learn because she knew magical creatures were important to him, and we saw her grow from thinking he was writing an “extermination guide” to giving him the name for his book, “Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them”. My girl Tina LOVES Newt for who he is and always has, and that’s beautiful.

Seeing an autistic person not only fall in love - he spends the whole of the 2nd and 3rd films lamenting on how beautiful she is, talking about her and with her picture in his pocket/suitcase - but also being loved for who they are is something so rarely seen and is so important.

I’ll be the first to hold my hands up and say that the second and third Fantastic Beasts movies weren’t the greatest, by the way. I will agree to that. The first one seems like a damn masterpiece in comparison, even with its problems, but I’m still angry.

The fact that JK Rowling’s bigotry has contributed to losing this rare example of autistic representation in a major mainstream franchise is something no one talks about when discussing her actions, and it hurts that no one seems to care about canon autistic representation.

#this was prompted by me rewatching the first two films whilst sick last week #I tweeted this out last week but felt it relevant to post here #fantastic beasts and where to find them #newt scamander #eddie redmayne #autism #actually autistic #tina goldstein #porpentina goldstein #katherine waterston #newtina #fantastic beasts: the crimes of grindelwald #fantastic beasts: the secrets of dumbledore #newt x tina #anti jk rowling #anti jkr #radfems dni #terfs dni

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the-whispers-of-death · 11 months ago

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Shelter Me, Please

Pairing: John Price x GN!Reader Summary: A thunderstorm is starting and Reader needs comfort from the sound of thunder. In their attempt to find shelter from their growing panic, they stumble into a certain captain's office. Word Count: 1,152 words Content: Fluff, Price being so soft he might be a little ooc, desi!Reader, autistic!reader, fear (but not graphic), an alarming amount of petnames (sweetheart & darling). Author's Note: I got up and out of bed while trying to sleep at midnight to write this, because the Price brain rot is real. I love him so much.

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You shuffled inside the base alongside several other soldiers as thunder boomed, your brown skin starting to get wet from the light drizzle that was no doubt about to get heavier. It was the start of one of the rainiest days of the spring in the UK, and you hated it.

The base was abuzz as other soldiers meandered in the hallways, talking with their friends as they contemplated whether or not this thunderstorm would be bad enough that the higher-ups would cancel any upcoming missions until the rain died down. It was all everyone could think about: whether or not their new missions would still continue.

Well, everyone except you.

You couldn’t think about missions or how long you all were practically forced to be inside for. Your thoughts were on the thunderstorm and how you’d have to get to your quarters quickly so you could hunker down in preparation.

It came to no surprise that soldiers had an aversion to thunderstorms, the thunder reminding them of battle. But you? You always had an aversion to it, even before your enlistment in the SAS. You hated the rain with a passion, thunder even more so.

You were always more sensitive to loud noises than your peers, more sensitive to smells and textures too. It was unexplainable, the way some smells made you gag and the way some textures made you recoil with disgust. It took until your enlistment for you to finally be diagnosed with autism, explaining much of your… quirks, as your mother liked to call them.

So yeah, you weren’t very excited at the prospect of the rain and the thunder, you knew yourself well enough to know the sounds of thunder was going to be hellish to weather through.

An extremely loud crack of thunder echoed throughout the base and shook the building, sending you stumbling almost blindingly to the first room you could get to, your intention of heading to your quarters being shattered among your sudden panic and need to hide. You hit your side against the wall as your hands shakily turned the doorknob, opening the door to what you hoped would be salvation.

You were hoping to stumble into a supply closet, somewhere empty and not currently in use. Instead, you embarrassingly stumbled into your captain’s office where Captain John Price of the Task Force 141 was currently sitting at his desk, working.

“Sergeant? What’s going on?” Price’s gruff, but gentle voice soared through the air and into your ears, very briefly soothing your panic until yet another thunder boomed throughout the base.

You whimpered, the panic that came with the thunder and the fact that you’ve secretly had a crush on your captain for quite a few months now, sending you shuffling further into the office. “I’m sorry, Captain. It’s the thunder… I was hoping to go to my quarters, but—” Your words were cut off by another bout of thunder, this one closer now.

Price stood up from his desk and opened his arms when you scrambled towards him, his strong arms wrapping gently around you, cradling your trembling form. “Shh, sweetheart. I’m here, you’re safe,” he murmured, pressing the softest and gentlest kiss to your forehead, the scruff of his beard against your skin a feeling you’ve been longing for, for months now.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, your heart racing as you grew so flustered from the way you were trembling in his arms and from how much you had yearned to be held by him just like you were being held right now. “I know you didn’t sign up for helping me through this right now.”

“Don’t apologize, darling.” Price’s large, calloused and warm hand reached up to gently card his fingers through your black, curly hair. He leaned down, nuzzling his cheek against the crown of your head. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than here, making sure you feel safe. We’re a team, we look out for one another.”

Ah, yes. He was just doing this out of the goodness of his heart, because he thought of you as just a member of his team. It was almost comical how easily you had fallen down the line of thinking he might actually reciprocate your romantic affections.

You nodded your head, burying it into his broad chest. “Right,” you said, your voice slightly muffled. “We’re a team.”

Price frowned and even though you couldn’t see it, you could feel it in the way he tilted his head down at you. “Hey now, what’s up with that tone of voice, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Captain.”

“You sounded dejected, just now,” Price insisted gently but firmly, his blue eyes full of concern as his eyebrows furrowed. He thought for a while before it finally dawned on him. “Oh, darling, I didn’t mean it like that.”

He tilted your head up gently so your brown eyes were now looking into his blue ones. “When I said we’re a team, I didn’t mean to say all we are is just team members.”

Just as you were processing his words, another boom of thunder resounded, making you squeeze against him further. He tightened his hold on you, a soothing rumble emitting from him in an effort to calm you back down.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me, Sergeant. The way your eyes can’t seem to look away from me, the way you hang onto my every word.” He leaned in close, his breath hitting your cheek. He was somehow soothing and alluring all at the same time. “I feel the same way, sweetheart. I can’t get you out of my head and I want to take care of you, love you.”

Price visibly gulped, his Adam’s apple moving up and down as his warm hand rubbed your back in a calming manner. “I’m sorry, this isn’t the appropriate time to confess my feelings, you’re flustered by the thunder. But I couldn’t let you continue thinking I don’t feel the same way.” He pressed another gentle kiss to your forehead.

You were speechless, unable to form a coherent sentence between the sound of the thunder and his confession. But you found yourself clinging onto Price, not wanting to let this shift in the relationship fade away like some dream.

You took a deep breath before saying, “When this thunderstorm is over and we have some free time… Perhaps we should go on a date.”

Price chuckled, his own nervousness melting away. With his arms still wrapped around you, he nodded and moved towards the couch in his office. “Deal, darling.”

He settled onto the couch with you in between in his legs, his warmth seeping into you and making you almost forget the thunderstorm raging outside. “For now, though, let’s just get you through this storm. Don’t worry, I’ll be here beside you the entire time. I’m not leaving.”

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated!

#john price #captain john price #captain price #john price x gender neutral reader #captain john price x gender neutral reader #captain price x gender neutral reader #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare 2 #call of duty x reader #desi!reader #autistic!reader #my writing #:)

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sophieinwonderland · 2 months ago

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Hi, “accidental tulpamancer” here. It’s in quotes now because of what you said about potentially having a dissociative disorder. I’m awake now. I made some popcorn in the air popper for breakfast. Not the best breakfast ever, but it was something.

I want to tell you a little bit about myself and my life story as it relates to plurality and potentially having a dissociative disorder. I’m not sure why I’m doing this. You can ignore this if you want. But I trust you and I think you have good intentions. So here goes nothing.

I have always had a fairly… loose connection with the person I’m apparently “supposed” to be. When I was younger, I would wake up and decide that I was a different person today. I would get dressed according to what that sort of person would want to wear. At school, I would sometimes sign the name of the person I was supposed to be for the day instead of my own name on my paper (My teacher would put these papers on the no name board. When I pointed out that they had a name on them, she would say, “but not the one on my class list”. So I stopped doing this.).

I assumed that I would grow out of this. But I didn’t. I would still wake up and pretend to be someone else. Someone who was more powerful than me, someone who was better suited to face the challenges of today. Because I definitely wasn’t. This is when my depression started, and it would only get worse from here. I had dozens of stories I made up about these people, and eventually found D&D and writing fanfiction as an outlet.

I developed a short-lived fascination with psychological case studies. I would check out books from the library on them and read them in my spare time. Most of them were the more “common” disorders. PTSD. Autism. Schizophrenia. But I read one case study on a young girl with DID. She had been kidnapped and abused for 2 years before finally being found, and as a result had 7 different personalities. I remember reading it and thinking about how horrible this was. Even now, when I research dissociative disorders, this girl sticks in my head. Nothing similar has ever happened to me. How could I claim the same or similar diagnosis? Wouldn’t that be an insult to her suffering?

I don’t remember when I first started hearing voices. But it got more and more frequent. They had their own personalities. Some were dangerous, like the one who tried to convince me to develop an eating disorder. But most were friendly. Companions. I told a professional about my symptoms, both about my voices and my paranoia (believing that the world was evil and wanted to hurt me). They said that I checked most of the boxes for schizophrenia. Then they asked if I wanted my voices gone. Like, with medication. I thought hard. And said no. By this time I had already been hospitalized twice for suicidiality. But as bad as things had been, they would have been so much worse without my voices. Without companions to encourage me to live. Because who would they talk to if I was gone? As frustrating as they could sometimes be, I knew I would have already been dead without them. So I wasn’t diagnosed. Because a schizophrenia diagnosis would have meant medication.

I also don’t know when I first heard of plurality. It was most likely through the MOGAI community (yes, I was one of those kids with over 200 genders that trumeds love complaining about). There were a lot of systems in those spaces, and I was encouraged to ask questions in order to be the best ally I could be. And I did consider myself an enthusiastic plural ally. But I never considered myself plural. Not even when I started hearing voices. Because my voices couldn’t control my body. They could ask me to do things and I would do them (example: one of my voices really liked My Little Pony, so I would go to YouTube and put on an episode for them) but it was always me doing the thing. Me in control. As it should be. So no, I wasn’t “multiple people in one body”. I was one person in one body. I just talked to external agents. Until now.

I developed an obsession with this character as a coping mechanism. I would have long conversations with them in my head. Some days I would pretend to be them. Act like them. So I could be more powerful and able to handle the world. Eventually they started talking back. I was very scared. I had heard this was a way to accidentally make a tulpa. But I was still so scared. I got the sense from this being that it lived inside my head. Not external like the other voices. I was scared. I’m supposed to be the only person who owns my body. Because if you don’t own your body absolutely, what do you own? It doesn’t help that the entity I was now sharing a head with was just as mentally disturbed. Things got ugly. Multiple times. And it culminated in yesterday.

I still don’t know where to go or what to do. I’m not sure why I just wrote an entire fricking novel. If you don’t read this I don’t blame you. Anyway, I’m about to make pumpkin bread. Or take a shower because my head is killing me. Or both.

I think that this story alone could supply plegg-culture-is with a whole week of content! 🤪

I mean...

They could ask me to do things and I would do them (example: one of my voices really liked My Little Pony, so I would go to YouTube and put on an episode for them) but it was always me doing the thing. Me in control. As it should be. So no, I wasn’t “multiple people in one body”. I was one person in one body.

"I'm one person in one body but there's someone in my head who really likes My Little Pony so I'll put an episode on and watch it with them but I'm totally not plural." But seriously, this is actually super sweet and wholesome! 💖💖💖

"Voices" Is such an interesting word that we use. It's something that I see a lot of people using and what it means can be very different depending on the person.

There is a common type of hallucination where, as you are falling asleep, you might hear a "voice" speaking to you. Usually just a word or sentence. These types of hallucinations though, They don't have agency. They don't have emotions or a consistent sense of self. They are just sounds generated by your brain.

But it seems like yours could think thoughts and had emotions and things that they enjoyed just like any other person.

And while it is true that voices in dissociative disorders will often present as being internal, there are plenty more examples of them being perceived externally similar to imaginary friends.

But I read one case study on a young girl with DID... Even now, when I research dissociative disorders, this girl sticks in my head. Nothing similar has ever happened to me. How could I claim the same or similar diagnosis? Wouldn’t that be an insult to her suffering?

One important thing to remember about case studies is that they are case studies because of how unique and remarkable they are. People don't usually write case studies up of the unremarkable cases. Or if they do, at least those cases don't get that much attention.

I don't know exactly what you've gone through in your life. But I know that it's not just the absolute most severe and most extreme cases that can result into dissociative disorders.

If you've suffered trauma, that trauma is enough. You wouldn't be devaluing what someone else goes through just by having the same diagnosis as they do.

I think... at a certain level, you probably realize that this line of thinking is illogical. That there can be varying degrees of trauma and that yours doesn't need to be as bad as this one girl's to be valid. But I hope it can help hearing somebody assure you of this.

Because if you don’t own your body absolutely, what do you own?

Nothing. Not completely.

But... maybe that's okay.

I mean, would it really be so bad if you shared your life with others? Body included?

If, some of the times you thought you were pretending to be someone else to make it through the day when you were younger, it was somebody else who was fronting, who was helping take the load off of you and make things easier for you? (Not saying that necessarily is what was happening.)

Maybe "ownership" over the body isn't really worth it. Maybe that's the price of spending your life with others in your head. Of having those wonderful companions who helped you through your darkest days.

If you're a singlet, you get the privilege of total bodily autonomy. It's yours and yours alone. And the price for that autonomy is that you're alone in that body.

Personally speaking, I think if I had to choose between owning a body to myself and having headmates to share my life with, sharing time and sharing the body is a pretty small price to pay. But that's just me.

Best of luck with the pumpkin bread!

#plural #multiplicity #plurality #endogenic #pro endo #pro endogenic #systems #system #system stuff #sysblr #abuse mention #actually plural #actually a system

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