#i mean i do now but my autism had the routine and schedule i needed to keep me going

[gayvampyr]

i hate the idea/trope that poor kids who do well in school don’t need any support when it comes to college, or that they all get full-ride scholarships. i don’t do well in school now that i’m in uni but i was a straight-A student throughout all of middle & high school and i got 1 (one) scholarship for $500/semester, which is less than 5% of my tuition. i didn’t have the opportunities or knowledge a lot of the other wealthier kids had, whose parents and grandparents and siblings had gone to college too. like we don’t all end up getting exactly the help we need, and i know the poor kids who weren’t straight-A students had an even harder time getting into college, if they did at all. it’s rough out here for all of us. the only sure-fire way a kid could get guaranteed financial assistance was if they had knowledge of the system and the time and money to pursue them. it sucks

[mothmanssweetsucculentass]

ZZZ Headcanons

Help this game has taken over my free time I love these characters sm <3 Billy Soukaku and Ellen my beloved

Nicole: has a not so secret hobby of bedazzling anything and everything. It’s a real problem in the Cunning Hares apartment, nothing is safe from pink rhinestones and stickers

Anby: cracked at rhythm games to an alarming degree. Can do a 2 person extremely hard DDR song all by herself

Billy: I don’t know how they did it but they programmed an android with autism. Has his own version of a skincare routine which is basically just maintenance on all of his tiny mechanical parts. Can also gain power multiple ways, including solar power. The apartment complex where the Cunning Hares live had a blackout once and everyone used Billy as a personal charging port. Nicole promised to pay him in Starlight Knight merch.

Nekomata: cuts her own hair and offers to do it for other people. DO NOT trust her when she says she’s good at it

Grace: did gymnastics as a kid which is why she’s able to pull off a ton of backflips and flexible maneuvers in battle

Anton: uses actual cement to keep his hair spikes in shape. Koleda caught him in the act once and instead of chewing him out, she decided to apply some to her own hair and now they’re cement combover gang

Ben: is completely vegan and loves chilling at hot springs a lot. Still sleeps with stuffed animals btw

Koleda: I’m making it canon right now Koleda is trans and you can’t do shit about it. Also has welding as a hobby and made most of her accessories from scratch

Corin: when not in Victoria Housekeeping Co uniform, is a Jfashion junkie. I’m talking super dedicated Lolita fits, menhera inspired clothing, the whole shebang. She ofc designs a lot of her own stuff like her bear backpack and is also responsible for a lot of the accessories Victoria Housekeeping Co wears (Rina’s bows, Ellen’s shark jaw head and neckpieces, Lycaon’s eyepatch and tail straps). She also has a massive crush on Ellen and is too scared to admit it

Rina: has a fur allergy and can’t keep animals around. Which also means she’s allergic to Lycaon. She has to take so much Zyrtec before clocking in but has such a good poker face that Lycaon has no idea. Ellen knows tho

Lycaon: specifically wears the heeled boots and has his odd posture because he’s self conscious about his digitigrade legs, he thinks they’re unsightly for a butler of his standing to have. He also tries to encourage Ellen to wear a long maid dress like Rina does to hide her tail.

Ellen: coincidentally falls into a lot of shark stereotypes. She loves seafood, has to constantly be fidgeting or she feels like she’ll go mad, and the kicker, she gets frenzied around blood, or if the thing she’s fighting puts up a struggle. Corin accidentally cut her hand while repairing her saw blade once and both Lycaon and Rina could barely hold Ellen back once Corin began bleeding. Ellen feels awful for scaring the already timid girl. Corin secretly thought it was hot and would die on the spot if anyone knew that

Soukaku: despite being a huge foodie this girl cannot cook for shit. Is also physically cold to the touch and during the summer her coworkers will ask her to hold their drinks because they’ll stay cold. Soukaku always secretly sneaks sips every time they do this to her.

Miyabi: has the worst sleep schedule known to man. Sometimes you’ll find her awake at 3AM and conked out by 4PM, other times she goes to bed at 8PM and wakes up at 4AM. It’s inconsistent and irregular and a gamble trying to contact her outside of work because she might not even be awake

Harumasa: GAY GAY HOMOSEXUAL GAY. Also pretty cracked at chess and other strategy games. Is also a major old fashioned guy and doesn’t own a lot of modern technology. He’s not into retro or old stuff, he just doesn’t like new stuff

Yanagi: her glasses are fake. When she was younger she needed them, but her vision had naturally gotten better over the years, so she now wears contacts, but for some reason still insists on wearing her glasses. Loses them constantly during battle.

Lucy: even though she was forced to play piano as a kid, she really wanted to be a sporty girl and play stuff like soccer and baseball. Now she has the freedom to take part in the sports she likes and watch them surrounded by the people she likes

Piper: insanely picky eater to the point it drives Lucy up a wall. Is also picky about a lot of other things, like how different fabrics feel, different comfort levels of chairs and beds, girl is a complainer and will always find something to complain about

Lighter: has a side gig as a tattoo artist, has really stable hands too

Soldier 11: has 5 younger brothers, a younger sister, and 2 older siblings who she doesn’t see super often. Has divorced parents who also liked to adopt, which is why she has such a huge family. Her younger brothers love it when she comes home and plays secret agent military with them

Seth: can’t drive. That’s it send tweet.

Qingyi: is outwardly dismissive of meditation tricks and hacks and tips but utilizes that shit in private ALL the time.

Zhu Yuan: shares the vegetables she grows in her garden with all her neighbors. Is also a REALLY good cook to the point people have encouraged her to potentially consider a different career path

Jane Doe: the rat girl has pet rats go figure. But in all seriousness she’d die for her little guys. She has a white one named Cocaine and a brown one named Tobacco and a gray one named Crystal Meth. She thinks the names are hilarious and every time she introduces the rats to other people their facial expressions are priceless

[leidensygdom]

Ok, I'm gonna start a post idea I had been pondering. If you're either mentally or physically disabled and you have opinions about representation, this is the thread for you!

So, I've been seeing more people trying to tackle the topic of autism in their stories, but I've felt some of it tries to woobify a bit what is to live with autism, or just focus on the more socially acceptable quirks of it. And as someone with autism/ADHD (was suspected of it for most of my life, got it finally diagnosed by my therapist (who specializes in autism and ADHD) last year), sometimes I'd like for people to acknowledge the more unsavoury parts of it, the weird quirks, etc.

So, this post is going to be about that- If you wanna help people understand how your disability/neurodivergency affects your life, feel free to add to it! Just mention what do you have (no need for a full list, just what you consider relevant to the post) and some experiences, quirks, anecdotes or such that you think that are not often seen in stories or media, and that you consider an important part of it. They don't need to be huge things! I encourage people to share just whatever they feel comfortable. My list is gonna be a mix of stuff, but yours can be very different. Let me start!

Clothes and how they feel was surprisingly one of the most disruptive parts of my autism. As a kid, if I was forced to wear something that caused me some bad texture/sensitivity issues, it would significantly affect my behaviour and performance. It took me many years to be allowed to use mostly sportswear. (And it turns out being a "girl" (not anymore) wearing only sportswear tends to cause a whole lot of bullying)

This happens even nowadays. I've found out that non-heeled boots are more comfortable to me than sport shoes, because feeling something against the back of my foot makes me feel overwhelmed. I tend to wear yoga pants under actual pants, because they keep the actual pants' seams from causing sensory issues. There's almost a sort of ritual on how do I need to combine clothes to be able to function "normally", mostly consisting on reducing how much they annoy me.

On that topic, hygiene is actually a huge thing too. As a kid, I wasn't allowed to shower daily. Days I didn't shower, no matter how much I tried to keep my hygiene in other days, were "bad days" to me. I would literally plan hanging out with friends or eating out around the days I was allowed to shower. I could physically feel the difference between the day I showered and the day I didn't (even if I washed my face, armpits, used the bidet, etc).

This is true even nowadays. I can thankfully now shower daily, which isn't recommended by a lot of experts (specially because it can damage your hair and skin), but it's more worth to me than having days where I feel like I shouldn't be seen in public.

Being overwhelmed sucks! Meltdowns are mostly associated with kids, mostly because adults either learn to mask them, or do everything they can to AVOID having that meltdown. I've mostly figured out routines and such. There's this one place we go eat out every other Tuesday- And in the hours we go in, there's a sort of silent corner that is always free. This week's schedule was a mess, so we went yesterday to that same place, and the silent corner was filled with a very loud group. I got extremely overwhelmed. But enough masking drilled to me means I just sat there unable to talk for maybe 30 minutes.

Autistic adults still do have autism and experience often the full spread of traits, they've just found ways to mask, or avoid being in situations where they do need to do that. I've adapted my life and routine to that. But sometimes I land on situations out of my comfort zone that will make me feel just like when I was a kid. I want to freelance online because I'm fully aware I can't perform properly in a public facing job.

Group projects sucked so much. I know they suck for most people, but most times it was easier for me to do the entirety of the project by myself and add the others' names to it than dealing with chasing people for their parts. My college had a 6-months-long massive group project in the last year, with a 7 people group, which obviously I couldn't do alone. The whole experience was so harmful in so many ways I've had several full therapy sessions talking about it :'')

One of the reasons it's because mental flexibility is HARD with autism. If i set a schedule, I expect that schedule to be followed. If people agree to do a part, I expect that part to be delivered (unless there's a proper reason) on due time. People hate this a lot usually! It will tear group projects apart!

Stimming can be harmless, or it can be very annoying to some. I tend to shake legs and play with something in my hands. I could easy this off drawing in classes- My high school found out that I was paying more attention when I was allowed to draw in classes, and my academic performance was pretty much perfect, so they gave me permission to do that.

However, I had a teacher in middle school that did forbid me from drawing. I stimmed during a class with pens- She got so mad she sent me home with a note to my parents they had to sign. Fun!

Not exactly an anecdote, but I am ace. I hate the discourse about "making an autistic person be aro or ace is infantilizing autism". Aro/ace people can have autism. That's just how it is. I've been infantilized a lot for being ace- Which only got worse because I am autistic, and people perceived some of my special interests as child-ish. The combo didn't make things easy.

On that topic, people will often be very patronizing of your opinions or takes for being autistic. I've had people debate my sexuality (or lack of thereof), my gender identity and presentation, my hobbies, my preferences for everything, down to "what do you want to eat tonight?". This isn't too different to shitty takes about how "autistic people are more prone to being affected by the trans activistsTM", because people assume autistic people can't choose on their own. Trust me: We can.

Anyhow, I'd love if this post could be a good compilation of these sort of anecdotes! I think it could help people who wanna learn more about what is it to live with specific disabilities (and how to better portray them in media)

[zebulontheplanet]

I am experiencing what I think is autism regression (as does my therapist) and am wondering about your experience and what ways you used to deal with it and if there is any way you know of to work with your limits? (if you aren't comfortable with asks like this let me know)

Hey there! I’m completely comfortable with asks and questions. So, I have autism regression caused by autism catatonia, so it’s a bit different from regular regression or skill regression caused by burnout.

DO NOT use this post to self diagnose regressive autism catatonia. If you suspect you have autism catatonia then reach out to a professional right away.

Autism regression for me is heavily tied to my autism catatonia, so if you’re just looking for regular regression caused by burnout, then I’m not the person to ask about that. My regression started as young as 17, although I’ve always had skill regression in some areas. I’ve always had to keep learning things to keep up with it and keep maintenance. Things like tying your shoes, basic mathematics, basic reading, etc etc. I’d lose skills in them and have to re-learn it, over and over again. My true regression started becoming noticeable when I was 17. It was fairly slow. Started out with sensory issues, then sensory issues turned into loss of control with meltdowns, then that turned into loss of social skills, then that turned into loss of the ability to mask, then that turned into loss of the ability to complete iADLs, then that turned into loss of the ability to complete bADLs, and then loss of ability to communicate verbally and becoming semiverbal, then loss in cognitive and intellectual skills, and then soon, and more recently, loss in all verbal skills and becoming completely nonverbal.

It was a constant one thing after the other. It was slow, and started out subtle. Things like stimming more turned into stimming constantly, masking less turned into not being able to mask at all, etc etc.

Along with this came catatonic episodes, and those were hard to deal with as well. I have some catatonic episodes that last up to a few minutes, to some that last up to an hour. Semi-catatonic episodes are very common for me as well, and it just means that I become increasingly slow in movements, and feel like I’m going through quicksand.

Also what came along was needing prompts for each and every task. Something as simple as taking a bowel of cereal turned into “ok now, you need to take this to your sister. Go take it to your sister now” instead of “ok, this needs to go to your sister, can you take it to her?” And so on. I have to have a lot of help with things, and sometimes hand over hand help with things. It’s very frustrating because I know I can do it, but my body feels trapped and confused and doesn’t understand.

I work with it by having strict schedules and routines. If those routines and schedules get broken, automatically catatonic. I also need intense prompting, and require assistance for what people think are just second nature and “common sense”. Everyone is different, some people definitely need more support then others. And compared to others with autism catatonia, I have mild to moderate autism catatonia. Which says a lot because I need a LOT of support. It just goes to show how bad it can get. I deal with it one day at a time and with the care and support of friends and family.

I hope this answers your question and feel free to ask more! Have a lovely day!

[salamanderinspace]

So tests came back and I do have "mild" sleep apnea, doc says, which apparently means I stop breathing 15 times per hour, and my pulseox goes down to 86. This all sounds pretty bad to me but I've been assured it's mild. At some point the cpap people are going to call me; I guess I get a free trial of the thing for 90 days. I'm pretty pleased about that.

I've been keeping busy this week, working a lot. I've gone to some museums and galleries, talked a lot, made connections. I have a show with my work opening Saturday night here, downtown. I'm making new work too, pretty furiously. It turns out I function very differently when there are not five dog walks and two dog feedings and constant dog "pay attention to me mommy" all day long. At first there was a sort of euphoria as the weight of all that came off my shoulders. Of course I do miss her. I cried so much when she passed that my electrolytes got all messed up and I had a seizure. I'm kind of expecting changes, health-wise, since my daily schedule is so different now. I can really get immersed in work. I can eat a big meal and then sit a few minutes without having to rush off and do the dog. I worry about losing any strength conditioning or fitness I might've gained from walking her, so I've added in more exercises. Overall though my attention span feels so much stronger than it was, now that I can actually make my own plans and do them without being responsible for a very social creature. And the cat is there when I want someone to fuss over.

And husband of course. He's a brick. There are many ways we make good partners. There is only one little piece of me that doesn't quite fit with him, that he doesn't particular want or need anyway. About a month ago I wrested that piece of me away from a place it has not been safe. I don't know if anything is changed, really. I don't like to write about her here because I know she reads this blog sometimes--seems tacky--but I write my feelings here for a reason. I like having a record. It makes things feel more solid. It makes me less alone with everything. And it being all in one place, organized, is helpful. Often I write things elsewhere and then find them, months later, completely having forgotten about them. Not this blog though.

One of the main diagnostic criteria of autism is adhering to rigid routines or repetitive thought patterns. This is not something I associate with me. I love adventure and change and challenge and pizzazz and variety and novelty. I need everyday to be different--I don't even like to eat the same foods. But with relationships, they sort of sink into me and stain deep. Maybe the impetus to write fanfiction comes from that same, "I'm not done with this yet" sort of feeling. Maybe it's a reluctance to trust something new. Most people don't let the deepest part of themselves adhere to just anything, just anyone… I feel like I pick people who are sometimes nice and sometimes mean. Complex. Disorganized. Skeptical. Intense. And overtime the niceness drains away as they come to understand and process who I really am. (just some guy.) (Just a lady.) (Pretty good at art and creative stuff.) (Incurably American.) (Paranoid millennial.) (Used to have a dog.) (Interested in science and politics.) (Chronically ill.) (Sleepy, but maybe that will change when they put the machine on my face.)

[ashleywool]

but getting older means more awkward situations

Turned 37 yesterday. The 34 guilty convictions were a very nice present. Probably the best present I've ever received, including last year, when my present was a literal Broadway contract (ok, technically we found out on June 22, but tomato/tomahto).

A less nice present was the letter from my building management informing me that if I renew my lease (which I won't), my rent will be raised to what would have been 33% of my net income if HTDIO was still running. It was about 29% before, which is still a lot, but worth it for the ability to have no roommates in a decent apartment.

And when I say "decent," I mean decent in that it checks most of the basic boxes amenable to a reasonable quality of life. That is, if you don't mind having a walkup with a perpetually dysfunctional kitchen ceiling light, a radiator that you can't turn on, water damage on the ceiling due to other people's radiator dysfunction, construction outside your window during the day, aggressively loud pedicabs in the evening, and squeaky garbage trucks at 1am. So basically, a decent quality of life for heavy sleepers (which I am not) with fully functional body temperature regulation (again, not me) and no mobility issues whatsoever (I do check that box, at least for now).

The plus sides are: it's right in Hell's Kitchen, and within walking distance to most of the places I regularly go, it's a reasonably sturdy and non-fire-hazardy building for its age (which means I feel comfortable leaving my cats there) with functional plumbing and electricity (except the kitchen ceiling light), never had a pest problem, the refrigerator and microwave are brand new and excellent quality, the oven is younger than me, although it's small, and only one of the burners doesn't work.

I'm no stranger to the horror stories of NYC apartment living. I know I'm still more privileged than most to live in a place that's decent.

But it's not "you need a six-figure income and perfect credit just to APPLY to live here" decent.

It's not "you owe $9K in deposits and broker fees before you even move in" decent.

It's not "you must have either consistent exorbitant wealth or significant supplementary generational wealth in order to stay here" decent.

"So just get a job. Just get a roommate. Just put up with more problems. Suck it up. Or move back in with one of your parents again."

Sure. Okay. I'd love to. But.

When the minimum wage is $16 an hour, this isn't a "just get a job" problem.

When you're a highly trained professional at the highest level of your field and you're unemployed because corporate landlords were mad that your show wasn't selling $800 tickets in the middle of January like your neighbors at Merrily, this isn't a "just leave the industry" problem.

When finding a new career that would pay anything near what you need to live in this city would require taking out a small fortune in student loans to get another degree just to qualify for entry-level jobs that still won't pay your bills until you significantly advance, this isn't a "you majored in theatre, what did you expect" problem.

When you're autistic and chronically fatigued, fastidious about cleanliness and clutter, and religiously adhere to schedules and routines and predictability in your own space, this isn't a "just get a roommate" problem.

When you are a more-famous-than-average individual whose autism is directly tied to the things you're best known for, and Reddit is full of nightmare stories about what it means to have an autistic roommate, and Reddit is also rife with lies and rumors about you specifically, this isn't a "just get a roommate" problem.

And while I love my parents and have great relationships with both of them and they are doing everything they can to support me...for complicated logistical and personal reasons that are none of the Internet's business, "just move back in with your parents" is not a super helpful solution either.

But if I don't find a miracle between now and the end of August, that's probably what I'll end up doing.

And the crazy thing is, the fact that that's even an option for me STILL makes me more privileged than MOST people.

Nobody should have to face the situation I'm facing, and yet millions of people--especially disabled people--face this and worse, with far less support than I have. A cornerstone of my advocacy has been pointing out this inequity as often as I can, and trying to use my privilege and platform to help and amplify people who don't have those resources.

At this point in my career, I am supposed to be throwing down the ladder. Instead, and in spite of everything, I'm clinging to the ladder for dear life while the rungs crack beneath my feet.

And it all comes down to the landlords.

Legislation that limits the acquisition power and earning power of property owners, and enacts strict rent caps for residential AND business buildings, would solve 98% of my problems and approximately 75% of everyone else's problems in this city. (Please don't quote me on these statistics, they are sourced directly from my ass and are for idealistic illustrative purposes only.)

Anyway. Um.

34 felony convictions is still a beautiful thing.

[spinobsessed]

Support Needs

I was diagnosed with level 2 autism, that means I have substantial support needs. I’ve never really understood what that meant, I tried searching it up on Google, TikTok, Twitter, and here but I couldn’t find an explanation as to what it means to be level two or have “substantial” support needs. I realized I had to look at myself, at all the ways my problems are solved by help from others or myself, to understand. I’m going to be vulnerable for a moment here

My mom has to occasionally help me shower, whether that be motivating me to do so and physically helping me (more when I was in the midst of seasonal depression) or just standing in the bathroom with me sometimes like she does now.

I have accommodations at school for whenever I need a break from something overstimulating or if I need an assignment better explained to me/altered a bit to help me out (ex. I can have a paper version instead of doing it online, I did my history final this way)

My parents let me wear my headphones everywhere, although it’s a bit annoying for them whenever I’m listening to smth and they call me but I don’t hear them. Once we went to a restaurant and where we were sitting was obviously too loud and I was trying to self soothe so they asked the waiter if we could sit someplace else

If my plan goes wrong or my routine can’t be done then my parents help me to figure out something if I can’t do it on my own

My dad cooks the same breakfast -and currently lunch- for me everyday and both him and my mom dont make too much of a fuss abt my picky food taste. They mostly respect that I don’t want to try new things and that eating in general can be stressful for me, I worry abt when I’m on my own and have to work cooking and grocery shopping and all that stuff into my schedule

I still sleep in the same bed as my mom, I physically can’t fall asleep on my own. This is probably more out of growing up sleeping in the same bed as my parents than my autism but still. In 6th-7th grade I wanted to sleep in my own bed in my own room, I had to stay up until I physically couldn’t anymore in order to sleep

My mom helped/helps me with my hygiene in the past and now, she rubs this cream on my face as skincare and also does my hair every morning

These are just what I can remember now, my everyday life is full of this stuff and I worry abt how I’m going to deal with all of it on my own. It feels like such a monstrous task to take on on my own and I feel bad for being so reliant on them at 15. Other girls my age are being responsible for their younger siblings, able to braid their hair (black girl braids), and some even have jobs

All the things my parents do are totally doable, I am capable it’s not like there’s anything physically wrong with me that makes me unable to complete these tasks. Whenever I ask myself “why does this look so hard? Why can’t you just do it?” All I can answer is that I simply don’t know

[seasickzig]

Autism

I was diagnosed with autism at 20 years old, after 3 years of suspecting and research. I had a psych eval where I was not diagnosed because I “could make eye contact” and “had average math skills,” neither of which are in the diagnostic criteria. I was diagnosed shortly after that by my therapist, who could tell I was having a decline in my mental health after I stopped preforming autistic self care (partaking in special interest, stimming, listening to sensory needs, etc.).

For the DSM5 criteria that I meet, we’ll start with section A, where all three deficits in social interaction need to be seen for a diagnosis.

1) Difficulties with reciprocity in conversation. I am bad at back and forth in conversation. I cannot tell when it is my turn to speak, and in small talk, I often don’t care to ask the other person what they think of the weather because I simply don’t care.

2) Struggles with nonverbal communication. I often can tell that someone is trying to send me a secret message with the way their face is shaped, but I cannot tell what that message is.

3) Hard time making and/or maintaining friendships. I have gotten better at this as I get older, especially since I tend to make exclusively neurodivergent friends. However, making friends is still very hard for me. Unless someone shares an interest with me, I don’t know what we’re supposed to talk about or do when hanging out.

Now for section B, where only 2 of 4 restrictive behaviors are needed for a diagnosis (I’ll list all of them, though, because I experience all of them.)

1) Repetitive movements or speech. This just means stimming, which I do very frequently. I flap my hands, jump, rock, and repeat phrases. I definitely do more, stims tend to evolve over time with what the brain finds satisfying.

2) Need for routine and sameness. I make a plan for how the day will go at the beginning of the day, and if it strays from my plan, then I will have a meltdown. I can often deal with fitting new things into the day, but things being cancelled will stress me out a lot.

3) Special interests! These can be a lot more versatile than people think. It’s not always having extensive knowledge on a topic, sometimes it’s collecting things! My special interests are psychology, Sherlock, and weird-core things (this is mostly a collection hobby!). I only like to have conversations if they involve my special interests, and I will often accidentally direct a conversation towards my special interest on accident.

4) Hyper or Hypo reactions to stimuli. I will get migraines from bright lights or strong smells, and certain sounds and textures can trigger intense anxiety and even physical pain. I’m also very sensitive to the heat! I can also experience the opposite, where I won’t realize something is hurting me or is too loud. This symptom also includes sensory seeking, which can be a stim! This is things like rubbing soft clothing, smelling something you like, watching satisfying videos, etc.

Now I’ll talk about accommodations I need!

Some accommodations that are always helpful, regardless of environment, are sunglasses, headphones and/or ear plugs, stim toys, a text to speech device, and a bracelet or pin that says I have autism. Some accommodations that are helpful in work/school environments are the ability to leave when needed, either for the whole day or just long enough to calm down, extra time on trainings (work), a printed set of notes (school), very clear and simple language and instructions, and plenty of warning before a big change (scheduling, curriculum, the like). I also process information differently than allistic people, I have bottom up processing, which means I have to make sense of the minor details before I can get to work on the “big picture.” This means I might need extra help understanding assignments or tasks, especially things like math and professional/legal/adult documents. Someone to read things and explain things to me is very helpful.

Questions! I love questions, I love doing research, I love learning about other’s experiences with this stuff! Please feel free to ask anything, and I’ll do my best to answer!

[astramthetaprime]

Harbor in the Storm

I've reached a harbor where I am -- for the moment -- not afraid.

I've had a second "warning" at work. They seem determined to get rid of me one way or another. I cannot learn the job if there is never any work to allow me to practice. We've had some this past week, I've done what was given to me and made corrections on work done previously. All with the constant help of two of my coworkers who see what's going on and are determined to help me remain.

That care in itself, that simple human kindness of seeing that I'm being scapegoated, has kept this situation from being a complete shambles. They've kept me from feeling isolated. My birthday was this past week and I wasn't expecting anything, I did my thing by myself this past Sunday. But there was cake. Unexpected cake. And women I consider to be good friends now.

I went to the doctor for my routine yearly visit and she asked if I was still going to therapy. I explained that I'd been dropped from the schedule with no warning or explanation. My NP is a good egg. She asked if I wanted her to get me back on the schedule. I said no, I don't have the time now.

No one has time to take care of themselves anymore. But revelations happen anyway.

Food should not be the only form of comfort that a child has available to them. There should be loving parents, or loving grandparents. There should be a loving somebody there to see the child's difficulties, to be a shoulder to cry on, to speak to teachers when there are bullies, to see the child safely to a counselor or a doctor or someone who can help. But when there is no one, the child wakes up to an empty house and comes home from school to an empty house. The few moments the child has with the parent are filled with resentment and anger day after day. The only sure and steadfast source of comfort is to open the refrigerator and eat.

It's the wrong solution. It doesn't solve the problem, it doesn't answer the unvoiced grief, it doesn't make clear any confusion. All it does is overstuff an already full belly, because the interoception issues confuse depression and anxiety with hunger. The only thing that happens is that the child gets fat. So on top of the unvoiced, unacknowledged wrongness of autism, there's weight issues and all the attendant bullying and health problems it brings.

So decades later the child realizes they were encouraged to be a garbage disposal, because "eat that, I don't want to put it in the refrigerator" and "eat this, it's about to go bad."

Eat that, eat this, and by the way you need to do something about your weight, you're a fat cow.

There's no one to take to account for this now. They're dead and can never answer for what they put me through. And I don't speak to the ones that are left.

If the only path to peace I am given means I walk alone, then I will. But then I look at my dear friends around the table on a Saturday morning, rolling dice and fighting imaginary monsters with me. I look at my friends at work who know I'm being screwed and are doing their best to help me. I look at all of you here on Tumblr who share this path with me. I am not alone. I'm not alone. I'm not alone.

[lunarsprites]

16.5.24

Two days of notice. Lack of clear communication and preparation.

"You're not working, you have nothing better to do."

"Six-month anniversary? That's nothing!"

"You would be helping me a lot."

"Also it's Mother's Day."

"I'll give you the $300 I was going to pay the sitter."

I feel unseen in this situation. It's a recurring theme, pattern, that I've had struggles with in our relationship dynamic since I was a child. I am not resentful, I am not angry. I am feeling suffocated, and frustrated, and a bit sad.

I feel as though I have to choose words carefully when writing with concerns to my feelings, because certain terms are considered inflammatory and you may take it the wrong way, but I am not coming from a place of attack. I am trying to showcase my experience, my emotions, so you have a better understanding of why situations like these can be harmful to our relationship, and how these things trigger me.

Firstly, your use of guilt tripping in order to get me to go with the tone of voice you used when asking me to go with you and I had showed initial resistance and reluctancy and the phrases you used as well. I ended up saying yes to avoid conflict and to avoid disappointing you, once again; because we've been doing pretty well, and things have been pretty okay for a while now. I pushed away my deep discomfort of last minute plans and change of schedule in order to make you happy.

Routine is so important to me now. I have my routine in my safe space, I have a home. I like to have things scheduled ahead of time and prepare now. I've become organized with everything I do in life, because lack of structure and instability were two demons that crippled my life for so long, and I worked so hard to get to where I am now.

Not only that, but those two demons are symptoms of my ADHD, that also subsided considerably partially due to my Autism Disorder being unmasked more often. In which, I realized I feel safe when there is a consistent and predictable routine in place. I get overwhelmed when there is a lack of structure, or routines suddenly change. Inconsistency causes anxiety and frustration, which is often expressed in what you may see as "challenging behaviour".

I sacrificed my 6 month anniversary celebration, I compromised because I was under the impression it was only going to be 6 days away and I'd be back in time for the weekend and have my celebrations then. You may think 6 months is nothing, but to me, in my relationship, we take even small milestones seriously and celebrate them just as much. Because we value each other so much. So, something that to you seems "insignificant", to me, means a lot. I prepared three weeks in advance for this. I sacrificed that to go with you because being a few days late wouldn't bother my partner, and I could work around it, and I knew you'd appreciate me coming along.

To you, because I am not at a regular job, it's as though I "have nothing better to do". I have my set up at home, I an working to improve my skills and try to start a business by myself, even if it's going a little slower (because I don't want to rush things. I always rush, crash, and then burn). I started this journey and just dove into it with no knowledge, and for once I like this challenge I gave myself, it makes me feel like I'm in charge of my life and the only person I need to please is myself. I have my routine with what I am doing, and so to minimize what I do with my time like this, it feels really hurtful. I feel unseen when you make these comments.

"You can just bring your things here." To you, it may seem easy to just bring some things and I can do it anywhere. However, it really isn't as simple as you think it is. "Just get your boyfriend to ship the things here."

It's the principle of the matter. Taking my things whilst travelling would mean I need to pack a whole lot of fragile stuff, lug it all with me (when I say there is a lot of equipment and extras, I mean it). There is so much hassle in that alone. Then comes the discomfort of being in a place I am not comfortable in, that I do not know very well, and having to have an adequate area for me to work. There is the fact that the dog is around and his fur is everywhere, or he could ingest something accidentaly that's fallen on the floor. Then I have to pack it all and take it back and reset up everything that I already had spent hours on setting up and putting things in order. There are so many things that bring me discomfort.

Furthermore when you brush my discomfort aside, when you say I could deifinitely take things with me and it isn't that hard, or I just make it hard. It's like I'm expected to just scrap my sense of safety in order to do things because you would do it that way, or in order to please you. Safety in terms of stability, of being in an environment I know, permanency, etc. These are things that are important to me. Things I lacked so much of in my life and have finally begun to acquire.

I, in no way, want to use my diagnosis as a crutch or an excuse. It's extremely hard to navigate, because if I say things or try to explain how my autism or adhd impact my behavior, I fear you may see it as me excusing things. But I can't just dismiss them, because I have two neurological disorders that don't have cure. Yes, there is therapy, but therapy is to manage things, and I already do SO much, so much to mitigate and to control things, to assimilate to people who don't struggle with what I struggle with.

All I want is to be understood, validated, and seen. So please, try to understand where I am coming from, and see that all I'm trying to do is feel a little more seen. I'm not trying to make you the bad guy. I understand your intentions, it's the execution of things and the aforementioned points that made me feel the way it did.

[chappedlipjournal]

Im tired but i need to type this out. Yesterday a guy at work asked me out (not a direct coworker but we do work for the same employer) and he did it by asking to hang out over our work im-ing software. Not the smoothest move. I did not reply bcuz i had to leave work on time to make my pt appt and i replied this morning with the help of my lovely lovely friends and now we are getting coffee on friday during a break which is fine. I held my boundaries and i feel good about that. My friends and myself keep reminding me that i dont owe him anything. I dont get asked out/hit on often, lumping them together despite them being different imo, because i have the same reaction each time. My relationship with my sexuality and my romantic orientation is complicated. Ive identified as ace for almost a decade now (wow!) But romance has always been a struggle and here lately ive circled back to the term aromantic but i still want that depe intimate connection with someone. I have a hard time figuring out if im romantically attracted to someone. I had crushes as a kid. One on a boy at daycare. Another on a boy in high school. And passing fancies of oh thats the kind of boy you have a crush on. And then nothing since. I dont think the crushes i had were disingenuous or faked. I look back on them fondly. But the last crush on a boy i had was when i was a freshman in high school. Then in college i met someone and i had an insanely difficult time telling if i had a crush on them but i dont think them leaving me resulted in a platonic reaction. But thats something i will never get closure for.

But whenever this happens i immediately jump to like twenty years in the future thinking would this person want to listen to taylor swift with me always and not get tired of eating pancakes every weekend and be alright with my schedule and routines etc etc and i cant ever picture the answer being yes? And like right now i dont know this guy. I know his name. I know he likes critical role. I know where he works. Thats it. Which is fine. But there are so many blanks and its overwhelming and slightly terrifying.

I almost always feel like ive been duped somehow. That i missed whatever they were putting down and picked it up by accident. I wasnt flirting with him. I wasnt trying to impress him. My coworker was asking if there was something that interested me in him when i saw him and i thought oh hes here to do his job. And she laughed and i knew i failed that test. But i dont know why.

This is all much further complicated by the fact that i really do think im autistic. I dont think i have neurotypical views of these things. And i wonder if he/someone would be okay with what that actually means. If they dont mind the stimming. If they dont mind my routines. If they dont mind my echolalia. And again i cant picture the answer being yes. And i wonder if how i view romance and relationships and everything else is more influenced by autism than anything else.

Ive been listening to taylor swift and ive realized ive never really felt the way she describes in any of her songs. Ever. And i know they are dramatized and romanticized and everything else. But so are all love songs.

I did go on a date with a guy when I was in England several years ago. We were touring the oxford, i think, castle which was not a castle anymore. And we started talking and he asked me to dinner and i said yes because i was flattered. But i was like 20 and he was like 28 and i was like oh we are in wildly different stages in life and i never spoke to him again. I dont remember his name.

And i am flattered when i am asked out. But i also feel guilty. And caught off guard. And wide eyed like a deer in the headlights. I become hyper aware that people are interpreting my actions and words andaybe picking up things i am not intending to put out.

When i was in jr high i got asked to the dances and i said yes to one and i think no to the other. A boy i rode the bus with every day for years asked me to the dance and i said yes because i felt bad saying no. And he asked me because i was nice to him. I think i said no to the other boy. But i dont remember. Im sure he does. But i know he asked me because i was nice to him.

I cant tell how much of these thoughts are queer thoughts, how much may be autism, how much is just me. Either way i have no idea what i am going to tell this man when we get coffee. And i know i dont have to tell him anything. I dont think i will feel better until its over with.

[straycatboogie]

2022/12/25 English

BGM: Momus "Christmas On Earth"

Today was a day off. Indeed, it's Christmas but my day goes on as usual. This morning I go to AEON just as one of my morning activities. There, listening to Howie B's "Music For Babies", I read Andrey Tarkovsky's "Sculpting in Time". Even though I don't have enough knowledge of Tarkovsky's movies, this book contains his profound thoughts so it tells me a lot. I was born in 1975 so I have not known Tarkovsky at the end of the "Cold War". It also means that I have not known how he had to try to make movies during that tough time. I need to learn other facts from other books (but never say the reason why even if I am not a movie critic).

This afternoon I went to the main house of my group home and gave the leader some of my "bonus" money. Although we couldn't talk for enough time, he said a part of that money's usage was up to me. So I finally bought Shinji Aoyama's diary. I thought that I would live my peaceful, poor life in the next year. Returning to my room at the group home, I thought I would watch the Tarkovsky's movie. But eventually, I read the "Sculpting in Time" by the end. For Tarkovsky, movies must mean great art, but probably he thought they should be entertainment for people (or audiences). But about this, I should try to read once more, step by step.

Until this sentence, I have written two famous facts about autism. The one is the character that can stay comfortable if they do their "routines" with their rules or scheduling (some people say that I am really square, but it won't be correct. You must look at my room and know how I am lazy). Another one is the character that tries to "dig" the field they are interested in until they get satisfied with it (they often reach the stage many specialists get surprised at). Once I hated this character of mine but now I can feel happy with it. I feel glad about that.

This evening I spent my time doing nothing special with Ryuichi Sakamoto, Goldmund, and others. I noticed that I have never read Andy Clark's "Being There" (we Japanese say this as "Tsundoku"). I tried to read it and found that was interesting. I can remember that I used to read various books about brain science even if I am just an amateur. You might say why I read such many books although my memory can't memorize so much. But nobody knows what kind of details of the books "hit" me. But I am glad if the books, even though only a part of them, become my flesh and bones. Reading goes on and on.

[bettsfic]

Betts, I’m having a really hard time writing my fic. It’s incredibly long which doesn’t help but even updating the next chapter feels impossible. I’m so amazed—not only by how often you’re able to update, but by the sheer quality of your writing. I have a tendency to get too flowery and incoherent, so I’m scared to rush. But this unfortunately means I update every few months. All of my readers have virtually abandoned my story and I can’t blame them. Can I get some advice on how you’ve built the skills needed to update fast with good writing? Any suggestions you might have?

i can't remember if i've talked about this yet, but i was on a med to help with my sensory issues and it really, really fucked with me. and even though i was like, twitching a lot and had restless legs and fatigue, i stayed on it because it was doing what it set out to do: light and sound didn't bother me at all (i didn't even need to put on headphones when the lawn was mowed), and i wasn't snappish and mean like i get sometimes when i'm not masking. i was able to do everything i needed to do in a day with ease, without even making a detailed to do list (a thing i've done nearly every day since i was 18). i could make difficult phone calls. i could change my routine at a moment's notice or go somewhere when i felt like it without having to gear up for it. in other words, it had taken away a lot of my autism symptoms. for six months it was like someone else was living in my body. someone it turns out i didn't like at all.

i wasn't writing. i couldn't write. normally my brain is so full of words, if i don't get them down it can sometimes become physically painful. i've suspected for a long time i have hypergraphia, because the words don't even have to be coherent, they just have to be out. before i started writing fiction, i wrote a lot of flat-out nonsense. when i was a teenager, i kept long-running notebooks with friends. i was on AIM all the time. i religiously journaled and kept a blog detailing my daily life. and then when texting became a thing, my life got immeasurably better. i have always, always preferred writing to speaking, and i feel like i can't actually know a person until i've read their writing. i remember when i first got an email address and my dad sent me an email, i was like, ah! i can finally see you! and you're way weirder than i thought!

anyway it took a long time but eventually i found fanfic and now everyone who's ever known me can breathe a lot easier since i'm no longer texting them a million times a day with totally banal thoughts.

which is all to say, when i was on that med, my brain was utterly silent. it was terrifying. it felt like i'd had a major piece of me cut off and there was a time i was honestly so scared i'd never write again, that whatever spark i had was gone. i was so bored i contemplated going out, like actually leaving my house, for fun, and i was like, oh so this is why people do things.

because there were no words happening, when i did sit down to write (which was the one thing i still had to schedule, the opposite of how it usually is, and by that i mean i'm writing all the time by default and have to schedule everything else like eating and running errands), it was tedious, because i had to make them up on the spot instead of them just being there. it's the difference between buying apples and picking them yourself. when you buy them, there's a whole little mountain to choose from. you don't have to take a single step. but picking them yourself, you've gotta go out and find them, and it takes a lot longer.

there were other things i couldn't do either, like conflict and scene crafting. i couldn't really see the future of a given story, whereas before, i didn't even have to think about it. it was just all there waiting for me and all i had to do was put it on the page.

of course, there is a horrific downside to this, and that is that i'm virtually unfunctional in day to day life while i'm in the process of writing something. that's why i love residencies so much. they're made specifically for people with maladaptive behaviors like mine, like, here's a room, here's a desk, here's a hundred bucks for groceries, have at it.

i signed my apartment lease in april and i still haven't unpacked. some days i sit down at my desk at 10am and i blink and it's 2am and i don't know what happened, but i have 10k new words that i had absolutely no control over creating. thankfully i've developed good habits to make sure i get all the work done i have to get done, but it's always a struggle and honestly i can't see myself ever being able to work a full-time job again, unless i go back on that awful med.

the point is, for six months i wasn't writing, and because i wasn't writing i fell into a very deep depression. coupled with the fact nothing was in my brain, i wasn't talking much to anyone, wasn't engaging much online, wasn't reading, wasn't cooking, wasn't cleaning. all i could do was sleep and watch youtube videos. the highlight of my day was my coaching calls and the work i was doing for ofic, where i could feel a little like myself again.

as you can see from this very long post, i got taken off that med and put on a new one that's rendered me once more a ball of words and nothing else. my psychiatrist, bless her, didn't even question me when i said i preferred to be an obsessive maladaptive daydreamer who doesn't live in reality than...whatever i'd turned into. a task-doer i guess. i think what i'm going through now, the 200k in a few months thing, is all the build-up of being on that med.

anyway, everyone's brain is different and therefore their relationship and approach to writing is different. i think we have far less control over these things than we think. or at least i do. i certainly know some ass-in-chair 8am writers for whom writing is genuinely work like any other, and they have daily word goals and once they hit them they go outside and run a marathon or whatever.

other than those few people, i don't think any writer is happy with the pace at which they write. i would love to have the patience you do to get flowery with my writing, but my sentences have always been spare and simple. i've learned to make that work to my advantage i think, but it still remains: i am never going to be a writer of pretty things. and that made me sad for a long time, but it also makes me appreciate a beautiful, complex sentence so much more, because it's something i can't really do.

i don't think writing slow is a weakness and i don't think writing fast is a strength. our minds move at the pace they move and there's not much we can do about it. i think a lot about a girl i used to know in the MFA who wrote microfiction, and her daily word count goal was six. six words. i think about donna tartt, one of my favorite authors, and how she's published one book a decade, three books in a career. and i also think about those writers who churn out book after book after book and even if they're good quality, they're all kind of the same, and that's because writing speed is directly related to the speed at which you make decisions. if you're always falling back on the same story structures, sentence structures, scene pacing, and character archetypes, yeah, you can write pretty fast. writing, at its simplest, is deciding what word comes next, over and over and over again. and so i write fic fast because my writing style is just my inner monologue, the characters are already established, and in terms of plot all i really have to do is figure out the happily ever after.

but it also took me 3 years to write my short story collection. i have novels i've been working on for 5 or 6 years now. i have hundreds of thousands of words of prose in various WIPs that will have to be completely rewritten because of how sloppy they are and how they don't get the work done i want them to be doing. so i definitely understand what it is to write slow, and how frustrating it can be when you're just eager to be finished.

i'm sorry your readers have abandoned your story and i'm sorry i don't have more practical advice for you. my only real advice is to relish in the process and enjoy any minute you spend crafting a sentence you can be proud of.

[boldlyvoid]

ain't it fun? | Part five

Summary: reader just needs an NA meeting before they have a meltdown, they end up with the best friend they could ever make.

Warnings: pregnancy, chronic illness, spencer's career chance - he's a high school teacher now, they have a 1-year-old, smut at the end but not graphic.

word count: 2.8k

a/n: I imagine this is in season 10, so they've been together at least 7 years-ish now, I just jumped well into the future because I wanted to! also, Cordelia's nickname is Edie and pronounced Ee-dee !!

P1 P2 P3 P4

“No.”

Spencer sighs, “are you going to like any of my suggestions?”

“When you give me a baby name that isn’t from some weird old male book character, then yes, I’ll take them into consideration,” she replies, hand on her stomach as she lays back against the pillows.

She was huge, 9 months pregnant and so, so close to the finish line. She was swollen and in pain and exhausted. Going off every single medication and recreational drugs to make a life was a commitment and a half, she was doing well but she was so ready to be done. To do a few more months of breastfeeding and then go back on her medications.

Spencer was terrific. He was googling and asking Penelope to research things, he had called doctors he knows and friends and did everything in his power to find a way to ease her pain even before they got pregnant. He’s taken the last 3 months off of work and he doesn’t know when he’ll go back. He has just been so, so incredible the whole time.

Naming a child was hard. You had to not only think about all the nicknames and what their initials spell, but you also had to think about how they’ll like it; if it’ll fit their personality and spirit. And most of all, is it going to get them bullied? There are some terrible kid names. Like Richard… how do you name a newborn Richard?

“I want something meaningful with a nice nickname and works with our names and her siblings,” she whispered towards him. “They need to all work together.”

“What are some of your favourites?” He asks, moving in closer and finding a way to cuddle in with her and her pregnancy pillow who has all but replaced him lately.

“I like earthy names, like Lennox, Juniper, Aspen, Elowen,” her voice is really soft, she bites her lip at the end as she thinks them over again. “And old things like Cordelia and Winnifred.”

“Which one sounds the best with Reid?”

“I like Cordelia Reid the most, and then we can call her Edie and I was thinking you can pick her middle name?” She’s been thinking about it for a while, but too afraid to know his opinions.

“Cordelia means core in Latin, which makes sense cause she already has my heart,” Spencer teased, he has made it very clear that their little girl is going to be spoiled, loved and a daddy's girl.

He took all his fears of being a bad dad and threw them out the window. He knew that just being there was all he wanted from his dad, and so that’s what he was going to do. He left the BAU for the time being, he was doing the odd lecture at the academy and answering calls for cases. They couldn’t just stop using his brain, there were some things too pressing to not ask the walking computer, but other than that, he was done.

He was looking into other jobs for when he finally decides to go back, he was unsure how long of a paternity leave he wanted. He was really content with just staying home all the time now, but he did miss going out and being useful during the days. The job he was most interested in, however, was a high school teacher.

A prep school in DC is looking into adding an Anthropology, Psychology and Sociology course to their curriculum, and they wanted Spencer. They thought he would be perfect for the seniors, he is fun and young and attentive, he can control a room and keep them entertained, and he’s probably the best teacher a kid could get.

It was going to make him a good dad too.

“I think Jade is a nice middle name,” he adds after thinking it over for a few minutes.

“Cordelia Jade Reid,” she says the full name for the first time and it just feels right, like they already know her.

—

She was very calm for a newborn baby.

She liked to just look around and blink, she licked her lips a lot and she was constantly breaking out of her swaddle. She was always happy to have cuddles with her dad and she pooped every night at exactly at 3 am, without fail. She didn’t cry a lot, but when she did it was still wonderful to hear.

They were so in love with her, she was absolutely perfect for them. She fit right into their sleeping schedule and their life, she ate like a pro, she slept most of the night and she was growing way too fast for their liking.

One day they’re crying over the fact they made a life in a tiny little hospital room, and the next thing they know she’s about to turn 1.

She’s sitting in bed with Y/N, she’s sitting in her lap with two handfuls of hair and a story to tell. She’s been babbling so much lately, she hears them talking all the time and she wants to join so badly. They indulge her, asking her to continue her thoughts and gasping at her gossip.

“No way, and what did you do next?!” She asked the little one sat in her lap.

Edie babbled on once more, smacking her tongue on the roof of her mouth as she pushed air past her vocal cords, humming and making the funniest sounds. She went on and on, she was so enthusiastic, like her father, as she waved her arms around to make her point.

“That is so fascinating, you are so cool, little Edie,” Y/N hyped her up, smiling at her as she leaned in close and pressed their noses together.

Cordelia laughed and it finally made Spencer giggle too, he had been watching from the doorway as his ‘wife’ and daughter talked in bed. They were best friends already, always talking and snuggling, learning or reading together. She was always happy when she was with one of them, she was needy and snuggly and very co-dependent but they didn’t mind, they preferred all the attention from her.

“Look who’s home,” Y/N whispered and Cordelia shot a glance towards the door, she smiled and screamed as she saw him.

“Hi Edie!” He waves at her with a smile, he takes his bag off and places it by the dresser followed by his blazer.

He gets into the bed and she instinctively reaches for a hug. He wraps her up and she snuggles right into his neck, with a fistful of his shirt, she just holds him there. She didn’t understand why he wasn’t home all day anymore, she missed him for lunch and at nap time but she loved the new routine of a snuggle when she woke up and he got home.

Spencer leans back against the pillows beside Y/N, turning his head to capture a kiss from her lips. They always just spend a quick second kissing when he gets home, even if it’s just a peck or a full-on passionate make-out, he always kisses her when he comes home. He smiles at the end of the kiss, pulling her into a hug too.

“I love Fridays,” he whispers, “Edie do you know what Fridays mean?”

She pulls away and sits up, she loves to listen to him. “Friday is the last day of the school week, which means I get to spend 2 whole days with my favourite people now.”

Edie smiled, almost like she understood what he meant, and then she was talking again, it was completely incomprehensible but they imagined she was telling him about her day.

“You forgot the part where we went to the park,” Y/N added.

Cordelia looked at her with wide eyes, “dada,” was the only word she said before babbling on again and they both stopped.

“Did she just?” Spencer was shocked and frozen still after asking.

Y/N sat up and looked right into Cordelia’s eyes, “who is that?” She pointed at Spencer.

“Dada!” She said it again and they were suddenly all squealing, even Cordelia was suddenly excited as she kept screaming dada over and over again.

“Can you say, mom? Or mama? Mummy?” Spencer tried his hardest to find an easy way for her to say it.

“Mumm,” she pushed her lips together to hum her M sound and Spencer was floored, he bounced her up and down a small amount as they cheered.

“Smartest girl in the world!” Spencer cheered her on before pulling her into another hug.

Y/N was crying softly, little tiny dreams that she didn’t even know she had were coming true every single day with them. She knew she wanted to be a mom when she was growing up, all those dreams died when her illness got worse and they all warned her that having kids would put her at risk of being moneyless and that working wasn’t an option to even support them. Let alone the threat of them taking them away just because of her autism or depression possibly being considered ‘too bad’ to care for them.

Spencer took all those fears and he kicked them out. Every day she got to experience the most precious gifts the world had to offer, her daughter was perfect and her husband was incredible. Together they were a perfect little family that ran on trust, love, and communication. Always talking, always hugging, always there for each other.

—

They crawl into bed much later than they expected to. Cordelia didn’t want to go to bed, she was trying her hardest to keep staying awake to spend time with them but eventually, sleep won. They finally placed her in her crib with her white noise and her complete darkness and closed her door for the next few hours of peace.

They both let out a deep sigh before rolling to face one another. “How was your day?” He asks, like always.

“Good,” she smiles, “I think having a kid and getting on her schedule was the best thing I’ve ever done actually, cause I’m sleeping on time, I’m eating when she does and I’m outside a lot more. She’s given me this purpose and it’s rewarding on my body.”

Spencer moves in so he can kiss her nose, “I love hearing that.”

“How was your class today?” She asks back, loving his little stories about all the 17 and 18-year-olds that were fascinated by him. As well as the kids who thought it was cool to try and pick on him before getting the shit verbally kicked out of them in front of the whole class.

It was interesting seeing him in a form of authority, he never really took charge at the BAU, she’s never seen him yell at his friends and he’s never really yelled at her either. He’s been incredibly calm, so to see him verbally tear someone apart by acknowledging their biggest flaws to make sense of why they feel the need to bully, it was pretty intense.

“They were a lot better today, they enjoyed the lesson and the kids that were giving me trouble skipped, I guess he really didn’t appreciate me calling him out that bad on Tuesday,” Spencer smirked, rolling his eyes like he cared.

“I still can’t believe that he thought it was okay to call you names in front of other students, where is the respect these days?”

“Well,” he’s about to do what he always does. He can never be truly mad at someone because he knows why everyone does what they do and that they can’t help it. “In his file, it says his parents are newly divorced, we get a list of all the kids information on the attendance like allergies and things, but also small info like life changes in case they act out.”

“Doesn’t mean he can call you the f slur,” she whispers, “all because you wore a purple shirt?”

“If I met his father I’d probably get an answer for that,” he adds, “if he’s afraid to show his emotions around his son, it’s probably why his son thinks colours are gay.”

It makes her laugh, “you look hot in purple too so I don’t see the problem?”

“Do I?” He teases, getting in even closer and pressing their bodies together.

She rolls her eyes before wrapping her arms around him and leaning forward for a quick kiss, “I think you look sexy all the time.”

He kisses her as a thank you, “I think the same about you.”

“Even when I haven’t showered in 2 days because she cries if she can’t see me and she cries if she gets wet?” Y/N laughed, annoyed but in love with their little monster at the same time.

“Always,” he reminds her. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she kisses him again after.

There are probably a million more things to share from the day, but they spend their time kissing instead. It’s been too long since they’ve just rolled around in the sheets making out like they did in the beginning. Before they ever had sex, before they had kids and a house and a love as strong as they do now.

A part of them missed the early days when everything was new and exciting, but she also loved the fact that they knew each other so well that they didn’t have to communicate anymore. They ran like 1 unit, always completing the other person's thoughts, needs and wants. They were so unbelievably happy.

She wants him badly and he wants her just as much, and he’s about to take her when she pulls back. “Nope, as much as I love her I can’t get pregnant again for at least another year.”

It makes him laugh as he pulls away and rolls over to look through his nightstand for a condom, “it wouldn’t be that bad?”

“You carry it then, seahorse it up,” she teased. “I like being back on my medicine, I need some time to be okay before I go through all that again.”

Once he’s all situated in the latex and back between her legs, he hovers over her, so close that their lips are touching ever so slightly. “I am fine if it’s just the three of us forever.”

“I’m not,” she smiles, “there will be 4 of us one day, just not today.”

With that, she’s pulling him into another kiss as he pushing inside. It’s a feeling she’s accustomed to but will never be used to, it’s a stretch that shouldn’t be as intoxicating as it is. She holds him closer as she plays with his tongue in her mouth.

He was so good at everything he did, especially the sex. He knew every single part of her body now and exactly how to push all her buttons the right way. She could live in the moment of his pumping in and out of her while his thumb circled her clit and his other hand groaned her breasts. Eventually, he kissed down her throat and she was a mess of breathy moans and low gasps.

Writing in the sheets, her legs wrap around him as she tried to pull him in even closer. It was impossible to get closer but he was still too far away, she wanted to absorb him and live in him forever. He was her safe place and she never wanted to be anywhere else.

As her orgasm bubbled, so did his. The both of them gasping and panting, she whined as she breached the edge and gripped his back, “Spence!”

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he whispered before fucking into her harder and faster, pushing her through it as he reached his own.

His movements on her clit never stopped and suddenly one felt like two and she wasn’t sure when the rush was going to stop and she didn’t care when it did. It was powerful, soothing and euphoric. A high she could live in for a while and return to it without problem as long as she had him.

He came with a small moan, trying to keep quiet as he muffled it into her neck, stilling his hips on his last thrust and dropping onto her more. Her hands were all over his back as she pressed kisses to his forehead, coming down but not wanting the love to stop there.

The love was never going to stop there for them. Their love was never-ending, and somehow as she held him there in her arms and felt his breath on his neck, she turned to see the baby monitor with their peaceful child sound asleep down the hall, she loved him even more now somehow.

Loving Spencer Reid was like falling down a bottomless pit. She never knew when she was going to reach the end, but she was content with falling.

smut taglist: @g0lden-cth @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria@reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor @blanchardsbk

[menlove]

Hi! This might be a bit of a weird question (feel free to ignore it if you want) but that one post you made about deviations from routine and autism crossed my dash today, and it was oddly relatable to me. Many autistic behaviours are relatable to me, because they are oftentimes shared with adhd, but this one struck a chord, and I had a very specific question about it. I tried to look it up online first because I didn't want to bother someone with something so silly, but I couldn't find a satisfactory answer, so here I am...

More specifically, I wanted to know what someone in the autistic spectrum might feel when someone else decides for them to change their pre-planned routine. I can find a lot of sites talking about how the person in question would be upset or distressed, but they never quite dwell on what that is like from the autistic perspective, only from the point of view of the person who has to 'deal with' that distress and how to best do it.

My question, then, is this: from your experience (I would also be interested in the experience of other autistic people, it doesn't have to be yours in particular if you don't feel comfortable speaking about it), how do you feel when someone decides for you to change your routine?

The media usually portrays autistic people that deviate from their routine being extremely upset, screaming or crying, or stemming sometimes, but I know that most portrayals of autistic people are bullshit and can even infantilize them and show them 'throwing temper tantrums' like a toddler, so...

Is it more like extreme annoyance because now things won't be 'how they should be'? Like you had this mental schedule that you spent the previous day, or even days before, crafting in your head and suddenly this ass feels entitled to your schedule and didn't even tell you beforehand that there was going to be a change of plans, even though they should have, because if an activity involves you then it is rude not to tell you that it's going to happen until the last minute. And now you have to change your plans, but the schedule doesn't fit well enough and you either need to take something out of it or eliminate some of the 'buffer time' between activities that you absolutely need to prepare mentally for the next activitiy. So now you're stressed, and that stress translates as tears of frustration, or even lashing out in anger at other people, and it feels even worse because you can't control it, or you might not even notice that you're 'over reacting' until later when you're more calm.

When I say schedule and activities, I don't mean anything too important, it can be little things like 'ok tomorrow morning I'm going to clean, then take a shower and then study until lunch'. But then suddenly that morning someone tells you that you have to walk the dog, and that might not even take you an hour, but it disrupts the schedule and it feels idk how to describe it, extremely rude or even intrusive??

Again, feel free to ignore this question completely if you don't want to answer it, I understand that I'm not entitled to your personal experiences or anything. Or, alternatively, if you don't want to answer because it's too personal, but you know where I could find more information on this, that would be lovely as well.

you're all good! I don't think it's a weird question at all and I don't mind answering 💖

it always feels very frustrating and overwhelming and honestly panic inducing? like physically my chest feels tight and it's harder to breathe and I'm just more irritable. when I was younger that would translate to tears and yelling or "throwing fits" but I got in trouble enough times for that that now I just get really irritable and want to hide away by myself. sometimes it can result in tears if the frustration has built up enough but usually for me it's very internal. that's not the case for everyone though bc some people didn't get it punished out of them as kids or they don't internalize it even if they did get punished.

but yeah you're absolutely right! it feels very rude or intrusive (for me that depends on what it is, sometimes it feels rude if I feel it's something they should've asked me about first but if it's just unavoidable I just get frustrated with no target) and it's just a whole spiral even if it's small.

[rjhpandapaws]

Will be the Best Years of My Life

Ch 3: I'll Stay Behind to Stay with You

Middle school came with his teachers trying to get him to go the way of Connor. They figured bumping him up a grade would help with his ADHD; that having a challenge to pit his boundless energy against would calm him down. They didn’t listen when he told them it wouldn’t work. That if they just put him in Daniel’s class he would be fine. The school didn’t believe him on that either and decided to go over his head and call his dad. So the next Monday found him in his guidance counsellor’s office with his dad. Understandably, when he’d first gotten the call his dad assumed Silas had gotten himself into trouble again. Silas watched with some amusement as his dad got gradually more annoyed as his guidance counsellor talked at him. “That isn’t going to work.” His dad said bluntly and cut the counsellor off, “Just because their twins doesn’t mean Silas has the same needs as Connor. If you shove him into a new class he’s only going to disrupt more because he’s going to be on his own in a new environment.” The counsellor tried to pipe up again, but withered under his dad’s glare, “Did you even bother asking Silas what he needed or did you ignore him because he’s a child?”

“Ah, well,” He scrambled, “We just thought this would be a better fit for him.” “Than what exactly?” His dad pressed. “He asked to be switched into the same schedule block as Daniel Pealeson.” He explained, “We didn’t think placing him in a class with someone he had history with was a good idea.” “So let me get this straight.” His dad leaned to his full sitting height before he continued, “And correct me if I’m wrong; but instead of putting him in class with the one person known to keep him focused, you want to pull him away from his peers and into a classroom full of strangers?” “Well when you put it that way-” “Do you have any idea how ADHD actually works?” His dad continued, “Routine and familiarity work best to keep these kinds of things to minimum. If you put him in Daniel’s schedule block things will go better. If you don’t believe me you can ask his elementary school teachers. They found this out on accident.” “Alright.” His counsellor said after a long silence, “We’ll make the change as soon as we can.” His counsellor clearly didn’t expect his dad to be as well informed as he was; he was out of his depth and he knew it.

They were dismissed after that and Silas smiled as his dad ruffled his hair on the way out. It was nice to know that even when no one else would, his dad would always be there to make sure the right thing got done. It was tiring to always be ignored and talked over just because he’s a kid. “Sorry you had to get called in just to tell them the same things I have been for weeks.” He said when they got into the hall. His dad just shrugged, “It’s not a problem Sixer, that’s what Dad’s do.” He pulled Silas against his side in a tight half hug, “Sorry it had to come to me being called in just so you could be heard.” “Its just so frustrating.” His voiced wobbled with tears. He always hated that his first response when he felt anything in excess was to cry. He was angry, “I’m the one dealing with this. They should believed me when I say I know how to make it better child or not!” “Shh Six, I know” He pulled Silas into a full hug and ran his hand through his hair to soothe him, “Let’s go home for today, and you can try again tomorrow.” “Okay.” He sniffled, “I don’t think I can concentrate like this.”

Silas was in a relatively low mood after that. He just wanted to be heard and listened to by the adults around him. Why was that so hard? They listened to his twin, so why not him? Was it because Connor’s Autism showed more than his ADHD? If he had a meltdown would they listen to him then? “Hey, come back to me Silas.” His dad’s gentle voice pulled him out of his head and he realized he was crying again. “Sorry,” He mumbled as he wiped his eyes. “Want to talk about it?” His dad prodded gently. Silas heaved out a wet sigh as they pulled into the driveway, “I just don’t get it. They will listen to Connor when he needs special requirements, but whenever I need help they ignore me. Why?” His dad was quiet for a long moment and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he looked for his words. “You and Connor present differently. His Autism comes through more than his ADHD so the school tends so see him as a small child, like he can’t function properly without his accommodations. Your ADHD comes through more, and that’s been reduced to you simply having too much energy instead of what you actually deal with. They think that if they can make you tired you’ll behave in the way they want.” He paused, “It’s not so much that they see Connor and don’t see you; but more that they see you in two very different lights.”

Silas sighed again, “Why can’t they just listen to us? It can’t be that hard.” “Because they’ve gotten it in their heads that they know what’s best, even when they very clearly don’t.” His dad replied with a level of exasperation that Silas felt down to his bones, “Take today to try and decompress okay? And if you want you can invite Daniel over after school. Alright?” He gave slow nod, “Okay.” They got out after that and went inside. Silas changed back into his pajamas and climbed back into bed. He pulled out his phone to message Daniel, but his exhaustion pulled him under before he could get that far. When he woke up a few hours later his dad had left to go back to work. So Silas more or less had run of the house. Any other day he would have seen this as an opportunity to cause trouble. Instead he dug in the fridge for his leftovers and put on cartoons. He didn’t really want to be a person today. The morning had been draining and he was still feeling sour about it. He checked his phone and found a couple of messages from Daniel.

Danny: R U ok? Danny: Silas? Sixty: Had some issued so I’m @ home. Sixty: You can come over later if you want Danny: Of course <3 see you after school Sixty: See you then <3

He smiled slightly as he picked through his food. Talking to Daniel always made him feel better. Daniel didn’t always understand what he was going through, but he always tried his best to be supportive. Silas always appreciated it. When it became clear that he actually wasn’t hungry despite not eating anything all day, he put his food back in the fridge and went back to watching cartoons. Eventually he went to grab his Switch so he had something to keep his hands busy. That was how Daniel found him when he came in through the front door with Connor and Cole. They shared a look and Silas grabbed his things so they could head back to his room. He didn’t have the energy to deal with everyone today. “Pajama day huh?” Daniel asked lightly as they settled on his bed. “Something like that.” He replied as he leaned his head on Daniel’s shoulder, “How was school?” “Pretty boring, like usual.” He said and shrugged his free shoulder, “How was your day?” Silas huffed, “Tiring. Dad had to come in and rescue me from being bumped up a grade.”

“They’re still on about that?” Daniel groaned, “They know it won’t work right?” “They do now.” Silas laughed, “I’ve never seen someone look so scared of my dad. The good news is I should be getting moved to your class soon.” “That’s great.” He grinned at Silas. “You know I did think about it right?” He said eventually, “Moving up a grade.” “Why didn’t you?” He asked. “I looked at Connor and how he’s always reaching back for Markus, and I realized that wasn’t what I wanted.” Silas explained, “I’m happy to stay behind because that means I get to stay here with you.” He was met with a bright smile, “I’m glad you chose to stay then. It would have been lonely with out you.” He took one of Daniel’s hands in his and intertwined their fingers, “Attached at the hip remember?” He squeezed Silas’s hand in return, “Attached at the hip.” He echoed. Silas smiled, he was happy to stay behind if it meant he could stay like this.