#it just worries me how autistic people on here are trying to pass off their autism as 'just quirky' or whatever

[swordsonnet]

maybe i'm missing something here, but it always confuses me when i see things like "some autistic people are disabled by their autism and some aren't" or "not everyone sees their autism as a disability". because... autism very much is a disability?! if you're autistic, then your symptoms must be present in a way that is disabling to you in your everyday life. it's literally in the diagnostic criteria. of course the extent to and areas in which you're disabled can vary greatly depending on the individual, but disability is part of the basic definition of autism, regardless of your personal feelings on the matter.

don't get me wrong, it's still much better than "autism is only a disability because of capitalism" because at least it doesn't make sweeping generalisations that aren't even remotely accurate to the lived reality of most autistic people. but it still perpetuates incorrect assumptions under the guise of personal choice, and honestly feels like an attempt to distance autism from disability in general. being disabled is nothing to be ashamed of, and i wish people wouldn't twist the meaning of autism to remove disability from it.

(and yes, that goes for level 1/low support needs autistics as well. i would be considered level 1 (though i wasn't diagnosed that way) and i'm still disabled by my autism! not to the same extent as many other people, sure, but i'm still disabled. if i wasn't, i wouldn't be autistic.)

[chrrywvea]

poolverine + sensory overload while grocery shopping anyone? taken from personal experience and the mountain of poolverine fics i've consumed already

disclaimer: if any of the aspects i've written for logan being autistic (it isn't mentioned but this was my intention here) are offensive or falsely written tell me immediately! i am undiagnosed but after quite a lot of my friends (both on the spectrum and not) telling me multiple times to get checked and TONS of research i'm pretty sure i'm on the spectrum as well. soooo this is basically what i've gathered from research, other fics and my own experiences with stuff like this. thanks! also minimal use of slightly stronger language (the f word, hurray :-D)

this is so bad i'm sorry

They were in the sweets aisle, trying to pick out various snacks for their movie night later on. It was bustling all around them, the small supermarket full with families and screaming kids and chatty old ladies and noise, so much fucking noise-

Logan flinched when something touched his cheek, belatedly realizing that Wade stood in front of him, their half-filled cart discarded by their side and one of his hands raised to his face.

"Sorry sweetums," Wade smiled sheepishly, "Didn't wanna scare you. You looked a little out of it. Breathing a little heavy and all"

Logan harrumphed, looking at the floor between them. Wade was wearing his bright neon pink converse again, the laces red on one side and yellow on the other, which was admittedly... cute. He remembered how proud Wade had been as he stumbled out of the bedroom with poorly conceiled excitement, shoving his shoes in his face because look peanut, our suits-

Once again he was forced out of his head and back into the disgustingly loud supermarket as Wade took his hand, gently stroking over his knuckles.

Logan managed to rip his gaze back to Wade's face, finding such genuine understanding in those lovely eyes that he felt even more queasy than he already did. Damn you, Wilson.

His head spun from the onslaught of everything, noise and lights and embarrassment forcing a very unwelcome wetness to gather in his eyes. The hand Wade was holding shook lightly. His whole body trembled. Fuck, he wanted to say something, wanted to assure his boyfriend that he was okay, but his throat worked, his mouth opened, yet nothing came out.

"Hey" Wade's voice was so soft. He didn't flinch this time as his hand came to rest on his cheek, the touch featherlight and warm.

An embarrassingly high whimper left him as some shrieking children passed by and his eyes screwed shut, trusting Wade to handle the rest.

And suddenly...

Wait.

Madonna quietly played in his ears?

Confused, he cracked his eyes open and saw Wade watching him, holding his phone up for him to see.

"Don't worry your pretty head Wolvie, you've got noise cancelling headphones on. Courtesy of moi, if you please, buuut you gotta suffer through my shower playlist for the time being. It's the only one I have downloaded."

An opened note read. Wade mouthed a "sorry" at him, but the sheepish grin told him he wasn't. At all. Though Logan knew him well enough, so very well, that if he even mentioned that it was too much Wade would immediately switch it all off.

Logan had to admit, the music dialed the incessant chattering and shouting around him pretty much down to zero.

The wonders of technology, he supposed.

Wade held his hand and waited patiently as Logan just breathed for a bit, trying to calm his racing heartbeat. One jerky motion to the phone and the mercenary handed it over, watching as Logan typed with unsteady hands.

"Can we leave please? S too much"

The note was so timid, so careful in fear of rejection that Wade felt his poor heart squeeze in his chest - gosh dang it if only people knew how gentle and loving the man in front of him was.

"Sure hun we were pretty much finished anyway. You good if we go check out real quick? Al's gonna cook us instead if we don't bring something back home, and while you taste pretty good I can't promise that for myself ;-D... we can use the self check out, it's quicker"

Logan surprised both of them with the huff of amusement that left him as he nodded.

The focus he needed to use to read Wade's rambling in note form kept him safe from getting lost in his head again. His boyfriend’s ability to talk forever beyond might be pretty annoying at times, but Logan had long since found it to be comforting.

Wade carefully guided both of them through the maze of food aisles and too many people, keeping their hands intertwined while he pushed their cart until they found a free self checkout.

Logan zoned out a bit to the mindless music that played over the headphones as Wade went through their groceries, bagging them quickly. He payed before turning around to face him, motioning to the exit with his head.

They stopped just outside the store in a small secluded corner and Wade put the bags down at their feet, stepping closer and smiling again.

Logan smiled back, hoping it could convey the relief and love he felt without having to use words. He leaned closer, a little shyly, and with a quick look around he pressed a kiss to Wade's lips, reveling in the vibrations of a slight whine he could feel from his boyfriend. They parted and Logan took a deep breath in, pushing the air out of his lungs a lot more calmly than he had done mere minutes ago.

The headphones came off next and Logan sighed, shaking off the last bit of the sensory overload he'd just experienced as he scrubbed over his eyes. It was far more quiet outside, and his head felt a little fuzzy at most instead of the stinging buzz from before.

Cars honked in the distance, a light breeze drifted past him and the man he loved stood right in front of him, Logan's supernatural hearing picking up the steady thud of his heartbeat almost immediately.

"Love you bub."

Thank you.

"I love you too peanut! So much. More than Puppins too, but don't tell her that. She's already peed in my shoes once and I can tell you, that golden shower was not pleasant."

Logan snorted and both of them giggled, sharing another soft kiss before they hoisted the grocery bags back up.

The way home was filled with banter, clumsy kisses and bumping shoulders. Maybe one or two spilled milk cartoons as well, but that was a secret between them.

(Oh hello! Wade here! Deadpool, merc with a mouth, your personal wet dream, whatever pleases you perverted little readers - if you even attempt to tell Al about that last bit I'll torture this one with a little more writer's block! /Oh thanks Wade, so nice of you/ Shush you, this is my side note! So many ideas yet so little words... you decide pookies. Bye for now! I've got 400 pounds of sleepy kitty in my bed who likes me as his personal pillow. See ya!)

[sojourner-between-worlds]

Things about being a Christian I've had to unlearn as an adult:

Spending a lot of time on/ being invested in something doesn't make it an idol. This is not how that works, bestie. Look. I get that the advice "if you spend more time on x hobby than you do reading the Bible and praying" is well-intentioned, but it's just plain Bad. There are a lot of hobbies that take significant amounts of time. Art. Writing. Trade hobbies, like woodworking. I spent two hours Saturday putting in a garden (now that I have space for one!), and not spending two hours and one minute on Bible reading doesn't mean that gardening is now an idol for me. It means I got into a groove and just kept going (and got terribly sunburned for my trouble). What makes something an idol is NOT how much time you spend on it but rather the importance you place upon it. Sometimes important things take five minutes and sometimes they take an hour; the thing that took five minutes isn't less important because it took up less of your time. If your thought process is "this is more important than spending time with God", that is what makes your hobby an idol. (If you are constantly foregoing your time with God in favor of a hobby, then I'd say you need to re-evaluate your priorities, but spending a lot of time on something does not inherently make it an idol. Not to mention that a lot of hobbies can still bring you closer to God despite not spending that time intentionally for that purpose.)

Not having your "quiet time"/ devotions every day does not make you a "bad" Christian. This goes hand-in-hand with the previous point, and there's a lot I could say on this topic, but what it boils down to is this: God understands our human limits and the brains He gave us that sometimes make it difficult -- autism and ADHD and OCD and [fill in the blank]. I'm autistic. So when (well-meaning) people say things like, "you can't get to know God if you don't spend time with Him!" about praying and reading the Bible -- well, 'spending time' looks different for me. Socializing is difficult for me. And while socializing with God is obviously different than with people, praying is still far more mentally draining for me than for most people (especially growing up in an environment where it was implied that you have to 'say the right things' when you pray instead of just allowing it to be a conversation, but that's the next point). A lot of "socializing" for me is simply being present with someone else. This is called "parallel play": you're doing your own thing in the same space as someone else while they are also doing their own thing. This...doesn't translate well to Christianity and what Christianity is "supposed" to look like, unfortunately, so I constantly felt shame that none of the common advice worked for me when it seemed to work for everyone else. Set a time? Executive dysfunction makes switching tasks hard and once that set time has passed, "well, it's too late now". Having a reading plan? I'd miss a day, fall behind, and the shame at that would keep me from continuing to try. And when I did manage to stay on track, quite often it simply became a box to check off and that was it. So, now, I do what I can, when I can. I always get more out of it, and I think God cares more about that than sticking to a plan just so you can say you read every day anyway.

"Don't script your prayers! They'll become repetitive and you won't think about or mean them!" Oh, boy. Once again, I get the well-intentioned meaning here. You don't want your prayers to become rote and stale. But as someone with high anxiety, scripting them is the only way I can survive praying aloud with other people, and, in fact, it means I put more thought into them, not less! But hearing this kind of advice coupled with an environment where it was implied you had to say 'the right things, the right way' was absolutely detrimental to my prayer life growing up. I was always worried about saying the wrong thing, especially as an undiagnosed autistic who was constantly, ya know, saying the wrong things in conversations with people. So I definitely didn't want to say the wrong things to God! But... I also wasn't allowed to plan what to say? How was I supposed to pray then? So I just. didn't pray. For a very long time. Until I learned its just as perfectly okay to talk to God about whatever crosses your mind while you're standing at the sink doing dishes as it is sitting down with a list of things to focus on. (Not to mention that this really is just...terrible advice in general. Kudos to my pastor, who, in his current Sunday night series on worship, actually gave a tutorial on how to personalize praying the Psalms. So, you know, pre-written prayers.)

Purity Culture. Need I say more? Oh, I could write a whole post about how harmful this is, but plenty of people already have, so I'll leave it at this: I wear what I am comfortable wearing now. Something I love about my church is that our philosophy on modesty is this: The greatest sin of immodesty is saying "look at me" instead of "look at God." In other words, modest isn't about what you're wearing so much as what your attitude about what you're wearing is. If you choose what to wear because you want people to notice and stare and give you compliments, then that is immodest no matter how much of your skin is covered up. It's not immodest to wear clothes you like and that you think are attractive (or that help you look professional when its called for), but ultimately your mindset is really not about "dressing to impress." (There is a very thin line between 'modest' and 'immodest' and its not where most people think it is.)

[calciumdeficientt]

Wade and Tom hcs pleaseeeee 🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽

I lov u wade i lov you tom. I actually have a whole post of tom hcs that you can check out here:

but i for sure have a few left in the tank!!!!!!1! Im gonna spritz some of my remaining tom ones, release my wade ones unto the world and then zoom in a little on their relationship >:D

TOM GURNEY AND WADE MARTIN HCS

TOM GURNEY

Skin picker. Big time skin picker. He just cant seem to help himself, its sort of a nervous tic. If he could just leave his fucking face alone for five minutes his acne would have cleared up a long time ago. Most of the marks on his face are actually just scars because he wont stop PICKING!!!!!

Saw the hobo get beamed up after the last fighting moves mission, i know this is pretty much canon atp but i think what would make it so much more batshit is if it had happened in BROAD DAYLIGHT. And no one other than tom gave a fuck. He comes out with all kinds of stupid conspiracy shit on the daily so no one even thinks to try and argue. They’re all like “yeeeah okay buddy whatever you say..”

Very emotionally mature, because of this he’s very painfully aware of all his shortcomings. He’s a good dude at heart but its aside pf him people never see. He’s pretty well renowned as the clique tapper, but honestly, he only talks so much because he doesnt wanna worry his friends by being all quiet and mysterious.

WADE MARTIN

MAAAAAAJOR little brother syndrome. He and Christy are only a year or so apart (possibly projecting bc that’s the gap between me and MY brother) but he gives me the vibe of a little kid who feels the need to show off because he’s younger. His general demeanour and outlook on the world tells me that he’s sort of crying out for attention and to some degree, help. He talks a lot about repeated suspensions, and the fact that no one seems to care about them anymore, and also the fact that he’s not doing all that well in his classes. He’s a kid that neeeds intervention, a firm shove in the right direction… and maybe some counselling. He’s practically jumping up and down on the spot yelling ‘LOOK AT ME! LOOK AT MEEE!’

More family hcs, but he and Christy only share their father. They have different mothers. Both women aren’t really in the picture beyond what the custody laws state they have to be. Christy’s mum left her with their dad when she was a baby, and Wade’s mum was his side piece. They divorced when Wade was 11. He hates both their guts for separating in what was a pretty tumultuous transition period in his life. If I’m getting my numbers right, 10-11 is the transition from elementary school to middle school. It was during this time that Wade started to struggle, he was a gifted student in his early years, and thus was left to his own devices. Because of that lack of support, his grades slipped and slipped and slipped, he just barely passed the entrance exam to get into Bullworth, and then started outright failing.

His hyper sexual voice lines are a way of deflecting away from how he really feels. Encouraged by his father, Wade feels he has to be this big, macho guy. He’s been brought up by his dad to believe high school is all about chasing tail and finding someone willing to have your kids straight out of the gate. In his head, Wade’s not about that at all. He wasn’t quite ready to be a man, he’d have liked a few more years of being a kid. Manhood is this big, scary, complex thing that he’s not ready for yet.. especially if its anything like Mr Martin tells him it is.

Takes great pride in his hair, but he does dye it. You can’t be a ginger bully, that’s like a spoon with holes in it or concrete scuba flippers. It doesnt work, its weird. It’s ugly. He and Trent do their hair together, he trusts Trent with it more than he trusts himself, the kid has been bleaching his own hair since he was 12, he’s a professional. And besides, he’s not gonna pay someone in a salon to dye it, what if he gets caught????

WADE AND TOM

They’re very close friends, I think wade was one of Tom’s first friends at Bullworth, back when he was this scrawny, quiet kid with a big ol birthmark over his eye. Wade had intended to beat the crap out of him to show him what was what, he looked weak and easy to snap. All brittle like a wafer cookie. Upon seeing his eye, Wade wrongfully assumed that someone has beat him to it, and knowing what a tumultuous home life could do to a kid, he invited Tom to come sit with them at lunch and he just… never left.

They really remind me of Troy and Abed from community dynamic-wise. One emotionally mature, but mildly childish dude (Tom) and one smarter than he appears meathead (Wade). Where they differ from Troy and Abed is instead of building blanket forts and acting out TV shows, they give swirlies and smoke cigarettes like they’re going out of fashion. “…” “…” “you wanna go do burnouts in the train yard dont you Wade” “Get OUUTA MY FRIGGIN BRAIN MAN! How’d you know that?!” “Lucky guess.”

Closer with each other than anyone else in the bullies clique. They lay on the roof after curfew and talk. For HOURS. They’ve been doing it for so long now that they’ve started smuggling sleeping bags and blankets up there so they can just sleep once they’re done. Wade likes that he can be open with his troubles about home., his many many troubles. Every day there’s a new home trouble. Tom talks about his fears about the secrecy at Bullworth and his theories, he feels like Wade is the only one that even bothers to TRY and see his point of view. Wade cries a lot during these little almost-therapy sessions. And Tom is right there with him, patting his back and wiping his tears. It’s cute.

Garage band duo. Tom is the drummer, Wade plays the three power chords he knows on his busted up hand-me-down Stratocaster that can barely plug into the amp anymore and really desperately needs new strings, and screams into the mic. It’s pretty hardcore, but it doesn’t actually sound all that bad. They work pretty well as a two piece and have played a total of four gigs, but its always been foe them anyway. They don’t wasn’t the gig money or the fame, they just wanna rock out.

[dontwantnoneunlessyougotmunson]

I don't know how comfortable you would be with this request but-

Eddie x Autistic!Reader who's on the verge of having a meltdown because they're just super overwhelmed 👉👈🥺

Can be gender neutral or female!reader, super fluffy pls?

I am 100% comfortable with this request. I hope it helps you, dear.🥺💙 Thank you for requesting from me, sweet anonnie.

Meltdown (Eddie x GN Reader)

"Eddie, I need to go."

"Yeah, I know, baby. We're going right now."

You stood in the checkout line for the grocery store, a few customers ahead of you. Your foot tapped anxiously and squinted underneath the blinding lights. The sound of the small group of people chatting while waiting began to make your ears buzz. The swarm of noise overwhelmed your body and you started to feel clammy. Your vision flickered and you grabbed his arm for support.

"No, I need to get out of here now."

He looked at you, worried, and nodded, he passed the keys off to you and gently nudged you toward the door.

"I'll be at the van in a second, just let me pay for our stuff first."

You grasped the keys tight in your fist, squeezing so hard that the ridges poked against your palm. You sped out to the van, unlocked it and sat in the passenger seat. A desperate whine escaped you and you kicked off your shoes and climbed in the backseat. Eddie had made it a safe space for you to be in, where you could lay down on a soft blanket and a few pillows. You grabbed one of the pillows and curled around it, running your finger over the material of the blanket.

You curled tighter in on yourself and whimpered, trying to get your body to relax. This was the worst part: feeling your mind and body run away without you, just having to be helpless as it happened. Eddie opened the front door so he could get in, put the groceries in the backseat and peek over the seat down at you.

"Hey, baby," he mumured. "You want some company?"

You nodded and he kicked off his shoes into the floor and followed you into the back. He put the other pillow under his cheek and smiled softly.

"Do you want to be touched right now?"

Lacking energy for even the simplest of words, you simply lifted your pinkie and he nodded. He linked his pinkie with yours and rested your hands between you. You sighed, feeling a little better that he was with you now. You were slightly more settled but still uncomfortable and feeling constricted, you yanked off your jacket. You laid back down and slid your hand to his. He tenderly rested his on top, twining your fingers together.

"What was it that felt so overwhelming, sweetheart?"

Tears leaked out of your eyes and you mumbled, "Lights. People. Too many sounds. Felt like drowning."

"Oh, baby," he said sadly. He held his arms open and you scooted closer before turning over, your back to his front. He wrapped his arms around your body and whispered, "Squeeze?"

You nodded and he tightened his grasp around your waist and over your chest. You sighed in relief at the feeling of security.

"Sorry, Eddie."

A pout came through clearly in his voice as he said, "I don't want you to ever feel guilty for reacting in a way that you can't control. You're not hurting anyone. Nothing to be sorry for, just let me take care of you."

[silverwings22]

Song of the Sea: Chapter 18: Arms Race

Chapter Warnings: Nothing this time. Series Warnings: explicit smut, alien anatomy (it's a monsterfucker fic, guys), major character injury, grief, canon typical violence, autistic meltdowns, and my terrible attempts at Mando'a.

Previous chapter:

Next chapter:

“I can’t believe you let Shiani fly, but I have to prove I memorized all the ship specs before I can.” Omega was standing behind Tech in the pilot seat, staring a hole in his head. Echo was trying not to snicker at her indignant little face, lest her pint-sized wrath be turned on him next. Shiani was sitting behind him with her datapad, and looked over at the girl with a head-cocked smile. “That’s not fair, Tech. Even if she is your girlfriend.”

“Shiani is an adult.” Tech said with a sigh. “It is only natural that there will differences in your training-”

“I already had the ship specs memorized, Baby Mega.” The siren chuckled. “And he only let me take off once. Don’t worry about me learning faster, I’ve had more time to learn. I started memorizing specs back on Kamino.” 

Tech craned his head back. “You did?” 

She nodded. “My comm was one of Wrecker’s old ones. It had ship information buried in the code. Once you taught me to read Basic, it was just a matter of getting into the files.” She smiled proudly. 

Echo whistled. “That’s impressive.”

“I like to know how things work. Then I can fix them, or make them better.” She smiled. “Tech opened up whole new worlds for me to learn. I knew most things underwater… I used to be the Minister of Security in Acopit. I probably got most of the city lights and perimeter protections to work for another ten years or so… I wanted to improve them, and eventually see the sirens come out of the water.” Her smile faded and she shook her head, looking back at her datapad. “That was before.” 

Omega frowned, recalling her friend’s synopsis of exile, back on Salucemi. Shiani had seemed okay with it then, but she knew her better now. She was not.

Omega sighed and snuggled up to her. “What are you studying now?”

“How the weapons that Cid gave us to sell work. Then I can duplicate them, or fix anything that breaks.” The siren explained, putting an arm around her little friend.

Omega nodded, leaning on Shiani as the siren started showing her the parts of a standard blaster and common differences. Tech could only glance occasionally and go back through his memory. 

Have I ever asked her about her life before we met? 

She'd told him she'd been exiled. She'd even happily given him glimpses into her people’s complicated history with his creators; but try as he might Tech couldn't recall her telling him her personal story prior to banishment. He vaguely recalled her saying she’d been 19 when they met, though he wasn’t clear on how her people aged. She'd mentioned an older brother and both parents in passing…

Conversation halted when they landed on the moon of Ryloth, spotting a twi'lek ship waiting for them. Hunter put his helmet on. “Omega, Shiani, stay on board. You can watch from the hatch.”

Shiani nodded and let the men take the cargo before she sat on the steps with Omega. “The twi’leks have a little one with them too..” 

“She looks older than me by a little.” Omega grinned. “Oh, she's coming over here.”

Shiani chuckled. “Make a new friend. I’ll keep lookout.”

About that time the young green twi'lek got into earshot. “Whoa… what kind of ship is this?”

“A modified Omicron class gunship.” Omega grinned. 

“Can I look around? I'm Hera Syndulla, by the way.” Hera had pretty green eyes and an electric excitement about her. 

“I'm Omega. This is Shiani… do you have a last name, Shiani?”

“Not anymore.” The siren shook her head. 

Omega looked over. “Hunter, can I let her aboard?”

The sergeant glanced over and gave a quick nod before looking back at the twi'lek he was talking to about the shipment. The two girls raced up the hatch steps to tour the Marauder, leaving her to her thoughts. 

She needed to find a way to contribute more. They were missing a sniper, with Crosshair absent… but she doubted she'd ever develop that level of skill and competence with a rifle. A pistol like Tech used was more likely as he, Echo, and Hunter could train her effectively. But that didn't diversify their skillset. Wrecker covered melee. Tech had technology covered, and Echo overlapped that alongside his ARC trooper training and cybernetics. Hunter was a leader and incredible with a knife…

With as often as they got into stealth style missions, her singing and screams didn’t seem all that useful. She was a decent mechanic and assistant to Tech, but that still left much of the work on him. He was already so overworked. All of them were. How could she be more helpful? This was her family now. It needed protecting.

Behind her, Omega was showing Hera around. “And this is my room. Well, it's also the gunner's mount, but I sleep here when no one's shooting at us.”

“You live on board?” Hera's accent was cute, Shiani thought. She sounded so surprised. “All of you?”

“Yeah. The guys are all my brothers, they sleep in the bunkroom. And Shiani used to have a bedroom in the tailgun. She doesn't sleep there anymore though. She moved into the bunkroom to share with Tech.”

Hera lowered her voice a little, but it didn’t stop Shiani from overhearing. “Who is she, anyway? I've never seen anyone like her before.”

“She's a siren, from Kamino. She's Tech's girlfriend, but she's also my best friend now… sometimes things are scary, but my brothers don't even blink cause they're soldiers and they're used to it. It's nice to have someone who puts things in perspective.”

Shiani's anxious thoughts dissolved. She did have a purpose here; a support for her little friend Omega. What the soldiers didn't know how to do, she did. Interact with a child. 

She looked up as the male twi'lek adult called for Hera and the clones started walking back to the ship. The two girls hurriedly exchanged comm contact and parted with waves, leaving Shiani chuckling as Omega popped up by her side. “So you did make a friend.”

“Yeah. She's nice, I like her.” Omega nodded. “She says the Empire is doing something bad on her planet.”

“Everything it does is bad..” Shiani put an arm around the girl. “Good people fight back, like Gobi Glie.” Her head nodded towards the blue male shaking hands with Hunter once more.  “Making a stand is hard.”

“Did you make one on Kamino?” Omega looked up. 

“Not really. I wasn’t even brave enough to show my brother my teeth. But I have things worth standing for now, like you and your brothers.” She gave Omega a grin. “Am I really your best friend?”

“Other than AZI, you're my only friend that's not my brother.”

“What is AZI?” The siren blinked. 

“He's a medical droid that was in Nala Se’s lab. He was the only friend I had on Kamino.”

“I should have looked in more windows when the sea swells came..” Shiani snuggled her. “Best friends now. We’ll make up for lost time.”

“Yeah!” 

Hunter raised an eyebrow as they approached. “You two good?”

“Baby Mega called me her best friend!” Shiani said proudly. 

Hunter looked ever so slightly deflated. Wrecker and Echo tried not to snicker. Tech just reached for Shiani. “It seems Omega has good taste. Did you learn anything from your conversation with that girl?”

Omega nodded. “Yes. Did you know flying is a feeling?”

“A feeling? What sort of feeling?” Tech frowned, following her into the ship with Shiani beside him. Omega joined them in the cockpit to start their way back to Ord Mantell, listening to the girl chatter with interest. Shiani just gave her the co-pilot seat and gave him a kiss before letting them have their sibling moment. He flushed and slipped his fingers into hers. 

Squeeze squeeze squeeze. 

Omega gave Tech a conspiratorial look as Shiani left the room. “You really love her, don’t you?”

“I do.” Tech adjusted his goggles. 

“So you must wanna go cuddle with her. I can fly while you do.” The hopeful look on Omega’s face was dashed with Tech gave her one of his signature looks. 

“I think I can handle the trip back. But that was a clever attempt. You cannot use Shiani against me.” 

Omega sighed. “It was worth a shot.” 

“A shot you missed.” Tech looked up as Echo snorted from the cockpit door. “What?”

“I’ll mind the controls. Go see your girl.” The corporal chuckled. “And no, Omega, I won’t let you fly either.”

Tech nodded and handed over the controls to his brother before walking back to the bunkroom. He'd always struggled with a regular sleep schedule, working until he crashed and getting back to it after a short nap. His bunk was usually filled with parts and wires, the walls covered in chalk equations from his never resting mind. He barely used it anyway, falling asleep in the cockpit or work table most often. 

At least until Shiani. She'd tutted and fussed about his neck being stiff or back being sore until he'd relented and actually laid down. And when he'd realized she was sleeping in the strangest possible angles to avoid laying on his scrap work, he'd cleaned the bed out and changed the sheets. Next to his formulas was a little doodle of two round, cartoonish heads close together. One was finned and tentacled, one had big goggles… her contribution to his equations. He liked them better than the math.

She had cuddled herself into a pillow, on her side, when Tech laid down  next to her. “Thought you were flying back.”

“I was relieved early, and I prefer to be here.” He smiled. To his surprise, she fastened herself to his back like a jetpack. Being the little spoon was oddly soothing, especially when Shiani pressed her forehead against the back of his shoulder. "You know it is customary for the larger partner to be behind the smaller one. It fosters the release of endorphins and a feeling of safety." He smiled, running his fingers over hers on his stomach. 

"You need to feel safe sometimes too." She nuzzled more comfortably into his back.

As a sucker-studded coil draped over his hip, Tech had to think over that. For most people, the idea of a venomous and nearly unheard of creature holding them was anything but comforting… but he did feel safe with Shiani, possibly safer than he ever had before… what the hell had she done to him? 

He glanced over his shoulder at her head against his skin, her breath deep and even. He'd never really slept in his bunk since he was a cadet… but now he was beginning to wonder if he ever wanted to leave it. 

A short nap was in order anyway.

[slutty-urbanist]

Beneath the Mask from Persona 5 is a song about Autism

The first verse: Where have you been? /Been searching all along /Came facing twilight on and on /Without a clue /Without a sign /Without grasping yet /The real question to be asked Where have I been?

This is about growing up autistic but being undiagnosed. There's something different about you. Something weird. You know this, everyone knows this, but you don't know exactly what. "Came facing twilight on and on [...] Without grasping yet, The real question to be asked."

The first chorus: I'm a shapeshifter /At Poe's masquerade /Hiding both face and mind /All free for you to draw /I'm a shapeshifter /What else should I be? /Please don't take off my mask /Revealing dark

Here the concept of masking is introduced. Autistic masking is when autistic people hide their autistic traits to try to pass as neurotypical. It involves suppressing one's authentic self in order to more easily fit into society. It provides security at the cost of connection. As you can imagine, this has negative mental health outcomes. "Hiding both face and mind, All free for you to draw." This line shows us that the author is masking to fit in with society. "Please don't take off my mask, Revealing dark." This shows that the author is scared of unmasking being their authentic self.

The second verse: Moments of calm /Nothing left to be found /A mirror right in front of me /That's where I find /An empty glass /Reflecting the sad truth /It's telling words not to be told /I need the mask

This verse could represent the author discovering that they're autistic. Another interpretation is that they discover that they won't be accepted by society if they don't mask.

The second chorus: I'm a shapeshifter /At Poe's masquerade /Hiding both face and mind /All free for you to draw /I'm a shapeshifter /Chained down to my core /Please don't take off my mask /My place to hide

The author feels trapped in this verse. "Chained down to my core."

The third verse: I can't tell you /How to see me /Just a cage of bones /There's nothing inside /Will it unleash me? /Burning down the walls /Is there a way /For me to break?

In this verse, the author really wants to break free and be their authentic self, wearing the mask has taken its toll. But they're struggling to unmask. "Will it unleash me? Burning down the walls." The author is worried that being themselves would ruin their life and relationships but also acknowledges the possibility that things could get better. "Burning down the walls" could mean destroying the things they've built so far, or it could mean tearing down the barriers between them and others.

The third chorus: I'm a shapeshifter /At Poe's masquerade /Hiding both face and mind /All free for you to draw /I'm a shapeshifter /Have no face to show /Please don't take off my mask /My disguise

The author has masked for so long, created so many different personalities for different people that they don't know who they really are any more. "I'm a shapeshifter, Have no face to show."

Do you agree with my analysis?

[ladybirdplace]

Mindfulness

Content Warning: Descriptions of autistic overstimulation and panic attacks. Mentions of suicidality and passing mention of self harm.

You know, I’ve never really resonated with mindfulness at all. Being in the present moment is the exact moment that I do not want to be in when I’m upset.

Being present is scary. I know that the kind of people who have therapized me in the past would find it hard to believe that when I’m panicking, I am in the present moment. Yes, maybe I am thinking about the future or the past but being within the moment itself is bad enough if you know something is gonna happen to you. It doesn’t matter if it won’t happen right that instant, just the fact that it’s going to happen is bad enough.

I don’t panic about possible events or things like that, I panic solely about things that are going to happen, commitments I’ve made that I cannot get out of, going somewhere I don’t wanna be, talking to people, being around people, doing things I don’t want to do, and my panic is only abated if whatever is going to happen is called off, nothing more, nothing less.

I hate being conscious of my body. I already am hyper conscious of my body because I’m autistic. I hate thinking about my breathing, or feeling anything at all, actually.

I’m extremely conscious of the fact that my entire body is tensing and radiating heat, my hearing is muffled and my head is full of cotton, adrenaline is slowly being fed into my bloodstream with every second that passes and there is an increasing pressure inside my skin pressing outward trying to break my skin open unless I start hurting myself to release it.

Even when I’m not panicking, being conscious of my body makes me feel worse, not better.

And knowing what I’m feeling isn’t the problem. I know exactly what I’m feeling and why and exactly from what mental problem of mine it comes from. That doesn’t help at all.

This is more CBT stuff, but my emotions don’t respond to reason. In fact, them being irrational is part of the problem. The fact that I know they’re irrational makes me more scared or upset or angry. I feel helpless because I am helpless to my emotions. My emotions ruin my fucking life every day of my life, and very little helps at all.

And sometimes, the only reason I haven’t killed myself yet is because my instinct to avoid any risk at all, to think myself into the ground before I do anything, wouldn’t allow me to do anything so dangerous.

I’m still working on the process of just letting my thoughts pass without attaching any emotional significance to them, knowing that they often are trying to provoke me. I’m not good at it at all. Having OCD and ADD sucks because I’ll decide not to acknowledge my intrusive thoughts or refuse to do a mental compulsion and immediately forget that I was trying to do that and get swept up in the thought.

That's really the only standard mindfulness practice I actually find useful.

But of course, this post is about the way that I mostly practice mindfulness in regards to my love for myself.

My favorite thing is when I’m sad or lonely or worried, and suddenly I think of myself, how I’m there with myself. It’s like your partner looking at you, and saying, "hi!"

And you say, "hi," and smile. And you remember you’re not alone.

And I say to myself, "I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I married you for a reason. I’m your spouse, no matter what. I chose you. I still choose you. I’m going to stay with you. And I’ll always be with you. Remember all we've been through? I understand. I hear you."

And then I smile, and feel better.

It's really the only grounding that makes me feel better at all. Nothing else works.

I’m doing my best to give myself as much care as possible. This winter has hit me hard, and I constantly feel lonely and needy.

I crave love and affection, and I’m trying to do my best to give it to myself instead of spiraling into rumination and hopelessness.

[riddle-me-ri]

Heyo everybody! HAPPY NEW YEAR! 

I have another wee update before the start of the new year! (and I have to pass out in order to be up and at work at 7 am rip)

First off, I just wanted to thank you guys so much for your support and for getting me out of a tough spot this last couple of weeks. A lot of stuff was going on and getting into my head. I'm getting better at it, slowly but surely…and taking it day by day.

However, there's something I kinda wanna get off my chest, in hopes that maybe it can alleviate some of my other anxieties of posting and creating content...

I've been mulling over how to make this post for a hot minute. And I think I'm ready to finally put it out there, especially in time for the new year where I have no doubt more requests will be rolling in.

I won't highlight or detail any specific requests in my inbox I have now, but I will just say I have unfortunately had to delete several requests in my inbox that I feel I wasn't able to get to or I feel like I wasn't able to fulfill properly. 

I know some of you wonder if it may or may not be yours, I don’t really wanna share the ones I didn’t do because I don’t wanna put anyone on blast (even if its anon, I don’t want anyone to feel discouraged) plus they’ve already been deleted so I couldn’t go back and find them if I tried. 

However, here’s some…I guess hints? To what type of requests may have gotten deleted? Or like what to avoid requesting me in the future? I dunno the best way to put it rip

I do ask you guys to refrain from things involving parenthood, pregnancy, or children. 

Pregnancy scares the shit out of me. I know to many it’s a beautiful natural thing, but all I can think about is the movie Alien and having some being sucking the life force out of me. I can get the appeal in some ways, but not enough to where I feel comfortable writing about it. 

I deal with kids on a fairly regular basis (I work at a pet store that some people use as a free day care) so it's hard for me to like...get in the mindset for them. I just can’t stand kids that have had zero discipline and coming home from work to try and work on a request with kids is just really difficult for me rip

I know I wrote one thing with the Riddler's being dads, and I had fun with the dialogue and the hilarious scenario, but that's as far as I want it to go.

Another type of request I’ve been struggling with, is requests dealing with mental health. I’ve gotten a couple requests for an autistic reader and I’ve tried doing research and asking around, but I’m worried that no matter how much research I do…I won’t ever be able to fully grasp it in terms of a character that has it. I can write about anxiety and depression cause I suffer from it, but I don’t wanna risk the chance of offending someone or being way off! I’d highly advise that you guys reach out to authors that are autistic and can write your neat ideas to full proper fruition! I have no doubt they’d appreciate the opportunity!  

One more thing, please when requesting, give me everything you can think of. The more suggestions, ideas, prompts, etc. you guys give me the more I can work with. 

It doesn't have to be anything crazy specific but something other than "*insert character trope* reader and riddler" would be gratefully appreciated. 

I do appreciate the creative freedom, but it’s also really easy to feel like I’m just a content engine meant to just pump something out from the bare minimum. 

I hope this helps!

 I just wanna apologize in advance to all the people who sent me a request that got deleted. The number was just getting too much for me and I wanna make room for newer requests in the future and alleviate some of the pressure of not being able to fulfill a certain idea or prompt.

Thank you guys so much for understanding, I hope you know that I still appreciate the fact so many of you trust me with your ideas but some of them I just couldn't find the inspiration for or couldn't get in a proper headspace for and just hope you guys can understand!

I love you all! Here’s to a happy new year! See you guys soon!

[lost-kingsmen]

((I started this post way too late at night and couldn't finish articulating everything so I drafted it. Now it's once again way too late at night and we're taking a swing of finishing, GO.

SO! *slams hands on the desk* The idea is that the original "Kadonnut" - the devil-esque figure in the teachings of the Church of the Burning Root/Callahan's isolated hometown and the original owner of the powers that Callahan now possesses - was a being from the Infinite Realms. Yes we're pulling god-of-the-frozen-heart(h) content over to here this blog has more activity and thus more eyes to tell me when I misspell something.))

"Kadonnut" was an ageless being (Ancient?? Not sure still toying with it) with a well-earned reputation for violence who somehow wandered into the living world through a relatively stable natural portal somewhere in northern Lapland before the 19th century. For lack of better words he becomes enamored with a small tribe of Sami peoples the same way an autistic shepherd would be with their sheep, and through his repeated visits to the area he (somewhat accidentally) becomes the guardian figure of this tribe and protects them from other, nastier things that had been coming through the portal to hunt and cause chaos for the living for who knows how long.

Eventually, Kadonnut starts spending so much time in the living world that he gets stranded there when the portal inevitably shrinks too much for him to fit back through, but he can still draw enough ectoplasm through it to sustain himself, so he isn't too worried, and starts getting more involved with the daily lives of the tribe, which has grown under his protection. They set up a sort of gathering place that would later become the founding site of the town of Vargkonung in the area near the portal, and Kadonnut builds a shelter around the portal itself to help corral the creatures that still came through it.

The people start to leave him offerings. Kadonnut things it's a bit strange but likes the attention and doesn't stop them. The spirits that used to torment the land are growing hungry and restless, as they can't feed off of the humans' fear with Kadonnut keeping them at bay. The hungry spirits end up banding together under the command of their strongest, and attack Kadonnut in an effort to overwhelm him at a time when most of the humans were all back at the village so their feed would strengthen them. Kadonnut can't fight them all, and some of the spirits get a little overzealous and start attacking the humans instead of just frightening them.

Kadonnut loses his temper and takes most of them out with one large AoE attack, but this attack wipes out most of the humans as well. The only survivors of the massacre are a handful of spirits who fled the battle and a small group of humans who managed to hide in the shelter around the portal before Kadonnut's final attack. Regretful that his outburst had almost destroyed the people he was trying to protect, Kadonnut became much more protective of the survivors. Their worship of him resumes, but there is fear there now.

Fear the surviving spirits can taste.

One of the surviving spirits who fled from the battle notices that Kadonnut is going dormant more and more as the days pass (the portal is still shrinking, and Kadonnut can't draw as much ectoplasm through it as he used to so he has to ration his energy). They take on the form of a human and infiltrate the now-village, waiting until Kadonnut enters another period of dormancy to start whispering dissent and acting as their own prophet.

I haven't quite figured out the details yet, but the spirit gains enough power by sowing fear of Kadonnut in the people while the big guy is dormant that they can drag him out of the village and into the wilderness. The spirit starts calling themselves "The All-Seeing Shepherd" and forms a loyal cult out of the people by taking up Kadonnut's job of 'protecting' them from the monstrous spirits outside the village's limits (which also work for the All-Seeing).

This village grows and evolves and eventually becomes Vargkonung, Finland, with the All-Seeing Shepherd still running the show but now with a larger following with deep roots and an almost world-wide reach. The portal is somehow still open (for Reasons) but never stopped shrinking and is now a hand-sized tear in reality that the All-Seeing guards viciously.

Kadonnut knows that his usurper would expect him to come charging back to respond with brute force, so he decides to play the long game and wait for an opening the same way the All-Seeing had. He's...not good at finding an opening, and centuries pass before he realizes he's losing too much strength just waiting around and starts to get desperate.

He tries to infiltrate the All-Seeing's sanctuary by inhabiting the body of a villager, but didn't realize how much the portal had shrunk, and couldn't absorb enough ectoplasm from just being in the town to be anything more than a dormant consciousness in his chosen host until they died. The fact that his chosen host - Ivan Callahan - bailed on the town to play hockey in America and died in the heart of a head-scratchingly tangled mess of ley lines and fae magic of multiple European origins thousands of miles away from Vargkonung was not a part of his plan.

Neither was Callahan being such a stubborn, competetive, strong-willed himbo that he almost immediately formed as a ghost on the wrong side of the veil because he wasn't dONE YET DAMNIT-

You know what? "Kadonnut" might not even be his real name. It's the Finnish word for "lost one" (which is how the bible of the cult church refers to him almost exclusively), and is probably what the humans called him at first bc he got stranded in the living world and was 'lost' in that sense.

[thebestorworstofit]

:// disney really tried to keep me 3 different times tonight

• first I get stuck on a ride to literally no one ever gets stuck on - like how are you going to keep people stuck 10 feet before a stop just bc yallllll forgot to water up the train that literally runs off STEAM.

• then the cast member assigning people rows on runaway was supercalfragalosticly ignorant and kept trying to put me with bigger groups (like yes it seats 5, but there’s no reason to squeeze that many in / it’s usually grouped in no more than 4) and when i tried to explain that i’m autistic and get uncomfortable that confined and asked to sit with a smaller party she legit looked me in the eyes and said “it’s okay you can do it i believe in you” when i’ve NEVER had a CM have any problem with helping me out when i’m by myself or with a friend (i’m very nice it’s not like i’m demanding or loud about it) and because she made me so uncomfortable and unsettled, it like ruined the experience for me, so i asked another cast member to help me exit - he showed me where to go AND YET I LITERALLY GOT LOST TRYING TO FIND MY WAY OUT OF A CARTOON HALLWAY. ended up in a place not for me and had to wait like 15 minutes for someone to walk me out while i’m already visibly upset (shout out to paul who walked me out and over to roger rabbit where he sent me to the front of the line to make up for the experience i had / bc obviously i told him everything like a freaking baby)

• AND THEN I go to leave. I’ve done my shopping. I have my coffee. I have my treats. I did my thing I am a happy camper again. So I get this wild idea to throw away any trash in my car before i leave - but to my surprise when I got to my car my keys weren’t in my disney bag… my keys were not anywhere on my person. So naturally, I had a full-blown freaking meltdown, because by that point, the park was closed.  which made going back through security, onto the tram and back to the front of the park super fun.  and then because I couldn’t go back into the park. I got to explain my whole situation to a security guard i can’t remember the name of, and like god bless that man he had no idea what to do with me but thankfully, I am very loud and one of the leads by the gate. Heard me freaking out, pulled me aside and had me list the stores and places i went into where I remember having my keys and she walkied every single one of those places, after about 10 minutes, we get worried that someone found my keys, but they had just sent someone with them to lost and found which led to an absolute angel named Melissa tracking this person down, getting my keys and bringing them up to the front of the park while poor sweet sharon just listened to me like cry for almost an hour while we waited for a resolution.

I definitely wouldn’t say it was a bad disney evening but man it was a time…

now, you would think with all of that one of those might be my low points for the evening, but no… I am shocked to say the worst part of my evening was when a large woman who was arguing with her husband and her children came and sat on me. Technically next to me, but next to me by not enough because her silent it on the outside of my thigh, and her arm was touching me. When I looked at her and I said oh, excuse me - yaknow the universal signal for hey I’m fucking existing here you cow please get out of my personal space. I may not need 3 feet anymore but 3 inches wouldn’t fucking hurt…. She just looked at me and turned back to her conversation.

As someone who is only vertically 5 feet and a lil change, I am used to being bumped into, passed over, and stepped on, it happens. It’s okay… what’s not okay is that this is the second time in a month that someone has sat on me. I do not understand this selectively invisible super power, and I will tell you right now I do not like it.

It took almost 3 extra hours to get home with all of these banana pants obstacles and now it’s 4 am - and ofc i am wide awake when i have work 2-10 and a cannaevent from 4-11.

if anyone’s down to come punch me in the face just to knock me out, lemme know - i’ll drop a pin. 

[the-lincyclopedia]

Look. I'm a) no longer a student and hopefully will never be a student again, and b) deeply ideologically opposed to AI. I'm not arguing with you about whether students should use AI to write papers. But the phrase "does not write like a college freshman" pulled me up short. I've already heard stories of autistic people being accused of using AI to write emails when, in fact, that's just how they write.

My family has home videos of me in elementary school saying things like, "And here we have none other than mini Kit" out loud while showing off my doll house. I did not sound like an eight-year-old when I was eight. I didn't really talk like a human. I talked like the books I read.

My final semester of high school, I finally got around to taking my phy ed credit (which I'd previously been too busy with academic classes to take, and which I had to drop Spanish to have room for as a senior). I got pretty badly injured in that class, and the teacher wanted to give me an incomplete, but since it was my final semester, she reluctantly agreed to let me write a paper instead in order to pass the class. I turned in the paper during the last week of school for seniors and graduated the following week, while the younger students still had class. And I heard from a younger student that, after I had walked at graduation, my phy ed teacher had read my paper (which she hadn't done before I graduated) and had wanted to fail me on plagiarism grounds, because "no high school student writes like that." I did not plagiarize the paper; I just wrote differently than the teacher expected.

I've developed a somewhat less formal writing register since ceasing to be a student (key word: somewhat), but in general, I sound like whatever I've read or listened to lately, and I always have. That means I sounded like a middle grade book narrator in elementary school and whatever assigned reading I'd done recently in high school and college. My brain also has a weird quirk where I forget simple English words first when I'm tired, so the more tired I am, the more likely I am to use long, complicated, formal words instead of simpler ones. You can imagine how that played out during times when I was overwhelmed with homework.

Luckily, since I talked extensively, cogently, and insightfully in class, most of my teachers and professors didn't try to accuse me of plagiarism when I didn't sound like most students my age, because my writing did sound like the person I was in class discussions. But accusations of plagiarism happened a few times, and they were pretty frustrating and demoralizing.

Obviously, "this is too sophisticated to have been written by someone your age" and "this is overly broad and doesn't respond directly to the prompt" are two different problems, and I don’t think my papers would have set off your AI alarm bells. But I think it's possible my writing would have set off your regular-plagiarism alarm bells, especially early in the semester before you'd interacted with me much. And given that autistic people are already being accused of using AI to write emails, I did want to bring up the risks involved with judging writing based on "does it sound like a human wrote this" or "does it sound like a college freshman wrote this."

Again, I fully agree that students shouldn't use AI to write their papers. I just worry about some students, particularly neurodivergent students, being accused of plagiarism when they write things themselves that "don't sound natural" or are "in the wrong register" for someone their age. And that worries me especially when innocence or guilt is very hard to prove, as with AI, and especially given what you said about what you plan to do if students try to claim they weren't using AI.

An important message to college students: Why you shouldn't use ChatGPT or other "AI" to write papers.

Here's the thing: Unlike plagiarism, where I can always find the exact source a student used, it's difficult to impossible to prove that a student used ChatGPT to write their paper. Which means I have to grade it as though the student wrote it.

So if your professor can't prove it, why shouldn't you use it?

Well, first off, it doesn't write good papers. Grading them as if the student did write it themself, so far I've given GPT-enhanced papers two Ds and an F.

If you're unlucky enough to get a professor like me, they've designed their assignments to be hard to plagiarize, which means they'll also be hard to get "AI" to write well. To get a good paper out of ChatGPT for my class, you'd have to write a prompt that's so long, with so many specifics, that you might as well just write the paper yourself.

ChatGPT absolutely loves to make broad, vague statements about, for example, what topics a book covers. Sadly for my students, I ask for specific examples from the book, and it's not so good at that. Nor is it good at explaining exactly why that example is connected to a concept from class. To get a good paper out of it, you'd have to have already identified the concepts you want to discuss and the relevant examples, and quite honestly if you can do that it'll be easier to write your own paper than to coax ChatGPT to write a decent paper.

The second reason you shouldn't do it?

IT WILL PUT YOUR PROFESSOR IN A REALLY FUCKING BAD MOOD. WHEN I'M IN A BAD MOOD I AM NOT GOING TO BE GENEROUS WITH MY GRADING.

I can't prove it's written by ChatGPT, but I can tell. It does not write like a college freshman. It writes like a professional copywriter churning out articles for a content farm. And much like a large language model, the more papers written by it I see, the better I get at identifying it, because it turns out there are certain phrases it really, really likes using.

Once I think you're using ChatGPT I will be extremely annoyed while I grade your paper. I will grade it as if you wrote it, but I will not grade it generously. I will not give you the benefit of the doubt if I'm not sure whether you understood a concept or not. I will not squint and try to understand how you thought two things are connected that I do not think are connected.

Moreover, I will continue to not feel generous when calculating your final grade for the class. Usually, if someone has been coming to class regularly all semester, turned things in on time, etc, then I might be willing to give them a tiny bit of help - round a 79.3% up to a B-, say. If you get a 79.3%, you will get your C+ and you'd better be thankful for it, because if you try to complain or claim you weren't using AI, I'll be letting the college's academic disciplinary committee decide what grade you should get.

Eventually my school will probably write actual guidelines for me to follow when I suspect use of AI, but for now, it's the wild west and it is in your best interest to avoid a showdown with me.

[u-vogin]

Ahem... hello, ladies and gentlemen, girls and boys, and dudes of all teenages, as well as the, uh, gals. My name is Christian Chandler; I am here, and y'all are there. [chuckles] This message is for everyone of the present and the future, beyond this date: February 24th, 2007th. My birthday. My 25th birthday. [holds up 2 fingers]

I am high-functioning autistic, and in my 25 years, I have seen and learned so much. And today, I am share--intend to share some wise words that I hope each and every one of you will take to heart and will offer yourself and everyone else a better, brighter future.

First off, remember that going to school is not a torture. It is a place of learning, a place for growing, a place where you form the spilling of your own opinions, your own feelings, and your own personality. So learn everything you are able to, and grow with it.

Now, you should also be able to try something for yourself, before forming praise or detest of it. As long as those things will not harm you, or shorten your lifetime in any way, it's totally cool.

What is totally NOT cool, though, is thinking or doing these things, which are very harmful to you, and definitely gr—will gross out those around you that don't do it, because I haven't done it and I don't like it—doing either of them. You should avoid at all costs smoking, drinking alcohol, and intaking any similar icky dangerous stuff. And smoking will eventually cause cancer, and it will—you'll be more likely to get heart attacks, viruses, and your life will be cut drastically short. They don't call cigarettes and cigars "death sticks" for nothing, other than killing you slowly. If I could, I would take every last ounce of tobacky, put 'em on a rocket, and shoot 'em up to the Moon. [Desi walks to front of the house in the background] And for, uh, alcohol, they'll cause, uh, liver dysfunction, kidney prob—kidney failures, and uh, not only that, but, when you get drunk enough, bar fights and automobile accidents. So it's a real slow-acting poison. And I haven't done either one, and look at me now, I'm, uh... [puffs out his chest as a truck passes by blasting AC/DC from the stereo] fit as a fiddle, and I'm livin' twenty-five, hopin' to live on to be about eighty to a hundred. And y'all—hopefully, y'all will get a chance to get up to that ripe old age, as well.

Now, among the better things you should definitely try before despising, is some of the hobbies of those of your own—opposite gender. Like, uh, for example, if you are a young gentleman, I recommend buying yourself a My Little Pony figure of your favorite color or whatever. Now, uh, stroking the hair of said pony is very relaxing and therapeutic, and also rubbing it against your cheek. That's... nice. And also, uh, you can pretend that, uh, the pony is, uh, that girl you want to take you wanna take out to—you wanna take out sometime, and talk to the pony like you would talk to the girl.

Now for the, uh, ladies I would recommend... a good old Autobot from Transformers. Because you can get to learn how to examine the mechanics... and variations of... each and every... I mean, of the, uh, Autobot you have... like, uh, you would tr—like you would learn how... a man... works. And it'll allow you to feel more comfortable in approaching, and talking to, that boy you've been flirtin' from a distance, or, uh, just have been, uh, flirting with from a distance. And, uh, hopefully, uh, all you have to do is just end up and say "hello". I mean, it's not so hard. All you have to do is say "hello" to the man, ladies; that's all. And everything will just get going from there. And also, uh, with the, uh, Autobot, while it's in vehicle mode you can pret—drive down that imaginary fast lane.

But any—in any case, uh, while few people may ridicule you, you should not worry about it, because most everybody will be o—totally okay with it, because it won't matter. It won't matter, because... [completely loses his place] ...they see you enjoyin' it, and it's totally cool, if you're enjoying it. So you enjoy it, just do it—don't worry about other people's opi—pinions. Because, uh, compared to the other schools, those people who disregard you are just total peanuts. And I'm not talkin' Charlie Brown; I'm talkin' 'bout the little nuts after the shells. The real peanut gallery. That would be peanuts, wouldn't it?

Also keep in mind that, while you're playin' with these things, you should keep in mind of what your true, original gender is. Because, uh, it's like you worry about that girl you want to take on a date—YOUNG MAN!—or, uh, likewise, you feel more comfortable to approach that boy—by just saying "hello"—that you've been checkin' out from a distance—YOUNG LADY!—and hopefully in due time or now, each and every one of you will stay straight. You know, girl for boy, boy for girl? Everything else is vice, as said by Doctor Kinsey. Not just for me, not for The Big Man Upstairs, not for your family, but do it for, uh, yourself, and for—and for the benefits of everyone in the future: your children, your children's children... And, besides, if you stray away from the straight path, it can really jeopardize the entire future of the world and the human race.

Also, girls and ladies, don't just go over gaga, over the handsome rich boys... and men... because they may turn out to be disrespectful and distasteful in their personality. You should take into consideration all the other gentlemen that you may have considered, that may be less attractive, or equally—less or moderately. Because those will—because they will likely have a better personality that you will—that you will generally enjoy and like, and they may end up having a brighter future for themselves. Like, look at me now—I'm shootin' this movie for a DVD... that's gon—that I hope will be shown in a couple of schools, at least.

Now, uh, also, uh... also, when you—when each and every one of you has a true general understanding of the, uh, opposite gender, and after that—finding that special MAN—LADIES!—or that special GIRL—GENTLEMEN!—always keep the... heart and memories of times that you two felt most attracted to each other, because that will be a key point to recovering from any disputes or arguments that you two might have in the future. Otherwise, so you two will just be darn happy with each other. But it's not all always gonna be peaches and cream or strawberry shortcakes. [Chris sighs] And also remember, you two should KEEP each other, because there will be nobody else—no matter how much you think about it—nobody else that can replace that special someone—him for her or... her for him—there's just nobody else...there's no substitute for that first one.

And now, I leave you with the lessons that you should have—I hope you have learned from my message. You should all—you should stay in school, learn as you much. And try before you praise and despise. Never smoke! Never drink! Never worry about how others think of you when you do things... or... when you play with things that may not s—that may not seem like you—or whatever. Don't be afraid to approach those of your opposite gender. And MOST IMPORTANTLY! PLEASE... STAY STRAIGHT. I leave you with those words, as I have shared with you on this, my twenty-fifth birthday, February 24th, 2007. I am "Christopher" Christian Weston Chandler. Live long, and shine on, in your very own unique way. War is never the answer; peace is. Never fight. Compliments will get you fuzzy-wuzzies. War gets you prickly-wicklies... as well as punches. They get you those, too. Thank you very much, and have a wonderful day.

I came home tipsy the other night from hanging out with coworkers and I cried over this video because I wanted to go back to this era of Chrischan so badly

[devils-dares]

hi!! i’m a huge fan of ur work omg.

i’ve had this idea for a bit but i lack the word skills to write it but: matt x child reader where child is autistic maybe? like how they’d bond over sensory input and output, stuff like that? just a thought idk

hi! i don't want to explicitly say this is for reader with autism, as i don't personally have it and don't want to write it in a way that doesn't represent people with it or offends them in any way. i do, however, suffer from sensory input due to my disability.

as always when writing these i try to be as inclusive as possible, if i have offended anyone in any way, please let me know.

thanks!

-----

“Busy today, hm?” Your dad says, referencing the supermarket that’s overflowing with shoppers.

“We should’ve gone earlier in the week, not on a Saturday.”

“It’s okay, we were out of cereal anyways.” He takes hold of your upper arm as the two of you walk in.

Almost immediately the sounds of the store bombard you, from the squeaky carts to the endless conversations, the beeping of the scanners, not to mention the visual input, the sea of people flowing back and forth. You grit your teeth, the buzzing of the lights making your bones hurt.

“You okay?” Matt asks, squeezing your arm.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine, why?”

“Oh, you didn’t respond, I just asked what was first on the list.”

“Bread. We need bread.”

“Lead the way.” You rush through the store, catching your dad off guard as you pull him with you.

“You’re in a rush.” His words slip past your ears as you get bombarded with new sounds, louder this time. Your hands instinctively go over your ears, pressing hard as you try to soothe yourself. Suddenly, the lights get brighter, the world starts spinning, and the crowd doesn’t stop coming.

“No no no.” You murmur, and you feel yourself getting tugged out of the store as you close your eyes.

“Hey, eyes on me, eyes on me.” You hear your dad say. You try your best to focus on him, but when you open your eyes, your surroundings look like a muddied painting, everything looking blended together. Your ears are still ringing and you’re still dizzy.

“Talk to me, what’s going on?”

“Too much, the sound I can’t- dizzy.”

“Okay, hey, let’s try to breathe, okay? We’re in a safe, quiet area. Grab my hands, let’s take a breath.” You squeeze his fingers to high hell, and you know it aches him but you need to ground yourself.

“You’re doing so good, so well. Keep taking those deep breaths, I’m so proud of you.” He stays quiet as he hears your heart fall into a normal paced rhythm, and your breathing gets back to normal.

“Good job, let’s get home, okay?”

“But the groceries-”

“I’ll come back for them, don’t worry your head about that.”

-----

“Do you want to talk about what happened?”

“I do, actually.”

“Okay, I’m here.” He passes you a hot chocolate and takes his seat next to you on the couch.

“It’s been happening more and more recently. Those- episodes. In school too, I can just hide it well most of the time, y’know? It’s just that sometimes everything gets to be too much, the smells get stronger, my eyes start darting, everything gets so much louder and it makes everything hurt.”

“I get it-”

“Dad-”

“No seriously! I do, I promise. The thing about being Daredevil, these powers that I have, it gets too much. I can’t go out in the rain, it feels like everything is pounding and throbbing around me. I need silk sheets because cotton feels like sandpaper on my skin. I can’t use most shampoos or soaps because the scents burn my nose. I get it, I do, I just wish you told me earlier so I could help you.”

“How? How does this get better?”

“I use grounding techniques, meditation, I even pack headphones to shut out the world sometimes. We could go out in short stints for exposure therapy. I want to help you, and I want you to be able to rely on me for support.”

“Okay, I can do that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, thanks Dad.”

“That’s what I’m here for, kiddo.”

[lavendermage]

A Not-so-lonely Lantern Rite

Characters: Xiao (Romantic), Childe (?), Zhongli mentioned

Genre: Hurt/comfort, GN reader

TW: Sensory Issues, isolation, reader implied to be autistic

1.2k words

AN: There will be a part 2! I'm just slow.

Update: Part 2 is done! It's a fluffy one. Here is part 2

Liyue was bustling with people, even though it was still just early afternoon. It would just get worse later on. Venders called out to potential buyers at ear splitting volumes. All the lanterns would be very pretty if you could look at them one at a time, but the number of patterns and colors flooded your brain. You kept to your pre planned route, picking up some sparklers, lanterns, and food. Everything else was already packed in your bag.

Before you could escape completely, something fell on your shoulder. You startled.

“Woah there, comrade. You’re a bit jumpy today.”

The sound of Childe’s voice calmed you, but only slightly. His hand was still on your shoulder, the place where it touched your skin itching and burning. You moved it away as subtly as possible. He still noticed. Of course he would. A look of confusion and worry flicked over his face but you missed it.

“Just a bit excited for Lantern Rite.” You flashed a smile hoping it would pass as genuine. Of course it didn’t.

“You seem off. Otherwise it wouldn’t be that easy to sneak up on you.” He laughed as if it was a joke.

“It’s nothing you need to worry about.” It took you a second to realize how harsh you sounded. You didn’t have the energy to regulate your tone at this point. “I’m sorry, I’m tired. I need to leave now, I have stuff I need to do.” And you left, leaving a concerned Childe behind.

Childe was worried. You had never acted like this in front of him before. A breath caught in his throat. Did you know? He watched you leave, noticing how bluntly you rejected anyone trying to talk to you. So it’s not me. He didn’t know whether to be relieved or more worried.

What is going on with you? Zhongli would know. He went to find him.

You continued on your way. You had staked out a good place to watch the fireworks, far enough to avoid the sound and high enough to have a good view. It was quite a hike though, and you wanted to get there early to set up.

Thoughts ran in your head and you tried your best to ignore them. The increasing difficulty of the terrain managed to scare them away eventually. You could only focus on one thing at a time, and for the moment that one thing was not falling to your death.

By the time you had reached the spire, the sun was starting to set. You pulled some blankets out, folding one under you to protect against the chill of the stone. The rest were set aside for when it got colder. All that was left was to wait.

Those thoughts had come back though. You wonder what the others were doing. Zhongli was probably drinking tea while watching a pre-firework performance. Childe had told you about a party he was going to. You had made sure Qiqi was given time off and had gotten her a lantern. And you were here alone. You had no right to be moping. You had told them not to worry about you, to have fun, but still… Maybe Xiao would want to…

You laugh at your silly thought. Xiao was probably enjoying his time alone.

You felt an ache in your chest. No matter how much you wanted to, you knew you couldn’t stay down there. It would be too much and you’d have a meltdown. Still you felt so.. lonely. You fought the urge to cry. Screw it. No one would see anyway. You wrapped a blanket around you tight enough to feel a slight pressure and tucked your head in your arms. You cried. It felt so much like those parties you had to leave when you were little.

The wind pulled a few strands of your hair and a presence appeared behind you.

“Oh, Xiao.” You lifted your head but didn’t turn towards him.

“Why are you here?” He was as blunt as ever. He tried to walk around to look at your face but you turned away.

“It’s quieter up here.” It’s such an understatement it feels like a lie. “I like the fresh air.” You tacked on hoping to make it more believable.

“You don’t have to lie for me.” He sat down next to you.

You looked at him surprised. “I thought you’d prefer to be alone somewhere.”

His heart broke when he saw your tear stained eyes. “And I expected you to be with everyone else.”

You winced, even though you knew he didn’t mean it in a mean way. “I would like to, but I can’t. It’s too loud. Makes me panic.”

He waited a moment after you’d finished, thinking. “What did you do last year?”

“I tried to stay, see the fireworks with everyone. Thought I could handle it.” You pause and laugh dryly. “I couldn’t. My brain shut down and Zhongli had to evacuate me.”

The two of you sat there in silence for a bit. He put his arm over your back, surprising you. Just as quickly he pulled it back. “Sorry.”

You guided his hand over your shoulder. “It’s alright. Just didn’t expect it. So, can you stay?”

“There hasn’t been any demonic activity today.”

You nodded. “I have some food, do you want some?”

“I don’t need to eat. You know this.”

“Do you want to though?” You lean over to pull something out of your bag. “I brought almond tofu!”

“I didn’t know you liked it too.”

“This is actually the first time I’ll be eating it. I was wondering why you liked it so much, so I wanted to try it.” You smiled. “We can share it!”

He looked away from your face to hide his blushing cheeks. You didn’t notice as you took a bite of the tofu.

You tapped your feet happily. “It’s good. You take a bite.”

He turned to you, as you stuck a piece towards his face. His eyes widened in surprise.

“Eat it fast! It’s slipping!” The panic in your voice pushed him to take it. He chewed it slowly.

“Is it good?” You ask, giving him a questioning thumbs up.

He copied you then swallowed it quickly. “The texture’s nice.”

“Yay!” You grinned. You pulled out all the food containers and opened them. “Take whatever you want.” You were so much more animated than before. You pulled out a timepiece. “The fireworks will start soon.”

And they did. Fireworks bloomed into flowers, hearts, and stars. Some of them split off into multiple smaller explosions, and others continued to sparkle like tinsel as they fell back to earth. Last time you watched them you didn’t have the chance to admire them, but now you could. You turned to Xiao to see his expression, only to find him staring at you.

“Is there something on my face?” You joked, laughing.

“No. It’s just – never mind.” He turned away. He was grateful for the darkness that hid his red face.

You looked back at the fireworks. “Thank you, Xiao. For being here with me. It…it means alot.”

He wanted to say a lot. He wanted to say that he was always there for you, that you need only call his name. He said nothing though, electing to just sit by you. Your company was calming, comforting. He glanced at you often, the lights and colors of the fireworks reflecting on your face beautifully.

[thescarletwitchsapprentice]

A Pure Soul: Nearly Taken (Yandere!Wanda Maximoff x ADD!autistic!reader)

*Not my GIF.

Summary: The day (y/n) comes back to the compound after being told all those nasty things takes a toll on their mental health and self-esteem. Unfortunately it gets to a point that Wanda hoped it would NEVER reach.

Request?: Still none.

Word Count: 3,456

Warnings: Ableism, eugenics mention, r-word slur, attempted suicide, attempted overdose, hurt and comfort.

Notes: This is a sort of “in-between scene” from “A Pure Soul.” The rate of suicide is 3 times higher in autistic people because of the world’s lack of understanding and willingness to accommodate us. Plus being told the world would be better off without you, along with people looking for ways to make sure we’re not born....that’s gonna take a toll. So it makes sense for these feelings to emerge.

=============================================

You know that the world isn’t very kind to the disabled.

You know that the world wishes people like you wouldn’t exist.

But that doesn’t make what happened hurt any less.

You were out shopping when you ran into your best friend from high school. Except....this friend wasn’t the same as you knew them. No, instead they showed you their true colors.

“Oh hey, (y/n),” they said.

Tone has never been your specialty.

“Hey!” you exclaimed happily as you were looking through the books at your local bookstore. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you! How are you?”

“Better. How’s the treatment coming along?”

This confused you.

“Treatment?”

They nodded.

“For that disease you call autism.”

This struck a chord, and it struck HARD. How could they say something like that?!

“D-disease?!”

They smirked.

“I mean, it just makes us humans lives harder to be around your kind.”

What?!

“What the hell’s gotten into you?!” you exclaimed. “I thought you were my best friend!”

“Oh?”

They pretended to wrack their brain.

“Oh! Yeah, I was such a great actor in that part. I should get an Oscar. Here’s the tea; I lost a bet and had to be your best friend for those four hellish years. I can’t believe they wanted me to suffer that much.”

Your heart began to crack. It was all....an act?

“You took my high school years away from me, made me miserable. I could’ve won prom royalty, but no one voted for me because I associated myself with your species. I’m glad you’re out of my life now. You’re nothing but a burden and the world would be so much better off without you. Why not do us that favor?”

Your heart shattered. You were so plagued with shock that you didn’t notice them push you to the ground and spit on you before walking away with a satisfied chuckle. For the next few minutes, you couldn’t say or do anything. You were just frozen to the spot, their words bouncing around your head.

Finally you were able to feel both the physical and emotional pain. Pursing your lips, you got up, kept your head down, and quickly left the bookstore, trying not to let the tears fall.

===============================================

In the elevator, heading up to your floor, you can barely form a new thought. All you can think of is that hurtful interaction. 

Burden, your kind, your species, disease....

It all hurt. 

And the worst part is that you can’t help but think that they’re right.

But your thoughts are jolted by the elevator bell. As usual you find the Avengers hanging out in the lounge. Nat and Clint are chatting with Wanda. Tony and Peter are working on homework. You can barely see what the others are doing. 

Almost instantly, Wanda’s eye falls on you. She has a smile on her face, but it falls when she sees you, as she instantly knows that something is wrong. 

“(Y/N)!” she whispers worried.

She rushes over and gives you a gentle hug, but you practically squeeze the life out of her. The other Avengers also come to your aid. 

“What happened?” Wanda asks you.

You gulp as she and Nat lead you to the couch.

“I....” you begin as you sit down. “I was out shopping....and I ran into my best friend from high school....”

You tell them the entire interaction. Shocked looks are nearly all around by the end.

“That’s seriously messed up,” Nat says in a mix of disgust and anger.

The others nod in agreement, except for Wanda. Instead she begins to tear up. 

“My sweet angel,” she weeps softly as she hugs you closer and pets your head. “Oh, my sweet, sweet angel. None of what they said is true, not one bit of it. You’re an absolute joy to have around and you’re one of the kindest souls I’ve ever met. You bring so much to the Avengers and to our lives. Autism is not a disease. It’s a part of who you are, and I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

“Wanda’s right,” Peter nods. “You’re wonderful, (y/n). You’re one of the best friends I could ever ask for.”

“And you bring a lot of new perspectives,” Nat adds. “You came into our lives when we needed you the most, especially Wanda.”

They all take turns giving you words of comfort and encouragement as well as letting you cry. Wanda stays the closest to you, to no one’s surprise, hugging you tightly. Her embrace is exactly what you need right now; so warm and loving. 

Tony, though not the most emotional person, does feel sympathetic and even angered at the person who said that to you; even though you’re on the opposite side of the Accords, he decides to get your favorite food for dinner. It’s not the greatest gesture of sympathy, but it’s definitely something. After that, you take a nice, warm shower and get into some fresh, soft pajamas. Wanda’s waiting for you in your bedroom, and surprises you with some soft socks that match your pajamas.

“I removed the fabric tags too,” she tells you.

Your heart melts a bit more for her. How someone as kind, attentive, and loving as her could ever be considered a terrible person is beyond you. You let her put them on your feet and they feel amazing. You wriggle your toes in them, smiling. 

“You like them?” she asks you.

“I love them,” you giggle before turning to Wanda. “And I love you.”

She smiles and gives you a kiss on the forehead.

“I love you too, my angel.”

The two of you spend the rest of the night together, cuddling up close with one another, watching sitcoms, singing quietly. You doze off in her arms.....

But that doesn’t mean it’s over.....

==============================================

You’re not someone who easily forgets how things make you feel, and what that person said still makes you feel like shit. Now whenever you go out, you’re worried that you’re going to run into them. You keep your guard up and walk as quickly as you can. Every outing feels like a fight for survival, but you try to stay strong so that you don’t bother the others. You try to keep a smile on your face. You need to be strong.....

.....But even the strong reach their limits.

It’s a little after you found out they became catatonic. You’re at a coffee shop, nearly empty, when someone else walks in. It’s a friend of that person. You keep your head low as they place their order; four cups of black coffee, extra hot. Your anxiety is increasing, but you don’t want this person to think you’re weak. You keep your back to them, hearing the door open again. 

The other person is called for their order. Maybe you can finally get out of here.

The next thing you know, you feel something steaming hot being poured down the back of your shirt, on your head, thrown in your face, (which you luckily cover most of with your arms) and splattered on your arms and legs. Standing up, you cry out in pain as you whirl around to see 4 people from high school, among them the friend of your former best friend.

“It’s your fault my best friend can’t function, you retard!” the friend snaps as they push you around roughly.

“No one wants you on this planet,” spits another.

“You’re nothing but a parasite!”

“You just weigh people down!”

“You’re an embarrassment to society!”

“Why don’t you just end this?”

“It’ll be better that way!”

“Your birth was a mistake!”

By this time, you’re hardly a thread’s width away from a meltdown and you look at the cashier for help, but nothing. You try to take out your phone to call for help, but you end up slipping on the coffee, falling to the ground hard and in an odd position, hearing a crack. Pain surges through your body as you look at your arms; burn marks are beginning to form.

After they kick at you for a bit and spit on you, they leave. You look up at the cashier. 

“Why....didn’t you help?” you whimper with a whistle in your voice.

No answer. 

They don’t help you up either. Crawling to the door, you use a nearby booth to bring yourself back up to your feet. Suddenly you feel an intense surge of pain in your left leg, and not just from the burns. You look to see that it’s swollen and turning reddish-purple. You reach into your coat and get out your phone only to discover that it’s dead. Wanda’s going to be worried sick....you hate making her worry, and she’s been worried sick these last few weeks to the point where it’s taking a toll on her; so on the way back, you decide to take one worry out of her life for good.

======================

It’s dark when you get back to the compound. And lucky for you, the elevator is closed for repairs. You limp up the stairs, finally reaching the compound. As quiet as a dust mite, you open the door, biting down on your lips to keep yourself from crying out in pain; unfortunately, your lips took some burn damage as well. Limping to the bathroom, you shut and lock the door. You search the medicine cabinet and find some pills.

“This should do the trick,” you whisper.

You try to quietly position yourself on the floor so that you won’t hit your head. You want to be able to pass as peacefully as possible. But something gives in your left leg and you fall, letting out a loud cry of agony. Realizing your mistake, you quickly fiddle with the lid of the bottle as you hear footsteps rush in. You finally get the lid open and begin to pour out the whole bottle into your hand, hoping to get it in in time--

Click!

The lock turns scarlet, clicks, and the door swings opens. 

“(Y/N)!”

A terrified Wanda immediately snatches the pills and bottle from you with her powers. She makes them disappear before heading to your side, tears already flowing from her eyes.

“My sweet angel.....” she squeaks as she kneels in front of you gently taking ahold of your hands. “I didn’t realize you were feeling this terrible. I’m so sorry things have reached this point.”

You look away guiltily. 

“No, I’m sorry....it’s my fault. I never said....anything. You....you’ve been so stressed these past few weeks....all of you. I didn’t want to make it worse on you, so....I just kept quiet.”

Wanda shakes her head.

“You have nothing to apologize for, (y/n). It can be scary, but there’s no shame in reaching out. We all need help sometimes.”

Other footsteps rush in.

“What happened?” Nat asks. “Did (y/n)---?”

“Almost,” Wanda gulps. “We need to get them to the emergency room.”

“I’m fine,” you lie.

“Are you fine?” Wanda asks.

You realize that it’s pointless to lie, and you shake your head.

“No, I’m not....”

“Then we need to take you to the emergency room.....”

That’s when she sees the burns and leg.

“Especially to treat these.....what happened?”

As they carry you to the car, you tell them about the run-in at the coffee shop, them pouring the hot coffee on you, how they were telling you all of these things, how the cashier did nothing to help, how you heard that crack. Both of them are disgusted and horrified at those monsters.

“I don’t care what they say,” Nat tells you as they get you inside. “I’m glad that you’re here.”

“I am too,” Wanda agrees as she gets in the front seat. “We’re here for you.”

“But.....my autism.....”

Wanda gently takes ahold of your fingers, careful to avoid the burns.

“My angel.....I can only imagine how isolating it feels to be in a world that’s not made for you, but your autism is part of who you are. It’s what makes you unique. If the world refuses to accommodate for people like you on their own, we’ll help them to see that they need to, and we’ll help advocate with you.”

Nat nods as she starts the car up and the three of you head for the ER.

“I....I feel selfish worrying you like this and even attempting....I just thought....you’ve been so stressed and I thought it’d be better to take one worry out of your life.”

“You have nothing to feel selfish about,” Wanda assures you. “What you did wasn’t selfish. You’re in pain, and wanting to do something to stop that pain isn’t selfish. But there are better ways to deal with the pain, and I want to help you with those. (Y/N), I can say with 100% certainty that I’m glad to have you in my life, through the good and the bad.”

Tears flow down your face as the three of you silently drive to the ER.

=============================================

It takes several hours for you to be treated, along with a few more hours of consultation for your mental health. Some of the burns are treated through surgery, so you have to stay for a little over a week to make sure you recover and stabilize. Your leg is put in a cast, and Wanda comes to visit you everyday. You feel much better with her and Nat.

A psychologist comes in to discuss a safety plan with you. You decided to ask Wanda if she’d come and discuss it with them. She said yes and Nat also decided to help. You all work out what works in terms of coping mechanisms, people you can talk to, calming techniques, etc,. The psychologist also recommends regular counseling. Wanda asks if there are any remote options for counseling, as it’s going to be difficult for you to get there with your leg, (Also, she’s a little worried that the therapist might try to take you away from her, but she does show concern for your leg) and to her relief, there is. 

You’re discharged after about a week, but you’re not to be left alone for a few days to another week or two, just to be sure. Well, it’s more of Wanda’s recommendation than psychologist’s orders, but the psychologist also thinks that that could be a good idea. You’re not really complaining; it’s more time to spend with Wanda. And she’s certainly not complaining either.

For that time, especially, she makes sure you know that you’re loved, wanted, valued. She practically dotes on you; as if she hadn’t been doting on you before, she’s especially pampering you now. The other Avengers also get the 411, and decide to help. If you need pain or sleep medications, one of them brings the proper dose to you. They take turns spending time with you and getting to know you more. If they need to go out on a mission, Wanda volunteers to stay with you, but if she’s absolutely needed there, she entrusts your care to Vision, a robot who’s exceptionally caring. You and Wanda regularly discuss possibly adding him to the relationship, but you’re not sure if she’s being serious or not. 

On one night, Wanda’s caring for you. After applying the prescribed cream on your burns, she helps you find an oversized t-shirt to wear as PJs. 

“This one’s softer than the others,” you note.

“I went looking for a shirt with a softer material than normal,” she tells you as she prepares a small dose of melatonin for you, one that you’ve been taking to combat the nightmares of those events in the hospital. “I know how much it tends to make you feel discomforted if there is one. I also made sure it was a tagless shirt.”

You smile and sigh.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve an angel like you, Wanda,” you tell her.

Hearing this she smiles and blushes.

“If anyone’s the angel, it’s you,” she says as she gives you the melatonin. “You’ve been there for me even when I’m at my absolute worst.”

“So have you.”

You take the melatonin before Wanda brings you your toothbrush and toothpaste. You brush thoroughly before spitting it into a cup that Wanda disposes of. 

“You know, I could go to the bathroom and do this myself,” you tell her kindly.

“I know,” she sighs. “I’m just worried, my angel.”

“What if I wash my face tonight with the door open?” you suggest.

Wanda gives this a little thought and nods. 

“I can work with that.”

Using your crutches, you walk to the bathroom where you sit on a stool in front of the sink. You wash and dry your face before heading to the bed with Wanda helping you get tucked in.

“You’re seriously an angel,” you tell her. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone outside of my family that’s been as concerned about my well-being as you.”

“And you’re too sweet,” she smiles again as she finishes getting ready for bed herself. “If anyone’s the undeserving, I don’t deserve you.”

“No, it’s the other way around,” you say.

“No, I’m certain I’m right.”

You giggle.

“Wanda, if we try to prove one right over the other, we’ll be going at this all night.”

She smiles as she goes over to the other side of the bed. 

“Well, I know you’re an angel,” she tells you as she gets under the covers. “You came to me in a dark time, and you shone a beam of sunlight through the shadow.”

The two of you look at each other as the fairy lights hang above you. Of course you’re looking at the bridge of her nose, but you can’t help but glance up at her eyes a few times; one time they catch you, and they are stunning. They’re like emeralds to you; vivid, entrancing, mystical. Just a single glance, and you know there’s so much to know about, so much to discover, and you become lost in them. 

“I’m so proud of you, (y/n).”

Wanda’s gentle voice echoes against your eardrums and dances around your mind, soothing you into drifting even more. But then she boops you on the nose, making it twitch like a bunny’s and snapping you out of your trance.

“Huh?” you ask, looking lost.

Wanda giggles.

“You are too cute,” she tells you. “I was saying that I’m so proud of you for pushing through all of this. It’s not the easiest thing to do, and.....well.....I’m glad you’re still alive, my sweet little sunbeam.”

You blush upon hearing this and turn away, but Wanda gently redirects your face forward.

“There’s no need to hide, my angel. I want to see your lovely face.”

At that moment, you begin to feel drowsy and bring yourself closer to her.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you enough, Wanda,” you sigh.

She brings you in closer and you melt into her embrace.

“Being with you, and you being safe and happy and alive.....that’s the only thank you I need.”

Leaning in, she kisses you gently on your forehead and you shyly return one on her cheek. 

“Goodnight, my angel,” she tells you as she brushes a strand of hair out of your way.

“Wait,” you say as she turns to switch the lights off. “Will....will you sing me those lullabies again? Please?”

“Of course,” she smiles. 

Turning the lights off, she returns to embrace you and softly sings the Sokovian lullabies her parents used to sing to her. As you drift off to sleep, you don’t know what’s going on in her mind. What’s going on with her mind? Her master plan, of course. Tonight’s the night she will finish what she started. Those monsters at the coffee shop messed with the wrong person. For the past few nights, she’s been paying them visits, doing the same things she did with your former best friend, and sending subconscious suggestions for them to gather in one place, thinking they’d be safer together. And now they have.

Tonight she’s going to make sure their minds are gone for good, but not before making them feel the pain and agony she imagines you felt. Her anger with them is in full throttle, so it’s going to be even worse for them. Telekinesis, fear projection, hypnosis, inducing extreme fear, she’ll do whatever she has to. Wanda will not leave until they’re nothing more than hollow husks, shadows of their former selves. With how they’d been acting on those nights, and how much Wanda has done so far, it won’t take too long. 

Because no one-and she means no one-gets away with hurting her precious angel.......ever.