#neurodivergence seeks to turn the other way

[kittenwriter]

Cure narratives: when fiction depicts a disability being cured. Because no one on the internet has nuance, it wound up getting overwhelmingly presented as "you should never depict curing disabilities because that's ableist." This rested on the fact that for neurodivergence-type disabilities, "curing" the disability means fundamentally changing the person; you're born neurodivergent and it's an integral part of who you are. (And also this slides really, really easily into eugenics.)

But disability is a broad umbrella! Even with the social model of disability (and if you want a beautiful fictional examination of the social model, look up The Fledging of Az Gabrielson; the author thought through every detail of what it would mean to not have wings in a world where everyone has wings), chronic pain is disabling no matter how well society accommodates it. The vast majority of people with chronic pain would like to not have chronic pain.

There are also some things that exist on a spectrum. I'm not qualified to give an expansive discourse on Deaf culture, but there is a schism between the people who are culturally Deaf and see that as worth preserving and the oralists who lean into cochlear implants and seeking to eliminate it. (For that matter, while it's highly taboo to talk about it and I don't think it's common, neurodivergent people who want a cure do exist. I'm not going to get into all the complications and controversies of John Elder Robison because that's an essay in itself, but look at his book Switched On for something adjacent to that perspective.)

So you wind up with a lengthy set of discussions about what is and isn't acceptable to depict-- and it's a lot like every other diversity discussion in that market-level generalizations wind up getting held against individual authors. It's a problem if every depiction of disability shows cures (and then you get the related things like the "not really blind" trope where you have characters who are supposedly blind but magic or technology allows them to function as though they weren't with no problems)-- but that got turned into (because no one on the internet has nuance) "you should never depict cures and if you do you're ableist," which in turn sparked backlash from the people for whom the cure narrative is wish fulfillment. (I have myself joked about being a Bad Disabled because my own desires as regards cure do not align with the "You must be proud of your ENTIRE DISABILITY" narrative.)

There's also the fact that even among the wish-fulfillment people, sometimes you want to read about someone who is suffering what you're suffering the way you're suffering it without it being magically cured at the end! Or what's desired is fantasy assistance devices that function like actual assistance devices in that they have drawbacks and trade-offs and assist without making the character functionally not disabled.

So I feel like the people in anon's fandoms probably got into the "it is ableist to depict cures" thing with the same level of nuance typical of People On The Internet (which is to say, none) and then mangled it even farther. There's probably also some influence here from a related conversation, that of using fantasy substitutes instead of giving your character real-life actual disabilities, but again, that's a spectrum and depends a lot on how well you do it, and I see it happening more frequently with people wanting to write Stereotype Neurodivergence without considering whether it has any resemblance to actual neurodivergence than I see it with physical disabilities. (See also Sheldon Cooper.)

So now that we've gotten to the end of my essay (this is probably a bit more than you thought you were getting when you asked the question), further reading if you're still so inclined:

"The Trope of Curing Disability" at Disability in Kid Lit

"Disability Tropes 101: The Magical Cure" at Dis(abled) Embodiment

Brilliant Imperfection by Eli Clare

The Disability Visibility Project

"The Complexities of Curing Disabilities" by Emily Ladeau

And finally, a bunch of people having a conversation on Reddit.

(And now we have proved once again that you can take the girl out of the library but you can't take the librarian out of the girl.)

Tagging question! In canon, a character has a magic-induced health problem. Basically, every so often, he has days moving his back in any way causes staggering amounts of pain and he has severe fatigue. He can't get upright under his own power during severe episodes. Painkillers do not work. The frequency of episodes starts off once every few months but by this point in canon has become a once or twice a week problem. It can hit right out of nowhere even if he was fine all day today or he can wake up with it.

Fandom wank being what it is, people keep insisting to me that this is not a disability. I tagged the fic with Disabled Character because since he's the main character of the fic and this... look, I'm not disabled? I could be wrong. But to me this feels like a disability. If I met someone with this IRL with a non-magical cause I would go, "I 100% believe this qualifies as a disability" without question. But oh, wow. The fandom does NOT agree with me on this. I've gotten several annoyed remarks by people informing me that this is belittling the pain actual disabled people have because disabilities, unlike curses, can't be lifted. And I can see that there's a difference. Thing is, he can't canonically afford to pay to have the curse lifted. He's stuck with it.

Because every single person in this conversation is abled, though, I feel like they're not who I should be listening to. OTNF, I know your readership includes disabled people. Do you/they have any suggestions? Does he qualify as disabled, or am I too attached to my headcanon-y idea of him as being a metaphor for disability?

--

I don't think that's a metaphor. I think that's a canonically (magically) disabled character.

What say you, readers?

[giddygreengalaxy]

I dont think I'm disabled, I think the world just can't tame me.

Wasn't Jesus the same?

[gladiatorcunt]

- # GIVE A FLY SOME HONEY !!

all roads lead to death valley

cw: southern setting & accents, sui ideation/thoughts, protected sex (are you proud of me), dead dove ending and undertones, sort of ambiguous, virgin cowboy!anakin x virgin afab!reader, ROTS coded!anakin, r2’s a horse, the force is in place of the christian God and is referred to as such at times, star wars being a fictional franchise in a star wars au fic, weird mix of a farm and a ranch, spanking, clit slapping, biting, reader’s inner freak has some crazy thoughts, mentions of humiliation and collaring/choking, anakin murders somebody (one scene of violence), what a heat advisory and the south’s sex education does to a mf, implied plus size and neurodivergent!reader, kidnapping????????????, mention of drugs, reader has a lot of internalized shame about where they’re from

wc: 4.2k (unedited)

what if instead of star wars it was called 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 wars

consider commissioning me!

Your unlucky streak rears its ugly head yet again. June was already shaping up to be a hot month, and your junkyard car wouldn’t start. You’re used to driving long stretches of road with nothing but livestock in fields to gawk at, it comes with the territory. But you couldn’t afford gas and decided to push your luck on the way back home, nevermind that the drive would be at least 20 hours. Moving to the city had its drawbacks, the road trip to and back being one of them.

“No, no. Come on, please work. Do you need me to fucking sing to you or something?” You groan, fruitlessly twisting your key in the ignition over and over.

Nope, “Tough shit.” Your engine mocks, death coughs sputtering out one after the other.

“ ‘You havin’ trouble?” A masculine voice shouts from behind you.

You get startled by the sound and gracefully slam your head up into the roof of the car as you turn around. You must look like quite the sight, clutching your now throbbing head and stumbling out of your broken down hand-me-down car on a long open road. Once you’ve blinked enough to adjust to the harsh sunlight, your eyes land on a tall muscular figure riding a horse. The clip clop of the horse’s dirty hooves on the gravel pierce your ears but the gentle sway of the man’s fluffy hair softens the blow.

“Um…. yes, sir. I am actually. My…. my car won’t start and I’m all out of gas.” You burn with embarrassment as you get through your explanation, trying your hardest not to throw up from the sheer social anxiety.

“Well that ain’t no biggy, I think I can help with that.” The man cocks his head and hops down from the horse, a white stallion with a few faded black-gray spots here and there. “Stay here, R2.”

You’re standing there dumbly, ignoring the tiny rocks digging into your shoes and the pounding in your skull as the cowboy wanders up to you. The sun bounces off his dark hat in a way that gives him a sort of halo, and you gape like a fish when he tips it down at you in a silent greeting, reaching out to shake your hand after. The silver spurs on his boots reflect sunlight directly onto your face, so you miss his open palm the first time.

His hand is rough, you can feel numerous old scrapes and cuts when you accept the gesture. But it’s so much bigger than yours, and there’s strange heat coming from his skin that you’re hesitant to pin on the southern summer sun. Too handsome, in a way that just can’t be possible, you quickly swipe a fingertip over his ring finger during the handshake and The Force must be looking out for you because there’s no ring. Not that you’re seeking anything out, but in the town you’re from, you’re lucky if anyone makes it past 18 without having a baby and getting hitched as a result.

Anakin tinkers away at your car for over an hour, finding more problems than just a lack of gas. Eventually he determines that you’ll die in this heat before you can back on the road, so he asks you to accompany him back to his ranch and he’ll send out one of his employees to bring your car around. You try to show him that you’re listening by ‘hm’-ing and nodding every so often, but it’s hard to rip your eyes away from a very attractive man bent over and sweaty while he’s fixing your car. You definitely do not want to cry when his flannel lifts up as he wipes the sweat on his forehead away with his greasy hand, revealing the slight softness over his muscles.

Since your car was no longer an option, Anakin grins as he gestures towards his horse, “R2’s a good horse, won’t give you any trouble. He likes to make a lot of noise and has an… acquired sense of humor, but I reckon we’ll get back just fine.”

He has you practice getting off and on the horse for a good while, the next step is letting you adjust to the feeling of being on one. You’d be embarrassed that Anakin’s having to teach you how to ride but his hands curl around your waist, keeping you steady and whispering in your ear to not be so stiff. Horses can smell fear after all, it’d suck to not only have your car be broken but your bones too. It’s a scene straight out of a cheesy romance novel, the kind that’s a tiny yellowed book sold almost exclusively in run down gas stations with a cover not far off from a porno.

Your cheeks are burning the entire way to the ranch, you relax as much as you can on an animal that’s a few hundred pounds of muscle with a searing hot body pressed right up against you from behind. It doesn't take long to get to your destination though, and before you know it sprawling fields bracket a mid size homey wooden building. There are some smaller pens for the cows to stay in and you follow their movement as an employee unlatches the gate and leads them out towards the left most field.

“They gotta switch pastures every so often.” He informs you, urging his horse into an energetic trot, “And it’s a good rule of thumb to have about an acre per cow.”

You tighten your hold on the reins and try not to focus on your fear of falling off. The pace of R2 isn’t one that you struggle to match but then again this is the first time you’ve ever ridden a horse in a long time. You’ve always been too skittish to do it regularly, and when you moved you got rid of the hobby entirely. You take a deep breath and let the horse’s movements travel through you, coming to enjoy the gentle jostling as you go. Anakin keeps his hands around yours on the reigns, making sure you don’t panic and seize up. R2’s not really beginner friendly unless he likes his rider, he has a tendency to just whinny and take off when the spirit moves him.

“The Force has done me good and given me a nice house on nice land, but it don’t mean nothin’ if i’m all by my lonesome. Ever since my dad passed and my ma’ died a few years after that, the workers and the cows are all I got, plus R2 of course.”

All right, he sinks into the jargon a little too much, but the way the sun accentuates the scar on his cheek makes it a charming quirk. You want to lick his teeth when he smiles, you think, before blaming it on an oncoming heatstroke. You’re no better than a man in this moment, and if you had seen him soaking up all of the attention in a crowded room in a bar you’d have no business being in, you like to think that you could pull him. You play with the slightly waxy feel of the leather reins, allowing the sensation of coarseness in the stitching to overpower any coherent thought.

“Why’d you name your horse R2?” You ask, ducking your head as you feel him guide the animal towards the stables.

“Oh uh, I was real wild over these sci fi movies from back when I was a kid. The hero had this robot called R2-D2, and I guess it just stuck with me.” He answers you with a shrug and a mild blush, curving his fingers around yours.

Your stomach warms at the feeling, but you refrain from returning the gesture, he probably isn’t even thinking that deeply about what he’s doing. He’s not obsessing over every square inch of skin that comes into contact with his own, not like you. You’re already missing the comforting weight of Anakin’s herculean body when he’s pulling the reins to stop R2 and hopping off, clamping his big hands around your waist and helping you down. You wobble for a bit and find your footing before you can pick up on how he momentarily froze in front of you, anticipating an easy opportunity to touch you again. Force, you really are stupid, bless your heart.

You glance up at him and start to say something but then you hear rustling in the bushes, Anakin must hear it too because before you can tug on his sleeve and tell him, he’s pulling his revolver out from its holster and striding off towards the sound. You’re quick to learn that he has a bit of a one track mind, especially when it comes to indulging the serpent twisting in between his ribs like a switchblade.

“I’ll be damned…”

You’re supposed to head inside and awkwardly linger around until your car is in good enough condition to get you back to Coruscant. The only thing is, you’ve now found yourself without your new security blanket, and your curiosity agrees with how much you don’t fucking want to speak to any of the people here without Anakin to hide behind. R2 loudly chuffs at you from his stall in the stables, either saying “That’s just how he is, leave him be!” or "What are you doing? You should obviously go after him!” You choose to believe it’s the latter, so you wander off into the distance, following Anakin’s lead.

You catch up to him quicker than you thought you would, and you have half a mind to scold him like a child if you weren’t catching your breath. All you can see is his wide shoulders because he’s hunched over something, your heartbeat quickens when you spot his gun being pointed at something. You circle around him to find a man squirming on the ground like a toddler, twitching every so often. Anakin seems almost enthralled by the desperate display, so he doesn’t notice you until you gingerly place a hand on his shoulder, soft and looking to soothe. Later you won’t remember the blood on the man’s temple or the matching stain on the muzzle of Anakin’s gun, because you didn’t witness that part.

He snaps out of it, turning his head to nuzzle his nose against your knuckles, “ ‘s alright, sweetheart, just a meth head too out of his mind to watch where he’s goin’. Had a knife with him, probably lookin’ to rob somebody blind.”

Your eyes flicker between him and the man, fully aware of how common stuff like drug addicts trespassing is and the old fashioned black and red ‘Trespassers Will Be Shot On Sight’ sign. You’ve grown up around guns, you’re more used to hearing them in a hunting or taking shots at beer bottles kind of way, but it’s not like Anakin’s the only one to have that kind of self enforced rule when it comes to his property. Still… killing a human man is different than making use out of a successful deer hunt, right?

“Maybe we should call the cops, he can’t hurt nobody like that…” You try to reason, casting a pitiful glance towards the cowering man.

There’s a scratch on Anakin’s face that’s still bleeding from the knife the guy had used before Anakin took it, it just barely missed his right eye, he could’ve lost it. You’ll ask to help him with it when you get back to the ranch, but you know that there’s no seeing to it right now. You don’t want to risk an infection just so you could brush your thumb across the wound, you’re not even sure why you want to, it’s like the urge just materialized in your head out of thin fog. Anakin gently shrugs your hand off and uses his free one to pull you against his chest, and it’s like you’re back on his horse, that same fear entwined with exhilaration like barbed wire. Your hearts are beating at the same pace, some folks say that’s how you know it’s love, that’s how you know it’s fate.

“You don’t got the stuff in ya to be a killer, that’s just fine, darlin’. ‘Cause I sure do.” His words dissolve into a previously unknown to you cold sneer.

Anakin clamps a burly, sweaty hand over your eyes as he empties the entire magnum into the tresspasser’s skull. The bright sun bounces off the brim of his hat, casting a shadow over his stormy eyes. He may not have let you witness the massacre, but you will never forget the sickening yelps the poor bastard gave to Anakin like prayer. And then he got put down in a more inhumane fashion than if he were a rabid dog. To your gracious host, there’s probably not a whole lick of difference. Between a wanderin’ sap and a deranged mutt, that is.

But there’s a far off expression on his face, maybe he was once at risk of having two bullets in his temple at the hands of someone unforgiving.

“Welp.” Anakin exclaims, making a point of slapping his thigh as he holsters his pistol. “Better head on home now, I reckon. Come on, honey, don’t want to lose you to the coyotes.”

It’s said like “kai-yohtes.” You balk at his teasing and obediently trail after him, a vulnerable duckling staying in line. The storm is hitting hard by the time you’re out of the woods, and you briefly wonder if the Angels up in heaven are gonna start bowling soon. A saying that got passed around in your family, when you and the ones before you would stare up in wonder and shiver in fear at the thundering purple skies as kids. You remember being surprised that one of the Angels’ bowling balls never fell down to earth, maybe it’d be somethin’ like a meteorite.

As is the case with many things, it’s easy to lose sight of the fresh corpse in the dry grass. Once you turn around and thread your finger through Anakin’s, dirtying them, it’s almost like that man never existed. There must be something wrong with you, sure the situation is so unimaginable that it would be hard to cope with, but shouldn’t you be feeling more guilt than you do? You feel bad, of course, but ‘easy come and easy go’ has always been the way of things in these parts. God giveth and God taketh away.

You’re back where you should be, a narrow dirt path going under a wooden fence to the ranch. Grand trees line the road forming a moss green canopy. A few workers are goofing off and playing a very amateur game of football, blissfully ignorant to the fact that Anakin can obviously see them from his place next to you.

It would be a peaceful place to die, a bright and clear afternoon-evening in the way that the world can only be when you’re about to leave it. That’s how you’d want it to feel, like you’re rowing a boat across the lake you used to go fishing at to see people you’d never thought you’d see again waiting for you. Fall leaves, blinding pale sun, a serene and calming quiet. You’d be the happiest you’ve ever been, skipping even though you never could as a kid. There’d be no sadness, only relief and a memento of everything that’ll only make sense when it’s someone’s turn to see you again. No buzzing from mosquitoes or chirping from crickets, only little lightnin’ bugs. Maybe you only get that kinda ending if you’re good, in the godly sense, if you come from something worth remembering.

Anakin raises an eyebrow and gently jostles you, and just like that your train of thought is derailed. He chalks it up to shock, and nods his head towards a clearing behind the building. A change of plans. You follow, as you are wont to do.

“That rat bastard had it comin’ to ‘im, hun.” He tries to reassure and squeezes your hand, imploring you to see reason. “The Force decided it was his time, sweet thing.”

You shake your head, not disagreeing, just in utter disbelief. “I just… most everyone in my life I've known that’s died did it when I wasn't there. I’ve never had to actually be there when they… you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” And that’s all he says, regardless of the truth.

It’s what you need, somehow he just understands exactly what that is. You’re starting to think that you certainly don’t have a damn clue. You look up at him again, really drinking in every facet of his entire being that you can latch onto and obsess over. You’re remembering why you were so anxious to get out of this sinkhole, it’s a miracle you ever got out of it in the first place. His hair’s all messy, dark curls strewn about like a windswept bale of hay. A storm is brewing in his eyes, like he could Earth to rotate in the opposite direction if he wanted it to. He works his jaw around in a weird way to get rid of the soreness after grinding his teeth.

It’s tantalizing, being the hand holding a man on the edge back from wreaking his God given havoc.

You dot a quick peck on his cheek, scrunching your nose up at the barest hint of prickly stubble.

His eyes widen, and the sun itself shines brighter. The cutest light dusting of pink spreads across his face, so he one ups you by pressing your lips together. It’s exactly how a first kiss should feel, a simple gesture that leaves you breathless and with more butterflies than a flower garden swarming in your tummy. There’s no fireworks, but you can hear wind chimes and birds singing as your lips glide together, the meeting of your tongues is so natural that you won’t be able to remember when his slipped through the seam of your mouth. You want to keen as he maps out your teeth, his spit has to have some kind of aphrodisiac in it.

Anakin works your jeans open and off your legs completely, his pupils expand when he sees your thick thighs in all their glory but he keeps himself from slapping them and acting like they’re the only part of your body. There’s an ever growing to do list in both of your heads, your combined inexperience brings a flurry of perverted ideas and porn scenarios to recreate with it, and you’re sad that you’ll very likely leave with none of them being fulfilled.

He yanks the collar of your tank below your chest, immediately leaving over to bite your cute breasts with all the grace of a rattlesnake. He doesn’t try to make any marks, he just wants to bite wildly and with reckless abandon, like he’s using your tits to self soothe. You’d do the same if he let you at his pecs to be fair, his chest is practically as big as yours if not bigger.

“This means somethin’ to me, hear that? ‘m always gonna remember my first.” He spits, clutching onto your bruised tit like he’s a split second away from sinking his hand into your viscera and dumpster diving for your heart.

He pauses pawing at your tits to reach in his back pocket and pull out a condom. It’s crumpled and the packaging is worn by rubbing against the denim of Anakin’s jeans, you can tell that he’s excited to finally put it to use. You’re glad that there’s some safety measures being taken, but your heart swoops in disappointment at the dose of reality. It’s the kind of thing that calls for the most diabolical, unhinged, strings of goopy fluid hanging from his balls as they slap against your rippling ass, raw sex. You don’t let yourself pout, Anakin’s making good use of the only working brain cell between the two of you. You scoot back on his lap to give him room to pop to button on his pants and whip his dick out. It makes a heavy ‘thwop!’ as it slaps against Anakin’s abs.

Your mouth waters at the sight, so thick with the just right amount of curve, it would scratch your throat perfectly. His hands shake harder as he rips the condom’s packaging open with his teeth and rolls it on his twitching length. You take a deep breath, finding comfort in the tense muscles on Anakin’s shoulders through his warm flannel. He curls a hand around the base of his cock and grasps it tightly, positioning it right under your empty hole. You’re lucky he didn’t have to tell you what to do, because working yourself down every inch would’ve been much more painful if you already needed to be taught a lesson. It’s weirdly sweet, the chaste pecks he presses along your nose and jawline as you adjust to what feels like a tree log forcing your tender folds to stretch around it. Your slutty body tries to twist itself in a pretzel with the way you’re swiveling your hips, trying to get more of Anakin’s dick inside of you when you’ve miraculously already swallowed him to the hilt.

“I want this pretty pussy weepin’ for me, I’m awfully sorry honey but i’m not stopping till it’s gushin’ all over me.” He speaks in between wet kisses up and down the column of your throat.

“Mmm- It’s okay, I want it like that, Ani. Promise- oh my god, so big.”

You make him feel like a man trying to outrun a forest fire only to get swept up in a tornado. Like there’s a fever in his brain that’s gotten into his blood, black tar dripping into his liver. Drives a man to drink so he can have a sliver of that feeling, that scalding need not even God could give you. There’s no finesse or coordination to anything, his lips frantically scurry along random spots on your upper body. His upward thrusts are heavy hitting and wrangle your breath out in stuttered gasps, he moves as if he were riding a horse, following only the imagined scent of old blood. Anakin’s cock is so big your walls could rip if he wasn’t always keeping a sharp eye on how much he’s bullying you. He doesn’t try anything crazy like fucking your cervix, it might shock you so much that you remeber exactly how long it’s been since he’s had your car “taken to the shop”.

His spurs dig into the dirt as he slaps your ass, the material of his gloves adding an extra bit of ‘umph!’ to the resulting sting. Anakin’s jeans are so warm against your ass that it takes a few more spanks before you really get the urge to bend over his lap and tell him to just have at it until you sob. You’re on an ecstatic high, living in the present with a near stranger’s dick balls deep inside of you. His eyes gleam gold when you make eye contact, and you find it so easy to fall down the rabbit hole, letting this man burn away all your responsibilities until he’s the last one left standing in a sea of ashes.

You don’t mind that he stops talking eventually, switching to gruff grunts and harsh yells. ‘Don’t be so stiff, let the movement roll through you.’ Anakin digs his fingers into the meat of your jiggling ass and delivers a final smack to both cheeks. You sigh in relief, but then you snap out of your cockdrunk haze to yelp at the cruel hit to your swollen clit.

“Need ya to keep squeakin’ sweets.” He orders. “Don’t want the townsfolk to think I fucked your brain out your ears.”

It’d be polite to make conversation with the people you meet when Anakin parades you around with his hat on your head later, something of a pre engagement tour. If the Force is good, you’ll be willing, because rope burn isn’t something you want to become your new normal.

“Chin up, buttercup,” He says almost bashfully despite how hard he’s pounding your puffy cunt, “We can get some ice cream at the fair after if ya like, make it a cute little second date.”

You whimper and harshly pull his hair, earning you a throaty moan and another slap to your clit, saying yes to him like you’ve already done a million times. You thought that the pure social anxiety of being around so many of Anakin’s employees would be nerve wracking, it’s nothing compared to having to speak to them AND keep their boss’s cum from oozing down your leg. Anakin’s discarded belt catches your eye when a sharp thrust sends your head falling back, and you picture the scuffed up belt buckle as the O shaped ring of a more traditional collar. The black stains from working on your car only add to the appeal, it scares you exactly how much you’d let the man fucking you with a cheap gas station condom get away with. You’ve already heard him kill a man, finding yourself in a relationship is pretty much the natural next step.

When he cums deep inside with a hoarse growl, there’s the sound of a bear trap slamming shut on an unsuspecting bunny rabbit. Your simultaneous orgasm is the tiny squeal it makes before it dies.

“I forgot to ask, hun, what stuffed animal do ya want me to win for ya?”

- faetreides 2024. do not repost, translate, or put my works into ai

[cy-cyborg]

Disability Tropes: The disabling change of heart

When a character in a story becomes disabled, they'll sometimes experience a trope that I like to call "the disabling change of heart". This is when the character goes through a massive change in their outlook, their personality, their goals or even roll in the story, specifically because they became (or are about to become) physically disabled. Sometimes, this will be in relatively small ways: the happy-go-lucky comedic relief character might become bitter, angry and jaded after getting into an accident that caused a spinal injury, or the severally depressed and nihilistic character might suddenly start acting more cheerful and hopeful, stating that loosing their leg has "put things into perspective and showed them what really matters". In other cases though, the impact is much larger, the heroic character you've been hearing about looses an arm thanks to the main character's actions, causing them to become consumed with anger and self-loathing which they take out on everyone else, eventually becoming an antagonist as they seek revenge for what the main character did to them. The morally grey or even villainous character is injured by their own scheme, giving themselves a permanent disability in the process, which prompts a change of heart and leads them to turn their lives around and become better people, maybe even deciding to team up with the heroes.

Now, having a character go through a personality and goal change due to a major life event, such as becoming physically disabled, isn't inherently bad. A lot of writers are told to tie major shifts in your character's development to major life events, because realistically, something like becoming newly disabled will at least impact how you view the world around you. I very frequently talk about how if I didn't loose my legs, I would have become a vastly different person, but the issues with this trope depends on how it's used and the reasons behind these developments, and whether or not the change suits the character in question.

Before we get into things, I would like to specify that in this post, I'm only going to be talking about how this trope is used with physical disabilities and other easily visible forms of disability. It does show up with characters who develop disabilities under the mentally ill and neurodivergent umbrellas, and is actually a bit more common than what I'm talking about today, but the specific ways its utilised are so different that it's more or less a separate trope, and one that deserves much more attention than I could give it here as this is already going to be a pretty long post. So for today, I'm keeping to it's use with physical and visible disabilities, and we'll talk about how this trope is used with neurodivergence and mental illness another day.

The main thing you need to be mindful of is ensuring that you, as an author, are not including your ingrained biases about disability into the reasoning behind the change. Let's look at one of the examples from before, an evil character who, after loosing their arm (because it's almost always loosing an arm for some reason) becomes a villain and wants revenge against the main character. In a story like this example, the character who became an amputee often views this new disability as something that has ruined their life. It's something that has caused them to suffer, and they want to make the main character (or whoever has "wronged" them) suffer like they did. Stories like this example portray disability as something that is not just horrible, but life-destroying, especially with villains who become all-consumed by the misery this disability has brought them. Many stories that utilise this version of the trope also often perpetuate the idea that if you become disabled, you'll have to give up all the things you love and your goals, even when this wouldn't necessarily be true for the character in question.

Let's say your character was a knight, and the main character cut off their arm in a training accident. obviously you can't be a knight with only one arm because you can't fight anymore, so they left their order. Now this character has become a villain and has found power that "makes up" for their disability, perhaps magic or some other force that doesn't exist in the real world, and are back to get revenge on the character for ruining their lives. Here's the thing though, the loss of a limb, or at least, the loss of an arm specifically, often isn't the career ender people think it is, even back then. In fact, there are many historical records of real amputees continuing to serve as knights and other similar military roles after loosing an arm or at the very least, continuing to fight in other ways. One such example was Götz of the Iron Hand, a mercenary knight who lost his arm to a cannon. Götz had fought as part of the Roman empire's military in 1498, but shortly after left to form his own mercenary company. He lost his hand in 1504 and continued his career as a mercenary with the help of an iron prosthetic capable of holding his sword and the reigns of his horse, among many other things such as writing, for another 40 years. Götz wasn't unique in this though, several suits of armour from the same time period have been found with integrated prosthetic hands, though the names of their owners are unknown. There was also Oruç Reis (aka Aruj Barbarossa), A privateer admiral who served the Ottoman Empire in and around the Mediterranean who lost his left hand - earning him one of many nicknames: Silver-Hand, thanks to the colour of his prosthetic. Oruç, like Götz, continued his career for several more years until he was eventually killed in 1518.

My point in bringing this up, is to highlight how important it is to double check that the reason your character's whole motivation for turning to villainy, isn't just based on your ideas about what a disabled person can or can not do. Actually double check it, research it, especially if it's important for your plot.

Even in the cases where the disability in question actually would stop someone from being able to do something, the incorrect assumptions can still occur and cause issues in different ways. For example, a character in a more modern setting who looses their arm due to an accident the main character was responsible for while serving in the military would be discharged, ruining the character's plan to become a general some day. This absolutely would be devastating for a character like that, and they realistically could struggle to adjust, both in terms of getting used to their disability and finding new goals for their life. They may well feel anger at the main character, however, if you are portraying just living with a disability, in the case of this example, living with an amputation as inherently "suffering" for no other reason than they are disabled, it is still perpetuating those really negative ideas about disability. I've said this a few times in other posts, but villains who are evil or even just antagonists purely because they're disabled or are trying to avoid becoming disabled is a trope all its own and one that is best avoided if you yourself aren't disabled, as even outside of spreading these negative ideas about life with a disability, it's just an overdone and overused trope.

But what about when this trope goes in the other direction? when you have an antagonistic or even just morally grey character who becomes disabled and this is the catalyst that turns them into a good guy?

For the longest time, I knew I usually disliked this version of the trope too, but I couldn't put my finger on why. With disability being the reason someone became a villain, the underlying reason it's there is often able to be boiled down to "I, the writer, think being disabled would be terrible and life like that is inherently suffering, so this character is angry about it," which is obviously an issue (the "inherently suffering" bit, not the anger). However, when a character becomes good due to becoming disabled, the reasoning is usually more along the lines of, "this is a big change in a character's life that has caused them to reconsider and revaluate things" (or at least, that's what I thought). This isn't bad, nor is it necessarily unrealistic. Hell, as I already said, I do consider my disability to be a catalyst that made me into who I am today. I also know plenty of people who, after becoming disabled later in life, did have a big change in how they viewed themselves and the world, and who consider themselves better people since becoming disabled. It's far, far from a universal experience, mind you, but it does happen. So why did this version of the trope still not sit right with me?

Well, I think there's a few reasons for it. The first being that there's a tendency for non-disabled people to think real disabled people are just incapable of evil deeds, both in the sense that they aren't physically capable of doing them (which is bad and not even always true for the reasons we already discussed), but also in the sense that there's this idea that disabled people are, for some reason, inherently more "good" and "innocent" - As if breaking your back or loosing a limb causes all evil and impure thoughts to be purged from the body. This is a result of many folks viewing disabled people as child-like, and thus attributing child-like traits (such as innocence) to them, even subconsciously. This is an incredibly common issue and something disability rights organisations are constantly pushing back against, as this mentality can cause a lot of unnecessary barriers for us. With how often I and many other disabled people are subjected to infantilization, I would be honestly shocked if it wasn't at least partially responsible for people thinking becoming disabled is a good reason to kick off a redemption arc.

This infantilization isn't unique to physically disabled people by the way, in fact it's way, way, more commonly directed at people with intellectual and developmental disabilities - or at least, people are more open about it, but as I already mentioned, how that is reflected in tropes like The Disabling Change of Heart is vastly different and deserves a post of it's own.

That's mostly just speculation on my part though, since that infantilising mindset does show up a lot in media, but not usually as part of this trope specifically.

However, it's not the only reason I wasn't a fan of it. When the disabling change of heart is used to fuel redemption arcs, I think, once again, that the disability itself being credited with causing the change directly is another factor. When this happens, it's usually because "it put things into perspective for me and showed me what really mattered."

This sounds better than our previous example on the surface, but stories that use this logic are often still portraying disability as an inherently bad and tragic thing, something so bad, in fact, that it makes all the other (legitimate) issues they thought were massive before seem so small by comparison. This is a type of inspiration porn: content made to make non-disabled people feel inspired or just better about their own situation. It's the mentality of "well my life is bad, but it could be worse, at least I'm not disabled like that!"

In a fictional story, this might look like an athlete character who dreamed of making it big so they could be famous and get out of poverty. They were a dick to anyone who got in their way but only because they were worried about not being able to make rent if they don't constantly win. One day though, they overworked themselves and got into a car accident on the way home because they were too tired, and now they're in a wheelchair and can no longer walk, which is (supposedly) absolutely tragic and way worse than anything else they were already going through. But they end up becoming a better person because it has put things into perspective for them. Yeah they were struggling to make ends meet, but at least they weren't disabled! Now that they are, they know they shouldn't have cared so much, because money doesn't matter when compared to not being able to walk, right?

As well as portraying disability in a negative light, these kinds of stories dismiss and diminish the other struggles or challenges the character is experiencing, placing the status of "not disabled" above all else.

There's also the fact that, when a lot of real people say their disabilities had positive impacts on their lives, they don't usually mean the disability itself is directly responsible for the change. There's exceptions of course but for myself personally, and most of the people I know who say they are better people because of/since becoming disabled, the disability has been more of a neutral catalyst than the actual cause of positive change. Meaning, it opened the door to allow those changes to happen, but it wasn't the direct cause. For me personally, becoming physically disabled at a young age didn't make me a nice person like people expect, I was still a little judgemental asshole for a lot of my childhood. However, because I was disabled, I had to travel a lot, initially because I needed medical treatment that my local hospital wasn't equip to provide, and later, because I started competing in disability sports. because of both of those things, I met people I never would have otherwise who made me reconsider what I'd been taught on a wide range of subjects, and made me question where those beliefs had come from in the first place. When I say my disability played a part in who I became, it wasn't because my disability itself change me, but it helped me meet people who were positive influences on me and my life. but when creatives make characters who experience arcs like this, they ignore this, again, defaulting to the "this was a bad thing that just put all my other problems into perspective" reasoning.

Some iterations of this trope also use disability as a kind of "karmic punishment" where the disability is portrayed as a rightfully deserved punishment for an evil character's deeds - usually something relating to the disability they acquired but not always. An example might look like an evil tyrant who punishes the rebels they captured by cutting off their hands. Eventually, this catches up with him, maybe the friend or a child of one of the rebels is able to capture the tyrant and cuts his hands off as payback so that he gets a taste of his own medicine, a taste of the suffering he imposed on others. Now facing at least one of the same realities of the people he subjugated, he realises the error of his ways. With some pressure from the main characters, he has a change of heart and surrenders himself, steps down to let someone else take his place, or perhaps he decides to start changing policies to be more in-line with these new morals until some other character usurps him, becoming an even bigger threat than the previous former tyrant.

Once again, stories that use a disability like this are still portraying the disability as an overall inherently bad thing, but there's the added layer at play in this example. The thing is, there are a lot of people in real-life who actually believe disability is a punishment from God. I remember one time when I was over in the US, an older lady came and sat down on the seat beside me on the bus and started asking me about my disability and specifically, how I became disabled. This isn't an unusual interaction, it happens fairly regularly whenever I use public transport, but on this particular day, the conversation suddenly shifted when I told her I became disabled when I was very young. This woman, despite the bus-driver's best efforts to get her to stop, ended up lecturing me for an hour and a half (during which time I couldn't move due to how my wheelchair was held in place) about how my disability was punishment from God for my parent's sins. She then tried to convince me to attend her church, claiming they would be able to heal me. And the thing is, this isn't an uncommon experience.

A lot of disabled people are targeted by cults using this same method: they'll convince people their disabilities are a punishment, make them believe they deserved it, that they just weren't good enough, but don't worry, if you repent and come to our specific church we can heal you. There was even a case in Australia recently that uncovered a cult called Universal Medicine, who taught that disabled people were reincarnations of evil people, and that being disabled in this life was their punishment, as well as that parents who have disabled children were being punished for other sinful behaviours. They were found to be operating a disability care service named Fabic that was being paid for by the NDIS, a subsection of the Australian government funded healthcare system that specifically aids disabled Australians by paying for and subsidising treatments, technologies (such as mobility aids) and other services relating to their disability. Fabic was found to be stealing excessive amounts of funding from their disabled clients under the guise of therapies and carer services, but was not actually helping their clients at all. Whether it's just taking advantage of them to get their money, or actually using this logic as a justification to mistreat them, this mentality of "disability is a punishment" actually gets real disabled people hurt or worse, and so seeing it come up in media, even if there is no ill-intent, can be very distressing and uncomfortable for disabled audiences.

So with all this being said, is the disabling change of heart a trope you should avoid in all it's forms and versions? No, but it does need to be handled with extreme care. I do think it should be avoided as a reason for a character becoming evil for the most part. If that really can't be avoided in your story though, at the very least, ensure that you foreshadow the change. Your happy little ray of sunshine, embodiment of sweetness and innocence type character probably isn't going to turn murderous and want revenge for an accident for example. A character who is likely to be driven to that kind of extreme of wanting revenge for their disability, so much so that they become a villain, probably already had at least a few traits that would predispose them to that line of thinking already, before becoming disabled. As for when it goes in the other direction, and you have a character becoming a good guy, avoid using the reasoning that "the disability put things into perspective for me". Instead, if you must use this version of the trope, use the character's new disability as the reason they encountered other people and situations that challenged their views, things they wouldn't have encountered otherwise. No matter the reason though, be very careful to avoid inspiration porn, and as always, try to find a sensitivity reader to give your story a once-over, just to make sure something didn't slip under your radar.

[Thumbnail ID: An illustrated image showing the same elf character twice. The picture of her on the left shows her laughing evilly, two tiny horns protruding through her brown hair. She is wearing a black dress and red shoes. On the right shows her in a yellow dress, sitting in a bright pink wheelchair with her head held eye and her eyes closed. The horns have been replaced with a glowing halo. In the centre is text that reads: "Disability Tropes: The disabling change of heart." /End ID]

[fumifooms]

Helki compilation

Helki is a prisoner-turned-servant. He’s a criminal canary and was implicitly one of Milsiril’s charges, and now that she’s retired he’s become her servant.

He must have gotten into Milsiril’s good graces, wether through attachment or convenience, which is a feat considering Milsiril’s a socially anxious recluse. Interesting since it’s not like he seems like the agreeable type, shifty upbeat delinquent style… We really don’t know much about him, not even what crimes he did, so there’s a lot of space for speculation on all grounds.

Edit: Shanghai QnA with Kui gave us a new juicy morsel of info!

Interesting… The original answer in japanese is: パッタドルと同じような杖を使っていました。今も同じものを支給されているのですが、すぐになくすのでもはや携帯していないようです。 That it’s written in japanese seems to say that there isn’t the same double translation issue there was last QnA, so if someone wants to look at the original phrasing and word choices it can be done. Perhaps Helki-Milsiril has a more protégé dynamic undertone than previously thought… "For various reasons", meaning circumstances that made it so the squad had to choose between saving him and saving their own skin, or like, "man this guy’s personality sucks we don’t really like him"? Likely to be a mix of several things, since ‘for various reasons’ implies the situation was either complex or they had multiple reasonings. In either case, the phrasing is very much that Milsiril couldn’t abandon him herself, and so a relationship sprung out of that. Another instance of outcasts seeking out and sticking with other outcasts in Dungeon Meshi. This could mean that it’s a bit less out of personal attachment and more out of a sense of duty on Milsiril’s side as well though.

Still edit: So then maybe him staying with Rin in that comic isn’t that much because of work ethics or that he cares for kids (or maybe he does because he feels kinship to them, alone and mistreated), but because he didn’t want to join the other canaries in that room chatting and laughing… Maybe the isolation was exacerbated because he became Milsiril’s favorite, teacher’s pet style, but I’d also be careful about assuming the others disproportionately dislike him, it could be that they just don’t really care for him. Why? Could be because of his personality, because he’s seen as shifty or unreliable or annoying, if an event, who knows who knows, but I like to think because of the Rin comic that he generally just tends to be a loner, that he’s "weird" in a neurodivergent vibe, he doesn’t conform to proper social behavior which in elven society seems especially alienating. He’s the only one with Rin to think of her sake, not only worth observing/caring for but also asks her to eat, but he does this with an offputting stare, not really emoting, and then well, the infamous alone with her staring munching covered in blood panel. He stands out. I’m a fan of the theory that it was a "Helki? Not that I dislike the guy but I’m not risking my skin for him" situation… Ok end edit back to older observations.

He seemed to be acting out of his own initiative in the Rin comic, he doesn’t look thrilled to be there in many post-canary comics but he also seems content enough. He restrains Milsiril in the Mithrun cleaning comic which is interesting to think of for their relationship.

It’s fun to notice how he’s the only one that didn’t get bored of looking after Rin, and then reports back about her condition… I’d say he was getting used to taking care of kids which would come with the job of serving Milsiril, but then, not enough for him to clean the blood off himself hah. In this way it’s interesting to think about his relationship to the idea of parenthood, he’s probably the closest thing to a father figure/male role model Kabru had growing up, without mentioning the other kids. I feel like he’d consider himself an older brother, cousin or uncle figure sooo much sooner than a father, but even then I do think it’s just his job and he’s not really invested or forming real relationships with any of them much.

It’s curious to note that he’s dressed in canary uniform presumably after having been pardoned and living with Milsiril? Which you can tell by the armor bits (the yellow strips of spider silk). In the Kabru training montage and the Rin comic specifically. It seems very implausible for him to have still been a canary while being a retired Milsiril’s servant and being with her all the time, and the cleaning with Mithrun comic (where he’s not in uniform) happens after Utaya so it could happen after Kabru was taken in but around the time of the Rin comic. So why uniform? It could be one of the best outfits he has, so it’d make sense to wear it around especially if you’re sparring or getting… Blood on you? Could just be because that's how Milsiril wants him to dress. But yeah we don't know when exactly Helki becoming Milsiril’s servant happened. We do see Mithrun’s charge Cithis be tasked with taking care of him, so a charge being given a servant-caretaker role doesn’t seem all that out of the ordinary, sometimes even prior to retiring.

Imo, if he doesn't work for Milsiril he goes back to jail/the canaries/has to try and get a job instead of just tending to her, so Helki is staying with Milsiril because she's the best option for him. He’s her milsiril's personal servant and does mostly dull tasks involved in that. He’s not particularly suited to the role but they’ve gotten used to each other to him so she took him with her, and he does prefer it to canary work so it works out decent for him. I think he’s used to reading her and managing her moods and he’s one of the rare social connection she has.

Under spoiler is stage 2 interpretation stuff, bigger speculation, in a reblog I’ll make soon I’ll go over my thoughts for stage 3 interpretation lol. Helsiril I’m coming for you

Translation of the canary hierachy chart used is by Thatsmimi, here

[nicksversion]

⚠️!PSA FOR EVERYONE!⚠️

I know we are all terrified, upset, and angry right now but DON’T PANIC YET! They are recounting the votes on Friday November 8th. The electoral college isn’t done voting and the true results could take till as late as December. We also have till January 19th to come up with a plan. Now with that being said below I have tips on how to get through this if things take a turn for the worst.

How to survive the next four years:

1. Stay alive:

As much as you will be feeling, validly so, keep going. It’s okay to grieve and feel what you need to but they want you to give up/be stagnant. Live out of spite if you have to but don’t let them win.

Inclusivetherapists.com/crisis gives you resources to call if you are struggling and you don’t have to be in crisis to reach out. Police are not involved with the hotlines and won’t be notified.

2. Play dumb:

You now know nothing about anyone.

For example:

Your friend who’s trans or a part of the LGBTQIA+ community, you have no idea. Same goes for your neurodivergent friends.

Your immigrant friend, they were born here

3. Stay strapped:

Get firearm training, purchase a firearm, and take self defense classes. It’s better to be prepared to fight than be blindsided by it. Additionally, don’t let your guard down in public ever and stay inside as much as humanly possible.

4. Hold your tongue:

Be careful what you say/ post. You never know who’s listening with malicious intent. Don’t talk about anything that doesn’t align with the MAGA point of view and if you are asked about it you tell them you don’t talk about politics.

5. Remember the dress code:

You want to dress as conformative and conservative as possible. I know it will suck but if you are dressed any other way you make yourself a target. Look up how to do your makeup to pass as fem/mas if you need to.

Additional information and tips:

Everything will not fall apart overnight, these things take time but you should still be prepared for it.

Propaganda will be everywhere, make sure you are getting your information from reliable sources.

They will be doing everything possible to change your beliefs to align with them, DO NOT FALL FOR IT!

Do your own research about how Hitler came to power and went through with the genocide. If you know the signs, you can help deinfluence the lies that will be spread (safely of course)

If you are planning to participate in the 4b movement be prepared for violent reactions. Men will not react well to not getting their way so make sure you can protect yourself if things go south.

Plan b has a shelf life of four years when stored in a cool dry place. It is purchasable on Amazon for less than $10 when you search levonorgestrel pill (it’s the name of what’s in plan b)

If you’re looking for doctors to give you long term birth control look up Reddit child free doctors list (it’s a list of international doctors who will let you have it and is updated by patients)

Delete your period tracking apps and use a physical calendar to track them. The government has access to them.

Freethepill.org gives you a bunch of resources to get the pill, if you are able stock up as you see fit.

If you have children in school, buy books that teach about evolution, black history, and all other things America has done to other countries.

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTF3444aD/ - recommendations of places to go to get out of the US

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTF3VPUQc/ - how to get a passport

Project 2025 seeks to ban porn so start saving your favorite books/fanfics on external hardrives.

I will update this post as I research more ways to get through this. It is important that you take time for yourself and make sure you’re okay before trying to help others. Stay safe, stay alert, and stay informed. I wish you all the best.

[joanofexys]

i don't want to start a war or anything but i know nothing about cults. so i'm really curious if you have any thoughts on former ravens being in a long-term relationship with other former ravens once they're out of that environment. like maybe it's realistic or maybe it wouldn't cause as many problems as one would assume...

OKAY SO

this is actually such a good question and something i’m very excited to talk about. yet another disclaimer that my experience is unique, as are all cult survivors, and my opinion isn’t like an objective fact just observations from being a cult a survivor. since i haven’t made a cult post in awhile

but cult survivors tend to flock to each other. without even realizing most of it the time. as a cult survivor the majority of my friends are fellow cult survivors. some of them i grew up with and others i befriended without even knowing they were in a cult. you’ll hear a lot of queer people or neurodivergent people talk about their friend groups being predominantly queer or ND just by complete coincidence and i’d say a very similar thing happens to cult survivors. and of course a lot of us also seek each other out as support systems for a sense of community and understanding and shared experiences.

and there are couples who are in cults together and often get married while in the cults who will often deconstruct and leave together. obviously it seems like the majority of the time it’s just one person in the couple leaving the cult but i wouldn’t discount the amount of couples who leave together or say they’re a rarity.

all that to say i think it’s very likely for couples who were secretly together in the nest to stay together. especially because a lot of ravens haven’t worked through the mindset of being in a cult. that us vs them mentality.

it actually probably seems beneficial to them once they graduate. and it’s probably something that reflects well in the media too. a raven couple signing to the same team and then later publicly being a couple. the media gets to use that “power couple” sort of spin. the ravens get someone who understands and a way to still rely on the partner system. it’s a safe option.

and there’s a couple ways it can go. they feed into each other’s patterns. they cling the nest and everything they were taught. they might function fine that way but they’re not healing. they’re not unlearning anything. it could even make it worse, send them spiralling downwards. they could crash and burn. or it’s a way to slowly adjust to the outside world. they don’t drown without someone by their side. it’s a way to ease into everything with someone that understands. and maybe with that they get the time to think about everything they were put through. as they recognize what was wrong with the nest they have someone to turn to when they feel like they can’t tell anyone else. they get to work through things together. relearn healthy relationships and boundaries and how to be people again. and those things that are too heavy, too shameful, too gut wrenching to confess to anyone who didn’t go through it too can finally be said.

or there’s the option of ravens who never dated in the nest seeking each other out afterwards and dating. this is probably something messy and unhealthy for former ravens who have never tried to heal. they’d likely flock back to each other and become codependent, fall back into habits in the nest. but it also has the opportunity of being something healthy. it’s that same sense of community, of understanding.

even former ravens who have adjusted to life outside the nest, who have relearned how to be people, may not feel comfortable with dating or with being surrounded by people who just don’t understand. and i’m not saying that cult survivors can’t date non cult survivors. obviously those relationships happen and they can be fully healthy and loving with a lot of understanding and growth. they work just fine. but there might be some ravens who feel like that’s not possible for them. they’ll find people with similar experiences, other ravens, who just get it.

in general i think it’s incredibly likely that a lot of ravens tend to reconnect or stay together outside of the nest. and that has the potential to be good or bad. i don’t doubt that some of them just cut each other off entirely. some might be more causal friends than anything. but maybe they meet up for breakfast when they’re playing in the same city. they might send each other wedding invites or christmas cards. a text with a therapist’s information and a mention that they’ve been really helpful in working through things. a lot of them might be a lot closer. teams made up almost entirely of former ravens. a lot of them might be roommates. they spend a lot of time together on and off the court. a change from their obligated time spent together in the nest to actually becoming friends. ravens retiring together and following each other into the same field. coaches, journalists, commentators. eventually moving further away but staying in touch. regular phone calls and texting every day.

the ravens healing does not necessitate them cutting each other out of their lives. though that’s something that people might assume. they can continue to co-exist and even maintain relationships with each other in a healthy way if they do it right. and a lot of them might do it unhealthily anyway. it’s unlikely that ravens uninterested in healing or working through trauma will let each other go when their system relied on an unhealthy level of dependency.

[spamsmcgee]

Violet!

-> Violet! by Waterparks

Oscar Piastri x an accident prone neurodivergent reader

Essentially the three-ish times that Oscar starts fussing over you, and the one time he got it right.

Groceries, unloading groceries.

Picking up a case of bottled water was enough to have Oscar hovering. Asking if you needed him to take it from you, as he tucked a carton of milk under his arm.

Not that he didn’t try taking the water first. You shoo’d him away from the trunk of your car before he had a chance.

“You really don’t know how this works,” you stated.

“I know that last time you dislocated something it was after you got your finger stuck in a mop bucket,” he opened your apartment door for you to walk in and drop the case of water onto your counter.

“And I had no idea because you don’t express pain.”

You rolled your eyes as he took the couple of steps towards you he needed to be able to rest his hands on your waist. You stared up at his eyes, watching him blink as he stared down at you. He watched your eyes shift from one of his to the other.

“What’re you thinking about?” He asked.

You didn’t answer, just wishing he could read your mind. Though some days it felt like he could, he could never understand the simple phrases that circled your mind when you couldn’t dream to force them out.

“I love you too,” he said, resting his forehead against yours for a moment before turning to start putting your things away.

~~~~

Oscar didn’t hover 24/7.

That would be unrealistic.

it was just when he got back to you after weeks, sometimes months, on the road for work.

He’d wake you up as early as he made it back and hide himself in your apartment until he felt like a normal person again. You’d go on with your life like you had been until he pulled himself up and out of your room like a bear from hibernation.

With an insatiable thirst from well over 24 hours of sleep to combat the jet lag, he started the day watching you cook breakfast.

Not a measuring cup to be seen, you’d drift from one spot in the kitchen to another with the steady destruction of a tornado. Always producing the best waffles and coffee and parfait he’d ever have. Always better than the last, despite your unwavering commitment to your recipe.

You’d reach for your favorite kitchen knife, and he’d make his way over. Your fingers held onto the fruit you cut in an unsettling fashion. He’d offer to cut the fruit for you every once in a while.

Too much of a deviation in your routine. So he settled for watching close as you shifted your hands uncomfortably to account for the knife and it’s ever shrinking victim.

~~~~

In theory, race weekends should be a sensory nightmare.

People rushed around you, stood in the garage next to some mechanics you were probably introduced to more than once. The adrenaline radiating from everyone around you, the yelling back and forth as the countdown to lights out drug on.

Weekends in the garage were the best.

you watched intently the way people dodged each other, racing back and forth to get any loose ends tied up.

As time went on, Oscar and Lando began making their own appearances in the garage as well. The former being sure to make eye contact whenever he could, seeking out a quick shaka to say “right on” and let him know you’re fine.

At that point your headphones hung around your neck. You sat in the busy noise, listening and watching with an intense focus that by the end of the event would make you more tired than anything. It’s fine. It’s more than fine.

You could always sleep better after days in the garage anyways.

~~~~

The end of the day could be a bit harder

Oscar would take extra care after race days, especially when you’ve spent the whole weekend in the garage. He’d tell you to quit overextending yourself, you’d tell him you want to see him drive.

Your head drifted downwards as you stared up over your sunglasses frames. Your AirPods tucked under your headphones blasting a playlist of the day. Both tale-tale signs of being checked out.

Oscar sat himself next to you as soon as his time in the media pen was done. He reached for your hand, which you offered without a second thought. He squeezed twice, his own signal to you asking if you’re ready.

You nodded and the two of you stood. Maybe a little quick, as you stumbled into his side. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders as the two of you made your way out and to wherever he had his car parked.

He chattered on to you about the race, and whatever drama it was that happened between Carlos and Pierre during the post race interviews. You nodded along, asking questions that would take him into a different area of whatever he could be excited about.

The path the two of you walked was pavement, for the most part it was very even. Not even a rock out of place. Staring down into the pavement as you walked and listened was an experience. The grey concrete shined in the sun overhead.

You let Oscar pull you to the side, away from the edge of the sidewalk. Your foot nearly slipping into the grass beside it, had your boyfriend not urged you away.

“wow I could almost feel that one,” you looked back to the edge of the sidewalk you had been walking on.

Oscar only laughed, squeezing your shoulder as the two of you continued your walk, “that’s what I’m here for, hm?”

[nocturnalnewsiestrash]

I'm in my feels about how the way ghosts interact with the world and each other affects Edwin and Charles as sensory seeking and sensory avoidant neurodivergents.

While it's already hard to understand the dynamics of ghostly interactions with their environment at play I'm pretty sure of these things. So we know that Edwin and Charles don't feel items and other alive people the same as they would alive. It's a different touch-based-sensory-less experience(?) at least that's what we know. And we know that they can feel other supernatural beings and each other, differently. I'm in the camp of its basically the same as normal human sensory touch but that could be argued a bit. However we're sticking with that both for the sake of this post and cause I want to.

This analysis got long as shit so readmore it is

Now we see Edwin being very touch avoidant with relatively everyone (besides Niko and Charles) and we see Charles being touch seeking with just about everyone. This makes sense to me under the fact that they as neurodivergent beings both have their more usual "resting state" on the touch-sensory-acceptance scale where Edwin generally rests at the sensory avoidant side and Charles rests at the sensory seeking side.

The implications though of how the fact that you can't really feel things through touch the same way as you would alive really gets to me though. Because you might think that without the sensory part of touch there wouldn't be anything to activate the neurodivergent avoidance right? Well obviously this is not the case for Edwin as we see him from the beginning tolerating touches from Charles and no one else. Then we gain Niko too as someone he appreciates the touch of. And if he can't really Feel the alive people, like Crystal, the same that means that the new ghost touch sensory experience also triggers the touch avoidance. And we see Charles practically touching anyone and (anything) who will let him which means the ghostly touch also triggers touch seeking. So does this mean that under DBDA dynamics neurodivergence finds a way to still be sensitive to sensory experiences under any circumstance? Both in avoiding and seeking it? Does this mean that it's more of a mental thing than the actual 5 senses of it? This is so interesting to me because I've often thought that having the ability to turn off and on sensory capabilities would be LOVELY for my mental health (I have ADHD) I'm not so sure that's true anymore because my brain would just adjust and find ways to avoid and seek THAT new feeling. The feeling of the absence of feeling.

Now the difference between ghost-alive touch/ghost-environmental object touch and ghost-fellow ghost or other supernatural being touch is also interesting to me in sensory seeking terms. Because we also see Edwin enjoying Charles touch specifically and at first we could assume that he only likes touch under ghostly sensory feelings. And us neurodivergent people often have our people that we have more spoons to handle the touch of than others. Which also has very adorablely soft implications of Charles being Edwin's Safe Person including sensorily. But then we see him enjoy Niko's touch too which means that he can also find his sensorily safe person in alive interaction sensories terms. And obviously we see Charles being sensory avoidant too when he's out of spoons for that, like when he bats Edwin's hand away when Edwin attempts to comfort him at the lighthouse. And we see Edwin also sensory seek in, as George put it, craving Charles' touch after their hug in episode 5.

Now I'm fairly certain that they feel things in Hell the same as they would between other supernatural beings and as they did when alive. Which after 70 fucking years of that, I don't even KNOW how I would feel about touch as an already sensory avoidant person if I was in Edwin's shoes. Genuinely an unfathomable part of the experience for me. But clearly Edwin still can handle touch just more specific about it. No different than a regular neurodivergence experience really. Which just gives me so many emotions because Edwin baby boy I knew you were so so strong but 🥺 how did you handle this so well too 🥺. I don't know how you did it. He has so much credit for how he's handled (well everything, but specifically this) so well under these circumstances. Someone pls tell him he deserves more credit than he gives himself.

Anyway my Edwin hell emotions aside, i saw someone mention awhile ago (I would credit them but I don't remember who) that Charles and Edwin wear their gloves so often specifically to avoid having to think about the fact that they don't have the normal human sense of touch anymore which is just so something. Because that in and of itself is its own sensory avoidant behavior. Avoiding the fact that they're not really experiencing a specific flavor of sensory anymore? Could this be true for their many layers of clothing they don to possible keep from feeling that they can't feel the environment the same? Like wind/the snow in ep1, the temperature, and other elements? Sensory avoidance too. A supernaturally charged type of sensory avoidance but still. Sensory avoidance. Plus how we see them lose their layers and gloves when they're in their office bubble alone? Their home? Their comfort space where they have the spoons to relax? And possibly have the spoons to handle the new (well new as a relative term) different type of touch sensory experience that is their ghostly existence? Cause in THESE terms Edwin's sensory seeking in the form of rolling up his sleeves and placing his legs propped up upon the couch arm to experience this new type of environmental feel more fully. And Charles is sensory seeking in the form of Touching Everyone of His Magic Bag Items (and doing classic neurodivergent rearranging and setting up just to take back down play but that's beside the point) and fidgeting by throwing (and consequently touching) the ball in ep1. Which IS in line with how when we're more emotionally comfortable we have the spoons for being more comfortable with other things like more touch and more audio and more visuals as neurodivergents. These are the environmental and worldly items based touch. But we also see them touching EACHOTHER more within their office comfort zone, which means they also feel more sensory seeking in the way we're familiar with in their home bubble. And having the spoons for being more emotionally vulnerable there too but that's not really the point of this post.

In conclusion, how Edwin and Charles still act as touch-sensory seeking and avoidant neurodivergent individuals after this long as ghosts really enamors me. I didn't really go into analyzing the other 4 senses have changed for them but we know they can see and hear the same so those sensory seeking levels wouldn't change, and smell and taste are too things they mentioned they don't have anymore as ghosts but they HAVEN'T touched on how smell and taste senses would work between them and other supernatural entities like. I can't really comment on how the minute differences between ghost on alive and and ghost on ghost feelings would differ without knowing more. Like perhaps this would be touched on more in season 2? Like the taste of eachother hmm? Much to think about. Anyway yeah this was my neurodivergent reading of their touch based sensory seeking, I probably didn't consider some things, so I would love to hear your input on this too!

[pendragora]

I can write a whole essay on why Alicent would love to have a daughter-in-law from outside the House Targaryen

First of all, Alicent is bewildered by the customs Targaryens have (something we see in her when she is younger). I believe that if it wasn't to enforce Aegon's claim to the throne, she would not have him and Helaena wed and rather prefer to have them marry someone outside of the house

Second, ever since her falling out with Rhaenyra, she is stripped off any female companionship. She is surrounded by men – Viserys, Larys, Otto, Criston, etc. – and nobody is her friend there. For everyone else she is the queen. The only friendship she's had is long gone and is unlikely to be restored. We can see her yearning to have female company when she spends time with Helaena, but here she is also refused that – her daughter is much unlike any other maiden she has ever encountered or was herself. Helaena is a true Targaryen, tormented by her dragon dreams, one of the biggest manifestations the blood of the dragon has

So, imagine if Aemond and Daeron were to marry and their pick fell on ladies from other noble houses

She would be thrilled to have another daughter (even if in-law) because that would provide the female companionship she is stripped off. Her daughters-n-law would be someone who know the struggle of being a young woman in the world of men, the labour it is to be a maiden in noble society of Westeros.  She would not only offer guidance to her sons' wives, but also cautiously seek and provide them with some actual warmth of a companionship such opportunity presents

Oh, and if she was to see that they were willing and eager to spend time with her? I think that, as a mother, all Alicent really want is to have some love from her children. I also believe that her love language is physical touch and she is so starved for it:

Her own father is not affectionate

Her husband is the last place she would seek warmth from, he's made it clear over the years where she stands

Her own blood, her children are struggling themselves in the misery that their situation gives them

Aegon is either drunk or in a whorehouse and he is stubborn in his self-loathing, he is convinced his own parents do not want or love him - he would never go for the comfort and warmth to Alicent

Helaena is neurodivergent and distant because of it, she can provide company, but it is not the company Alicent is used to. She can't touch her daughter (the older she gets, the less Helaena allows her to) and when they speak she can hardly understand her

Aemond is distant too, but they have their moments. I bet he is her favourite because he sometimes allows her close and gives her this affection she yearns for

Daeron is not even there in the King’s Landing with her

But they all are tormented by their fate. And she can't ask of them to be nicer. She knows they struggle. So does she

So, imagine women that have not known that struggle and legally are her daughters (in-law). Women that are eager to learn from the wise queen and look up to Alicent with adoring eyes. The last time she saw someone look at her this way was when her children were young and yet not off age, when they were not stripped off their childish innocence. She would do anything to bond with her daughters-in-law, but approach them cautiously, as if expecting them to also turn on her, like her children did at some point

But they don't and they openly express how much they want to be around her. She would be thrilled. It would be something for her

Something for her only

Suddenly, the Green Queen hosts tea parties with her daughters in law. She goes on promenades with them. They are often seen holding a conversation in public. In private Aemond and Daeron would notice how she holds them, either having a hand on the girls' wrist or half-embrace them

She would love to once again be a mother, not a queen mother, but just a mother, a female companion, dare I say, a friend to her daughters-in-law

She would become so much more relaxed and affectionate if her daughters in law were on board with physical affection, but she would never dare to raise a question herself

This is why I think she would cherish and support her daughters in law

She would be the support a newly-wedded into Targaryen family woman needs. Something she didn't have once she was married into the family

The Queen in Chains would not allow any other young girl or woman from outside the house to suffer the way she did

Please, I just want to hug her

Also? Bonus points if the daughters-in-law are from the Reach, she would have loved them twice as much

[hocuspocusbabyy]

Low key sat here crying at the thought of the anxious and or neurodivergent fxf pairing. ‘GENERAL’ Example ADHD gf with her Autism presenting gf.

Three couples example bellow:

Casey Novak & Alex Cabot:

Both struggle with balancing their work to home ratio. Not with each other, they are very understanding. Rather with themselves. Alex will take on more and more tasks, believing nobody will do it right and will save her time in the long run… till she burns out. Manifesting mostly as overstimulation, isolating herself as a result. Very minimal contact, she will bite your head off. Her skin feels like it’s crawling. Yet she cannot stand the idea of being left alone.

Casey on the other hand, can’t say no to anyone - need a favour? She already done it. She often forgets to do things for herself, including getting behind in paperwork leading to many long nights trying to catch up. Eventually the nervous energy gets the better of her and she has to do something. She can get manic with it, a good mix of stress and sleep deprivation. Casey will push herself past it till bordering on tears.

Casey started going to the batting cages again when it all gets too much. It was nice for her to just get some fruition out rather than training for a game, maintaining her body scholarship as she did in college. Alex took to joining her, seeking the redhead out whenever the anxiety had got the better of them both… after the inevitable argument when Casey storms out. A familiar car pulling into the grounds as she swings, the blonde slowly sinking into the bleachers - far enough that the cracking sound of the bat and hall didn’t offend her. She’d sit and read.

They’d take turns checking upon one another just a simple glance in each direction. Till Casey couldn’t possibly hit another, Alex having finished her chapter, working their way across the pitch. Gingerly reaching for the others hand. No apologies given, as they both understood one another’s side of things, simply smiling and driving home together.

Eloise Bridgerton & Cressida Cowper:

Eloise uses her writing as an outlet for emotion. When the world gets a little too much. After she’s turned away from a conversation and found she’d hardly gotten herself across at all. Eloise often struggled with expressing herself without coming across as abrasive. Many people shy away from her personality, her brazen. It often stuck to her, how life would have been so much easier if she had been more like her sisters. Her main standing was being a writer, yet people did not take to kindly to writers block.

Cressida’s is more frustration with articulating her mind, she noticed more as she got older. How passive people could be of her when a particular topic of interest ran away with her, only to look up and see nobody listening any longer. Or the assumption people made that she was lesser in intelligence just because it took her a moment to catch on. Rather her attention has been grasped counting the buttons of everyone’s shirts.

They can both cope with it, most of the time but often at the coming ends of seasons when countless balls and dinners are done everything crammed into one and the anxiety gets the best of them. Cressida delves into her sewing, perfecting the next round of presentations. Cressida liked to he prepared as a coping mechanism. Eloise on the other hand will bury herself in books, pulling extracts and taking apart words till her own can form upon the page.

They develop a pattern of hardly seeing each other; until one night when Eloise walks into her study to get some writing done she finds Cressida’s always sat in the Sewing. Neither taking any notice of the other as they work till eventually the blonde sighs loudly, the other woman looking up with a frown.

“It’s awfully quiet in here.” The blonde states passively still working on her sewing. Smirking lightly as the brunette simply clears her throat and starts reading out loud. Eventually the blonde will grow tired of sewing, swanning over to sit upon her lovers lap. Eloise allowing her gladly, they’d simply sit together till the early hours reading from the same page. Eloise never changes the page till Cressida is ready.

Wanda Maximoff & Natasha Romanoff:

Wanda has always struggled with being around crowds or new people. She knew who she liked and forming new relationships was something she’d always struggled with. A lot of people were either impossibly dull or didn’t stick around long enough to get to know her. It took her a while to open up. So weeks of conferences for the Avengers at Tony’s and the PR teams assistance; she really couldn’t stand the idea of people around anyone right now. It translates to anger. Practically chasing Sam from the kitchen when he offer to help.

Natasha was used to people relying on her, ever since she was a child. However sometimes the weight of it all gets a little too much. When there’s a particularly bad accident or job for the Avengers so many life’s on the line and responsibility. Nat going back into that black widow shell a little more.

Nat would come home after a long day dreading having to speak with everyone at the compound yet will be met by an empty floor. Wanda borderline angrily tossing items into dishes on the stove, her body in full culinary focus. The blonde would simply place the ingredients Wanda had text for on the counter, kissing the side of her head in passing and walking towards the couch. Opening a beer before watching reruns of spy old movies.

The food would be ready eventually a movie or two in, undisputed as her girlfriend had threatened anyone from coming close to her. Suddenly a bowl would appear in front of her, the redhead simply handing it over before sitting beside her. The blondes arm rising to pull them closer together and Wanda reaching to turn up the tv volume.

[curioscurio]

Some thoughts on hypersensitivity and comparing it to viewing life as of it were one giant unpredictable youtube poop, from a sensory standpoint:

Under cut!

To me, Hypersensitivity is like a deep fried youtube poop where random noises are extra loud and crunchy while some are slow and weird and the editing is insane. sometimes it's manageable but sometimes you have to just stop the video because its overwhelming right?

now imagine if real life was like a youtube poop. The dog is barking, and maybe 40 minutes ago it wasn't deep fried and max volume, but now it's annoying, overwhelming, maybe even painful.

Certain textures feel like bass boosted mr krabs in your brain in a bad way. Or maybe you love mr krabs crunchy nightcore and you're sensory seeking.

Now imagine you live your life 24/7 in a youtube poop. Many everyday or normal things may unexpectedly be presented to you youtube poop style. having to turn the volume up or down or pause or skip or even replay just to keep yourself from shutting down the tab.

Sometimes you get so tired of youtube poops you need to minimize and pause the tab (life) and recover/decompress/isolate/etc. On the other hand, if you cant close the tab or are somewhere with no way to manage that hypersensitivity, you just freak out and do anything you can to make it stop.

Meanwhile a neurotypical brain would only have youtube poop moments on certain occasions or in situations where it's expected life will be like a youtube poop. The difference is that hypersensitive neurodivergent people may be living life in a youtube poop every moment of their day.

Luckily, we have coping mechanisms and sensory accommodation tools to help!

Just wanted to talk out my view on hypersensitivity, and why some things bother me in different ways. I'm also trying to re teach myself better methods of coping with the world I live in, where before any uncomfortable or painful feeling and emotion was stored away so as to be "convenient" to others.

Well no more! I'm trying hard to let myself be inconvenient to others if it means taking care of myself!

[monstersinthecosmos]

Okay I don’t want this to be like an obnoxious millennial assumption because I’m positive that every generation has things like this, but the way autism and ADHD was treated for us in the 90’s and how it affects adult diagnoses is like, imo, so integral to our coming of age and the stories we tell and the way we’ve gotten to know ourselves, even the way it relates to our job market and economy and how we operate inside it, and especially the way a pandemic uncovered it for so many people and exposed the cracks and revealed that we were all just barely functioning and held together with popsicle sticks and anyway

I say that because maybe it’s the un-diagnosed 90’s child in me but I feel particularly emotional about Keith’s arc in learning that he’s part Galra, and the way even the creators said they made him sort of prickly because of his biology, and I just !! Think so much about Keith’s neurotype as a part Galra!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Cause something about being diagnosed later in life is like, looking back at all the other ways you tried to handle yourself, all the missteps, maybe even misdiagnoses. Like, how many times did you try to treat ANXIETY without realizing you didn’t have an anxiety disorder, you just can’t deal with your family blaring the TV from the next room? How many times were you told you were lazy, or lying, when you didn’t know what executive dysfunction is? 

Keith is such a lovely rich character because his prickliness is EARNED—we know what happened to him, we know he’s traumatized, we know he’s been treated poorly by many people in his life. We know that he grew up thinking that he’d been abandoned by one of the people who should’ve loved him the most, in the whole world. He even questions that in his vlog—he makes the connection that he has trouble with people because of his mom. 

But I just wonder like, how much of it is just his biology. Not understanding the body he’s in, being completely ignorant of one whole half of his culture. Had he ever mutated before the TBP fight? Did it take him by surprise, did it frighten him? ((* This is head canon territory LMAO there’s no way to really know—like, is he able to do this because he just spent so much time with Krolia, or does Shiro going That’s the Keith I remember mean they used to have really primal sex that turned his eyes yellow? Lol)) 

Like when we talk about even the most broad generic terms of saying someone is neurodivergent, we don't even need to put a real life label on Keith. Like he's literally not human! Of course his brain looks different! Of course he functions differently! And I wonder how much is nature v nurture -- if he knew the truth about his mom, if his dad had lived, if he'd been allowed a normal childhood, would he still have been a weird kid?

Cause like, even seeing the way Shiro is able to get through to him, we see ways that he allowed for thrill seeking, and he didn't judge Keith for stealing his car. It reminds me of like, what we know now about asking children to sit still in school, and how perhaps some children would do better with standing desks. Shiro wants him to behave and succeed, and doesn't judge him for being a car thief, and gets through to him by bringing him cliff diving. And it just feels like this clue, you know, that nothing is wrong with Keith, he's just living in a weird place where people don't get him.

It’s just really special to me, because there’s so many pieces in the sequence of events of Keith’s character arc, and I know I’ve said this a handful of times now, but I really sincerely believe it’s the only thing the show really nailed. Accepting himself during the BOM Trial -> MOMENTS later learning something very important about his biology -> spending time with Krolia -> coming back to pilot Black when he’s READY and WANTS to (unlike the first time, when he resisted) -> becoming a pragmatic strong leader by the end.

Gosh idk. 

I don’t really have anywhere to go with this, it’s just something I was thinking about today and it gets me real emotional. Like, Keith must have had these moments, re-evaluating who he’d been before he’d known, finally understanding why he was Like That, and it’s so healing to imagine him accepting his past self and forgiving it because he understands now. 

[viksalos]

The Mycelial Networking Project - A New Kind of Employment Structure for Neurodivergent Talent

Hey y'all--some of you might remember I used to be fairly active on here during my final few years of grad school, and then I nearly burned out of my PhD, found out I was autistic, and subsequently drastically reduced the time I spent on tumblr. Well, good news: I'm ok, I recovered from burnout, graduated, and discovered something surprising both in my PhD research and during my burnout recovery--cooperating with other people who are on the same wavelength as you is both more efficient for knowledge transfer in a variety of expert fields, and also socially healthier than struggling alone! Whoda thunk!

With that in mind, myself and Mykola Bilokonsky (creator of r/AutismTranslated, software developer, and Autistic coach) have been working for the past few months on the Mycelial Institute (at mycelial.institute in your address bar--I haven't linked it because tumblr search suppresses outside links, oops)

The Mycelial Institute is attempting to create a new kind of workplace that’s optimized for neurodivergent people. If you follow me on here or found this post from the tags, chances are you already know there are so many autistic, ADHD and other neurodivergent folks who have so much to give but who struggle to do so in a traditional employment context. We can be some of the most passionate experts you know and we'll still be languishing in unemployment because we're not able to do things the way everyone else does - and as a result everyone is worse off.

What if there was a different kind of employment available? One that:

Was completely worker owned, without any kind of profit-taking or power hierarchy orthogonal to the specific goals of the organization?

Understood that there are many different ways to contribute, and that some people can be profoundly valuable in some of those ways while struggling with others - and so decoupled them!

Accepted the fact that disability isn’t a fringe experience to marginalize but a core component of most peoples’ lives - especially during the age of Covid - and so prioritized accommodation?

Embraced non-punitive accountability - we have goals, we have challenges. Sometimes we can’t meet a goal because of a challenge. Instead of that being a source of shame, how can we make that an accepted learning experience and build in additional supports?

If this sounds like something you'd be interested in, please visit mycelial.institute. We are currently very early in this process, and are actively seeking collaborators. Currently we’re trying to build a diverse leadership team, meaning we want to find folks across as many marginalized identities as we can to help us make foundational decisions. This includes disability - we want non-speakers and intellectually disabled leadership as well. (You don’t need to be interested in a leadership role to fill out our submission form, we’re gathering a pool of folks in general.)

More info below the readmore:

We are the 🍄Mycelial Institute because we are inspired by the decompositional half of ecologies that often goes overlooked. Rather than competing for winner-take-all dominance, mushrooms accept that everything dies eventually and simply wait their turn to build large distributed networks that break down the waste of the broader system, giving rise to new forms of life. No ecosystem is complete without this component, and our economics generally fail to acknowledge this meaningfully.

A “Mycelial Network” here is a new kind of collective workplace. The corporate structure is such that there’s a board that steers the organization, made up of members. The organization seeks paying work from large clients who have needs that can be served by our diverse and specialized membership - but it’s not really important what kind of work that is, as long as it’s ethical. So we may do R&D for one client, engineering for another client, data analysis for another client, whatever - as long as we have folks in our membership who have things to contribute, we can match member to tasks.

The way this is structured is something we’re still working on, but we are thinking it’s likely going to be something like a Social Purpose Corporation or an L3C. The point is, we seek high paying work and exceed the expectations of our clients with specialist output, but those specialists are supported by other members as they carry out their tasks.

So there’s room in this organization for folks with e.g. a deep special interest in esoteric engineering practices, but there’s also room for those folks who derive deep satisfaction from filling out paperwork, or doing compliance or QA oversight, etc. We are a collective, and that means that everyone’s time is valuable and we sink or swim collectively.

Members are paid based on the decisions made by the board, but we’re leaning towards a flatter pay scale where folks are paid for contributing period, rather than treating some peoples’ time as more valuable than others, because we recognize that it requires a collective effort to get the work done and keep the client happy.

The organization itself may choose to keep a portion of proceeds to pay into a “Subsidy Pool”, which can be used to pay members to provide services to other members who couldn’t otherwise afford them. But nobody is getting a cut just for investing or anything like that, this institution doesn’t exist to enrich founders, it exists to cast a wide net of support for members of the served community.

(So far everyone involved is US-based and this will likely be a US-based organization, at least to start. That said, we don’t yet know what we don’t know, and welcome collaborators from other parts of the world at least for early days when we’re not making money etc yet anyway.

Just, we’re going to be figuring it out as we go along.)

-> mycelial.institute <-

[autistic-therian]

How did you find a Theriotype without shifts or feelings? I might be a Water Deer therian (I'm a polytherian!) but I haven't felt direct shifts. Occasionally I have a dream!

I'm still working on figuring out my exact theriotypes, so that question is sort of difficult to answer because, I haven't fully done that yet.

I get phantom sense quite often, usually tail wagging, which is what tipped me off to being canine, although I haven't narrowed it down beyond that.

Sometimes a lot of people will perceive me as a certain animal, and it's like they can see how I feel rather than what I look like. A lot of people at my college are convinced I'm "a raccoon in disguise" and honestly, yeah.

I've always felt nonhuman, and as polytherian myself sometimes it's difficult to tell different kintypes apart. I'm still working on setting more time aside to connect with my kintypes, although I've always subconsciously incorperated my therianthropy into my day-to-day. This helps me deal with things easier, I don't feel as suppressed as I used to, but it's also harder to separate out all the parts of me again. It's just all of me, a little bit, all the time.

I honestly couldn't tell you if I've ever shifted, there are so many things that I experience that have turned out to be due to my autism or adhd that I assumed to be universal experiences, so when it comes to therianthropy, I struggle to recognize things that not everyone feels.

I've masked my neurodivergency most of my life, and I've masked my non-humanness too, so any shifts I have had were likely beaten back with a stick lol. I'm still learning to accept and allow those things to come through and fully actualize for me, which is probably why I struggle to know my kintypes.

If you're looking for advice regarding figuring out your own kintypes, the best advice I can give is to learn about as many creatures as you can. Not every sign is going to be crystal clear, so having knowledge you can use to connect your experiences to a potential kintype will help heaps.

Putting yourself in nature and seeing what feels natural to do is another great way to start seeking answers. I usually get the urge to do quads, climb trees (especially to sleep in or wait for something pass by), and sneak around looking at the birds, which is what tipped me off that I'm some sort of feline.

I'm convinced being alterhuman is different for everyone, so some of these things may resonate with you, others might not. What's important is that you're not forcing anything or putting yourself in uncomfortable situations.

This was a great ask, and really thought provoking to answer, thank you!

Good luck and stay safe <3

~ Mangrove

[ckret2]

So in no way am I excusing his actions but does Bill have autism or what on his planet could be considered as such? Better yet does such a thing exist on his planet? Any form of neurodivergency?

I'm sure neurodivergence exists on his planet, in the sense that I'm sure there's a "typical" way shapes' brains develop & operate—by definition, neurotypical—and it would be stupid to assume that every single shape that ever existed had brains that operated the exact same way; so obviously any shape that isn't neurotypical would be, by definition, neurodivergent. To say a species doesn't have neurodivergency would be to say the species has zero variation in how the members' brains function, and that's pretty dumb worldbuilding unless you're saying that for a reason and plan to explore it.

However I'm not interested in stating "there's flatland autism" or "there's flatland [any other specific kind of neurodivergence]" because saying they have a specific common divergence from the norm that's observed in humans means also saying their norm is the same as humans' norm (or else that specific divergence from the norm couldn't exist). Like I realize for the sake of convenience we're all out here writing these aliens as basically similar to humans in psychology, I've made peace with that, but that doesn't mean I want to medically codify them as "literally just human brains in alien bodies."

Compared to human neurotypes, I do not write Bill as autistic. I do write Bill as ADHD-adjacent. "Adjacent" because I don't necessarily think he was born that way; but "brain wired to release chemicals wrong so you feel chronically understimulated" vs "you've been bored for the last billion years so you ARE chronically understimulated" will probably both produce a lot of the same symptoms. Brain fizzles out trying to focus on boring tasks; constantly seeking the path of least resistance to the nearest quick hit of stimulation; boredom is intolerably painful and chronic boredom feels like depression. Impulse control nonexistent. Sometimes trying to get up and do things feels like turning a car key and just hearing the engine sputter. Some executive function skills (like time management) may have gotten lost during the trillion years he didn't need to practice them (who needs to manage time when you can time travel?). Cannot stop talking; impatient with other people who don't stop talking. Can latch onto a project and work on it without a break for the next 10,000 years.

Again, this is compared to humans. I'm not interested in making any statement on whether compared to other shapes he has pseudo-ADHD or not. I do not factor the Experience Of Growing Up Neurodivergent In A Neurotypical Society into how I write his backstory. By shape standards he was perceived as a weird kid, but for medical reasons, not mental ones.