#of normal relationships and social interactions

[koifishhies]

Yess you’re so right about her perception of him changing after the dinner!! Don’t mind me I’m gonna yap about this now.

The way I see it, his job is a kind of special interest / hyperfocus for him, so while he’s working he’s completely locked in, and past the point of caring about masking and forcing himself to appear friendly. The thing with autism is that, for me at least, socializing and connecting with people isn’t something you can casually do on the side; you have to put in active effort into “acting normal” enough to do that. And that’s really fucking exhausting. For Alec, pairing that reality with the fact that he fumbled his last case partly BECAUSE of his personal relationship with Tess getting in the way, I can totally see how he forgoes even trying to put in that effort at all. He drops the mask and completely zeroes in on the task at hand.

Because of this, he’s direct and blunt and disregarding of social etiquette, and it comes across as cold and rude. Paired with all the trauma he went through with Sandbrooke making him a generally pessimistic, depressed person, the people in Broadchurch end up disliking him (if “shitface” is anything to go off of).

But then you take him out of work—and not only that, but put him in a position where he actually has to try and connect with these strangers, and socialize just for the sake of socializing—and he’s immediately awkward and unsure and doesn’t know what to say. It’s the horrifying moment where you realize, oh shit, I am in a Situation, and I have to try and Act Like A Human. And you’re all tense and frozen up and a little too hyperaware of your every action, and next thing you know you’re going on a rant about how unnecessary first names are and your coworker and her husband are looking at you like 😃😃

I feel like seeing this completely other side of Alec gave Ellie more perspective about him, and made her realize that the earlier actions that ticked her off didn’t come from a place of rudeness and entitlement. It was just cuz he’s not very good at socializing, and prefers to get straight to the point. In reality his motivations are quite sincere.

And she’s just kind of like, oh, okay. And adjusts accordingly. Simple as that. Which is so fucking cool!!

Mind you, this doesn’t mean she doesn’t voice her opinion when something he does outright bothers her. She’s quite vocal about that, and that’s fantastic. She’s open and understanding about his perspective while also setting boundaries.

Their interactions are rough at first, misunderstanding and butting heads, but they keep compromising and bouncing off each other enough until they find a balance. And if you notice, even out of work, Alec is never the level of awkward and tense again like he was during that first dinner. Because he’s not masking around her anymore. They’ve genuinely connected on a level that works for them.

And it doesn’t really go much deeper than that, because it doesn’t have to. And I just really like that.

I just love how broadchurch (unintentionally) made an autistic-coded detective, but instead of going the sherlock route they made him just. a guy. he’s not special in any way, he’s not a savant, he’s just kinda There and Traumatized About It the entire time.

like alec hardy wants one thing in life and it’s to do his job, but he’s also constantly faced with the unfortunate reality that his job Sucks. he’s also actively dying half the time. and that’s it that’s his character.

also he’s not a twink like most autistic coded savants in media, and I may not be a middle aged dad but that’s the kind of representation I can get behind

[narcissisticpdcultureis]

questioning vulnerable npd culture is worrying if my symptoms are pervasive enough to be considered a disorder. they are prevalent across a range of social situations, but they always display differently depending on who i’m around. hell, i’m different depending on who i’m around. i have no idea which one is the “real me”, if there’s a real me at all. around inferiors i fight when i feel challenged or appear especially pretentious to assert my dominance, meanwhile around people that aren’t exactly my equals yet i respect, i’m just quiet and subdued unless i have a strong opinion on a certain thing, in which i make it known i’m right. around people i admire, i try to appear as proper and eloquent as possible, far more mature and reliable than everybody else. if criticized by somebody i hold to high standards, i crash and split on them, but still allow them a chance to repair their relationship with me because i desire their praise. yet a bit of discontent still remains and my opinion will constantly waver if i remember how i’ve been embarrassed. with inferiors, i’ll be insulted by their criticism and soon turn defensive and bitter, but i won’t take it to heart because they’re far below me. and then there’s the issue of feeling so entitled and quick to rage when disrespected, but normally internalizing it when in public because i refuse to be perceived as rude, or step into a situation where i could possibly be embarrassed. last but not least (this is getting long. sorry), i just.. hardly ever leave my house. these are all situations that absolutely happen both publicly and digitally, but i feel such an apathy to others most of the time that whenever i have free time, i’m only doing what makes me happy and seeking praise from people who aren’t lower than me.. which then leads me to hardly interact with anybody in real life unless forced to. even if i feel these emotions so violently, is it considered “pervasive” enough? i don’t know.

-🪭📱

.

[reasoncourt]

my cousin said his girlfriend broke up with him and he doesn’t understand why. and i was like “well what’d she say?” and he said “she got rlly upset that i hooked up with someone but it was freshers week of course i was going to” and i was like “so u… cheated on her?” and he said “yeah but she’s so upset it doesn’t make sense. it was with her friend even!” and i was like “u cheated on her… with her friend” and he said “i hooked up with her friend, sure. but it was her friend i don’t know why she’s mad. AND it was freshers week” and my brother and i just stared at him for a bit and then decided to talk to each other instead because WHAT

[quillkiller]

having so many university au rosier twins thoughts

[sumplysilly]

He would not fucking be able to form emotional connections with others

He would not fucking feel empathy for others

He would not fucking be able to sustain any type of relationship

[bijoumikhawal]

I think if Ziyal was more obviously a little fucked up a lot of people would go from low key ignoring her to hating her but she should've been more obviously fucked up

[symphorine]

i deeply want to see other people's dms not because i think theyre talking about me but because i need to know if i am Doing Private Messaging Right. am i asking the same questions other people ask am i messaging enough people am i messaging them often enough am i showing appropriate reactions to what they say Am I Being Weird Or Inadequate At DMs. i need reference data. PLEASE

[cryptic-rainfall]

am I destined to be a heartbreaker? am I destined to only push people away? I thought I had this human socializing thing down. I got good enough at it that I overcame my social anxiety. (From evidence!) I can casually talk to people, and hold a conversation, and make them laugh and emote and everything. Is that all I will ever be, a casual person who can socialize casually, but can't do intimacy without hurting someone? I'll always fumble and push people away when it comes down to it? I thought I figured it out. After nearly two decades, it really seemed like I could handle it. And I can talk to a stranger in a coffee shop or a coworker, and the other person will walk away with a positive experience. But when it comes down to it, I'm still that mute middle schooler, unable to connect to other people in a way that's intimate and vulnerable. At least, not without making the other person think I hurt them.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

like hearing an autistic person talking abt realizing like "oh so friendships for some ppl don't involve always having to maintain a performance" and going damn right yeah and now "oh so friendships for some ppl involve their getting to expect that the other ppl will be interested in them and provide support" like huh go figure. more surprising like oh right i guess i always felt like interactions require maintaining a performance that can only go wrong (generally true; like there's no "well you're ruining things by keeping ppl from being the Real You so just Be Yourself" like a] masking isn't Real or done by Yourself or b] like if you unmask people like you now & ableism is over, b/c it was your fault for reacting to it in the first place) & thus also that i should be interested & provide support but not expect that in turn / the sense as well that you are/can only come up short and have things to make up for anyways while lucky whoever's even providing the time of day

then it's always an Exercise to go "oh right well beyond going [my god autistic character] the whole time, what Things re: winston billions was i still not quite seeing as as unusual / Not Good as they are. even for billions" like sure noticing he's holding on to the hopes of some kind of positive / actual relationship w/rian for like year 950 & this manifesting with the Determined Friendliness but zooming in like oh i guess that adamant amicability sure involves winston suppressing a negative reaction to negative treatment and yet still hoping for an improvement, which like, was always Possible but a) hinged on rian simply choosing to change how she regards/treats him (or someone intervening to change the situation) & b) apparently is not going to happen. thinking like yeah that's very Friendly of him. and knowing like man winston's sure still trying to keep this friendliness offer open for like two years. but also now more specifically going like Yeah and pretty fucked then that his baseline expectations don't include that Mutual Interest & Support (though someone being abusive is definitely interested just not in any good ways. and certainly not (actually) supportive)

[beta-adjacent]

Squealing and kicking my feet and hugging my pillow when I see people interact with my posts

[lightnersdream]

[fortes-fortuna-iogurtum]

oh another thing about "Miss Scarlet and the Duke" s2.01--I love Hattie. I might actually die for her. I hope she and Eliza become the best of friends.

[noxtivagus]

hdkfjalskdf just thinking of. video games or wtvr stories in general n my heart is just so full of them :((

[vadlings]

Represention of Autistic Frustration in Laios Dungeon Meshi

Like many other autistic people, I related strongly to Laios Touden while reading Dungeon Meshi. This post isn't going to spend time disputing whether he displays autistic traits or not—while I could do that, I want to focus on why specifically his portrayal struck a chord with me in a way the writing of most other autistic-coded characters has not.

Disclaimer: as the above suggests, this post is strongly informed by my own experiences as an autistic person, as well as the experiences of my neurodivergent friends with whom I have spoken about this subject. I want to clarify that in no way am I asserting my personal experience to be some Universal Autistic Experience. This post is about why Laios' character feels distinct and significant to me in regard to autistic representation, and while I'm at it, I do feel that I have interesting things to say about autistic representation in media generally. This also got a bit long, so I'm sticking it under a read more. Spoilers for up to the end of chapter 88 below.

The thing that stands out most to me in regard to Laios' characterisation is the open anger he displays when someone points out his inability to read other people. This comes up prominently in his interactions with "Shuro" (Toshiro Nakamoto):

The frustration pictured above (Laios continuing to physically tussle with Toshiro, using crude language toward him) becomes even more notable when you remember that this is Laios, who, outside of these interactions, is not easily fazed and often exists as a lighthearted contrast to the rest of the cast. Then we get to Laios' nightmare.

In Falin's words: "Nightmares love emotional wounds. Wounds you hold in your heart. Things that give you stress, or things that were traumatic for you. They aggravate memories like that and cause the dreamer to have terrible dreams." (chapter 42, page 10.) (damn. i'm properly citing for this post and everything.)

Thus, Laios' nightmare establishes an important fact: even if he is unable to recognise social blunders while he's making them, he's at least subconsciously aware that other people operate on a different wavelength to him, and that he's an outsider in many of his social circles (both past and present). His dream-father's disparaging words stress the impact this has had upon his ability to live up to the expectations set out for him, and we also get a panel of kids who smirk at him (presumably former bullies to some degree). Toshiro's appearance only hammers home how much Laios is still both humiliated and angered by his misunderstanding of their relationship.

I've thought a lot about anger as concomitant to the autistic experience. When autistic representation portrays ostracization, it's generally from an angle of the autistic character being upset at how conforming to neurotypical norms doesn't come easily to them; as a result, they express a desire to 'get better' at meeting neurotypical standards, a desire to become more 'normal' (whether the writing implies this is a good thing or not). In contrast, not once does Laios go, "I need to perform better in my social interactions, and try to care less about monsters, because that's what other people find weird." His frustration is directed outward rather than inward, and as a result, it's the people around him who are framed as nonsensical.

The Winged Lion starts delineating Laios' anger, and Laios' reaction is to think to himself, "It can sense all my thoughts, huh?" (chapter 88, page 16.) This is the scene that really resonated with me. I'm not saying I have never felt the desire to conform to neurotypical norms that is borne from insecurity, but primarily, I know that I don't want to work toward becoming 'normal'—I don't want to change myself for people who follow rules I find nonsensical. It's the difference between, "Oh god, why can't I get it," and, "WHY CAN'T YOU GET IT?" (phrasing here courtesy of my friend Miles @dogwoodbite). And for me personally, Dungeon Meshi is the first time I've seen this frustration and the resultant voluntary isolation from other people portrayed in media so candidly. Laios' anger is not downplayed or written to be easily palatable, either.

The culmination of Laios' frustrations in this scene wherein we learn that Laios has fantasised about "a pack of monsters attacking a village" drives home just how alienated he really feels. I need not go into his wish to become a monster himself, redolent of how many autistic people identify/have identified with non-humans to some degree as a result of a percieved disconnect from society (when I was younger, I wanted to be a robot. I still kind of do.)

Obviously, wishing death upon other people is a weighty thing, but the unfiltered nature of this page is what deeply resonated with me. The Winged Lion is laying Laios' deepest and most transgressive desires bare, and they are desires that are a product of lifelong ostracization by others (whether intentional or unintentional). This is the brand of anger I'm familiar with, and that my neurodivergent friends express being familiar with, but that I haven't seen portrayed in writing so explicitly before—in fact, it surprised me because most well-meaning autistic representation I've experienced veers toward infantilisation in trying make the autistic character's struggles easy for neurotypicals to sympathise with.

Let's also not neglect the symbolism inherent to Laios' daydream. "A pack of monsters attacking a village". Functionally, monsters are Laios' special interest—he percieves everything first and foremost through his passion for monsters. His daydream of monsters attacking—killing—humans, is fundamentally a daydream of the world he understands (monsters) overthrowing the world that is so illogical to him, that has repeatedly shunned him (other people). I joked to my friends that it's an autistic power fantasy, and it actually sort of is. And in it, his identity is aligned with that of the monsters, while his anger manifests in a palpable dissociation from the rest of humanity. This is one manga page. It's brief. It's also very, very raw to me. I think about it often.

To conclude, I love Laios Dungeon Meshi. This portrayal of open frustration in an autistic character meant a lot to me, and I hope I've sufficiently outlined why. Also, feel free to recommend media with autistic representation in the notes if you've read this far—I would really like to see if there is more of this nature. Thank you for reading. I'm very tired and should probably sleep now.

[infernalhomo]

the stupid thing about growing up alone is that i love hanging out with myself. i think i'm great company, and i genuinely don't mind doing most things in my life alone. in a lot of my attempts to befriend people i catch myself assessing whether i find this person enjoyable enough to hang out with for pursuing their friendship to be worth it over just being by myself instead.

so whenever other people inevitably reject me — because they find me too weird or off-putting or cringe — i get so fucking indignant about it. like how come no one else in the entire world finds me as interesting and fun to be around as i find myself. how dare they.

[starsenha]

YAPPER / S.J

Pairing ◊ fem!reader x bf!jake

Genre ◊ fluff, established relationship

Warnings ◊ mention of low social battery, jake overthinks a lot in this, introverted!reader x extroverted!jake

Word count ◊ 1k

Summary ◊ you and jake just started living together, and he had to get used to having an introvertes s/o.

a/n: this is so cute i'll die

The apartment was quiet, a comfortable contrast to the usual hum of Jake’s chatter. You’d been living together for just a few weeks now, but it already felt like home. Jake's energy filled the space—warm, playful, constant—much like a puppy that couldn’t contain its excitement. His endless chatter was something you loved about him, the way he could talk for hours about anything, whether it was the latest indie band he discovered or his theories about the origins of the universe.

But today was different.

You sat at the kitchen table, your laptop in front of you, but your fingers hovered over the keys, unmoving. The day had drained you. You had been running on empty, your social battery flickering like a dying candle. It wasn’t anything that happened in particular. Just… people. The noise. The constant interactions. You craved silence in a way that felt almost physical, like you needed to wrap yourself in it to recharge.

Jake must have noticed.

He hadn’t been his usual self all day. His usual stream of conversation had trickled down to cautious comments, half-started stories that faded into silence when you didn’t respond the way you normally would. He gave you space, which was rare for him, but something you appreciated. You knew how much it took for him to quiet himself.

But as the hours passed, the air in the apartment grew heavier. You could feel it between you, like something unsaid, something tense. And you knew what it was. Jake was overthinking. You’d seen it before—he could mask it for a while, but eventually, it showed. The nervous fidgeting, the glances he thought you didn’t notice, the way he tapped his foot against the leg of the couch, an unconscious habit when he was deep in his thoughts.

You sighed, staring at your screen, knowing you should say something, anything, but the words felt stuck. You just needed a little more quiet. A little more time to recharge. But the silence was dragging on, and you knew Jake wouldn’t be able to take it much longer.

Eventually, as the sky outside began to darken and the city lights flickered on, you heard soft footsteps behind you. His approach was hesitant, unlike his usual bounding energy, and it made your chest tighten with guilt. You didn’t turn around, not right away, but you felt him hovering behind you.

“Hey, babe,” he said softly. His voice was gentle, tentative, as if he was afraid to disturb whatever fragile peace you had wrapped around yourself. “Can I, uh… Can I talk to you for a sec?”

You turned in your chair to look at him, and there he was—Jake, with his tousled brown hair that always seemed to be a little wild no matter how many times he ran his fingers through it, and those big, expressive eyes that were always so full of life. Except now, they looked… sad. His brows were knit together in concern, and there was this slight tremble in his bottom lip, like he was trying to keep it together.

“What’s up?” you asked, your voice coming out quieter than you intended.

“I just… I don’t know. Did I… did I do something wrong?” His voice wavered, and your heart clenched. “Like, I don’t know, you’ve been really quiet today, and I was thinking maybe I… I upset you somehow?” He took a step closer, his hand reaching out, hovering over your shoulder like he wasn’t sure if he should touch you. “If I did, I’m really sorry.”

You blinked, caught off guard. He was standing there with that look on his face—the one he always gave you when he thought he messed up, the one that made him look like a kicked puppy. His eyes were wide, his expression so heartbreakingly sincere.

“Jake,” you started, but he interrupted.

“No, seriously, if I said something or if I did something without thinking, I didn’t mean to. I’ve been trying to figure it out all day, but I can’t—” His voice cracked a little, and he looked away, biting his lip. “I just hate it when you’re upset, and I don’t know what I did.”

Your heart broke a little right then. He was always so in tune with your emotions, so careful with them. You reached out, gently grabbing his hand and pulling him closer. “Jake, you didn’t do anything wrong. I promise.”

He looked at you, his brows still furrowed, not entirely convinced. “Then… why? I mean, you’ve barely said anything all day. You’ve been… distant.”

You sighed, squeezing his hand. “It’s not you. It’s just… I’m drained. My social battery is completely dead, and I didn’t know how to say that without making you feel like I was upset or something. But it’s not you, okay? I just… needed some quiet.”

He blinked a few times, his expression softening, but there was still that little crease between his eyebrows. “Oh. Oh.” His shoulders relaxed a bit, and he looked down at your hands intertwined. “You could’ve told me that.”

“I know. I should have,” you said, guilt creeping in. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.”

He shook his head, finally smiling a little. “No, it’s okay. I just… you know how I get.” He laughed softly, though it was a little self-deprecating. “I overthink everything. I just didn’t want to make things worse by being my usual… talky self.”

You chuckled, giving his hand a squeeze. “I love your talky self. I really do. I just… today was a lot, you know?”

“I get it,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Next time, just… tell me. You don’t have to worry about me. If you need space, I can give you space. I’ll just… go babble to the plants or something.”

That made you laugh, and the tension in the room seemed to dissolve. “Babble to the plants, huh?”

“Yeah,” he grinned, a little more of his usual energy returning. “They don’t seem to mind. Plus, they grow better when I talk to them, so win-win.”

You smiled, feeling lighter than you had all day. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Jake leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Just promise me you’ll tell me next time, okay? I’d rather know you’re just tired than sit around thinking I did something terrible.”

“I promise,” you whispered, leaning into his touch.

He smiled, pulling you into a warm embrace, and in that moment, you were reminded of why you loved him so much—his warmth, his patience, his understanding. Even when you were at your most exhausted, he knew how to bring you back.

"Good," he said softly, holding you close. "I love you, you know that?"

"I know," you murmured, resting your head against his chest. "I love you too."

And just like that, everything felt right again.