#take my hand we can be autistic about them together

[tobisaw]

IM BACK HERE AGAIN. YOUR HLVRAI DESIGNS GIVE ME LIFE<3.... (I also love the colors you use, excuse me I'm autistic about designs)

AGHHHH THIS IS SO SWEET THANK YOU… I’m happy so many people like my designs. It seriously means a lot this made my day

[drdemonprince]

I grew up with abstinence-only sex education, and it did a real number on me. But I’ve shaken off enough of my old cultural programming to realize that the transmission of bacteria and viruses is a thing that sometimes just happens when animals come together, no matter how stringently we might try to prevent it.

I have gotten urinary tract infections when a stray microbe found its way into my urethra after sex. Lube and bodily fluids have disturbed my vagina’s pH and caused a yeast infection many times. So has wearing a bathing suit for too long without drying it, yet another “risk” worth the pleasures of swimming along the sea wall.

Once or twice I’ve had an outbreak of cold sores, just like 80% of humans. If I’m like most people, I probably caught oral herpes when I was very young, sharing a sippy cup or rolling around at a sleepover.

None of this makes me disgusting, irresponsible, evil, or dangerous to others. It just makes me a living creature that exists in close contact with other creatures. I believe I have a responsibility to get tested regularly, to alert people who have been close to me when I get sick, and to use preventative measures like condoms, PreP, vaccines, toys, and masks to prevent the spread of infections as best I can. But I never imagine I can lead a life without risk — or that such a life would even be desirable.

There is no such thing as completely “safe” sex. A friend of mine can’t use condoms because they give her bacterial vaginosis. She chooses instead to fuck raw and take PreP and get anything else she catches treated. A guy I know who masks and tests religiously caught COVID while fisting someone (with a gloved hand!) at an air-filtered party. HPV is so prevalent that most sexual wellness clinics don’t bother testing for it, and can’t do much for a patient if they do have it. Our bodies are teeming at all times with various endemic viruses and microbes that we will never have the power to purge.

Then there are the possible costs of not having sex — vaginal atrophy, pelvic floor weakening, reduced access to endorphins, loneliness, touch starvation, the despair of harboring dreams that one never dares try. I can’t decide for anyone else which dangers loom the largest, but for me a gonorrhea shot is a fair trade for the hours of leg-cramping, bed-staining, hypno-kinky sex that led to it. There’s no guarantee that the next time I have sex it will be anywhere near as much fun, but the potential keeps me throwing the dice.

I hear quite frequently from sexually inexperienced Autistic people who crave an intimate connection, but desperately wish to remain responsible and “safe.” They want there to be a set of iron-tight rules they can follow that will guarantee they remain a virtuous person who never hurts anyone’s feelings, and never catches any sexually transmitted infection.

I understand why they want someone to impose order onto an unpredictable, terrifying world. But I can’t give that certainty to them, nor can anyone. All I can suggest is that they be honest with themselves about what they want, inform themselves of the costs and benefits to pursuing their desires, and then venture forward — proudly welcoming the correct risks into their life, rather than trying to avoid any risks at all.

Life is nothing but a negotiation of risk. If a person has gender dysphoria and they want to combat it, they must risk a transition they could one day regret. If an abolitionist wants to take a stand against the police state, they must plan for the possibility of arrest or political repression. When we open our hearts to love, we expose ourselves to grief — our partners will keep changing and growing, sometimes away from us. Each step that we take forward in life closes off potential paths. There is no avoiding this.

Instead of chasing after the false promise of “safety,” trying to remain completely insulated from harm and challenge forever, we must get better at admitting risk into our lives.

I wrote about all about the messy business of risk mitigation, and how the pursuit of perfect safety is used to justify isolation, theft of bodily autonomy, and political repression. It's free to read (or have narrated to you by the app!) at drdevonprice.substack.com

[alexthebordercollie]

Ford's autism

K so I don't think I need to defend the interpretation Ford is on the spectrum. People make jokes about him being autistic all the time. We all see it. What I want to do here is sort of connect together some character details and examine them through the lense of my own autistic experiences.

I wanna start with his hands. It's an observation I've seen from multiple people that Ford is insecure about his hands and often hides them behind his back or in his pockets. And yeah, he is obviously insecure about them. He even mentions his six fingers at times when they aren't really relevant to anything. It just showcases the space this physical deviation of his takes up in his mind. And yes, it makes sense that he's insecure about them because he was bullied for them growing up. I want to add to this observation.

Ford would have been bullied regardless.

The problem was never really his hands. When you're on the spectrum people around you can tell that you're weird. Uncanny. Something is different and feels wrong about you to NT people, especially kids. They will pick any shallow superficial thing they can find as an excuse to bully you and justify the sense of revulsion they feel around you but can't articulate. If Ford had been born with normal hands they just would have made fun of him for something else, it would have been his glasses, or the movies he liked, or hell maybe some good old-fashioned antisemitism. Literally, any excuse they could find.

I know growing up I tried for years to change the things about me that I was made fun of for and it never made things any better. The bullying never stopped. "Fixing" things about myself didn't work because the thing that was actually "broken" was something fundamental to who I am. That realization as a kid was soul-crushing. That there was nothing I could do that would ever make me "normal", that would ever make people like me. I felt like an alien born on the wrong planet.

Ford continues to latch onto his hands as a sore spot because they're something simple and obvious he can point to as an excuse for why he's so outcast. He probably knows by this point that the hands aren't actually the problem. I'd argue this journal entry and his comment about "another failed social interaction" shows that he's aware his hands aren't actually the problem. But, it is a lot easier to fixate on those than to dwell directly on that sinking feeling that at the core of you're being you are fundamentally weird, wrong, unlovable. Ford's a genius. If his polydactyly bothered him that much he could have removed the extra digits. The hands aren't the problem, they're a symbol of a more fundamental kind of pain.

Looking at it through this context also makes the gloves Fiddleford gives him an extra sweet gift given what they represent. A kind of wholehearted acceptance of who Ford is and even a willingness to adapt to his unique needs just to show him love and affection. I think something that hurts me so much about their relationship is that Ford had someone who very clearly loved him as is and would have never wanted him to be someone or something else, and Ford was too stubborn to fully appreciate that.

The same is true of Stanely by the by. He never had a problem with his brother being weird. Another relationship with someone who loved Ford as is but who Ford took for granted. He needs these kinds of relationships in his life. People who embrace and accept him for the weirdo he is. He needs them desperately, which gets me to my next point.

Ford's ego. So it's also a common observation that Ford has a massive ego. He's kind of an ass, to put it mildly. But I have had someone in conversation frame it like the pressure to prove themselves was just on Stanley and Ford just spent his whole life being hyped up and told he was hot shit. This isn't true, or at least it's a flattening of his experiences.

Ford was praised for his genius. This is true. But his own father only gave a shit when said genius showed signs of netting material gains for the family. It only mattered cause Ford could be useful. Furthermore, this genius never netted him social acceptance from his peers growing up. He was still a bullied, weirdo, loser most of his childhood. Add that seeing Stanley kicked out would have drilled into Ford's head that if he couldn't make something out of himself his family wouldn't want him either. Stan was an unspoken threat of what this family does to failures.

Gonna bring up my own personal experiences again. Having set the stage for how it feels growing up on the spectrum. That feeling of alienness that you can't really explain. I loved to write and draw from a very young age. Moreover, as I got older I realized that when I drew, people were nice to me. The only time I got social acceptance was when people were admiring or praising me for my art. So I did it more and more, I devoted myself feverishly to my art. I loved it anyway and would have hyper-fixated on it regardless but the positive reinforcement turned art from something I loved to a need. I NEEDED to be an artist. I needed to be the best at my school. I needed all eyes on my work because it was the only way I could make friends. The only way I could prove that I had value. That I deserved a place in society.

I see that in Ford. I see his ego not as shallow narcissism but as an overwhelming need to prove his value as a person. To be loved and accepted and believing that no one will want him if he isn't brilliant. If he doesn't change the world. If he isn't useful. This is also why he couldn't bring himself to destroy his research even knowing it was the safest and most responsible option. Burning down everything he worked for would mean finally giving up on the fantasy of ever being accepted or valuable.

The sad thing is he's so single-mindedly fixated on this personal goal of proving his worth to the world that when people do come along that love him unconditionally he takes them for granted. These people are statistical anomalies in his life. Nice to have around, but not enough to fix the bigger problem. They aren't reflective of society at large. They aren't enough to prove that he, personally, is loveable. Just that on occasion he meets another weirdo. For a while it's nice. Like a campfire in a barren tundra. But he has to keep moving, he can't stay. Warmer lands are ahead if he can just get to them. If he can just keep moving.

This also is why Ford was so susceptible to Bill. Bill told Ford what he wanted to hear. That he was destined for greatness. That, the fundamental wrongness he felt all his life was something incredible other people just couldn't see. Bill promised Ford exactly what he wanted, but not what he actually needed. Ford never needed the world at large to accept him. He just needed a few good people.

I also think his chemistry with Bill was connected to his autistic experiences as well. Bill is literally an alien. There's no pressure to mask around him. To try and "act normal". Ford can just be himself with Bill and not have to think about it. And sure, he could be himself around Fiddleford, but Fidds is still human. The anxieties of human social expectations are still present. Like when Fidds get him a gift for the holidays and Ford feels a bit guilty that it didn't even occur to him to do the same. He doesn't have to think about these social nuances with Bill.

That said I'm sure Bill isn't what his world would have considered neurotypical anyway. Not that Ford would know that. But Bill was also a strange freak in his own society. Just as outcast, possibly more so. I think Bill sees a bit of his own experiences reflected in Ford. I think he relates to him on a level. Not that he would ever admit it outright due to his own ego. I think Bill's fixation on him after the breakup also stems from Ford rejecting the path that Bill chose for himself. Bill still lives with some sort of deeply repressed guilt for what he did. Imagine how validating it would have been to see someone else like him burn their own world to the ground for the same reasons Bill did. But no, Ford's a better man than him, and Bill can't stand it.

Ok, I don't know how to end this long-ass monologue so I'm gonna call it here I guess. I just wanted to spill some thoughts of mine about Ford as a character. If anyone else wants to add to this with other examinations of Ford's character through this lense go right ahead. I'm just saying as an autistic person myself I understand every choice Ford made. I could relate to why he did the things he did even if I know those were mistakes and even acknowledging that he's kind of an asshole. Ford is a strange man who makes an eerie amount of sense to me.

[megalony]

Flight Plan

This is my newest Evan x reader x Eddie fic which includes Autistic! reader. I hope you will all like this little holiday fic, let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17 @zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Evan Buckley Masterlist

Summary: Evan, (Y/n) and Eddie are taking Chris on holiday for the first time together. And it takes a bit of love and comfort to get them all through customs and safely on the plane. (Autistic! reader)

Enjoy.

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"Thanks for the ride." Leaning forward against the front seats, Evan gave Hen's shoulder a tight squeeze and gave her an awkward hug between the seats. She couldn't get out and see them off, she was in the drop-off zone.

"No problem, don't forget to call us when you get there."

"Will do. Don't burn down the station while we're away, yeah?" Evan clambered out the car before she could smack him for that last comment.

A grin spread across his lips and he climbed out, stretching his arms high above his head so he could click his neck and spine into place. It felt good to be up and moving about after nearly half an hour in the car. He grabbed his backpack from the back seat and slid it on his shoulders before he turned to face his little family.

The four of them turned and waved as Hen pulled away and started her drive back home. She had been gracious enough to drop them at the airport so they didn't have to book a taxi. Neither Eddie or Evan wanted to drive and park their car here for two weeks.

"Are we ready?"

Evan held out Chris's dinosaur bag and helped him slip it onto his shoulders, before he turned to look over at (Y/n) and Eddie.

She had her hands wrapped around Eddie's bicep and she was pushing up on her toes so she could perch her chin on his shoulder. She gave his arm a little shake and pressed her lips to his neck before she moved to hover her lips over his ear.

"Can I have my meds now?"

Her eyes followed Eddie as he shook his wrist to look down at his watch with pursed lips that made his nose scrunch up.

"Not yet, mi amor." He kissed her temple even as she groaned into his neck and started to fidget.

"Please… they need time to work, I don't wanna be awake on the plane."

"Baby if you have them now and you get drowsy during check-in they'll think we've drugged you. They won't let me carry you on that plane, you know."

Eddie knew she was nervous. He knew (Y/n) wanted the new sleeping medication the doctors had given her for the flight. The meds were supposed to relax (Y/n) and make her fall asleep on the plane so she wouldn't sit and panic or have a meltdown. But they would take time to kick in. (Y/n) was nervous that if she didn't take them now, she would have to take them on the plane and wait a few hours for them to kick in.

She wanted to feel drowsy the moment they got on the plane and fall asleep around take off so she didn't have to deal with the flight.

But Eddie couldn't let her take the meds now. She had never taken them before and if they worked a little too well, they would be in trouble. Security would be worried if (Y/n) started to get drowsy or she fell asleep before they got on the plane. And they might think Eddie or Evan had drugged her or were trying to hurt her. She had to be alert until they got on the plane, whether that made her nervous or not. It killed Eddie, but she couldn't have her meds yet.

"Okay, come here buddy." Evan reached out and picked Chris up so he could sit Chris down on his suitcase that was jet black with light green and aqua blue game controllers painted around it.

Evan made sure the handle bar was up and it was wedged between Chris's back and his bag so if Chris tried to jump off suddenly, the suitcase would move and topple with him.

It would be much easier for him to sit on the case and for Evan to push it rather than risk people pushing into them. It let Chris rest too because they would be doing a lot of moving around before they got on the plane.

"Spin round, baby." Eddie murmured against (Y/n)'s ear and waited patiently until she unhooked herself from his arm and turned to the side.

He delved into her backpack and found the familiar green lanyard dotted with bright yellow sunflowers. Once he hooked it around his wrist, he noticed Evan grin and look in Chris's backpack for the matching lanyard.

Eddie slipped it around (Y/n)'s neck and kissed the junction just behind her ear which made her shiver. Neither he or Evan wanted anyone to start being rude or judgemental if (Y/n) had a meltdown or screamed or got overwhelmed. At least if she and Chris wore their lanyards, people would read that they were both autistic.

People could move out their way and know not to approach and ask if they were okay or if they needed help.

Evan had almost had a fit when one lady saw (Y/n) have a meltdown in public and she had the nerve to ask (Y/n) if the boys were trying to hurt her.

"You want these?" Eddie held out the small grey box that contained (Y/n)'s earphones. While Chris had noise-cancelling headphones in a bright shade of blue, (Y/n) had small grey earphones that looked like cordless music earphones. She didn't like the large headphones and if she wore these, no one noticed or stared.

And they didn't make her ears hurt like the headphones did. They felt comfortable and she could still hear people talking to her, it just sounded very soft and faraway.

(Y/n) nodded with a small smile and took the earphones, slipping them in her ears before she looked up at the doors in front of them.

She wanted to go on holiday.

She had never been away with the boys on holiday before. She hadn't been on holiday in a few years. It would be amazing to go away with her boys and spend time with them without either of them having to go on shift and leave (Y/n) worrying if they were okay or if they were going to get hurt. And they could all spend time with Chris together.

(Y/n) had been prepping herself for months to come on holiday, to be away from home where she felt safe. To be in a new environment, a new bed. With different smells and food and temperatures and new surroundings and no familiar places were she could go to if she felt uncomfortable.

It was just annoying that (Y/n) couldn't fast-forward through all the pain and panic of getting through customs, getting on the plane and through the long seven hour flight.

"Okay, off we go."

Reaching behind her, (Y/n) grabbed her suitcase in her left hand and curled her right hand back around Eddie's arm. She held him in a death grip, pressed her head onto his bicep and glued up against him as they started to walk. She felt better when Evan walked on her left side with his suitcase trailing behind him while he pushed Chris on his own suitcase in front of him.

When she looked at how busy it was, (Y/n) felt a shudder run down her spine and she adverted her eyes down to the floor.

Her thumbs moved to press against the knuckles of her index fingers and she bent her left wrist at a different angle to keep hold of her suitcase. The stim and the odd angle made her hand burn, but the sensation was somewhat familiar and it felt good. While her other fingers pierced into Eddie's arm.

She closed her eyes and tried to take deep breaths, letting Eddie steer her in the right direction.

Evan smiled when a quiet hum vibrated against (Y/n)'s lips and he turned to the right, looking down at her with a fondness burning in his eyes. His lips parted but he only smiled when (Y/n) leaned forward as they walked and every now and then, she tilted her head into Eddie's arm or clicked her tongue.

Those were all normal stims. She wasn't getting too overwhelmed, yet.

When they reached the queue for the baggage drop off, they got in line and Eddie turned his back towards Evan. "Grab the passports, would you?"

With Evan being a mix between disorganised and his own little organised chaos, he couldn't be in charge of tickets or passports or anything vital. He would put them somewhere safe and forget about them or lose them or have a fluster about them. (Y/n) was much the same, her autism kept her in strict routines and made her overly anxious about keeping things safe, whereas her ADHD made her lax about remembering to bring them or where she put them.

Eddie was the one out of the three of them with the least amount of panic and the most organisation skills. So he took control of booking the holiday, looking after the passports, tickets, flight information and his and Chris's wallets.

Although he didn't feel great about Evan being in control of his own wallet with the amount of times Evan seemed to lose it.

Evan dug all four passports out and handed them out between them as they all slowly shuffled along in line.

It didn't take long for them to get to the front and Eddie plastered a smile on his face as he put his bag on the scales and handed over his passport. He moved so Evan could do the same before Evan turned to (Y/n) and gently nudged her with his elbow.

"Baby, your bag."

(Y/n) shuffled forward and put her bag on the scale, shaking her hands at her sides while she waited to be handed back her passport and get her flight ticket. She handed her passport straight back to Eddie while Evan scooped Chris up off the suitcase.

"I don't think you class as baggage." He mumbled, keeping hold of Chris's hand while he handed over his bag.

He felt (Y/n) glue up against his back and when her hands found his hips, Evan smiled softly to himself. Although they both flinched when the woman practically threw all the cases onto the conveyer belt behind her. It was a good job they were going on holiday and not coming back. Any souvenirs they collected would have been broken by now.

(Y/n) refrained from rolling her eyes at the woman's callous nature and how she didn't seem to care she was throwing their personal belongings around like they were pillows or toys to be discarded.

"I had a box of cookies once that came back as crumbs." She murmured to herself, not realising how loud she spoke until she felt Evan belt out a laugh and look over his shoulder at her.

"Toy Story two, right?"

He got that reference quick.

Both boys were used to (Y/n) coming out with random phrases and one-liners that she had heard from movies and tv shows. Sometimes it was as a joke, sometimes she said them because they matched the situation and that was her way of starting a conversation or joining in.

But other times it was just (Y/n) doing echolalia. She couldn't help repeating things she had heard, mainly because of the way someone had spoke or the tone or accent they used. Whereas Chris had echolalia too but started up at night when he couldn't sleep or when he was over-excited.

"Where now?" Chris tugged on Evan's hand and grinned up at him. He hadn't been able to sleep last night, he was so excited to go away on holiday.

He shifted round so he was stood between Evan and (Y/n) and he held one of their hands each and swayed back and forth between them. It was enough to make (Y/n) smile and feel a bit calmer. She felt a little uneasy now she wasn't carrying her suitcase, it was almost as if she had forgotten something or left something behind.

But she felt better with Chris holding her hand and stealing her attention, taking her mind off her panic. And Eddie was gripping her right hand like it was his lifeline.

"Through customs, round that corner and up some stairs I think."

This was the part none of them liked.

All the hassle and faffing about just to prove they weren't trying to sneak anything illegal into the plane or taking a bomb on board with them. They knew it was necessary, but it was still a hassle, especially with how overwhelming it was.

The four of them climbed the stairs, making sure to go slow and stick together to keep out the way of everyone else. It was busier than they had hoped for. But then again, in a perfect situation, the airport would be empty and they could get through this all alone with no one else nearby.

"Let's go in this queue, it doesn't seem too long." Eddie held out his hands for Chris and held onto Chris's shoulders, moving the ten year old in front of him.

They stood single file together and Eddie smiled softly when he felt (Y/n)'s fingers tracing over his back. He wasn't sure what she was writing on his skin, but whatever it was felt very soft and lulling. Eddie always told (Y/n) she could stim or mess around on him, he had a thing for her tracing his tattoos and drawing with her finger like this because the sensation was something he enjoyed.

"Okay baby?" Evan leaned forward and looped his arms loosely around (Y/n)'s neck and kissed the side of her head.

He stooped over so his cheek was leant on the side of her temple and his chest pressed down into his shoulders. He didn't care if anyone stared, he knew attaching himself to (Y/n) like this would make her feel calmer. And he knew it was working when (Y/n) moved her free hand to grip his arm.

When they got close enough, Eddie shrugged off his backpack and put it in a plastic tub. He handed a tub to Chris and put them on the conveyer belt.

"Alright bud, anything electronic, take it out your bag and put it in a separate tub. Glasses and shoes off too, please."

Eddie stripped his own bag of his phone and charger, that was the only electronics he had. And he watched Chris take out his music and his noise-cancelling headphones, his phone and his Nintendo.

The ten year old did not look impressed to have to take off his glasses and his shoes, but when he looked over his shoulder, he realised Eddie wasn't exactly happy either. He watched his dad kick off his shoes and toss them in the box, and he smiled when Eddie whipped his belt through his trouser loops and tossed it in as well.

"Here we go." Evan murmured as he sorted out his bag into a plastic tub and watched (Y/n) do the same. Just as he removed his shoes and went to take his belt off, he paused when (Y/n) tapped his arm. She pointed to her ears. "No baby, they're plastic. You're fine."

Her earphones were completely plastic, she could keep them in as long as she liked, they wouldn't flag up when they went through the metal scanner.

Both Evan's hands moved to hold (Y/n)'s shoulders and he kissed the back of her head when they slowly followed after Eddie. Both of them leaned to the left and looked around Eddie when Chris suddenly squealed, but they could tell immediately it was a happy sound.

He'd gone through the metal scanner.

He clapped his hands and nodded his head while he walked through and turned to the side to wait for Eddie to go through.

(Y/n) shuffled forward, feeling very awkward in her socks against the laminate floor. She felt like a penguin on ice, about to slip and fall on her behind. But just as Eddie walked through the scanner, the one on their left in the next queue came to life.

Red lights beamed from every angle of the rectangle scanner that resembled a doorway and a high pitch whirring sound rung through the air. Someone walked through with something metal still on their person.

A scream tore through (Y/n)'s lips and she dropped down to her knees, reaching her hands up to dig her nails into Evan's wrists to make sure he didn't let go of her. Her eyes snapped closed and she pressed her chin down into her chest as she began to sway back and forth.

"Baby, baby it's okay." Evan crouched down behind her with his knees pressing comfortably into her hips, keeping her pinned between his legs. He smoothed his hands up and down her arms and pressed his lips to the side of her head to try and calm her down. The lights had already stopped flashing and the high-pitch alarm had been turned off. As long as no one else walked through with any metal, they would be alright.

His eyes darted up and he nodded at Eddie to carry on, (Y/n) would get up in a second. And he could see Eddie and Chris were re-packing his and (Y/n)'s bags so they didn't have to do it when they walked through.

"Excuse me, what is she doing?"

Evan sucked in a deep breath and glanced over his shoulder at the man behind him who was standing far too close and leering over his shoulder. What did he think she was doing? Praying for strength to get through the scanner? It was pretty clear to everyone else that the scanner had panicked her. Even the security guard wasn't saying or doing anything.

Both guards on either scanner just nodded at Evan with a smile and Evan figured they had either seen (Y/n)'s lanyard or Eddie had said something. They weren't forcing them to move, they knew (Y/n) would get up in a second when she was ready.

"If you can't wait one minute then go round us." He didn't bother to look behind him.

He didn't care whether the people behind them overtook them and went ahead through the scanner or not. If they were too rude and impatient to wait for a minute or two for someone with a disability then Evan couldn't be bothered to speak to them.

"Out. Out."

"Yeah, let's go then baby." Evan pecked her temple again when she let go of his wrist to point ahead. He moved his hands from her arms down to hold her hips and he gently pulled her up to her feet.

He didn't want to let go of (Y/n) but he had to so she could walk through the scanner first. He watched her carefully as she pinned her arms around her waist and started to nod her head back and forth as she hurried through the scanner. As soon as she was through, she barrelled into Eddie with her head on his shoulder and her arms bound around his torso.

"Alright, mi amor. All done." Eddie smiled softly and pecked her temple with his hand cupping the back of her neck.

Evan pinned his belt back through his trousers and shrugged his feet back into his shoes. He grabbed his bag and reached out for Chris's hand so the four of them could walk through and find their way to the right waiting bay.

As soon as they were in the right waiting bay, Eddie guided them over towards a row of seats near the window. It was somewhere out the way where they didn't have to sit too close to strangers and Chris could bide his time staring out the window and watching the planes take off and line up at the doors.

Both (Y/n) and Eddie sat down while Evan started to rummage through his bag, making sure everything was still there. And Chris knelt up on his seat and stared out the window with glee.

(Y/n) glanced over her shoulder and tried to smile at Chris. He looked very happy, in his element, watching the planes slowly turn around and line up with the correct gates. But watching the planes move only made (Y/n) feel uneasy. She didn't like them. She didn't want to go on a plane. They were cramped, there were too many strangers on board. There were uncertain possibilities.

It didn't feel safer being in a plane. Even though statistically speaking, planes were safer than cars, it did not feel that way and (Y/n) felt safer in a car. She had Eddie or Evan driving for a start, that was a sense of control no one had on the plane. They didn't know or trust the pilots.

Eddie leaned back in his seat and his lips curved into a sympathetic smile when (Y/n) dropped down to her knees in front of him.

Without saying anything, Eddie spread his knees apart to let (Y/n) wedge herself between his thighs. He liked the feeling of her fingers gliding up and down the back of his leg as she wrapped her right arm around his leg. Her cheek rested on his thigh and he moved his hands to her shoulders, squeezing gently as (Y/n) started to rock back and forth between his thighs.

He didn't care that a few people were now looking in his direction. If (Y/n) felt safer sitting on the floor like this and and wanted comfort, Eddie was more than happy to help her.

"Okay?" Eddie glanced over to the right and looked up at Evan.

He hadn't sat down yet. He was stood tall like an omen with his shoulders squared and his arms tense as he looked at the tickets pinned in each of their passports.

"I will be in a minute."

Eddie's eyes narrowed and he leaned over, unsure what Evan was referring to when he started pointing at the tickets. But then it dawned on him. The seat numbers didn't add up. None of them were sitting together.

Before Eddie could say anything, Evan swung his bag on his shoulder, clenched all the passports tightly in his hand and stormed over to the desk near the departure gate.

"Can I help you?"

A calm but somewhat tense smile flooded Evan's face and he folded his arms on the desk he was leaning over. He laid out the tickets for the lady to see and tried to hold his breath for a moment to stay calm. This wasn't her fault. She hadn't set this up, but she needed to rectify this.

There was no way in Hell (Y/n) would get on that plane if she was going to be sat next to strangers. Evan wouldn't cope well either sat next to someone he didn't know; he would end up babbling to them. And he wouldn't sit and worry about (Y/n) having a meltdown.

And they couldn't expect Chris to sit next to strangers and be parted from his family. At least one of them needed to be next to Chris.

"Hi, we're a family of four on this flight and none of us are sitting together. Can you change the seats please?"

"Oh… if you didn't choose your seats beforehand, the system just finds you any seat on the plane so we can get as many people on board-"

"Okay, I get that some people don't care where or who they sit with, but you need to check your notes. Two of the people in our group are autistic, if you sit my partner with strangers she will have a meltdown and that flight will not take off. And you can't seriously expect a ten year old to be calm and happy to sit alone, without a parent on a seven hour flight. Fix it please."

Evan wasn't here for a lecture.

He didn't care if everyone else thought it was normal for a flight to split families apart like this. Evan could understand if they were split so two were sitting together and another two were somewhere else on the plane. But doing this mismatched system practically split everyone up on the plane and no one booked a flight in order to sit with strangers and make friends.

And Evan and Eddie had booked this holiday. They made notes on their booking confirmations for everything that (Y/n) had autism and so did Chris. He was ten, they couldn't think it was normal to sit a ten year old with strangers on a long flight. What child would be happy with that?

This needed fixing or none of them were getting on that plane.

***

A soft grin spread across Evan's face the moment he lifted up the armrest that was pinned between his and (Y/n)'s seats. As soon as he flipped it up, he lifted his left arm when (Y/n) wriggled closer.

The seating arrangement had worked out rather well. After Evan had a slight argument with the receptionist, she changed the seats so Eddie and Chris were together, and (Y/n) and Evan were seated next to each other. It had worked out a lot better because their seats were all next to each other. There was just a two foot aisle separating Evan and Eddie's seats.

There were three sections of seats, all with three seats in each row.

And (Y/n) and Evan were the only ones in their little row meaning they had a spare seat next to them. (Y/n) didn't want to sit next to the window, she didn't want to see take off. If someone had been in the window seat, Evan would have sat in the middle so (Y/n) wasn't sitting next to a stranger. But since it was empty, it meant she could sit in the middle and feel safer.

She felt safe penned in the middle with room on her left and Evan on her right. And Evan could stretch his legs out in the aisle because he was too tall for the seats and his knees bumped into the chair in front.

"You okay?" He whispered softly against the top of (Y/n)'s head, rubbing his hand up and down her arm while he rested his head on his right hand.

"Hm." (Y/n) closed her eyes and nuzzled her face into Evan's chest. She had her right arm pinned around her chest and her left arm was wrapped around Evan's waist so she could glue herself as close to him as she could manage. It felt better to be sat in the middle seat because no one could see her.

No one could stare or whisper or roll their eyes when they saw her stimming or murmuring or watching Evan comfort her.

She was starting to feel a little drowsy, which was a good sign. Eddie had helped her take her meds as soon as they got in the waiting area. Now they should be taking effect and (Y/n) could hopefully fall asleep soon and this flight would pass her by quickly.

Evan looked to the right and his lips curved into a smirk behind his hand when he looked at his partner.

Eddie was sat on the end seat on the aisle which was so small the boys were both touching. He had Chris next to him in the middle seat and an elderly woman on the end next to Chris.

Eddie had both hands gripping the armrests and he was sat straight in his chair like he was made of wood. But it was the look of panic on his face that made Evan smile. Eddie was all smooth sailing and calm as ever until the plane was about to take off. Now his nerves were rattling him and making him feel almost as uneasy as (Y/n). Eddie didn't like take off, he felt okay once they were in the air.

"Oh Dios."

"You called?" Evan spoke quietly and looked across at Eddie who frowned and cracked one eye open to look over at him.

"What? You're God now, are you?" He hadn't realised he murmured that loud enough for Evan to hear. Eddie wasn't one to pray, no matter how devout his family had brought him up. But when he panicked, he always found himself muttering things to or about God, whether it was cursing or praying for a smooth flight like this.

"I am in the bedroom. Isn't that what you kept calling me-"

"Buck." Reaching across the aisle, Eddie slapped his hand against Evan's shoulder and gave him a certain look before he went back to gripping the arm rests again. He wasn't having that conversation now when everyone could hear them and more to the point, Chris might hear them.

He was happily stimming and waiting for take off, but he could still be listening in to his surroundings.

Evan pushed up straight in his seat, keeping one arm around (Y/n) who was quietly humming into his chest. While he reached his right hand out and held Eddie's wrist when the plane started to move.

He looked out the window for a few seconds. Evan rather liked watching the take off and landing. It always made him feel a rush of adrenaline when the runway disappeared and they could see the trees turn into clouds. And when the plane tilted from side to side it made Evan feel like he was on a rollercoaster.

He looked back towards the boys when he heard Chris begin to clap and a quiet but nevertheless excited squeal passed his lips. He was pushing back and forth in his seat and he kept sneaking glances out the window beside (Y/n).

Evan thought for a moment that Eddie was about to shake his touch off his wrist. But instead, Eddie slipped his wrist from Evan's grasp and moved to grip his hand tightly instead. He now had his eyes open but he was looking at Chris rather than staring out the window or looking at the seat in front of him.

Seeing Chris look so excited and happy made Eddie feel a little calmer.

He pulled Evan's hand close to his chest and held his breath when the plane rattled through some turbulence as they continued to ascend.

When (Y/n) sat forward and pulled off of Evan's chest, he removed his arm from her shoulders and switched to gently squeeze her thigh instead.

He observed the way she stayed hunched forward with her eyes closed and both her hands were stimming. Her thumbs were bent back and her index fingers were curled down into her palms. She was shaking her hands on her lap, but she didn't pull away from Evan's touch.

He figured it was better to leave her be for now, he stayed silent, one hand on each partner while he listened to the quiet murmurs of the other passengers. And Chris's excited squeals every now and then. He tilted his head back into the headrest and started humming quietly. He couldn't wait for the seatbelt sign to go off. He wanted the tension to ease and he could see whether (Y/n) wanted to read a book or if she wanted to watch a movie or listen to some music.

Evan wanted to look through the music and see what he could listen to. He already knew Chris would soon ask for his Nintendo out of his bag and Eddie would likely watch a movie.

A jolt surged through Eddie and he snapped his head to the left when he heard a loud thud and the sound of metal creaking.

His eyes widened and he gripped Evan's hand tightly when he realised it was (Y/n). She slammed herself back in her seat, causing it to push back and creak as her body surged forward from the force. He hoped for a few seconds that she was trying to stim, but when she screamed, Eddie winced and let go of Evan's hand.

She was getting upset.

Another quiet but shrill screech left her lips and she slammed herself back in her seat, more forcefully this time which made Evan jolt beside her.

"Baby, don't do that please, you'll hurt yourself. Sit forward." When she slammed back for a third time, Evan pressed his palm flat against her back between her shoulders. He leaned over her and pressed his lips against the back of her head, pressing her forward so she couldn't try and slam back again.

He didn't want her to hurt herself or for the chair to tilt back and have (Y/n) jolt back further than she expected. It wouldn't be a nice surprise for the people behind them if (Y/n)'s chair reclined and she slammed back against it.

"What's up, hm? What's wrong?" Evan spoke quietly against her temple and curved his arm around her back so he could rub his hand up and down her arm. He held his other hand out in front of her and was relieved when she clenched her fingers around his palm and started shaking it up and down to stim.

Eddie clicked his spine into place and managed a smile when Chris leaned on his arm and started humming. And when he glanced down the aisle, Eddie held his hand out towards the stewardess who was about to walk over. He shook his head with a smile, mumbling "We're fine," to which she nodded.

The flight attendants had all been lovely, indulging in Chris's hundred and one questions to which Evan kept adding in more questions too. And they had been more than understanding when they explained (Y/n) had autism and if she had a meltdown, she would be okay and they just needed to leave her be and let the boys look after her.

A deep breath sucked into Evan's lungs and he bit down on his lip when he leaned over to look down at (Y/n).

She had her eyes screwed shut, she was shaking his hand very, very harshly, but it was her stimming that concerned him. She was moving her jaw from side to side and opening her mouth wide like she needed her jaw to click. She wasn't making any noise or screaming or even clicking her tongue, she just kept moving her jaw in a wide circle and shook her head every other second.

"Is it your ears?"

When she gripped his hand tighter and pulled it into her chest, Evan knew he was right.

Her ears had popped and she didn't like the sensation.

"Okay, baby… stop trying to click your jaw, that won't help. Take a deep breath, really big, breathe through your mouth. You need the same pressure in your mouth as your ears so they level out."

Evan knew everyone's ears popped when the air pressure changed and if she didn't have enough air or the right pressure in her mouth, it would mess with the connecting tubes from her ears that went to her mouth. Popping her ears back to normal was something (Y/n) was going to have to keep doing for the duration of their flight and Evan knew she hated the sensation.

He watched her try and take long breaths that ended in panting when it didn't seem to work. Her eyes stayed screwed closed and she doubled over until her head was almost pressing into her knees.

She shook her hand free from his grip but Evan reacted quicker. He knew what she was going to do.

"No, no don't do that. Thank you." He confiscated both her hands and pinned them into his chest so she couldn't hit the chair in front. She would only hurt herself and Evan wouldn't let her do that. She could scratch or hit him if she wanted, it wouldn't hurt him and it would stop her from splitting her knuckles like he had seen her do before.

He felt her take a deep breath and she froze when he leaned over her and hooked an arm beneath her legs.

(Y/n) had no idea what he was doing and her attention shifted from her ears to focus on Evan when he lifted her legs and steered them towards the spare seat next to her. She let him lay her legs on the chair and she felt her heart flutter in her chest when Evan laid her on his lap. He kept hold of her hands and started to glide his other hand up and down her arm.

"Do you have her earbuds?"

"Yeah," Eddie rummaged around in his pocket for the noise-cancelling earbuds (Y/n) had taken out just before they got on the plane.

He handed them over to Evan who carefully helped put them in (Y/n)'s ears. Wearing them would soften the noises on the plane and it might just make (Y/n) forget about her ears popping.

As soon as the seatbelt sign flashed off, Evan unclipped both their belts so (Y/n) could wriggle around and get comfy. He began carding his fingers through her hair while he held his right arm out on his knees in front of (Y/n)'s eyesight. He knew she couldn't resist. A few seconds later, she had one hand gripping his wrist and the other hand was tracing one of his tattoos like she was drawing over it and colouring it in.

"There we go, good girl."

With any luck, (Y/n)'s tablets would kick in soon, the boys could both see she had felt drowsy when they got on the plane. If she started to fall asleep, the flight would be much easier for her and she wouldn't feel so panicked. Then when they landed, they would start their holiday.

[hgfictionwriter]

TLC

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Reader finds themselves in a very overwhelming situation and Jessie is there to care for her and protect her as best she can.

Warning: Mention of sensory overload, but that's about it.

A/N: Based on this request. I went non-smut for it and went fluff and comfort instead. Full disclosure, though I'm neurodivergent, I'm not autistic - so I wrote this based off my own experiences and those of friends who are autistic. I mean no disrespect if I've misrepresented in some way.

Jessie smiled as you talked excitedly about the museum you'd both just visited. Jessie had a rare break between club and national team obligations and you were on vacation together - something you'd been planning for months.

You both stood, swaying gently back and forth with the movement of the subway train and you both looked over as the next stop was announced. Jessie swallowed subconsciously as the platform came into view and she saw the hordes of people clamoring at the edge waiting to get on. Her head snapped back to you as soon as she felt your hand come up to her arm and grip her. It only took a moment to see the apprehension on your face.

"Hold onto me," Jessie told you softly, leaning in and imploring you to meet her gaze.

A thought struck Jessie as the door dinged open and she scrambled to reach into your backpack, making sure to keep her feet planted to avoid being moved. She smiled triumphantly a moment later as she held up your headphones and began placing them over your ears.

"It's going to be really loud in here," she told you and you nodded your thanks. You watched out of the corner of your eye as people streamed in, pushing each other out of the way to secure a spot in the car. You shuffled in closer to Jessie who stood as tall as she could and pushed herself back against anyone who was trying to move in.

Even with Jessie's efforts, by the time the doors closed - needing a few attempts as people were still struggling to get inside - the train car was packed. People were shoulder to shoulder and back to back.

Bodies jostled into one another as the train started to move again and your grip tightened on Jessie's arms. She tightened the arm she had wrapped protectively around your waist, her other hand grasping the grab handle above her to hold you both steady.

Jessie watched carefully as your gaze darted back and forth, taking in all of the people around you. She saw your shoulders tense further, inching up towards your ears. She gave you a small squeeze and tilted her head to catch your eye.

"Close your eyes. Or, eyes on me," she mouthed. She smiled reassuringly at you. "I've got you."

Jessie relaxed a touch when you kept your eyes trained on her before eventually closing them and cuddling into her further. She leaned in and kissed your forehead.

She glanced up at her watch, it shouldn't have been this busy right now, but maybe there was an event of some kind that had gotten out. She sighed and looked over her shoulder at the map. Three more stops.

As the train began to slow again, Jessie turned her head back to you to find you watching her. She smiled and leaned in, speaking louder so you could hear. "Do you want to get off here? We can wait for a bit or find another way."

You shook your head. "I'll be fine." And you meant it. It wasn't good - but you were managing and Jessie was being an incredible support as she always was.

Jessie studied you for a few moments, looking for any signs that she should refute your response, but eventually nodded her acceptance.

She watched over her shoulder, waiting and hoping that people would leave and give you more space, but unfortunately even though a few people got off, it seemed like just as many got back on. Again, she planted her feet and scrupulously watched everyone navigating around you, working to box them out as best she could.

The remaining legs of the ride were painfully slow, but with Jessie's help you were managing. You tucked your head against her at one point and Jessie rest her cheek against you, now and then tilting to kiss the side of your head.

The train began to slow again and Jessie pulled back a bit, inviting you to look at her.

"Our stop," she mouthed with a gesture of her head to the doors. "Hold onto me tight."

When the train shook to a stop and the doors opened, Jessie gave you a quick once over and grabbed your hand; you gripped her tightly.

Jessie frowned as she began to make her way through, very firm in making a path for you and glancing back often to make sure no one was pushing you.

When she stepped out onto the platform she immediately stepped to the side, making sure to not let go of your hand, but now bringing up her other hand to brace your back and guide you off.

She walked you both to an empty part of the platform and turned back to face you. She gently grasped your arms. Even though you were okay with her touching you - one of the very few people who was - she was mindful that you were likely very overstimulated and didn't want to make it worse. She watched you tenderly, letting you readjust and respond when you were ready.

Although some effects were lingering, you felt worlds better already. You steadied your breath for a bit and eventually let yourself fall into Jessie's waiting arms. She held you close, her embrace warm and steady and so very comforting.

When you were ready, you stood back and took off your headphones, tucking them away.

"How are you doing?" She asked, searching your face for answers. "What can I do to help?"

"I'm doing better already. I just needed a moment. I want to get out of here, though."

"Yeah, we should get some fresh air," Jessie agreed. "Are you ready to go?" You nodded readily. "Okay, then. Let's go."

She took your hand once again and led the way through the station, making sure to give any crowds a wide berth. When you approached the escalator she stepped to the side and held out her arm ushering you to step on first. She got on behind you and served as a buffer to keep from anyone getting on too close.

You breathed a sigh of relief as the cold night air hit your lungs when you stepped outside. It felt like whatever residual weight had been on you was now lifted.

You released Jessie's hand and took a couple of steps away to further reset. You looked over to her and despite how long you'd been together, some small piece of you was still slightly caught off guard by how tenderly she gazed at you. You'd dated others before and no one quite got you like her.

When you first met, she was keen to learn how to respect your boundaries, even how to help maintain them with others, and how to help you cope when things got to be too much. She never once made you feel like a burden. You'd apologized once before and she was unwavering as she told you to never be sorry for having different needs.

You smiled at her.

"Thank you," you said. Her smile brightened.

"You don't need to thank me. You know I love you," she told you.

"I know." You really did, too. "I'm lucky."

She chuckled. "Come on. I'm lucky. I don't take for granted that you feel safe with me. I'm grateful that I can be close to you."

You smirked. "You are very special." She beamed at this. She dug the toe of her shoe into the ground momentarily, her hands in her pockets.

"Do you mind if I kiss you?"

"Please do."

[boxbugdotcom]

poo poo pee pee oooohh you wanna tal;k about mumscarian asooooo bad ouuhohhhhh you wanna discuss tehem and tyour headcannons on them SOOO ABADDDD

OUHH I WANNA TALK ABOUT MUMSCARIAN SOOOOO BAD

(guys, obviously this is not about the content creators, those are real people. this is all about the characters!! ty 🫶)

guys literally ENOUGH trying to chose between Grumbo or Scarian or Redscape. they all have two hands. And it’s not Just Grumbo + Scar or Scarian + Mumbo, THEY ALL HAVE WONDERFUL CHEMISTRY!!

Grian and Mumbo CLEARLY like each other— summoning circles and bothering each other every single day (not so much this season), they genuinely enjoy each other’s company, love being around each other— a good example could be in secret life, Grian’s first task to make bad puns and have no one laugh. And what did he do?? Immediately goes to find Mumbo, despite knowing Mumbo is the world’s giggliest person!! Another one is Mumbo’s complete and total regret when making that deal with Grian for his permits— when he took the bit too far and Grian backed out he felt so bad about it!!

Scar and Grian, I mean. C’mon. We have everything about third life, and then double life— and they have such a fun teasing sort of relationship! They laugh with each other and poke fun and that’s how they are !!! They are NOT bad for each other or mean to each other or anything, they play off of each other and don’t hold grudges for their bits. Like the snails bit, or the on hold bit (all from this season), they’re just ! fun and playful together.

Mumbo and Scar are absolutely wonderful together ! their personalities work well together and they’re so hilarious— i love me a crazy bitch (scar) and the seemingly normal guy said crazy bitch totes around with him (mumbo). That’s not to say Mumbo’s normal, he’s only regular because everyone around him is batshit /j still though! Scar does all his crazy shit, and Mumbo’s along for the ride bc they like hanging out together! Mumbo loves Scar’s builds and takes inspo from them, they based next to each other on magic mountain, they’re just so !!

And let’s not forget !! the buttercups! All of season nine! The fact that they’ve based together every season since Grian’s joined!!!

as for headcanons i. literally could talk for hours about it but my phone is dying and its late,,, so have this short list!!

- Grian falls asleep in the sun SO often and whenever Scar or Mumbo finds him, they just ! join him !

- Scar’s the strongest, Grian’s the lightest, and Mumbo’s the weakest. Grian has hollow bird bones and therefore is really light ! Mumbo just is,,,, such a twink im sorry its gotta be said. He may haul redstone components around but he is NOT buff. Scar is buff okay it just Makes Sense. He can pick both Grian and Mumbo up easy

- Mumbo’s the most easily flustered, and Grian and Scar tag team flirt with him SOOOO OFTEN. It just ends in Mumbo being a red and stuttering mess

- Mumbo also is the worst at flirting— Grian’s the best, and Scar isn’t good at it but his insane demeanor and strange behaviors are so captivating to the other two. Mumbo cant flirt to save his life. He once tried a simple pickup line on Grian and forgot how it went halfway through. He’s tried to flirt with Scar and fell face first into the dirt.

- Mumbo still has insane loserboy rizz and autistic swagger. how??? no one knows! but his nervous demeanor and autistic rizz bagged both scar and grian idk

- The Buttercups was a resistance to Doc, yes, but it was ALSO Grian and Scar inviting Mumbo into their relationship. Mumbo did not realize this until FAR into the buttercups. He was not complaining

- On that note, Grian and Scar were dating first, absolutely. After 3rd life??? there was no way they weren’t. But they saw Mumbo, in all his autism, loserboy, anxiety disorder swagger, and both fell head over heels.

- Mumbo has like. Always been in love with Grian and Scar. Since they became friends, basically. But he was nervous to say anything, and then they were dating, and it was okay! Mumbo was absolutely smitten, but it was manageable. He loved them both so much— it was a bruise that only hurt when you pushed on it. But he loved being around them! He loved being their friend, so it was okay! He was their friend, and he loved them, and he was okay with that

- Of course, they DID love him back. Mumbo just didn’t realize that,,,, for a while,,,,,

I’m sure i could come up with more! but like i said it’s late and i need to sleep lmao

[han-binary]

genre : silly drabble :)

summary : leehan reaaaalllly likes fish, and jaehyun is impatient about it

a/n: this in no way represents any of this idols ! this is purely for fun , being autistic i just love the way leehan is absolutely obsessed with his fish and this is purely a work of fiction, and just my head canon ♡

jaehyun sighs softly, eyeing his phone for what felt like the nth time this afternoon - he had promised to take his roommate to the pet store, despite his friends protests that it would take forever and he was now realizing that, glancing down at the boy who was squatting and meticulously analyzing every fish in the tank.

“can they really be all that different, hannie? just pick some.” the elder boy whines, checking his phone, he swore they had been in here for hours but the minutes were moving so slowly.

the focused boy hums, brushing some of his hair back and adjusting his glasses on his nose, leaning in and carefully looking at the fish, examining their eyes, scales, everything.

“can you get the worker?” leehan finally asks, looking at jaehyun, to which the elder boy swore he could cheer.

the younger boy goes back to examining the fish, softly pursing his lips as if in thought as jaehyun returns with an employee.

“dude if we can leave right now i will buy you your fish.” jaehyun whines again, to which leehan easily ignores him, standing to look the employee up and down.

“some of these fish are sick, i’d like to take them home and care for them, they have ich.” he gestures to the infection growing on their scales. “do you even know what ich is… taesan.” he reads off the boys name tag, frowning as the boy rolls his eyes.

jaehyun looks at taesan pleadingly, mouthing. “please just give him what he wants.” he folds his hands together to plead, taesan grabbing a net.

“ah- i don’t want you to use a net, it will stress them out.” he goes back to looking at the fish. “use a cup please.” he gestures to the plastic cups to scoop the fish out.

taesan sighs heavily, doing as he asks and handing over the bags, leehan smiling contently before pointing out the other healthy fish he wanted, holding them carefully in his arms.

“okay, i’m ready to go.” he tells jaehyun nonchalantly, as if they hadn’t spent a good two and a half hours there.

after buying the fish for the younger, and calming him from a slight meltdown of the fish getting home safely, they both walk back into their shared dorm, riwoo looking up and smirking. “long time no see!~” he teases, watching jaehyun huff and roll his eyes.

[jangofettjamz]

Short And Shy

Tara Carpenter x Autistic!Male!Reader

Summary: You were an inch shorter than Tara and extremely shy. She absolutely adored you for it.

Warnings: Description of autistic meltdown

Requested by: @d-epicplayz1028

Words

3rd person POV

Today was stressful on Y/N, a bad mental health day to be specific. Y/N lived by a simple schedule. He'd wake up, get ready for college, ride to school with his girlfriend, learn and spend the rest of the day with her. This would hardly waver from its course, but he was content with that. However, unfortunate events would impede on that schedule.

Tara and Y/N walked hand in hand down the halls of their college, the glares of students did not go amiss by the couple. They watched them; stared, most of envy, jealousy and the occasional resentment. Not that it bothered them of course, at least not Tara. Y/N wasn't fond of all the attention he was getting.

They found their place in their seats, each offering a warm smile to the other, filling them with a sense of warmth and comfort that only such a loving smile could offer.

Though, that sense of warmth quickly dissipated when one of the jocks and his friends burst through the door with a boom box in hand, blasting loud music that bounced across the lecture hall walls.

Y/N winced as the sound waves from the speakers invaded his ear drums. Tara took notice of the discomfort his face had displayed and moved to cover his ears with her hands, her thumbs moving in circular motions across his temples in an effort to calm him.

The lecturer was too busy reprimanding the boys who had interrupted his class to even notice the couple. He spouted something about having the boys expelled if they attempted a stunt like that again, Tara didn't really care for what he had to say, keeping jer focus solely on her lover.

Y/N began babbling incoherently, a symptom of overstimulation from loud noises. People were starting to look at the two of them and starting to whisper, not helping the situation at all. He could feel all the eyes on him, like the whole world's gaze set itself on him, to mock and belittle him.

He felt as though his throat had closed up, cutting off any potential communication. His senses were in overdrive, the smell of the mahogany chairs he sat on invading his nasal passages. His clothes felt wrong, the material itching his skin, too irritable to go unnoticed. Tara put two and two together, he was gonna have a meltdown.

Tara kept whispering sweets words to her partner "Shh shh shh, it's okay baby. You're okay, my love. Can I hold you? Would you like to be held right now?" The boy nodded desperately, wanting the warm embrace and comfort from her. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into her lap and began rocking him, a technique that proved to be quite effective at calming him.

The lecturer finally took notice of the couple and demanded to know why the sound of cries were present. "Ms Carpenter what is going on?" He asked impatiently after having to deal with the jocks.

"Y/N is having a meltdown, may we be excused?" The lecturer nodded, likely not wanting to argue anymore than he had to. Tara picked Y/N up and carried him out of the classroom, his shorter stature allowing this to be possible.

She hurried out of the classroom with him in her arms, ignoring the numerous voices talking about them. Y/N keeps his legs around her waist and his face in her neck while she carries him to her car, weak sniffles are heard by Tara, making her even more mad at the jocks who caused this.

Once they made out of the building Tara sets him down and opens the car door for him, he hastily gets in and shuts the door, stimming to try and regulate himself. Tara takes her place in the drivers seat and holds him for a few more minutes, carding her fingers through his scalp.

"Stupid jocks, aren't they" She says to which he mumbled out a sound in agreement, still unable to verbally communicate properly. "Let's go to my place. Is that okay?" He nodded again, prompting Tara to buckle up and he the same.

- 20 minutes later

Tara turned the key to open the front door to her apartment, it was there they were met with Sam. She was going to greet Y/N, but thought twice when she saw his current state. She went for it anyway "Hey buddy, what happened?" She says expressing deep concern.

He looked to Tara to speak up for him, she got the message and spoke up. "Some asshole and his friends blasted music in our lecture. He got overstimulated so I took him out of there." She explains, he held her hand a little tighter, his head nestled against her chest.

Sam cooed out of sympathy "I'll be in the kitchen if you need me" she says and he smiles at her words which she happily returned.

Tara kept repeating sweet words to him, making him feel safe. Y/N felt the environment around him become warmer with each word that came out of her mouth, comforting him I'm the best way possible. "You're doing so good baby, you're safe now. Nothing can get you here. No stupid jocks, no loud music, just you and me" he felt at home, she felt like his home; a safe space.

She looked down at him, taking note of his features, admiring him. He saw this and his cheeks went beat red. She giggled mischievously, knowing the effect she has on him. She placed a kiss on his forehead and the heat in his cheeks rose to new heights.

Her hands worked his body, one in his hair and one rubbing his back and arms. He kept his hands in his sleeves due to the shyness he was experiencing. Tara kept placing kisses on his head, loving the way he reacts to them.

"Are you feeling a little shy, baby?" He nodded, then yawned, tired from the meltdown earlier. "Shy and tired I see. Wanna take a nap for me?" A part of him wanted to protest, though, he knew that she was right and that he needed rest.

He nodded his head, eyes half open. She took upon herself to carry him to bed, showing her impressive strength despite being 5'1, though he was inch or two smaller than her.

She placed him on her bed, looming over him like a guardian angel. She draped the blanket over his small frame like a protective shield from all the bad things in the world and kissed his forehead with love and passion "Sleep tight, sweet boy. I love you"

And just like that he was out like a light. Tara stayed by his side as he slept, holding his hand knowing her presence alone brings him great comfort.

She was never leaving him. Ever.

[crystalandparrot]

RC9GN x Reader

New Season

Not my art!!

NEW SEASON OF RC9GN!!! This takes place AFTER the Sorcerer's defeat

If you would like to know what voice actors I had in mind for the new characters, I'll make a skippable chapter about it.

This is very different from my other stories! This (Y/n) is MAINLY based on Donnie from ROTTMNT. She can be seen as autistic, but for the sake of not writing too many details, I'll stick to the basics. If you want some chapters that have more details about autistic characters, I can write a few one shots. I don't want ANY exclusion. Without spoiling too much, her weapon is also VERY much like Donnie's. Lots of attachments, tools, and things that could further a plot line. A lot of the technology will be the same but it will all have different purposes. This is gonna be really out of my comfort zone, as most (Y/n) I write are somewhat based on me. If it ever gets too confusing or to OOC, let me know. I want to clarify, (Y/n) is NOT Donnie, I just don't see a lot of reader inserts or x readers with a truly intelligent reader and I thought it'd be cool. The Donnie inspiration was mainly because Ben Schwartz voices Leo from ROTTMNT and Randy.

I want to preface as well, if this does not become a Reader insert, this will be a slow burn. Again, getting out of my comfort zone.

"Congratulations! You have punched all the graves!"

With their signature move, Howard Weinerman a Randy Cunningham congratulated each other, but before they could completed said, 'slappage', Howard moved away.

"Now that we've finished the final final Grave Punchers game, we should talk about the Ninja situation." Howard stepped away, leaving Randy with his fist in the air.

"Okay, I know I'm gonna sound like a broken record on this but...there is no Ninja situation?" Randy asked, dropping his hand.

"Exactly! There is no Ninja situation!" Howard pointed to Randy's desk, where the mask and Nomicon lay, the book still disguised by a Math book cover. "Your Ninja stuff has been sitting at that desk all Spring Break! The stuff's probably collected dust by now." Howard complained.

"Pfft!" Randy waved his hand and crossed his arms defiantly. "N-no, no it hasn't."

Howard raised an eyebrow and blew a large gust of air at the Nomicon. A cloud of dust flew off and towards the boys, causing them to cough.

"Okay, okay. You might have a point." Randy walked to his desk and grabbed his mask. The red lines pulsed softly. "But, the Sorcerer's gone. And with him gone, McFist has no reason to fight me." Randy waved his hand for emphasis.

"Doesn't he hate the Ninja?" Howard asked.

Randy guffawed, "No one hates the Ninja!"

"I hate the Ninja!" A scratchy voice boomed throughout the circular room. "I just wanna punch him in his stupid Ninja face." He grumbled, slouching in his chair. The short burly man mashed his fists together angrily for emphasis. The man's face turned bright red, starkly contrast from his dark Judge's robe, hence the name they all knew him by.

"Whoo, take 'er easy there, Judge. You'll get wrinkles." The melodic voice came from the dark skinned woman sitting to the right of the Judge. She was staring into a compact mirror, although her counter parts were unaware as to how seeing as her fluffy hair was covering her eyes completely. With one hand holding the mirror, she used her other hand to apply bright red lipstick, the shade on the bottom read, 'Snake's Blood'.

"Yeah, you're starting to look like McFist." The sassy voice came from a tall tan man with brunette hair, elegantly styled.

"I am not-!!" The Judge angrily stood, his face red. He took a deep breath and sat back down, gently setting down his gavel after he angrily held it over his head. "I am not like Hannibal McFist."

"What's with this obsession over the Ninja lately?" The woman asked, setting her compact mirror back in her purse. "We're perfectly fine with how we're operating things now."

"And it's not like the Ninja notices small crimes, he's more focused on Monsters and Robots, right?" The brunette asked.

"Not anymore." The Judge shook his head. "The Sorcerer's gone, and with him out of the way, those Robots are soon to follow. It won't be long before he gets desperate." The Judge reached across the table and grabbed the small remote that sat in the middle. Pressing the red button, a projection appeared on the wall being the skinny brunette. "Last night. The Ninja overturned our truck of stolen money, the cops found it right after." Pictures of a dark figure, with, what looked like, a large mallet standing on top of the overturned truck, red and lights flashing behind them, making the lines on the suit look purple. The Judge turned off the projection.

"So we gotta go bigger." The woman smirked.

"How do you figure?" The brunette asked.

The woman, about to answer, stopped as her phone rang. She pulled it out of her blazer and answered sweetly, "Deputy Mayor Kranski. Oh, hi, hon!" Kranski giggled quietly, holding her other hand up to the phone to try to conceal her words, "I'm in a meeting, honey!" She stood straight once more, hand back at her side. "Yep, meatloaf is on the top shelf."

"Kranski." The Judge rolled his eyes.

"Okay, love you too. Buh-bye." Kranski smiled sweetly, hanging up.

The brunette looked at his nails out of boredom, then looked back up at Kranski. "You were saying?"

"The Ninja is used to dealing with larger threats. So why don't we give him one?" Kranski smirked, folding her hands together.

The Judge's eyes widened, "And how do you suppose we do that?"

"We don't exactly have the funds to do that. And before you start, I'm a rich designer. You want a guy to build robots, you should have gotten my old roommate." The brunette checked his nails again.

"Once again, you offer no help, Damien." The Judge rolled his eyes.

"But, I did hear that your old high school is having an invention convention in a few days. Maybe we could...sponsor one of the brilliant students to help us?" Damien smirked.

"My old high school..." The Judge looked off in the distance, remembering his old days in school. He rubbed his Norrisville alumni ring as he recalled the happy, the sad, the humiliation...oh the humiliation... "That might just be the best idea you've had yet." The Judge smirked.

The three began laughing, first small, then growing to loud chaotic laughter.

"Just you wait, Ninja. We're coming." The Judge smirked.

"I don't know about this (Y/n)."

"Bucky, you're gonna be fine. I'm a scientist—"

"You're fourteen!" Bucky interrupted.

"Still technically a scientist." (Y/n) poked her head up from behind her desk, goggles plastered on her head. The left lens was wide and red, much closer to the metal band connecting the goggles than the right lens. The right lens was slightly extended past the left and was blue. "Move to the right a bit." She commanded, motioning with her hand for her companion to move to his right.

Buck looked down at the ground and shuffled to the right, now more centered on the red 'X' on the ground.

(Y/n) grinned and gave a thumbs up, a noise of confirmation exiting her lips before she resumed her fast typing.

"So what does this do again?" Bucky asked, looking around at the dangerous equipment aimed at his head.

"Oh this? It's just a simple home alarm." (Y/n) waved her hand above her screens so Bucky could see.

"Simple, right." Buck nodded, but did not agree at all. "Has anyone ever told you that you tend to go a little overboard?" Bucky asked.

(Y/n) peeked around her screens again, goggles now over her eyes, "No, why?" Without waiting for an answer, she continued typing.

Bucky anxiously tapped his arms to his side but stopped once one of the large metal arms adjusted near his head.

"Okay!" (Y/n) clapped her hands and stood, slightly scaring Bucky. "If I did this right, you shouldn't get hurt! At least not too bad." (Y/n) mumbled. Flipping her goggles back onto the top of her head, she added some last minute adjustments.

"What was that?" Bucky asked quickly, sweating in all uncomfortable places.

"And 3, 2,-" Before she could press the 'enter' button on her large complicated keyboard, all of her screens changed to a cute emoticon of her face. The emoticon had half lidded eyes, goggles, and a lazy smirk, much like the counterpart that made it.

'School. School. It's time for the most important time of the day. School. School. As Galileo said,"All truths are easy to understand once they are discovered; the point is to discover them."'

(Y/n) turned off the alarm with a sigh. "As much as I'd love to listen to quotes from famous scholars all day, Galileo is right. It's time to discover new truths!" (Y/n) stood, finger raised in the air boldly. She grabbed her (f/c) satchel (A/N: sorry, just a question. Would you guys want you to have more inclusive things like (f/c) or (f/drink) or should I keep it Donnie-esque? Keep the favorite color purple and the favorite drink flavorless juice.) and Bucky's bag. She pulled her phone out of her (f/c) hoodie and began typing quickly with just her thumb, her previous excitement suddenly disappearing. (Y/n) began walking out of the dimly lit room, eyes trained on the screen. "You might want to follow quickly, because I accidentally pressed the button." (Y/n) said as she rushed out of the room.

The beeping of the mechanical appendages and weapons powering up around Bucky, made him gulp.

[dunmeshistash]

I can’t find it now, but you had a post about Kabru being high-masking, and you said you didn’t think he was, which is completely fair! I had a different opinion as someone who is high-masking AuDHD and wanted to share (but of course now I can’t find the post 9_9)

Personally, I read Kabru as being high masking autistic, with one critical difference between us: he’s an extrovert. I’m actually more like Milsiril than Kabru - I collect/make dolls, I’d rather be at home than anywhere else, I’ve been called creepy and weird and gloomy for all of those things, but I also learned how to mask relatively early on, so most people don’t ever get to see that side of me. For me it’s a lot of work and energy- most of the time. If I’m around people I like, it’s less so, but people in general take a lot of my energy. Kabru, on the other hand, is very extroverted. He gets a lot of energy from interacting with people, and for the most part his personality and interests are acceptable to the society he lives in. BUT his interest in dissecting people’s motivations and how they communicate and interact and how to move them in the direction he wants them to go, that’s considered overly intense and creepy even by his party. Kabru keeps a lot of his thoughts and honest reactions internal because he’s aware of how people interact and what is or isn’t acceptable. I do the same thing, and I engage in a fair bit of “manipulation” (neutral) as part of my masking - I know that asking people for advice, showing interest in their lives, complaining together about things, etc, will cause them to view me more favorably and I use that to keep myself “safe”, along with basically never talking about my interests. I’m friendly and open and helpful and I almost never fight back against anything, so people “like” me. It’s not all *fake*, but it’s not the whole truth either. I’d rather not engage in conversation at all, because I can’t talk honestly about my interests without being considered creepy- but if Kabru’s special interest is people and how they interact, to some degree he can talk about his interests without it seeming weird.

Anyways, that’s my perspective :D also thank you for being a Milsiril defender, it’s… really painful to see people calling her manipulative and superior. I know a lot of it is bc ppl DO NOT understand anyone who likes dolls as an adult but like….. liking dolls has less than nothing to do with “needing to feel superior” or in control -_-

Hello!! I collect dolls too!!! Proud to be nº1 Milsiril defender.

That's an interesting perspective! As far as I understand (I'm autistic too so I don't have personal experience to how allistic people work) everyone does some amount of masking, as in everyone has a version of themselves they use to interact with others and that "mask" usually falls when you're with people who know and understand you better

As I understand that type of mask is expected in society? Like you wont act at work the same way you do with your college friends (usually). But as some tumblr post said "we are the mask and the wearer" as in those masks are still a part of who they are.

That's why I said I didn't think Kabru was high masking, I hadn't heard that term before so I was confused

Maybe I don't fully get it but keeping some parts of yourself inside and not expressing it to people who wont understand is common among allistic and autistic people but masking is this but in a way more stressful way? Since you aren't just hiding facets of who you are you're making an active effort to hide the whole thing basically.

Kabru's mask seems to come easily to him and it doesn't seem like he makes an conscious effort to go against his nature to hide who he is that's why I said he probably doesn't do high masking in that sense. But in another sense he IS highly adaptable to the people around him and studies how people act so I understand that perspective! It's more of a personal interpretation tbh.

[iceman-soup]

request!

sorry if you've done this already, but what would Ghost and Soap's first leave together look like? could be sfw or nsfw, everything is up to you

yes yes yesss this is sfw because my descriptive brain took over, also autistic ghost supremacy 🫶🫶

ghost x soap

Simon wasn't ready to meet Johnny's family yet. Hell, they'd only been dating five or so months before deciding to stick with each other on leave, and by that point it was far too stressful and overwhelming to think about meeting a whole bunch of new people to mask around and make good impressions. Ghost needed the time off to re-regulate, and honestly, Soap wasn't up to introducing a boyfriend he had barely warned his mother about beforehand.

So instead the two taxi'd over to Manchester from the airport, arriving at a tiny, cheap flat with even cheaper security cameras dotted on each outside wall and above the front door. "Enough of a deterrent, even if half don't work," explains Simon, seeing Johnny looking around curiously. He unlocks the door and pushes it open an inch, baited breath for a couple of moments as he appears to listen for anything unusual, before opening the door properly, flicking on the warm overhead lights and pulling Soap in by the hand, who gazes at the inside of his flat whilst Ghost locks the door again.

"Dinnae take you for an interior designer, Lt," John grins, glancing at the taller man before going back to admiring the space. It's dusty, sure, but otherwise not quite as awful as expected, and although cramped, holds a feeling of comfort and rest. The two are standing in the kitchen, cupboards naked oak wood and counters hand-painted daffodil yellow, the honey-coloured floor tiles chipped but superglued back together. The image of Si sitting cross-legged on the ground fixing them fills Soap's mind, his heart fluttering at how domestic his lieutenant suddenly seems.

There isn't a wall between the kitchen and living room, and Johnny takes that opportunity to wonder straight through, taking note of a comfy-looking secondhand sofa to cuddle up on together later. An old TV with a jumble of cables is stood upon a coffee table, which simultaneously doubles as an actual coffee table, evident by a few mismatched coasters with just as many water marks as the surface they're supposed to be protecting. Splintering wood in the tried-to-be-aesthetic bare floorboards are covered by a granny rug which contrasts the baby blue walls surprisingly well. Two doors lead off from the living room, and Ghost walks over to the first one, opening it to show the other.

"Bathroom," he comments as if it isn't obvious. There's nothing extraordinary about it, but Soap does notice his unwavering loyalty here and on base to his very specific shower products - of course. He nods and they move on, entering the fourth room. Si hovers at the doorway whilst Johnny wanders inside, taking in the bedroom.

Most of the space is taken up by a double bed pressed up in the far corner, white paint on the metal frame missing in spots, showing its age. The bedding is black with little bone prints patterning it, soft cotton and all matching. Shoved next to the bed is a chest of drawers, one of the handles missing and replaced with a nail bashed into the wood. Hung up precariously on the picture rail over it is Simon's formal uniform - clearly unused for years due to his skilful avoidance of social events. Again, the floor is stripped of carpet (the bedroom in slightly safer condition than in the living room) and the walls are painted, this time a pale pink and dotted with glow-in-the-dark plastic stars.

"Never got them as a kid," Ghost mutters, gesturing to the stars and then the general soft colours of his flat. He shuffles awkwardly on his feet, avoiding eye contact - and subsequently his boyfriend's loving smile too. "You want something to eat? I don't have anything," he adds quickly.

"We can go doon to the chippy?" John suggests, walking over to kiss him tenderly. "Or if you don't feel like seein' people, I could order us something." The taller man nods at the second option, then proceeds to wrap his arms around Soap's waist, burying his face into the crook of his neck and pressing his lips to the skin, simply savouring his warm embrace.

"I love you, Johnny. I'm happy you're here."

The next few days go by far too quick for either's liking. They're spent with long mornings just laying in bed, doing fuck all on their phones in the oddest cuddle positions known; alternatively, smothering each other in hugs and kisses until they have to give them attention until they're satisfied. Time is spent plodding around the flat, wearing pyjama trousers and fluffy socks and with blankets draped over their bare shoulders.

Meals are cooked with very little skill but a whole lot of try, so at least that's something. Neither go out much; just to the shops when they need something or one night to get fish and chips from the good place across the street. They eat sitting on the countertop or the sofa, watching some shitshow with a laugh track that winds Simon up.

Evenings involve making out during conversation, quietly murmuring and laughing between kisses, chests pressed together so their hearts can talk directly. Ghost realises he's never felt so safe and content on leave before this one night when they're lying in bed, a dim lamp the only light in the room as he runs his fingers through Soap's hair, now slightly curly from growing out whilst not on base. It's quiet, but not in the lonely, terrifying way it usually is when he's alone in the flat, left to his own thoughts for however long between deployments.

Maybe, just maybe, leave will become something that he doesn't dread anymore. And perhaps next time - he thinks, pressing a kiss to his boyfriend's forehead and flicking off the lamp - it might be nice to meet Johnny's family.

[bonniethecreator]

hi ml u will never guess who this is . Anyway ummm wuld u be willing to write dylan lenivy x autistic reader who’s touch starved … reader struggles expressing when they want to be held and stuff idk I am projecting i love that man so bad .

i wonder who this is ...

sir yes sir ! i hope i do him so much justice because I don't want you to hate me for portraying him wrong, lets go! (idk whby the photo quality is shit)

the pov also might be all over the place so I'm so sorry

Hackett's Quarry Summer Camp was full of excited chatter as the kids made sure their last day of camp was well-spent. Camp had been a whirlwind full of laughter, stories by the campfire (most of which Mr. H would detest), and fun all around, but unfortunately it had to end. The kids did as much as they could before they inevitably had to come to terms with the setting sun, packing their bags and having their last meal before the trip home.

Every counsellor made their way to sit by the campfire while waiting for the campers to come out of their cabins. Dylan picks his spot on the log next to Y/n, giving each other a small smile before they start chatting with the others. Loud chatter echoed through the air all night, quick glances being thrown Y/n's way as they chatted to a group of campers.

After the kids had devoured all the s'mores, and the campfire had burned low, the kids had been sent back to their cabins to sleep, and Dylan and Y/n had found themselves sat by the lake."It's crazy that summer's already over", Dylan sighs, resting his elbows on his knees as he looks over to Y/n. "Yeah it kind of sucks, I like it here." They reply, throwing Dylan a smile, handing him a rock.

Dylan throws them a puzzled look, taking the rock from their hand. Y/n lets out a small chuckle before standing up and throwing the rock into the lake, watching as it skips a couple of times before sinking into the water. Dylan follows their movements, chucking the rock into the water, though it just dives in with a sad 'plop'. He turns around to Y/n's laughing figure, "Okay, you don't need to laugh. We aren't all blessed with rock skipping skills." Dylan's voice is laced with sass as he smiles at Y/n, watching them as he makes sure to memorise this moment to cherish.

"Okay here, I'll help you out" Y/n places another rock in Dylan's hand, positioning him from behind and hesitantly placing their hand on top of his. They look up at him for any sign of discomfort, their eyes scanned over his face, until he looked back and they quickly snapped back to face the lake.

Dylan smiles to himself as he focuses back on their hands together, Y/n softly moving his hand to show him the correct way to throw the rock, though it isn't about that anymore for either of them. Y/n breathing wavers as they try to calm themself, as Dylan hoped Y/n couldn't feel his heart beating from the back of his ribs. "You should probably take me out to dinner first" Dylan flirted, looking back at Y/n with a stupid smirk on his face. Y/n nervously laughed in response as they flung the rock from Dylan's hand into the water, watching it skips before dropping.

Y/n quickly removes their hand from his, trembling as they attempt to head back to the counsellors cabin, before Dylan reaches out "Hey. You don't.. uh, do you want to stay a bit longer?" He fumbled his words, interlocking his fingers with Y/n's. "Uh.. yeah." Y/n smiles softly, looking at Dylan through their eyelashes as they tighten their grip on his hand, moving closer to him.

They sit back at the foot of the pier, their hands never separating, Y/n's head sits on Dylan's shoulder as they talk for as long as they can before fatigue hits them both. When they both agreed to call it a night, Dylan stood up. "Would you want to sleep in my bed?" he wiggled his eyebrows at Y/n teasingly, offering his hand to help them up then leading then back to the cabin.

After getting comfortable in his bed, Dylan patted the spot next to him, though undoubtedly small, Y/n lay down next to him. Dylan let them get comfortable before he wrapped his arms around them, placing a small kiss on the side of their head before they lay together in silence. Y/n let the comfort of Dylan's touch and presence lull them to sleep, they really made the most of the last night of summer camp.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA (30f) for losing my cool/snapping at my roommate and friend (30m, who I will call Kyle) because he was too loud playing games online with his friends?

For context, in case it's needed: this happened a couple months ago, but it's been on my mind. We are both autistic and thus got a late start in our adult lives, in several ways. We have been friends for 10 years and have lived together for roughly 7 of them, on and off (we adopted 2 cats together many years ago, its just easier like this so we dont have to separate them or force one of us to be away from the cats. we love them very much. kind of a coparenting situation lol). Kyle has a salaried tech job that's remote for 70% of the time, and I've recently become a full-time online college student after failing to "make it" without a degree.

We live in a tiny 2-bedroom house that Kyle's family owns. We're only charged for utilities, which is why neither of us are leaving anytime soon (contrary to what you might assume, Kyle does not make a lot of money), especially since it's giving me the opportunity to go to school full-time and not worry about rent. Kyle helps me a lot with groceries and other necessities and I do most of the chores.

So we are always basically on top of each other, and sometimes we get on each other's nerves. We try to be respectful of each others' space, but it's hard because there is not much space in the first place.

I had a really busy day studying and doing homework, which is basically every day for me, since I'm taking 6 classes, 4 of which are STEM classes. So I tend to fall asleep early if I'm not unintentionally pulling all-nighters. I was trying to sleep when this happened around 9pm.

He usually closes his door because he knows he can be very loud, but it doesn't help much. I ended up having to close my own door to try and drown out some of his yelling and laughing, which I understand is going to happen and I try not to hold it against him.

But then he opened his door and left it wide open, so I could hear everything, like he was in the same room. Something really funny must have happened because he started scream-laughing.

Despite this being a semi-regular weekly occurrence, I was really startled. I figured, it probably wasn't intentional and he'll try to quiet down and close his door. I tried to relax and as soon as I started to fall asleep, he did it again, except louder.

This time he didn't stop, he was full-on screaming and yelling at the top of his lungs. Kinda like those game streamers/youtubers where literally all they do is scream the whole time? Very similar. My cat, who was asleep under the blanket on top of me, got startled awake and scratched the shit out of my leg.

I think this all triggered a "fight" response because I was suddenly just so incredibly pissed at Kyle, which I tried to get under control, but he would not stop screaming and I literally could not hear myself think.

(I cannot wear earplugs or have anything in/covering my ears for huge sensory reasons.)

Then my cat wanted to leave the room to see what the commotion was, so I had to open the door, which gave me a direct line of sight to to Kyle at his computer.

I walked over to his doorway. Tried to knock and call his name, but he didnt notice with his noise cancelling headphones on. So I slammed my hand against his door to get his attention & yelled "Hey! Shut the fuck up, Kyle!"

He looked surprised to see me and laughed and kinds waved it off and said "sorry, it got a little intense" and he started to explain what they were doing.

I cut him off and said "I don't care. Shut the hell up." He said he could close his door again, and I said "No, you need to stop. Just stop! You're freaking the cats out too!" and I pointed to my leg with huge bloody scratch marks, shut his door, went back to my room, shut my own door. And of course after that I had adrenaline coursing through my body and I couldn't fall asleep anyway.

After that, I didnt hear a single sound from his room apart from an occasional quiet laugh. I started to feel guilty. I think I overreacted and ruined his fun. I know this is his way of blowing off steam halfway through the work week.

I also felt embarrassed because his friends probably heard me throwing a fit. We have lived with them before, and they're exactly that loud every single night. I have had to ask them to quiet down multiple times, and Kyle told me later on that gave them the impression that I'm. Well, "neurotic, controlling bitch" was heavily implied. Kyle is usually a lot more chill, but being around these guys influences him to act more like them.

But, I guess being loud while having fun isn't a crime, especially when it's not even 10pm yet. I feel like I proved his friends right, maybe.

The next morning I apologized, he apologized too, and everything seems to be good between us, but it's been a while and he's a lot quieter during game night now. He's such a reserved and stressed out person, he hardly ever laughs except when he's playing games, so I feel like I destroyed an important outlet.

I told another friend what happened and she said I didn't overreact at all and she would have flipped out way sooner if her husband did that. (Not sure it's comparable I mean we aren't married lol) And for the record, this friend and her husband were once part of a now-fractured friend group including Kyle and his game night friends, but grew apart, for a lot of reasons, but I think mainly because the Loud Gamer Friends never really grew up while everyone else matured and moved on to different phases in life.

Basically my friends current impression of Kyle is that he is a decent person but incredibly emotionally stunted and feels like he may unintentionally cope in ways that often hurt me without caring as much as she thinks he should. Which....feels partially accurate, I guess. But isn't that placing too much responsibility on him for my wellbeing? He does a lot for me, so it felt like an unfair thing to say.

My mom on the other hand, seems to fully think I am an asshole fun-ruiner. She thinks I should have tried harder to calm down. Maybe I should have approached him sooner - nicely.

And I agree. He probably would have tried his best to oblige even if he couldn't fully succeed. But that's the reason I didn't bother - in the past he has only been able to honor that kind of request for maybe 10-15 minutes, then forgets, and it's exhausting to keep reminding him.

Anyway... what does everyone here think?

[undershyperfixate]

Ranting about Ashlyn and Aiden ( concerning Red story)

( this is spoiler free, I will only discuss things that happened until ep 72)

Edit : This was sitting in my draft for so long omg

( One of those rant is inspired by a convo I had with Moon)

(edit: I've just realized while editing this that your surname is biin and not moon I apologize)

SO, sure there's an sbg hiatus, but that doesn't stop me from nourishing myself with any content there is 🫡

What content do we have here?

I've thought about that so many times while reading fanfics about sbg, especially because there's a lot of alternative universes fanfics and I would ask myself "would they even be friends without those events?"

And now we have our answer; no.

But what's interesting then is that Ashlyn would only get close with Aiden in universes where an event would force a proximity. More defined by an event where they would be forced to interact and understand each other to survive the event, without this event, their relationship wouldn't exist. Which is understandable since as shown in the webtoon, before the dimension; she avoids him, she distanced herself, and she would have continued to do that.

But most of all, I want to talk about the last sentence. ( I'm extremely bad with context clues so I'm not sure if the last sentence "they've grown closer and find comfort in understanding one another" is about the whole group or just Ash and Aiden, but let's act as if it was about Ash and Aiden).

Them both being neurodivergent ( Canon-wise, Ash is autistic and Aiden has ADHD) adds a lot to their understanding of each other and how they can find comfort in being together ( platonic or romantic).

I'm going to use one of some scenes to explain my thesis

My favorite, scene, of all time. I love everything about that I'm going to explode.

Okay anyway, here we can see that Aiden noticed Ashlyn depressed state fastly, without even needing words, he knows about her boundaries so he just caress their knuckles together ( that sounds so medical) as a way to comfort her without making her uncomfortable. He understands her needs and boundaries and wants to still be able to be there for her and make her feel better in his own way so he does it in the most thoughtful way

The way he's shocked at the contact and can't handle seeing her cry omg :( the way he wraps his hand around her in a comforting manner, like he just knows what to do when it's needed, without overstepping her boundaries in any way.

And now later on,

Aiden was the first one to see that ash felt distressed about driving again, ( due to her feeling guilty when Tyler fell and that she wasn't able to go back). He proposes to drive even tho has zero experience in driving ( he probably wanted to try for some thrills too) but also because he understood how uneasy it was for her, same as when they were in the hospital.

And now for the main scene that inspired me to write this

He's staying beside her when he's running and immediately grabs her arm when she stumbles because of the sudden loud noises. He sat beside her and put his hands on the headphones to help her muffle the sounds even more. That's such a genuinely adorable way of showing that you care by doing an act of service, but also them being both written as neurodivergent makes me think that they understand each other in a relatable way, in a "helping one another accommodate to their struggles" kinda way. The same way as Ash is said to be unconsciously more protective of Aiden because he's more hyperactive and takes more risks.

Everything about this rant can be taken as both platonic or romantic, as I tried to stay on red's words to describe their dynamic. ( Did I already say that? I get distracted easily)

I've finished my little rant, thanks for reading

[hotluncheddie]

t4t chubby autistic steddie GO

i have been thinking about this (nsfw from twitter!!) art lately so i am here with u <3

even tho i get nervous to write trans characters, idk why, i just don't wanna mess it up i think

but im doing my best!! bc autistic and gender exploration are very lovely wonderful cozy subjects so i'm gonna focus on that

this is such a string of ideas but - 4 u <3 :3c

Stevie leaves with Eddie and Robin, taking their trust fund and leaving their parents to it - too the rest of their lives - without her. Like the Harringtons always hoped, really.

Stevie doesn't need them, the money is useful but they offer nothing more to her.

She's able to buy an apartment. In Chicago. With her loves. They learn how to live. How to live together. How to be at peace.

There's big bright widows in the main space, with light and air and the sunset. The two bedrooms are cozy and warm and it's a place for them all to grow.

'There's chips here.' Eddie says. They have a matching day off and she's trying to practice what it is to do nothing, to truly rest. Eddie helps, by being there, keeping her still with his hands and his love.

But Stevie tenses up, she was snacking, has been snacking, trying to learn her hunger signals better - what they feel like to her. It was always a rule not to east in her room, not to eat between meals. But she was hungry, she had a snack.

'I'm not judging, I'm saying so we remember to take it out next time one of us goes to the kitchen.' Eddie says, coming back from changing the tape, kissing her. Kissing her and kissing her.

Stevie relaxes.

'You've gained a little weight.' Robin says, laying on Stevies thighs on the couch, crocheting while Stevie watches sports and rubs her knuckles agains her teeth, twirling a strand of Robins hair in her fingers.

She looks down at her best friend. Robin looks back at her.

Robin smiles.

'It's good. You look more like you than you ever have before.'

Stevie smiles back. Tries not to cry.

Stevie letting herself change, relax. Unlearn those eating habits that helped her feel in control. Instead allowing herself to enjoy, and eat the things she wants to, the things she likes.

Eats pasta every night for a month and doesn’t feel bad about it. Doesn’t force herself to eat kale because she hates it, spinach is good enough. She is good enough.

Eddie gets little chubbier, in this new life. After recovering from nearly dying. Explains to Stevie in his long lilting way that he likes it, feels more protected, like his skin isn’t so fragile now.

He’s never liked his body but now he truly knows how short life is, and, maybe he can learn to like this new one. In this new place, in the love that surrounds him.

Plus, the bats destroyed his chest. So without that in the way, no longer lurking and potentially ruining his day. He realises he can shed that background fixation he always seemed to have with thinness. The idea that it would make him look more masculine or more androgynous. Curves were for girls and Eddie was not. That.

But now, now, who fucking cares. He’s alive. He needs to eat.

Steve feels a finger trailing over her hip, dipping into the band of her underwear, skimming over her crack and the the ridges of stretch marks that lead up to her waist.

'So so pretty' Eddie whispers, and it's filled with so much awe, so much grace, so much reverence and love.

Stevie shivers, feeling endless and grounded and like her body is here and hers and everything she ever dreamed of because it exists now.

She puts her hand under her loose shirt, cupping her belly. Skin still sleep warm and the energy of her palm seems to cover her whole body in warmth, in light and softness. Tinging and bright. Still being traced lightly by the love of her life. But being loves by her own hands, now, too.

She exists. And finally, everything is beautiful.

[wafflerageface]

Top 5: Favorite Durgetash headcanons

Like my personal headcanons or ones I’ve seen?

Personal headcanons:

1. Durgetash were head over heels in love with each other, even if they expressed love in ways that seemed fucked up to everyone else. They were two incredibly lonely people that just clicked in all the right ways to make each other feel like at least one person out there cared about them, and they did.

2. Enver Gortash is autistic/ADHD and Durge was his favourite person to info dump on. I mean look at him. My wife is autistic and they have very similar mannerism and ways of thinking. (In the logical sense anyway my wife hasn’t killed anyone) Especially with how his parents described how brilliant he was even as a child, I can just imagine child Enver coming off as annoying and needy to everyone around him because he wanted to talk about his inventions and no one cared to listen. Durge, on the other hand, grew up in a temple where they were expected to behave a certain way and was essentially treated as a puppet, even if they could’ve called the shots how they wanted to. I can’t imagine being a child taken into a murder cult and feeling anything but fear, even if you don’t need to be afraid. Durge knew nothing but blood and death for years, and along comes this funky little guy that wants to rant for hours about the kind of metal he wants to build his steel watch out of?? Yeah. They loved that shit.

3. Enver is a pansexual monster fucker that will love your Durge no matter what. This man has been so lonely for so long that I genuinely think he doesn’t care what package the love comes in so long as he isn’t being used anymore. You’re a Dragonborn? Cool he can work with that. A tiefling? Excellent he’s gonna use those horns as handlebars. A cute half-elf that has a surprising appetite for blood? Absolutely and can he join the next blood bath please?? He loves seeing you work

4. Durge did not want to be Bhaal’s scion. I know a lot of people don’t like how the Durge opening makes it seem like they’re trying to “erase” that Durge was evil, but I view it more as perhaps Durge was never willing. Just because you’re fathered by a murder god doesn’t make you a murderer, and amnesia doesn’t really change who a person is, they just forget. Your brain literally just won’t let you recall memories. Now personally, I’m all for if you think your Durge hates everything about being the Chosen, or (like for my Durge) you think they just hated not being in control of themselves or allowed to kill as they please. Both are great mechanics for a well-rounded character, but I really think either way, Durge hated being what their father made them into, and would have jumped the moment they could escape. The prayer of forgiveness? A classic here’s my fake apology abusive parent so I can spare myself more abuse.

5. Enver whored himself out as a young man to get lots of power and money and he hated every second of it. We know it’s canon that he slept around a lot before the present day setting of the game, but I don’t think he ever enjoyed it. Not really. He grew up in the HoH where he was beaten and abused and nearly tortured to death on many occasions. He finally escapes with nothing to his name and once again he’s at the mercy of whoever he can convince to give him food, shelter, money, etc for the price of his body. This man absolutely has two wolves inside of him and one is a god complex and the other is an ego so crippled and fragile it’s a wonder he ever comes out of the house. When he meets Durge, he’s willing to manipulate them however he must to secure their alliance. He’s done it before, he’ll do it again. I think he’s so very surprised when Durge catches feelings back, when they go out of their way to take care of him, compliment him, even if it’s in their own fucked up fashion. I think the real sticking point for him would be when he and Durge are attending some high society to do together and they run into an old fling. Enver being upset and uncomfortable enough that they leave early and he tells Durge everything. The next day, and the following weeks, he finds severed hands, fingers, bloodied jewellery, all placed at his desk or beside his bed and he can’t help but smile. Durge bringing him pieces of their kills like a cat is so endearing to him.

I’ve got so many more but I think those are my favourite.