#to make sure i don't get overwhelmed and have a meltdown that puts me in my room for a week straight

[is-this-yuri]

so, no shame, i had a meltdown in response to that video i was working on getting disappeared by a crashing app. i'm autistic and emotional overwhelm is to be expected. ESPECIALLY given the stress i'm under being homeless.

i was crying quite loudly for about half an hour, and this is something i can soothe and guide myself through to vent my emotions. it's nessecary and, at this point after years of implementing coping strategies, a pretty harmless regulatory activity.

however, since i'm homeless and i live in my car, i have no private space to go through these meltdowns. they can be disturbing to witness or hear from a distance, i mean for me it often involves screaming and sobbing. but i reiterate they are not an immediate sign of danger.

apparently, someone thought a child was crying in my vehicle and called the police.

since i'm at a state park, a ranger came by to check on me and warn me the cops were coming, so i got out of there.

my question is, if you're so concerned about a potential child in distress, why wouldn't you go up to the vehicle and check on them yourself? why hide behind the police like a coward? such an 'innocent act of concern' could have really put me in danger.

police are not understanding about autistic meltdowns. they, and frankly the general public, see them as potentially dangerous. while it isn't unheard of, reports of autistic meltdowns resulting in violence are very overblown and used to fear-monger. i've never acted violently toward anyone during a meltdown, ever. but i HAVE been a victim of violence from both people i trusted and police attempting to control my meltdowns.

i'm constantly checking my surroundings to make sure i'm at least somewhat alone before having one of these meltdowns. i can't always contain them until i get to a place where i can be alone. it's not always safe to drive myself anywhere when my emotions are hightened. there is no stopping a meltdown, it WILL happen once i reach a certain emotional tipping point. a tipping point my stressful life places me right at the edge of all the time.

i don't feel safe anymore. anywhere. i'm not allowed to and cannot safely regulate my intense emotions, and there's a real risk of me being imprisoned, restrained, hospitalized, hurt, or killed because of this.

the ironic thing is the topic of the video i was working on is very relevant to this experience. this is my real, every day life, and i'm fucking exhausted of it. i'm angry. i deserve to feel safe.

[izzy-b-hands]

To Do for tomorrow (in theory at least, if the spoons are there to let me manage all of it)

-One last load of laundry (that idk where im gonna put bc im outta room but. I'll figure it out)

-clean bathroom sink

-swiffer all the floors (that are safely swifferable)

-double check my room and hide any sex toys still sitting out (in my defence, my toys my room my choice where they go, but also, i think a dildo can be a nice centerpiece on a desk or shelving unit top. Ties my whole room together!)

-pause the Oh God Mum's Visiting cleaning/prepping to try and gif Tyler's part in last night's concert (I fucking*screamed* when i heard the intro to his first song and saw him run out, poor Housemate was v chill abt me losing my shit in excitement lol)

-dishes, bc that's just a thing i like doing daily now. put on music, zone out for an hour and half, come back to conscious thought to a bunch of clean dishes. what more could a man ask for (I have ideas but I'll take dishes for now)

I'm writing this out, here, so when my forgetful ass is scrolling thru things tomorrow, I'll see this and won't forget to do anything

hopefully (Tomorrow Me pls don't fuck this up)

[thebearer]

arguing with carmen and its big enough where you leave for the night but what’s even scarier to him is that you also took teddy

he'd have an actual psychotic break, nervous breakdown.

especially bc i'm picturing him reverting back to his old ways. it's rare, but he slips into a full carmy (in the lock in) level meltdown. gets unbalanced and spirals further and further, and you just happen to be who he takes it out on.

screaming at you like a maniac over something stupid- you didn't wash his spare whites (he didn't tell you they needed to be washed). it's his fault, he knows it deep down, still he's losing his shit because it's the final straw.

"you stay at home all day! all fucking day and you can't do one thing!" carmen's red faced, screaming.

you're shocked, scared, on the brink of sobbing yourself. teddy's woke up from her nap, his screaming startled her. the newborn wailing from her nursery.

"carmen, you didn't tell me-"

"-i shouldn't have to!" carmen roars. "you're home all day-"

"-i'm on maternity leave. i just had a baby-"

"-oh, so. you can't do one fuckin' thing now? i have to do it all here too?" carmen is spiraling, pacing, running a hand down his face. "i get no fuckin' sleep, go work my fuckin' ass off, a-and then i come home so i can go back and work my ass off some more, and you can't help me out?"

his words sting, shock you with the weight of them. swallowing back tears, you turn, climbing the stairs to the bedroom.

carmen is scoffing, hands shaking with rage and annoyance and just overwhelmed. your ignoring him stings. makes him spiral even more. "don't go do it now! it's too late!" carmen scoffs. "i've got a fuckin' critic coming in two hours, and i'll wear stained whites. probably get a shitty review about our food being gross an-and the chef being just as bad!"

you texted pete through your tears, telling him that you were coming to stay there for a while. shoving clothes for the night in your small bag quickly, hands shaking when you zipped it up, your wedding ring flashing at you. you stared at it, a wave of tears coming over you, screwing the ring off your finger and setting it on carmen's night stand next to a photo of you two on your honeymoon.

you packed teddy and anchovy's things quickly, knowing you'd come back tomorrow to get what else you needed. just the essentials, to get through the night. anchovy in his carrier, and teddy in her's, you ignored carmen's pacing, his deep breaths and clenched eyes, walking straight to the garage.

carmen looked up at the sound of the door, standing quickly. a damning rush of horror, of realization washed over him, pulled him right out of his clouded tantrum.

"w-what- what are you- hey, what-" carmen runs towards the car door, where you're putting teddy's car seat into place, shushing the wailing girl gently.

"-don't fucking touch me." you sneer, teeth bared in primal rage, pure protectiveness.

"baby, wait, wait, ju-just hold on. where're you- hey, don't- where're you goin'?" carmen's frantic, eyes wide, stomach churning.

you shut the car door, moving past him without looking to get to the driver's side. "no, no, no, no, no. don't-baby please, don't. i-i-i'm sorry. i'm sorry!" carmen's stuttering in fear, hands shaking trying to hold the door open, keep you from shutting it.

"let go." you growl, yanking the door. "you're not going to talk to me like that, carmen. i don't care if you're stressed, i don't care. you're not going to come home and talk to me like that because you fucked up. not when i've been at home all day taking care of our- my child."

carmen feels dizzy, mouth filling with spit, sure he's about to throw up.

you slam the door, eyes watery and red and angry, glaring at him before pulling out of the driveway.

carmen's left alone in the garage, knees weak, hands shaking. his ears are ringing, head spinning, sure that he's hallucinating- that this has to be a sick sick dream. floods of realization icy through his veins.

the house is eerily quiet, so still. no teddy, no anchovy, no you.

he isn't sure how long he sits in the garage, the sun sinking in the horizon, but he stays motionless and still. richie shows up eventually, frantic and wide eyed.

"cousin! what the fuck? dinner service started a fuckin' hour ago, and we-" he stops, slowing his stride when he gets closer. carmen's vacant gaze, trembling hands.

"hey, carm, what's goin' on? you-you alright?" richie's voice dropped low and slow, like he used to with mikey. "carmen. hey, what's-"

"-she left." carmen whispered, his eyes wide in horror. "she-she left and she took t-teddy." carmen breaks, a sob choking out of his throat.

"why? why did she-" richie stops, looking at carmen. "carmen, what did you do?"

carmen sobs- no, wails. broken and terrified and horrified. full chest sobs that are more like screams. the realization of what he had done, what he had said, feeling the full weight of the consequences of his actions for the first time.

[luveline]

idk if you’ve done a request like this before but maybe roan (sweetest girl ever) gets moody and says something mean or does something mean to reader and maybe reader gets really sad over it and eddie helps roan apologize or make it better?

thank you you for your request! eddie and roan. fem!reader, 2k

Roan's hair is softer than her father's but twice as unruly. You hum and haw over what to do with it —she wants it out of her face because the weather is so, so hot today, your hands clammy even now, but lately she's complained about hairpin headaches. 

"Ready for brushing?" you ask. 

"No." Roan squirms in your lap. "Can you just put it up, please?" 

You nibble your bottom lip. You don't necessarily need to brush it, she's not going anywhere. She's lovely with or without neat hair, but… 

"I don't want it to get matted," you say, almost to yourself rather than her. 

"I want to go play," Roan whines.

You don't wince at her derision nor her impatience. She and her handsome father are the people you love most in the world, and to be able to do that, you've had to adapt to how children react. They can't control their bad moods with half the expertise of adults (though some of the adults you know can't do it, either). They need wiggle room.

And affection, undoubtedly. 

You stroke her hair back from her face. She jerks away from your touch. 

"Ro, I'm sorry," you say, in an attempt to assuage her unhappiness. Her fuse can be rather short. You'll all be happier if you can snub this flame before she has a meltdown. "I'm just trying to think of how best to do this, that's all. Can you give me a second?" 

Hair up? Clips out of her face? You know she's not in the best mood, and sometimes elaborate hairstyles make her feel better, but you can tell what she wants now is to be by herself with her dolls in the cool breeze of her standing fan. Simple ponytail, you decide. You and Eddie will just have to deal with any knots that happen when they happen–

"You're not good at hair, I should've asked dad," Roan declares, jumping off of your lap. 

You're startled, with barely the wits to say, "Hey, don't be like that, honey, I can do it–" 

"No, you can't do it." She snatches the hairbrush from you and turns the other way. "Dad will do it faster." 

"Hey," Eddie says, as though summoned by her mention. He stands in the doorway to the living room, a familiar yet foreign look on his face as he towel dries his wet hands. "Why are we talking to each other that way?" 

"Because she's slow!" Roan says, agitated, hands in fists at her sides. 

"Hey, no. I don't know why you're feeling unhappy, but being mean isn't going to make it go away. You don't talk to people like that, especially Y/N," Eddie says. His dark, thick brows furrow with frustration. 

Roan visibly gets more upset. 

"You want to go have five minutes?" Eddie asks her.

She throws her hairbrush on the floor and pushes past his legs, her footsteps like pangs of thunder as she stomps up the stairs. "Ugh!" she shouts. 

Eddie frowns at her as she goes but doesn't call anything more. You clasp the back of the couch in unsteady hands, a weird, strangling pressure wrapped around your throat like a hand. Your sides ache at your twisted position. 

Eddie, to his credit, isn't mad. He toes aside the thrown hairbrush with a confused pout. "What the hell just happened?" he asks. 

You're not sure. Roan's not happy because she's overwhelmed by the inescapable heat of summer, her TV volume is stuck slightly too loud at 27, and she didn't like the broccoli Eddie asked her to eat at lunch. Your slow hairstyling was the last straw, evidently. 

It hurts to have her angry at you. Hurts that she thinks you aren't measuring up to her father. 

You rub your eyes. "My fault. Couldn't get the brush through her hair 'n' took too long putting it up." 

Eddie lights up. You used to think it was theatrical, how he performs his affection, but the longer you know him, the clearer it becomes that he's just a dramatic guy. He sidles up to the couch and takes your face into both hands. 

"Not your fault," he says gently. Then, with more gusto, "She's grumpy, I'm sorry she took it out on you."

You try to play up to his bravado and find your own performance falling flat. "Yeah." 

His thumbs draw soft lines on your cheeks. You really like coparenting with him (though it feels a little weird to put it that way, and also very right) but in moments like this, you remember how much you love being his partner. How much you want him to kiss you and think you're pretty and smart and perfect. Eddie kisses the top of your head and gives you a hug over the couch, squeezing the tops of your shoulders, your face pressed to his neck. 

"It's not a big deal," you say. 

"No, it is. She's not having a good day, but I don't want her to be someone who takes it out on other people." He drops his lips to your forehead. "I'll go talk to her in a bit. Try not to take it personally, sweetheart. She knows how much you love her 'n' she knows she can be unreasonable with you like she is with me and Wayne. Blessing and a curse." 

You're reassured by the idea. Roan's showing off with you because she knows you're not going anywhere. She's moody and you'd been the first one to make a mistake with her today.

"I'm good at hair," you say unsurely. 

"You're great. Me and Ro have looked like a pair of Abercrombie models since we met you," he praises. 

"Think she's gonna be mad at me all day?" you ask. 

"Babe, you're mad at her." 

"I'm not," you say. 

"You're supposed to be." He gives your shoulder a rough rub. "I'm gonna go talk to her. Don't be upset, yeah? You're amazing." 

You accept a clumsy forehead kiss. 

Eddie leaves to soothe Roan's mood. You can imagine it now, his hip propped on the door jam, his unimpressed but patient look. You know we can't talk to each other like that, Ro. Even if we're not feeling good, we have to try to be nice. Do you know what's making you grumpy? Can I fix it for you?  

It's easy to guess what he's saying because you've heard it all before. He's a good dad. He might not always feel that way, but he is. 

You're not worried about Roan in any grand sense. She'll be okay. You're scared that what she said is true —you're not as good as Eddie at doing her hair. You're not as good as him at lots of things. 

You feel inferior to Eddie often as a parent. It's a given, considering that he's her primary caregiver, and has been since the day she was born. That's years of bonding and love you can't touch (wouldn't want to touch, really, wouldn't ever want to change how it happened at risk of messing up what you have now). You're not even really her official stepmom yet. 

What if Roan loved you because she was too young to know better? What if you're not good enough to take care of her?

Little footsteps drag down the stairs, followed by louder ones. You sniff and wipe the stressed tears that had been collecting in your eyes away, relieved to see Roan looking a little less enraged in the door. Eddie gives you a startled look at your expression, for which you can only offer a small smile. 

Roan doesn't mind the walk, standing in front of you where you're still sitting on the couch with ease. She glances at your lap where you clutch her hair ties in both hands, rubbing her own together guiltily. 

"Hi," you say hopefully. 

Roan looks at Eddie. You watch him nod from the corner of your eye. 

"I'm really sorry," Roan says. "For being mean." 

"That's okay," you say, holding your hand palm up atop your thigh, just in case. 

"Dad said you'd say that, but…" She eyes up your hand. You push it forward, and when she takes it, you draw an encouraging circle into her skin. "'Cus you love me, you don't get angry, but…" 

"What did you tell me, sweetheart? You can tell her. It's okay," Eddie prompts. 

Roan looks up. Brown eyes wide but soft brows pinched together unsurely, she says, "I didn't mean that you do hair badly. Please don't stop doing my hair, and kissing my cheek in the morning. Um, and playing dress up with me." 

"I'm not gonna stop doing those things," you say softly. Internally, you're relieved. "I love doing those things."

"Roan shouldn't have been mean," Eddie interjects. "Right?" 

"No, but she was having a bad day," you say, giving her hand a little swing. "Yeah? That's okay. I have bad days too, and I say things I wish I didn't." 

Roan looks uneasy. "You're not mad at me?" 

"Do you want me to be?" you tease gently. 

"No," she says through a shy laugh. Her stomach presses to your knee as she steps forward. "I didn't mean it about my hair."

"I know." 

She puts her hands up for you to pull her into your lap. You're more than willing to oblige, tucking her head under your chin. She's small in your lap. 

"I love looking after you," you murmur into her hair. "It's my favourite job. I know I'm not as good as daddy at things, but I didn't get all the training he got." 

"You're just as good as dad," Roan says. 

"You're better," Eddie says. 

You turn your head to grin at him. "Not true, but I'll keep trying, Ro. I'll get it." 

Roan fights to escape your tucking, her head tilted back, the blue glow from the fish tank cooling her face. "I love you now," she says. 

"Aw," Eddie says, though he looks shocked at himself, like it had slipped out unbidden. 

"I love you too," you say. More than you can explain. 

She puts her hand on your collar. "I'm sorry," she says again. 

"She knows, babe," Eddie says, flopping down onto the couch next to you both. 

"I forgive you straight away," you agree, rubbing the short breadth of her back lovingly. "It did make me sad, worrying you didn't think good things about me, but it's okay. I know you were getting annoyed. You couldn't help it." 

Roan's smile is so relieved you can't stop yourself from taking her face into two hands and planting kisses into the heart of her hairline. 

"Love you, silly," you say. 

"Share!" Eddie demands, his weight on your arm. 

Roan giggles as she's painted in kisses. Eventually, when her rosy cheeks have been covered inch to inch by kisses and she's so loved up her eyes are shining, she pushes you both away and holds her hands out. "I need space." 

You and Eddie laugh breathlessly and lean back into the couch, shoulder to shoulder. 

The older she gets, the more things like this are going to happen. She's going to have opinions, and expectations for you and Eddie. She's going to want space —she's going to need it, like she said. You don't mind giving her what she needs even if it is an adjustment, and even if she does aim her outbursts at you when she's overwhelmed. You do wish you could curl a strand of her hair around your finger, or stroke her cheek, but then she puts her hands on your shoulder. She's still blushing. 

"You're the best mommy ever," she says. 

"Did you tell her to say that?" you ask Eddie. 

"No way," Eddie says, dropping his head onto your other shoulder, his hair tickling your neck. "She just knows the truth, babe. I didn't have to tell her anything about it." 

[luc1fersducky]

Lucifer Morningstar with an autistic reader (GN)

a/n: hai 🫶 keeping you all fed while i write some smutty smut for you horny little sinners 🫣 but honestly i may just be self projecting here cos my autism is quite an important thing in my life

~ SO.. we all heard the news of this man being canonically autistic, right..? we all saw viv confirm it?

so like... hear me out.. his new partner being autistic does just fall hand in hand because youre both just so understanding of each other.. and imagine if his partner hasn't been understood enough 🥹 our boy is straight on the case!

~ TEXTURES ARE SUCH A BIG DEBATE IN THIS HOUSE. like, you found a blanket in the store thats not only weighted, but this beautiful red colour and such a soft texture, and you FREAKED OUT over it. immediately running to show him with a massive smile on your face and jumping about so eagerly to show him.

While he's offended at first that he can't keep you wrapped up in his wings (this is a topic we'll discuss later in this.), he's heading STRAIGHT to but it for you.

There's a texture either of you don't like? it's gone within hours. Carpet's rubbing along your feet as you walk in all the wrong ways? you bet he's calling somebody to replace it with a more suitable texture.

~ THIS ALSO GOES FOR FOODS. as an autistic person with safe foods, i will 100% NOT be happy if im out of my safe food on a bad day.

So when you're having dinner, for example, and a particular food's got that metally taste that you just can't stand, he can tell simply by the look of discomfort

so he's INSTANTLY getting those safe foods on standby, distracting you as best as he can from the icky parts. poor baby's got to make sure his angel's not going through all of this alone like he most likely has for years :(

(one of his safe foods is 100% pancakes, not up for debate. like this is made for breakfast ON THE DAILY, or a midnight snack after a meltdown)

~ speaking of meltdowns, this sweetheart is a star with them.. whether it be a sensory overload, or an emotion going into overdrive. he's clueless at first sometimes, he can't help that he was half asleep!!

but once he's given it a minute of prolonged eye contact, he's very quickly spotted the signs. He's getting all the comfort objects and foods you can think off, and if the wings comfort you; you're 100% getting wrapped in them like a wing burrito!

If it was the noises possibly overwhelming you, I can imagine that the wings would DEFINITELY be an excellent alternative for ear defenders as well as a comfort object, the fluff easily relaxing you.

and if you struggle to sleep after said meltdown, he's softly lulling you to sleep with sweet little whisper songs, as to not overwhelm you with the noises more (even with the wings). what a gentle boy he is 🥹🫶

~ MY FAVOURITE PART. THE SPECIAL INTERESTS. have you seen this man?? those ducks are 100% his, and he is 100% going on rant after rant about them

and you are 100% more than happy listening to him as he drags you into the interest too (MUTUAL SPECIAL INTEREST YES.)

but if you have a singular special interest, he is going to sit there and put every little thing into it as much as he can!!! upset? hes bought you little merch for it. rambling on about how he'd enjoy it too and should watch it? he's booked out a whole day to watch it with you, all snuggled up.

~~~

might do a part 2 u never know

ducky signing out!! 🍎

[hiskillingjar]

Strade with an autistic mc?

One of my characters has low functioning autism. She’s really sensitive to bright, noisy light and cold air. (It could trigger a meltdown). Her special interests are stuffed animals, especially if they’re big and cuddly, and apple slices.

She’s not really great at verbal communication especially when she scared or nervous. She’s good at physical communication tho? Expressions?

Also she’s part tanuki soooo do whatever you want with that.

autism gang rise up

i'm gonna make this a headcanon post cus i've written something adjacent to this for strade before (cw for. strade lol)

ren 🦊

suddenly he is the sweetest boy in the world

like so kind, so patient, so sweet

you're out in public and get triggered by bright lights, loud noises, you have a meltdown? ren is literally dragging you out and making sure you're okay

he's speaking to you so sweetly, so gently, he won't touch you if you don't want him to

he's just so patient with you

kind of like...he's the only person who really understands you? the world is so cruel and mean to people like you...and you're so sweet and gentle, you shouldn't be out there...you should be with me, you should let me take care of you...nobody else will

manipulating king. gaslighting king

to be fair he does win your affection with stuffed animals and like. good sensory stuff. blankets, pillows. got a whole autism nest goin

he'll replace all the lights in the house too

doesn't mind when you stim by touching his tail or ears. it just makes him curl into you that much more <3

and like obviously he's doing this cus he's a horny monster that wants you to depend on him

but he does genuinely just want someone to care for

like even if you can't make eye contact all the time, or if you don't understand what he says or tells you sometimes, he'd still be so patient

he knows you struggle with that stuff, and you're doing your best. that's all he asks for <3

law 🥀

autism 4 autism

law is so autistic, are you kidding.

granted their autism manifests kind of differently though. they got the liveleaks autism, the monotone drawl autism, the twin peaks autism (me too)

but like. providing that you survived the first night (cus they might not be able to stop themselves from just watching you wilt)

they'd be reasonably patient and gentle with you

i mean there's like no prolonged eye contact between you

but you'd communicate remarkably well (with what little you did actually talk)

they know how it feels to be misunderstood after all...and you're so delicate and need to be cared for

they wouldn't. totally understand your special interests (cus they like bones and taxidermy and roadkill) but they wouldn't be able to stop themselves from buying a few soft toys

you just look so sweet and comfortable when they leave you for work, why would they deprive you of that?

they might panic if you started having a meltdown, but they'd eventually clue in and. get you settled down (give them a break, they have meltdowns too)

and like. autism 4 autism...you know there's some sadomasochism happening. good for you! good for you...

strade 🔨

i mean. i've written it so. lol

strade would be such an asshole i'm so sorry

like come on you've come preloaded with triggers and buttons he could push to make you panic and freak out. he couldn't NOT fuck around with you

he might get a little overwhelmed himself by how much he likes fucking around with you. it's just so easy

keep a few bright lights on, play some music too loud, put on the air conditioning, that's all it takes? buddy you are NOT surviving this one

but okay okay. on the concept that you DO survive past the first night (lol)

strade would still be pretty shitty about everything

like he wouldn't yell or be mad at you for meltdowns but he would not understand in the slightest (and you know his ass is not looking anything up to make it easier)

it would kind of be on ren to make adjustments (changing lights, reminding him about your sensitivities) and like. maybe then he'd pay attention to some shit

he's better with your special interests and sensory needs tbh. he might even think it's kind of cute that you infodump when you're excited or curl up with blankets and soft toys

that doesn't mean he's not gonna fuck with you though lol.

also. full german stare at all times. will trigger your conversation sensitivity at all time. he loves it.

[ineffectualdemon]

The levels you get judged as autistic are weird

Because they are based on how well you communicate with neurotypicals (as I understand it, please correct me if I'm wrong) and don't actually cover the autistic persons level of need

Like I got level 1 because I am fairly articulate on a good day and as my husband puts it "you can seem human for roughly the first 15 minutes" (note he is allowed to say this, i find this humor funny and he's also on the spectrum)

I am educated, fairly well spoken, and can fake social niceties if I don't talk or if it's over text. This does not make me better able to take care of myself nor does it make me better than any autistic person who cant do that. I can talk good sometimes. Its just a fact not a judgement on my worth or anyone else's

But it sure is treated that way

I am not able to live independently. I can't handle if I'm asked to change the side of the road from my usual routine much less anything more disruptive. I can't manage my own finances. I have loud meltdowns in public. I visibly stim. Once my timer of being able to human breaks I will invariably say something wildly inappropriate and not understand why it's inappropriate. I can't arrange things for myself because I get flustered and confused. I need support on a daily basis

I cannot take care of myself even if you remove my chronic pain and fatigue.

Sure I could run an errand or go some place by myself before when I was still mobile but there was an over 50% chance of me having a meltdown on the way or once I'm there and needing help

And sure in the past I could go to new places alone ..if my husband took me the day before and walked the route with me and helped me write down very specific instructions and directions and be on the other end of the phone when i break down

Sure was once able to go to new places and events and then immediately get overwhelmed and lose my words and have a meltdown or dissociate in order to cope

And the after affects would mean I'm stressed out and physically ill for days after

Like I'm not saying I need anything like the support of high support needs autistic people

I am able to communicate my thoughts accurately through text most of the time

(not so much out loud. There I vary wildly between considered articulate and screaming with anger because I can't get the words! I know they are there but I can't access them and it makes me angry and no one else understands what's going on or why I'm suddenly angry)

I am aware that is a massive privilege and skill in my possession that allows me to advocate myself in way that is impossible for non verbal members of the communicate

You can advocate for yourself

But not same as me

And that's in my favour and I am sorry

So I try to advocate for you when I can

To have your back

Being non verbal, having intellectual disabilities, any number of factors could mean someone needs more support than me

And I am not saying we are exactly the same

But the fact that I am highly dependent on my husband to survive is just written off as not important because "I speak well"

And that's just a really weird way to weigh it in my opinion

Like yeah I don't seem to them like I should need to be dependent on others to survive but I fucking well am

Idk

The system just seems fucked to me

[gwiyeounsonyeon]

Red

Pairing: cis!Simon Riley x cis!Male Reader

Summary: Reader and Simon try sensory deprivation and Simon safe words

Words: 677

Warnings: brief mention of abduction and torture, just the words no description

Notes: I see how the poll is going so I whipped this up really quick, and nearly had a meltdown because I accidentally deleted it all but thank the lords for notion because It had an update feature so I got it all back. I'm getting sick and tired of Tumblr not putting my posts under the tags, I've been trying to fix this for ages.

if you like my work please support me with either the tip button or visit my kofi page, you can see the pinned post on my blog for more information please look into it.

“Is this… are you sure about this Simon?” Simon's wrists were tied to the headboard above the soldier's head, you were straddling Simon, hovering over the older hips. “I- I mean… I don't want you to feel like you have to do this” Simon huffs in response trying to act annoyed but truthfully he's not entirely sure how he feels about being in this situation, his mind is running miles a minute and he can't get his thoughts to slow down.

Simon keeps picturing all of the times he's been tied up while held captive and tortured, he tries to push those thoughts out of his mind because he's here with you, his wonderful, amazing, and very understanding boyfriend but he just can't do it. Simon knows you would never hurt him on purpose and you're proving that by hesitating and continuously questioning him and constantly making sure he's alright.

Simon thinks he should feel annoyed or happy or something like that but his mind is racing and it isn't giving him enough time to feel anything other than the anxiety and the suffocating sense of impending doom and he knows he should speak up and tell you that he doesn't know if he's fine but Simon is stubborn and has a big ego so he swallows the sour bile creeping up the back of his throat and nods.

You don't look convinced. You give Simon an anxious look before taking a deep breath to settle your own anxiety and then you carefully slide the blindfold over Simon's eyes, plunging him into darkness, and almost immediately Simon is overwhelmed by anxiety. The soldier feels like he's been swallowed up in a void, he can feel your guys’ sheets underneath him, the soft texture you had insisted on, and rambled on about the thread count until Simon got annoyed and shoved the pack into the cart.

The feeling and memory should comfort him but he can't see you he can't see anything, his other senses go into overdrive, Simon swears he can hear the electricity buzzing through the walls and his blood pumping in his veins and he vaguely wonders if this was how you felt every time you got overstimulated. Simon’s so caught up in his head that it takes him a minute to realize that you've been calling his name, he flinches when he feels your soft hand smoothing over the scarred skin of his chest, over his heart.

“… Simon? What's your color? Are you okay?” You sound so worried, Simon can practically picture the worried anxious look on your face and the thought forces him to come to his senses, he's tensed, almost painfully so and his hands are balled into fists so tight that he thinks his fingernails punctured the skin of his palms. Simon opens his mouth to speak, to like and say that he's okay, just a little nervous maybe but all that comes out is a pathetic whimper “red.”

Simon hardly recognizes his voice but before he could get further into his head and get all insecure about how pathetic he feels, the blindfold is off his hands are free and your worried face is taking up his line of sight, you had gotten off of him somewhere in between taking the blindfold off and removing the silk from his wrists. “Baby? Are you okay? What happened?” Simon doesn't know what to say, he doesn't know if he can say anything but you understand, you always understand.

You wordlessly pull Simon to your chest and curl around him, he finds himself admiring the way your bodies fit together like you were made for each other. Simon sinks into your embrace, timing his breaths with yours and listening intently to your heart beating. He hates how much he needs you but he can't find it in himself to push you away, he nuzzles further into your chest, and in turn your grip around him tightens, You don't ask anymore, you don't push him to talk, he’ll do it when he's ready.

[captainsophiestark]

Type A

Caroline Forbes x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2023!

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries

Day 29 Prompt: "That's all? Easy."

Summary: Caroline is a little overwhelmed by the amount of things that need to happen to open the Salvatore Boarding School for its first year of operation, but her SO is there to help her through.

Word Count: 1,056

Category: Fluff

A/N: Disclaimer, I haven't seen Legacies

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Oh. My. God."

I poked my head into the living room cautiously at the sound of my girlfriend's voice. I recognized her tone as the 'something has gone disastrously wrong and I'm about to have a meltdown' tone. I'd run to the kitchen to get coffee for both of us, and apparently in that short amount of time we'd encountered a new problem. To be fair, worse things had definitely happened in less time to us before.

"Babe?" I asked, taking a few more steps into the room. Caroline Forbes, my girlfriend and the love of my life, looked up at me, clipboard in hand and distress written all over her face. "What happened?"

"Ugh, the Salvatores happened!" she cried, throwing her hands up in the air. "I'm pretty sure they spent the past hundred years compelling anybody involved with this house, and now that new people are responsible for billing things like electric, water, gas, and whatever else you can think of, I have to deal with them all at once! And that's not even mentioning the home inspectors. And I still have to organize all the heirlooms they left laying around, just waiting to be broken. Or the fact that not a single bedroom in this place looks remotely like something a kid would enjoy living in-"

"Caroline." I'd set down our coffee mugs and now held up my hands as I slowly approached my girlfriend, stopping her spiral before it could go any further. "Take a breath, babe."

"Take a breath?" she cried, her voice actually going up an octave. "I still have to make decisions about our first class, find teachers, figure out curriculum, make sure the house is actually safe, and a thousand other things before we can open our doors, which we're supposed to be doing at the end of the summer?"

"Pft. That's all? Easy."

Caroline scoffed, her eyes practically glowing as a murderous expression spread across her face. If I didn't know her so well, I might've been worried for my safety. Instead, I closed the rest of the remaining distance between us, putting my hands on her shoulders and looking her right in the eye.

"Listen to me, right now. You are Caroline Motherfucking Forbes. You do event planning in your sleep, and I know that's a true statement, because I've heard it. This shit is right up your alley! Yeah, it's gonna be a challenge, and a lot of vampires with lazy habits are going to make it harder. But you love challenges! I've quite literally never seen you happier than when you're taking charge in the middle of chaos and pulling it all together. And we went to Paris for your birthday."

Caroline huffed and rolled her eyes, but I caught her smiling anyway. I grinned back at her, giving her shoulders a gentle shake.

"You are a force of nature, and there is literally no future where you don't pull this off. I'm not a witch, but I know it doesn't exist. Besides, you're not doing any of it alone. I'm here with you, and so are our friends. We're gonna help you every step of the way to get this school up and running. And we're gonna help you when a kid inevitably breaks some precious historic heirloom, and one of them brings home a curse from touching something they should've left alone, and every other situation you can possibly think of. We'll be here for you to lean on."

Caroline smiled. She took a deep breath, then pursed her lips and nodded, more determined than frazzled now.

"You're right. I am Caroline Forbes, and no centuries-long problem the Salvatores refused to deal with is going to get the best of me."

"Damn right."

She laughed a little, then leaned in to kiss me. We broke apart fairly quickly, since we did have quite a few things left to do, but it was enough to have a warm glow working its way through my chest.

I turned to retrieve our coffee mugs, offering Caroline's to her. Thankfully, they were still warm, and she took hers with one hand, picking up a clipboard with the other. Her eyes scanned the page for a few minutes with a critical eye. I just sipped my coffee and waited, knowing I'd need all the energy I could muster for whatever was about to come next.

"Okay... the bills are easy enough to deal with, so I'll get online and set up autopay for that. In the mean time, you're on heirloom duty. Find anything we don't want in the line of fire for kids practicing their supernatural abilities and put it in the attic."

"Yes ma'am," I said, saluting. Caroline rolled her eyes with a smile.

We started off to do our tasks, but I stopped short before leaving the room. Caroline was already buried in a task, but I took the risk of interrupting her.

"Care?"

"Hm?"

"If we get this done today... any chance we can play interior decorator for our task tomorrow?"

"Sure!" She turned around with a bright smile, a slight edge to it that I recognized and that made me immediately nervous. "And then we can deep clean all the other parts of this house that haven't been touched in years."

I groaned. "Do we have to? Can't we hire a cleaning company to deal with that?"

"Not when vampire speed will get it done at least twice as fast."

"But Caroline, there might be spiders." She crossed her arms, and I realized I was not going to win this fight. I sighed dramatically, turning to go back to the task I'd originally been on my way to do. "Fine, but if I see a spider, I'm screaming and I'm making you deal with it."

"You're an immortal vampire with super speed and super strength!"

"Yeah, and I still hate spiders!"

Her laughter echoed in the room and hallway behind me, and I smiled to myself. I loved that crazy blonde tornado of a girl, and although I complained sometimes and would continue to do so, I'd also follow her to the ends of the earth with a smile.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury

TVD/TO Taglist: @elenavampire21

[aghoststorycomic]

A GHOST STORY HAS (NOT) UPDATED!! THE AUTHOR IS DEAD....TIRED.

TODAY’S UPDATE: HERE START THIS CHAPTER: HERE START FROM THE TOP: HERE

first, because of how flighty i've been with updates, i would like to encourage you to use an RSS feed reader and add the "a ghost story" RSS feed to it by clicking "find feeds in page" or "add new feed" and entering www.aghoststorycomic.com/. or dragging and dropping it if you use a different RSS feed reader. rss feeds are how the ancients used to navigate the web and through it they knew when things updated immediately. using an RSS feed has 2 major benefits: 1. you can get updates without having to use any social media or following my social media. 2. you can keep up with the comic when updates get sporadic without having to hopefully remember to check it some day in the future.

second, i do not like to advertise the patreon when i am behind on rewards and have been unable to deliver anything of interest beyond comic pages for a while, but consider throwing a buck a month at me to see pages a month early. that's something.

i realize that webcomics really need reliability to survive, so i'm genuinely so annoyed and so unhappy that i'm in this situation. i toughed it out as long as i could, but this final leg has been the fucking pits. it sucks. effexor is a notorious nightmare of an antidepressant to get off of and boy were they not kidding. i'm down to a quarter pill doses, but my body is rampaging because i'm not dosing it with the norepinephrine treat its become accustomed to. its never so much that i'm like, in acute physical or mental distress, its just bad enough that it makes working consistently hard. i had a buffer up until this last month when it was completely used up because i was too busy thinking about how bad my entire face hurt. or how my eyes felt like they were vibrating out of my skull.

i started effexor two years ago and was on a pretty high dose. i got the most bizarre and unpleasant side effects on this drug and the reason i didn't do anything about it was because the drug's primary effect was to instill me with a sense of overwhelming apathy. this is a great effect (intentional? i'm not sure) to have when the symptom you were trying to treat was "unbearable anxiety". not joking, it worked incredibly well for at least getting me mentally back to a baseline level of sane. after that, though, with nothing irrational to be apathetic about, my brain decided that household chores, basic hygiene, and my job were pointless and stupid or unpleasant. food tasted bad. not bland, bad. showers felt annoying instead of relaxing. i would look at the dishes piling up in the sink, the barest minimum i should be doing around the house on a daily basis to maintain a comfortable living space and would think "well that is just impossible".

but i was also putting up with a lot of stupid shit from my body. it made my right hand fingers and lower back feel distractingly stiff. my lip was split for a year straight and would re-open every time i opened my mouth. my nose and gums had open sores. i got a rash on my face that lead me down a rabbit hole for months trying to figure out if i do or don't have lupus (i dont)(neat). i would get insomnia so bad i would be up for 36 hours regularly, but i was too tired to get anything done. and with the withdrawals i would get all of those and as an added bonus i got to enjoy body aches that felt like bruises all over my body. they hurt so bad that laying on the couch was uncomfortable as a consequence of newton's third law. and i'd have weird meltdowns about the cats hating me (?). i am only boring you with all of this whining to try to explain the amount of distractions i was fending off while still trying to be a productive member of a household, experiencing common adulthood problems galore (basement....), and trying to create comics for you and for me. i am telling you this because it sucked, and sucks, so bad.

on top of everything else, the impact the effexor has had on my creativity has been eye-opening. i realized there was a correlation between my dosages increasing and my ability to draw nosediving. the "impossible" feeling of the dishes carried over to my comic work which got lazier and worse and i knew it and it was frustrating. there is a special kind of shame and guilt you develop when you charge someone for something you know is not your best work, just the best you could do in the moment. or when you are just sitting in front of your computer staring at it blankly and thinking about how much you'd like to draw if only it wasn't the hardest thing in the world. you feel like a lazy sack of shit, knowing that there is nothing physically preventing you from working. your brain simply cannot make

i started the weaning process in i think november so am pretty much on track for this to actually be over soon. there's light at the end of the tunnel. its happening. and there are bright moments in between doses where i can actually do things. like right now! i drew this very easily instead of being in hell for hours. but these precious moments are short lived until the withdrawal symptoms start up and i have to take another pill that nerfs me.

anyway APRIL 6th! dont forget me or ill cry.

[angeldelights-blog]

Im Autistic

I was diagnosed as Autistic just over a year ago now. I have moderate support needs but I wasn't diagnosed until I was an adult.

I was also given help at school but they just weren't sure why I needed the help. My parents made adjustments for everyday life like cutting out my tags in clothes, having a list of safe food, taking me out at more quite times so I didn't get overwhelmed.

I do a lot of the "sterotypical" traits of Autism but I feel that late diagnosed Autistic people who have moderate or high support needs aren't spoken about often and I guess this is my way of saying how I feel.

My assessment was confusing in the end, level 1 because I speak well but high support needs so basically in the middle. I need a lot of help in my dad to day life. I can't make phone calls without a meltdown but I was assigned a person to help but I can't afford them. Hospitals are funny if you email them even when you explain and having physical disabilities it's a battle to get both needs met. I speak well but most of my childhood I only spoke to my dad and mum about my special interest of communism, sociology and psychology... oh and cats! I still have a special interest in all of these including cats!

I have aggressive meltdowns, I have hurt before and I can't control them. I can't give eye contact and struggle when meeting new people. I need support. I do have a partner and he helps me all the time, he's amazing and supportive and helps me with my dad to day life.

I do stim but I am being taught to redirect my stimming to less harmful behaviours but finding fidget toys that feel right is hard

I use headphones as im sensitive to sound and always have been. This is a huge struggle for me.

I have around 100 squishmallows and soft toys but I wish I could have more but they cost a lot of money and being disabled you don't have a lot of spare money!

The soft toys I love! They feel so good on my skin, so soft and they make me happy.

I also happy flap as I call it, my partner says he knows when I'm happy because that's what I do and I don't even realise I'm doing it because it just happens.

I was bullied so much at school I have PTSD from it... I needed help with my maths as I have dyscalculia and I struggled in making friends so I was put in a group on how to make friends.

It's complex being diagnosed as an adult with higher support needs, not realising that all these people were already doing things in the background so I don't struggle as much.

I feel like I don't fully understand myself and I wish I could hide who I am at times. I wish I wasn't so obvious or didn't shutdown so people think I'm rude. I wish my headphones weren't seen as rude or that in childish to need communication cards or fidget toys. I wish I was seen as normal but I also understand the burden masking can cause for others. My only mask is a shutdown. .

So this is my experience as a late diagnosed moderate support needs adult and I think I'll post more as it was nice to get it all out...

[masterqwertster]

Ashton and/or FCG "I still love you."

I'm going to take this as an "and" because I like FCG and Ashton's dynamic together. Prompt

Ashton opens the door to find Fresh Cut Grass staring at their blue leather coat folded up on the bed. He can tell they're not in stasis by their ocular units' light reflecting off the buttons, though they're unresponsive and still enough to give the impression that they are.

He pads into the room quietly, gently moving the coat aside so he can sit where it laid, right in front of the aeormaton. Grass doesn't so much as twitch. Apparently they weren't really looking at the coat.

A heavy sigh escapes Ashton. They’re not good at this. But they can’t leave Letters to wallow in his first heartbreak. Especially not like this.

Stone arms drag FCG close, wrap him in a hug as Ashton settles their chin upon the top of his head. They shift a bit, trying to find the most comfortable position for hugging Fresh Cut Grass like this. Once they're as comfortable as they get, they wait, hoping that the solidity of their presence will bring Grass back from wherever his mind has gone, ground him.

The silence stretches, and fuck, but he's going to have to start this conversation, isn't he?

"...I’m not good at this comforting shit. You know that," Ashton quietly murmurs into FCG's head wires. "But I'm still here. I still love you."

That gets a reaction. A full-body shudder, banging metal against stone.

"D-don't say that. I... I'm not-"

"And if you want me gone, you're going to have to be the one who leaves," Ashton cuts him off. They don't need to hear what Letters thinks he isn't. Not when they know what he is. "I don't have it in me to leave behind the people I love. Not sure I ever did. So I don't care if you have murderous meltdowns. I have murderous meltdowns sometimes. People snap, because life fucking sucks like that. And it's never going to change the fact that you're one of mine."

They squeeze a little tighter, eliciting another clattering shudder. This one doesn't stop, even as FCG brings their arms up to wrap around Ashton as tight as they can, wheel straining against the floor to press them deeper into his chest.

It takes a moment for Ashton to realize that this is Letters's version of heavy sobbing. He's never seen them do it before. Then again, Letters has never been so distraught around him before.

So he tightens the hug to the point that FCG's metal and joints start to protest the pressure, putting all the care and love he can into it.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fresh Cut Grass doesn't know what to do with all the emotion welling up in them.

It's not the overwhelming stress that clouds their mind until it goes blank, making them a murder machine. Which is really the closest experience they can think of for such an enormous feeling. Though it's still a cloud of negative feeling that they don't want to feel, yet can't hold back.

And then Ashton... They are here and not letting go, even though FCG is a terrible monster whose bad emotions hurt the people he loves. And they won't back down, they never really do.

And-and Ashton promised that he won't leave because they're a monster. And Ashton hates broken promises.

The promise is permission to feel all the bad feelings they're trying to hold back.

Sadness. Guilt. Grief. Despair. Self-recrimination. Pain. So much pain.

And yet, underneath all the negativity, is a solid, gentle warmth. A love that refuses to leave him alone, despite his horrendous deeds.

When Fresh Cut Grass becomes aware of their surroundings again, the overwhelming emotion somehow purged by permitting themself to drown in it for a while, they're still vibrating. But it's not the glitching quiver of too much emotion.

Ashton is humming, and with as close and completely as they are pressed to his chest, the sound resonates through the stone and leather into their metallic form.

He's known Ashton to hum, usually when they're calm and crafting, but this one is special. Fresh Cut Grass hasn't heard this tune since the first night after Ashton found him. The genasi laying near the campfire they'd made, had asked him if he could sleep. It had been easy enough to explain that he had his stasis, which worked much like sleep for soul-touched folk. What he hadn't said was that he was terrified to go into stasis, only to come out of it alone again, his rescuer dead or simply gone. Ashton must have picked up on it somehow, or maybe they'd simply felt like it, and started humming this melody. Fresh Cut Grass still isn't entirely sure how such a simple thing soothed him into going into stasis (he doesn't have to be calm to stasis. It's simply flipping a switch. On. Off.), but it did. And he'd come out of stasis the next morning to a burned out fire and a snoring genasi. Not alone, not anymore.

"I've always liked this song," FCG murmurs into Ashton's chest, tightening the return hug they'd established for a moment. "What's it called?"

Ashton finishes humming a few last notes before answering, "I don't know. I'm not even really sure where I learned it. But... I think it's a lullaby, from when I was really little."

Fresh Cut Grass hums an acknowledgement, snuggling a little closer to his friend.

"Thank you," for everything, he doesn't say.

But he thinks they hear it anyways, because they hug him a little tighter, saying, "You're welcome. Always."

[perplexingluciddreams]

How did you convince your parents start helping you with support as you said before your hair used be greasy lots n s it still like that if not how did you convince your parents help you what would happen if they didn’t

why did they start helping you again if they didn’t before?

This is hard to answer. Partly because my memory is scrambled and not reliable. Partly because it is a bit tough emotional. And also a bit complicated because my different conditions overlap (my main problem with bathing my whole life comes from autism. But then my physical conditions make it hard in other ways because lack of energy, pain, freezing/getting stuck etc.) I will try my best to answer.

I didn't really have to "convince" parents to help. The only reason they didn't help me the whole entire time is because they didn't know how much I struggled. I couldn't communicate that to them. Now that they know, I get proper help.

Mum used to have to "nag" me to even get to the point of getting into the bathroom, taking clothes off, turning shower on. And that was basically as far as I could get with the "steps" on my own. So I mostly just stood under the water for a while then eventually manage to turn it off and get out. Similar thing for if I had a bath, except just sit there in the water until it is getting cold - even harder to know when to get out.

Sometimes I could get soap on my hands and put it on my body. Or even occasionally shampoo on my hands and put it in my hair. But nobody really taught me how to properly wash myself. So, for example, I didn't know that I had to scrub my scalp to get it clean. And didn't know how to properly clean all parts of my body. So I just didn't.

But also I didn't even have awareness that I might be doing it "wrong". I just didn't know. So even if I was able to communicate something like this, I wouldn't have known that I needed to. (Not until later on, anyway).

When I did finally get the realisation that I can't/don't do it "right", I just get overwhelmed and upset every time. Because I didn't know how to fix it. So just cry because I knew I felt itchy and greasy and sweaty and dirty. But didn't know how to make it better. A lot of meltdowns/shutdowns happen from this.

Nowadays my parents know all of this. I can't remember when I explained this specifically to them. Maybe it was through a tumblr post? 🤷🏻‍♂️ I am not sure. Probably it happened in "stages" over time. Not all at once. But now they know it all and so I get proper help.

I think (if I remember correctly) Mum started helping me with bath when my ME/CFS was getting more and more bad. At that time, I hadn't explained all of this yet. But I didn't have energy for bathing often enough - so it was very obvious then that I just couldn't do it (compared to before when I could go into the bath/shower but nobody knew I just sit/stand there and not wash properly).

I can't remember how it progressed to getting the help I have now. It happened over time, I think. As I was able to explain more, and it became clearer and clearer how much I struggled with it.

Now, I have a bath every other day with Mum helping. I have a proper bathtime routine now with the same steps in the same order every time. Mum gives prompts and puts the correct soap in my hands on or my washcloth.

My hair used to be very very long which made it much harder to handle. And contributing to a lot of meltdowns (because of sensory). It used to be greasy a LOT because I didn't know to wash my scalp. And I didn't brush it unless told to, and always wore it in a tight ponytail to get it away from my face and neck. Even when I was sleeping - in the same ponytail all the time. So it got very matted at the back.

My hair is in a buzzcut now. (Much easier for washing and keeping clean. Also so much better for sensory). Dad cuts it for me.

I don't know if this is clear or a good answer because I wrote so much I can't read it back very well. I hope it is a good enough answer. Thank you for saying to take my time (in other ask), that is kind 😊.

I assume this is 🍋? I recognise the writing style. Maybe I am wrong. Please tell me!

[lexr86]

Character intro: Sam Jones

Please say hi to Sam, a sweetheart who's not entirely sure how she managed to fall into dating Eddie Munson but who's definitely not complaining about it. Sam is the autistic main OC of my A Freak and a Weirdo series starting with Cupid's Bow.

Basic Info

Full Name: Samantha Jones.

Romantic/sexual relationship: Eddie Munson, who is her first boyfriend.

Nicknames (courtesy of Eddie): Beautiful girl (or just Beautiful), sweet girl, M’lady.

Age: 17 at the start of Cupid's Bow.

Month & Year of Birth: June 1967.

Gender/Pronouns: Female (she/her).

Sexuality: Straight

Ethnicity: White European

Occupation: High school Junior

Physical appearance and presence

I don't have a strong sense of Sam's physical appearance. It's always seemed less important to me than what's in her head because that's where she spends so much of her time, struggling to figure out society around her. I know she's petite because one of the first images of her I had in my mind's eye was Eddie leaning down to kiss her lips and her unconsciously rising up on her tippy-toes to chase his mouth as he pulled away afterwards. But apart from that…?

Height: 5'4".

Body shape: Hourglass or curvy. She's not self-conscious or proud of her body because it's generally something that she doesn't have to consider so long as it's not in pain or terribly uncoordinated in the moment.

Hair: Brunette, long.

Eyes: Brown.

Fashion/style: She wears her long hair loose as tying it up triggers her sensory sensitivities. She wears comfortably cut clothes made from soft natural fibres (but no wool), e.g. jeans, shirts, sweaters, sneakers. No scratchy tags, makeup, jewellery, tattoos or piercings.

Personality:

Sam is an undiagnosed, unidentified autist. Even she's not aware of autism and ultimately as a teenage girl in the 1980s, a diagnosis simply isn't going to happen.

In addition to autism, I think she's likely to be alexithymic as she often struggles to identify what she's feeling and to read other people's emotions from their facial expressions. This doesn't mean that Sam doesn't feel emotions, just that she doesn't always know how to put a name on what she's feeling in the moment. Often, after she's had a chance to process her emotions, she can identify them better.

Sam is very empathic but doesn't always know how to show it.

She suffers from social anxiety. As much as she masks or camouflages in an attempt to fit in, she's still considered a weirdo.

The understanding that is intuitive to non-autistic characters often eludes Sam, for example, knowing when it's acceptable to break rules. She has to make a conscious effort to learn what most social cues mean, which can be difficult when no-one will explain them to her. She feels a great deal of embarrassment at not getting things right especially when they're things that come so easily to other people.

Struggles/challenges:

Eye contact.

Social interaction.

Reading emotions and understanding motivations.

Bullying, usually emotional, by her peers.

Due to her difficulty in understanding other people's motivations, she can be at risk of being taken advantage of.

Sensory sensitivities, for example, uncomfortable clothes. Music, songs in particular, can overwhelm her.

Emotional overwhelm or dysregulation that can lead to selective mutism, occasional shudowns and meltdowns.

(both a strength and a challenge) Infodumps on topics that interest her, not always realising that other people aren't as interested in this really cool thing.

Coping mechanisms:

Scripting conversations and planning in advance.

Asking for adjustments that will make her feel more comfortable, like knowing in advance where she and Eddie will be going on their first date so she can prepare.

Skepticism and wariness.

Attention to detail and the subtle social corrections from the people in her life even when she doesn't entirely understand them.

Asking a lot of questions and being persistent.

Straightening objects to bring a little order to an otherwise confusing world.

Attempting to project a lack of concern with what other people think of her.

Strengths:

Sam is excellent at logically figuring out processes once she has enough information. It is her fault that most human behaviour defies logic?

She doesn't let her wariness of new situations stop her from doing what she wants to, like dating Eddie.

(both a strength and a challenge) Infodumps on topics that interest her. People get to learn cool new things!

Stims:

Feeling the textures of surfaces and swirling her fingertips against each other.

Whispering words under her breath or mouthing them to herself.

Relationships:

Background: Sam was born and has lived all her life in Hawkins with her parents. Sam's family is upper middle-class and well off financially.

Family: Her mother Marion is not the most engaged mother but she makes a strong effort at supporting her daughter even if she doesn't entirely understand her struggles. Her father Bill works as a high-level manager at one of the local banks. He is often dismissive of his daughter, and Sam believes it's because she doesn't meet his expectations. Her grandparents are alive and she has multiple aunts, uncles and cousins outside of Hawkins.

Closest friends: At the start of Cupid's Bow, Sam doesn't have any friends and she believes, reasonably enough based on the evidence, that she is at the bottom of the social hierarchy in high school. Though it's not mentioned in the story, she used to have friends in elementary school but they drifted away from her as they all aged and Sam's social differences became more apparent. That said, Gareth knows her socially through their parents and both he and Jeff are protective of her. By the end of the story, they and the unnamed freak (who is christened Jim in all my stories - sorry Doug!) are friends with her.

Tastes:

Likes: Clear communication that she doesn't have to decode. Firm touches that she has consented to and tight full-body hugs. When this girl discovers weighted blankets, she's going to buy and entire closet-full! School subjects, like Math and English, even if she doesn't enjoy the parts of school outside the classroom. A long list of words that just feel good to say. I've no idea how to explain this to anyone who doesn't experience it but some words just feel better in my mouth than others and this is an appreciation I made sure Sam has too. Observing logos and icons. Like words, the shapes of things can be really intriguing. Fantasy books, especially ones featuring dragons. Who doesn't like a good dragon?! Horror movies. Trying new foods. Walks in nature. Generally moving her body helps to regulate her, although she's not a fan of sports. Spiders. Eddie's hands.

Dislikes: Being the centre of attention. Physical touch that she hasn't prepared for, and soft touches as they inflames her nerves. Being called Samantha instead of Sam. Surprises. Big, loud parties.

[positivelypositive]

I'm a highly sensitive person. I have some college but no degree. I have insurance but am scared of doctors. I have free therapy though my job but no specialists to see if I have ADHD or autism. I work customer service and have been doing that for over 20 years. When I serve people all day long I don't have much left for myself. I have pmdd and had a bad episode this month that gave me so much rage and now I'm ashamed and crying and feeling overwhelmed. They are going to change the operating systems that are job so none of us will know what we are doing.

I work customer service at a library and there's a machine with a conveyor belt that runs all day that helps to check in people's books. By the end of the day most of the full-time people are extremely disgruntled just due to the ongoing sound. We aren't allowed to wear headphones because we have to answer the phones and talk to the customers.

My boss put two more jobs for me to do while I'm not on a public desk. We get 2 hours off desk and honestly those are helpful to recharge after working with the public but my boss thinks those two off desk hours should be used to do desk work and busy work.

I'm extremely overwhelmed and afraid to advocate for myself for fear I'll look defiant. Ill be there 12 years in April. I feel like I haven't been able to have a personal life since going full time. 🙁

I took two days off from work last week and didn't work the weekend I was hoping I'd be ready to go back today. So I got dressed and drove to work and thought I hit a bird and then had a complete meltdown and then look like s*** and realized I had to be on front desk to let all the customers in. So they saw my face which made me more upset and so I told my boss I couldn't do it today and I went home. I tried to go to the park but I couldn't get out of the car and I looked a mess because I had been crying a lot.

I texted my boss and apologized and told her I was overwhelmed and told her I was sorry for leaving in a hurry. She told me to just take care of myself.

I don't want to take care of myself, I'm already worn out from taking care of everybody else.

I'm sorry this is the most rambling message ever. I don't know what to do.

hey @luckycatsgirl (couldn't tag you for some reason)

i'm sorry you're going through this but please do not apologize for ranting. i want this to be a safe space for people to ramble. you helped me feel needed so thank you for that.

what you've described sounds to me like a panic attack. now, i could be wrong since i'm not a professional but i have experience with panic attacks and would very much encourage you to look into a psychologist or a trained therapist to help you out.

we all know life is tough but we bear it to the point where any and everything becomes overwhelming. it's normal and you're not alone in feeling this way. but getting help will make sure that you live more comfortably.

i know you don't want to take care of yourself because you're worn out but being worn out itself means that you need to be cared for. a therapist or psychologist can help you understand how to do that.

please look into it, dear friend. i will be cheering for you from the other side of the screen. sending you courage and positive vibes 💜✨

[runaway90s]

What Having Autism Means to Me

As I learn to go deeper in unmasking my Autism, I have decided to make a little list of what specifically it means to me in my experience as I have seen it so far.

-I can (and do) focus on something in a very hyperfixated and focused way for a long period of time, sometimes to the point of neglecting everything else in my reality. Something that helps is for me to set timers when I am working on something, or I will literally do it forever.

-I notice patterns in every environment I am in

-I absolutely adore music, and songs are the #1 way in which God communicates to me

-I can match things with their similar energies very easily

-I can channel fairly well and am continuing to develop that

-I don't like talking usually ever unless it's about something very serious and near and dear to my heart or if it's about music or something absolutely hilarious

-I have autistic meltdowns/breakdowns after almost every single day at work. I still haven't found a way to properly support myself in the workplace.

-Stimming is something I do almost all day every day and listening to music and music videos, dancing and singing is one of the best stims of all time (for me)

-Glitter, pink, cats, flowers, and unicorns. All day. All day.

-If someone stands too close to me, I can quite often feel deep rage

-Eye contact is physically painful for me

-My eyes are extremely sensitive to light. Exposure to bright lighting, particularly over a long period of time, causes me to get migraines, sharp pain in my eyes or even go into autistic burnout. I wear sunglasses everywhere I go and enjoy using soft, muted mood lighting, candles or twinkle lights in my living space

-I have had to take many months off of work over the past few years due to autistic burnout and shutdown

-Going inside of grocery stores is deeply disturbing and upsetting to me. I schedule the pickup orders and my roommate picks them up.

-I don't have the capacity to process indirect forms of communication

-It takes me longer than most other people I notice around me to completely process and integrate new information. Sometimes I have to ask for something to be repeated upwards of 5 times before I begin to comprehend it. It's not because I'm not trying to listen. It's because I am totally and completely distracted by every other aspect of what is happening in my physical reality. Perhaps this is actually ADHD?

-I never have ANY clue where to put my hands

-Last minute changes to plans cause me to feel dizzy

-Transitions are not something I can do. Like at all. Without intense levels of deep support.

-I have a deep affinity for and connection with Nature and animals. I'm sure everyone does. But I love to talk to plants and animals.

-I am extremely klutzy and have been this way my whole life, leading to many accidents. I am working on this one a lot though because it is NOT fun. I'm getting better at watching where my feet go when I walk.

-I self-regulate my emotions by watching the same TV shows and movies again and again

-I dropped out of 3 different colleges, and if I could go back in time, I would do it from a place of understanding my own needs and I would get more support

-I should probably start chewing gum or something because I have oral fixation and that leads me to overeating

-My only true regret in life is that I got rid of my pink Honey Girls custom Build-a-Bear that I made at Mall of America last summer (I say this facetiously)

-Pressure and weight are both things that help me a lot. As in, pressure hugs and a weighted blanket.

-I am extremely sensitive to energy. Extremely.

-I can't stand bullshit.

-I enjoy using noise canceling headphones and earplugs when in a crowded or noisy public space. Oddly enough, I love concerts though I sometimes have to step out for sensory breaks.

-Going to appointments whether it be doctor's visits or really just anything where I have to interact with others can be overwhelming and potentially stressful to me if I don't plan it out properly and prepare myself for it. I always bring someone with me to help support me. Traditionally it is my roommate.

-When it comes to driving, I prefer to be in the passenger seat. I get easily overwhelmed when driving, particularly long distances of over 20 minutes. I can do it. I just cut down on it to avoid overwhelm.

-Sometimes if I am in a space where I feel extremely comfortable and relaxed and I unmask completely, I will start profusely complimenting everything and everyone around me, sometimes to the point of making others uncomfortable. I'm not sure why people sometimes get uncomfortable with me complimenting them so much, but I do notice this!

-Textures are everything to me. In the fabric of blankets, my clothing, the food I eat. Textures make or break my day-to-day experience.

-I am easily excitable and frequently hop up and down, leap from side to side, and squeal with delight when I am happy.

-I do not like surprises. If I don't know all of the details of events ahead of time (as far ahead of time as possible), I feel extreme levels of distress and anxiety.