#tw sensory overload

[jotun-philosopher]

@vidavalor

Me? Projecting my own experiences onto neurodivergent-coded characters? No, never. On a completely unrelated note, here’s a comic where Aziraphale has a verbal shutdown for no reason whatsoever.

[serickswrites]

Overloaded

Warnings: captivity, restraints, torture, sensory overload

Whumpee was ready to come out of their skin. They couldn't endure another minute of the blaring alarm, the bright lights, or the rough fabric of the bag over their head. The bag did nothing to prevent the light getting in, it merely scratched their skin, driving them mad.

The rough rope around their wrists and ankles were a distant memory. Nothing compared to the incessant klaxons or the brightness of the lights aimed at their face. Whumper was cruel. They had tied Whumpee up and left them in this state, chuckling as they left, knowing that Whumpee would soon be overwhelmed and overloaded.

Whumpee was overloaded. Their senses were torturing them relentlessly. And there was no end in sight.

Tags: @mousepaw @jumpywhumpywriter @knightinbatteredarmor @piplupfluffwritingstuff2 @anightmarishwhump

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @celestialsoyeon @st0rmm @ay5ksal @pedro-pedro-pedro-pedro-pe

@pepeniascat @sowhumpful @whump-till-ya-jump 

[angstea]

all i am is a man

Fandom: My Adventures With Superman

Series: Whumpril 2025

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Summary: Eyes open. Keep them open. Keep watching, see everything.

TW/CW: Sleep deprivation, sensory overload, self neglect

AN: Written for Whumpril Day 5: Neglect

Title is from Sweater Weather by The Neighbourhood

Read on AO3

Eyes open. Keep them open. Keep watching, see everything.

His nerves buzzed with adrenaline. He could hear the whole city, whole world.

Cries for help needing answering, whispered schemes waiting to be put to a stop. Clark couldn't so much as slow down without wasting precious time. Precious moments could mean the difference between life and death for someone, how could he stop?

So he fought against the fatigue and pushed forward. Always listening, always watching, running on fumes and seconds away from complete disaster.

And when he came crashing down to earth, maybe he shouldn't have been so surprised.

[1kroolkroc]

More Jevil headcanons :D

Source: idk im bored lol

Also, flashing warning and volume warning for some of the videos I've linked

Jevil plays Maple Leaf Rag on the piano at breakneck speed, then transitions it into the fast part of Hungarian Rhapsody no. 2, then throws in a Freedom motif out of nowhere, and transitions it into Slider from Super Mario 64! Then as the cherry on top, he transitions it into a 100,000 note cover of UN Owen Was Her, and in the middle, finish it all off by turning it into the ending part of Battle Against A True Hero! On top of that, he plays an accordion with his feet, a triangle with his tail, the piano with one arm, the trumpet with another, and drums with a pedal

Keep in mind that he does all of this, both to troll the music snobs, and because he's bored, but mainly to troll the music snobs

He calls the Creation from Frankenstein "Frankenstein" on purpose

He intentionally pronounces and spells "mischievous" the exact same way you would "devious" ("Mischievious")

Jevil is a night owl and will stay up until the crack of dawn, then wake up at around 1 to 2 PM

He gets random bursts of energy at night and will pace around the entire dungeon cell, which is part of the reason he has a hard time sleeping at night

He's up to date on memes, but will misuse them on purpose just to see how many people he can make cringe, how hard he can embarrass them, and how quickly they beg him to stop

When he cries, his eyes burst with large waterfalls of tears, he hiccups and sobs very loudly, and his limbs flop like noodles! If you want to comfort him, the best way is to just be there beside him and let him rant

If Jevil doesn't get the joke, he'll crack his own joke instead; nobody has to know that he didn't get it, and nobody ever will know

He doesn't have much people to talk about nihilism with; in his experience, most people are usually either depressingly sad over life's lack of meaning or annoyingly angsty and edgy about it. He doesn't really get to talk to many people about the freedoms that this philosophy provides for him, because people are generally really obsessed with meaning and purpose, to the point where they can't imagine a life without either of those things

If a mind-reader tried to read Jevil's mind, they would immediately be bombarded with a mish-mash of several noises, all of which overlap each other and jump from one topic to an entirely different one, with absolutely no rhyme or reason to any of it, whatsoever! They'd experience a heavy dose of sensory overload and would never be able to make sense of it! Not even Jevil himself can tune out, slow down, or decipher the constant stream of chaos in his head

[cavernclaw]

nightheart reminds me of the boys at my catholic middle school that would laugh whenever i had a panic attack and mock me when i was suffering from sensory overload

[i-may-be-an-emu]

Had a meltdown today, sensory overload at a loud event with flashing lights and people everywhere, and it was an unexpected event too :/

Im feeling better now and i think i handled it well, but I hate being autistic sometimes. I love it. But. Yeah, sometimes.

[genderful-ghoul]

Oh my gods how awesome would it be to vibrationally feel Square Hammer at a live performance (without getting sensory overload so bad you shut down for 16 months)

The only things I remember from Square Hammer at the ritual I attended was being so somatically traumatized I couldn’t even cry and my brain begging to get out but my body was paralyzed, but in an ideal accommodating show being able to actually stim to Square Hammer? 😍

[the11tailedwrites]

Day 3: Solitary Confinement

Character(s): Crow, Lord Saladin, Glint, Anastasia Romanov

A member of House Romanov kidnaps and tortures The Crow.

Crow struggled uselessly against the woman’s hold as she dragged him through ancient halls. He could feel Glint, hidden within his light, panicking, but there was nothing the ghost could do but watch as his guardian was dragged away.

The woman didn’t say a word as she led Crow into a white padded room. Crow could see the chains that hung from the ceiling and thrashed against her hold. The woman, unbothered by his struggling, chained him up with no issues. Crow squirmed against the chains pinning his arms behind him and it was then he realized they didn’t make a sound. He shouted but he heard nothing. Panic began to set in and Crow saw the woman smile as she pulled out a thick metal band. She placed it over his eyes and Crow saw nothing. Panic filled him as the silence rang in his ears. He felt Glint try to reassure him, gently pressing up against his light, but it did nothing to help. He thrashed, screamed, shouted and pleaded, but he wasn’t even sure if he actually was. He could hear nothing. No rattling of the chains, no breathing, nothing. Just pure silence and the deafening screaming it caused. Was he crying? He must be, but he had no way of telling because he could feel nothing. No coldness of the chains or the discomfort of the blindfold. He was completely and totally deprived of all of his senses.

Crow had no idea how long he had been made to stand in that silence. The only reason he hadn’t gone mad was because of Glint. While Glint couldn’t say anything because Crow couldn’t hear him, he could still push feelings to him. It had just barely been enough.

Then suddenly Crow felt and heard everything and he screamed. He screamed in pain from being forced to stand for so long, he screamed in agony as the rattling of the chains echoed in his ears and he howled as his skin burned with the sensation of the chains, of his clothes, of the blindfold and of his tears. Every little movement set waves of pain through his body, every sound echoed in his head and every little sensation drove him mad. His screams were so loud and he willed himself to stop, but it did little to help.

Glint could do nothing now. Being silent was the only way to help Crow.

At some point, the blindfold fell off and the blinding white of the room forced Crow to close his eyes, hyper aware of the feeling of his eyelids closing and pressing against each other.

More time passed but Crow wasn’t sure how much. The woman was back. She was dragging him along. When had they left that room? It was suddenly very cold and he whimpered. The woman smiled at him.

“See, that wasn’t so bad,” she said

She was gone. He was alone. It was cold.

“Hold on, Crow,” whispered Glint, “I’ve called Lord Saladin, we’re on Felwinter peak so he should get here fast,”

Crow didn’t complain, too hurt to really care. Maybe Lord Saladin would kill him. He hoped he would, maybe that would make the pain go away.

There was a figure in his view now. He could see wolves with him. That had to be Lord Saladin. He got closer as Crow’s vision got darker. Saladin must have spotted him because he broke into a run. Crow blacked out before Saladin could reach him.

Saladin had been worried when he got the communication from Glint begging for help. As he walked through the snow of Felwinter peak, he spotted a form lying in the snow. Crow.

The Awoken Guardian was almost completely covered in snow, barely conscious. Saladin broke into a run, his wolves picking up his urgency and rushed with him. By the time Saladin reached Crow, he was unconscious. Saladin picked Crow up and the young Risen moaned in pain, whimpering pitifully.

“Be careful,” whispered Glint, “That woman used sensory deprivation to torture him and then whatever is the opposite of sensory deprivation,”

Saladin nodded and transmatted back to the Iron Temple. He placed Crow onto the nearest flat and elevated surface and removed his cloak and draped it over the unconscious man.

“Any other injuries?” he asked Glint

“No,” responded the ghost, hovering over his guardian

Saladin looked down at Crow as he slept and gently brushed the hair out of his face.

“Keep an eye on him and comm me if his condition gets worse,” said Saladin before rising.

“Yes, sir,” said Glint.

Saladin disappeared deeper into the temple, his mind a whirl storm of thought.

Who had attacked Crow?

[a-girl-writes-stuff]

I'm surrounded by

noise. it's like it's in my head

at this point. get out

[serickswrites]

i have a specific idea that i really want someone to write 🙏

whumpee and caretaker are in a relationship, childhood friends to lovers kind of thing. whumpee is autistic, and obviously caretaker knows everything there is to know about it because they’ve grown up with whumpee.

whumpee gets taken by whumper, and during their time there, whumper takes advantage of whumpee’s specific sensitivities, i.e. touch, unfamiliar environments, itchy clothing, inability to understand micro-expressions.

whumpee gets rescued, and they only let caretaker near them, as caretaker is the only person whumpee can trust. everyone else might want to hurt them. they no longer trust their ability to recognise good intentions from bad intentions, and that terrifies them.

Hey, Anon! Thank you for the prompt. I am going to do my best to capture what you are asking. I have a lot of neurodivergent people in my life, but I can only hope but to capture a little bit of their experience as a neurotypical person. I hope you enjoy this!

Warnings: referenced captivity, referenced torture, referenced manipulation, white torture, sensory overload, rescue, PTSD, anxiety, hospital, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery

Everything was too loud and too quiet at the same time. Whumpee could feel everything. They could feel the normally soft blanket covering their legs, though now they could feel each thread. Could feel the fibers scrape across their skin. They could feel the soft, feathered pillow beneath their head. Could smell each feather. Whumpee felt nauseous. But worst of all, Whumpee could feel their bones. This was not good.

They didn't want to draw attention to their panic. Didn't want to alert the nurses that something was wrong. Whumpee logically knew the nurses were there to help them. But they couldn't be sure. They struggled on a good day to read faces, to understand tone. Today was not a good day.

Caretaker. They wanted Caretaker. They needed Caretaker. Caretaker was the only person they could trust. Where was Caretaker?

For a brief moment, Whumpee wondered if they had dreamed up their rescue. If they had dreamed up being taken to the hospital. That they were still with Whumper.

Whumper.

Whumper was the worst person in existence. They took advantage of Whumpee's inability to read cues. They had taken Whumpee and promised they wouldn't hurt Whumpee if Whumpee could tell them how they were feeling.

Each day, Whumper would sit and talk with Whumpee. Each day they would quiz Whumpee. Each day they would prompt Whumpee to make a guess. Promising that they would never hurt Whumpee because they just wanted to help Whumpee learn.

Each day Whumpee guessed wrong. Whether it was because they were in a new, unfamiliar place and was more anxious than normal, or because Whumper had given them the most uncomfortable clothes, Whumpee could not guess right. They couldn't read Whumper's face. Whumper's tone of voice.

"It is so obvious, Whumpee," Whumper said exposing all of their teeth, their eyes pulled tight, "you can do it. I won't hurt you if you do."

And yet Whumper hurt them. Hurt them for days. The worst was when they plugged Whumpee's ears with something painful and scratchy, covered Whumpee's eyes with something too cold and smooth, and stuffed Whumpee's mouth with the most foul tasting fabric. Whumpee was left in sensory agony for who knew how long. It was torture.

Whumpee could feel their heart pounding in their chest. Could feel their breath becoming more and more shallow. This wasn't real. This was new torture. They had never escaped.

A warm, gently finger caressed their palm. Whumpee's eyes shot open. Caretaker. Caretaker was there.

"I won't touch you, love," Caretaker murmured gently, "I only wanted you to know I'm right here."

Whumpee began to cry. It was all too much. They couldn't even speak. It was too loud. Everything hurt.

"I'm going to have them turn on the shower, Whumpee. We'll stay in there as long as you need. Let's get these itchy clothes off. I got an order to bring your blanket and clothing from home. We'll shower as long as you need and then get you more comfortable."

Whumpee nodded, still not speak. Caretaker was the only person who knew them. Who understood them. Who loved them. Whumpee could only trust Caretaker. Caretaker would help them. Caretaker always helped them. Whumpee hated that they were such a mess right now. Hated that they couldn't regulate themself. Hated that Whumper had used their sensitivities against them. Had hurt them so terribly. Whumpee sobbed harder.

"I'm here, love. I'm not going anywhere. I've got you." Caretaker's voice was quiet and smooth. Caretaker was there. Caretaker had them. They were safe. They trusted Caretaker and only Caretaker. Caretaker loved them. "I've got you, love. It's ok. It's ok."

Tags: @mousepaw @jumpywhumpywriter @knightinbatteredarmor @hufflepuffwritingstuff2 @anightmarishwhump

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @celestialsoyeon @st0rmm @ay5ksal @pedro-pedro-pedro-pedro-pe

@pepeniascat

[beep-beep-robin]

quinni gallagher-jones + common autism traits pt. 2

finally made part 2 to this :)

[lostwhump]

@whumpril | Day #24: Sensory Overload The Boys - The Last Time to Look on This World of Lies (3.05)

[underoospeterparker]

can’t remember if I already sent this in but tasm Peter Parker x reader who has sensory issues and gets overstimulated easily. n him just calming her down, giving her something to fidget with or chew on cause he knows that calms her, getting her into comfy clothes that aren’t scratchy or tight and just taking care of her. asking her loads of questions and giving her options to choose from so she feels more in control of the situation <3 ugh i love him

thank you for requesting!!

tasm!peter x reader / mcu!peter x reader, 0.8k words

tw: overstimulation

You're resting your head in Peter's lap while he tangles his fingers in your hair, scratching gently at your scalp. Peter's friends are sitting on the seats opposite to you, and the two of them are laughing about something rather loudly. Peter glances at you every so often, leans down to press a soft kiss to your temple. Every time he does that, you let out a quiet hum of contentment, press your head further into his lap.

You're exhausted from a long day of school and came home to Peter's friends. You'd given them both a hug when you arrived, but Peter already noticed you were out of it: Your eyes were unfocused, you had this dazed look about you, and you kept fidgeting with your hands, wringing them out.

Peter had given you a concerned look, clearly worried, as if asking 'Do you want them here?' You'd given him a gentle, reassuring smile, mouthed to him that it was fine. You were currently rethinking your decision as their voices grew louder. You began to hear the screeching of the kettle, the scratches your cat was making on the wooden table, the spin of the fan. You could feel your tight knit sweater sticking to your body, and you could hardly breathe.

You forced yourself to take deeper, longer breaths as you curled up in Peter's lap. His hand paused on your head but then resumed its ministrations, as he looked up in shock at something his friend had said. It all sounded like a blabber of words to you: You felt confused; disoriented. The air conditioner was on, but you felt hot. Boiling hot. You tried to pull at your sweater, wanting it off.

You resisted the urge to scream, and to calm yourself down you tried to focus on the ground, on the carpet, but you couldn't: Everything else was far too loud.

"(Y/N)?" Peter's voice cut through the noise. You press your hands to your ears, trying to block out the noise, to soften his words. You turn around to face Peter's stomach, try to hide in his hold. "Sweetheart, are you okay?" His hands reached for yours, helped cover your ears. You looked up through blurry vision, meeting his loving and concerned gaze. Peter tilted his head slightly, searched your eyes for a response to his question. You shook your head slowly in reply, let out a quiet whine as you burrowed yourself closer to him.

Something in his eyes clicks in realisation. He held out a hand to his friends to get them to stop talking; helping you stand up with a hand on your wrist, gently moving you to a quieter room. Peter shut the door behind the two of you, sat you down on the soft comforter. You mumbled something incoherent, struggled to get your sweater off, the tightness suffocating you, making it hard to breathe.

Peter's eyes soften as he reaches for the hem of your sweater, helping you pull it off your head. He squeezes your hand before moving towards the closet, grabbing your comfiest pyjamas as helping you slip in to them with two hands on your shoulders. He doesn't speak until then, knowing you needed to feel comfortable and snug before you would be able to fully converse.

He settled you on the bed, covers not on because he knew you were feeling hot. "Can I get you anything? Your fidget toy? Or your stuffed animal?"

His voice was soft, only a murmur, and you nodded gratefully. "Both, please?" You asked quietly.

Peter presses a lingering kiss to your forehead and untangles himself from you, nodding quickly. "Of course, bug." He returns in under a minute, giving you the two items and watching as you settle down with them. "Do you want me here, or should I go?" He touches your leg soothingly, rubbing a hand up and down.

"Here," I mumble, "please?" Peter melts a little, feels his heart squeeze. He climbs onto the bed behind you, careful not to touch or jostle you too much. When he remains quiet, you add, "Can I have a hug?"

He softens. "Absolutely, honey." Peter doesn't wait another second before wrapping you up in his arms, bringing you closer to his chest. He thumbs at your neck affectionately as you curl up in his hold, wanting to be as close to him as possible. "My poor, sweet girl," he murmurs softly. "You're doing so good. Are you feeling a bit better?"

"Mhm, yes," I say quietly, "thank you." You give him your best, most grateful smile. "Y' the best, baby."

Peter rolls his eyes affectionately against the crown of your head. "Says you, lovely girl."

[a-totally-reasonable-username]

I've always been called sensitive. Physically, not emotionally. After my autism diagnosis i got called that by just about every adult i ever met. For the last years i've been continuously finding out that they were wrong every single time.

I wasn't just super sensitive to pain, my joints were dislocating. I wasn't just super sensitive to touch, my body was in a permanent state of injury. I wasn't just super sensitive, my body wasn't healing even minor injuries the way it's supposed to. I wasn't just super sensitive to food tastes and textures, i was having allergic reactions. My skin wasn't just super sensitive, i was having allergic reactions.

I'm not "very sensitive" i'm disabled and chronically ill. My body isn't working right.

[cryptidwithaninternetconnection]

Update: it’s now the next day and it was my fucking smoke alarm that needed a battery change, and proceeded to wake me up in the middle of the night and cause a panic attack

There’s a terrible screeching sound in my room and it’s causing me to have such bad overload I might just cry and sleep on the couch tonight, it’s a loud shrill screech and I don’t know where it’s coming from it hurts so badly I’m crying it’s so loud it startles me every time it’s so goddamn fucking loud I might cry I can’t type I can’t I can’t I can’t I’m crying it too much it’s so fucking loud my headphones are on map it I hear it through the headphones it’s so fucking painful I’m crying I wanna tell my mom but it’s almost midnight and I don’t wanna wake her up and the dog bc she’ll be mad at me bc it’s her birthday and I don’t wanna make her mad on her birthday but it’s so painful my ears hurt so much I can’t concentrate my throat hurts everything’s too much

[beep-beep-robin]

quinni gallagher-jones + common autism traits

had to make gifs of her again, and felt the need to make a list (does anyone get that feeling?) - so, i combined both and more gifs are incoming soon-ish <3