#autistic!reader

[airbendertendou]

a small compilation of moments between autistic!reader + connor happy disability pride month <3

anon requested : hi! i was wondering if you could do something with connor and the autistic reader and like them going nonverbal and how he would handle that? You don’t have to do it if you don’t wanna! :)

please do not use this as a way to self-diagnose. having one thing in common does not necessarily mean you are autistic. im not a therapist or doctor, if you think you’re on the spectrum, talk to them. <3

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.

temperature irregulation ♥︎

hank was a firm believer in a cold house. when the summer season came and brought a heatwave with it, the older man wouldn’t allow anything other than a brisk, chilly living room.

it was often you’d come over to go over old cases and study with hank. interning with the detroit police department was fun — the academy, however, you could live without. you’d learned to dress warm when visiting hank’s house, having a hard time warming up once you were cold.

“here,” a thicker sweater is placed over the couch, the sleeve laying on your shoulder. you take it without thought, swapping your thinner one for the new one. connor smiles at the pattern on your fuzzy socks, the sight of your toes curling in delight at the warmth bringing something tender to his brain. “better?”

you nod with a hum, “thanks, detective.”

hank rolls his eyes, hiding the curl of his lips at your obliviousness. “anyways, as i was saying—”

[interrupted] routine ♥︎

every day at 12:10 pm, you’d wander into the breakroom for a snack and drink refill. connor didn’t mean to memorize your specific regimen — but after watching you do the same thing for a week straight, it stuck to his mind.

you loitered in the doorway to the breakroom, peeking in occassionally to see if it’d emptied out any. gavin caught your gaze, rolling his eyes at your hesitance. it was then you spotted the mug in his hands — your mug, the one you always used. your frown deepened.

connor budged his way into the crowd, bumping into gavin and causing his drink to spill. every curse leaving the human’s mouth went ignored — connor only watched as you cowered away from gavin’s angry steps as he left. grabbing the dropped mug, connor rinsed it four times before holding it out to you shyly.

you crept into the breakroom, grabbing the handle of the mug and shooting the android a thankful grin.

stimming with pressure ♥︎

hank opened the door to his house with a sigh. connor’s eyebrows furrowed as he tilted his head, questioning the elder silently. hank leans against the door, “[name]’s been here a while, s’all. won’t leave my bathtub.”

a safe zone, connor concludes, somewhere small and compact ; where you could see every corner and every threat. he makes his way to the bathroom without another thought, pausing at the sight of you.

your eyes are closed, face crumpled in displeasure as you clench and unclench your fists in a pattern. connor knocks on the door, announcing his presence without startling you. your eyes fly open, “hello, detective.”

“you can call me connor, if you’d like.” the android steps further into the bathroom slowly, allowing you to object if you need to. your eyes stay on him — his thirium pump stutters in his chest. “anything i can do to help?”

taking in a deep breath, you puff your cheeks as you release the air. “maybe. if you don’t think it’s weird.”

connor stares down at you, his upper lip curled in hesitance as you lay in hank’s bed. you adjust yourself, wiggling around until you’ve splayed your limbs where you want them. you blink up at him, “well?”

“it is a little... strange.” connor tries to be nice, he really does. but asking an android to lay on you — to put their full weight on you — he’s concered. “i will crush you.”

you roll your eyes, “i have a weighted blanket at home ; it’s no different.”

“i weigh quite a bit more than—”

“are you going to lay on me or not, connor?”

maybe it was the sound of you saying his name for the first time ; maybe it was the way you looked so defeated. whatever it was, connor found himself laying on you as gently as he could. the relaxation was immediate — he could feel the breath of relief you let out ; the way your body sagged.

you fell asleep that way — with connor holding his breath and tensing up the closer you got.

sensory overload ♥︎

the scene you were going to was a lot. it was nighttime now, the sirens and flashing lights bringing everyone’s attention this way. hank leaves the car first, grumbling as he goes. the sound that leaks through his open door causes you to whimper.

connor turns his head to you, “everything alright?”

your gaze hasn’t left the window as you squint, blinking at all of the lights. you gulp before biting your lip. “i’ll be fine. this is what i signed up for.”

you’re barely out of the car and already wincing at the noise and the lights. you can’t see hank ; can’t hear or understand anything being said around you. the world is blinking in hues of red and blue, wailing sirens going off with every flash of the lights.

the sound grows muffled as soft and sturdy hands cup your ears. a thumb moves from your ear briefly, just long enough for you to hear a whisper. “close your eyes and i’ll lead you into the house. that’s where the lieutenant is.”

trusting connor’s words — a little too easily — you squeeze your eyes shut. your hands go up to cover his, sealing your ears from the harsh sounds around you. stumbling a little here and there, you eventually feel a difference in temperature as you enter the house.

letting out a sigh, your shoulders moving with the motion, slowly your eyes peel open. you glance at connor, ignoring the tenderness of his gaze. “thanks, connor.”

he lets out a deep breath, ignoring the sly grin hank sends his way. “no problem, [name].” 

verbal shutdown ♥︎

it happened so quick. your safe foods had vanished from their designated cabinet ; your chair’s wheel was squeaking incessently ; hank hadn’t shown up today. everything was piling on and you finally exploded.

the evidence locker was empty as you shakily typed in hank’s password. you hit the wrong button a few times, squeezing your eyes together at the little beeps. your breathing picks up — you hold it in your chest and shake your hands, releasing the tension built inside you.

you all but crawl into the secure room, your back hitting the wall as you sit down. your eyes squeeze shut again and you go through the motions, choosing the less destructive ways to calm yourself down.

none of them work.

when connor finds you, you’re drawing shapes on the floor with your finger. you’ve curled into yourself, not making a sound ; your usual means of comfort absent from your lips. he walks to you cautiously, “[name]? hank has returned. he’s asking to see you.”

you don’t move ; not a sound falls from your lips. connor sits in front of you, crossing his legs as he waits. from his suit pocket comes a ring of multicolored notecards — your eyes flash to his at the sight of them. connor holds them out further so that you can see them properly. “want to use these?”

a miniscule nod, but it’s enough to make him smile. “alright,” he flicks through the blue cards — feelings. stopping at your set of upset verbs, he slides the ring your way. “any of these describe how you’re feeling?”

a shaky finger hits the word overstimulated before dragging over to panic. connor nods, flipping to the pink set — solutions. “what do you want to do? go home ; nap ; have a snack ; get your puzzle book ; coloring book...” connor holds them up to you, reading out each one until you nod — except you don’t. pausing, connor speaks up again, “want me to leave?”

you shake your head. slowly, your hand crawls across the floor until it meets his. you nudge his hand, curling your fingers under his. connor holds his breath, adjusting your fingers until you’re holding hands properly. his eyes stay to the floor, “this is okay, too. let me know when you’re ready to leave.”

emotional regulation ft. lots of crying ♥︎

“connor,” your voice brings him out of his work. standing beside his desk, connor watches as you sway side to side. he tilts his head and it makes your eyes water. “i’m going to cry.”

that was his cue to take you into his arms. connor stands to do so, gathering your body against his and rocking you side to side slowly. your body hiccups a few times, sniffles leaving your nose occassionally. you seem to calm down even more as he rubs your back soothingly — connor’s led light flashes yellow as he stores that information for later.

you pull away with a deep breath, rubbing your face with the hoodie you’re wearing. connor frowns, “better?”

you nod, “needed that. thank you.”

“want to tell me what upset you? only if you want to.”

connor never knew what to expect your answer to be. sometimes you just shook your head and snuggled close to him again. other times, you did talk about why you were crying and it made connor realize the extent of human emotions. 

“no more chocolate in the snack cabinet.”

“had a nice dream.”

“hank is wearing yellow.”

“it’s such a pretty day today!”

“too much noise.”

“gavin cut his hair.”

you let out another sniffle, lips pouting in thought. “not too sure this time. jus’ felt like i needed to cry.”

connor nods to himself, his led light whirring yellow once more. “i’m glad you feel comfortable with me, [name]. i’ll be here if you need another cry.”

you grin, meeting his eyes for a brisk second before reaching out to hold his hand. you swing your entwined hands lightly, grin softening into something gentle. “i know. thanks, con.”

the detective was sure he’d implode because of you soon. just not yet — not when you’re still holding his hand.

——♥︎—— for some reason my brain tells me to only write autistic readers n pair them w connor. like?? work w me here!! anyways. i hope this was okay, remember to take your meds, drink some water and have a nice snack!! airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.

#connor imagine #connor x reader #dbh connor x reader #dbh connor imagine #autistic!reader #autistic reader #dbh x reader #detroit become human imagine #detroit become human x reader #connor headcannons #connor drabbles #dbh drabbles #dbh imagine #detroit become human drabbles

[urhoneycombwitch]

reader hanging out at Eddie's house with him and it's all fine and dandy but their clothes are just driving them nuts. Like either their jeans are digging uncomfortably into their waist or their bra is just killing them and it's just nagging at the back of their mind until they snap like, "Eddie, I can't do this anymore."

which is a terrible choice of words to suddenly blurt out because now he's panicking like did he do something wrong? You just want to break up all of the sudden?!

and reader's like "No! please can I take my pants/bra off." because they don't want it to be weird that they're just getting undressed at his place (I figure this is probably early days tbh because after a while, r just walks into his room already taking off whatever's uncomfortable)

and Eddie's brain is spinning from the whiplash of thinking he was getting dumped to Oh! Boobs/Legs!

this feels very autistic!Reader coded👆😍

like totally breezing past the fact that you just accidentally delivered the worst news of your boyfriend’s liiiiife because you can’t THINK with how tight the band of your bra is

and while Eddie sputters and chokes on his words like “w-what?! what did I do? 😨” you’re reaching into your shirt to get the clasps of your bra off, sighing with relief as soon as it loosens

“sorry, not you- I couldn’t deal with this.” your bra comes out of your t-shirt sleeve with one smooth pull, like a neat party trick, and you dangle it by its strap on a pointed finger. “sorry, handsome. didn’t mean to scare you.”

Eddie’s adrenaline is spiked again but this time blood travels south, ‘cuz he’s taking the bra from you and laying it neatly over the back of the couch with a gulp. “uh- yeah. yep. sure. all good 😳”

just full staring at your breasts which are now way easier to see through just your flimsy shirt material.

and you’re like “well 🙂 at least you’re being subtle about it like a gentleman.”

#lmaoooooo #he’s trying okay #eddie munson x reader #lu’s anons #eddie munson #e.m. thots from lu #Eddie Munson x autistic!reader #autistic!reader

[writingficsanddaydreams]

Worried Thoughts

Mihawk x gn!reader

Summary: he thinks you’re afraid of him, but really you feel more comfortable here than anywhere else. If only you could figure out how to explain that.

Content: fluffy cozy piece. Just a hint of romance. Reader is autistic.

Warnings: reader is somewhat insecure about their autistic traits.

A/N: Couldn’t get this idea out of my head, so I’m sharing with all of you. It’s been a long time since I wrote any fanfic so I might do more, I might not, we’ll see. Story is based on live action Mihawk with some inspiration from the little bit I know about the anime. Enjoy!

—————

He’s frustrated with you.

He doesn’t let it show. Mihawk is too controlled for that, too stoic. Besides, you’ve come to learn the look of casual disdain he wears is for everyone, not just you.

But he’s still frustrated with you.

You can see it in the little things. The slight furrow of his brow. The way he watches you over his book. The long, drawn out sips of wine.

It’s the things you’ve learned to look for after a lifetime of having to watch and analyze and try so hard to fit in. A lifetime of trying to be normal.

Around Mihawk though? You don’t feel that need so much.

It’s why you let your eyes drift away from his intense, piercing gaze. It’s why, though you’re still afraid to let yourself stim too much or let too much excitement shine through when a special interest topic comes up, you do let yourself chew on your lip. And sometimes, when you catch yourself rocking because the silence is just a little too much, you don’t make yourself stop.

But still, he doesn’t quite understand it. He thinks you’re afraid of him.

You should be. Honestly you’re not sure why you aren’t. He’s the worlds greatest swordsman. He’s probably the most powerful person in all the seas. He wears that power like a cloak, holds himself in a way that warns people to step away. Step back.

You saw it in the village last week, when he had you sail with him to a nearby island so you could help pick up supplies. Folk recognized him and feared him.

To be honest, you thought he would leave you behind there. After all, he has no reason to keep sheltering you. It’s been a month since you washed up on the beach of his own gloomy island, a month since you barely evaded the monsters that live there and found your way to his door.

He let you stay, and you figured it was because of how pathetic you looked at the moment. A shipwrecked survivor on the brink of death, looking more like a drowned rat than a human.

It’s not that you’re actually pathetic. You’re not weak. Or at least not too much so. Honestly, you can hold your own against most folk back home, and you know how to sail a small ship just fine. Or at least, you thought you did.

That storm wounded your pride and has you questioning your seafaring skills.

The point is, you can take care of yourself overall. Though, you quickly learned after you first set sail a few years back that being the best in your village means nothing when so many folk out there are as powerful as gods. Competent or not, you’re nothing compared to the great warlord.

So why did he let you stay? Why was it, when you were getting ready to turn and walk away after setting foot on the village island, he handed you a small crate of supplies and said to not fall behind? Why was it he let you get back on his ship and sail all the way back here with him? 

You haven’t asked him yet, because you’re a little afraid that maybe he’ll change his mind. You’ve come to like your life on this isolated island.

But you’re getting away from yourself again. Letting your thoughts drift. It’s been a week since that village visit and now you still sit within Mihawk’s vast and rather chilly castle, hyperaware of his piercing gaze digging into your head.

“You don’t need to be so afraid of me.”

His voice makes you jump, and you realize that you’ve been rocking where you sit as you stare at the book in your lap.

“I’m not,” you manage. “I…”

Your eyes latch onto the book. You’ve been reading it for a couple of days, but you’re having trouble focusing today. Whenever you look at the words, it makes you think about how yesterday you launched into a long analysis of the adventure genre and how it really is such a shame that people don’t appreciate this book as much, since even though it was one of the first of its type there’s been so many books that have built on it since that now it seems almost predictable.

Mihawk didn’t seem bothered at the time, but now you look back at it and you’re sure he must’ve been annoyed, or at the very least bored. You’re still kicking yourself for not taking the time to check his expression when you went on that endless monologue.

“You act afraid.”

You take a quick peek out the corner of your eye, watching as he casually sips from his wine glass. Firelight flickers across his face, lighting up those vivid eyes and casting a golden hue across his dark hair. He’s not looking at you anymore, but you know that he’s still aware of everything you do.

When you find your attention catching on his chiseled chest, you quickly force your gaze away.

“You are a warlord,” you say, trying to be teasing.

“An astute observation.”

“I’m not afraid of you though.” You close your book and with it close your eyes, trying to find the right words. Trying to get them all untangled. “I… I just don’t like eye contact. With anyone.”

“I see. That is reasonable.”

It’s not the response you expected. You’re used to people judging you when they learn how are you are. You’re used to people underestimating you and assuming the worst.

You glance back up at Mihawk, then quickly away to the fireplace instead. “I’m not very good with people,” you continue, “It’s not that I don’t like them, but I don’t always understand the rules of society and stuff. And I don’t always do things the way other folk do.”

When you peek back, he’s lifted a single eyebrow. You blush. Surely he’s already noticed that. Surely you’re being silly as you explain the obvious.

“The rules of society do tend to be rather boring.”

The way he says it, so straightforward as if it makes all the sense in the world… you feel relieved giggle bubble out of you.

“I suppose you really aren’t afraid of me then,” he says, just the slightest twitch forming a smile at the corners of his lips. He tilts his head slightly, then adds. “I was thinking about your theory yesterday. It was… Intriguing.”

Something flutters in your chest. A feeling that you never really thought you’d have for somebody so dangerous. Joy. Excitement. Perhaps even some infatuation, if you’re being honest with yourself.

His castle might be vast and chilly, but it’s also comfortable. And you’ve come to truly enjoy these times where you sit together in front of the fireplace, simply existing near each other. You’ve come to enjoy just being around him. 

“Would… would you like to talk about it more?” You can’t help the hope that creeps into your tone.

“That would be pleasant.”

And so, you finally let that wall down just a little further. You let yourself start talking without holding back, let yourself feel comfortable.

When he rises from his chair and walks to stand closer to your own, his hand just barely brushing your shoulder, you let yourself feel a little bit at home.

#Mihawk #mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk #one piece mihawk #Help im so in love with this character #autistic!reader #proofreading I don’t know you

[soulscryer]

I’m not sure if I’m doing this right I’ve never done an ask before. Would you consider writing an autistic! fem reader x tasm! Peter Parker please? Maybe like they go to a place that’s focused on her special interest? Or her stimming? Or sensory overload and he’s trying to help her stim in a way that doesn’t hurt herself? No pressure either way, just wondering. Thx 🫶🏼

you wrote this wonderfully love, thank you for the request <3 i hope this is to your liking

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!autistic!reader ༊ 1.5k

cw: overstimulation/sensory overload, harmful stimming/skin-picking, reader has mean thoughts about themself/their disability, maybe some not-so-great friends

You could still see the mixture of expressions on your friend's faces when you decided to leave early. The pity and concern for your state, telling you to text them when you arrived home. And the relief—you’d excused yourself quietly, you hadn’t fallen into a meltdown, and you hadn’t asked them to go with you.

You had wound yourself up tight to steer clear of becoming an inconvenience to them

It had worked.

They would be on their way to the author meet and greet to get their books signed. Already there, even. While you hadn't even made it through the coffees beforehand.

It was all so unfair.

For the past few weeks, you had been strung with anticipation. The knowledge that you were going to meet the author of one of your favourite book series and have them sign a copy had buzzed in your veins. But no—your brain had to work against you, your body had to protest an ability to regulate itself.

Now you were sat in the dark, curled up atop your bed, a weighted blanket thrown over your head to encapsulate you in solitude. All without having attended the awaited event.

It was unfair, cruel, and wrong.

And everything was so loud.

Had your quilt always made a scratching sound when your arm rubbed against it? Did the floorboards in the apartment above yours always creek even with the softest footsteps? When had the fridge started humming so loud you could hear it through the closed bedroom door?

Why wouldn’t it all shut up?

You had already switched off all the lights to cease the burning in your eyes, and the humming their wires made. Your phone was dead too—you couldn’t stand to hear the buzz of the charger as it worked.

Perhaps it was wrong to let your phone lie dead. How were you to contact anyone if something were to happen? How were they to contact you if there was an emergency?

It didn’t matter.

There weren’t any emergencies. Your blinds were drawn closed, your eyes were squeezed shut, and your body was coiled inwards. You were nothing but a small dot on a very loud planet where time was all too slow and so very quickly all at once.

“Angel?” he whispered in a murmur that was right there.

Even without touching you his warmth radiated into you through the thick blanket. His presence was all-consuming as he stood over you.

“Are you asleep?”

If only. Perhaps then your brain would be quiet. Or maybe the world would be. It was hard to tell which was causing you more pain. Both, perhaps. The world—society, refused to accommodate people like you.

“It’s too early to sleep,” you murmur through a mouth that feels stuffed with cotton.

His foot shuffled on the floor. “It’s almost midnight,” Peter says. “Do you know how long you’ve been under there?”

Perhaps if you weren’t a battery leaking all its charge your eyebrows would pull themselves together and your lips would purse. But your face stayed frozen in its dead expression. All you could muster was to heavy-handedly push the blanket away from your face to glare at the curtains.

No sunlight tried to seep out from under them. The bedroom was entirely dark now, a cloud of inky black that began to soothe a persistent ache in your head.

“When did it get dark?”

Peter inhales sharply. At your question, or maybe you look as bad as you feel. It would’ve been more enjoyable to drag yourself through a hedge attached to a run-away dog.

“Around six. I didn’t know you were home—I would’ve come back if I’d have known-”

“That would have sucked.”

Your words were as blunt as a well-used pair of scissors.

“I think this is one of those situations that sucks either way,” Peter suggests. “At least I could’ve dealt with some of the sucky-ness too.”

Rolling your head to the side, you looked up at him.

His mask was discarded somewhere out of your sight, the rest of him clothed in his spandex vigilante suit. His hair stuck up in odd directions like he had run his fingers through it recently.

What ached was the exhaustion lining his face.

Did you do that? Or had it been a rough patrol?

You had to be contributing either way.

He must’ve wanted to come home and collapse into his bed, and sleep deeply before he had to get on with his dual life again in the morning. Not find you curled up in the centre of it all—a dazed mess who wasn’t even entirely sure how long they’d been there.

“You were busy,” you tell him. “Was it busy?”

Peter shakes his head. “They all seemed to lack brain cells tonight. A pity, really, I was using some of my best quips.” He smiles as he speaks and you wish you could reciprocate.

“Like what?”

“I dubbed one guy ‘Elvis’. It was the hair.”

You nod your head slowly. “Swooshy?”

“Very.” Peter lowers himself down to sit on the edge of the bed, reaching a hand under the blanket to encase one of yours. It's cold when he pulls it into the open air, toying with your fingers. “I take it you didn’t go to the book signing?”

Your lips do pinch together then and he nods.

“Did anyone bring you home?”

He’s not going to like it. Peter glances over his shoulder at you as you shake your head. And it’s like igneous rock the way his eyes seem to harden for a moment. Then they turn molten again, drifting over your face with a sincerity that could turn you to ash.

“And you’ve been lying here for at least half the day?”

“Has it been that long?” you ask groggily.

“Presumably,” Peter sighs. “Where’s your phone?”

“Dead.”

He hums. One of his fingers smooths over the tip of one of yours and a burning sensation begins. Unthinkingly, you jolt your hand away from his, but he’s quick to reclaim it. This time it's his lips on your skin.

It still burns. But less.

“I didn’t realise I was picking,” you tell him apologetically. More sorry for the fact you did it than that you did it to yourself.

Peter has always seemed to have an inability to be disappointed with you. But that doesn’t mean you don’t fear the day he is. Even for something as small as picking at the skin around your fingers until they’re raw and bleeding.

In a mildly masochistic way, it grounds you. You don’t realise you’re doing it until it’s too late, but the feeling distracts you from other feelings inside of you. If you’re feeling something outside of yourself, the inside feelings become lesser.

It’s better than the way you used to hit your thighs and whack your head on a wall.

“We’ll get some aloe and band-aids on them,” Peter says, reaching for your other hand. You offer it up, knowing the damage is done now. “At least you didn’t pick your face too.”

No. That you didn’t do, at least.

“My fingers are going to be sore tomorrow,” you frown. You focus on the feeling of his skin against yours instead of the burning at the tips of your fingers.

“We can make them better.”

It’s impossible not to sigh then.

He always says that. We. We can make it better.

As if it was his problem that you were unable to regulate yourself properly. Instead ending up a burrito in blankets, hiding in darkness, finding ways that are ultimately damaging to fight through your waves of emotions. And the heaviness of the outside world.

“Peter,” you whisper.

“Pretty girl. Let me take care of you.”

“Pete.”

He twists, bending one leg beneath him so he’s facing you. If you were less boneless you would move over so he could properly sit on the bed.

The thought dissolves as his lips press to your forehead. The crease at the side of your eye. Your cheek. Your nose.

It’s a deep breath of clean air as the world goes silent when his lips glide against yours. He’s still holding both of your hands in one of his, the other keeping his weight from collapsing down onto you.

“Don’t argue. We can have a bath, I’ll sort your fingers, and it’ll all be fine.”

A harsh breath of air draws itself from you. “I’ll fall asleep in the bath.”

“I’ll be right there. I promise not to let you drown.”

Your eyes narrow. “That would be very un-Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man of you.”

“Extraordinarily. Do you want bubbles?” He asks against your lips.

“Unscented ones?"

He shrugs like it’s a given. “Stay here and look pretty while I run the bath, I’ll be back in a minute.”

And you freeze, making a mockage of his instruction to stay. You aren’t so sure if you look pretty, not with the carnage you feel inside, but if he says you are then you won’t argue.

Peter has a habit of getting pouty when you argue just how pretty you are.

#autistic!reader #tasm!peter #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter parker fic #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker x fem!reader #tasm!peter x fem!reader #tasm!peter parker x y/n #tasm!peter x y/n #tasm!peter parker drabble #tasm!peter drabble #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x fem!reader #spiderman x reader #spiderman x y/n #spiderman x fem!reader

[heavencanbeaprisontoo]

Strip Me to My Bones

Slowburn!Tommy x autistic!fem!reader Prologue: An Odd Woman

Summary: Tommy meets you in 1919, the beginning that feels like an ending in hindsight. Among betting men there is a vibrant culture of superstition and mysticism. It was in this industry you found your trade as a “psychic,” and met a man with a Red Right Hand.

Warnings: Period-typical sexism, contextual use of g-slur, Canon-typical violence, author is autistic, spoilers for series one possibly, slow burn, Tommy is shallow and confused at first. WC: 1.6k

1919 was an odd year for Mr. Shelby. His eyes were still bright, the boy who died in the tunnels still clung to his ankles as he stalked the roads of Birmingham. In those days, Tommy was still starving for money. For any sort of gain in power. He still slept on an old mattress with his drug of choice within reach. He still delivered his horses to mystics and magicians to psych out the competitors of the next day’s race. It was this Thomas Shelby who brought himself to the door of your flat. You, the newest little medium in Small Heath.

He had heard many things about you. How you seemed to just “know,” things. You weren’t gypsy, but there were whispers that you could see inside hearts and minds like no other. For a reasonable fee, you would read a person like a book tell them the next chapter of their life without hesitation. He was not normally the sort to seek your kind out. Thomas Shelby could see ahead just fine without the guide of psychic, genuine or charlatan in nature. Until, of course, a crate of guns came into his possession and an Irish woman sang to him from atop a table. Even the devil needs direction, sometimes. 

That morning, the devil had sought you out.

Your flat looked the same as any other. There were green vines and a purple curtain blocking his view inside your window. Plain bricks on the outside. Gutter hanging off slightly from your roof. Thinking it best to just get it all over with, he knocked. You answered. And he froze.

When he first saw you, there was nothing extraordinary about you. You didn't wear a silk turban or line your eyes with black to convince your customers of some supernatural gift. You were just a young woman dressed comfortably in her little flat. A long, thick robe suited for the winter chill was tied around your body and sensible slippers on your feet. Nothing overly frilly or fanciful. Tommy would almost call your presentation "dowdy." However, what had made him freeze were your eyes. He knows the power of his own stare. Your stare was something truly unique. It was something he couldn’t quite put into words. The color of your eyes was not exceptional, nor the size of your eyes or their shape. There was a force behind the stare that had him fixed to the spot. The sound of your voice was all that put him back into the world.

“Can I help you?” your tone is flat, but he can’t decide of its intentional.

Tommy takes a glance from the corner of his eye to ensure there are no onlookers. The roads are empty. He looks into your eyes once more and says, “You see the future, I hear.”

“I see people, for a price. Not the future. Nobody can do that. It’s rather early, so I hope you’ve got money in that big coat,” you step aside to let him inside. He almost hesitates. Second thoughts are not something Tommy likes to entertain. To falter, to ruminate, is to dance at the edge of cowardice. Tommy pushes onward and crosses the threshold of your home. Thus begins the start of a most unusual affair.

The lighting was dim in your little flat, and on the walls were dozens of shadowboxes were every assortment of insect on display. In fact, nearly everything in your home appeared to be some sort of collection. Orderly in their presentation but crowded due to lack of space. All the furniture looked inherited rather than new, but that was typical. There was the scent of lavender and cedar in the air. As he passed by two sticks of incense burning on the mantle of your fireplace, he found the origin of the fragrance. 

‘No trace of any other resident in the home. No husband. How modern’, he thought. As he made his observations, Tommy was painfully aware of your eyes on his back. You guided him silently to a small room with two sofas facing each other. He sat opposite to you, not bothering to remove his cap. As you sit across from him, your eyes are everywhere but him. Roving about the room as you tap your thumb to the tip of each finger on your hand. By the way you were sitting, someone just entering the room might assume you were a guest by how stiff your posture was. Back completely straight, both feet firmly planted on the floor. This was your home, your time, and Tommy looked more at ease sitting on your own furniture. 

“I normally have tea prepared, but you don’t drink tea anyway, so I won’t bother with the kettle this time,” you say as your bottom hits the sofa cushion. He hears you. He hears you make a correct assumption about him, but he does not show his acknowledgement. 

Tommy threads his fingers together on his lap, “They say you can see inside of people, tell them things about them that even they don’t know.”

Blinking owlishly at him you reply, “My, that’s a lovely review of my services! Should put that on a sign outside my doorway. Though I would rather know why you came to see me, Mr. Shelby. You are Mr. Shelby yes?”

“That I am,” he nearly laughs, “and I am not entirely sure why I came to see you either.”

Your eyes snap onto his own and again he feels caught off guard by it. Slowly, you lean forward, “It’s not like you to need help. You avoid seeking it. Something has happened to you that has never happened before, you do not know how to carry on because you cannot fall back on learned tactics to navigate the storm.”

He says nothing. Tommy finds you don’t require his input to carry on speaking as you tilt your head and continue. As you speak, you never break eye contact. Your gaze is one that leaves him feeling stripped to the bone. Flesh peeled back and pinned so that you may inspect him further with an objective, curious eye, "One of the walking wounded, soldier come home from war. You don't sleep well. None of you do. But, you hide it better than most."

"Quite the assumption," he deadpanned.

You carry on as if not hearing him, “A Catholic without Christ. Guilty but without remorse. You only follow yourself and yet you have lost faith within. So, you act out of your own character to try to find a solution to a problem you’ve made yourself. A problem with solutions you can't commit to.”

Tommy’s heart is beating faster in his chest. The plain-faced woman who greeted him at the door has been replaced. Your face seems to change, the sir around you shifting. There is a thrill in being seen. A thrill, but also annoyance. “And what would you do to solve such a problem?”

“It wouldn’t help you to know what anyone else would do. Even if my way was best, you wouldn’t obey it. Obedience is not something you do willingly,” there’s a smile in your eyes that makes his hands tighten around each other. “Is your greatest problem above, below, or beside you?”

His face remains stoic as he mulls over your odd question. He thinks of those beneath him, the factory workers who riot and cause him distraction. Beside him, his brothers in arms and brothers by blood. Ada. Freddie…. Grace. And then he thinks of Campbell and Kimber. “Above me, always.”

You nod, “There was no need for you to come see me. You know the answer to the question before you asked it. The greatest woe for you is that there are matters of the heart keeping you from stabbing upwards to the enemies who stand over you. You aren’t used to having that sort of obstacle... You need to decide what you want more and act accordingly. To have both things will end poorly, but I can't stop you. Nobody can but you.”

For a moment, he feels a sense of relief. It had been many years since the words of a stranger had done that to him. This feeling was overtaken by an immediate realization. He had come to you under the assumption that you were gifted by second-sight. Yet… You had no cards, no crystals, did not say a prayer or even a hymn in a nonsense language.

“You’re no medium,” he states it as fact. Not as a question or accusation. Though, he watches to see how you take it. Tommy likes to see how people respond to being caught, he finds it to be the most revealing time for most. For the third or fourth time since he laid eyes on you, you defied expectation.

With a slow shrug you say, “I’ve never made the claim that I was one. Everyone started saying so one day and I decided not to correct them. I just read people.”

‘What an odd woman,’ Tommy leaned back in his seat. Face still as stone. As he looked at you, your posture returned to that stiff, nearly-too-straight, position from before. He could see why the average man would see you as something beyond the natural. Ordinary to otherworldly. An odd woman indeed. You stand from your couch with a small, crooked smile, “That’ll be ten quid, Mr. Shelby, a discount for a first-time reading. It'll be thirteen for the next time.”

He pushed the money into your hands and said, "Won't be a next time." You gave him no audible response as you walked him to your door and released him from the dreamworld your home had trapped him in. Tommy did not look back as he walked three paces from your door and lit a cigarette. No one had seen him and he had a feeling you wouldn't share his visit with others.

Tommy pushed you from his mind to focus on what may come next.

The rest of the day moved quickly and slowly all at once after he left your little flat. He swore to himself that he would never go back. Swore that he hated every instant spent in your dark home that smelled of lavender and cedar. Swore that he despised the way you peeled back his skin with that glare so sharp. No, he couldn't feel them on him. Not at all.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #thomas shelby #peaky blinders imagine #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby #thomas shelby x you #Thomas Shelby x autistic!reader #autistic!reader

[chronicially-parker]

me again :3

I've thought of another prompt ! spencer reid x gn!reader, as always :3 !

(idk how original it might be,,, but I thought I might as well just request it anyway)

so imagine BAU!reader running late for work and in their haste they've put on one of Spencer Reid's cardigan (maybe reader is also a cardigan wearer and didn't notice until they get to work maybe it takes them a second to remember/realize)

but the BAU notice (especially Reid) (that man is a blushing mess seeing his SO in *HIS* cardigan in front of the *BAU* /hj /lh) (bc the cardigan is a larger size than what reader would wear,, but it is Reid's size)

and so this is how the BAU realized they are dating :3

Thank you for reading and considering my ask !

yes yes yes!!! this is AMAZING!! i had so much fun writing this!! ♡

authors note: hi! this has been sitting in my drafts for far too long, so sorry if it isnt too good! i tried my best ❤️

you woke up to a call from your lovely boyfriend, spencer reid.

"hey baby, are you on your way to work yet?" spencer whispered softly through your phone

you had picked up a call from your boyfriend of 2 years at what you thought was early in the morning but had turned out to be nearly the time you were expected to arrive to work at the bau

"what-? ah shit!" you gasp, coming to the realisation that you had somehow slept through your alarms

"i'll take that as a no then," he chuckles "I'll see you soon, love you!"

"love you too!" you yell into the phone as you jump out of bed, sprinting to your closet grabbing the first things you see

"morning! sorry im late hotch!" you pant as you rush through the doors of the BAU to everyone staring at you, their eyes fixated on your current attire.

"ok i get im like really late but whats up with the staring guys?" you wheeze through breaths in a desperate attempt to regain your energy from running through the entire bau building

"loving the cardigan pretty girl" morgan snickers

thats when you noticed it, the purple cardigan you had draped over your shoulders in your desperate attempt to get out the door this morning

"oh my gosh! r/n is that spencers cardigan!!" your lovely friend penelope squealed, drawing the attention of just about everyone in a 50 ft radius

"everything ok?" spencer asks, coffee in hand after hearing penelopes excited squeals

"anything you want to tell us reid?" emily chuckles, eyeing the poor boy

"my girlfriends wearing my cardigan?"

THIS SPENCER YESYESYES

#autistic!reader #neurodivergent #adhd writer #autistic writer #spencer reid comfort #spencer reid fluff #adhd #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid scenario

[beautifulbrainrot]

spencer reid x reader

ykow i’m not sure what this is. i kinda just started writing out of no where and this is what i got to. it’s meant to be like young spence and reader, mabye they’re at the academy together, mabye they’re roommates, childhood best friends? idk. not my usual writing style so lmk if you like this, i might write more depending on how this is received.

cw kissing, autistic!reader, autistic!spence, i don’t know if it’s obvious but i based the reader of how i act sometimes and whatnot and im autistic so.. , kinda unfinished

i’ll be properly back from my break and answer request soon i’m just struggling bad rn. love you all

“Hey, Spence?”

He looked away from his book towards you, his eyes widened slightly as he awaited your words. But nothing could have prepared him for what you said.

“Are you sexually attracted to me?” You asked, expression pretty much blank as if it was the most normal question in the world. Maybe to you it was. But to Spencer?

His eyes widened more as he heard your question, his face flushing. He gaped slightly, floundering for an answer to your very personal and out of the blue question. Well he could deny, but he hated lying to you. The truth was, he was attracted to you. Sexually and Romantically. He thought he had it under control and undetected by you, but apparently he was wrong.

He decided to lie.

“What? No!” He answered, his voice high pitched as he looked away from you.

You tilted your head at him, expression still blank and unreadable.

“You’re lying.” You said simply, furrowing your eyebrows slightly as you watched his blush deepen and his mouth gape.

“I’m- I’m not lying.” He lied, clenching his jaw and trying to maintain eye contact with you, but miserably failing.

“Yes you are. You’re blushing, and you’re averting your gaze and you’re bouncing your leg.” You continued, getting off the bed you were lying on and walking over to his bed.

Spencer's eyes widened as he looked up at where you were now towering over him. Something about the sight of you standing above him, and practically interrogating him, was seriously turning him on.

“Spencer…”

“..Yes?” He squeaked, looking off to the side.

“You have a boner.” You said.

His eyes widened as he looked down at his lap, his face somehow flushing darker as he saw the bulge there.

“You see Spencer, I think you are sexually attracted to me,” You started, “And I'm sexually attracted to you. So.. Where do you want to go from here?” You finished, looking down at the blushing boy in front of you.

Spencer's brain paused. You were sexually attracted to him too? And you wanted to… Do something about it? Holy shit.

“Spencer?” You asked.

“Yes..” He responded quickly.

“Tell me what you want.”

He paused for a second, thinking. What did he want? All he knew was that he wanted you. In any way he could have you.

“..You.” He answered earnestly, finally looking up at you.

A small smile graced your beautiful features.

“Can I sit on your lap?” You asked simply, tilting your head.

He could only nod, still slightly overwhelmed by the situation.

Sitting down on his lap, you look directly into his eyes, now finally properly face to face with him.

Slowly, you leaned in, pressing your lips very softly and tentatively against his.

He kissed you back quickly, your lips moulding together perfectly.

You leaned back after a few seconds, biting your lip lightly.

“That was.. nice..” You said, smiling slightly. He smiled back, nodding. It was nice. Your lips were so soft against his, and you tasted sweet.

“You taste sweet.” He responded. He furrowed his eyebrows slightly. Is that what you're supposed to say after kissing someone? He wasn’t sure. But you smiled.

“I just had some candy, so I think that makes sense.”

He nodded slightly before leaning in again, capturing your lips with his.

This time you pushed your tongue into his mouth slightly. The kiss was clumsy, but it became more passionate as you continued, your bodies pressing closer against each other as you kissed.

You broke apart from him to catch your breath.

“Are we making out?” You asked, eyes closed as you pressed your forehead against his.

“I think so. I’ve never made out with anyone before.” Spencer replied, panting lightly.

“Me neither.” You said before tilting your head lightly and pressing your lips against his again.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #sub spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #autistic!reader #autistic!spence

[x-neurodivergent-reader]

Headcanons: 10th Doctor x Autistic!Reader established relationship

A/N: I've been rewatching the 9th and 10th Doctors' series recently, and found myself getting attached all over again, so I've decided to add the Tenth Doctor to my list of characters I write for! Enjoy!

The reader here is gender-neutral.

Content warnings: None.

Loves any happy stims you have! He finds that it makes your joy more contagious – and since his positive energy tends to similarly rub off on you, he gets to see you stim often, to his delight.

Like Thirteen, he’s genuinely interested in any toys or jewellery you may use to stim, and likes to learn about how it helps you. If he comes across anything that might serve a similar purpose for you during his trips, he won’t hesitate to get it for you, if possible.

He listens enthusiastically to you when you talk about your special interest(s). While he may struggle with explicit verbal affection, he more than makes up for it by giving you his full attention, and watching with sheer adoration as you engage with the things you love.

Even if you can't tell how he feels about you from his facial expression alone, you can rest assured that once there's someone else around you (especially if it's Donna), you'll be made aware by them teasing him relentlessly for his heart-eyes.

Once again, there’s a sensory room in the TARDIS all for yourself! It has everything you could need to calm down from sensory overload, meltdowns, or just feeling a bit “off”.

The Doctor won’t go in unless you explicitly allow him to – though admittedly, he's happy if you do, because he also gets some use out of some of the stim and sensory items!

While he’s often quite energetic, he knows when to calm down, if you get overstimulated. You may not always be able to avoid things that make you feel that way in your adventures, but he’s mindful in finding ways to help you endure it, at least until you make it back to the TARDIS.

Those moments where his darker, “oncoming storm” side comes out can be a bit complicated. He'll most likely tell you to go back to the TARDIS, because he doesn’t want you to get overwhelmed from seeing him like that, but he usually also needs you there to reign him in.

By the time you’re together, you’ve come to recognise this, and always focus on stopping him from going too far. He feels awful if you do get overwhelmed, so he’ll either give you some space for as long as you need it, or stay with you to help you calm down, depending on what you want.

If you lose speech for any reason, or are nonverbal, the Doctor will gladly talk enough for the two of you, and will immediately steer anyone who asks any uncomfortable questions about it away from the subject. He also isn’t afraid to call them out if they don’t relent.

He'll do anything you need to keep you safe during your travels, because he genuinely loves being with you!

#tenth doctor x reader #10th doctor x reader #tenth doctor imagine #tenth docotor imagines #doctor who imagine #doctor who x reader #doctor who imagines #tenth doctor x you #tenth doctor x y/n #10th doctor x you #10th doctor x y/n #autistic!reader #neurodivergent!reader #my imagines

[the-milk-monarch]

hello hello! I really like your writing! can I request a Mal x autistic reader but all good if not. Have a nice day/night!

☣︎ omg yes I wanted to write sth similar but I felt like it'd be too self-serving lmao I hope you don't mind I added Mike in there as well

[𝙰𝚄𝚃𝙸𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙲 𝚂/𝙾]

Summary: Mal pretends to be Mike but Reader picks up on it. After the reveal, Reader has to spent a cold night out with Mal as a challenge + dating headcanons.

☢︎ | Total Drama | 6k words | gender-neutral reader ♡ | Mal | Mike ⚠ | Mal being an ass, reader having a meltdown

[𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎]

Ever since you joined the Total Drama show, you knew you had to get an ally if you were to win.

Your social skills weren't the best, but you had your good problem solving skills to make up for that. At least you hoped so.

You were a little anxious while interacting with other contestants, hoping they wouldn't notice your a bit different approach to conversations.

But there was one boy who didn't seem to mind your awkwardness. On the contrary, he was a bit awkward as well, which filled you with adoration.

Mike was always so kind and respectful you never felt anxious around him, even with your quirky way of speaking.

Or the fact that you avoided eye contact while you spoke.

And when you cringed at yourself whenever you tripped on the flat ground, he didn't think of you any less, he was just worried whether you hurt yourself or not.

You could say you caught a small crush on Mike because of how comfortable you felt with him, but you knew he was interested in Zoey.

Although you were unsure about some small gestures received from him. "Was he just nice or is it his interest?" played in your head, although your mind told you to assume the worst and not hype yourself up.

That didn't stop you from simping from afar though.

What you loved the most about Mike was his willingness to listen to you ramble about your special interest.

You were really worried about being annoying around other people, knowing you might get a bit too excited the stuff you like and it'd be "inappropriate".

But Mike seemed to be into it, asking follow up questions and overall being engaged with you talking.

Your trust towards Mike was put to a test once you got a bit too overwhelmed in the middle of a challenge.

This particular day you seemed to have extra clumsy coordination which pissed you off a little, as it was important for you to win this time, given how strict the criteria for losing were this time.

"God, I have enough-" You desperately and a bit irritated announced while trying to tie a knot.

The challenge Chris McLean decided to do today was a scout obstacle course. Each person had to partner up with someone and do some scout activities, which included tying knots into various shapes shown on the picture.

The rope fell out of your hands for the 5th time while you were almost done with it and it made you forcibly exhale in irritation.

Mike had just finished his part of the activity and he noticed you had some troubles.

"Um, what is it?" He asked carefully, looking at your closed off body language.

"My hands don't listen to me and I can't tie these damn knots-" You tried not to make a scene, hating how much a simple, stupid task made you upset.

Your breathing got slightly heavier as you tried to suppress your rising emotions. You knew you had the right to express it, but not now. Not in front of Mike.

You took a step back from the ropes laying on the ground helplessly and given up, wanting to get some space from the irritating item.

Mike had noticed your change of attitude and immediately sensed you were losing it a bit.

"Hey, it's fine- I'll do your part." He suggested quickly, hoping to give some reassurance. "I-it's just ropes, right? We can still win!"

You felt a bit silly but you had no power to complete the task. You meekly nodded.

You stood there, just looking at his hard work until he finished.

"Okay, let's go!" Mike announced as he was done with your both parts.

At the end of the day, you and Mike managed to avoid elimination and after the challenge ended, you had some alone time to yourself.

Once you had a chance to be alone for a second, you quickly escaped the large crowd of people, wanting to get some space after such tiring situation.

You were chilling on a bench until you noticed a familiar face appearing on your radar.

Mike had managed to find you.

You quickly changed your way of cross legged sitting on a bench due to fear of being perceived as weird, even though you knew Mike probably wouldn't bat an eye on that.

You politely smiled as he approached you.

"Hey, there you are-" Mike reciprocated your smile a bit nervously.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you, but I noticed you kind of- disappeared from the rest earlier, did something happen? Are you alright?" He asked with worry on his face which made you soften your expression. Did he really care about your wellbeing so much he came after you?

"No, no, you're not disturbing-" You said, halfly honest. You wanted some time alone for yourself, but you couldn't say you didn't appreciate him coming here.

He came up to the bench you were sitting on and sat beside you, keeping a respectful distance.

You didn't even notice when you started slightly bouncing your leg as you spoke.

To a keen eye (or even not so) it was clear that even though your face was calm, you had some bottled stress inside.

Mike was mindful enough to notice it, so he proceeded carefully.

"So- you're fine, just wanted to- chill out alone for a second?" Mike gently asked, looking at your face, even though your eyes avoided his.

"Yeah. You know, people overwhelm me a bit sometimes-" You admitted a bit bluntly.

"Oh, yeah, it's fine, I get what you mean-" He assured you with a smile. But then his smile faltered a little in worry.

"Wait, since you wanted to be alone, aren't I a bother?" He asked again, ready to stop bugging you in case it wasn't welcomed.

You softly smiled at his politeness.

"No, I said you're not a bother. I don't mind you being here, and- I like that you came here, actually." You admitted with a bit awkward and coy smile. You weren't used to speaking your mind freely like that, in case something came out wrong, but you concluded your response was acceptable.

Mike grinned bashfully as he remembered your previous words.

"Right, right, sorry heh." He scratched his neck as he showed a toothy grin.

"So..." He started after a few seconds.

"Tell me if I'm crossing any boundaries here, but I felt like there was some shift from you since that, um, knot situation." He carefully said. "...Are you- mad at me? Did I do something?"

You cringed internally at yourself.

"Oh, eh- no-" You quickly chimed in. "No, I'm sorry if I came off that way-"

"I just got a bit overwhelmed because I'm so clumsy- But I'm alright now." You assured him with a half smile while your leg continued to bounce. Until you noticed the movement and promptly stopped.

Mike had noticed all of your quirks but never commented on them.

"Hey, it's alright- I didn't mind helping you." He gave you a warm and a calm smile.

You waited a bit before thinking about saying something.

"I- I dunno if you know what a 'meltdown' is...?" You carefully started. You never explicitly stated you're autistic, nor you wanted people to treat you like a child whenever they found out, but you trusted Mike wouldn't do that.

Mike blinked once before tilting his head slightly.

"A meltdown... Uh..." He looked at the ground, trying to think about it.

You explained before he could say anything else, saving him from an awkward silence.

"It's an autism thing, I just kinda shut off for a moment there. I know it's not really useful in a competition." You bluntly admitted, waiting for his reaction.

Mike then seemed to get the idea "Oh, right! Yeah, yeah I know what is it." He nodded to emphasize.

"You- You don't have to worry about that! I know how it is to get overwhelmed sometimes-" He chuckled nervously.

"Just so you know, it doesn't change anything." He showed yet another reassuring smile which made the corners of your lips move up as well. "I'll help you whenever you need it!"

"...Thanks." You hoped the shine in your bashful eyes didn't expose your feelings too much.

["𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎"]

After several days on the island, you noticed something changed. Mike seemed off to you.

Others didn't seem to notice, but your eyes caught some discrepancies in the way Mike acted.

His whole demeanor changed in an uncanny way.

You were used to being very chatty around him due to his always reciprocative stance, but recently Mike started to seem annoyed.

Worries flared up immediately once you noticed he might get bored of your ramblings, so you decided to ask him about it.

"Hey, uh, Mike? Can I ask you a question?" You tried to casually introduce the topic.

"Hm? Yeah, sure. Go on." He answered with fake investment in his voice, smiling.

"Am I talking too much? You can tell me to stop if you got bored or something-" You awkwardly informed him, hoping you weren't a bother after all, waiting for the confirmation.

He stopped for a moment, showing an unsure but cheery smile.

"Oh, no, no- Of course I love listening to you- But I'm just a bit tired today, so maybe you could tone it down a little today?" He tried to be as gentle as ever while shutting you up.

He wasn't very disrespectful but it kind of hurt you. Even though you knew he had the full right to politely ask you to stop, you thought he enjoyed the discussions with you.

You tried once again a few times, but all you were met with was subtly seeping annoyance from his responses.

"Oh my, that's interesting- But tell me, do you have anything else to talk about?" He asked while smiling and pretending to be invested.

"Uh- yeah. If you want I can-"

"Cool. Then talk about something else." He abruptly cut you off.

So with time you slowly shut up with the ramblings, which Mike seemed to be happy about.

You couldn't believe he just changed like that, as if it wasn't him. But you also felt like you had any right to force him into listening to you.

The changes in his behavior didn't stop at that, as you also noticed some remarks coming his way, which you had trouble deciding whether it was sarcasm or not.

He also seemed to get a bit more demanding, not being as keen to help you with things now.

You didn't take Mike's kindness for granted of course, but you knew something changed.

You had a bad feeling.

Your logical thinking made you come up with theories on what happened.

You knew about Mike's D.I.D. and wondered if it was maybe someone else. But you also knew Mike's alters well enough to know it wasn't any of the ones you were acquainted with.

Only thing that stopped you from outright asking him about it was your common decency. It would be rude to just assume.

So you decided to test something.

You once again started your favorite topic, one that Mike had a lot of questions and discussion about while he still acted like himself.

"Hey, Mike, I recently thought about that one tv show we talked about recently and I forgot to tell you some trivia. Wanna listen to the facts about [character] or [character2]?" You asked with halfly casual tone, wanting to check his reaction. You mentioned Mike's favorite action movie, so you believed he would reply with some enthusiast about it.

"Wow- um- Yeah, [character2] sounds good." He responded with pretended interest but you caught some annoyance from him, "per usual".

"...I thought you didn't like [character2]?" You asked a tricky question. The character in question was his favorite one. At least Mike's favorite. You purposefully asked an untrue question.

"Eh- I mean- Hate-listening is a thing, right?" He tried to get out of the hole he fell in due to not listening previously to you. His attempts at trying to be casual were obvious to you now.

You stopped for a moment to look him briefly in the eyes.

"Actually, you mentioned [character2] being your favorite." You tilted your head and raised your brow a bit accusatory.

He looked to the side, as if caught in a lie, but still tried to save face.

"Well tastes change, don't they?" He crossed his arms in a bit of annoyance because of you poking holes in his story.

"That's really rude of you." He furrowed his brows in slight irritation as his patience was running out.

That was it, you knew Mike wouldnt' just tell you that! Or, at least you hoped you were right about it.

You took a leap of faith as you also crossed your arms in a defensive state, staring at him.

"You're not Mike are you?" You asked bluntly.

He got a bit surprised at your boldness.

"What?" He chuckled a bit patronizingly, as if you said something stupid. "Of course I'm Mike. Why do you say that?"

"Well- I didn't wanna assume, but looking at your behavior recently I noticed you got a lot less enthusiastic about spending time with me. So obviously something's up." You concluded, still sticking to your belief. You hoped you weren't wrong.

"God you have to overthink everything, do you?" His tone changed to a slightly deeper one.

You noticed him gracefully swish his hair in a way which made his bangs cover his eye.

"Are you usually this annoying? How did Mike even managed to deal with you?" He expressed his thoughts freely now while you were under his judging eye.

Your eyes widened a little - you were right, it wasn't Mike.

"Wow, okay- Who are you then?" You asked now without any restriction.

"I'm Mal." He responded with arrogance.

"And if you tell anyone I'm not that nerdy freak, you're done." He added with an undertone of threat.

"Hey, what's with that hostility?" You tilted your head and asked a bit bluntly but still remaining polite.

"I am simply direct. I don't have the time or patience to deal with any of your foolish questions." Mal's cold and serious persona was quite intimidating, but you managed to stay calm.

"Okay- I'm direct too, but I don't have to threat you while at it." You pointed out calmly.

"I'm not threatening you. I'm simply telling you what will happen if you reveal my true self to anyone else." Mal's words echoed a threat without any hesitation.

You sighed, sensing some mixed messages from him. "Alright- Uh, so- Why don't you want me to tell others you're not Mike?"

"It's not your business." Mal's face displayed no change in expression, still remaining as firm and strict as ever.

You waited a bit before shrugging. "...Fair enough."

Mal stared at you, showing no reaction whatsoever. "Anything else?"

"Uh- Since you're obviously not Mike, why don't we start again?" You tried to make something out of this unusual situation.

Mal raised his brow skeptically, trying to sense your intentions with that question.

"And what do you mean by that?" Mal's demeanor stayed unchanged, keeping a sharp and indifferent look on his face.

"Like- I know nothing about you, but- I'm opened to still hold an alliance, you know?" You shrugged, hoping he'll agree.

"I'm not looking for any kind of alliance with you." Mal's words sounded harsh and blunt. He never cared for any relationships, especially with people he doesn't even know.

"Okay, harsh." You bluntly put it, a bit awkward he wasn't keen on it. "But- uh, why not?"

"Because there will never be any mutual benefits here." Mal's statement was short and concise, showing no further interest in their current conversation.

"Uh- How so?" You continued.

"You have nothing worthwhile to offer me. No one else has anything worthwhile to offer me either. It's why I'm alone." Mal's words sounded as cold and harsh as ever, as if you weren't even there.

"…Isn't it a bit lonely?" You didn't wanna push the matter further, but without Mike or anyone else in an alliance, you felt lonely yourself. That's why you tried to save the situation you had before.

Mal stayed silent for a bit. "Lonely? Yes. Do I care? No." Mal's face showed no visible change of expression, staying as cold as ever.

"It doesn't matter to me if I'm alone. I can survive on my own, I don't need any friends. I never have and never will."

Your face showed a bit of concern as well as mixed emotions.

It was hard to get to him, but you still had some hopes.

"Well- I'm not saying you need them, but- since I already know you're not Mike, why can't we be at least on a positive terms?" You tried your best to seem an appealing friend.

Mal stayed silent for a bit, considering your words. He remained indifferent and unamused, but your words at least reached his ears.

"You don't even know me, yet you want to be on positive terms with me… Are you that desperate?" He looked at you patronizingly amused.

"I'm trying to be nice here." You bluntly said, a bit discouraged by his unwillingness to cooperate.

"Nice, you say? Do you even know what 'nice' means? To my knowledge, 'nice' is something you do to manipulate people and get their trust. I'm not interested in those kinds of games." Mal's words were cold and sharp, as if challenging you to answer him.

You stood there a bit dumbfounded at his definition of "nice". "No- And I'm sorry you had this experience if that's what you think it means. But I hold no malice towards you, really."

"Well you're either lying, or you're just a fool. I haven't decided yet." Mal didn't make an effort to hold back his words, just letting them slip with his usual bluntness.

You rolled your eyes slightly, but you were determined to change his mind. "Look, I know you have no reason to trust me, like me, or even believe me, but- let's say it makes us even then? We get to be in an alliance, and I don't tell your secret?" You didn't like blackmail, but you had to save yourself somehow.

"…Let's say your offer interests me… What would be your goal of this alliance?" Mal's demeanor changed slightly, becoming noticeably more analytical and entertaining the possibility at least slightly.

"Well- First off, a buddy is always nice to have on the competition, second reason- I like Mike. And you're a part of Mike So- I also wanna be friends with you. And- I hope that's reasonable?" You put it in a honest way.

Mal chuckled out loud before looking at you entertained and looking as if he was about to burst your bubble. "But I'm no Mike. If you think I'm gonna act like him then you're mistaken."

"No, I don't." You quickly disregarded his words. "That's why I suggested a fresh start."

You waited a bit before elaborating more. "Yes, I know that probably sounds stupid, but I'll be blunt. I just wanna make a friend and stay in the game. And I suck at social interactions." You knew how desperate you probably were to him, given his indifferent approach to you, but you had no other idea what to do.

Mal was clearly entertained by your responses. He couldn't help but chuckle at their naivety and the sheer persistence of being his 'friend' or something similar. "…You're one odd individual. I must say."

Mal stood silently for a moment, pondering the possibilities for an alliance between you two. He sighed before responding. "…Very well" Mal's face looked serious now, having a proposition in store.

"Should you fail to respect my boundaries, or try to manipulate me in any way… you're dead meat." Mal's tone of voice changed a bit too, now sounding as if he weren't joking anymore.

"And I also want you to not interfere with any of my plans. Understood? I can tolerate working with you for the time being, but only for the sake of mutual benefits." Mal's words were harsh and intimidating, but there seemed to be a slight tinge of… skepticism.

That was a good thing, you thought, because at least he was considering your request.

You nodded.

[Mal at the confessional]

"I can't decide whether they're planning something I didn't give them credit for, or are they that stupid to think I'm really gonna be in a real alliance with them." Mal chuckled to the camera. "Probably the latter." He added with a smug smirk. "That naive pawn… it's too easy to manipulate them. All that talk about "friendship…" nonsense." He obnoxiously mocked your words with a hand gesture as his look held entertainment. "As if that mattered to me… or anyone." Mal thought to himself out loud. "No one ever mattered to me, and they never will. People are merely tools in my eyes, and I will use them to get what I want..." His expression seemed to stay serious and pondering for a moment before the video cut off.

[𝙼𝚊𝚕]

You had very mixed feelings about the situation.

You were very well aware Mal probably didn't respect you and only agreed to it for his benefit, you weren't stupid.

But you also had some hopes he would come around with time.

Your relationship proceeding further was very rocky, as Mal didn't really treat you with kindness, which you kind of expected, but weren't happy about.

Still, he didn't try to vote you off, and for the time being it worked.

You were a bit lost about what to do, but the days on the island didn't let you have a break to think about things, and the challenges proceeded as usual.

Today's challenge was a camp-out one. People in the team had to partner up with someone and then spend a night outside, in the forest.

"Easy enough", you thought, but you noticed some eye-roll from Mal.

Obviously you and Mal ended up being partners, due to the "mutual" alliance you had.

Once the teams had chose their respective campsites and you were alone, Mal swooshed his hair so it fell on his eye once again without a comment, seemingly more comfortable with this hairstyle instead of Mike's usual standing hair.

"So- How about this place?" You pointed out to a simple area that didn't have a lot of pinecones on the ground, offering a softer ground to set a tent on.

"Whatever, can be." He briefly acknowledged your words without any further interest.

You were a bit tired of his apathetic demeanor but you let it slide.

You placed your backpack on the ground, preparing to take out the necessary equipment.

Mal sat on some available tree root, expecting you to do all the work.

It took you some time but you were determined to set out the tent properly, even under Mal's judging eye.

To no avail. Without an instruction, it wasn't your strong suit to just "wing it".

Mal raised his brow unamusedly while crossing his arms.

"God that's pathetic." He commented without any hesitance.

"Okay then, you do it." You crossed your arms as well, now looking at him.

You heard a "tch-" from him. "Really? You're that helpless?" He smirked.

"It would appear so." You just bluntly admitted, gaining some surprise from Mal, which quickly disappeared after a moment.

"Weak." He murmured to himself, making sure you also heard him. He walked up to the tent, setting it up without much resistance.

You plopped down on the tree trunk Mal was previously sitting on, watching him work.

After he was done you didn't want to be useless, so you got up with an idea of gathering some wood. What's a camp without a camp-fire, eh?

Mal saw you leave but didn't comment anything, choosing to go sit in the tent he just set up.

You were really trying to be nice and respectful to Mal, but he was slowly draining your willingness to do it.

As you were collecting random twigs from the ground you were thinking about him though.

No one was mean without a reason, and given Mike's situation, he probably went through lots of stuff to get to his current behavior, which made you feel sympathetic towards him.

You came back to your little campout, noticing Mal lazily sitting inside the tent, holding a knife in his one hand that was carving the wood he held in the other. You wondered where did he get it from?

"I brought wood." You announced, letting the twigs fall onto the floor.

"Congrats, you made yourself useful." He commented briefly, but mostly ignoring you.

It was a start at least.

Soon enough the air became colder, forcing you to make a fire.

You gathered some rocks and formed them along with several pieces of wood, trying to set the fire with 2 rocks, as you had to do with Mike on scout-type challenge, until Mal took out a match with unamused expression and started the fire.

You blinked as you saw the fire appear, then looked at Mal. "How did you get a match?"

"I stole it." He replied carelessly without a hint of shame.

"...Okay, that works." You only managed to say.

You both got near the source of warmth in a careful distance away from each other, you sitting on the tree trunk nearby, him sitting in the tent.

The challenge was going pretty smoothly, until it began to pour.

The rain quickly took out your fire, making Mal groan in irritation.

As you felt the droplets of water on your clothes, you quickly went into the tent where Mal was taking most of the space, but he reluctantly moved to the corner once he saw you coming.

You stayed silent as you observed the aggressive change of the weather, with Mal not making a peep either, only keeping his outward display of annoyance towards the rain visible.

It was getting dark and cold, with the weather having no plans of going back to the sunny afternoon it previously was.

Mal backed out into the tent, sitting quietly and looking outside with an upset expression on his face.

There was a long, awkward silence that got to you internally, but you didn't want to risk annoying Mal with bringing up "annoying" topics to talk about, as you had no other ideas.

You came to the show with quite a thick jacket with a hood on, so the cold didn't bother you that much, but you observed Mal pressing his bent knees to his stomach in attempt to keep warm.

There was no sign of struggle from his side though, as he made a good job of sitting still, acting like it wasn't bothering him, with the exception of subtle trembles of his body once in a while.

It was obvious he felt cold with only a short-sleeved shirt to keep him warm.

"Are you cold?" You asked hesitantly, even though you knew the answer.

He shot you a death glare. "I'm fine."

You waited a second, looking at him briefly and thinking about your options. You decided to press further.

"You have short sleeves though." You pointed out, looking at his face getting agitated.

"So fucking what? My fault this moron can't dress properly?" He barked at you with hostility, as if you were pointing out his misfortune.

"No." You responded a bit taken aback by his tone, but you remained calm.

"But- We can share." You made your intentions clear as you took off the jacket, handing it to him.

He looked at you with skeptic and confused eyes as if you had some hidden intentions behind that move, but he accepted the gift without any comment.

You noticed his grumpy expression soften slightly but still keeping that distrustful glare, avoiding your eye as he put the jacket around his back.

You judged his reaction as a positive one though.

After a moment you scooted closer to him, touching his side with yours, to which he raised his eyebrow at your "audacity".

"What are you doing?" He muttered, looking at your movements with mixed feelings.

"You're not the only one cold here. I'm also freezing." You explained a bit lightheartedly, hoping to ease the thick tension between you two.

Mal only briefly looked at you and let out a "hmph" noise as an acknowledgement as he looked away from you, yet he didn't move away, letting you stay in this position.

You sighed contently for the first time in a few days now.

You watched the rain fall in silence, but at least it wasn't as overwhelming now.

Finally the exhaustion caught up to you both as a product of several hours of walking and doing stuff.

Mal let out the first yawn and so you asked him whether he wants to go to sleep.

He shrugged, still keeping his indifferent behavior but accepted. "Sure, whatever."

You both moved to the far away corners of the tent and layed down, feeling the fabric of the tent soften the hard ground halfly. Chris didn't pack you any sleeping bags, that would be too easy.

All you had was your jacket as a make-shift blanket.

You noticed Mal laying on his side, in a way that wouldn't make him face you.

You offered him a part of the jacket but his ego didn't let him accept this time.

"I'm fine. I don't need it." He harshly turned down your offer.

You sighed. "Fine."

Mal remained stubborn, even though the cold was biting his ass, he managed to fall asleep.

You however couldn't, due to the uncomfortable place of sleeping.

You laid on your back for a few seconds, staring at the ceiling of the tent, before deciding to take a look at Mal.

His breathing let you notice he was asleep, although his shaky body was visibly cold.

You didn't have the heart to let him freeze, so you very carefully moved near him, putting a part of the jacket on him to cover him up.

You pressed your back very slightly against him, craving some additional warmth from his body that would benefit you boths

Fortunately he didn't wake up.

You managed to fall asleep after some time as well.

Mal woke up after several hours, thoroughly confused about the state of his being, as he expected to wake up cold, but he was quite- cozy.

His expression changed as soon as he noticed you very close to him.

He cringed at your proximity, with your front facing him in a blissful state of sleep, hair over your eyes as if in rom-com movie.

He was about to forcefully shake you off him, but he decided against it for some reason.

Perhaps it was his self-preservation finally speaking, instead of ego getting in his way of survival. Your position was both comfy and warm, after all.

He only turned to lay on his back, letting out a heavy sigh, furrowing his eyebrows slightly as it was now his turn to look above without any particular reason, just to think over the situation.

As soon as you started to wake up, he immediately backed off, putting the whole jacket on you.

"Finally you're awake." He said as if it was a big bother.

You softly rubbed your eyes, yawn escaping your lips as you done so.

"When did you wake up?" You asked with a bit of haze still.

"Doesn't matter." He sharply shut down your question, although his tone was just slightly different than his usual bitterness.

After you both past the challenge timer of staying and ready to leave the place, you noticed Mal taking down the tent, without you having to ask him for it. Huh.

[Mal at the confessional]

Mal stared at the camera with crossed arms for a longer moment, having an ambiguous expression on his face. After some time he finally decided to open his mouth. "God, they're so helpless. They can't even set up a damn tent." His scornful tone made it obvious he was making fun of you. "How would they even make it so far without me?" He once again made it clear to the recording device that he was needed for your victory. Yet another few seconds passed by before his thought was said out loud, this time his face turning less arrogant and more figuring out what he's gonna say. "...They're so naive." He reiterated once more, as if to reassure himself what to think. "But- Maybe with my help I'll be able to use them to my advantage." He finally found the correct direction of his further words. "I'll make sure no one gets between me and Y/N getting a chance at winning the money." "Of course, just for me to forcefully take the victory away from them, later." He said confidently, but he felt the need for a clarification on that last part. He lingered in the confessional for a moment more, before getting to his final words, looking straight at the camera. "And if anyone plans to interfere with that, they're gonna go down."

[BONUS - DATING HEADCANONS]

Of course if you and Mal become a thing, he'll be more keen about tolerating your quirks and listening to you ramble about your hyperfixations.

He won't be as invested in them, but he'll treat you in a way he'd treat a cat enjoying it's favorite toy - "You do your thing sweetie. It's stupid but adorable to look at."

Once he gets used to your true thoughts and trust you, he'd also think your honesty is refreshing.

He thinks neurotypicals play too many complicated emotional games.

He can also play them as a form of manipulation, but if it comes to trusting each other he appreciates you always being blunt when it comes to what you think.

It's obvious Mal most probably has ASPD and Narcissistic Personality Disorder, so he's not a stranger to people not liking his attitude and way of thinking.

He might be a bit too harsh on you at first, not used to having someone caring about him (or vice versa) but with time he'll learn to not go as hard on you.

Like with your 'special needs', not tolerating some textures and foods, your obsession about only on topic at a time, or stimming, which might be distracting to him.

He might panic a bit inside once you have a meltdown first time around him though, not knowing how to act around you in that state, as only thing he knows it's hostility, so don't expect him to be much help.

He might listen to your requests how should he act later on, though.

He will also be more straightforward around you when he notices your "denseness".

"Do you- want my jacket again?" You asked, looking at Mal. "No, let me freeze to death." He remarked sarcastically, expecting you to pass him the jacket again, but you just blinked, unsure if he wanted it or not after your previous similar encounter with him being reluctant to accept it. He looked at you a second more, now elaborating a bit annoyed. "Yes, I want it."

Even more so after Mal became less insecure about showing his interest in you.

"Aren't you cold?" He asked, looking at you expectantly with a hint of tease in his voice, obviously wanting you to come closer to him so you'd need him as a source of warmth. "Kinda-" You responded casually, yet still did nothing. Mal waited a moment before finally sighing and pulling you closer to him in a smooth manner, making you a bit surprised. "That means come here." He reiterated slightly more greedy about your presence. That amount of possessiveness made you a bit stunned, but in a kind of positive way. He wasn't negative towards you anymore, after all. "Do I really have to spell out everything for you?" He asked halfly serious. "Well- apparently." You admitted a bit embarrassed at your lack of clue. He rolled his eyes, pulling you closer. "Okay then. You're mine now."

#total drama #total drama x reader #x reader #headcanon #imagine #gn reader #gender neutral reader #mal #td mal #total drama all-stars #mal x reader #total drama mal x reader #td mal x reader #ask #request #autistic reader #autistic!reader #mike x reader #td mike x reader #mike #td mike

[angelatsumu]

allistic simon x autistic reader was just so heartwarming and relatable to read as i’m someone with the tism that often feels like a burden on others. it was so lovely, feeling like simon didn’t want to change the reader as a person or expect anything unreasonable of them, but rather accommodate them where he can. i also liked that he didn’t have to compromise himself and was able to do an activity he likes, but also care for reader! all around just really enjoyed the piece.

if i may, i’d love to request something where one of the reader’s safe foods/essential items is out of stock or being discontinued and how simon would help them navigate that situation. one of my fave essentials just got discontinued and i’m devastated lol ♥︎

hi there! i'm very happy that you enjoyed my first autistic reader piece. i'm sorry that your safe food is out of stock ): i get fairly frustrated when i can't have access to things that comfort me. i apologize in advanced for the subpar writing that will ensue this message.

allistic simon x autistic!reader: crisis averted

in which your lovely husband attempts to help you navigate the sudden unavailability of your safe food.

simon came back from his meeting on base a bit winded and more confused than when he'd originally left the home. the meeting was a cooperative planning session involving KorTac, and your husband failed to keep up with the newly-introduced objectives and profiles. his head hurt, frankly. the entire meeting he'd only been wondering what you'd been up to and if you missed him. when he finally entered your shared home, he was relieved to have the workday slide right off his broad, strong shoulders.

simon hummed as he heard the tapping of your PC keyboard, knowing you'd likely well into a deep dive of one of your special interests. he took off his boots by the door and calmly took steps toward the study, whistling as he walked. his eyes fell upon you in the throws of your own world of wonder, irises blown as you took in the information before you. Simon cleared his throat to grab your attention, and you peeled yourself away briefly to greet him. ,"hey Si," you hummed back distractedly, and your husband chuckled in response. "hi lovie," he grinned at you, moving to stand beside you and take in the media you were consuming. he stands there for a moment, enjoying your company, before he decides to trek to the kitchen for a snack.

simon peers around the area for signs of your appetite, signs that you had been feeding yourself and staying hydrated. he was met with an empty sink and dishwasher, and the items in the fridge looked untouched. the water filter was exactly as full as when he left this morning. he sighed, shaking his head before a lightbulb went off. maybe we're out of [food item]. that could do it, he thinks to himself, treking to the pantry to confirm the item was missing. he padded back into the study to greet you again, politely asking for your attention.

when you spin around to see a frowning Simon you instinctively feel puzzled, and of course Simon can tell by the way you stare at him blankly. "lovie, you didn't eat today?" he's soft when he speaks to you, ensuring that you don't feel scolded or punished. Your lover has been so understanding of your mannerisms, fully aware that your appetite was fickle and sometimes undetectable. you shook your head in response, words lost on you as you tried to recall your last meal. "there's no food item so I can't really eat right now," you responded cooly, and Simon nods his head in response. usually he'd kept up with the supply of your items, and he was honestly quite shocked that this wasn't upsetting you as much as he'd always imagined it would. he didn't want to press the issue, but he was mildly concerned that you may be pressing it down. "why didn't you say anything, are you not upset?" the question slides over your head, and you direct your attention back to the media in front of you. " 've been busy today," you respond as your eyes focus again on the screen. Simon sighs again, turning on his heels and heading to the bedroom for a change of clothes. he knew he'd be heading to the store now, or helping you through a meltdown later.

Simon had read up quite a bit on the fickle nature of meltdowns, and he was well versed in how unpredictable they may be. he'd listened to numerous autistic media creators mention their experience in reference to valves. when the 'special interest' tank was where you needed it, and your 'manual labor' valve was at a minimum, then that allowed for things like social interaction or emotional regulation. when you had no time to yourself and no time for the things that keep you happy, your mask began to slip and 'smaller' things that you normally coped with began to feel a lot heavier and less manageable. he knew that your special interest tank currently filled your cup to the brim, allowing you to ignore the constant discomfort of hunger and dehydration. he also knew that should this hunger persist it may heighten other, seemingly less significant, senses and experiences and he'd find himself well into meltdown territory. the longer he waited for you to notice your hunger, the more likely dysregulation would occur.

at the store, Simon's breath is stolen from him. the damned item was out of stock. he haggled a store employee, begging them to check their inventory again, but they'd been completely out of it. Simon found himself driving all over the city in search of this item, but he found nothing. at the fifth store he felt defeated, and he decided to search for the item online. to his dismay, it'd been discontinued. there was a pit in your husband's stomach at the information. to Simon's surprise, it seemed that his lovely spouse's support of this item hadn't been enough to singlehandedly keep the item in service. he scoffed as he thumbed through the list of items he knew you liked, all of which seeming a reach to coax you into eating.

Simon drives the 45 minutes back to the home, and you're pacing in the living room with your headphones on. Simon doesn't even have to ask, he knows you've overdone yourself with the screens and now your head hurts and your ears hurt; your ears always hurt when you're overstimulated. No matter how much you loved [special interest], you still found yourself overwhelmed if you indulged for too long.

you turn the music down at the sight of your husband in the doorway, waiting for him to speak. "Lovie, it seems that item has been discontinued." The words take a moment to be processed, but you fail to hide the disgust and frustration you feel about the information. you feel your chest getting tight, and the music doesn't feel loud enough. "i know this is difficult but-" 'How could we not notice it was discontinued? Why didn't i pay attention! It can't be! I don't want that. I don't want it." you began to cry, frustration coursing through you as your ears began to sting. You'd tried so hard to do better, to feel better for Simon, but now you felt helpless. Your brain began to eat away at you, blaming you for not keeping up with your own foods and snacks. Your pacing continues as you find yourself striking your chest repeatedly, trying to dull the pain of the situation. your mind felt like it was melting, and the tears continued.

Simon steps to you slowly, striking his own chest lightly and he nears your smaller frame. he slowly reaches his arms out beside him, allowing you to walk into his chest. his arms remain at his sides, and he allows the painful stimming to be transferred to his chest. your strikes feel nothing close to anything he'd truly suffered, and he hoped this would help you make it through this world-shattering time. he stands there for as long as you need him to, fully prepared for this to last several hours. the tears stain his shirt as you sniffle and sob, strikes getting lighter and lighter. you cry so much it leaves you dizzy, and your arms slowly reach out to simon's to wrap them around your frame. you give him two taps to let him know that you'd like to be squeezed, and he does so without complaint.

"You're safe, lovie. I'm sure this is very frustrating, so how about we order that Chinese food place you like. I know it's not safe food but it will feed you. I even have the exact order from last time, hm?" you offer him another two taps as confirmation, and he smiles.

Once you begin to come down from your meltdown, Simon is sure to help you change into your favorite pajamas and wraps you in your compression blanket. you two spend the evening in your bed watching your comfort show and eating takeout.

an: i hope this as comforting for you as it was for me while writing. simon would be such a loving and comforting partner, and I deeply believe he'd study you and learn you so well that he can help. if anyone you love is having a meltdown, try to remove any extra emotional or cognitive labor for them.

#ghost x reader #ghost headcanons #simon riley fic #simon riley x reader #simon riley headcanons #cod x reader #cod headcanons #cod fluff #simon riley fluff #ghost fluff #autistic reader #autistic!reader #disabled reader #simon ghost riley hcs #ghost riley fluff #ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #disabled!reader #gn!reader #simon x gn!reader #simon <3

[teddy06writes]

Lost Words

Alfie Solomons x gn!autistic!reader

Warnings: I guess the way I describe readers feelings/emotions? (all based on personal experience)

Prompt: I had a bad day at work, and this is a coping mechanism

Premise: After a long day at work stress you out to the point of shutting down, Alfie helps you calm down.

{I swear I'm gonna write hurt comfort for Alfie with the roles reversed I just need more motivation}

{also I'm thinking of doing an Alfie fic based on Much Ado About Nothing if anyones interested in that}

From where you were hiding inside your blanket cocoon, you heard the door to the house creak open, and Alfie calling to you that he was home. Cyril, who had been leaning against you, let out a whine, and shuffled to all but slide off the bed, before trotting off to greet his other owner.

You sighed, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to burrough further into the blankets. What only seemed to be a moment later, you heard Alfie entering the room, still cooing at Cyril.

"You alright my dove?" His voice was surprisingly gentle, coming from somewhere near the foot of the bed.

You couldn't find it in yourself to respond, and you heard him move closer, before he was gently pulling the comforter away from your head, humming worriedly, "Dove?"

You peeled your eyes open to find him peering down at you, concerned etched onto his face. Alfie's hand reached out to brush hair from your face, almost automatically before he caught himself, muttering, "RIght- sorry, love, sorry..."

He ran a hand over his beard, "You're havin' a quiet day then? Lost all your words cause of work, hm?"

Slowly you nodded, and he hummed again, muttering something to himself before disappearing from your field of vision. When he reappeared a moment or two later he'd stripped down to his shorts and undershirt, and began to gingerly climb into bed beside you, careful not to touch you.

"You just take your time then, love, and when you get all your words back you can tell your Alfie what's going on, yeah, dove?"

Alfie waited patiently, looking at you, not quite expectantly, but with some sort of reverence you couldn't place. Slowly, one of your hands snuck out from where it had been tucked firmly under your chin, to grab his hand where it rested on the mattress.

When you looked back up at him in aprehension, he seemed to understand, nodding, "'s alright, love."

You squeezed his hand tightly, and he squeezed back, albeit a bit more gently. It was times like this that you felt you could never truly express how grateful you were to have Alfie, who seemed to be the only person who ever truly understood you complex feelings, and never misunderstood what you meant just because you were 'wired different'.

Slowly you worked your way closer to Alfie, until he was able to wrap his arms around you, squeezing you just tightly enough to provide relief from the itch that had worked its way under your skin. You buried your face in his chest, absently running your fingers over the soft fabric of his undershirt.

"That's it love," He murmured, his chest rumbling, "You just take your time, my dove. Aflie's got ya."

Eventually, when you would find your voice returning, you would tell Alfie about your day, rambling on about the good and the bad about how it all became to much, and he would listen. But for now, you were content with laying in comfortable silence, the two of you lost in your own little world.

#peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x gn!reader #peaky blinders x autistic!reader #alfie solomons #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons x gn!reader #alfie solomons x autistic!reader #autistic!reader #teddy06 writes #teddy06 #teddy 06 #teddy06writes

[fanfics4all]

Be With Daddy

Request: Yes / No  Could you please do a Spencer Reid x autistic daughter were she really clingy? Maybe Derek ask if she wants to hang out for the day. and she has meltdown. because she doesn't want to leave her dad. Thank you!! @littlesister20001​

Requests are closed  <3 Have a nice day/night

Spencer Reid x Daughter!Autistic!Reader 

Word count: 1077

Warnings: A meltdown I suppose? 

Y/N: Your Name 

Y/N/N: Your Nickname

A/N: I do not have autism so I do not fully know what it’s like to have it! I did my research and I hope this alright! Please let me know if this is insensitive and I need to change things! 

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK! 

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you! 

Masterlist 

If you enjoy my work, you could also show support by buying me a coffee! 

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

*Spencer’s POV*

I never enjoyed taking Y/N to work with me, but ever since her Mother died I didn’t have too much of a choice. It was late at night and there was no way I could call her usual babysitting in at this time. I hated waking her up because sometimes she could get cranky, but I really didn’t have a choice this time. I quietly walked into her room and gently shook her awake. She groaned and slowly blinked awake. She looked up at me and smiled tiredly. 

“Daddy?” She asked and I smiled. 

“Hey sweetie, Daddy got called into work and it’s late. I need you to come with me.” I said quietly. She rubbed her eye and nodded. 

“Okay, Daddy.” She said and held her arms up and did little grabby hands at me. I smiled at her and lifted her up. 

“Let’s get you changed, hmm?” I asked and she nodded once again. I got her dressed in one of her favorite outfits and she rested her head on my shoulder once we were done. I picked up her little backpack and grabbed my own bag, then we were out the door. I placed her in her car seat and we headed to the office. When we got there the team was all standing in the bullpen and stared at us when we walked inside. 

“Sorry I’m late. I couldn’t call the babysitting in this late on a school night and our neighbor that usually watches her when she can’t is on vacation.” I explained and they smiled. 

“Hey little Reid! How you doing?” Morgan asked with a huge smile. 

“Sleepy.” She mumbled and everyone chuckled. 

“Ried, you can’t have her in the round table room.” Hotch said and I nodded. 

“How about you come with me little chick-a-dee?” Garcia asked and Y/N shook her head no. I set her down and gently pushed her towards her. 

“Go on Y/N, you love Garcia.” I said with a small smile. 

“No… I wanna stay with Daddy.” She said and I sighed. 

“Sweetie, you can’t stay with Daddy right now. Daddy needs to work.” I said and she shook her head with tears in her eyes. 

“Wanna stay with Daddy!” She said louder and stomped her foot. She started to try and shake her head. 

“No! No! No!” She cried and moved towards my desk. She crawled under it and hugged her knees. My eyes widened slightly and I realized that she might not have woken up so easily like I originally thought. She started smacking her head against my desk and crying. 

“Wanna stay with Daddy!” She continued to cry. I dropped both the bags and ran over to her. I blocked her banging with my hand and gently cradled it. Just enough to stop her from hurting herself, but not enough to cause her any damage. 

“Hey, none of that sweetie.” I said softly. She continued her rocking, but she wasn’t banging her head anymore. Her breathing was still heavy and I could tell she couldn’t focus on one thing, but once she recognized it was me holding her she leaned into my touch slightly. 

“Can you come out, sweetie?” I asked softly. She shook her head no and I nodded back. 

“Okay, I understand. I’ll just sit here with you then.” I said and crossed my legs. I took off my coat and wrapped it around her loosely. Once it was over her, I took her hand in mine and just sat there. 

“Can someone hand me her phone? It’s in the front pocket of her backpack.” I asked. JJ opened the pocket and slowly walked over to us. She kept her distance and handed me her phone. She walked back to the rest of the team who was looking at us worriedly. I pulled up her favorite show and held it so she could watch it. 

“Ried, take your time here. We have a local case and someone will update you on once you’re done.” Hotch said. I nodded and the team followed him to the round table room. 

It took some time, but I was slowly able to coax her out from under the desk and got her to relax. She was sitting in my lap and watching her show. She was resting her head against my chest and smiling. 

“Hey sweetie?” I asked quietly. She looked up at me and hummed. 

“I know you wanna stay with Daddy, but Daddy needs to work.” I said and I saw her eyes slightly start to tear up. 

“No more tears, sweetie.” I said quietly and her lip slightly quivered. 

“You remember what Daddy does for work?” I asked and she nodded. 

“Daddy saves people.” She answered quietly. 

“That’s right. And right now, Daddy needs to go help the team save some people.” I explained and she sighed but nodded slightly. 

“So do you think you can go spend some time with Auntie Garcia and Daddy will come and visit you in about two hours?” I asked and she sighed. 

“Okay Daddy…” She said and I smiled at her. 

“That’s my big girl.” I said and lifted her up. She was still wrapped in my jacket, I knew it would help keep her calm. I picked up our bags and walked towards Garcia’s office. I knocked on the door and she called for us to come in. I walked inside and she turned to us with a smile. 

“Hey chick-a-dee, are you okay?” She asked in a gentle voice. She nodded slightly and I placed her down on the extra chair she had and smiled at Garcia. 

“She should be okay, just let her watch her show for right now and she should either fall asleep or open back up with you.” I said and she nodded. 

“Sure thing boy genius.” She smiled and turned to Y/N. 

“Just let me know if you need anything, chick-a-dee, okay?” She asked. Y/N nodded and pulled out her headphones. She connected them to her phone and continued to watch her show. 

“I’ll come by and check on her in about two hours.” I said and Garcia nodded. 

“I’ll take care of her, Reid.” She said and I nodded with a smile. I left and just hoped Y/N wouldn’t have another meltdown tonight. Hopefully we could do this quickly and I wouldn’t have to keep Y/N here for hours.

Tag list: @les-bio-lie​ @tashy-bear​ @ashwarren32​ @hollie-blogs-blog1​ @schisbro87​ @lover-of-books-and-teas @nerdygaloresposts​ @teenwolfbitches28​ @genius2050​ @drw0301bieber​ @lady-of-lies​ @ravenmoore14​ @ravenempress101​ @cillianchamp​ @rowanthomasknapp​ @rachelxwayne​ @ready-4-fanfiction @pettyjayy​ @bruisedfists-and-splitlips @answer-the-sirens​ @andreasworlsboring101​ @reidssmile​ @currentfangirl-futuremedexaminer @mggstyles @satans-0-spawn @emofairygay @thesoftestwarlock @liz-owl​ 

#Criminal Minds #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #spencer reid x daughter!reader #spencer x daughter!reader #autistic!reader #spencer x autistic!reader #spencer reid x autistic!reader #spencer x autistic!daughter!reader #spencer reid x autistic!daughter!reader #reid!reader #fanfic #request

[emsgoodthinkin]

Eddie Munson

Steve Harrington

Rafe Cameron

⤬ reblogs, comments & likes are appreciated ⤬

Multi-Fandom imagines / videos 💭 📺

Eddie watching his gf stim

Eddie said sit on it

Obx daddy issues

I watch Scream for the plot

Subby lil Eddie

Joe🤝Joe

Eddie and Steve? Nah, Ghost and Konig

Eddie in a ski mask

Cute stupid head Ed

I can take them both (not in a fight)

Steve’s predator stare

If Billy was in Queen of the Damned

We all wanna sit on Keerys lap

Daddy Steve vibes

Head? Head.

Hybrid puppy Ralph vibes

Joes an ass man

Billy loves Steve’s eye contact

Joe calls Dacre mommy

Cocky Keery

Let Quinn take you to a bad place too

Arthur can’t take the pressure

Arthur deserves a good ride

Sweaty Ed

Joseph’s BBC

Eddie and corrupted princess vibes

Eddie soundgasm

Rockstar Eddie’s f*ck song

Looks can be deceiving Mr. Keery

Oh yes Rio

Steve Harrington? No, Steve Gallagher

Dacres fine like wine

Twitter links

Put a knife in me Rory

Rafe can handle it

Mommy Nancy

Damon’s words get you wet

Big boy Hopper

Big boy Billy

Riding Steve’s thick limbs

Eddie whoppin yo ass

Eddie say please?

Steddie voices

Do it in the shower Billy

Spencer is a womanizer

Dacre can’t stop lookin at you

Eddie’s warning stare

You crawling to Eddie

Eddie being too calm during punishment

Steve grabbing Eddie’s ass

Eddie’s jeans..

Which Joe can you see

I need Billy and Eddie to wreck me

Joe reacting to a dirty text

Eddie loses V-card

Your beautiful goofball Ed

#multi fandom masterlist #stranger things masterlist #obx masterlist #eddie munson #steve harrington #joe keery #joseph quinn #the vampire diaries #steddie #robin buckley #argyle #billy hargrove #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x plus size reader #ralph penbury #dickensian #virgin reader #gn reader #sick!reader #autistic!reader #drew starkey #jj maybank #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid #lgbtqia #stranger things fanfiction #ems mlist #black reader #disabled!reader

[harveyb-wabbit92]

[Hobie is at a café with his partner R/n he’s helping her sort out her papers as she’s working on getting U.K. citizenship.]

Hobie, gets up and stretches: Oi, Snaps, do ya want something from the bakery?

(R/n shakes her head no and gives Hobie a little nod before getting up and walking away to make a phone call, Hobie made it barely two steps when this group of girl’s from R/n’s school including a particularly pushy one who’d been trying hit on Hobie at his show the night before cuts in front of him. )

Pushy girl, pointing at R/n: Are you her helper or something?

Hobie: No, she’s my partner.

Pushy: No, really?

Hobie: Yeah, really.

Pushy: *grins* What’s someone like you doing with a girl like her?

Hobie, narrowing his eyes : Whaddya mean?

Pushy: You know, she’s… different.

{Hobie realizes the fugly bastich is referring to R/n’s autism, he bites back his outrage and smirks at her.]

Hobie: Oh yeah, I see a difference.

Pushy, bats her eyes lashes and leans in: Exactly–

Hobie, huskily: She’s comin home wit’ me and yer not.~

Pushy, stares at him gobsmacked:...

(Hobie walks over to R/n, holds her close and gives her a big kiss before walking away. The other girls snicker and start making fun of Pushy, Who turns beet red and stomps off with her bruised ego. Hobie does feels bad for embarrassing R/n like that, but he still thinks it was totally worth it!)

=========== R/n = Reader’s name

#S: Not always right #spiderverse incorrect quotes #across the spiderverse #hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #spiderpunk #spiderpunk x reader #afab reader #autistic!reader #incorrect spiderverse #spiderman incorrect quotes

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

Top 10 Tolkien Characters to be with Neurodivergent Partners.

1. Boromir

2. Glorfindel

3. Elrond

4. Aragorn

5. Arwen

6. Bilbo

7. Faramir

8. Eowyn

9. Kili

10. Thranduil

Might do headcanons for these one day x

#Tolkien #Tolkien imagine #boromir #Boromir x reader #Glorfindel #Glorfindel x reader #Elrond #Elrond x reader #autism #autistic!reader #adhd #adhd!reader #Aragorn #Aragorn x reader #Arwen #Arwen x reader #Bilbo #Bilbo x reader #Faramir #Faramir x reader #eowyn #eowyn x reader #Kili #Kili x reader #Thranduil #Thranduil x reader

[miguelswifey04]

ok so reader and miguel are fucking, but reader hates eye contact, fucking despises it (autistic) but miguel makes them look and suddenly they change thier mind about it

i’m gonna try and make it short and sweet <3

🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱

miguel, aware of this, respects your boundaries and understands your unique needs and preferences. as the passion between you intensifies and your bodies intertwine, miguel, filled with love and adoration, seeks to deepen the connection you share. sensing your hesitation, he gently caresses your cheek, his touch tender and reassuring.

“mmm, look at me, my love," miguel whispers, his voice low and filled with affection. his words hold a subtle urging, but he places no pressure on you. instead, he hopes to create a space where you might feel comfortable exploring new boundaries.

your gaze instinctively averts, finding solace in the soft contours of miguel’s chest or the gentle touch of your fingers tracing patterns upon his skin. the communication between you is wordless, allowing miguel to understand your desires without the need for explicit discussion.

however, as you catch a glimpse of miguel’s eyes, a flicker of vulnerability and trust, something begins to shift within you. the depth of his affection and the sincerity that shines through his gaze resonates with something deep within your being.

with each meeting of your gazes, a deeper level of trust is established, forging an unbreakable bond between you and miguel. the previously uncomfortable becomes a source of reassurance, a channel through which your love and desire flow freely. he respects you and your boundaries and will make the experience pleasant for you. he will accommodate and meet your needs.

———

a/n: this was interesting to write but please do let me know if you want more <33

#spiderman atsv #spider man: across the spider verse #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv x reader #miguel spiderman #spider person #miguel o’hara x y/n #autistic!reader #🌱 lin writes