#the hell that is trying to find a job when you are neurodivergent

[beinganautismgirl]

this

This.

THIS.

THIS.

THIS.

This!!!!!!

(also, to everyone getting on my case about not reblogging or reposting, I actually tried to find this Tumblr after I found the post on Pinterest and it doesn't exist anymore, so shut up and get off my back 🙃)

#living with autism #anxiety and autism #autism #autistic adult #actually autistic #autistic communication #adhd #adhd adult #adhd brain #audhd #the hell that is trying to find a job when you are neurodivergent #it is specifically designed to work against us #nothing is made for us #we just get royally screwed

[bee-dot-exe]

Surprise @pianolote!

I got this idea after a BBH stream and thought it would be fun to write anyway, then I remembered it would probably work really well with your request.

Not directly trying to imply or headcannon he's neurodivergent, but I am and experience similar things, and this unintentionally helped me to write both perspectives.

Happy holidays everyone, I hope you enjoy.

And thank you for putting this event together @mcytblrholidayexchange!

Fidget

1,147 words

Possible dissociation possible panic attack a and non verbal episode warnings I guess?

"Wait, where are you going, don't you think this is cool?"

I asked smiling as we ran towards the elevator.

"Why would you make this?"

They asked with a slightly quivering voice.

"Cause it was like our little slice of Heaven while we were in Hell!"

We reached the elevator block and teleported out of the room, they spun on their heels, and looked me in the eyes.

"I think you might have finally lost it."

And they ran out of the building above my creation.

While I was left standing silent and frozen.

I did it again. I don't know what I did. But I did it again.

Why does no one think this is as nice to be in as me? Why does no one want to stay? Why does no one think I did a good job?

I made a mistake. This is a mistake. I'm a mistake.

My ears were ringing, not like the sound of a bell, but the continuous single note of otherwise silence and disuse and the rushing of blood traveling through my body.

Someone had severed my vocal chords, and then took a needle to sew my lips closed just to be safe.

All the breath that had not yet been stolen passed through the void that was my throat, passing through the chasm swiftly and quietly, cold like ice.

"Bad?"

Oh. A voice. I don't know who or where it was coming from. But it was real. I think.

"What's going on, buddy?"

I'm someone's buddy?

"Hey, are you cold? You're shaking a little bit."

Oh. I guess I am. No, I'm not cold.

"Not feeling like talking right now? That's okay, I get it, some quiet time doesn't hurt."

I want to, I should be able to, but I can't. Can't whoever that is see that someone or something took away that ability? I tried to say something, make any kind of noise really, but I could only feel cold air where the heavy feeling of words usually were.

"Hey, don't force yourself, I understand. Can you nod or shake your head?"

I think so.

"Hey, there we go, good job."

I guess I nodded.

"Did something happen?"

Nod.

"Do you need anything?"

Shake.

"Do you wanna sit down?"

Nod.

"Can I touch you so we can sit down?"

Nod.

I felt something, I'm guessing it was whoever was talking's hands, on both my shoulders, and they helped sit me down.

"There we go. Do you want me to leave?"

Shake.

"Can I sit next to you?"

Nod.

So they did.

It was a strange sensation.

My vision hadn't blacked out, I could still see things happening around me, but it was kind of blurred around the edges, like a dream almost.

Same for my hearing, I knew there were probably sounds coming from the person sitting next to me and from myself and from the other life around us, but it almost sounded like tv static.

I came back to earth, in a way, after an undetermined amount of time, and regained my senses.

The ground I was sitting on was hard, of course it was, it's the ground.

I reached my hand out from sitting in my lap, curled into a fist and playing absentmindedly with a bit of my cloak, expecting to find the smooth floor at my fingertips, and instead brushing against soft grass. I lifted my head and looked around, expecting to see walls and decor, instead landing my eyes on other building structures and landscape. I plucked a flower that was growing with a small collection of others in arms reach and began to play with the delicate petals.

When did I get outside? Oh right someone was with me. When did we get outside?

My throat didn't feel as cold or empty, so I tried to clear it, testing the ability to make noise again, and apparently succeeded.

"Hey buddy."

Big eyes. Kind smile. Chiseled jawline.

"Foolish."

"The one and only. Feeling any better?"

I cleared my throat and let my eyes wander to the flowers again.

"Not totally up for taking yet still?"

"It's fine. Just. Don't know what to say."

"Would questions help?"

"Okay."

"Do you know what made you feel like this quiet time needed to happen?"

"Mhm."

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"Maybe. Not right now though. Is that okay?"

"Course it is. Doesn't have to be any of my business if you don't want it to be. Wanna sit here a bit longer?"

"Okay."

I continued to fidget by messing with and picking at the skin around my fingers, because I didn't know what else to do, until my hands were gently separated.

I was confused and mentally searched for something to do with my source of physical stimming suddenly gone, until something was placed in my hands, a flower.

Foolish had moved to sit in front of instead of beside me, and was just moving his hands from hovering above mine after placing the flower, which I gently started to use as a fidget instead.

"Sorry. Just didn't want you to hurt yourself."

We made eye contact.

"I wasn't. I don't think."

He paused, mouth slightly agape.

"Oh. That's okay. Doesn't that feel better to mess with though?"

I moved the fingers on one hand to grasp the flower, the other five fingers brushing against the petals, gently taking in as much detail as I could.

"Maybe."

His eyes dropped slightly but his smile was still soft.

"Okay. I can work with that."

I continued to stim, occasionally glancing from the flower to Foolish, who's eyes searched the landscape, which I appreciated, being perceived in general isn't the greatest feeling but especially in moments like this, I cleared my throat to let him know it was okay to make eye contact again.

"Hi Bad."

"I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"I don't know. Everything. What I did."

"What did you do?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but stopped to consider the question. What did I do? Why was I apologizing? He must have seen the cogs in my brain turning so he spoke up.

"Are you apologizing because you think you should or because you know you should?"

"I think."

"I think so too. Why do you think you should? Because I think whatever you're feeling or whatever thoughts are playing pinball inside that head of yours just means you're alive."

My mouth stayed open like I was going to respond, but I didn't try saying anything, I just put down the flower.

"Foolish."

"Mhm?"

I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around him.

"Oh. Guess we're hugging. Okay."

My grasp loosened slightly in uncertainty. I should have asked. But he didn't loosen his, it actually got a bit tighter.

I guess this was okay. I guess I did okay. I guess I would be okay.

#mcyt #qsmp #badboyhalo #foolish gamers #mcytholidayexchange2023 #fanfic #creative writing

[grison-in-space]

Hi. I am stuck in how to get a job I want. How did you do it? The little I know about it, sounds cool.

Ahahahaha. I'm not sure how great my job actually is, but it does give me the opportunity to chase down questions. It's also pretty good for adapting to my various neurodivergences because the hours are flexible and it's got a high tolerance for an absolutely batshit random scattering of skills.

On the other hand, it doesn't pay for shit and I spent eight years getting my PhD and making even worse money, so. And it requires so much moving. Traditionally, I should be done here within a few more years—I've already been at my current position two years but I'm doing a weird thing that is moving slowly—and then have to make an interstate or even intercontinental move. In practice, I may change careers again to avoid that: eight years of PhD in Texas left me with some pretty bad scarring, and I don't know that I have it in me to move again.

Anyway, you asked how I got here. I have a basically boring career progression for an academic: I started by working in a lab tech during undergrad, and then I applied for PhD programs during my senior year. I really should have taken another year or two to grow up some more and figure my shit out, but that's hindsight. My program was oriented around ecology, evolution, and behavior, with a distinct slant towards evolution; I worked with a behavior lab within that. I graduated in 2020, which was incredibly bad timing: normally, after you get the PhD you go work for a year or two in a lab under a senior scientist that heads the lab (a PI or Primary Investigator). Their grant pays your salary, right? But no one was hiring during COVID, because everyone good to work with I had been cultivating was hunkering down and not taking new people; they were busily sheltering existing postdocs or students in place, or the funding opportunities we had planned to pursue together dried up and were outright canceled in the wake of COVID. Not that I'm bitter. I wound up making a huge field move in order to stay in academia and keep doing work I cared about, which has meant leaving EEB and moving into neuroscience.

Less specifically, if you want to know how I got into a job I liked? I did (and do) a lot of yelling on the internet, both pseudonymously and under my real name, about the things I think and feel strongly about. One of those things went moderately viral back in 2017, and my now-boss saw it and loved it. I approached her about a potential job when my other opportunities fell through, and she had money and she made space for me. I'm extremely grateful.

In my experience, the best way to get a job you like is to talk a lot and compliment all the people you genuinely think are doing cool things. Even if you're shy—and I am, I have leveraged the hell out of the internet to do this because it takes so many fewer spoons for me than making friends in person—you gotta take the risk and spread out friendly communications with a real wide net.

Focus on finding people doing stuff you think is interesting and give them honest compliments, then ask questions. Lots of low grade positive interactions, and you want to invest more in talking to people who also talk back to you. I have had good luck with mostly approaching other low ranking new folks like me; they tend to be more surprised and delighted by compliments and then they're willing to give me a little more attention. If people don't respond I shrug and move on: the important thing is that I try to make the people around me whose work impresses me feel good about that. I am a really critical person by nature, so I work hard at deliberately looking for things to praise in the work of people around me.

Anyway, you asked how I got here, and the short answer is, I made a lot of good friends and that saved my ass when I wound up in a tight place.

#Day job #Academia #I do love my job but it is frequently absolutely exhausting #And I fantasize about security a lot

[littleblueberryartist]

One personal gripe I have with TLT was that Annabeth mentioned that monsters often posed as doctors to medicate Demigods and dull their battle reflexes.

Cuz like as much as I love the series for being my first exposure to ADHD/dyslexia/neurodivergent representation. And the fact that it was about positive representation and solidarity in that.

Demonizing medication is,,,,,

So anyway canon is a suggestion and I'm going to ramble about my neurodivergent demigods thoughts (mainly focusing on ADHD because that's what I personally have)

My mini retcon is that Annabeth was misinformed and distrusting of adults because of her past

And like. Annabeth grew up at camp which is full of other neurodivergent kids that get it and accomodate her. It doesn't make her learning disabilities less disabling at times, but it likely meant that existing unmedicated didn't impact her nearly as badly as Percy or any of the other kids that weren't year rounders. So I think her views on the matter would be more detached as a result. She was also really young and I like to think she learns better in the future (maybe when she starts college bc the self directness of tertiary education hell is how I got diagnosed lol)

I wouldn't be surprised that monsters might try and disguise themselves as doctors, since if they're looking for demigods, that would be one way to find them. But I'm taking the "most doctors are monsters to try and medicate the half bloods" lore and throwing it out the window actually.

If anything I think it'd be better if it was more like. A representation of the doctors that won't listen to their patients, or the ones that maybe leave it *all* to the meds to help the kid or placate parents because believe me for a lot of people, me included, just meds are not enough.

I'm not completely sure how I'd go about it? Maybe they're trying to be doctors but because they're actually monsters they're not actually doing a good job??? Something about the importance of finding a good doctor??? But anyway that's the gist

Medication is not a cure all and it won't turn you into a zombie unless your dosage is wrong or the specific type of medication isn't for you. It's is so important to still have it as an option even if they're not for everyone and not demonize something that can genuinely help (even if the side effects can suck at times rip)

And like jokes on you my ADHD makes my thoughts jump so quickly that even if I notice the little things I will simply be on the next thing before I process. What battle reflexes? At least with meds I can focus on the things I notice djfjfjfjf

Anyway now that that's been covered onto the other ramblings!

Correct me if I'm wrong but I vaguely remember Percy talking about how his willpower crumbles at caffeine and how ironically soft drinks calmed him down (it's not ironic Percy it is simply how ADHD be sometimes)

So like

Even if the campers aren't medicated I wouldn't be surprised if a lot of them self medicate with caffeine anyway like a lot of irl ppl do. (I've tried to self medicate with coffee a couple of times before I got diagnosed tho it always just made me sleepy)

I'd like to think that the Romans do actually have really good adhd healthcare bc as much as they're about battle and honing your skills they also have a whole ass city where you don't have to worry about monsters. Part of the reason ADHD is disabling is the environment, and in the books it's also what makes them good and necessary for a battle scenario. But these guys aren't battling! They're living peacefully in the city! So like I think they can afford to "dull one's senses" a bit.

This also extends to good healthcare in general. They're a society of largely neurodivergent people, which often come with other co-morbidities so it would make sense for them to expand to accommodate those too. Not to mention they're warriors, likely resulting in a good number of physically disabled residents. So it makes sense for them to cover all of that and have accessible infrastructure.

As far as I'm aware there was no confirmation whether legacies were neurodivergent and they make up a good chunk of New Rome. But!!! Since a lot of neurodivergencies (especially the focus of the books ADHD and dyslexia) are hereditary I'm gonna go ahead and say yeah lmao

Anyway new worldbuilding challenge let the Apollo (both Roman and Greek) kids work together with the Hecate/Trivia kids to make an ADHD med equivalent without as many of the irl drawbacks or smt I would kill to be able to focus without the cost of hunger be gone and meds crash superhell

#percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #riordanverse #annabeth chase #heroes of olympus #hoo #New Rome #neurodivergency #ADHD #actually adhd #headcanon #the lightning thief #aqua's ramblings

[fierceawakening]

You know, it's funny to me to think back on the empathy discussion and how clearly I was talking about my mom being a kind of crappy parent because she wasn't even trying to acknowledge or understand how I felt about anything ever, and how that wounded me... and all people could say was that I have bad politics.

Maybe it's true that two adults can have a purely transactional relationship that's as fulfilling to each party as an emotionally attentive one is for me. I still doubt that, and I don't think I've seen anything close to evidence that proves it's true (people who have started off telling me they have relationships like this and it's fine have VERY OFTEN later confessed to me that it is in fact emotionally draining and annoying enough times that I think they're either not admitting it at the outset or don't realize what I'm comparing it to.)

But I still don't think a child and their primary caretaker can, because the child is just starting to figure out life. They're just starting to understand what feelings ARE. It's profoundly important that their primary caretaker treat them... not as if every feeling is equally important and not even as if every feeling is even comprehensible... but like the feelings are real, understandable on some level, and forgivable.

That's what I wasn't treated like, and that's why when people say "people who lack empathy are more likely to be abusive" it sounds right to me, not like prejudice. Because if you're not naturally attentive to how another person feels and you turn out to have some kind of power over them (maybe you're the older partner, maybe you have the money, maybe you have the prestigious job, whatever) and you're not profoundly aware of this, you might very well do some of the stuff my mom did to me to them.

I don't think she MEANT to hurt me either. But I think that, to her, she has feelings and I have odd aberrations and scary outbursts (which to everyone else are normal minor expressions of annoyance), so it's just plain logical sense for people to soothe her emotionally but to chastise me for being so rude.

And while being like this is... comprehensible (I think I just plausibly explained it), it's not actually morally neutral. It's hurtful, ESPECIALLY to children. The person should stop, and if they don't they're culpable even if stopping would mean facing a hell of a lot of things they don't want to admit they have done and keep doing.

Neurodivergences like ASPD or NPD might explain it, but they don't excuse it. Find a way to make sure your kid gets what they need. They're your kid. If they're neurotypical and you're not, that's not something they did to you, it's just chance.

[apocalypselog]

Neurodiverse/Autistic Tips for Working Retail

I recently started a retail job for the summer. Despite being a good job, it has been stressful, mostly because of my neurodivergence. I’ve learned a lot about handling this sort of job. I don’t know if this will be useful for anybody, but here’s some tips that helped me:

Communication

The worst part of a new job is that I have no idea what’s going on. I don’t know what task to do. I don’t know how to do my tasks. I don’t know how to find my manager. I don’t know what questions to ask my manager- ad infinitum. Asking questions (which is difficult, I get it) helps you get over the lost feeling early and lower the stress of trying to figure out what’s going on.

When I told my therapist how anxious I was about the various aspects of work, she told me to ask my supervisor “I don’t really know what’s going on, so I’ll probably have a lot of questions. How do you want me to ask you questions?” This lets the supervisor know that you will have questions and lets you know how to ask them (text, walk up and ask, etc), taking away just a little more stress.

Do your best to communicate with your manager about your needs, questions, etc. Having a script to ask questions may help if you’re really nervous. Remember, the more you communicate now, the easier it will probably be in the future.

Scripts

Scripts are your best friend, especially if you’re in customer service. Unless you’re behind the customer service desk, most of the questions you get are going to be some variation of “Do you have this item” or “I need grass seed which one do I get” or “Where can I find the sprinkers?” Having scripts helps get through these interactions. Here are some of mine:

“I’m not sure, let me look it up.” (For the “do you have a specific item” question.)

“Good question. Just a moment while I ask my manager.”

(For answering the phone:) “Outside Lawn and Garden, how may I help you?” (listen to question) “Okay, just a minute while I look that up.” (put customer on hold and look up item/look for a manager.)

It’s perfectly fine if you don’t know the answer to a customer’s question. (At my job, we’re not supposed to say “I don’t know” or “I’m new” or “That’s not my department”. First, it will be okay if you do say that. Second, there are different ways to say the exact same thing: “I’m not sure, let me check,” or “That’s a good question, let’s find someone who can answer it.”)

Shift Length

Even a job we’re familiar with can be difficult once we do it too long, and it’s even worse with a new job. I worked an 8 hour shift, which was hell, and have been scheduled for several 9 hour shifts in the future. T_T

In the interest of conserving your spoons, I recommend that you ask to be scheduled for shorter shifts. (I’m planning to ask for a maximum of 6-7 hours- obviously this depends on the person. I’m planning to ask for it as an accommodation for my anxiety or OCD since I don’t have an autism diagnosis.)

If you can’t manage to get that accommodation, it’s important to keep track of your breaks and lunches. Hopefully your work gives you breaks- use them. Make sure to eat and drink water when you go on breaks- having a treat to look forward to at your break also helps.

When I have breaks that I can take when I want, I struggle to take them when I start getting tired, in the interest of “saving” them. I don’t know if that’s a broader autistic trait, but if it is, ignore that instinct. Take a break, try to regain some spoons. You’ll thank yourself later.

Miscellaneous

Auditory Processing Disorder can make it difficult to hear what customers are asking about. I work in the garden center and everything has weird names, so that makes it even harder, especially if it’s over a phone call. My hack is to ask the customer to spell it. I have sometimes struggled to understand what letters they’re saying, but overall it’s easier than trying to understand a garbled word, or asking the customer to repeat themselves five times. (Script- “Okay, let me look up that item. How do you spell it?”)

If at all possible, wear comfortable clothing. Trust me, after a few hours every sensory sensitivity you have with clothes will be blaring. (If you are, say, watering plants, bring extra socks/shoes. Wet feet are the worst /gen. Definitely not speaking from experience /s.)

If you can, find a place where you can go to be alone, take a deep breath, stim, etc. The bathroom is one choice- gender neutral/family/single stall bathrooms are the best option but even an ordinary stall might be enough. After work, you’re going to be low on spoons- have coping stuff in your car for after work. (I have music ready to play.)

Bring stim toys! I wear my stim ring and a big chonky gothic cross that I can fiddle with. Stimming helps a lot. (People probably won’t care, and if they do, they suck and I’ll punch them for you. If you don’t want to stim in public, the bathroom is probably your best option.)

#actually neurodivergent #actually autistic #actually OCD #retail #spoon theory #I don't know if this will be helpful to anyone but this has helped me #thank you to the peeps who gave advice on other tips to add

[37q]

my last two jobs before this one, my bosses (before my sandwich shop co-gm quit) could probably be placed somewhere within neurodivergency, and it showed with how they operated and presented things. every little detail mattered if we wanted it to, and they were never put off from over-communication (unless my farmer boss could tell i was bogging myself down).

i was never afraid to clarify our conclusions into oblivion, either! maybe it has to do with ny proactiveness... or maybe i was just able to comprehend and coordinate work that im used to. yknow, need to be aware of what my constants and variables are so i can properly navigate and act on my own savvy.

but also that degree of comfort gave me a frame of reference for, well, what the hell details am i even supposed to pay attention to or tweak? i know food prep, i know management, im adept in operations and business finance and essential facilities maintenance. i make strong decisions, and im unafraid to execute them and wrap up the results.

for example. when someone says "clean this" do they mean a a swipe, a scrub, a chemical solution? when someone says "clean this room" do they mean back to its previous state? was i there to witness its default? i can pull out storage racks and deck scrub and agitate the fuck out of drain gunk, but if you only want me to organize then you need to say that.

ive received so many different trainings at every one of my jobs, and the gradual routine of such protocol instinctualized that kind of work. i have all the training and practice, i just need the work. like, i can only be perfect when im provided with reasonable conditions for it. once im briefed and autonomously beefed up im a labor fireball!

the funny thing? due to my reliance on formal training and protocol, im floundering under the pressure at this job without that autonomy i need. yeah, i was never trained. i had a shadow day, and i helped out until i was assigned my own events. every event is different, every detail is its own variable, and none of it can be articulated between coworkers. apparently.

this job is wayyyy more culture-centric. its overloaded with investor- and donor-interfacing, suffocated in a blanket of respectability, and driven by an impetus of socialized tact, sense, reason, and procedure. im finding myself slipping through the cracks of teamwork because so much communication is vague, on the understanding that someone getting the gist of your message will translate to perfect results. like a game of telephone, but half the people dont even care enough to try to mischievously distort the transmission.

i need to read that one article kai rereads every now and then. idr the exact name but its about white supremacy in the workplace. i remember a point about structure and formalization... im curious what alienating role that workplace culture plays in the grand scheme of white supremacist sterility.

[messengerhermes]

How to Change Your Suit

Content Warning: This post discusses coping with suicidal thoughts (also known as suicidal ideation)

I'm gonna speak from experience here. Suicidal Thoughts (ST) show up in my life when I find myself feeling trapped in my life rather than living my life. This started in childhood for me and over time I've learned to recognize these feelings of hopelessness and being stuck as indicators that my metaphorical suit isn't fitting anymore. It is helpful to realize "oh, I don't actually want to burn this suit, but I definitely don't want to wear it as it is anymore," but it's also daunting. After all, I put so much work into that suit, and people in my life have helped me get that suit to how it is, and now I'm saying I don't like it? Who am I to reject a perfectly good suit? And also, where the hell do I even start in changing it? What if I change it and I still hate it? Darlings, your suit is yours. If it does not fit right, if it's scratchy, if it doesn't suit you, you have the right to transform and play with it a hundred times over to find a style that fits. And you don't have to do it all at once. Especially if you're finding yourself in the pit of depression when your bones ache and all the world tastes like ash. As always, take what works from this post and leave what doesn't, but here are some of the guidelines I keep in mind when I start to notice my suit not fitting:

Assess things by categories: What are the parts I am happy with in my suit? What are the parts that bother me, and how do they make me feel? What things are internal (a thing that comes from within me, ie my thoughts, my skills, my emotions)? What things are external (my living situation, support system, job/school, et al)? Make note of things I want to keep and things I want to change.

Start Small: It's a lot easier to swap out the buttons on a suit than replace the lining. Looking at my "stuff I want to change" section, I come up with "fast, medium, slow" changes I can make. For example, if I'm unhappy about my appearance, a fast change is buying myself clippers and cutting my hair how I want, a medium change might be phasing out wardrobe items that I no longer like and introducing new ones, and a slow change might be exploring HRT. Some items may be solved in a single quick fix, some may be slow fixes that you switch up halfway through. The point is to get yourself to think of these things as changeable instead of fixed in stone.

Invite others into the process: I get this is scary as shit and your mileage may vary on this. Others does not have to be your family of origin. It can be friends, it can be found family. If you have access to counseling in some form, whether group or individual, that can be a huge help. It can be looking up online support groups for depression, for an identity you would like community around (parenting, gender, divorce, neurodivergence, et al). Having access to places where you get to share about struggling and wanting to change, and also witness folks sharing about their own paths, helps break down isolation and create spaces for mutual care. You are not in this alone.

Seek out new additions. Sometimes the tricky part about feeling stuck in your suit is feeling something is missing, but you aren't sure what. This is where I start writing down all the shit I've wanted to try and what the barriers are to me trying it. Once I have my list, I repeat steps two and three. For example, I've felt ashamed of envying cosplayers who could make their own costumes for years. I had a sewing machine from childhood, and a couple years ago, I looked up free patterns online, bought some clearance fabric, watched a fuckton of videos, and sewed my first dress. Now sewing is a big part of my creative life. On the flip side, as a teenager, I got curious about bookbinding. So I checked out some resources from the library, looked at some blogs, stitched a couple books from dollar store sketchbook paper and lost interest. But I still enjoyed bookbinding when I was doing it, and it was not a waste to learn it. Explore things where you feel called to, let yourself pick things up and put them down. Engage in community, online and in meatspace.

Create a space of security. This is another tricky one, particularly if you're in an abusive environment or one where you don't have a lot of control. Maybe your safe space is not where you live. Maybe it's a swing at the park. Maybe it's a forgotten corner of the library. Maybe it's a cafe. Maybe it's inside your journal and between a pair of headphones. Maybe it's a playlist. But, whatever sense of security you can build for yourself, prioritize spending time in that space even for just five minutes a day.

My suit has looked so many different ways throughout my life. At times, I've felt like it would never fit right again, or would never be anything other than a joke to other people. And maybe some people would find my suit funny. But my suit belongs to me. I have the right to make it what I wish and to use whatever agency I have to transform it how I please. Everytime I have the urge to burn it, I pause. I consider who stands to benefit from me hating my suit, from me hating myself. I consider what radical power there might be in becoming. I will not throw my suit or myself away. I will remake us, as many times as we need. I hope you snatch your suit from the fire, every time. I hope you keep making something new with it. I'm excited to see what you will do. Again and again and again. I know they'll be brilliant.

#cw depression #cw sui thoughts #cw sui ideation #coping skills #depression skills #therapy #mental health tools #mental health support #mental health awareness #please stay #reinvent yourself

[redvelvetpdf]

If you're like actually interested in therapy I can suggest a couple of places that can be a good start! You're states local mhmr (mhmr is Texas specific but every state will have something similar. Mhmr stands for my health my resources and I don't remember what the hell the SC version is). Not every states version is good, however. Through mhmr I was able to get med help, which meant I didn't pay a single cent for my meds. I was also able to find help to get on disability or to find a job if I needed. Here in SC I can barely find a decent place for therapy, Just Therapy, let alone med management. Which isn't surprising. Ever want to see why a Christian Country wouldn't work just come to fucking SC. There is also an app called teladoc, it is NOT like BetterHelp, especially since it helps you find doctors in mental health, general health, and dermatologist, there's a fourth one I just can't remember what it is currently. I found a psychologist or the other thing?? Idk anyway I found someone to help me manage my meds through teladoc and w/out insurance it was 230. My first psyche even w/ insurance was 200. I've only had one app tho so that might change depending on the help I need lmfao, but therapy isn't usually Super Expensive. There's also the website psychologytoday.com that can help you find therapist in your area and sometimes they have the price listed and sometimes you have to call because they have to go through your insurance and such. The website also offers the ability to look for therapist that specialize in certain things, such as trauma, lgbt, depression, relationship issues, and basically anything else that is a specialization, which is everything lmfao. If you just wanted asks and this was stupid long winded way to get to it... sorry aha

What's your favorite sweet?

thank you so much anon, i wish i could actually use this, but i have parents who refuse to believe i'm neurodivergent even as i very clearly have ocd, anxiety, and show signs of depression, adhd and autism. and when i try to bring that up, they say that those are "serious issues" (as if i dont know that) and i'm being silly. so yes i am very much screwed but thank you again <3

hmm probably kaju barfi, idk if you know about that, it's like a cashew based sweet cut into a rhombus. what about yours?

#nyx answers🌒 #anon beloved <33

[anarglitch]

about twitter (or how I learned to get back to worrying and stop loving the bomb)

Maybe a global 'public square' doesn't lead to worldwide empathy, but to a planet-sized arena of miscommunication where a 15 y/o english student with ADHD fights a 53 y/o cuban programmer over the ethics of self-diagnosis with both sides throwing personal anectodes at the other.

I don't wanna think that's the case, I wanna believe in the promise of the internet, but I'm not sure I can point to the algorithm filter bubbles or even the low character limit and state that that's the cause of all our problems.

It makes things *worse* though, don't get me wrong.

Wait, no, my whole point is that you *will* probably get me wrong, cause we probably don't share the same (or are even cognizant of each other's) cultural background, experience, neurodivergences or even mother tongue, twitter is a final fantasy boss designed by Wittgenstein.

All these barriers *can* be crossed if we come from a place of curiosity rather than judgement and take the time to learn about each other, but we're not gonna (and can't) do that to 500 strangers every day, and that sucks, I love the lack of structure in twitter .. in theory.

But maybe tumblr (and even reddit) work a bit better *because* they're more atomized (tumblr isn't as organized, but you're still far less exposed to random stuff from completely outside your circles), the dream of the mega-agora is appealing, and maybe someone somewhere will make a version of it that really will nail it, that will lead to people understanding and valuing their differences, but the versions of it we've had so far just remove all context from everyone we meet, which lead to more and more generalizations, cause that's how we came to think about each other.

My primarily experience with "popular tweets" was seeing broad sweeping statements about "men" or "women", or "incel cryptobros" or "leftist sjws", even sillier labels like "swfties" or "k-pop stans", the average interaction there is trying to figure out which boxes someone fits to speedrun human interaction, and that's... how an algorithm thinks.

I don't even think it's wrong, I did my best to communicate I fit the boxes "anarchist", "adhd", "non-binary", "artist", "retro sci-fi anime fan", I block alt-right weirdos on sight and make fun of checkmarks, I have practically pre-written replies to some kinds of people, but every now and then I feel the slight existential dread of realizing I could program a bot to do *the exact same thing*.

That's not what I wanna use my brain for, I've read big threads of different people fighting in different years play out virtually the exact same way, we're responding to decontextualization by adopting the same generalized signals, and I don't wanna become a bot, man.

What I mean is that neural networks trained to "sound human" are fed countless tweets by random people from all walks of life to try to mimic this amorphous idea of a vague human who doesn't have any of the individual qualities of a person.

And that's what I was doing, too.

I had a tumblr before, ages ago. I was still checking boxes then, mainly about fandoms, and every version of living online will involve some of that. But I believe that there's a healthy version to be achieved, communicating shorthands for who you are and what you like so you can find potentially likeminded people. Maybe I can achieve that here, again.

I think I did once, when I was too young to even realize it, and then I left it all and swam towards the social media event horizon.

See, the thing about working from home, online, is that I never really stopped spending the majority of my time in a computer, more than most of my IRL friends, most of whom have real world jobs and are sure as hell a lot closer to a balance than I am.

I kept thinking of the internet like entertainment, not too different from TV or video-games, so I kept looking to what drew my attention more effectively, just go where the current takes me, why would I put rules on fun? But it hasn't been fun. It hasn't been fun for a while, now. Because I didn't give myself rules, and the "current" metaphor doesn't work when there's an actual poseidon made of code controlling the direction of the currents.

Sometimes, you have to consciously chase the fun.

So, you know, hi.

#twitter #tumblr #leaving twitter #social media #elon musk #extremely online #online life

[smiletimeisrunningout]

Headcanon: Emma vs ableism (and class oppression, kind of?)

When it comes to disability and ableism, Emma’s education had no specific focus on it; but the way she was raised was all about ‘help those in need’ ‘don’t hurt others the way you don’t want to be hurt’ ‘you are here to serve and protect’ and that guides her. She may not have a deep knowledge when it comes to mental illnesses, and believes in the power of love and hope helping you face your struggles even if you have ptsd or anxiety (to be fair therapy doesn’t exist so that’s all she has left), but she does have an intimate understanding of how trauma and depression work and is both terrified of them and very sympathetic (doesn’t believe in the power of love fixing those because she’s learned most times it doesn’t work with the latter, but does believe it can make things better because it did for her). She’s sure as hell not going to judge someone over being neurodivergent like that, but will adapt her behavior, like not asking the most anxious maid to work on the most stressful ball. Of course she’s limited by the ignorance on the subject that exists in her world and time.   When it comes to physical disability she’s traveled so much, got so involved in the lives of others, that of course she ended up seeing way too many people struggle over this, over rulers not taking care of them, over others mistreating them. And she gets positively feral when she sees that level of abuse because she’s seen too much.  No matter the type of physical or mental disability, the more unfairness she sees in how people behave against the person who has it, the more violently she’ll react. There is no disparity because the disabled person is capable of fighting back just fine? She’ll still be grossed out and want to hurt people too because they are bad. When not in an extreme situation like that she’ll wait to react until she knows how the person feels about it, because it feels reductive to offer a hand as if they can’t possibly be doing fine.  Also she’ll personally work with them to find ways to help, whether it is big charity that they need or a job that they can do, possibly relocating them to the town close to her castle.

And to be fair she’s also very violent in general when she sees things like an adult wanting to hurt a kid, a man against a woman who isn’t trained and so on. If it’s someone who can’t even try to defend themselves because... missing limbs or sick or even just a peasant against a ruler (unlike, say, a simply smaller man against a bigger one) then it’s vile to her and she doses her punishment accordingly. But to her there is a big difference between four men attacking an inn owner for his money, which she’ll beat up bloody, and a group of people mistreating a disfigured woman or a man who can’t walk easily. In the latter situation she’s breaking every bone in their body and then talking.

She makes mistakes (you are not supposed to protect a disabled person by making the person who is attacking them also disabled, you know?) whether she means well or not. Thing is, she’s a ‘honorable knight’ who fights like a pirate and who lives in a casually cruel and ableist society. So of course that takes a special spot due to sheer opportunity to act on it and how dishonorable it feels. 

#headcanons #in a recent thread she beat up people bloody over attacking a dragon #because the dragon wasn't fighting back #so yeah she does have a white knight thing #pun intended #and she's trying really hard but she's not infallible and I always want that to be clear

[emeraldcreeper]

The main problem with a chronic pain issue isn’t actually the pain part it turns out, it’s the way your grandma says you should try working to have shit to do that makes you want to chew glass forever, as if I can when I can’t go outside because I’m almost automatically existing with a migraine between 6 and 9 on the pain scale, I can’t work through that I’ll cry or scream at someone to shut the fuck up and not breathe so loudly, which is rude, and my goal right now is don’t die and take the possible placebo shits that don’t prevent migraines worth a damn

I still want to be an lpc just google what they do for Christ’s sake, I can’t think of WORDS especially without prepping that shit, I wanna help people, then maybe do academia, because you need a level up from what I wanna do to do college shit, while I wanna be dr lastname redacted, it’s radical, I want a real big boy job before I do that shit, I’d kill before working in a school as anything but a school psychologist, but that’s another psyD thing, it’s fucking complicated, and takes T I M E which I can’t do before my physical and mental health are as good as sorted will get!

But hey, when I pepper in the fact I’m positive I’m autistic to a therapist over the phone and it gets me toward diagnosed, in a roundabout way, it won’t work but I will whine until it does I’m a girlboss it’s fine, maybe she will shut the fuck up about me not working(dr Devon price says maybe in unmasking autism, it gives me hope and the book is good as hell), autism can’t work retail, it’s masking hell and I lose it after a couple hours they won’t like it if I go dead fish eyed and consider my interests for too long and if I go on about psychology shit on the clock they’d find me rude and uninteresting and unhireable (and my deep hatred of all German psychologists ever, except you Jung you can stay, but not like within modern research the persona and animus and shadow intrigue me especially within fictional characters who have a persona they use as a mask also within coding of neurodivergence but even outside it there’s— aaaaand I’m kicked out the door immediately! I cannot do jobs currently when I cannot mush my brain through psychology until I’m sick of it!)

#my goal isn’t at the get a job work and do school phase #it’s at the dont die level #it’s bad to say that though #sounds like I’m not doing so hot and can’t ever sleep #I haven’t slept right since 4 months ago #I AM NOT IN THE PLANNING OR DECIDING STATE #I do wanna infodump about fictional characters within psychological theory but I can’t with my big boy brain being all soupy and bad #like man I wanna discuss the way specific characters who use like a tough guy or insane act to push back on expectations SO BAD

[bethanysnow]

Uni rant about the ethics of forced consumption of triggering topics and graphic reading material based on male cock stroking of my professors want for academia.

FUCK MY PROFESSOR SO MUCH OH MY GOD.

I am one person, I am a simple person, I am also of WEAK CONSTITUTION! I AM ALWAYS GOING TO BE!!!

There should be a way to to acknowledge the lives students live. If they find that there is a piece of media or content that they find would be detrimental to their well being there should be an alternative.

HOW IS DANTE’S INFERNO GOOD FOR THE MODERN ERA?????? THERE ISN’T A REASON WE SHOULD BE FORCED TO READ THIS!! It is a weird pseudo religious snuff book about what happens to people according to this weird fuckin poet guy in italy who really needed to go to therapy. I feel bad for his wife. Also!! When and why did we decide this was the peak? This giant fucking text was the most profound piece of lit in the fuckin world in academia like all the old white guys in tweed jackets trying to give this fucker a blow job-

THIS SHOULD BE LET GO INTO THE ETHER IT DOESN’T NEED THE LORE THE WESTERN WORLD HAS CREATED!! ITS ALSO KINDA BADLY WRITTEN JUST SAYING! Not that im a great writer, but my guy!

What snuff film porno was this guy into to THAT HE CREATED THE BRUTALIST IDEAL OF HELL THAT WOULD CREATE THE MODERN IDEOLOGY AND STRUCTURE AS WE KNOW TODAY?!

If I got to time travel I would first punch Socrates in the dick, THEN ITS THIS GUY! Then my professor! OH We have barely begun to discuss the lack of a bedside manner my professor has! One of unforgiving countenance and a demeanor of fuck you-itive ness that I haven’t seen in years!! Whatever pretentious stick is up his ass he needs to either stop edging himself or get off it because right now he is a opinion that isn’t his away from gorging on his own prostate because his head that far up his own ass. He is a jackass and has the vibe similar to that of a sanctimonious prick that was on his way to oxford and failed so this bastard motherfucker said fine ill make it everyone else's problem even though it was his own failing. This man should not be a professor! He shouldn’t! God forbid be the teacher if a class be that of neurodivergance and alternative brain function! One must tow down to that of their face be mushed against the dirty peon floor to his oh so high and mighty naked emperor!

*sigh*

#uni rant #uni #beth thoughts

[magicrainbowkitties]

Way outta line for what I usually post. But. Fucking christ on a stick.

So my friend is in a REALLY fucking bad situation with her family. My other friend and I are film students. The 3 of us all wanna work together on projects and shit. So naturally, we'd all like to move out together and get an apartment. Simple, right? I mean we're all 20-ish, it's a wonder we didn't move right outta high school, right? WRONG.

We're in Austin. Fucking. Texas.

The cheapest rental apartment we've found for 3 bedrooms (and before you say we could share, no we can't. We're all neurodivergent, we're all introverts. We all NEED our own space). Was base rent 1710. And we had to push for them to show it to us.

As most places do, they require a statement of a total household income of at least 3x base rent.

1710 x 3 = 5130

Now. Most places around here, if they've caught up, pay somewhere in the neighborhood of a starting pay of 15-18 an hour. But let's be generous and say we all found $20 an hour jobs. We're all students, so let's say we're all part-time and work an average of 20 hours a week.

20 x 20 = $400 a week

$400 x 4 weeks in a month = $1600 a month per person

$1600 x 3 people = $4800 total household income.

$5130 target -$4800 = $330 we don't have, we can't afford the cheapest apartment we can find.

And that's saying something too. The average rent in this town is well over $2100. We found a diamond in the fucking rough and we still can't afford it even if we all got perfect fucking jobs.

I need you to look me in the eye, and tell me how THIS is fucking fair! 20 hours doesn't sound like a lot but it's that plus school, volunteer work, networking in film, working on projects, EVERYTHING. It eats up all the time in the goddamn world!

Please for the love of all that one might find holy and sacred, look me in the eye and shake me by the shoulders and say that THIS is ok! Cause it's not! According to fucking American standards, we should all be getting a little help from our parents, but still generally be able to support ourselves and our school lives. But we fucking can't.

Tell me I'm lazy, I'm entitled, that I just need to work harder. Tell me the catch-22 of "you need experience to be hired, but in order to get experience you've gotta be hired" isn't one of the oldest goddamn jokes. Tell me about the bootstraps that mean my friends and I can just make it if we try. Please, tell my friend that she deserves to stay in an abusive household because she can't pull together the money to move out.

I've heard it all, hell I've said it all when I was a stupid kid who didn't know how the world works. But it's never gonna change the fact that this entire fucking system is fundamentally denying all three of us our independence, our future, our ability to live a life.

When I say "this isn't fair," it's not out of childlike entitlement. It's out of rage and a completely logical conclusion.

THIS. IS NOT. FAIR.

#anti capitalism #capitalism #renting #rent is too damn high #austin tx #this is not me asking for money btw

[sugars-fluffy-escapes]

Coworker Bonding

Spencer Reid x Shy!ND!Reader

*Part 1 of Sensibility and Its Open Doors*

SFW; brief angst (very brief), LOTS of fluff~

Words: 3624

Summary: Y/N L/N is diligent, hardworking, and very hell bent on proving their worth as the newest member of the BAU, however, they have serious doubts about opening up to the team due to a severe case of imposter syndrome, as well as fears of facing judgement for being neurodivergent. Spencer is determined to get to know them, and to assure them that they deserve their spot on the team.

Warnings: Imposter syndrome, self doubt, insecurities about being ND, tickles (This is a tickle fic)

DISCLAIMER: This is inspired by my experiences as a neurodivergent individual and how self doubt and imposter syndrome can really take hold even in moments where I know I'm doing a good job with something. Not everyone who's neurodivergent experiences what the reader in this story experiences. I just hope to provide some comfort for my fellow ND people who struggle with the self doubt and fear of judgement from a world that isn't catered to us, more specifically in this story, the workplace.

It had been nearly a month since Y/N had joined the Behavioral Analysis Unit, and despite the teams attempts to encourage them to open up, they remained distant, and even more so outside the office. It was baffling, to say the least. Y/N was efficient and helpful when it came to their job, but whenever the time came to discuss or do anything non-work related, they would quickly find a way to excuse themself from the environment.

The team had just wrapped up a case and boarded the jet to head back home.

"Y/N," Spencer said, waiting for his coworker to look over.

"Yes?"

"Would you like to play poker with us?"

"Oh... Sorry... I'm a bit tuckered out from the case, so I'm gonna try and get some sleep. Thank you, though," Y/N answered. "Have fun, guys."

Spencer nodded with acknowledgement and Y/N walked toward the back of the plane, quickly taking out their headphones, putting on their favorite audiobook, before pulling the blanket over themself and closing their eyes.

"Skipped out on poker again," Derek noted, nodding to the sight of the already sleeping analyst.

"Every time a case is done it's the same routine," Hotch added. "Do you think they're getting enough sleep at home?"

"Do any of us really get enough sleep at home on a regular basis?"

"Fair point," Hotch conceded.

"Has anyone had successful conversations with L/N about anything other than cases?" Emily asked curiously.

"Not that I know of."

"I've tried inviting them to join us at the bar one of these nights, let them know they're more than welcome to, but they declined the offer," JJ stated.

"You ever notice they stay strictly formal with names? They're the only one of us who doesn't use nicknames for the team members."

"They're staying distant on purpose," Rossi muttered.

"But why?"

"Their entire demeanor changes when the topic of conversation shifts from being work related to casual conversation. Have you noticed they avert from eye contact? Their voice gets quiet, they tend to respond with nods or shakes of the head instead of a verbal answer," Spencer explained. "I think that the confidence they display when it comes to work, they feel they don't have with things unrelated to it. L/N's body language and tone during those moments indicate fear and uneasiness. They're afraid to open up in any personal way."

"So, are they shy? Introverted? Socially anxious? You're the genius, Reid. Tell us."

"That's not for me to decide or assume. But, whatever the case may be, they're definitely not wanting us to know much about them."

"I think you should talk to them, Spence," JJ suggested. "Maybe you can encourage them to open up."

"Are you suggesting I psychoanalyze our coworker?"

"Is that not what we're doing right now?" Hotch reminded him.

"Worth a shot, isn't it?" Derek shrugged.

***

The following evening, Y/N decided to stay late to finish up a case report. They had initially thought they were in the office alone, but they weren't. The agent had been so focused on the report that they hadn't noticed Spencer walk in.

"Y/N."

A sharp gasp left Y/N's lips and they jumped in their chair, feeling their heart skip a beat.

"H-Hi, Dr. Reid. Sorry. I didn't hear you come in. I thought everyone else had gone home."

"Y/N, this is the seventeenth time you've stayed at the office late to work on case reports," Spencer noted. "Seventeen late nights in one month with no days off isn't good."

"I'll be fine."

"You don't need to overwork yourself for this job."

"I'm not..."

"Y/N."

Spencer sighed, sitting down a couple feet away as his coworker briefly glanced over at him. "You don't need to be afraid of opening up to us, you know."

Y/N froze and slowly looked back up at him, their heart beat increasing as they tried to think of a way around the subject.

"What makes you say that?"

"You always avoid casual conversation, interaction outside of work, anything that doesn't pertain to the case are questions you avoid answering."

"I'm n-not afraid. I just prefer to keep w-work out of my personal life," they tried to say it without stammering, but knew their façade was slipping.

"Y/N, that isn't what you're doing. You're using work as a shield."

"I-I'm not, I... I..." Y/N trailed off, feeling tears beginning to form but suppressing them.

"Work is the one place you feel focused enough to keep whatever your ashamed of out of the way, isn't it?"

"Quit analyzing me... I'm not an unsub you're trying to make a profile for."

"Y/N."

"Just drop it, please. I need to finish this report."

"The team wants to get to know you, Y/N. You're not obligated to share everything about your life outside of work, but please don't shut us out. We want to be here for you to the best of our ability. Why won't you let us get to know you?"

Those words hit hard and Y/N knew they couldn't argue, but still tried one last time to put that mask back on, looking up to meet Spencer's eyes before tears filled theirs and they had to look away.

"I-I just can't... I..." They tried to make another excuse but a sob left their lips. "I can't, Dr. Reid..."

"Y/N..." Spencer said softly. "I'm sorry, I... I didn't mean to make you feel like this."

"It's not you..." Y/N sobbed. "I just... I can't... I..."

Spencer moved closer and offered his tearful coworker a tissue before opening his arms. "Would it be alright if I gave you a hug?"

Y/N's eyes widened, but they hesitantly accepted, wrapping their arms around his waist, and crying into his shoulder. They shakily tightened their hold, which Spencer took note of, before he did the same.

"It's okay. I promise, Y/N."

Y/N cried harder upon hearing those words of comfort and Spencer gently cradled the back of their head. He held them close until their crying had stopped and their shaking had lessened.

"You shouldn't have to hide so many parts of who you are. We want to get to know you. You don't just have coworkers here. You have friends."

"I-I'm scared," Y/N admitted, pulling back from the hug. "I'm scared that when you guys see me... th-this side of me, executive dysfunction and hyperfixations, my inattentiveness, my stimming, all my rambles where I jump around with details before I finally get to the point, everything I mask while I'm at work... I-I'm..."

"You're scared we won't like you anymore," Spencer finished, as Y/N nodded their head. "Are you neurodivergent?"

Another nod confirmed his question. He'd already had a strong feeling that was the case, and Y/N had a strong feeling he had picked up on the signs the first day they met.

"I've masked for most of my life... it's hard to talk about, but... I worked my ass off for this job... If I don't push myself, I'll fail... I can't fail..." Y/N felt another sob rack through their body and covered their face.

"Hey," Spencer said softly. "Y/N, please look at me?"

Y/N sniffed and shakily lifted their head, nervously looking up at their coworker and tensing briefly when he wiped their tears.

"Sorry."

"I-It's okay."

"You shouldn't have to overwork yourself or mask out of shame and fear in order to get approval from us. This fear of failure, is not as healthy a motivator as you might think."

"B-But-"

"And that fear you have, about us not liking you when you open up, I'm telling you right now, you don't need to be afraid of that happening. It won't happen. I promise you."

"How can y-you be so sure?"

"Because you just opened up to me, Y/N. I'm still sitting here. I still want to get to know you. We all do. This was the first step."

Y/N realized he was right, and tearfully nodded.

"O-Okay," they whispered. "I can try... Thank you, Spencer."

The use of his first name did not go unnoticed, and his heart swelled with joy.

"That's the first time I've heard you call me anything other than Dr. Reid since you joined the BAU," Spencer noted with a smile.

"I'm so sorry, I-"

"Y/N, it's okay. I pointed it out because it's a sign you're starting feel more comfortable. That's good. You don't always have to use formalities with us. I mean, we all call Hotchner 'Hotch.'"

Y/N nodded, timidly fiddling with the fabric of their shirt sleeves.

"I... I didn't realize I'd worked late seventeen times... you kept track?"

"Eidetic memory," Spencer reminded them. "Plus all the times you mentioned you were staying to finish reports and showed up the next morning looking more tired."

"O-Oh...r-right..." Y/N stammered, feeling a bit embarrassed that they hadn't connected that sooner.

"You don't need to feel embarrassed, Y/N," Spencer insisted with a smile. "I promise you, it's alright."

"You guys make profiling look effortless... like magic or something..." Y/N muttered.

Spencer chuckled, and noticed the smallest hint of a smile at the corners of his coworker's lips.

"You say that like you haven't been advancing your profiling skills."

"I didn't feel like I had been..."

"We've noticed it, Y/N. You're doing good. Keep in mind the times you've picked up on what we hadn't."

"You all do that all the time."

"And so do you. You're doing good," Spencer repeated. "Y/N, I know self doubt and uncertainty may get in the way a lot, but we'll be here to reassure you. You should be proud of yourself. You're doing good."

"Thank you," Y/N said, a small smile finally forming on their lips.

It didn't last long, but Spencer was happy to see that Y/N wasn't feeling as ashamed or embarrassed as they had a few minutes before.

"You guys sure you're not wizards or something?" Y/N joked with a quiet, half hearted chuckle.

"Nohot to my knowledge," Spencer laughed. "Haven't seen anyone casting magic spells yet, so."

As he had said the second sentence, he wiggled his fingers in the air, and immediately noted Y/N's breath hitching, and their eyes averting a few times.

"What was that?"

"What was what?"

"Your breath just hitched and you looked away. Something I did caught you off guard."

"It w-was nothing," Y/N insisted.

"That tone of voice... Your body language... You're flustered."

"Why are you still analyzing me?"

"It was when I wiggled my fingers, wasn't it?" Spencer questioned.

"I said it's nothing!" Y/N insisted with a higher pitch in their voice, looking up at Spencer to try to convince him, only for a small squeak to leave their lips when he wiggled his fingers in the air again.

"You're ticklish."

Just hearing the word gave Y/N butterflies in their stomach, and they squirmed the smallest bit, which Spencer noticed, of course. They had to try and convince him otherwise, before he also figured out one of the biggest secrets they'd kept; they liked being tickled.

"S-Spencer...I-I'm NOT-" The timid agent was cut off by their own louder squeak when Spencer repeated the motion a third time and moved closer while he did so. "I-I'm n-not."

"Your voice is higher than usual, Y/N. If you really aren't ticklish, then tell me."

"I just did!"

"You avoided saying the word."

"S-So what?"

"Say it then. Three simple words. 'I'm not ticklish.' That's it."

Y/N cussed under their breath and squirmed in their chair again. "I can't," they squeaked out quietly. "Are we done here?"

"You know, when someone's being tickled, the anticipation is often the worst part. You're already bracing for the sensation and it only gets worse the longer the anticipation builds up," Spencer stated with a smirk, moving even closer and wiggling his fingers again.

Y/N squeaked a third time and tried to stop the giggle from leaving their lips, but failed, their hands moving toward and away from each other as the giddy feeling in their stomach set off their stimming.

"Spehencer..."

They had moved their chair closer to the wall, swearing under their breath when they realized they'd inadvertently cornered themself.

"Wahait, you've proven it already! Quihihit making me gihiggle!"

Y/N squirmed when Spencer wiggled his fingers at a much slower pace than before as he moved his chair even closer, more nervous giggles bubbling in their throat. When he suddenly sped up his fingers and got close to Y/N's sides, they shrieked, unable to suppress their giggling any further as their stimming got more intense.

"Of course, this kind of teasing isn't the only effective method. Verbal teasing can get a ticklish person squirming before the inevitable just as well. Whatever method is used, it's clear it only makes everything tickle more."

Y/N involuntarily squeaked and squirmed upon hearing the word, which Spencer noticed immediately.

"Just hearing the word 'tickle' or any of its variants gets you flustered, doesn't it?"

Y/N's ears were burning just hearing Spencer talking about it and they knew he was doing it on purpose.

"Noho ihit does nohot," they argued, knowing that being stubborn wasn't the most wise decision.

"What would happen if I were to repeat the word while wiggling my fingers, then?"

Y/N's eyes widened. "IhI'll dihihie! I-IhI c-cahan't h-handle it!"

"You can't? You were just insisting the word 'tickle' doesn't fluster you" Spencer teased with a grin. "Are you sure you can't handle it?"

"Yehehes!"

"I don't know, you seemed pretty sure it doesn't. Maybe I should test just to be sure."

"Dohon't youhouhou dahahahare!"

Y/N couldn't keep the grin off of their face and only continued giggling.

"Maybe I won't. That'd just be mean, wouldn't it?"

"Thihis ihihihihihis mehehehehean rehegardlehehess!" Y/N argued.

"It is? Well then, if all of this is mean regardless..." Spencer trailed off before immediately wiggling his fingers and repeating the dreaded word, which made his coworker screech and squirm profusely, giggling even harder as they felt more phantom sensations jolt up their body, making them stim even more.

"So, not only does the word fluster you, but it makes your giggles and squirming increase tenfold. Almost like I'm tickling you without even touching you."

"Stohohop sahahaying ihihit!" They whined, squeaking as his wiggling fingers neared their sides again. "Thihihis ihihisn't fahahahahair!"

"What, the teasing? It is a bit unfair, isn't it? I think I've built up enough anticipation anyway, don't you?" Spencer teased.

"Wahahait, n-no no no nohoho," Y/N stammered, squealing when their coworker moved his wiggling fingers closer to their sides. Their eyes shut as they braced themself, only to be left giggling nervously as the attack never came. After a few seconds, Y/N curiously opened their eyes just in time to see Spencer's hands shoot out and start gently squeezing up and down their sides.

"Spehehenceheher! Hehehey! Wahait! Nohohohooo!"

"I seemed to have forgotten to mention the last method of teasing. The element of surprise after building up the anticipation makes for the perfect attack, don't you think?"

He switched from the gentle squeezing to spidering his fingers and grinned when Y/N's laughter jumped up an octave. "Looks like lighter tickles are much more effective. I should have figured as much, considering me wiggling my fingers was enough to get you squeaking."

Y/N had never been so flustered in their life, but their heart felt happy. It reflected in their stimming too, which was the most outwardly intense their stimming had been in front of a coworker.

"This is the happiest I've ever seen you. It makes sense you would be since you seem to enjoy being tickled."

The giggling agent suddenly felt those butterflies turn into a pit, and they moved to hide their face in their hands, feeling their breath hitch when Spencer stopped them from doing so.

"Y/N, I figured it out before I even started," he explained. "You don't need to be embarrassed or ashamed about liking it. It's actually quite endearing."

"IhI'm still embarrassed..."

"You know, there are scientifically proven benefits to tickling. For example it boosts endorphins, strengthens social bonds, i.e. with a new friend slash coworker, and, fun fact..." Spencer trailed off and Y/N looked up at him curiously, only to squirm with squeaky giggles when Spencer lightly spidered his fingers on their ears. "...ear tickling is good for the heart."

He saw the tension leave Y/N's body and he smiled, before he began lightly poking their sides. Y/N squirmed and squeaked even more, feeling more sensitive than before and stimming a lot more openly.

"You've only gotten more ticklish since I started."

"Spehencer! Wahait, whyhyhy?" They giggled, snorting when he gently clawed their knee.

"Did I find a bad spot? That snort was cute."

"Youhouhou're ehehevil!" Y/N whined, a screech leaving their mouth when Spencer drilled his thumbs into their hips.

"Oh this is far from evil. I can show you evil."

He teasingly sang the word again and Y/N's voice grew very high in pitch. "N-NOHOHO!"

"Evil enough for you?"

"Yehehehes! Nohohow stahahap teheheheasing!"

"I'm afraid I can't fulfill that request. Teasing's vital for maximum amounts of laughter."

It only took two more minutes for Y/N to be too flustered to handle any more, and they grabbed Spencer's wrists, tears of mirth in their eyes as they hiccuped and giggled, trying to catch their breath.

"All tickled out?"

Y/N nodded quickly with a small squeak when Spencer gave their side one last poke, and wiped their eyes, unable to stop giggling. "Are you okay?" Spencer asked.

"Mhm."

"Are you sure?"

"Ahahaside from... beheing flustered that you figured out my sehecret in lehess than a mihinute... yehehes."

"IhI'm a profiler. Of course I figured it out. Your secret's safe with me, don't worry. Just, please don't be too mad if I subtly wiggle my fingers at you when no one's looking."

"Spehencer..."

"It'll just be a way of reminding you that you don't need to be afraid of opening up," he explained. "Do you feel better?"

"A little."

"Only a little?"

Y/N squeaked when Spencer wiggled his fingers again. "Aha lohohot!"

"You sure?"

"Yehehes! IhI promise!"

"I'm glad. Now how about calling it a night? I'll walk you out to your car, okay?"

"O-Okay."

The two walked out together after packing their things and stood outside of the building.

"Spencer?"

The taller agent looked over at Y/N, who averted their eyes briefly before taking a composing breath and making eye contact once more. "Thank you... for everything. A-And for not making a big deal out of my stimming. It helped me feel comfortable enough to do it in the first place."

"You're welcome," Spencer said with a smile. "And Y/N, there is nothing wrong with stimming. I hope you don't mind me saying though, that seeing your happiness, and your passion about things you like, reflected in your body language so vividly, is very heartwarming."

"That's really sweet, Spencer... I like that way of looking at it. I-I think... I might left myself stim freely at work more. It really regulates me."

"I know the rest of the team will be understanding of that. You know, Garcia has a lot of fidget and stim toys in her office you can use for stimming too. I can ask her about putting together a box of your own, if you'd like."

"I would love that, Spencer."

"Y/N?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you for opening up to me today. I know it felt scary, but you did it. Remember that, alright? I look forward to getting to know you more."

Y/N's own smile grew and they squeaked when Spencer poked their side. "Spehencer!"

"You didn't think I was only gonna tickle you just that once, did you?"

"Mahaybe... I don't know..."

"Well, how often do those lee moods of your happen?"

"How do you know that... word..." Y/N squeaked out before trailing off, their eyes going wide with realization when they saw the smirk on their teammate's face. "A lot..."

***

Safe to say, the rest of the team was pleasantly surprised when Y/N accepted the invite to join them at the bar after work the following day.

"Good morning, Garcia, good morning Y/N," JJ greeted as she walked past them and Penelope.

"Morning, hon."

"Good morning," Y/N said with a smile.

"Still on for the bar after work, Y/N?"

"I'll be there."

"The madman actually did it," Derek muttered with a grin at the sight of Y/N talking with Penelope about ways they could change up their style.

"Looks like you're buying lunch, Morgan," Emily commented as she walked by, smiling at Y/N, who smiled back and nodded in acknowledgement. "See you tonight, Y/N."

Derek sighed, but chuckled before walking over to talk to Penelope and Y/N.

"How'd you do it, Spence?" JJ questioned.

"Y/N's the one who made the decision to open up," Spencer stated. "They just needed reassurance that doing so wouldn't be a bad thing."

An audible laugh from Y/N caught the two's attention, and when their eyes met Spencer's, they smiled timidly. Spencer returned the smile, before Y/N resumed their conversation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AHHH. I cannot believe I posted this- Also pls forgive me this fic is MONTHS old and I'm not super proud of the writing now but I wanted to post a fic finally.

That "magic spells" bit was inspired by that one mf gif of Spencer Reid wiggling his fingers while saying "almost hypnotic trance". (It flusters me so BADLY)

I'm terrified that I'm actually posting this, so I shall go hide. Reading the t-word is giving me butterflies I gotta go- I hope you enjoyed.

#ler!spencer #tickle fic #ticklish!reader #ler!spencerreid #lee!reader #sfw tickle fic #sfw tickle blog #spencer reid x reader #neurodivergent tickle fic #ND tickle fic #spencer reid tickle fic #fluffy tickles #tickle fluff

[evanescentjasmine]

I’m going to talk about a little pet peeve of mine with regard to portrayal of poc in fic, TMA specifically since that’s what I mostly read and write for. 

I suppose I should first start by saying that, of course, poc are not a monolith, and I’m certain there are other poc who have many different views on this issue. And also this post is in no way meant to demonise, shame, or otherwise discourage people from writing poc in fic if they’re doing something differently. This is just a thing I’ve been noodling on for a while and have had several interesting conversations with friends about, and now that I think I’ve figured out why I have this pet peeve, I figured I’d gather my thoughts into a post.

As a result of the fact we have no canonical racial, ethnic, or religious backgrounds for our main TMA cast, we’ve ended up with many diverse headcanons, and it’s absolutely lovely to see. I’m all for more diversity and I’m always delighted to see people’s headcanons. 

However, what often happens is I’ll be reading a fic and plodding along in a character’s PoV and get mention of their skin colour. And nothing else. I find this, personally, extremely jarring. In a short one-shot it makes sense, because you’re usually touching on one scenario and then dipping out. Likewise if the fic is in a different setting, is cracky, or is told from someone else’s PoV, that’s all fine. But if I’m reading a serious long-fic close in the poc’s head and...nothing? That’s just bizarre to me.

Your heritage, culture, religion, and background, all of those affect how you view the world, and how the world views you in return. How people treat you, how you carry yourself, what you’re conscious of, all of that shifts. And the weird thing is that many writers are aware of this when it comes to characters being ace or trans or neurodivergent—and I’m genuinely pleased by that, don’t get me wrong. Nothing has made my ace self happier than the casual aceness in TMA fics that often resonates so well with my experience. But just as gender, orientation, and neurodivergence change how a character interacts with their world, so do race, ethnicity, and religion. 

As a child, I spent a couple of years in England while my mother was getting her degree. Though I started using Arabic less and less, my mother still spoke to me almost exclusively in Arabic at home. We still ate romy cheese and molokhia and the right kind of rice, though we missed out on other things. She managed to get an Egyptian channel on TV somehow, which means I still grew up with different cultural touchstones and make pop-culture references that I can’t share with my non-Arabic-speaking friends. She also became friends with just about every Egyptian in her university, so for those years I had a bevy of unrelated Uncles and Aunties from cities all over Egypt, banding together to go on outings or celebrate our holidays.

As an adult who sometimes travels abroad solo, and as a fair-skinned Arab who’s fluent in English, usually in a Western country the most I’ll get is puzzled people trying to parse my accent and convinced someone in my family came from somewhere. When they hear my name, though, that shifts. I get things like surprise, passive-aggressive digs at my home region, weird questions, insistence I don’t look Egyptian (which, what does that even mean?) or the ever-popular, ever-irritating: Oh, your English is so good!

At airports, with my Egyptian passport, it’s less benign. I am very commonly taken aside for extra security, all of which I expect and am prepared for, and which always confuses foreign friends who insisted beforehand that surely they wouldn’t pull me aside. Unspoken is the fact I, y’know, don’t look like what they imagine a terrorist would. But I’m Arab and that’s how it goes, despite my, er, more “Western” leaning presentation. 

This would be an entirely different story if I were hijabi, or had darker skin, or a more pronounced accent. I am aware I’m absolutely awash with privilege. Likewise, it would be different if I had a non-Arab name and passport. 

So it’s slightly baffling to me as to why a Jon who is Pakistani or Indian or Arab and/or Black British would go through life the exact same way a white British character would. 

Now, I understand that race and ethnicity can be very fraught, and that many writers don’t want to step on toes or get things wrong or feel it isn’t their place to explore these things, and certainly I don’t think it’s a person’s place to explore The Struggles of X Background unless they also share said background. I’m not saying a fic should portray racism and microaggressions either (and if they do, please take care and tag them appropriately), but that past experiences of them would affect a character. A fic doesn’t have to be about the Arab Experience With Racism (™) to mention that, say, an Arab Jon headed to the airport in S3 for his world tour would have been very conscious to be as put together as he could, given the circumstances, and have all his things in order. 

And there’s so much more to us besides. What stories did your character grow up with? What language was spoken at home? Do they also speak it? If not, how do they feel about that? What are their comfort foods? Their family traditions? The things they do without thinking? The obscure pop-culture opinions they can’t even begin to explain? (Ask me about the crossover between Egyptian political comedy and cosmic horror sometime…)

I’m not saying you’ll always get it right. Hell, I’m not saying I always get it right either. I’m sure someone can read one of my fics and be like, “nope, this isn’t true to me!” And that’s okay. The important thing, for me, is trying.

Because here’s the thing. 

I want you to imagine reading a fic where I, a born and raised Egyptian, wrote white characters in, say, a suburb in the US as though they shared my personal experiences. It’s a multi-generational household, people of the same gender greet with a kiss on each cheek, lunch is the main meal, adults only move out when they get married, every older person they meet is Auntie or Uncle, every bathroom has a bidet, there’s a backdrop of Muslim assumptions and views of morality, and the characters discuss their Eid plans because, well, everyone celebrates Eid, obviously.

Weird, right? 

So why is this normal the other way around? 

Have you ever stopped to wonder why white (and often, especially American) experiences are considered the default? The universal inoffensive base on which the rest is built? 

Yes, I understand that writers are trying to be inoffensive and respectful of other backgrounds. But actually, I find the usual method of having the only difference be their skin colour or features pretty reductive. We’re more than just a paint job or a sprinkle of flavour to add on top of the default. Many of us have fundamentally different life experiences and ignoring this contributes to that assumption of your experience being universal. 

Yes, fic is supposed to be for fun and maybe you don’t want to have to think about all this, and I get that completely. I have all the respect in the world for writers who tag their TMA fics as an American AU, or who don’t mention anyone’s races. I get it. But when you have characters without a canonical race and you give them one, you’re making a decision, and I want you to think about it. 

Yes, this is a lot of research, but the internet is full of people talking about themselves and their experiences. Read their articles, read their blogs, read their twitter threads, watch their videos, see what they have to say and use it as a jumping-off point. I’m really fond of the Writing With Color blog, so if you’re not sure where to start I’d recommend giving them a look. 

Because writers outside of the Anglosphere already do this research in order to write in most fandoms. Writers of colour already put themselves in your shoes to write white characters. And frankly, given the amount of care that many white writers put into researching Britishisms, I don’t see why this can’t extend to other cultural differences as well.

#the magnus archives #tma #poc in fanfic #representation #tw racism #long post