absolutely wild learning about my austistic leanings later in life because like
my parents just thought i was “eccentric” and found me rather entertaining, weirdness and all (plus their own probably undiagnosed AuDHD making their benchmark for normal skewed anyway) and my mon specifically was always so “mever change for anyone just be you” from a very young age so i just…
never experienced the concept of masking i guess?
Not as masking, I mean.
i would read accounts from autistic people talking about their experiences and struggles and pressure to conform and masking and the mental effects thereof and i would feel empathy because i “went through similar issues” but i th
i thought i was just being bullied for being Weird. just in general. like kids do. that this was a case of “well this sounds a lot like what i go through, but im not actually autistic so it probably isnt my place to join the conversation.”
it just never clicked that, “um. hi. these are the exact same behaviors you do. and there were moments in your life that almost led you to masking. because thats what it would’ve been. masking. but your dumb ass thought it wouldve just been ‘changing how you act and who you are in order to be bullied less’ which okay TECHNICALLY yes that is an accurate if watered down description of masking too, but.
Then you refused to on principle, because bullying is bad and fuck you and got angry about it to the point of overcompensating and INCREASING your Behaviors (tm) until you completely skipped over one of the key experiences that wouldve helped you identify with other people on the spectrum later in life.”
I just rolled through life like a steamroller of righteous, spiteful confidence that my preferences and actions were nobody’s business but my own and vice versa unless they clearly and directly affected others - so much so that I never actually set any kind of benchmark pattern for the way (NT) people around me act.
So I never had a benchmark for masking.
like im going back through all my memories of friendships that soured because i took everything at face value instead of trying to read deeper into cues. because I would always just say what i wanted people to know, straight up. like if i wanted attention i would ask for it if i wanted them to know i was hurt i would tell them. That made so much sense to me i assumed that was the norm. Because clearly. Thats logical. and obvious. So certainly other people are doing the same.
I got blinsided a LOT by the games my school friends and later some early adult friends played, yeah, but AGAIN (see: steamroller of self confidence) I simply assumed that was THEIR problem, not mine, and just… grieved the friendship and hoped for their sake they’d eventually sort their shit out 🤣
I literally thought they were the ones having difficulty with social contracts and cues and relationships.
Then over the past couple years the more I see accounts from other people in the AuDHD spectrum, like “yeah neurotypicals actually [thing i had been assuming was just an asshole trait for years without questioning it], heres what they really mean and a good script for responding” and “its funny how i [exact behavior i did for years] and no one realized i was austistic till later” im like… 🙃
And the last kicker was the post about food touching with the tag response “sometimes masking your autistic traits ends up more autistic than the unmasked trait” and my gut reactions were, in order:
…why would you bother to mask that, why is the way you eat anyone elses business?
i mean i guess it would ease up the pressure a bit, i got bullied for that too, i can see how maybe you wouldnt want to have to put… up with…
…
oHHHH SHIT IS THAT WHAT IT WOULDVE BEEN. IF I HADNT BEEN SO ANGRY ABOUT BEING ASKED TO CHANGE. IT WOULDVE BEEN MASKING. IF I’D KNOWN WHAT THAT WAS. THIS WHOLE TIME.
its just… its just been a series of months of me shaking my head and realizing my entire life has been that meme like “Am I having difficulties connecting socially??? No, it is everyone else who is wrong.”
🤣 girl help
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every art critic, teacher or tutorial maker who tells you that your character designs must be conventionally attractive or appealing is a big fat liar
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Eldritch Echo
So. I haven't seen the Bad Batch and don't really intend to, but I have read some fics (please do not take that as me saying that's the same as understanding the story) and between that and my thoughts of eldritch stuff in Star Wars and a cool art piece I came across that I think was referencing something I don't have the context for, I started wondering what it'd look like if of the Bad Batch, Echo was the only eldritch/cryptid/vampire/otherwise not human one. NOT because of the Techno Union, but because of something that happened sooner OR he'd always been like that. And I might put a bit of that in my vampire clones thing but I was thinking eldritch and I ended up writing a thing. So. Enjoy:
***********
Crosshair’s willing to admit he doesn’t dislike Echo. He respects the guy’s resilience and his willingness to go with the flow, which is necessary for someone working with their team, even as he rolls his eyes at Echo’s tendency to twitch at the state of their ship and his reluctance to drop the “sir” when talking to Hunter. More than that Echo has zero qualms about sassing him if Crosshair picks a fight and it’s a lot of fun to rile him up.
That said. Echo is also really freaking weird.
Crosshair is very observant, between his eyesight, his role on the team, and his training he had to be and either something’s very off about Echo or he’s started hallucinating because he keeps seeing things that don’t make sense. Not for a reg and not for a cyborg.
He explains this the Hunter once, trying to see if he’s noticed anything, and Hunter frowns. “Can you give me an example?”
“His eyes for one.”
Hunter blinked. “What?”
“We all know what most trooper’s eyes look like. And we’ve seen some variations. But they don’t change color. I’ve seen his eyes go golden or violet, and it wasn’t the lighting.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes I’m sure what do you take me for?” Crosshair snapped. “Look. Next time we’re on a sunny planet. Take a look at his shadow. It doesn’t match him at all. I’ve seen it prowling around him like a tooka without him or a light source moving. It doesn’t look like him either. And remember that time we were sparring and he panicked and bit me? I asked Tech, the Techno Union didn’t do anything to his teeth, but I know what bitemarks look like and that was not it.”
Hunter sighed. “I’ll pay attention but-” He paused. “Huh.”
“What?”
“It might not be anything.” He replies and only knowing that he’s getting to the point keeps Crosshair from interrupting. “But remember how I told you guys that people smell like animals? They’re distinct from each other, and you know I can’t describe it cause I tried to describe you guys, but it’s not like they smell like flowers or old books or whatever people like to think they’d smell like unless they’re wearing a scent. Echo, he doesn’t smell like a trooper. I just never thought about it for some reason.”
“And what does he smell like?”
Hunter frowned as he tried to find the words. “Well. He does smell a bit like a trooper and a bit metallic. But he also smells like, what’s was the spice in that cake you liked so much? The one we found on that mission with the weird vultures?”
Crosshair hummed. That had been a really freaking good cake. “The lady said it was a cardamon cream cake. So he smells like cardamon?”
“Cardamon and lilies and wet dirt is the best way I can describe it and I know it’s not his soap cause he uses the same stuff as the rest of us. So yeah. I guess I’ll pay attention.”
Two days later Crosshair gets confirmation that something’s up in a way he did not expect.
Because walking around in the dark in the middle of the night is his job so it’s already odd to find Echo leaning against the cabinet in their ship’s tiny kitchen in the pitch dark. “You’re going to trip reg.” Crosshair says and leans over to get the lights when Echo looks up.
And twelve pairs of golden violet eyes meet Crosshair’s.
He staggers back, trips over something, falls. “Crosshair!” Echo grabs his hand, pulling him up, then scrambles for the lights as if he forgot they might be necessary and Crosshair yelps as the light hits his eyes.
He blames that and the shock for blurting out; “What the hell are you Echo?”
Echo blinks, looking hurt. “I’m a trooper. Like you all.”
“Troopers don’t have twenty-four freaking eyes.” Crosshair hissed. They aren’t there now, he’s got 2 brown eyes in the exact same shade of brown nearly every trooper has, but Crosshair knows what he saw. He knows what he’s been seeing.
Echo tilts his head. And he grins. It’s a smile Crosshair’s seen before, whenever Echo’s about to respond to his taunts with something cutting and clever, part “take that” and part inviting him to share the joke. There’s nothing off about that smile save for that it’s mirrored in Echo’s shadow, splayed against the cabinets behind him too dark for their lights.
“The Bad Batch.” Echo muses, like there’s a joke Crosshair hasn’t caught yet, and he’s never had a reason to call Echo dangerous even when he didn’t trust him, but he’s starting to feel cornered even though Echo hasn’t moved. “You think you’re the only strange ones. ‘Don’t worry Rex, we know how to handle a reg.’ Never mind that Torrent was always a little crazy, or it used to be. Never mind that I was an ARC and a damn good one, and we’re all more than competent. And I appreciate what you all did, in welcoming me into the squad, I appreciate it more than I can say, and I do really like you guys, but you are so freaking cocky. So certain you can handle anything. And to be fair you’re damn good at your job, but sometimes it’s annoying. So.” He grins that taunting grin again. “You want to know what the reg’s deal is? Figure it out.”
He leaves. His grinning shadow lingers a moment before following. Crosshair stares.
And then decides that a glass of water isn’t gonna cut it and goes for the stash of moonshine.
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