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beep-beep-robin · 10 months

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quinni gallagher-jones + common autism traits

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

#vanessas gifs #original post #quinni gallagher-jones #quinni gallagher jones #quinni heartbreak high #autism #autistic #asd #actually autistic #autism traits #heartbreak high #heartbreak high 2022 #heartbreak high gifs #quinni gallagher jones gifs #tw: sensory overload #tw: meltdown

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babyjakes · 8 months

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erm 🌝 it’s time to stop and regulate.

#meltdown prevention!#i guess!#eun’s shitposts #tw: meltdown

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starlight-tav · 7 months

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Genuinely frightening how fast my thoughts go from neutral to life-endingly bad.

#tw: suicidality #tw: depression #tw: suicidal ideation #tw: cptsd #tw: meltdown

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sp0o0kylights · 11 months

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Steve and Gareth as cousins warm up, part two!

First part is HERE.

Next part is HERE.

Reminder: Someone on Twitter proposed Steve and Gareth as cousins whose family had a major falling out, and then someone else brought it up recently and long story short no idea who to credit the idea too bc you can’t search for SHIT on Twitter but it's theirs not mine.

Warnings: Steve and Robin Get (canon-S3) Drugged.

"I'm just saying the other theater is cheaper." Eddie said around the straw jammed in his mouth.

He carried the largest bucket of popcorn Starcourt’s movie theater offered, alongside the two boxes of candy he'd also demanded Gareth buy him.

"Easier to sneak into, you mean." Gareth corrected, with his significantly smaller bag of popcorn. His, he planned to share with Jeff, Grant having snuck in his own food.

Gareth himself would have snuck in the cheaper (and far larger) snacks, but Eddie had thrown a fit about going to the mall to see a new movie instead of Hawkin’s far older theater.

Of course, the older theater also had several disadvantages, key of which was terrible seating, and so, Gareth had bribed him with whatever treats he wanted.

His wallet took a hit but fuck it, at least they got to actually see the screen.

Not that they even made it into the fucking theater, because someone chose that moment to crash into Eddie.

Popcorn kernels and soda flew everywhere, with Eddie only avoiding it landing on him and Gareth both by years of dealing with this exact bullshit in school. Of course, the mall wasn’t school, and neither of them had their guard up.

"What the hell man--" Eddie spat, immediately on the defense, as they both turned to see what jackass wanted to cause problems this time.

Except Gareth had recognized the person who bumped him.

"Steve?" Gareth asked, causing his cousin to totter around and face him. He was in his Scoops Ahoy uniform, which remained to be absolutely ridiculous, but that hadn't been what had drawn Gareth's attention.

No, that would be the absolute wrecked face staring at him with a doped up grin.

All thoughts of the movie immediately faded away.

"What happened to your face!?" Gareth demanded, immediately stepping up into his cousin's space, eyes darting over the damage.

Recent black eye, split lip, blood splatter all down one side of his neck, nevermind his clothes…

"Robs!" Steve called over his shoulder instead of answering, body moving as if he was walking on a wildly rocking boat and not solid ground. "Come 'ere!"

He beamed, which had the horrific effect of resplitting his lips. "Meet Gareth, my baby cousin!"

"I am two years younger than you." Gareth argued on automatic. He didn’t look to see how Eddie took this little piece of info--he’d figure out what he’d say later, when Steve wasn’t covered in blood.

It did not stop Robin from reaching out to pinch his cheeks.

She too, Gareth realized, was clearly high on something, both of them giggling and weaving on their feet.

At least Robin didn’t appear to be hurt--or at least, not hurt as badly as Steve.

"What the hell did you two take?" Gareth demanded, looking between them as he quickly put his popcorn back off to the side.

"We didn't take anything, dad." Steve said bossily, rolling his eyes. He spoke in a voice so unlike himself that Gareth knew his own face was doing something crazy.

Not that he could stop it because what the hell.

"What my patriotic friend here means is that we don't know." Robin added, smacking a hand onto Steve’s shoulder.

(The entire sentence was slurred and sounded like she'd shoved candy in her mouth before she started talking.)

"You don't know?!” Gareth asked, taking in the way Steve flinched when Robin touched him. Added a mental note to check his cousin's shoulder too. “How do you not know?"

Gareth wasn't panicking, he wasn't, except he absolutely fucking was. Steve's dad was going to kill him, disown him, and throw the body out of his house--in that exact order.

Gareth’s parents wouldn’t take him in, not unless his mom felt she could use it to one up her sister in some way which meant that Gareth was going to have to sneak Steve in and out of the house like he was some--some puppy Gareth was trying to keep and--

"Did someone give you two something?" Eddie asked, interrupting Gareth’s spiraling.

"Give is a very strong word." Steve said with a snicker.

Robin nodded so much she looked like a bobble head. She leaned in, nearly falling into Gareth in the process. “In fact it’s not the word I’d use at all! I’d use…” She trailed off, screwing her eyes up in thought.

“Made us?” Steve suggested as Gareth finally gave in to his instincts and reached out to steady his cousin. “Forced us?”

“Socked it to us!” Robin added with a weird amount of glee, and the two of them once again collapsed into giggles.

Literally, forcing Gareth to try and steady them both.

Which meant Eddie was right--they’d been drugged. It made perfect sense-- Steve wasn’t the kind to experiment with drugs beyond weed. Had in fact, given a very long lecture about how he’d make Gareth go on runs with him if he ever found out Eddie had given him anything stronger than weed.

There was no way he’d change now, and especially not around a jobsite. Particularly one as busy as the mall.

"You can't tell anybody." Robin continued, eyes so wide they were more white than pupils. "But we got truth serumed!"

As if that made any fucking sense.

Gareth turned a half frantic, half disbelieving look to Eddie--whose own face scared him almost as badly as Steve's did.

He was hiding it, and doing a good job of doing so, but Eddie was the one person Gareth knew better than Steve.

Right now? Eddie Munson was furious.

Not mad, or upset, or even as pissed as he had been the time Tommy Hagan had thrown his drug box in the river.

He was enraged.

"Hey." He said, and the only thing more shocking than realizing Eddie was this mad was hearing him talk in a calming, almost playful voice. "Sounds like you two sailors had a pretty rough time. Why don't we go to the bathroom and get you both cleaned up? I bet you'll feel a little better."

It was clearly the right move, because both of them looked downright delighted.

"He thinks we're sailors!" Steve said, cupping a hand around his mouth and leaning to talk in Robin’s ear as if he was whispering. (He wasn’t.)

Robin’s grin grew impossibly wider, before Eddie stepped forward to help Gareth half guide half herd the two into the nearest bathroom.

"I know you." Robin said, squinting dramatically as Eddie opened the door with his regular flair, bellowing for anyone in the place to get out.

It was Steve's turn to nod enthusiastically. "That's Eddie, Robbie." He said.

"I'm honored King Steve knows such a humble peasant's name." Eddie bowed as Gareth finally got both Steve and Robin into the bathroom, trying to get them to sit on the floor before they fell on their asses.

Which just made a hurt expression appear on Steve's face. "’Course I do. You have really pretty hair."

It had the effect of making Eddie look like he’d been punched and Gareth had to quickly turn his bark of laughter into a cough.

"I bet it's soft.” Steve continued, as he pressed his back against the tiled wall and slowly slid down to the floor. “Gare, is it soft?"

"It's very soft." Gareth agreed, trying to wet a paper towel with shaking hands. Finally he gave up entirely, ripping the plaid sweater he had tied around his waist and shoving one of the sleeves into the sink.

“Oh my god.” Robin said abruptly, sitting up from her own slouched spot on the floor as if she’d suddenly been stricken sober. “It’s him! He’s your type!”

“What’s my type?” Steve turned to her, as Eddie leaned his back against the door to the bathroom, blocking anyone else from entering.

“It’s like--like Nancy! But boy Nancy.” Robin seemed to think this made a ton of sense, and given Steve’s immediate groan maybe it did to him, but Gareth was too freaked out to even begin to process what the hell they were on about.

Probably nothing, given they’d been drugged.

Eddie seemed to pick up on his general anxiety and poor attempts at shoving down his own freakout, because he gently called out Gareth’s name.

“I think it’s wet enough.” He added with a raised eyebrow. His eyes drifted purposefully to the sink and with a curse, Gareth snapped shut the water off.

His hands were still shaking.

“Give it to me.” Eddie said gently, moving to take the shirt from Gareth’s hands. “Here, swap me Gare, and guard the door.”

Gareth did, as Eddie knelt down to take Steve’s chin in one hand, and carefully began dapping his wounded face with the wet sleeve.

“May I ask what battles you two sailors have been involved in?” He said, continuing to sound like playful, fun Eddie and not like he was about to murder half the town (which, Gareth could tell by body language alone, is what Eddie actually felt like) “Did you happen to catch a glimpse of the villains who did this?"

“Robin melted into Steve, rubbing her face in his shoulder. “You wouldn’t believe us.”

Eddie smiled his most charming smile, a full blown rouge grin he played up as he continued to wipe and dab at Steve’s wounds. “You’d be surprised at what I believe in, my fair lady.”

Steve tried to talk, but ended up hissing as he ran into Eddie’s fingers.

“Russians.” He managed to get out, when Eddie quickly took the sleeve away so he could talk. “We got kidnapped by fucking Russians. Also we kinda saw some shit and they’re after us. Possibly you now if they saw you with us.”

There was the briefest of pause as Steve and Robin stared at Eddie, as Eddie stared back.

Then Steve and Robin as one started howling with laughter, so hard that Robin’s head ended up in Steve’s lap with Steve’s own head resting on hers.

Eddie turned to give Gareth a pinched look. “Russians.” He said, still calm despite it all. “Right.”

Which had to be the fucking drugs speaking.

Gareth just took a deep breath as Eddie managed to gently prod Steve back into putting his chin in his hand, shaking his head ever so slightly.

He didn’t know who he was going to actually have to murder, but at least Eddie looked to be on board with acting as his backup.

#tw drugs #tw canon bodily injury #Steve Harrington #Robin Buckley #eddie munson #Gareth Emerson #Gareth and Steve as cousins #secret cousins #whose family had a falling out #Eddie is fuckin PISSED #he may be a drug dealer but he is a drug dealer with MORALS #how dare someone drug people in his town!#mind hes thinking Steve somehow took a hit for Robin and then they still got Robin anyways but ya know #Gareth is having a full bore anxiety meltdown #He just wants his older cousin to be okay : ( \

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clownrecess · 1 year

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I've seen a lot of level one autistics say things like "Have an urge to run? Hell yeah! Elope, bitch! Freedom!". This frustrates me, so I want to talk about elopement, and what it actually is and feels like for me.

I am someone who elopes when in severe distress. It isnt that I want freedom, or even that I want to leave. Its that my body takes control of me, and I involuntarily run anywhere I can to get out. I've run out of my house before, I've run into the middle of the street, etc. It isnt fun. It isnt freeing. It's scary, it's dangerous, and it feels like I am being controlled by my own body because I have no say in it. It just happens, and suddenly I am sprinting out my front door.

I've also seen level one autistics be upset with parents for having those "child leashes" on their autistic kids, saying how they "arent dogs". I think more people need to understand that these are SAFETY TOOLS and are often times NECESSARY for people who elope frequently. Stop shaming parents for having these leash backpacks.

#tw elopement #elopement tw #tw meltdown #meltdown tw #actually autistic #neurodivergent #aac user #nonspeaking #nonspeaking autistic #autism #aac device #aac users #disabled #level 2 autism #the tism #high support needs autistic #mid high support needs #high support needs disabled #high support needs

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a-sip-of-milo · 6 months

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You didn't deserve to be filmed during your most vulnerable moments. You didn't deserve to have them put on the internet for everybody to see, even if it was "just for friends and family". It's not funny and you're not overreacting for feeling humiliated, upset or uncomfortable because of it.

That goes for the people who initially gave consent as a child. It doesn't matter. Shouldn't have happened regardless, and I hope you can find peace.

Believers in narcissistic/borderline/anti-social/histrionic abuse DNI

#parental abuse #tw abuse #neurodivergent #actually neurodivergent #autistic meltdown #npd safe #cluster b safe #bpd safe #aspd safe #hpd safe #emotional abuse #childhood ptsd #childhood abuse

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sweetpeauserboxes · 10 months

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[id: a light pink userbox with a pastel pink border and pastel pink text that reads “this user is having a silent meltdown; please and thank you.” on the left is an image of a pink heart. /end id]

#soft aesthetic #soft userbox #soft userboxes #soft #softcore #pastel userbox #userboxes #userbox #pastel userboxes #pastelcore #pastel aesthetic #pastel #meltdown #negative #negative cw #negative tw

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gourmet-trash · 1 year

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Okay so hear me out but Rose working on some creative writing assignment or short story that involves a character getting stabbed or cut or whatever. And Corinthian proofreading like, "The lead up is good, but I'm telling you, Rosebud, this just isn't what it's like." "I can't write it the way you described it!" "Well why not? I'm the authority here, aren't I?" Rose throws her hands up. "Because you like stabbing things, and the protagonist doesn't like getting stabbed."

Corinthian clicks all three of his tongues and flips to the next page. "That doesn't excuse a poor description of handling the knife."

"I'm sorry, all right? I just understand better when I'm seeing stuff rather than just hearing about it," Rose says, sighing. She shouldn't have waited so long to start this project. And it's not like her creative writing professor is going to spend this much time fussing over the scene, but now that she's aware it's wrong, it's going to eat at her until she gets a pass from the Corinthian.

Corinthian who, after a moment, lifts his head from the pages he's reviewing. And even with his sunglasses on, Rose has learned to recognize that particular look on his face. This can't be good.

"You know," he says, drawing his words out the way he usually does when he's leading into the kind of suggestion he knows doesn't align with "human moral values" as he's put it on more than one occassion. "If you need a visual and a more first hand account of what getting stabbed feels like..."

"No," Rose says immediately.

"Why not? It's a perfect solution!" Corinthian insists.

"I'm not gonna watch you kill somebody!" Rose says. "...Again."

There's a soft click-click of unseen teeth that Rose associates with Corinthian's version of "rolling your eyes." "I'm not suggesting we kill somebody," he says, "Couldn't if I tried anyway!"

"No," Rose repeats when she realizes what, exactly the Corinthian is suggesting.

"Oh, come on," Corinthian says, waving the heavily marked pages of her story between them. "We could at least ask, right? And he could definitely give you some pointers on writing about being stabbed."

"....Well...that part's probably true," Rose admits slowly. Being able to ask specific questions would also be more useful than a bunch of questionable Google searches.

"So....?" She sighs and gets up from her desk, rolling her eyes at the wide grin Corinthian flashes for it. "Just to ask if he can give me some advice! That's it," she says, pulling in the same firm voice she uses to tell Jed that they absolutely are not having chicken fingers for dinner again.

"You want to stab me for a creative writing assignment?" Professor Gadling repeats slowly.

"No!" Rose says at the same time Corinthian says, "Yeah, that sums it up."

Rose shifts on Professor Gadling's couch so she can kick Corinthian's ankle beside her, feeling vindicated by the echoing hiss of air between teeth. "Well that was uncalled for," he grouses, pointedly proping that ankle up on his knee away from her. Like she can't reach the other one if she wants.

They spend a few moments glowering at each other - Rose trying to decide if she wants to kick him again and Corinthian trying to predict said kick so he can avoid it. They're both interrupted by Professor Gadling setting mugs in front of them and lowering himself into an arm chair.

"Thank you, Professor," Rose insists, reaching out to take hers. "What Corinthian meant to say is that I'm working on a story for class and he doesn't think my action scenes are...authentic enough. I was wondering if you might be willing to proofread a bit? Or give me some advice to make it sound more realistic?"

"On account of you having been stabbed so many of times," Corinthian helpfully adds over the top of his mug. Rose doesn't know a lot about British tea, but she knows there's an absurd amount of milk (and probably sugar) in his judging by the color.

Professor Gadling, thank god, looks more amused than anything else. Rose suspects he's used to a lot of this on account of whatever is going on between him and Corinthian and Uncle Morpheus, but she keeps that particular thought to herself. That's a topic better left for gossping with Matthew.

"That is, unfortunately, true," Professor Gadling agrees. "I'm happy to answer any questions you have."

"Now, Rose, didn't you tell me earlier that you have a hard time understanding something that's just said out loud to you, though?" Corinthian drawls.

"Maybe it's just the way you describe things that's hard," she argues, rolling her eyes again when he lays his fingertips against his chest like a stricken southern belle.

Professor Gadling chuckles into his own tea while he watches them bicker, and after a moment he shrugs and rocks back onto his feet. "All right, come on. We're not doing this so close to the rug and the furniture."

"What?" Rose says, but Professor Gadling is already carrying his tea towards the kitchen, and Corinthian wastes no time abandoning his own mug on the coffee table to follow. Rose curses softly and moves Corinthian's mug onto a coaster before hurrying after them.

"Professor, you really don't have to do this," she insists.

But by then, Professor Gadling has already shrugged out of his cardigan and is considering the shirt underneath. "Probably more helpful to see the blood spread on the fabric, right?"

"Yeah, that would fit the scene better," Corinthian agrees, flipping a knife over his fingers and looking her way. "Right, Rosebud?"

When she doesn't immediately answer, Professor Gadling looks over, and something in her expression must read as more than concerned for his safety, because he walks over and puts a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, it's okay. If it'll help what you're writing, I really don't mind, Rose. And frankly, if I don't let him stab something now, he's probably going to find something to stab," he jokes with a pointed glance at Corinthian.

Corinthian does not correct him, so he's probably right about that.

Even so, Professor Gadling's expression is soft when he turns back to her." But if it's not something you're going to be comfortable seeing, we also don't have to do this. We can go back to the couch and you can ask questions. I'll try to describe things better than Cor does."

She makes a small, amused sound, but she still feels her brows knitting in together. Was she comfortable seeing this? She hadn't even stopped to consider that, so set as she'd been that this wouldn't be a possibility in the first place. And now that it was, she didn't know if she wanted it to be.

Corinthian leans his hip against the counter beside them and tilts his head. "You like horror movies, Rose?"

She blinks, turning from Professor Gadling's concerned expression to Corinthian's considerably more mild one. "Um...yeah, I do."

"Cause in a horror movie, even if people are getting hurt, you know they're actually okay, right?" he reasons. "The actors walk away right as rain after the credits start rolling."

She frowns slightly but nods.

"Hob does that too. You know he's actually okay and he'll walk away right as rain after all this. Not that different from watching a real good horror movie."

Professor Gadling makes a soft, amused sound, and when Rose glances back at him, he has a wry, affectionate look on his face. "That's...not a bad way of putting it," he agrees. "Even though none of those actors are actually getting stabbed."

"Details," Corinthian scoffs.

"And you're sure you're okay with this Professor?" Rose asks, relaxing a bit when he nods.

"I wouldn't have said yes otherwise. And stab wounds don't take that long to heal. I can even show you when it's healed up if that'll help."

Rose glances between them, Professor Gadling waiting patiently for her to decide what she'd like to do and Corinthian looking like he might jump in and start stabbing at a moment's notice regardless.

Something about the scenario feels a little too familiar. Not for her, of course. But between the two of them. She's starting to think this isn't the first time Professor Gadling has let himself get stabbed, and she's starting to think she doesn't want to look too closely into that.

"....Uncle Morpheus isn't going to like this," she points out, watching the two of them exchange a quiet, but communicative glance.

"Well your Uncle Morpheus doesn't have to know if we hurry up," Corinthian insists, lifting a wrist to check his watch. "We still got some time before he gets back with Jed."

Professor Gadling snorts softly. "We'll worry about Morpheus," he says. "So?"

"....Okay. Okay, yeah, let me just grab my notebook!"

"Attagirl!" Corinthian crows, shaking his knife a bit like one might a trophy they've won. And as soon as she's back, he waves her over to show her the grip he has on the handle so she can jot down notes.

And that's how Rose spends the afternoon in Professor Gadling's kitchen being shown precise knife handling techniques, blood spatter behavior, and getting a first hand account of what being stabbed feels like in real time. All of it turn out to be tremendously helpful in her story edits - she gets Corinthian and Professor Gadling's approval before turning it in. (The former insists she should consider writing more action like this in the future and he's, of course, happy to help with additional research.)

She gets an A. [ next → ]

#it's a win-win-win for everybody your honor!#either dream has no idea hob and corinthian do this and has a little meltdown over it #or he does but he finds out they were doing it IN FRONT OF HIS NIECE and he has a little meltdown over it #i just think corinthian would always be looking for an excuse to stab #and hob would probably fucking let him #it's that or he's stabbing other people right?#(he's definitely still stabbing over people just maybe with a more discerning hand)#rose walker #hob gadling #the corinthian #the sandman #hobrinthian #hobrintheus #fic #tw: stabbing #tw: knife

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nilla-divergent · 10 days

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parents didn't know??

Its so frustrating to think about how my parents "never noticed" I'm autistic. How? How could you not have noticed? I struggled in every aspect of my life. I had bad meltdowns. I had hardly any friends. I pulled my hair and eyelashes out because of stress. I screamed and cried for help when they locked me in dark rooms until I couldn't cry any longer. I couldn't sleep from the buzzing of the lamp on my nightstand, and it made me cry too. I was put under so much stress, shame, and emotional neglect that I started regressing and struggled with bADLs that no normal child would struggle with. Especially hygiene.

Can somebody explain how on earth they couldn't have known?

#tw trauma #actually autistic #autism #level 2 autism #mid support needs #asd #medium support needs #autistic #autism spectrum disorder #tw screaming #Meltdown #neurodivergent #neglect

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clownrecess · 10 months

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(TW FOR ABLEISM, MELTDOWNS, ETC.)

Supporting disabled people is more than just supporting us when you think its cute, easy, or beneficial for you.

If your support ends when you see an adult in public with a diaper bulge, you aren't supporting disabled people.

If your support ends when you see someone drooling, you aren't supporting disabled people.

If your support ends when someone has a violent meltdown in public, you aren't supporting disabled people.

If your support ends when someone needs help being fed, you aren't supporting disabled people.

Etc. Etc. Etc.

I know that you dont think its cute or aesthetically pleasing to try and calm me down and be understanding of me when I throw my communication device across the room and slam my head into the ground because someone laughed too loudly, I know that you think its embarrassing. I know you dont think it's all "uwu cute tism" when I can't shower for a week straight and spend the whole day crying, yelling, and biting myself, but if that makes you angry at me, you arent supporting disabled people.

What is your limit to supporting disabled people? What is your limit to being okay with the fact that I am NOT like your nondisabled friends?

Where does the support end and the disgust start? How long until we are "too disabled" for you?

/not at anyone specific

#actually autistic #neurodivergent #autism #aac user #nonspeaking autistic #nonspeaking #aac device #disabled #aac users #tw meltdown #incontinence #incontinent #high support needs #high support needs autistic #multiply disabled #tw ableism

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