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autisticlancemcclain · 1 year

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It’s the whispering that gets her. Loud conversations and jokes are par for the course — that’s not interesting. That’s whatever. That’s something she’ll probably have to hear about, recounted tomorrow morning at breakfast.

But whispering? Now that has Pidge intrigued.

She creeps towards Lance’s door, which is just barely cracked open, and crouches low to avoid being seen. She peers through the crack, squinting to see through the low light — Lance hates big lights and only ever has crystals glowing in his room.

Knelt on Lance’s floor are the Legs of Voltron themselves. Their heads are bent close, eyes glued to Lance’s blue daisy case covered-phone, whispering to each other. Pidge has to strain her ears to hear them.

“—you think it means? It’s just casual, right? Totally casual.”

“I mean, our texting is pretty casual, and he’s never sent me a winking emoji. I’m surprised he even knows what a winking emoji is.”

Lance frowns deeply. “Yeah, it’s weird! The colon is right next to the semicolon on a keyboard, though. It could just be an accident.”

“But it’s kind of a flirty message,” Hunk points out. “Look. ‘You sure as shit kept me on my toes today, Sharpshooter.’ Winky face. That’s flirty, Lance. I think Keith is actually flirting with you!”

Holy motherforking shirtballs!

Keith? Flirting with Lance?

Pidge can’t help her gasp. It’s literally involuntary.

She hits the floor the second the sound leaves her mouth. She dives to the side of the door, scrambling to her feet and running down the hallway as quickly as she can.

Only the rush makes her unbalanced, and she’s never been particularly agile, so she trips over her own feet and sprawls onto the floor face-first.

“Pidge?”

“Just — let me die,” she says, face burning. She refuses to lift her head from the ground.

To be caught spying, dear God. On Hunk and Lance’s sleepover. Is there any greater humiliation?

“You can join us, you know,” Hunk says, voice amused. “You don’t need to spy, you little weirdo.”

Pidge weighs her options quickly. She can get up, brush herself off, lie about being uninterested, and make the walk of shame back to her room and stare, bored, at her ceiling until she falls asleep.

She bites her lip.

Or, she can join these two dorks. She’ll never admit it under pain of death, but she’s always kind of wanted to be invited to a sleepover. She never got along well with kids her age growing up — at least, not well enough to be invited to things — and the jealousy she felt when other girls would bring their overnight bags to school and head home with a friend was positively burning.

She turns to face her teammates, deliberately pretending to be way less interested than she is, picking at her nails and shrugging. “I mean, I have some really important things to do, but I guess if you guys want to hang out with me so bad…”

Neither of them are convinced for even a second. Hunk has his left eyebrow raised, and Lance is smirking. But nevertheless, they don’t tease her about it any further, ushering her in and tossing pyjamas at her head.

“They’ll be a bit big, but you’ll manage,” Lance says. He tilts his head at his ensuite. “Bring me the sparkly pink bottle next to the sink on your way out, please.”

Quickly turning away so Lance can’t see her smile, Pidge does. She ducks into the washroom, locking the door behind her, and sets the soft PJs on the bathroom counter. She looks at herself carefully in the mirror, taking in the small smile she can’t force down, the bags under her eyes and the excitement in her irises.

A sleepover. An actual sleepover, with real people who aren’t her brother. With friends, to do stupid shit like gossip and tease and knowing Lance, do some sort of inane skincare.

Giddy, she hurriedly changes into the clothes Lance gave her, hefting up the way-too-long plaid pants and tying them tightly around her waist. She sleeps into the soft green t-shirt, which thankfully is decently close to her size. Lance is essentially 94% leg, after all, so that makes sense. She nearly forgets to grab the bottle Lance asked of her, thankfully remembering just before she opens the door.

She throws it at Lance the second she’s out of the washroom, sniggering at his loud yelp. He sits in the middle of a truly insane amount of soft things, including dozens of pillows, stuffed animals, who knows how many blankets, and —

Pidge squints. “Is that my fuckin’ duvet?”

“You took a million years getting changed,” Hunk explains. “We stole your entire bed. We got mine too. Mattresses are at the bottom of the pile. Want to help me make a structurally sound fort?”

Some part of Pidge wants to protest that — she has a keep out sign on her door for a reason and that reason is Hunk’s nosy ass — but the allure of building a fort is too strong.

“Toss me that measuring tape and a pencil. We are going to blow this shit out of the water.”

———

Forty minutes of her and Hunk’s arguing — interrupted occasionally by Lance’s complaining that forts are inherently unstable and that stem nerds such as them shouldn’t be allowed to ruin the fun — later, a truly beautiful fort is built. They had to sneak into the common room to steal the sturdy couch pillows to make the walls, but with those invaluable assets, Lance’s collection of safety pins, and two and a half dreams, the fort is a thing of fairytales. Two of their mattresses serve as the base, and one of them is the makeshift wall opposite to the real wall. A big sheet is pinned to the ceiling and drapes over the mattress-and-couch-pillow walls to drape like a tent, and blankets and pillows are strewn in a comfy nest over the base. Several low-light crystals are scattered throughout the fort, making it bright enough to see clearly but not too bright to kill the ambiance.

“This is, without a doubt, the best fort I have ever seen,” Hunk says proudly. He shares a grin with Pidge, then flicks Lance teasingly on the nose. “You see what happens when I have a helpful fort-making partner who cares about structural integrity?”

Lance huffs snootily. “You suck the fun out of it, that’s what. Yeah, maybe this fort won’t collapse on top of us while we sleep, but where’s the charm? That character? Where — hey!”

For a moment there is only silence. Eyes shift between Lance’s shocked face, hair a static mess, and the pillow in Pidge’s hands.

And then all hell breaks loose.

It’s ridiculous, really. A pillow fight, at a sleepover? What is this, a low-budget teen movie? But in truth this is nothing like any pillow fight Pidge has ever seen or even experienced before. As soon as the reality of the war sets in, it’s like a switch flips in everybody. All of them forget that they are teammates, friends, people who care about each other, and the one and only goal is to win, by any destructive means necessary. Pidge has a pillow clenched in each hand and whips them down at anyone who comes near — across Hunk’s face, hard into Lance’s belly. Hunk takes the more traditional approach, double-fisting one bigger pillow and wailing it on one victim at a time with full strength. Lance, extra ass bitch that he is, scrambles on top of a dresser like a spider monkey and throws small stuffed-animal projectiles. He never misses. Pidge is nailed in the face no less than twelve times.

After what feels like a thousand years of ruthless battle, Pidge starts to get tired. She’s sweaty, face bright red, hair sticking up everywhere, but she knows she can’t stop. Her honour is at stake, her pride. She will not be the first to fall. In fact she will not fall at all. She will push until she is victorious, until her enemies are felled by hear mighty pillow —

The trill tone of a text rings through the air. Lance makes loud, strangled noise from his perch, leaping off the dresser and somersaulting to his feet when he hits the floor.“Everybody freeze!” he screeches.

Beyond grateful at the call for a ceasefire, Pidge drops the pillows, panting with her hands braced on her knees.

“Dear fucking God almighty, ” Hunk wheezes. “My lungs have shrunk to the size of walnuts, I think.”

Pidge inhales deeply, trying to calm her galloping heart. “Me fucking too.”

She’s about to ask Lance how the hell he’s still standing, but then he lets out what can only be described as an ear-piercing squeal, hand not holding his phone flapping wildly as he hops around the ruins of their beautiful fort.

“Date! Date! I think it’s a date!”

“No way,” Hunk gasps, hurrying over to where Lance is celebrating. He wrenches the phone from Lance’s grip, eyes widening as he reads whatever is on the screen. “Dude!” he exclaims, grinning wildly. “Dude!”

“What?” Pidge finally demands, tired of being left out of the loop. Lance doesn’t answer, too busy spinning in giddy circles around the room until he trips on a stray stuffed animal and collapses on the fort ruins. He stays there, kicking his legs in the air and crowing in glee.

Pidge looks at Hunk, at a total loss for words. Lance is acting like a lunatic , which is saying something, because Lance is so strange regularly that her threshold for Lance-isms is pretty wide.

Despite his similar excitement on Lance’s behalf, Hunk is able to explain. He beckons her closer and points to a text open on Lance’s phone, from the contact ‘willie nelson wannabe’ — Keith. It reads:

from: willie nelson wannabe

i was thinking we cld maybe stick together for the next space mall trip??

from: willie nelson wannabe

u know. safety in numbers and all that

from: willie nelson wannabe

and maybe i can buy u that alien smoothie thing u were telling me about

Pidge’s jaw drops. She thought Lance was exaggerating, but this is very clearly a date. A nervous asking, sure, but the intent is clear.

“Keith?” she asks incredulously. “Lance and Keith? Since fucking when?” She swivels her head between Hunk and Lance, who has finally calmed himself enough to sit still, although a beam still lights up his face and brightens his brown eyes. “I thought you were into Allura!”

Lance waves a dismissive hand. “She’s objectively gorgeous so of course I was interested, you know? But she’s not interested in me, so any crush dried up pretty fast.”

“But Keith?” Pidge can’t quite let it go. Hunk guides her to the fort ruins, and she does willingly, flopping belly-first on top of a small pile of pillows. Her eyes never leave Lance’s. “When did that happen? I thought you two were rivals?”

Hunk snorts. “They are.” He rifles around for a moment, moving aside and shaking out some blankets until he finds the sparkly pink bottle Pidge brought out earlier at Lance’s instruction. He squeezes some green goop onto his fingers, gesturing for Pidge to come closer, and then starts smearing it all over her face as he speaks. “Lance is emotionally challenged and can’t flirt like a normal person, so he picks fights with Keith every time he wants attention.”

Lance sighs dreamily, grabbing something from a shelf and then sitting next to Pidge, too. He starts tying her hair back into short pigtails to get it out of her face, so it doesn’t get stuck in the goop.

“He’s such an asshole,” he says, still sounding whipped as all hell. “A few months ago he had enough of my shit, I guess. I was nagging him about being a show off and he told me to shut the fuck up or he was going to lay me out on the training mats. His eyes were so intense, and his voice was so low I thought I was gonna fucking —”

“Young ears present,” Hunk interrupts loudly, which usually Pidge would protest but in this particular moment decides she will let slide.

Lance goes a little red around the ears, smiling at her sheepishly. “Sorry, Pidgeon. Forgot you’re a baby.” He punctuates this statement with a squeezing of her cheeks, despite Hunk’s chiding about the still-wet facemask. Pidge tries and fails to kick him.

“Anyways,” Lance continues, “I kept being a shit until he really did hand me my ass on the mat, but then he started to get worried that I would die on missions because I suck at hand-to-hand or whatever. He basically forced me to start training with him.”

“Basically forced, he says.” Hunk looks at Pidge, deadpan. “He made his own training outfit — I will spare you the detail of how skimpy it was, you’re welcome — and did his hair. Every time.”

Pidge laughs, which feels weird because the facemask has made her face all stiff. “You did your hair to go train?”

“Oh, piss off. I’ve seen you act a fool whenever a particularly cool robot is anywhere near you, you hypocrite. Shut up and help me text him back.”

She and Hunk do, settling comfortably next to Lance. They snack on the bowl of cucumbers that Lance asserts is supposed to be for the faces, helping Lance draft a response.

“It can’t be too enthusiastic,” Lance mumbles, crouched over the phone. He’s been space-googling ‘how to text your crush like a cool person’ for twenty minutes. Hunk has completely checked out of the task, placing cucumber slices all over his face and giggling to himself. Pidge is starting to get itchy.

“Is this supposed to burn?” she questions, scratching at the dried facemask.

The question startles Lance into dropping his phone. “No, shit, it’s not. C’mere.” He takes a damp rag and gently wipes away the mask, patting her on the cheek when he’s done. “There!” he says, smiling brightly. “Bet that feels nice and fresh, huh?”

It does, actually. She feels like a goddamn daisy.

…But she’s not about to admit that.

“It’s okay, I guess.”

Lance rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. He nudges Hunk with his foot and convinces him to help again, and together the three of them come up with a reasonable response to Keith’s question. (They convince Lance to be honest about his feelings, is what they do. And that’s not without endless nagging and clowning, Pidge can attest.)

Once the text has been sent, the date set, and Lance’s worries are assuaged, the sleepover starts to wind down. It’s well past two in the morning, and training — not including Lance’s private tutelage — was rough that morning. They start to yawn, and then their heads start to nod, and eventually they’re all laid flat on the piles of pillows and mattresses and bedding, limbs all over each other and stuffed animals everywhere.

“Hey, guys?” Pidge whispers, well past half asleep.

“Yeah?” Hunk whispers back. Lance hums.

Pidge doesn’t finish her thought for a while; long enough that she’s nearly sure the other two have fallen asleep.

“Thank you for inviting me,” she says eventually. After an even longer break, Hunk and Lance answer her, words lethargic in their sleepiness.

“‘Course, Pidge.”

“We like hanging out with you.”

Pidge falls asleep with a smile in her face, and sleeps the best she has since her brother went missing.

———

based on this post

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biceratops7 · 7 months

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HOly fucking SHIT-

Guys I just had a complete Shellstrop style “holy motherforking shirt balls” moment at work about Donnie’s unusual speaking patterns. You know, when he does this:

This tendency to narrate his actions in the third person or verbally say onomatopoeias in place of the sound is uh… well it’s autistic right? Look it features in literally every compilation but no one knows why other than “vibes, sometimes it just be like that 🤷”

But NO. No it NOT be like that. I finally know what this fucking nerd is doing, hear me out…

… he’s scripting.

Think about it. You know what else describes action, emotion, and sound in purely words? Books. He has these little speaking quirks, yah, but if you actually zoom out and see the whole picture, Donnie talks like he’s a narrator. This makes a SHIT ton of sense considering we already have textual evidence that he engages in scripting behavior (more specifically some possible echolalia. See: saying “New York! What a Town!” in any situation something kind of abnormal happens after he hears Splinter say it with the exact same infections and everything.)

And we also know from the mystic library that Donnie actively seeks out and enjoys reading. So it stands to reason an autistic 14 year old who likes to be left alone to work on complex machines a decent amount and takes pride in his intellect would model the way he communicates off of written media as opposed to tv or his brothers. He could fill his social tool box with lines from Jupiter Jones and Lou Jitsu movies, but he may think it would give him less of a chance to properly express his capabilities.

Books are also the only form of media that can literally just tell you flat out what a character’s expression or emotion is supposed to be without it being awkward, which would be really appealing for Donnie. What solidifies this for me is the fact that at least once he verbally says “sad face emoji”, which could not have come from a novel or textbook. But we often do flagrantly use emoticons as tone indicators, and Donnie is constantly on his phone.

I think he’s definitely aware that this is not a regular way of communicating, but he’s clearly also self aware of his issues in getting his emotional meaning across and receiving input back. So it stands to reason he would accommodate this in a way that, yes, makes him sound odd, but is at least effective.

Now for my final little “I’ve connected the dots. I’ve connected them” moment, I headcannon that Donnie learned to read before he fully got the hang of speech. Aside from… literally everything I just said, he uses sign language to tell the squirrels to blow up his treehouse in that one episode. But he does the sign for “make” a bit incorrectly (there should be a slight twist in his upper fist), which leads me to believe he was probably taught baby sign out of necessity rather than being fully proficient in asl. This is fairly common for autistic children with speech delays.

#oh look Elliot’s being autistic about autism again #this has been sitting in my drafts for eons #bicera #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise donnie #rise donatello #autistic donnie #meta #analysis #scripting #echolalia #biceratops

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ignis-venenatus · 1 year

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@stella-ignis-rosea asked: “Holy motherforking shirtballs.” For Natsu 😂

The Good Place (Season 1) | Accepting

“Ko... please... just say fuck and shit. You curse almost as much as Gajeel does already. Hearing you censor yourself sounds wrong,”

Natsu would sigh and shake his head. His brother was fifteen cursing was fine. Hell, he had a slightly more foul mouth than Kohaku did at his age. Of course, the Dragon’s mouth had only grown more foul over the years since he was engaged to Gajeel, who had the mouth of a sailor but that was fine.

“I know we tried to keep you from cussing when you were younger but you’re old enough now that it doesn’t really matter anymore. Just say fuck.”

#stella-ignis-rosea #Fire Eater;IC Natsu #Fairy Tail has Always Been a Little Crazy;Main #Kohaku Dragneel - stella-ignis-rosea #I remember Gajeel and Natsu trying to get Ko to stop cursing and now Natsu is just #'please say fuck Ko it sounds so wrong otherwise' lol

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vampiresdontsleep · 3 years

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Wow Loki is actually bi this is fucking surreal

#loki #holy fucking shit #or in the words of eleanor shellstrop #holy motherforking shirtballs #we didnt get bisexual bucky but at least we have this #bisexual loki #loki series #loki show #does this count as #loki spoilers #bisexual #lgbtq #representation at last

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klainelynch · 5 years

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I HAVE 9 MINUTES LEFT IN THE BROADCHURCH SEASON 2 FINALE AND I HAD TO PAUSE THE EPISODE BECAUSE OH MY FUCK

#like I knew it was going to be some shit #but #holy motherforking shirtballs #4 #5 #Broadchurch

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biggest-gaudiest-patronuses · 3 years

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So I (finally!) bought a pair of really good noise cancelling headphones, and it has changed my life! It's the fanciest thing I've bought in years, so to recoup some of the cost, I’ve researched & written a little essay based on my experiences with extreme noise sensitivity.

Hypersensitivity to sound is something I’ve dealt with all of my life, but I only recently found out it's medically known a Hyperacusis. (Please note this is a separate condition from Misophonia.) If you consistently struggle to cope with noise, the info below could be helpful! I’m including a link to my ko-fi, and I will be answering questions in the notes.

(skip to the bottom to read fun facts about my tax return and/or street organs vendettas!)

DISCLAIMER: I am not a professional, this is based solely on my experiences as a patient, and on what I have read and been told by professionals. Please notify me if you have corrections or concerns about accuracy!

BACKGROUND: Sensitivity to sound is a common type of sensory issue. While anyone can experience such issues (most people, for example, might be bothered by loud music in a crowded restaurant), some people are more sensitive than others, to the point it becomes a quality-of-life aka a medical issue.

If you consistently struggle with environmental stimuli that other people aren’t bothered by (background noises, bright lights, certain textures and tastes, etc), to the point it causes daily discomfort or limits the environments you can be in, I recommend reading about Sensory Processing Disorder.

SPD and sound sensitivity are both super common in autistic folks (like me!), but allistic (non-autistic) people can experience them too. Weep, ye prisoners of mortal coil, for none are safe, nothing sacred, not in this thy most accursed tomb of human flesh!

Anyway.

SOUND SENSITIVITY or HYPERACUSIS: Noise issues are particularly difficult to navigate in a world that is increasingly...noisy. The relatively new phenomenon of constant overhead music in restaurants, grocery stores, shopping malls etc—all of this means that public spaces are increasingly inaccessible to people with auditory issues.*

As a kid, nothing quite triggered sensory overload/meltdowns for me like the constant exposure to noise I couldn’t control—the background chatter of other kids in the lunchroom, the constant noise in public spaces, being trapped in the car with the radio on.... I had so many fights with my siblings about the car radio, and who got to choose the music.**

But it’s not just loud sounds that are the problem. As an adult who lives alone and works from home***, I’m lucky enough to be able to avoid loud environments most of the time. This does wonders for my general levels of anxiety and discomfort. But even in a mostly controlled environment, I still experience problems. Because part of sound sensitivity is that even normal or quiet sounds can feel loud and intrusive. Here are some “normal” sounds that can cause me discomfort (ranging from annoyance to outright pain, depending on the day):

refrigerator/AC/ceiling lights humming

dishwasher/washing machine noises

ceiling fan making that damn ceiling fan noise

faint sounds of traffic

riding in a car

other people having a normal conversation in the background

someone talking to me in a perfectly normal inside voice

Unfortunately, even in a “controlled” environment, many triggering noises can’t be controlled. And many parts of life can’t be lived in a controlled environment. This presents...some incredibly freaking annoying problems. Luckily there are solutions!

Sorta.

There are sorta some solutions.

They are imperfect, but they help.

TREATMENT: And now I have something rather shame-faced to admit. In all the years of managing my symptoms, it never once occurred to me to see a hearing specialist for my issues with sound. I wasn’t even aware that treatment options exist, because none of my other doctors mentioned it. Instead, I’ve spent years finding my own coping mechanisms and tools, with help from therapists and psychiatrists, but without ever consulting an audiologist/ENT. It was only while researching this post that I found out that was even an option, holy shit.

So it turns out I am going to be making an appointment with my local ENT practice. shit.

Apparently treatment options include sound/acoustic therapy, systematic desensitization/exposure therapy, cognitive behavior therapy, sound machines, and other options that I had no idea even existed, goddammit.

MANAGEMENT: In the meantime, here are my current coping mechanisms. I’ve relied rather heavily on hearing protection, which is very useful when used in moderation. Unfortunately, it can cause its own problems: it’s important not to overuse hearing protection, because in the long-term this can increase your sensitivity. So again: a useful tool, but be careful not to overdo it.

With that in mind, here are some of the coping strategies I’ve used over the last decade to manage my symptoms. This is not a perfect system and you should contact your local ENT clinic for better, long-term solutions, but in the meantime here are some tips I use to just get myself through the damn day:

Regularly spending time in a quiet controlled environment, to allow my nervous system to decompress.

Wearing earplugs, (I use two different grade, depending on the level of noise prevention I need), and always carrying an extra pair in case I need them unexpectedly. I bought a 50 pack for $7 and put spares in all my bags and jacket pockets.

(I mostly use Mack’s Ultra Soft, but there are so many types and materials and brands, including foam, silicone, wax, custom moldable etc. Even if you have trouble wearing things in your ears, you might be able to find something comfortable.)

Similarly: hearing protection earmuffs, the kind used in gun ranges and on construction sites. I bought mine online for $10. they look like normal wireless headphones, so I've never gotten comments when wearing mine in public (other than “cool heaphones” bc i added skull glitter stickers).

Sometimes I wear the earmuffs on top of earplugs, when life is just too damn LOUD.

Listening to music w/ earbuds or headphones is a great way to balance out background noises, especially if you can find soothing playlists that help you concentrate. Also useful to put in just one earbud when you need to pay attention in class/at work.

Pro tip: if your hair is long enough you can wear wireless earbuds without anyone knowing.

White noise, rain noises, ocean noises etc can be helpful! Some people like whale songs although personally this activates my primal fear response

Active noise cancelling headphones: the reason I wrote this post to begin with—I finally bought a pair! As in, a really good pair! As in, a depressingly expensive pair with noise cancelling technology that actually WORKS, holy shit. I probably need to wear them a little less at home (bc overprotection causes problems in the longterm) but they have absolutely transformed my ability to go out in public and i never ever want to take these suckers off again please take a power screwdriver and nail these to my head, bury me in the sweet sweet shroud of silence. holy canoli and cream puffs I want to marry form a civil partnership with these headphones. Plus they have a bunch of features, like being able to control the level of noise cancellation, so I can hold a conversation or be aware of some ambient noise for safety reasons.

Oh, and also they play music I guess?

Sorry sorry I promise this post wasn’t supposed to be me shilling for Big Electronics. I’m just excited, I’m an excited flabby little ball of expired flubber. ANC headphones aren’t a perfect solution, and I still sometimes wear earplugs underneath, and I will always be uncomfortable some of the time, but for me it’s been a big step.

Unfortunately the cost of good quality ANC technology means this isn’t an option for everyone, and the (much cheaper) gunshot protection earmuffs I mentioned earlier still provide an impressive amount of protection and bang-for-your buck (maybe even an equal amount of protection, if you can find ones that fit well). But if noise consistently prevents you from enjoying public space and life in general, and you’ve already tried earmuffs & earplugs and find they don’t offer enough comfort/convenience/protection, and if you’re in a position to save up for a one time non-necessity purchase of $150+, noise cancelling headphones are an option to be aware of. (Please always check the return policy so you can try before you buy. I ended up buying and returning 2 pairs before finding what worked best for me. And please look for a retailer that offers an extended warranty. You want those motherforkers to last).

There are cheaper options available, including some under $50. The ones I tried didn't work as well as my hearing protection earmuffs, but some people report good experiences, so that is something to consider. it's always good to know your options! Passive noise canceling is another affordable alternative.

Medication: A final tool in my toolbox, which for me personally has helped as much as every other method combined. Like, a lot, it’s helped a lot. It turns out some anti-anxiety medications can also help sensory issues. There’s not much research on this, and I only discovered it firsthand when a medication my doctor prescribed for anxiety ended up significantly helping my sensory issues. I no longer need medication for anxiety, but my psychiatrist still prescribes that same medication off-label for my sensory stuff. Ask your psychiatrist to research your options (they will probably have to do some digging to find relevant research, but you deserve to know all your options, even the obscure ones). Fyi, the medication I use is in the benzodiazepines class, but there are other options for those concerned about dependency or side effects.

(I'm also told anti-anxiety supplements may be helpful, though I haven't tried this yet. If you're on prescription meds, always talk to your doctor about contraindications before taking anything over-the-counter.)

So there you have it, my main coping strategies for sound sensitivity! They are not a replacement for medical treatment (except that last one which is in fact...medical treatment), but I find them helpful and I hope some of you will too! I’ve struggled for a long time, and I’m very pleased to have reached the point where I can just do things in public. Eating out in loud restaurants? I can do that now, and even enjoy it, holy shit! I can comfortably travel in cars for hours at a time, and walk around shopping malls and grocery stores with overhead music, and, and —and just exist. It is so so freeing, to feel like maybe, after everything, you are actually allowed to just exist in a world that wasn’t really designed for you.

Again, be careful not to overuse hearing protection—the goal is to allow you to be less uncomfortable and to function better, but if you find you are becoming more sensitive to noise, it is time to dial it back a notch. Or maybe consider listening to music (at a reasonable volume) to block out background noise instead.

*(This also includes people with hearing loss and related issues, btw. While that’s not my area of knowledge, I would welcome it if any of my HoH followers want to share their experiences.)

**A sign of sensory issues that parents often miss is when a child complains about music being too loud—but has no problem listening to their own music at high volume. This is because music that is already familiar to the listener (and that the listener enjoys) is much easier for the brain to process, since it knows what pattern of sounds to expect. Loud music that they get to control can be soothing for people with sound issues, especially when it blocks out background noise and sensations. This is why repetitively playing the same songs can be a helpful form of stimming.

***(working on this blog, actually. since it’s my only source of income, my 2020 income tax return literally lists my occupation as ‘Tumblr Blogger.’ Oddly, my parent didn’t feel this achievement was worth including in the holiday family newsletter.)

bonus fun fact: Charles Babbage aka “father of the computer” may have been autistic and hypersensitive to sound. He definitely had a huge problem with public noise pollution, and spent his later year waging a war on street musicians (and organ grinders in particular).

(bc like, yeah. screw organ grinders.)

Sometimes when I’m out in public and the overhead music is particularly unbearable, I’ll take a moment to look up to the sky and scream out: “HE TRIED TO WARN US! THE FATHER OF COMPUTERS TRIED TO WARN US!!! we should have listened, sweet heaven we should have listened!”

except i don’t scream it, i say it very quietly under my breath

(i have issues with noise)

so yeah that is my short essay. and here is the ko-fi goal

k ciao i gotta go pick out glitter stickers for my headphones

#actuallyautistic #not a shitpost #holy shit how did i spend 3 hours writing this what even is my blog #this blog is supposed to be blue whale anxiety and uncomfortably sexy clown jokes #what am i doing #sensory processing disorder #sensory issues #mental health #actually autistic #NOTIFY ME OF ANY TYPOS #i proofread this 5 times my eyes weep an unceasing flood of blood and regret #adhd #actuallyadhd #autism #sensory problems

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god-has-a-beard · 2 years

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Part 1 of rating things the Supernatural cast has been in: Misha Collins in Bridgewater

Bridgewater description: Folklore professor Jeremy Bradshaw (Misha Collins) is pulled into the mysterious 1980 disappearance of his police officer, Thomas, by new evidence that threatens to upend decades of certainty. Along the way, he’s helped by some unlikely partners who challenge everything he believes in, and ultimately tries to answer the question: can the past actually be rewritten? (Source: https://www.grimandmild.com/bridgewater)

Thoughts: I freaking loved this podcast. It has it all: intrigue, humor, and emotion. Misha Collins’ character was quite annoying at times, but overall, his character (and a side character named Vipin) ended up being my favorite of the entire podcast. I cannot wait for season 2.

Rating: 5 stars

Character rating: 4 stars

Acting rating: 5 stars

Favorite episode: Season 1, Episode 10

Will I be continuing: Abso-fucking-lutely

Thoughts from each episode (spoilers - I recommend reading only after you listen to the episode):

Episode 1

- Misha Collins really takes the cake for playing characters with absentee fathers

- Mike is exactly the kind of person I’d like to murder in my classes

- This podcast is great

Episode 2

- Vipin is the least convincing liar ever, but he’s a little jelly bean

- Good episode

Episode 3

- Vipin is the best TA ever

- Jeremy is grumpy

Episode 4

- Anne is infuriating - you have literal new messages from a missing guy! Tell someone, you imbecile!

- I enjoyed the interactions with the family

- I love Vipin

- Shit just got real

- Great episode

Episode 5

- Celeste is obnoxious

- What the fuck?!

- Finally, Anne has found her common sense

- Great episode

Episode 6

- Jeremy is acting like a real dunderhead

- Vipin!

- Jeremy is obnoxiously dismissive

Episode 7

- Finally, Jeremy’s common sense has entered the chat

- I take it back. A fucking owl, Jeremy! Really?

- If Jeremy doesn’t help Anne find Ethan, I’ll kill him

Episode 8

- At least Jeremy is helping, but be a bit less of a dick, hon

- Woah, plot twist. I find Jeremy a little less annoying now

- Anne and Thomas were definitely sleeping together, right?

- Great episode

Episode 9

- The captain is the worst

- Anne is a great grandparent

- Bloody hell, Anne! Just when I thought you were a good person

- I had a feeling they were sleeping together, but a whole ass kid!?

- Poor Jeremy

Episode 10

- Finally! I have been waiting for him to teach another class since the 1st episode

- I feel so bad for Jeremy, my bean just wanted a family

- What the fuck, Celeste! You couldn’t have told anyone this!?

- So is he alive on the other side!?

- THOMAS!

- Holy motherforking shirtballs

Things I want to see next season:

- Family reunion

- Family dinner

- More folklore classes

#spn #spnfamily #supernatural #misha collins #misha fucking collins #bridgewater #bridgewater podcast #podcast #grim & mild

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apostate-in-an-alcove · 3 years

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HOLY MOTHERFORKING SHIRTBALLS!! My 7 year old niece just deadass looked at my mom and said “your religion is more important that being a decent person, we already know this” IDK WTF TO SO WITH THIS SHIT!!! HER BALLS ARE SO MUCH BIGGER THAN MY 16 YEAR OLD ONES!!!! YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN THERE!!!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Children say the darndest things sometimes don't they? But in all seriousness, she has more bravery than I would have had when I was younger.

#anon tag #anon ask #anon reply

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littlefreya · 4 years

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I caved & watched MI6 bec you guys won't stop talking about it. And holy fcking shit! I am shooked to the core! I understand now. I understand why you're all so thirsty for August Walker and your fics has made much more sense and has had more meaning for me now. I mean I already enjoyed them even if I hadn't seem the movie. Motherforking shirtballs I'm not gonna move on from this movie for a while.

Oh honey, welcome to the wonderful August Walker thrist club. 💦👨🏻

I’m so happy you enjoyed my stories before watching the movie. 😍

And yes, he is a terrible bastard and I want him to lay claim to my pussy.

#august walker #mission impossible #mission impossible fallout #Mi6

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autisticlancemcclain · 2 years

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“Shiro. Shiro. Shiro. I have important information. Shiro. Shiro.”

“Yes, Keith. I’m listening.”

Shiro looks at his dumbass little brother patiently, setting down his knitting. Keith is staring at the space slightly to the left of where Shiro is sitting, eyes unfocused. Shiro lets him sit in the silence for a bit, knowing the meds made him a little slow and loopy. He’ll get there.

He can’t tamp down a fond grin. It happens so often it should be boring, now, but loopy Keith will always be funny. It was like every bit of jadedness he’d picked up over the years melted away, leaving only the awkward, loveable dork Shiro knew and loved.

“I have — I have important information,” Keith repeats haltingly.

“I got that, buddy,” Shiro encourages. “Want to share that info? I’m listening.”

Keith hums. He blinks a few times, gaze finally locking onto Shiro’s, who smiles at him.

“It’s — it’s about Lance.”

Shiro fights to keep his smile from getting mischievous, to keep his expression pleasantly neutral. Oh, this was going to be good.

“Yeah, bud? What about him?”

Keith blinks again, his expression grave. “His tongue peeks out a little when he smiles real big, Shiro. A real smile. The one he gets when he talks about his family.” Keith takes great care to enunciate every word, tone completely serious. “That’s — it’s Very Important, Shiro. Okay?”

Look, Shiro’s a disciplined guy. He has a lot of internal strength. Really. But keeping a straight face as his baby brother looks him dead in the face, eyes as serious as a heart attack, and starts talking smush about how much he loves his crush’s smile?

C’mon. Come on. Of course he laughs a little! It would be weird if he didn’t!

“Shiro!” Keith scolds. “I’m serious! It’s important! We have to make sure Lance smiles like that. He gets sad sometimes. We gotta remind him he’s important, so he smiles.”

“You’re so whipped,” Shiro says fondly.

Keith goes back to staring at the wall, just as serious as before.

Shiro wonders if he’s thinking about Lance’s eyes, this time.

It won’t be the first time Shiro heard about them, that’s for damn certain.

———

“I did what.”

Keith’s face is so red that it’s concerning. Or, well, Shiro would be concerned, if he wasn’t so busy losing his shit.

“‘We have to protect his smile, Shiro’,” he mocks between wheezes. Keith wacks him full-force with a pillow.

“Fuck off,” he says hotly. “There’s no way I said that.”

There’s a moment of pained, contemplated horror, before Keith looks at him aghast. “Did I?”

Shiro laughs so hard he goes silent. Keith hits him again, but it’s weaker.

“Oh my god, I did fucking say that. I fucking — oh my god. Oh my god!”

Keith collapses back on his bed. He puts his pillow-weapon over his face and screams. Shiro finally gets ahold of himself, forcing his laughter down. He pats Keith on the shoulder, trying very deeply to be supportive and understanding even though literally all he wants to do is laugh and laugh and laugh.

“There, there,” he says, voice shaking.

Keith removes his pillow just to glare at Shiro. “Fuck off,” he says again, but this time it sounds resolved. “God. Do I — do I like him?”

Shiro blinks. Is he — is he serious? “Are you being deadass with me right now?”

“I mean, I know he’s hot and everything.”

Shiro cannot believe his fucking ears. He feels like that stupid Spider-Man meme. ‘Do you see this shit, Daisy?’ -type beat. Because there’s no fucking way. No fucking way this boy does not know.

“Like I’m attracted to him, sure, who wouldn’t be —”

Holy shit.

“— but, like. I don’t like him, do I?”

Holy shit.

“I mean, he’s my rival! How can I like him?”

Holy shit! Holy motherforking shirtballs! This little dumbass has no idea!

“Like, yeah, sure, he’s occasionally funny, I guess. And I guess he’s kind of sweet — did you know he checks on all of us before bed every night? Yeah! That’s kind of cute. And, god, there’s all those little gifts he makes, and he’s so protective —”

Shiro just stares at Keith with a quiet kind of awe. There’s no way his brother is this much of a dumbass. Is that even possible? For someone so smart to be so fucking dumb?

The sigh Keith lets out can only be described as dreamy. “ — and shit, Shiro, you should see him kick ass in training, he’s been working on this insane triple flip maneuver…”

All of a sudden Keith trails off. For the first time since Lance was brought up (by Keith, Shiro might add), Keith is silent.

“Oh my god,” he says, shooting up straight and looking at Shiro with wide eyes. “Oh my god, Shiro, oh my god. I’m in love with him! Oh my god!”

Because Shiro loves his dumbass little brother, he holds himself back from saying ‘no shit, Sherlock’.

“Congratulations, doofus. You’re officially the last to know.”

Well. He mostly holds himself back.

Kind of.

He holds himself back a little, okay? That counts for something.

Keith gapes at him. “Everyone knows?”

Shiro nods, because even the allies they’ve only met once know.

“How can everyone know? I didn’t even know!”

“Well, you’re kind of oblivious,” Shiro says.

“Hey!”

“Sorry, bud. It’s true. I mean, you didn’t even know you liked Lance until a couple minutes ago.”

“Of course I didn’t! It’s not like it’s obvious!”

Shiro decides it’s in his best interest to keep his mouth shut. Keith tends to get a little stab-y when annoyed. He’s easily provoked, like a particularly skittish kitten.

“Oh my god. Is it obvious? I thought you were exaggerating!”

“Uh, no. Anyone with a basic understanding of human behaviour knows you’re absolutely down bad for Lance, bud.”

Keith makes a kind of squeaking noise, which is hilarious and also makes Shiro wish he had recorded it.

“Holy shit! Does Lance know?”

Shiro can’t quite hide his grimace. “Well, he doesn’t… not know, per se.”

“That’s so embarrassing, god, I am going to eject myself into space —”

“Well, I don’t think it’s that big of a deal. Lance likes you, too, so I imagine it all evens out, yeah?”

“Lance fucking likes me?”

Shiro needs some shut-the-fuck-up practice. Seriously. He clears his throat.

“Um, yeah. He regularly complains about you being too chickenshit to ask him out.”

“He regularly — I’m too — if he knew I liked him, how come he didn’t ask me out?”

Shiro shrugs, although he’s pretty damn sure he knows why.

“Maybe you should ask him,” he says.

Keith’s eyes narrow dangerously. “Of course I’m going to talk to him. In fact —”

He throws his legs over the side of the bed with a pained grunt.

“Woah, there, Casanova,” Shiro says, pressing a hand to his shoulder. “Back down you go.”

“Absolutely not, Shiro,” Keith argues as he lies back down, “I need to talk to that dumbass. I need to tell him —”

“And you will have your big gay moment,” Shiro promises. “I’ll send him over, okay? After you nap. No need to rip your stitches.��

“I don’t want to nap,” Keith says petulantly, crossing his arms like a six year old.

Shiro pats his brother’s head as he tucks him in. Shiro can’t help but grin to himself. He remembers doing this for a much younger little kid, half the size but just as grouchy. He pushes Keith’s bangs back, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead. Keith grumbles about germs, but allows it.

“Talk to Lance later. Heal for now. Love you, kiddo.”

Keith rolls his eyes, but the corners of his mouth twitch. “Whatever.”

Shiro shakes his head with a grin, flicking Keith on the nose before heading for the door. Just as he’s closed the lights and steps out into the door frame, Keith stops him.

“Shiro?”

Shiro freezes. Yeah, his voice is a little deeper, a little more grown, but it’s the same little kid who woke him up in the dead of night because he had a nightmare and wanted Shiro to tuck him back in.

“Yeah, Keith?” His voice cracks with emotion, but Keith doesn’t comment on it.

“…Thank you. For staying with me. For, uh, your advice, too, even though it kind of sucked.”

Shiro laughs quietly. “Anytime.”

“And, um. I love you too. Even if you’re a dweeb.”

Shiro smiles so wide his eyes crinkle, and turns back a bit to look at Keith.

“I know, you little goober. I love you too.”

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