the thing about ai witch hunt is that instead of spreading awareness about why and how ai can be harmful, people focus their energy on harassing other people instead. so instead of actually achieving something, fandom space and the internet as a whole just became twice as toxic because people have found a ✨noble way✨ to tell other people to off themselves and get praises for it. you’re not helping. you’re part of the problem
Autistic reader who’s a part of the avengers and always wears sunglasses to fights and everyone just assumes it so they look bad ass (which is a plus) but it’s really just because of how bright it is outside and they get overwhelmed easily
They also are always blasting music and when people try to reach them through the coms nobody can reach them and everyone thinks they do it to annoy everyone, but they just can’t think clearly without it in high stress scenarios
How I think the women of The Pitt would react when learning that their coworker and partner is autistic.
AGELESS BLOGS AND MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED
Author's Note: This is purely for entertainment purposes; the depictions of autism in this work are reflective of fictional and personal experiences and are not intended to represent the lives and experiences of all autistic individuals.
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Dana Evans
When you casually mention being autistic in conversation, Dana immediately interrupts you.
"Wait, wait, wait. You never said anything about bein' autistic."
"Dana...just last night I literally went nonverbal for an hour while watching aquarium videos in your bed."
"I don't know kid, I thought that was just a millenial thing."
"I'm...I'm not even a millennial."
Since then, whenever you spend the night at Dana's, you notice that the lights of her bedroom have been dimmed and her kitchen is always stocked with your safe foods.
One day, Dana shows up to work adorning a God awful t-shirt reading "I love my beautiful cute amazing funny unique autistic partner" complete with Clipart of a kitten wearing an autistic flag sweater. It takes about 3 minutes before you ask Robby if you can please take the day off before you die from embarrassment.
Cassie McKay
You're a little hesitant to talk to Cassie about being autistic because you're not quite sure how she'll react.
To your utter delight, she immediately does everything within her power to make things more accessible for you whenever you're around.
During lulls in her shift, Cassie asks Mel for advice and resources on how she can support you.
Cassie definitely misinterprets what you mean when you say you're sensitive to touch, always gently holding you as though you're about to break.
"Cassie i said I was autistic, not made of glass"
"I just don't want to make you uncomfortable. I know how touch can be overwhelming."
"I'd actually prefer if you just squeezed me like a lemon right now."
Now that you've given her the go ahead, Cassie acts as your personal weighted blanket whenever you need to unwind at the end of the day.
Cassie loves talking to you about your special interests, willing to sit and listen to you ramble for nearly an hour about something she doesn't quite understand but is overjoyed to be included in.
Trinity Santos
Trinity notices that you never really laugh at her nicknames and jokes about you. Of course, she thinks the issue must be that she isn't being funny enough, so she doubles down and tries twice as hard to make you giggle.
It isn't until the day that one of her jokes results in you looking at her with tears in your eyes that she realizes she fucked up.
"Do you not like me?" You ask her after about the fifth time today that she's called you a weirdo.
Trinity's heart immediately sinks to her stomach when she realizes that what she thought was flirting was actually her accidentally bullying you.
Since then, you've had a heart to heart with her about how being autistic means you can be hyper-sensitive. Now, wherever she makes a joke that might come off as a little too mean, she takes the time to reassure you and ask if what she said was okay.
This being said, if anyone else even comes close to making fun of you, she is ready to verbally and physically tear their throat out as soon as you leave the room.
"Babe I don't get why you had to yell at Dennis like that, you call me a weirdo all the time"
"That's because you're my weirdo."
Trinity loves to buy you little gifts that remind her of you. Whether it's a plush of your special interest, your favorite snacks, or a stim toy, you'll always find something sitting for you in your locker by the time your shift starts.
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Special thanks to danaevansashtray for giving me the idea of Dana being a boomer ally to her autistic partner. Comment if you'd like to see Baran, Samira, and Mel!
How do we feel about Jack Abbot x high functioning autistic reader?
I haven't seen anything so far. I imagine her masking very well but at some point she can't take it anymore, maybe because something triggering happened. Social cues , stress and everyone talking at once overwhelming her.
Jake would probably be shocked, specially since they are dating for a while and reader hasn't mentioned anything. I feel like Mel is the perfect person to help her, like getting her in a room where everything is nice and quiet, no big night and after a while Jack comes in and she confuses everything.
can you write a fan fic of samira x female reader wanting to have a baby, using ivf and picking a sperm donor, the reader is autistic and samira says she can carry so that reader doesn’t have sensory overload, reader surprises her by saying she wants to carry, even if she might shut down or have overloads, she knows she has samira by her side
My house of stone, your ivy grows and now I'm covered in you
Summary: Samira and you have been dating since she finished her year as an R3, so you’ve decided to start a new chapter in your lives and have a baby. Despite everything, she offers to carry the baby so you don’t get overwhelmed by the entire pregnancy process, but you really want to carry her child, no matter the complications, as long as you know she’ll be by your side
Warnings: mild mention of sensory overload, emotional overload; no reproduction fetish is being portrayed here—this is purely lighthearted. I’m not a doctor or anything close to one; I’m just a silly girl writing at 3:00 a.m., so please forgive me if this isn’t what you expected or isn’t accurate.
They had been through a lot as a couple—it was truly a journey they were proud to talk about in public. The way they could understand each other with just a glance or a light touch of their hands was enough to know how the other was feeling.
She, too, had a special knack for knowing when a situation was too much for you—a brightly lit room, a noisy crowd, clothes that were too rough—and she made it her mission to create a little haven of comfort and love inside your apartment.
So when you started talking seriously about starting a family, Samira was the first to jump in, volunteering to carry the baby.
“We know how overwhelming this can be and how tedious pregnancy and postpartum are,” she had said as they were curled up on the living room sofa, not really paying attention to the show playing in the background. “I won’t make you go through that stress when I can do it myself,” she emphasized, tightening her embrace to pull you close to her side.
Despite everything, you couldn’t stop thinking about how difficult it would also be for your beloved girlfriend, even though deep down you knew it was just a small excuse to mention that you wanted to carry her child.
The few times you visited her mother and her new boyfriend, he had insisted on showing you, for three hours straight, all the photos of little Samira in every possible situation—including the embarrassing ones.
You couldn’t stop daydreaming about holding a mini version of your girlfriend in your arms, with her beautiful eyes hidden behind thick black lashes; your heart ached just thinking about it.
Despite this, neither of you had much time to think about who would be the surrogate mother due to the multiple appointments and waiting lists at every possible clinic in Pittsburgh; that didn’t change much over the course of a few weeks.
But today, just today, you felt there was no turning back. You were getting ready for the first part of this terrifying journey. You were sitting on the edge of the bed you still shared, wrapped in the soft bathrobe they’d gotten so it wouldn’t scratch your skin. You just watched Samira getting ready in front of the mirror, not really knowing how to bring up the subject.
Despite your efforts to seem as normal as possible, Samira noticed your strange behavior as she watched you through the mirror.
“Is something wrong, honey?” she asked, sitting down next to you on the bed and planting tender kisses on your temple.
You turned to look into her eyes—those eyes you’d dreamed of seeing on the face of your unborn baby—and you couldn’t bear the thought of missing this chance.
“Samira, what would you say if I told you I want to carry the baby?” you said, lowering your gaze to your hands, still slightly damp, your face flushing with uncertainty and a hint of restrained excitement.
You lifted your gaze slightly to look at your girlfriend’s face at her lack of response, only to find the most radiant expression you had ever seen on her. She leaned in, tucking a few strands of damp hair behind your ears and giving you a long kiss on the forehead
“Sweetheart, that would be the most beautiful thing I could ever ask for.” She then covered your face with little kisses before pulling away to let you get ready. You sat there for a few seconds before starting to get dressed, a silly smile on your face.
You couldn’t wait for this.
The reception area of the office was quiet; the secretary was energetically typing in the information Samira was dictating to her while you sat on one of the plush sofas, reading a small brochure without much interest. Samira returned, sat down next to you, gently took your hand, and rested her head on your shoulder.
“Are you absolutely sure?” she asked again, making you laugh and causing you to snuggle up against her. You nodded vigorously, glancing up slightly every time a door in the hallway opened.
“Okay, okay, they said we’d be going in in five minutes.” You both let out a relieved sigh, knowing that from there on out, things would be an emotional roller coaster.
It had all been strange, as if you’d been in a little bubble during the first few months of the process. It was relatively easy compared to other couples, and in less than two months of treatment, the test had come back positive. The excitement hit both of you like a truck—you hadn’t even anticipated everything that came with it.
From one moment to the next, everything exploded—literally.
First came the nausea. You’d banished yourself from the kitchen during lunchtime because the smells made you sick, though of course, your girlfriend tried to cook things with neutral flavors and aromas you used to tolerate to avoid that sickening feeling in your stomach—despite your growing appetite. Despite her efforts, this didn’t save you from morning sickness.
You used to wake up very early just to stagger a little to the bathroom and end up throwing up everything you’d eaten the day before; even if you hadn’t eaten anything, she’d sit by your side, rubbing your back and holding your hair until the wave of nausea subsided.
She barely had the patience to stay by your side while you sobbed over how awful it was to be forced to vomit.
A small respite during the first two months was seeing the first images of your baby; you both cried a lot in the car.
By the fifth month, you found yourself lying down on any available surface more often than helping Samira with the nursery and the baby’s preparations; your back ached just from existing, and you couldn’t stand being on your feet for long stretches. on top of that, the growth and pain in your breasts were bothersome; regardless of your size, pregnancy had made them much more sensitive and heavy, though to be fair, Samira didn’t give you time to complain because she had already bought maternity bras to keep everything in place and always brought you a chair so you could sit near her while they prepared the baby’s room.
Although everything had been controlled and managed, there was something inevitable: the delivery came earlier than expected, long before you could have prepared yourself for everything it entailed. That little corner of your own world had exploded in an instant— the fluorescent lights of the hospital, the beeping of machines, the collective murmur of other patients outside—you ended up sobbing next to Samira, trying to block out all the noise in your head.
Time seemed to fade from your mind; you tried to focus solely on Samira’s voice whispering instructions in your ear during the C-section. You felt sweat running down your body and swore that at any moment you would fall apart piece by piece on that stretcher.
In the end, what brought you back to the world of the living was a small, sharp, and loud cry. You immediately opened your eyes, focusing right away on the tiny creature they were bringing to your chest. You sobbed chokingly as you looked at the little one and then at Samira—your precious angel had finally arrived and was already with you.
You spent a few nights in the hospital making sure that both you and your newborn son were doing well; it had been a difficult delivery, but after a few nights in the incubator, he was ready to come home with you.
Your family and friends were over the moon with the little one and showered both of you with countless gifts and attention; despite all the affection, the only thing you wanted was to be together, as a family.
Samira took care of both of you with incredible dedication; even on the days she was on shift, she managed to make sure you were both okay. At the end of a long day, the three of you would lie down together on the sofa, sharing warmth with each other and admiring the little being you had brought into the world together.
Even after everything—the sleepless nights, the crying, the discomfort, and the pain—you didn’t regret it, not when you had the two most important people in the world in your arms.
vaporwave
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