I CAN’T BELIEVE WE JUST WATCHED A TEENAGER DIE

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I CAN’T BELIEVE WE JUST WATCHED A TEENAGER DIE
hmm yes I am fine 🥹
YER A WIZARD PUGSLEY
Awwww, it was nice of Badyah to have the first turn to help assuage Norma’s anxiety.
Okay, but I’ve been that kid. I was never scared of meeting mascots or anything, but I was equally confused and a little weirded out by them. I mean, even at this age I knew they weren’t real. “Mickey Mouse isn’t that tall, obviously” type of deal. And while I could read that the adults around me were being encouraging, I couldn’t read the mascot. That’s a blank face. There’s nothing there. I don’t know what the mascot wants, and when you’re planning on sitting on him that’s a big deal.
And, yeah, I never had the head fall off, but I can see why that’d make you laugh! All that time worrying about how the mascot will be, only for him to literally fall on his face. It’s a nice reminder. He’s not real! He’s not scary because he’s not real! Now there’s a whole crowd of faces to read, with no blanks. It’s comforting. It’s silly.
(Also, don’t think I didn’t notice Mom in the corner seeming a little weirded out by her laughing. She processes differently, ma’am, it’s perfectly normal)
Sweetie, that implies literally anyone in this park is gonna trust your body-snatching ass in the first place.
Barney’s gonna wake up from whatever weird soul hell he’s in to find out Logs has moved entire states away after leaving it to two socially inept people and a fucking dog to do the flirting.
God, I know exactly what she means.
When you’re an autistic kid, you don’t have the basic social skills most kids have. Well, you do, to an extent, but there’s so many things you don’t understand. Facial expressions, certain jokes, tones of voices. It’s so confusing.
So you do a little patchwork. You find patterns. Okay, this person makes this face when sad, so that must be a sad face. This person uses this tone to convey this meaning. Try to copy it. On and on as you refine and work towards understanding people in ways most have built into them by birth. My way of socializing is a quilt of weird 90s slang and overly complicated words from bouncing between cartoons, old books, and my peers.
Pauline taught Norma how to act. Taught her how to wow a room or what to do when a demon possesses your friend’s dog. Pauline was literally this girl’s Frankenstein, and she’s the “monster” made from it.
But not the real Pauline. She admires- she grew with- the fake one. And that’s the one she’s singing to. A goodbye.