Only been watching The Pitt for a few days but Mel King is THE best autistic character ever written in a medical drama. She doesn't "make connections no one else can" or "just see things differently" or any other Savant with Special Abilities stereotypical bullshit, she's a resident physician who's exactly as intelligent and capable as any other resident physician in the same year. She hates unnecessary yelling because it's loud and annoying, not because she's completely incapable of handling conflict. She usually keeps her stimming subtle enough to hide but sometimes she can't. She loves having a furry critter to pet. She accommodates an autistic patient by lowering the lights and closing the doors because she understands the sensory nightmare of an active medical setting. She speaks in a straightforward and honest way but she isn't an overtly rude inconsiderate asshole. She misses some jokes and takes things too literally on occasion but she does have a sense of humor and she is funny. She speaks up against misinformation and parent panic about autism and other developmental disabilities. She has emotions. She looks at a video of a lava lamp on her phone to chill. Doctor Mel King you have my entire heart
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hudson williams saying shane hollander is autistic and that he based his performance on his neurodivergent dad, and connor storrie saying that shane's autistic traits are things that make him charming... oh you will both be reincarnated as a beautiful lotus flowers
One of the things I love about The Pitt's portryal of an autistic character, is that there's a girl-genius medical student (not the autistic character) and there is a doctor who has no social life outside of their work (also not the autistic character) and then, there's a skilled, cool under pressure, very professional and also crying sometimes, when she gets emotional, and self-regulating when she gets overwhelmed (sometimes at a suggestion of others, but that was only once) doctor, who actually is autistic (coded). Oh, btw, that doctor has a sister, also autistic (confirmed), and the two of them are best friends. :D
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hannibal lecter x autistic!reader
masterlist β taglist
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wc. 1k
premise.
based on this ask!
iβm so excited to hear autistic!reader and hannibal are getting multiple parts, i literally stimmed lol. i feel so seen. thank you. π
warnings.
none.
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The house was alive with people.
This was arguably your least favourite time of the week, Dinner Party Night.
You stood beside Hannibal near the entrance hall, smoothing invisible wrinkles from your sleeves for what must have been the twentieth time.
You had practiced.
You had spent nearly an hour deciding what to wear because Hannibal always looked immaculate, and you wanted people to look at the two of you and think you belonged together.
You wanted him to be proud.
His hand found the small of your back.
"You are tense," Hannibal observed quietly, his voice low enough that only you could hear.
"I'm trying not to be," you admitted.
His thumb rubbed a slow circle against your waist, he turned toward you fully, shutting out the arriving guests for one fleeting moment.
"You owe no one a performance," Hannibal said gently.
"I know," you whispered. "But... they're your friends."
"They are my guests."
"They're important." you argued.
His expression softened.
"You," he corrected, "are important."
The warmth of his words settled somewhere inside you, but they did little to quiet the nervous buzzing beneath your skin.
For the first hour, you tried, you truly tried.
A woman with pearls asked about your hobbies.
You answered honestly.
"I enjoy categorising books in our library by publication date."
She blinked.
"Oh."
Silence.
You weren't sure whose turn it was to speak.
Eventually, she smiled politely before excusing herself to refill her wine.
Another guest began discussing opera.
You knew quite a lot about opera.
You talked for nearly ten minutes about funeral marches in nineteenth-century compositions, the symbolism of death in stage direction, and the historical evolution of requiem performances.
Halfway through, you noticed his eyes wandering toward someone else.
Had you said too much? Too little? You couldn't tell.
He thanked you awkwardly before drifting away.
Every conversation felt like being handed a script with half the pages missing.
Everyone else somehow knew when to laugh.
When to interrupt.
How long eye contact should last.
When a question required an honest answer and when it required something... prettier.
You never seemed to know.
By the time dinner was served, your chest felt tight.
The dining room buzzed with conversation.
You couldn't find a place to fit.
So you stopped trying.
Quietly, you slipped away from the crowd.
There was a small armchair, your favourite one to be clear, just beyond the library.
You sat there, folding your hands together.
You ounted the raindrops racing down the glass.
One.
Two.
Three.
The numbers made considerably more sense than people.
You stared outside, trying very hard not to cry.
Not because anyone had been cruel.
Nobody had.
They had all been perfectly polite.
You had wanted tonight to go well.
You had wanted Hannibal to look across the room and think...
That's my darling.
They're extraordinary.
Instead...
You couldn't even figure out how to have a conversation.
You hadn't heard the approaching footsteps, you only noticed them when someone stopped beside your chair.
"You've disappeared," Hannibal said gently, his voice carrying no accusation, only quiet concern.
You looked up at him.
His expression was as composed as ever, but his eyes had softened the moment they found yours.
He crouched beside your chair rather than standing over you, bringing himself to your level.
"Is everything all right?" he asked softly. "Do you require anything?"
"I'm fine," you answered quietly.
He studied your face for a long moment.
"You may tell me," he said, his tone as gentle as the rain against the glass.
Your fingers twisted together tightly.
"I think..." you began hesitantly, searching for words that never seemed to come as easily as everyone else's. "I think I'll just sit here for a little while."
Hannibal nodded
"I'm sorry," you whispered after a moment.
His brow furrowed ever so slightly, "What are you apologising for?"
"I don't know how..." You paused, swallowing around the lump in your throat. "I don't know how to talk to them."
"I wanted to. I really wanted to make you proud."
Hannibal reached for your hands, gently untangling your fingers before enclosing them within his own.
"My dear," he said warmly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles, "you were doing wonderfully."
You blinked, "I was?"
"Yes," he answered without hesitation.
"I kept saying the wrong things."
"There are no wrong things," Hannibal replied calmly.
You frowned slightly, "They stopped talking to me."
"They exhausted their own ability to contribute," he corrected with quiet certainty.
Despite yourself, a small smile tugged at your lips.
Hannibal smiled in return.
"I watched you this evening," he admitted. "You made an effort because you knew it mattered to me... I know how difficult that was for you. I saw every conversation you began."
He lifted one of your hands and pressed a lingering kiss against your fingers, "I also saw your courage."
"You should not measure your success by whether strangers understand you," Hannibal continued gently. "Measure it by the fact that you tried despite your discomfort."
"I am immensely proud of you." He smiled ever so slightly.
"And," he added, "I would be delighted to hear everything you know about nineteenth-century opera."
"I suspect," Hannibal said thoughtfully, "that your observations are considerably more interesting than those of my guests."
"They might become rather detailed."
"I should hope so."
"They could last an hour."
"I shall consider myself fortunate."
You shook your head, a genuine smile spreading across your face now, "You really don't mind?"
"My love," Hannibal said tenderly, reaching up to brush a loose strand of hair behind your ear, "there are very few things I enjoy more than listening to you speak about something you love."
The ache that had settled inside your chest all evening began to loosen.
Because the one person whose opinion truly mattered had never wanted you to be anyone other than yourself.
You leaned forward, your lips met his in a gentle, lingering kiss.
When you pulled away, Hannibal rested his forehead lightly against yours.
You smiled, your heart feeling lighter than it had all evening.
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Rick Sanchez is my favorite autism representation ever. First of all heβs not babied or made fun of by the other characters like a lot of the time in media (Sheldon Cooper). Itβs not thrown in your face like βomg guys this character is autistic everyone needs to know this character is autistic!!!!!β Itβs subtle but at the same time itβs very clear that man is autistic. And on top of all that he isnβt ashamed in the slightest for it and he is open about it and isnβt afraid to let people know.
Having issues with the autistic Barbie and the execution of her is fine.
Having issues that she is distinctly visually coded to be a higher support needs autistic women is not.
The tools and disability aids she is shown using are real tools and aids that real people need and use daily. Theyβre not some fake stereotype. Theyβre real people. People that now could feel unwanted by their very own community. Incorrectly feel that theyβre less worthy of being properly represented in media and toys.
Itβs fine to hope sheβs not the only autistic Barbie doll they will make. She likely isnβt! The Fashionistas brand has precedent for reusing disability traits on multiple dolls. Itβs what the modern version of the line was founded on. Simpler fashions to save budget for higher inclusivity and diversity in doll molds and props.
And Mattel as a brand has precedent for being able to represent lower support need autistic frankly fantastically well with their character Twyla Boogeyman in monster highs 3rd generation!
Iβd heavily recommend her dolls and debut episode with heaps of love to any lower support needs autistic people whoβs looking for great representation in a doll line. Iβd also recommend her to introverts who are looking for something that represents introversion as a concept positively without Demonising it or treating it like a flaw to overcome!
I love her as a character. I feel more seen by her than any other character in fiction!
But she too is a limited representation of autism as a disorder as a whole. Because sheβs so specifically lower support needs! Her stimming is non obtrusive bracelet fiddling and hand flapping, she can communicate her needs easily with minimal preparation, she only needs her noise cancelling headphones in situations of excessive noise like parties or concerts instead of always, her meltdowns are her shutting down over lashing out.
That is not the case for everyone. That is not the case for a lot of people! None of that is a flaw with her character, sheβs made to represent a specific experience set. And she does that experience set really well!
The Autistic Barbie is the opposite. She is specifically a higher support needs woman. She represents a collection of the experiences from that specific experience set.
The actual execution of how well that is done is perfectly fine to debate and discuss. But acting like her having those traits at all is βbad repβ feels really gross to me and reeks of internalised ableism. Especially when real people have them.
Erasing her tablet and ear defenders does not make her βbetterβ rep. Disability aid visibility and normalisation is an important, frankly under discussed part of representation.
Her being high support needs is not a negotiable part of her.
