Start using support levels instead of functioning labels!
For the uninformed, functioning labels are terms like high functioning autism, low functioning autism, mild autism, severe autism. Other words like moderate or level 1, level 2, etc may be used too.
Functioning labels are extremely offensive because they’re placed on autistic people based on observation from the outside. This is problematic for three reasons.
Functioning labels determine how autistic people are treated. People associate “low functioning/severe” with incompetence or infancy and they end up treating the autistic person like a pet or a baby. High functioning/mild gets stereotyped as people who are just a little quirky and their difficulties get ignored as laziness or intentional stubbornness.
Functioning labels imply brokenness and treat people as if their intrinsic value is determined by what they contribute to society rather than the fact that they are a living being with oxygen in their lungs and blood in their veins like everybody else.
Functioning labels create a dichotomy as if there are differing “levels” of autism or that people exist on different areas of the spectrum. NO, NO, NO, that’s not how it is.
Think of spectroscopy and how the elements create their own signature color lines. Now put peoples’ names in place of the elements: Hydrogen/Harold, Helium/Henry, Lithium/Luke, Oxygen/Olga, Carbon/Carol, Nitrogen/Nadine.
Autism is like that. We’re all on the same spectrum and all that is unique is how we display our symptoms, our sensory issues, our splinter abilities and so forth.
In light of that, I want to change the language. Let’s start pushing for support levels instead of functioning labels.
High support: Anyone who isn’t able to live independently and needs help with some or all of their basic daily living skills such as eating, bathing, basic grooming, putting on makeup, getting dressed and completing tasks. Can be abbreviated online or in writing as HSP for High Support Person or HSAP for High Support Autistic Person.
Usage in speech: Clarissa is a high support autistic person and needs assistance with getting dressed and taking a shower. Abbreviated usage online: I’m a HSAP and I’m really into physics, so the poor sucker who signs me on is gonna hear a lot about it when they hand me my iPad!
Medium support: Anyone may or may not live independently and doesn’t need help with basic living skills, but needs help with other things like cooking, completing some tasks, transportation if unable to drive and assistance for things like grocery shopping. Can be abbreviated online or in writing as MSP for Medium Support Person or MSAP for Medium Support Autistic Person.
Usage in speech: Kevin is a medium support autistic person and needs some assistance to prepare meals and shop for the wood he uses for his carpentry projects. His boyfriend, Max, usually helps him with those. Usage online: I’m a MSAP and I’m looking for info about saws. Any fellow auties know what’s best for cutting oak?
Low support: Anyone who more often than not lives independently and may only need assistance with minor things like balancing a checkbook, getting started on some tasks like organizing a garage sale or arranging to move from one house to another. Can be abbreviated online or in writing as LSP for Low Support Person or LSAP for Low Support Autistic Person.
Usage in speech: Jesse is a low support autistic person and she only needs help keeping her checkbook balanced. Usage online: I’m a LSAP and I’m thinking about moving to Seattle. What’s the weather and traffic like there?
Reasons support levels are better:
They don’t make assumptions about intelligence
They don’t encourage infantilization or pity
They sound more respectful and dignified
Ditch functioning labels and start using support levels. These terms can apply to practically every kind of disability, not just autism.
For the record, I’m a MSAP.
Please reblog this whether you’re disabled or not. Make this viral.
new girl brings rainstorms to Riverdale, and more specifically, more rain in
Word count: 1,844
A/N: I’m sorry I haven’t
been writing requests, but this idea popped in my head and I decided to write
it. Hope you all enjoy!
He only saw her when it was raining. Maybe it was pure coincidence, or maybe it was
The first time he met her was a rainy Monday afternoon. It was the first day of their freshman year in
Riverdale High. Jughead continuously
announced to anxiety-ridden Archie and Betty that he was not nervous at all. He would never admit it, but there was a
twinge of fear in his stomach as he walked through the doors of his new school.
The day became a blur in his memories, nothing especially
memorable occurring. Except one thing:
(Y/N) had just moved to Riverdale from Seattle, so her rainy
first day of school in a small town helped her transition from the large city
she was used to. She sat in her last
class of the day, English, when the rain began to pour even harder. Right as the bell signaling the beginning of
class rang, one last boy walked through the door.
Jughead knew that, by being late, he wouldn’t get a seat in
the back of the classroom that he craved. There was only one vacant seat left next to a
girl he didn’t recognize. He sat down
next to her, slumping in his chair.
“You’re new, aren’t you?” he whispered as the
teacher explained the syllabus. (Y/N)’s
head shifted to look at him out of the corner of her eye, shocked that someone
had spoken to her. She had been ignored
“Yeah,” she confirmed his suspicions. "How did you know?“
"This is a small town,” Jughead answered. "Everyone knows everyone.“
"Right,” she muttered, turning her focus back to
the teacher. Jughead, however, continued
to stare at the new girl.
“I’m Jughead,” he introduced himself. "Jughead Jones the third.“
"The third?” (Y/N) quietly laughed.
Jughead shrugged. "Yeah,“
he responded. A smile grew on his face. "It’s funny, though, because most people
laugh at my name being Jughead.”
“I think it’s cool,” she complimented. "I’m (Y/N).“
"Well, (Y/N),” Jughead said, “what’s
“Mr. Jones!” their teacher suddenly interrupted
their conversation. "Ms. (Y/L/N)!
Please, no talking while I’m speaking!“
Jughead and (Y/N) muttered ashamed apologies, and with a
satisfied nod, the teacher turned back to the board. Jughead shifted in his chair so that he was
slightly facing (Y/N).
"I was gonna ask what’s the best burger you’ve ever
eaten,” he explained quietly. "But
that’s a stupid question, because I’m gonna introduce you to a burger that’ll
put every other thing you’ve ever eaten to shame.“
“Definitely,” he smirked. "Have you ever been to Pop’s diner?“
The rain reduced to a drizzle as Jughead and (Y/N) walked
from school to Pop’s.
"You’re sure you don’t need an umbrella?” Jughead
asked for the hundredth time.
(Y/N) laughed, “For the last time, Jughead, I’m fine. I’m from Seattle; I can handle a bit of
Jughead’s umbrella offers died down after that, and the two
quickly arrived at Pop’s. They entered
the diner, Jughead leading her towards his favorite booth. He sent subtle waves
towards all the beaming waitresses who greeted him.
“Someone’s popular,” (Y/N) commented as she and
Jughead sat down across from each other.
“I come here quite often,” he shrugged.
A waitress approached the table and asked for their
orders. Immediately, before (Y/N) could
even open her mouth, Jughead ordered two cheeseburgers. About ten minutes later, the same waitress
carried out two baskets. She set one in
front of both Jughead and (Y/N). Jughead
watched as (Y/N) picked up her burger.
“Are you gonna eat yours?” she asked before she took her
Jughead shook his head.
“Not until I see your reaction,” he said, biting back a smirk. (Y/N) shrugged and nonchalantly took a
bite. As her tongue registered the
beautifully charred beef mixed with the freshly melted cheddar, topped with
refreshing tomatoes and lettuce, Jughead broke out into a grin.
“This is so good,” she moaned, taking more bites of her
“I told you,” Jughead laughed.
“We’re gonna come back here every day and get these, right?”
(Y/N) asked, between burger bites.
Jughead’s grin widened.
“Whenever you want.”
Riverdale was rainy for that entire week. On Thursday, their English teacher assigned
their first project of the year, splitting the class into pairs. As if answering both of their prayers, the
English teacher paired up (Y/N) and Jughead.
They decided to start the project that night, agreeing to meet at (Y/N)’s
“I’m sorry about all the boxes,” (Y/N) apologized as they
entered her bedroom. “I still haven’t
“It’s no problem at all,” Jughead waved it off. “My place is even messier, and I can’t make
up excuses about having just moved here.”
(Y/N) laughed and shook her head, sitting on her bed. Jughead chose to remain standing, scanning
(Y/N)’s room. He glanced at her pastel
blue walls, the simply-framed windows covered by pale white curtains. He walked in front of the window.
“I think you brought Seattle weather with you to
Riverdale,” Jughead commented, pulling (Y/N)’s wispy curtains aside to
look at the rainstorm outside her window. She rose from her bed and walked over to stand
next to him.
“Good,” she muttered. He turned to face her and raised his eyebrows.
“I like the rain.”
“So do I,” he agreed, “but this is
“No such thing.”
Even without the project, Jughead and (Y/N) frequently met
up. Whether it be the drive in, (Y/N)’s
house, or Pop’s, the two always tried to make time for each other.
A month after they met, Jughead decided to introduce (Y/N)
to his other two best friends: Archie and Betty.
It was drizzling on a Wednesday when they met in Pop’s, both
Archie and Betty immediately adoring (Y/N).
“You must be (Y/N),” Betty smiled, sticking out her hand to
shake. (Y/N) beamed as she happily shook
Betty’s hand. “I’m Betty Cooper.”
“And I’m Archie Andrews,” Archie greeted, choosing to simply
wave at (Y/N) rather than shake her hand.
“I’m (Y/N),” she introduced herself, laughing, “but it seems
that you already knew that.”
“Jughead talks about you a lot,” Betty giggled, causing
(Y/N) to smirk at Jughead.
“Oh really?” she inquired, and Jughead rolled his eyes.
“She’s never gonna let that go,” he complained to Betty and
Archie. “Thanks a lot.”
The four quickly fell into a casual conversation, (Y/N)
fitting into the friend group with ease.
It felt like she had always been with them in Riverdale. Archie and Betty noticed the obvious
chemistry between her and Jughead, and throughout the dreary evening, Archie
and Betty exchanged knowing glances as they observed (Y/N) and Jughead’s
interactions. Neither of them said
anything, but instead, they chose to just sit and watch Jughead and (Y/N)
slowly but surely fall in love.
After two more months, Betty and Archie grew frustrated with
the lack of progression in Jughead and (Y/N)’s relationship. Riverdale had grown too cold for it to rain
anymore, but the snow, in Jughead’s mind, still counted as rain. It was only frozen.
He hadn’t seen (Y/N) in a while outside of school, both of
them too busy. (Y/N) became buried under
her heavy academic burden, and Jughead grew immersed in his writing. They hadn’t grown apart, they just didn’t
grow any closer, much to Betty and Archie’s dismay.
A bitter and cold
February passed through Riverdale, and it was during that month that (Y/N)
finally met Kevin Keller. It had been
four months since Betty and (Y/N) had met, and the two of them grew very
close. Not as close as (Y/N) and
Jughead, but Betty was definitely (Y/N)’s go-to girl.
“You’re gonna love Kevin,” Betty assured her as they sat in
Betty’s pastel pink room.
“If you insist,” (Y/N) smiled. A light knock on the door caught their
attention, and they whipped their heads around to see Kevin entering Betty’s
“I finally have the privilege to meet the famous (Y/N)
(Y/L/N),” he grinned.
“Kevin Keller,” she laughed.
“It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“Likewise,” he said, sitting down next to her. “God, I’ve been dying to meet you ever since
Betty started talking about how cute you and Jughead were together.”
“Together?” she lightly scoffed, playfully rolling her
eyes. “Jughead and I are just friends.”
“And you like it that way?” Betty questioned with a smile
tugging at her lips.
(Y/N) hesitated for a split second. “Of course,” she answered.
“You hesitated,” Kevin immediately noted. (Y/N) released an exasperated sigh.
“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “I never really thought about it that way.”
“Well maybe you should start considering it,” Betty
suggested. “I’ve known Jughead for
years, and I’ve never seen him look at someone the way he looks at you.”
The rest of winter breezed through, and soon April showers
began to roll into Riverdale. It was the
rainiest spring they ever had, but it came to no shock to Jughead. He stood by his belief that (Y/N) brought the
Seattle rain with her.
With spring came more free time for (Y/N) and Jughead,
allowing them to begin to meet up more often.
Their relationship picked up where they had just left off, except with a
small alteration. Jughead couldn’t quite
pick up what had changed between the two of them, but (Y/N) knew exactly what
They sat in her bedroom again. It was a typical scene, but something was
different. The sun was out for what felt
like the first time since they met. Something
had shifted in their relationship, and neither (Y/N) nor Jughead knew how to
“The sun’s out,” Jughead gave his daily weather
report. (Y/N)’s eyes lazily flicked
towards her window, watching the beams of light float into her room.
“Yes,” she replied simply.
“I don’t think it’s been sunny since you’ve moved
here,” he joked, forcing out a laugh. (Y/N)’s fingers twiddled with the soft fabric
of her bed. Jughead sighed at her lack
of response. They sat in silence for a
couple minutes, Jughead continuing to stare out the window and (Y/N) fidgeting
on her bed. Finally, (Y/N) stood up and
crossed her arms over her chest as she ventured next to Jughead.
“It was very rude, you know,” she drawled, earning
a confused look from Jughead, “that you made me fall in love with you. Inconsiderate, really.”
A split second of silence passed as Jughead tried to collect
“Not what you had in mind?” He smirked.
(Y/N) shrugged. "Quite inconvenient, actually.“
"I’m not sorry,” he stated, stepping closer to
her. He tenderly placed a hand on her cheek.
“Me neither,” she whispered, her gaze focused on
Without any more hesitation, Jughead brought (Y/N)’s face
towards his and pressed his lips against hers, just a feather-light kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck in a
desperate attempt to deepen the kiss, like a flower craving the thirst-quenching rain.
“You know,” Jughead disconnected their lips,
“I lied about liking the rain.”
“Yeah,” he nodded,
smiling. "I just pretended to like
it for you. I actually hate the