#or get diseases or feel texture or-

[twotriickhoofbea2t]

It's basically a swimming pool but for people who can't taste or smell.

[radical-rapscallion]

M E A T

[wakkass]

💜Teenage Sofia💜

On the right is some hairstyle searches

AU itself

Sofia sleeps through her first lessons and cannot concentrate on her homework, which is why she makes mistakes.

For some reason, Sofia’s energy is becoming less and less; she cannot easily join the busy rhythm of life as in childhood.

She considered it an uneven start to the school year, and therefore didn't tell anyone about anything.

Despite this, Sofia tries very hard to work, but the problem is that she never begins to accomplish anything.

The amulet began to behave strangely: it loses color and turns gray. And most importantly, it doesn't work as it should, sometimes completely switching off and depriving Sofia of her powers.

This causes problems with her missions: she cannot respond to calls for help in time and cannot talk to her friends. It also reminds her of the helplessness she felt when she was stuck inside the amulet.

Sofia is caught between her old responsibilities and her new academic demands, causing her to fail at both.

This begins to put pressure on her, and as a result, Sofia's emotions become uncontrollable, for example, she may suddenly cry or get angry.

It got to the point where Sofia yelled at Miranda and ran away in a fit of rage, not understanding why she was even angry.

At first, Sofia believes that the amulet is to blame for her strange condition. Something happened to it and it needs to be fixed. This is a reason to turn to Cedric for help.

However, when examining the amulet, it turns out that it doesn't affect Sofia, but vice versa. That is, the amulet reacts to her burnout due to permanent stress.

Sofia doesn't know the nature of her condition and how to fix it. If this is a curse, then it must be removed, and if it's a disease, then it must be cured, and who else but the royal sorcerer will help with this.

The more Sofia describes the symptoms, the more Cedric realizes that this is not an infection or a curse, but something that he himself once went through - depression.

To avoid this, Cedric does what Sofia once did for him: shows care and attention.

He tries to repeat the same actions that Sofia did for him many years ago, because this is the only way to deal with depression that he knows.

This doesn't always help, since she could suddenly cry, and he didn't know what to do about it. But Sofia felt better from the very fact of understanding and caring for her. What's important is that she was able to let her feelings out.

Sofia asked Cedric for medicine and he took her to the throne room where her parents were sitting. A friend nearby can help in difficult times, but there is nothing more healing than family support.

Sofia was scared to talk to her mother, because they parted on an unpleasant note. Sofia was afraid of making this worse, because she reacted extremely unpredictably to things.

I see their dialogue as somewhat awkward at first, which is why Sofia has a lump in her throat. But Miranda is not angry with her, although it's difficult for her to ask about what is happening. I think this will put pressure on Sofia and she will utter her words of apology quickly and incoherently.

It was amazing how much easier it became for Sofia when she didn't face her mother's anger, but her mother's support. What's happening to Sofia is complicated, but she's still loved and understood. No one will ever leave her alone, no matter how much she changes.

The amulet remains gray until Sofia deals with the amount of work she has to do, causing her to burn out.

In the future, Amber helps Sofia with her schedule and organization of things during the day.

Appearance info

Hairstyle:

I knew that Sofia's hair texture needed to be soft and light, so I was looking for a simple and full hairstyle. I chose between a ponytail and a half-ponytail, and in the end I settled on the hairstyle that I could feel best.

I like how in animation the movement of the tail reflects the personality and mood of the character, this is ideal for a pubescent AU, where emotions and feelings burst out.

Meg and Thumbelina are not only a great visual reference for hair movement, but also reflect facets of personality that Sofia might have at her age. And the hair in a high ponytail emphasizes this perfectly.

Cloth:

Amber and Sofia's costumes are similar because they wear school uniforms. They study together in a specialized educational institution, so I think there is a certain dress code there. It's different from the public school setting that was in the original series, and I wanted to highlight that visually.

At the same time, the palette is different for everyone and reflects the individuality of each student.

I took inspiration from Pinterest where I was looking for simple yet elegant clothes. Asian uniforms have the most variety in silhouettes, so I mainly focused on them.

A small example of the cut I relied on

< Previous post

[tearwolfe]

a proper ref for starshine tsukasa!! i even made my handwriting into a font to make this way easier on myself. i like speculative biology, so this was a lot of fun to put together.

other information:

- because his true form exists at such a high temperature, he would be unable to revert on earth. sorry, rui wouldn't be able to see that thang.

- his wings are purely cosmetic, he can float without them. they have the same texture as his true form, just much cooler.

- his human form body temperature would roughly be around 110°F/43.3°C.

- his species does not have the ability to speak or produce noise, they communicate through telepathy. tsukasa, however, has found that he loves speaking out loud as a human, and will not shut up.

- his human body isn't perfect. he has most major organs, but they aren't all quite right. the only two things he's been actively improving are his vocal chords and taste buds.

- because he has spent his entire life in the empty expansive of space, he had a very difficult time touching the ground. it made him feel queasy and unsafe, which is why he typically floats. after time, he learns to sit and lay down with rui, but he still prefers floating to standing.

- in true form, his species is practically unkillable. they're very amorphous, and although solid, they can be squished and stretched very thin, and if a part of them is detatched, they can easily reattach or regrow it after time. the most prevalent ways to kill them are through disease or removing them from their environment before they get a chance to transform. they are much easier to kill in a different form on a planet.

- death is completely different from where he's from compared to on earth. he doesn't understand the impact of death, which explains some of the things that he does..

- in human form, tsukasa can feel almost all human sensations. his feeling of hunger is more alien.

- tsukasa was not aware that human emotions were so strong before deciding to go to earth. this is a good thing because that makes the negative emotions all the more tastier. however, that means his own human emotions in his human form are much stronger than he is used to. he doesn't know how to deal with this quite yet ... (he has found that crying is his best solution so far).

[autisticsupervillain]

Autistic Avatars not realizing that they're Avatars because they're just "like that": a thread

The Eye

Special Interest in the supernatural = constant food for The Watcher

You know about Interest? TELL ME EVERYTHING

"Hey man listen to me infodump about this horrifying ghost story I read for twenty minutes, alright?"

I need to Know everything about something before I partake in it.

"How did I Know that? Eh, I probably hyperfixated on it at some point."

I cannot be misunderstood so I'll beam the facts into your brain.

The Web

I must plan everything 200 steps in advance before doing anything.

I have prepared for all possible outcomes, I can now have this one conversation.

If I set up all these variables long in advance, then I can do everything correctly and Win the social interaction.

I cannot do anything before The Plan says to.

"I practice my social skills by talking to my spider friends." -Martin "Autism" Blackwood

The Stranger

I cannot socialize without being Uncanny.

If my socialization seems like an act, that's because it is. I practice it in the mirror every day.

Theater Kid

How do you Normal Human?

The Anatomy Class.

Assuming fellow Stranger Avatars also just have the 'Tism. They're not trying to be creepy, honest.

Can't do faces. Doesn't notice when you get replaced.

Being subtly off is too subtle for me.

The Lonely

"I have failed the social interaction. Let the fog reclaim me."

Talking to people is draining my batteries even faster than ever. I need to be alone for approximately 384,400,000 years.

Nothing can overstimulate me in the cool, blinding fog.

Nothing unpredictable can happen in the fog.

The fog is your friend.

The known connection between autism and depression feeds the fog.

The Dark

Why is the sun so god damn bright? I'm going to blow it up I swear.

Night Owl.

Everything's decently quite at night and people leave you alone.

Same overstimulation preventatives as the Lonely tbh. Dark and fog are good concealers.

The dawn is your enemy.

The dread florescent lights shall never bother me again. They break upon my arrival.

Can and will infodump to the monster under my bed. Even now it feels like it listens.

The Spiral

Autism makes getting other mental illnesses recognized hard.

Autism dissociation from body and mind. When did it become 3 AM and why do I hurt? Why am I grumpy? What vital self care task did I forget?

Literal mind doesn't often match reality. Reality is specifically unspecific.

Spaced out and wandered off. Where the fuck am I?

I'm not a mental baby, please stop treating me like it.

I'm not inherently dangerous, please stop treating me like it.

Memory problems my beloathed. Did that happen? I dunno.

What Is Time?

What Is Me?

The Gender

Why do things only make sense to me? What does no one else make sense?

The Flesh

Autism Genderfuckery = Flesh fueled dysphoria.

Meat is the only texture that's palatable. Especially the Mystery Meat.

Will never try any other foods. Too picky.

Infodumps about the horrors of meat processing at dinner and ruins the meal for everyone. More steak for me.

Hates PETA.

Double the arms means double the stim. You weren't using them, right?

Working out is a great stim.

The Corruption

Practices social interaction with the bugs who live in my walls.

"Insects are disgusting. I love them!"

Will protect endangered insects by any means necessary.

According to all known laws of aviation-

Relationship boundaries struggles.

Difficulty noticing sickness symptoms.

Is that nausea or am I overstimulated? *Accidentally causes supernatural plague outbreak*

Difficulty getting diseases diagnosed because of both Autism and noticing too many symptoms so the doctors assume they're faking.

Forgot vital hygiene needs.

The Bugs Are My Friends! They keep me company when I'm sick!

The Buried

Weighted blankets are insufficient, I need the Earth to reclaim me.

Avoid social interaction by tunneling everywhere like a mole.

101 facts about worms.

Forgor hygiene again. Time to become dirt.

Digging a hole is good stimming.

That guy who had to be buried alive to sleep properly. What do you mean you don't want to be buried?

The End

Aradia Megido from Homestuck.Com

That's it, that's the list.

The Desolation

The Autism Temper.

Losing relationships and friendships to ableism and your own disability constantly.

The Fire is a wonderful stim board. Watch it crinkle.

Just watching candles melt for hours.

The fire and thrill gives my life passion again.

Jude Perry.png

The Vast

Accidentally terrifying people by infodumping about the horrors of nature.

The stimulus of falling.

Nature/Space/Weather Documentary on in background always.

Okay, but from how high did you fall? I want to calculate your velocity as you fell through the void.

Weirdly enough... power scaling?

Power scaling is just the art of determining how easily your favorite characters can destroy mankind so... yeah, I can see it.

Brain empty, only terminal velocity.

The Hunt

Cat Autism

The inherent hyperfocus of the hunt. The chase. Your prey.

Studying the habits of your latest hyperfixation/Hunt assigned prey for days at a time.

I've spent so much time hunting in the woods that I forgot about human society. The Missing Person's Bureau have written you off for dead.

Returning to society to sell your wears and realizing you aren't human anymore.

That's okay. Social interaction is random. The Hunt makes sense.

It's black and white. Predator and prey. Humans hunting monsters. It Makes Sense.

The Slaughter

The incredible human WW1 documentary.

"Did you know?" *Describes horrible historic warcrime*

Takes apart puts back together guns from their collection.

The list of known casualties from this war is incomplete. With my help, they can expand it. :)

The Extinction

The world is spiraling towards its end and only you seem to care.

It hurts to be this passionate about a lost cause.

You Will Make Them Care.

[arctic-hands]

I'm am BEGGING you if you're chronically ill or disabled or always exhausted or mentally ill, PLEASE do all you can to brush your teeth every day. Switch to disposable sponge brushes if the texture of even soft toothbrushes are sensory hell. Ask someone to help you if you can't move your arms. Keep an ear out for free or visiting dental care if you can't get dental insurance. Do the bare minimum of brushing your teeth, even if you don't have the stamina to floss after or can't tolerate mouthwash. If you can't stick to a routine then brush your teeth as soon as you remember, no matter the time of day. Keep your toothbrush visible in your bathroom so you remember it's there as you wash your hands. Keep a pack of one-time disposable brushes by your bedside if you're too fatigued or depressed to leave your bed or room. Just find SOME WAY to keep your teeth intact.

Once you lose your adult teeth, that's it they're gone forever. I spent almost my entire life too apathetic or too tired to take proper and consistent care of my teeth, and not even counting my infected and impacted wisdom teeth, I've already had one regular tooth completely removed because it was excruciatingly infected and my meager dental coverage wouldn't cover a two THOUSAND dollar root canal, and now I've got a shattered tooth on the other side with crumbling remains that periodically get infected and I'm going to have to have what left of the roots extracted too. And because of my neurological condition and my intestinal diseases necessitating frequent MRIs/MREs, I can't get dental implants because they use metal screws. I'm only thirty-one and at this rate I'm looking at dentures before I'm fifty.

I know the future often seems bleak for people like us so sometimes it feels liberating to not care about the future or take care of ourselves to see it, but the future IS coming, you WILL find a way to stick around for it, and you ARE going to want your teeth as you make it that far and further.

[abnomi]

random assorted headcanons for Turbo because I like thinking and having fun !!!! 🎉

Read More to Find Out...or are you too scared?... i bet ur too scared ahaha youre too scared Lol! Hahaahaaa!!!

The steering wheel of his kart is covered in bite marks, similar to how one would bite their favorite pencil. he bites things to mark his territory because Nobody is gonna touch that unless they want all of his diseases (150+).

i just know he was fighting to restrain himself not to chew on any of the candy civilians

when it comes to music, he doesn't see the point of listening to it. he doesn't have enough patience to really take it in; to him, it's just a thing that exists and not much more than that ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ ∵⁠ )⁠_⁠/⁠¯

adding onto that point, this guy listens to metal clanking sounds and loud engine roaring for entertainment because he likes things that would overstimulate any normal person. turbo is incredibly sensory-seeking and will do anything for The Sensations

someone should take him to a heavy rock concert i think it would change him a little. keep that thang on a leash

related to being sensory-seeking, i think he would absolutely love running his hands over random textures. if anyone has run their hands along a wall while walking alongside it...He does that...If u know u know... he is SO stimmy its unbelievable. Unreal.

very pain-tolerant. he'll whine and complain about it for attention, but physical hurt really doesnt bother him much until it gets in the way of what he wants to do.

funnily enough, he is very picky when it comes to temperature. he can handle getting ran over but if its 1° too hot or cold he'll start nagging and nagging for it to go back to normal. turbo really needs his own enclosure i think it'd do him a lot of good

this is a more popular headcanon and its canon-leaning, but he's an artist :-] he usually sticks to graffiti art because its generally considered more "rebellious and cool" but he also sketches cars, design decals, and other stuff when hes alone!

i would love to see his process of character designing king candy because i dont think he really knew what he was doing

he was just like "ok what does a generic king look like. uhhhhh.... 1, old and jolly like santa claus.... 2.... uhh crown..... 3......... purple.... FUCK YEAH im so good at this!!!!🔥🔥🔥"

i just noticed how his design has like 0 actual candy motifs aside from his bow being a candy wrapper and his shoes having those little gumdrop end pieces. what was he THINKING

while King Candy has a lisp, i think it's a coverup for his actual voice because of how goofy and recognizable it is. Overall its the same as his regular voice, he just gets silly with it. i noticed that he still does retain some of his lisp when hes screaming his lungs out at Vanellope, however, so maybe he genuinely does have a lisp that makes itself known when furious :3

another thing i noticed is how he hisses his S's. very cool very cool the reptilian

@/tasticturbo made a post abt how he has tinnitus from the constant noise in his game and i couldnt agree more

AND THE PRESCRIPTION GLASSES. where did he get those...he needs to See

side note, the aforementioned account has made so many interesting analyses on turbo and theyre all so insightful. i recommend u check them out

i think he gets migraines from stress. constant buzzing or pain flood his head but hes like "IDGAF i need to DO something at ALL TIMES no matter what"

hes like a shark in that way. if hes not moving he'll die instantly. idk a lot about sharks or if thats how it works srry but im going off of what the Worms are saying to me and i dont have much to work with

i think a really big contributer as to why he lacks in the self care department is because he fails to notice that something in his body is wrong. hes far too distracted on something he thinks is more important than remembering to Eat Food or Drink Water or Wash Himself or

he's like "WHY DO I FEEL LIKE SHIT ALL OF THE TIME!!! I HATE MY LIFE" and he hasn't slept in 4 days

hes so me. Sorry.

i dont think turbo is necessarily suicidal, but the way he behaves shows a clear disregard for his own safety and wellbeing. he thinks that he knows what he needs but he really doesnt :-[ i think he has some kind of immortality complex, feeling untouchable and like nothing could get to him. as scared as he was when ralph was about to turn him into sloppy mush, he didnt take the threat very seriously. like it was some kind of joke

his kart regenerates every time his game starts up, so what if he smashed it into buildings for fun. He's the number one fan of car accidents. he is all about that shit

i think his living space would literally be a garage btw. its a place to sleep and a space for his car all in one!! he thinks its very convenient and awesome but i think he is coping. he has some old dingy stained sheetless mattress that he has never washed in his life and its covered in dirt and smoke particles. no wonder he has such heavy eye bags Dude Please

the turbo twins have a garage used in a similar way, and while its still pretty shitty, they still at least TRY to maintain it. they just fight a lot over who has to care of it. nobody taught them how to take turns ever

but this aint about them. maybe another day

i think that turbo would find comfort in garbage and keeping it around because its familiar to him. a big clean empty space would make him so mad and if anyone moves even an inch of scrap off to the side he will throw a fit. he generally doesnt pay attention to his surroundings but when its his personal space he is 1093 times more neurotic

i think the big empty castle he stole wouldve been a big transition for him. maybe it helped him clear his mind a little more to practice his tricky schemes...it helped him get more subtle

thats all i have for nowww ty for reading ^_^ if anyone else has any wacky ideas pleeeease tell me i would love to hear them!!

[letsatomicbanana]

Have any headcanons about my boy Ink sans??

Oh boy, i sure do!

It's yapping time!!! but it's bellow the 'read more'

(spoilers: It's long as hell)

-First of all, Ink can not stand normal texturized clothing and textures (like cotton, fur, silk etc...) which is the reason to why their clothes are always created by him and is used a more paint-like 'esque' to it. (which is canon).

- Case in point, he suffers from 'unable to have normal fashion tastes' disease. He's the type of motherfucker to wear baggy pants under a dress, sandles with socks on, a crop top over a long sleeved shirt etc... They does not care nor follows society's fashion sense/brands, he only gives a damn if the clothes are comfortable or not lmao.

- Genderqueer, no explanation for that one (c'mon, just look at them) also AroAce but that's already canon.

- He definetly has a whole collection of autographs of random sanses that he managed to get. (The obvious one is fell sans but he prob forgot to who the other's belongs to).

- Besides from being able to speak french, they can also speak fluent mandarin and japanese!

- Has a whole collection of random objects he found while travelling AU's. It's not anything particulary useful or collectible (like toys etc..) more so 'things he found interesting' (like that one chesse from the ruins)

- Since he has a canon hyperfixation on Underfell, i like to image that he defends the AU with his whole tiny body, empty mind and non-existent soul (he can't STAND uf slander, it makes his blood boil lmao). Also, they treats fell sans like you would treat your favourite fictional babygirl male character as.

- Definetly engaged in the consumption of illicit drugs at some point in his life, you cannot tell me that this curious asshole never had any interest in drugs, even if it's just recreational consumption. Very open to any options, but they has a thing for marijuana, alcohol, and nicotine (it makes him ADHD go bonkers).

- Now that i've mentioned it. He has ADHD-C (combined type), probably got diagnosed because he saw a random 'Does your child have ADHD' pamphlets hanging around in the wall of some random AU they visited, which made him to be deeply curious (he thought they didn't had it) and eventually diagnosed with it. Note! He's currently unmedicated (i think he would have a problematic history with medications, if i'm going to be honest). (him having adhd is kindaaaa canon??? semi-canon at least)

- Also has undiagnosed Autism and ASPD (sociopathy) in which he has no idea that he has lmao (i made a whole post about this too). Note but i'm killing anyone who says that Ink is evil due to being 'sociopatic'.

- Doesn't engaje in social gatherings of any kind unless extremly necessary, he's energetic but an introvert at heart (this is canon btw).

- Has a better conection to inanimate objects than people, oh! and he's also Objectum!

- They're an ISTP! Which stands for 'Introvert', 'Observant', 'Thinking' and 'Prospective'.

- A lot of times deeply wonders to his apparent lack of family and AU, he won't admit but he's feels a sense of envy for other sanses that have brothers. They also often wanders through the vast multiverse looking for his original family/AU, but he can never find it :(

- Extremly sensitivite to any topics of discussion/conversation that relates to his soullessness, he also cannot stand being called 'emotionless' or a 'tragedy' because of his condition. Has a tendency in de'humanizing' himself over his lack of soul.

- Since he has a very hard time understanding social interaction, they often uses their interest in art as a way to form attachments with people, like painting them outfits or portraits (insert the 'Im bad at people, but i am good at tech' entrapta quote). Art is his special interest!

- He's a very dedicated brony and their favourite pony is Derpy Hooves/ Ditzy Doo!! She's literally him, for real! If he was part of the fandom at it's peak popularity in 2012-2014, they would prob be those famous fandom artist/musicians!

- Reast in piece Ink sans you would've loved Dungeons and Dragons. (/ref)

- Besides from their obvious interest in drawing/painting, he also has a deep interest in music! He canonically can play the flute but he also enjoys playing the trumpet, the piccolo and the clarinet!

- They're generally extremly under-responsive or otherwise sensory seeking to any kind of sensory stimuli. He's also a very oral artistic and often chew/bites on stuff for stimulation. Can often fall into Nonsuicidal self-injury style of stimming such as picking or pulling,when overwhelmed/underwhelmed.

- Another headcanon that he has PICA, where he often eats/craves for things that are not food, like crayons (canon).

[autistic-clownfish]

What is autism like to me?

autism is who I am. I cannot separate myself from it. So no matter how much I wish I didn’t have it, I can never imagine what that would be like.

Autism is the pain I feel when I try to work and melt down and need to go home after a few hours.

Autism is the joy I feel when I watch clownfish swimming.

Autism is the sadness I feel when I know I’ll never be independent.

Autism is the excitement I feel when my replica Andúril arrived.

Autism is the overwhelming need to rip off my skin and bite and tear and claw and hit because the world is too much, too loud, too painful.

Autism is the childlike awe I felt as I went scuba diving in the Great Barrier Reef and saw my favourite fish.

Autism is wanting to hit myself because I can’t follow a recipe.

Autism is being funny without trying.

Autism is almost throwing up because of a bad texture.

Autism is snuggling my face in a good texture.

Autism is getting lost in my own town and frightened I’ll get hit by a car because there’s no green man to wait for.

Autism is the security of a weighted blanket and a caregiver tucking me into bed.

Autism is not good, autism is not evil: autism is autism is autism is me.

I’m not a puzzle that needs to be solved, or a different way of thinking, or a special super power, or a hideous disease.

I am just me, and sometimes that sucks.

I am me, and I have a disability.

And that’s okay.

[fxshigurosbae]

THE OBSESSIVE MAN . . .

he won’t ever let you go, ever.

⋆.ೃ࿔* gojo satoru (27) x f!reader (21)

✶ mature content (minors do not interact) — yandere!gojo, choking, roughness, manhandling, pet names, dacryphilia, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, creampie, marking, biting, desperation, unprotected sex, strong language.

NOTE. woah wasn’t expecting to post this right after reaching 2k followers! thank you so much! i can’t express my gratitude in words, i will be working hard to post great content so please continue to support me! expect another special shot, take this one as a pre-celebration (づ ᴗ _ᴗ)づ♡

taglist | masterlist

gojo satoru always treated you well, he’s never done anything to harm you, never said anything either. gojo satoru, your boyfriend for almost a year, was always so clearly in love with you ever since ever, head over heels, completely following you wherever you went until you finally gave in to your mutual feelings. all that he wishes is to see you happy and with a bright smile on your pretty face, he never wishes to see you cry or hurt, and so he always took care of you, always paid for you, always pampered you, always. he would do anything in the world for you, he would spend all of his money for you, he would move anywhere in the world for you, he would fight anyone for you, he would hurt himself for you, he would ki… keep any danger away from you, in whichever way he could, it did not matter what, as long as you were with him happy.

and fuck, gojo satoru truly does… love you, a little too much.

he’s like a chicken pox scar, the disease hurts so much and itches, it gets all over your body, excessively. even though it goes away some time, even though it heals, and texture fades away afterwards, it will always be there, if you don’t know how to get rid of it.

and fuck, how he loves to watch you. the idea of self-control, to him, is something that he fights every day, all 24 hours of the day. he never dared touch a single inch of your skin if you never assured him it was alright. you never thought he’d be fisting his cock in the middle of the night for hours on end just at the thought of seeing the smallest piece of lace of your bra as you leaned forward on the table to eat, or something like that. gojo satoru even though he is almost a thirty-year old man, he never dared to fuck you senseless unless you told him he could, and how he wishes he could.

to think his wishes would come true so suddenly, after dating for so long.

feeling like he was on cloud nine, as if his head was sunk into a bowl of hot water because of his burning cheeks and heating head, as if he could easily faint from the view of your naked body underneath him as his cock played around with your wet folds, and you just laid there, with hands and arms thrown over and above your head, looking pretty and with legs wrapped around his kneeling body struggling to breath in bed. you’d never think his cheeks could become such a burgundy color, how his sea-eyes could look so innocently lewd and with both a glow and malice, both need and dominance, he was ambiguous and the contrast of his usual teasing behavior mixed with the stray-puppy eyes that he wore right then.

the grip onto the skin of what was chubby on your hips began to tighten and imprint bruises on the spot, drawing his fingers onto it, as he tried whatever he could to bring you closer, to swallow you up, like he had thought several times. his throat itches and burns from the gasps and puffs of air that seem to overlap on his lungs, he is desperate and needy, as if he had smoked a pack of cigarettes in such short amount of time.

“i’m gonna put it in, sweetheart, can i do that?” he asked almost as if begging, with struggle, lowly huffing and sloppily moving his cock, about to burst cum into your slightly-sweaty belly already.

“be gentle with me, please, ‘toru.” even if you weren’t a virgin, it’s been a while, and you didn’t know what your boyfriend was like in bed, not exactly, only by rumors, the ones that said he was a man-whore, but that was the past, he’s been obsessed with you all this time now. the mistake you made was to say such thing to him, the fact that you were so sweet and precious made his heart flutter ten times faster, almost as if you just shot a bullet that buried a hole in it. he fell in love three times harder, if it was possible. and gojo satoru, he did not waste any second. but the moment he thrusted into you for the first time, it was so languid and abrupt that he came inside your pussy shamelessly, and all the way in, whispering thousands of fucks, grunts and sorries. however, that didn’t stop him from going on and fucking you, he was holding onto your hips, leaning so close to your torso that both could mutually feel each other’s heartbeats, and his was incredibly faster than yours. the man immediately regained his strength once he’s heard a soft whine come out of your lips, that was enough to send shivers down his spine, blushing ears and neck, he was drunkenly in love with you.

“uhh, fuck, fuck, my angel, ‘m so sorry, gonna make ya feel good, so good, i promise, promise.” gojo blurted out in a state of despair, sniffing your arousing scent as he buried his head into the crook of your comforting neck. your arms wrapped around his broad shoulder and muscular back, rutting his cock inside your tight wet cum-full cunt that clenched around him each and every time. there was just something about all of you that made him insatiable and crazy, he was getting more and more insane for you. he’s fucking the cum he spurted all the way inside your cervix, he’s kissing and bruising it like no tomorrow with the fat tip of his cock, and you love it more than anything in the world, forgetting that you even asked him to be gentle, because he was being the complete opposite, and you loved it.

licking the sweat from your neck, gojo satoru could not resist but also take a bite on your alive flesh, and you moaned in both pain and pleasure, hugging him tighter with your pussy, arms and legs. he could hear you mewl and whine all day long, he could fuck your pussy until the hole stretched just right for him all day long, all year long. your neck is attacked with bites leaving marks of all types, soft pecky ones, small, large, licked ones, bruising ones. if it wasn’t enough for the man to mark his seed into you, he had to show in your skin what he could and would do to you when no one was looking, and to know he’s the only one to observe the pornographic expression and sounds you left, that was the peak for him, and it made his brain pulse and blood boil possibly to the point of evaporation.

“y-ya love me, y/n? you do, right?” he moaned, sinking his hands beside your face on the sheets to stabilize his shivering, and to stare better down at your contorted body, still holding onto him, scratching his skin. for an instant, his hips weren’t fucking non-sense into you, not halting, but with an air that made your heart sink down to your stomach. then in a second, gojo satoru pounded deep in, pulling almost out with lowest speed possible, taking time in between to admire you take a breath in to prepare for his next attack. the next thrust that was abrupt, rough, frazzled and onslaught. silencing you before you could even answer him, and even though he saw your devastated state, he saw you holding onto his own moving hips, eyes threatening to close shut, mouth overlapping with cut-off moans, he wanted you to answer, immediately. your blood flow slowed down, as soon as you opened your eyes, and then notice him staring down at you with eyes of lunacy and passion, fuck, it drove you closely to his level of insanity as he wrapped his hand around your neck, and choked. you couldn’t tell if you loved it or feared it, that feeling of your heart sinking into a void, he kept rutting into you over and over again, his cock overstimulated, your clit aching, your nipples burning, your pussy pulsing and letting gushing sounds echo around the place while you jolted at every move. “you love me, right, baby?” he moaned vulnerably, cursing under his breath. “you won’t ever fucking leave me right? i k-know you won’t, cause, cause i love you so much, ugh, fuck, i love you, love you, love you, love you, love you…” his hand covering your entire neck and pressing both the places that restrained your blood and air flow, your head nearly exploding, and all you could do, other than grip onto his suffocating wrist, was open your mouth and cough a whine that called his name so sharply, with so much fear and desire. his eyes brightened in a split second, as if he’d woken up from a trance, and immediately let go off your reddened neck, letting you cough once and get caught with a whine stuck on your throat. gojo satoru still going, and forcefully making his path all the way inside every spot of yours, rubbing your neglected clit, longing for a response, his eyes wouldn’t blink or move a single centimeter away from your beautiful face, and it made you just yell more for him.

“ohh, love it, ‘toru! i love you s’much toru! fuck, fuck!” pulling and pushing your legs wide open, pressing them beside you, as he thrusted, with jolting body twice more, he stretched you like the spine of a new book. gojo satoru as much as he wanted to cum again inside you, he knew things that made him wait for it a little longer, his self-control was high enough to make him wait for you. it made it harder for him once he saw tears come out of your eyes, and he truly accepted that something was wrong with him for wishing to fuck you harder, since he was the one to make you cry these tears of overwhelm.

“want you to cum for me, let me see you cum, okay? hm, fuck, you’re so fucking beautiful.” he begged, filling you with compliments and more cock. biting the sides of your breasts and sucking them and your neck too, holding your hands, instead of legs, putting them beside your head. all of that as he also bruised your lips with breathtaking kisses, his tongue moved in all angles and reached all spots, as well as his cock. he moved fast and was quick-witted to adjust easily, he was absurdly overtaking every puff of air and bit of energy from you. you thought you’d faint, but in reality, no thoughts could come and go into your mind, you were too busy feeling how good he treated you.

“s-slow-do-wn, ‘toru.” you asked in between kisses, whenever possible, muffling even your own words as his lips and tongue licked every space in your mouth. he couldn’t stop, he would not stop. moaning into him, as soon as that special spot’s been reached and bullied several times in just a few seconds, eyes rolling to the top of your head when something devastating led your back to arch more, toes curl and body shudder, you were dazed and disoriented, head exploding. noticing that not only were you coming, but gojo let himself do the same, together —because he know it’d create an unbreakable bond— and he’s again, emptying his entire load of cum into your cunt that’s numb and squirting all you could. he is balls deep, kissing your cervix, letting it receive his semen, his cock still shortly fucking it into you. and he had his lips onto yours, pulling away for an inch, a ghost gasp leaving him as you try to catch your breath. your nails are digging crevices into his back.

“you’re fucking mine, for all eternity, you know i’ll never leave you, right? i’ll fill you to the brim with love, ‘kay, my dear angel?

🔖 @reiners-milkbiddies @yourfavouritepineapple @angiefucks @lilithlunas @nchuuyahq @poesexual @sacvh @youseebbiggirl @xdxdyg @missyasma

[strxnged]

TIGHNARI: # the roots of ambition.

CHAPTER I. In which you meet the Forest Ranger of legend, a former student of your Darshan, who causes you to interrogate your life choices.

Word count. 2.4k. Genre. Found family, gn!reader.

Table of Contents. / Next chapter.

By your age, Eleazar should have affected more than the tips of your fingers. The cureless, Withering-born disease crept from the farthest limbs towards the organs and mind at a gradual but unstoppable pace. Only with the frequent treatment from Nilotpala Lotuses and immersion in the rainforest could your body find the strength to delay the progression of ash scales and numbness across your body. Still, as you knelt at the foot of trees with your hand wrist deep in miniscule roots and a magnifying glass grasped carefully by the other hand, you wished vainly that you might be able to feel the bumps of the fractaling extensions with more sensitive appendages than your own.

You were focused on as much of the texture as you could gather with your palm and knuckle, leading you to ignore, at first, the rustle in the leaves around you of much more than a squirrel or bird. You were faintly aware and had been reminded by peers many times that with the way you became mesmerized by whatever microorganism you found yourself immersed in the “mind” of. However well-meaning the scares they would pull on you to snap you out of it, staying aware of your surroundings really wasn’t a lesson you had yet learned.

A clear voice, however, was enough to rouse you from your trance: “Pardon our interruption.”

You took in a breath—the first you had taken for awhile, you realized—and then stood, turning around.

Three Forest Rangers had gathered a few feet behind you. On the left, a shorter girl tilted her head at you, purple eyes shyly gazing out from beneath green bangs. She had one hand clinging to the sleeve of the middle figure and the other to the corner of her own shawl. To the right of the middle figure, another Forest Ranger leaned against a tree with his arms crossed, looking vaguely interested in you and your circumstances. He also looked like he’d had enough time standing there to make himself comfortable. In between the two was the presumed speaker. He wore a colourful adventuring outfit with a distinguished sash and puffy striped pants. Above lime-streaked dark hair, two fennec ears were erect, alert. Something about this person felt familiar.

“Apologies,” you said, “I didn’t notice you three at all.”

“You’re in a very dangerous area,” the middle one continued. “Not having noticed us is an augurous sign for your safety, so we’d be happy to escort you to somewhere safer if you are willing. Especially since you don’t appear to have a Vision.”

You made no movement to leave. “I have to stay here. It’s for my research.” 

He smiled gently. “My name is Tighnari. You may know me as a fellow Amurta scholar, however tainted my reputation and relationship with the Akademiya may be.”

You told him your name.

“It’s lovely to meet a scholar who loves to get dirt under their fingernails like myself,” he said. “But I’m sorry, it’s just too unsafe for you to hang around here. We’re here to start clearing the nearby Withering Zone.”

The relaxed Forest Ranger stood up straight and interjected, “Gener— Er, Forest Watcher Tighnari, I think it’s about to clear us out first.”

 Sure enough, several scorched animated fungi were emerging from the trees a few yards behind you. You quickly knelt at the roots you had been inspecting a minute before and took a rushed but measured sample of soil, sealing it in a jar of water. You set the jar in your bag, threw the bag’s strap over your shoulder, and ran.

A braver, more well-rounded researcher might be able to pull out a shortsword or a bow in this situation, as the Forest Rangers were doing, but you were not the type of person who could dabble in a lot of skills. Running came more naturally, and either way you would need to abandon the site. Climbing trees, too, was a handy skill, though both of these you were bound to lose in a few years.

That was why you had to hurry.

Dashing past the many trees and up a slight incline, you kept an eye out for a climbable tree. Just a few good, strong lower limbs, and you’d been out of monster’s reach in no time. There one was—you leapt—you reached—you pulled—and slumped your body against the trunk, legs on either side of a limb. 

Finally, you peered back the way you came to see if you’d been followed, or if your friendly hecklers had slain every enemy. You noted with a sigh of relief that all seemed serene for a second. That was, until a Dendro-variant fungi flapped its fleshy wings up the hill towards your hiding spot. You began plotting your next escape.

A flurry of green darts surrounded the fungi and enshrouded it in glowing mist. Discombobulated, it made a clean “bonk” sound as it hit a tree not far from you. The darts hit the monster then, striking it repeatedly until it stirred no more. You observed the forest watching for the next threat that would be destroyed by thin air, or perhaps for your hero.

“Let’s try this again,” Tighnari’s voice said—but this time from very, very close by. You whirled your head to see him smiling a little smugly from a limb above you. How had he— “Your research—does it really compel you to put yourself in such a precarious situation?”

Your mouth gaped at him.

“From how quickly you run and climb, I expect that is the case,” he added.

“The forest is dangerous,” you deflected. “It’s not hard to wind up in that sort of situation, with Withering Zones popping up everywhere.”

“I’ll grant you that,” he said. “Your methods could use some guidance, though.” At the raise of your eyebrows, he added, “I’m sure it isn’t your fault. The Amurta professors aren’t what they used to be. What you need is someone to guide you in the field. Someone to tell you to wear gloves when collecting fungal mycelium samples. The oil from your hands is enough to taint your samples beyond recognition. If you’d like, I can lend you some.”

The last thing you would want to do would be to wear gloves and fully barrier your fingers from any remaining sensation, so you ignored this, and eyed him up and down. “You’re really Tighnari, huh?”

“Well, I think so. Unless I’ve consumed a very, very psychoactive mushroom recently.”

You slowly got to your feet, balancing on the limb with a hand to steady you rested on the trunk. Tighnari, sitting casually on the next limb, was at about eye-level, so you could peer into his hazel-green gaze.

“Then, you were a former student of Sage Naphis. Is that so?”

“Yes,” he confirmed, “upon my graduation, he encouraged me to join the faculty. I’d had quite enough of the Akademiya by then, so I politely declined.”

“That seems about right. He thinks the Forest Rangers are in good hands.”

Tighnari looked incredulous. “That’s all?” 

“No,” you admitted. “Actually, he gets somewhat sulky when he brings you up. ‘An unfortunate loss,’ he says. He likes to tell students to beware the persuasion of the forest-dwellers.”

He laughed. “Will you heed his warning?”

Before you could reply, you heard a girl’s voice. “Master, we eliminated the last of them!”

“Thank you, Collei,” Tighnari dropped from the tree, landing eight or so feet below you with ease and addressing the green-haired archer from before. “Let’s set up camp, then, the sun’s threatening to disappear. To the river!”

“To the river!” The third Ranger echoed. As he and Collei proceeded, Tighnari hung back, peering up the tree at you.

“If you’re anything like me, Y/N,” he said, “field research has a way of making you forget the meaning of hunger. Let us take care of you for the night.”

You humphed. “No, you’ve taken quite enough care, thank you. I must heed the warning indeed, and I’m hardly hungry.”

Your stomach, in defiance, growled loudly.

Tighnari smirked, waiting patiently. You climbed out of the tree.

|

⸙

|

“You can’t force me to stay here with you guys until the night is through. Unless you want to help me filter my sample.” 

“We could if we had put something in your stew,” Tighnari joked. At your sour look, he apologized, “Sorry. You were asking for it.”

“I’m confident the General Watchleader would be more than eager to look at mushrooms with you all night,” the third Ranger, whose name you had learned to be Amir, said. “He’s a little strange in that way.”

“Come now,” Tighnari said. “I was getting to that. How many times do I have to ask you to please not call me that, especially in front of strangers?”

“Strangers!” you cut in. “Surely you three are not still wary of me.”

Amir raised an eyebrow at you. “You are certainly strange. Maybe in the way Tighnari can appreciate, though I’m far removed from the whole mushrooms scene.”

“Are you?” you queried.

“I much prefer the study of medicinal herbs.”

“Oh, that’s not so independent of fungal ecology.”

“Maybe not,” Amir conceded, “But fungi are just so complex. There’s no one way to define them, so where do you even start?”

“As I was saying,” Tighnari said. “There’s a great many things I still wish to understand about fungal mycelium, and it would be my utter pleasure to work with you in your research.”

“I—I didn’t ask for help with my research as a whole. Just the sample would be more than enough help.”

“Do you think you would like more help?”

You pondered this. “I… I am limited in my capabilities. I don’t make the best project partner. I like to… work at my own pace, which tends to fluctuate.” You bit back any words that might directly indicate the seriousness of your condition. The actuality of your terminal disease. People acted—differently—once they found out about the Eleazar. You liked the thought of these new, adventurous friends, especially while they didn’t know about your prognosis.

Tighnari sucked air through his teeth. “That damn Akademiya. Shame on them.”

“Sorry?” you said.

“I just—” he shook his head, disappointed “—can’t get past the way they treat students. Not half a thought for real, field safety, and a hell of a lot of energy put into murdering the autonomy of passionate learning. It’s rare that I meet a student these days who has any self-respect left at all. Do you sleep at night, Y/N?”

Your eyes widened. No, you didn’t, but you weren’t about to say so.

“My apologies,” he said. “You’re trying to dissuade me—but it isn’t your fault. What I mean to say is that you would benefit from stepping a little further away from those sage pricks—forgive my language—and accordingly stepping deeper into the roots of your studies.” 

“I do study roots.”

Tighnari scoffed. “Oh, my. Cyno would like this one.”

Collei, who had up until now watched the conversation with silent, interested eyes, let out a giggle. Tighnari beamed at her tenderly, and you sensed that she was a little more family than apprentice to him.

“Cyno?” you asked after a moment. “You mean, the General Mahamatra?”

“Cyno tells the most awful jokes,” Collei explained excitedly. “He especially likes puns. Ooh, they’re so terrible!”

Tighnari’s tone was dripping with sarcasm as he said, “Yes, and those closest to him earn the pleasure of his attempts to lighten the mood.” He smiled more sincerely. “He’s a dear friend to me, and a valiant protector of the law. He’s also the reason Collei came to be a part of our team.”

Collei’s expression returned neutral.

“She’s a complicated Eleazar case. We can only take care of her as much as she lets us,” Tighnari explained. “But she’s found a home here in the forest. Gandharva Ville wouldn’t be the same without her.”

You nodded, trying to keep your face detached. You felt the implication of the words—the unbearable, inevitable future of when Gandharva Ville would forever be transformed by their loss. 

You hadn’t met many other cases in your years. Those who you knew with the disease were either miserable or hiding their misery with saccharine charades. You felt all the empathy in the world for them—but you couldn’t stand their haunting company. A part of you expected that that was how others felt about you, but it was no matter when the majority of your company were emotionless and eternally mysterious microorganisms. 

“As you may or may not know, Eleazar symptoms can be better managed in the forest. Nilotpala Lotuses, a useful treatment for the skin conditions that develop, are also far more accessible away from the city.”

“I’ve heard something of the like,” you replied. ”I wonder why the disease behaves differently.”

“If there’s one thing I hope they’ve taught you,” Tighnari said, “it’s that context matters greatly for all types of ecology and health.”

You agreed.

“And for learning, as well.”

You supposed so.

.”Don’t you think you might learn more—learn better—living safely immersed in the subject matter?”

Didn’t you think so, lying sleepless beneath the stars later that night next to the three of them? Didn’t you think so with the timer in the back of your mind counting down the remaining moments of your life? Didn’t you think so, hearing the ground move beneath your head—so much more alive than you could ever dream to be?

In the night, the loud silence of a million living things was sliced through by one human’s cries. Collei, suffering night terrors associated with clear physical pain, woke Tighnari and Amir from their quiet slumbers. You lay frozen, listening alertly, as Tighnari talked her back to sleep with descriptive details of flowers in the area, of birds soon to beckon dawn, of histories encoded in botany and zoology. Collei had calmed down and nodded off again, but the General Watchleader kept on until you could not hear him any longer. Your thoughts animated and blurred together, and you were lost in green dreams of life.

In the morning, you told Tighnari that you did, indeed, think so.

Table of Contents. / Next chapter.

[loopscereal]

Pero no lo hicisteee final 100 hrs have been entered

fred by himself cause i did his shoes with everythign and the little meat texture. Why would i do that if its not mesnt to be visible? May god know cause i dont. uhh the background. yeah ok. uh Fred doesn't have to reflect Freddy in clothes or hairstyle anymore! Boys uniform! Higher, tighter pony tail! also their little jacket. Make up around their eyes, and they have gained acess to COLOR. Hes no longer restricted to shades of purple, too bad hes emo and will only branch out to red TOT. anyway yay for them. uhh uhhh also he has a new sparkle. he has a little yellowy orange sparkle in his chest, right on their tie. they didnt have that before :) new sparkle

im glad were all miserable about how fred is on the floor but also agree that freddy looks best when hes at his worse! keep up that look, youre a natural !! bbbbuhhhh

SUELTENME SUELTENME SUELTENME SUELTENME SUELTANME ok normal, hi pia :3 glad you noticed. im so diseased about when they swap colors in canon.... wughgh misery...

not so fast! theyre both so fucking bad at this game! the game being existing. Fred feeds the body and like. the most basic of maintenance but they too mistreat it in their own special way <3. ANyways how does this scene change? uh. god. i feel like it adds a lot ofc content but i dont. know. thinking about camp makes my head scream... as i imagine it mutates and changed even after having drawn these. living organism....

in my head their body "prioritizes" freddy a lot, like. IF fred is in control while freddy is sleeping, and freddy wakes up, it sorta auto-kicks fred out if they arent prepared and get caught off guard, BUT freddy isnt exctly. too present. hes not the most anchored person to his own self so if fred, can simply push him out pretty easy so long as they arent abnormally weakened, and if they were to fight for it fred will typically win. As for body auto responses, i think it does eventually kick the current pilot out, or mess things up and force them both in or both out, ("how does that work" sh sh sh dont even worry about it... <3 please.) buuuut i think it takes a long time for the body to get to that point, to the point where it does those auto responseds. Freddys gotten it pretty used to well, itself. it doesn't send out the signals that it should, or at best, not as strongly.

Okay why is Freddy all glitchy when out side and not sparkly? beeecause well. cromatic aberation occurs when a lense fails to align and focus wavelengths of color all on the same point. What the hell does that have to do with freddy? (what the hell happens int hat goddamn highschool?) uh! hes totally unfocused. in his entire self. and in his worldview, his view of strangers, of his friends, family. exc. Hes got like at least three different "lenses" he can view himself in, and at least two "good or bad" lenses he can see any given person through. IF anything is certain about him, its his instability. In idenity, in stances, in views, in beleifs, in emotions, in everything. An so, he gets the aberation efffect, cause he is !!! pulling!! apart! no focus, no stability , no alignment, no trust, no brother, no one to rely on, no money, no goals, no self esteem, no style, no shoes, no affirmation, no bitchessssssss also i have freddy at like 18 opacity (and the cromatic aberation layers are also at 1* so lets charitibly say hes at 50 total) and Fred is at like 80/85/90 on any given drawing of these, because freddy literally has less soul. uh. magic stystem or whatever freddy was emoty enough in the cup that holds his soul that he could fit a shadow, who turned into a whole ass person instead of some litttle creature...... fucked up. empty ass. anywho. enough of that miserable prick. freds got glow and sparkles cause hes got a lot of soul, hes got a lot in him, and would shine under any circumstance. stand out in some way bc hes just. like that. he is absolutly bursting at the seams with STUFF that is just not being let out. Hes curious. they wanna learn andexplre and live so fucking badly, the want to live and exist on their own terms and its so much passion and drive and will to live all bottled in this little being unable to be expresseddddd. one of these is more positive than the otherrrrr im sure theres sone negative side i missed on fred and a positive side to freddy that i missed but uh. its. 12am as i am writing and scheduling this so.....

if i had a dollar for every time i thought abt fnafhs id have 1 dollar bc i have not fucking stopped.

[colonelpancakes]

Watching The Dragon Prince Season Six Part Six! Moment of Truth. Under the cut as per the usual! This episode will reveal my habit of using more pet names for characters the more distressed I become!

I’d just like to say that every time the intro plays, I experience a few seconds of intense fear as I wait to see if it’s Callum again. They've done it twice now I am fully expecting them to do it again.

Oh dang, that is a beautiful opening shot of the sunrise. Absolutely stunning.

Ohh, Callum honey. I know the feeling, it sucks.

Aww, Raylaaaa. I love her trying to cheer Callum up with the crown, it's so sweet…

Ohh... poor Callum... Yeah, that would be a blow to anyone’s self esteem. Especially when we know from The Frozen Ship that Callum's been struggling with the idea that he had already permanently ruined himself by using dark magic.

(Also again, the voice acting is amazing.)

Oh, you know, that’s a good idea! Since they don’t really need to kill Aaravos they just need to stop him from being freed and the main threats to his status as imprisoned are Claudia finding the pearl or Callum getting possessed. If it’s in the Starscraper being guarded by Celestial Elves, then that’s both problems solved! Claudia doesn’t know where it is and it’d be pretty difficult for a possessed Callum to go get it, especially not before anyone could stop him. Good thinking Rayla!

OH GOD.

...On the one hand that’s really bad and a serious problem but on the other hand that is so fucking funny. The magic prison you've been carrying wrapped in an anti-magic blanket through the freezing cold is a giant M&M. Sorry. There is no good way to deliver the news, huh.

Oh, Callum… The way his voice shakes and he sounds so out of breath like he’s having a panic attack. Poor baby.... 🥺

Oh, Honey…

And of course it makes him feel worse because to him, if it really was Aaravos influencing Callum without him knowing, then it’s confirming that, not only is there the possibility that he could one day become a threat to his friends safety, he actively is a threat to them. And if it was simply an accident, at the very least, there’s something he can do to prevent another accident. If it's an accident, then it's something that he did and something that he can make an effort to not let it happen again in the future. Whereas if it’s Aaravos, there’s nothing he can do. The thing he could have done to prevent Aaravos possessing him is not use dark magic but that ship has sailed. He’d be entirely helpless and it’d be his own fault.

Also, it goes without saying but I’m going to say it anyways: Give Callum’s VA an award, the voice-acting is so good, the franticness, the hyperventilation. It’s so good.

Ooh, I love this style of flashback. I love the way that it’s the same artstyle as the credits and how it makes perfect sense since in-universe, Viren’s writing all this down on a piece of parchment. Also, I think that this is first time we’ve heard Lissa’s name in the actual show! I love how you can already see that Claudia got her hair-texture from Lissa while Soren got his from Viren.

Soren with his little dragon plushy!!!! I'm going to start crying...

Hmm. I know it’s probably just coincidence, but the fact that Soren seemingly had a terminal respiratory disease makes me wonder if maybe he had the same condition as Callum’s father, since Callum said that Damian had “some sort of terrible breathing sickness.”

THE QUOTE FROM HARROW!!!! OUGH! “Claudia and I are still searching for a creative solution." "Call it what it is. Dark magic." vs "I found a creative solution. I suppose I should call it what it is, dark magic." The growth.

Oh?? I’ve always been curious what it is about the staff that enhances dark magic since it doesn’t come from a specific primal source. Usually, it comes from taking the life force of living things, but how does a staff help with that? Hmm…

Okay, I’ve questioned this before but. What is up with Kpp’Ar’s arm? It’s clearly injured… Is he using his own blood for spells? It feels like such a random detail to add without explanation. I wonder if we’ll find out...

Ah, so Harrow isn’t king yet. Interesting… I guess that makes sense since Kpp’Ar doesn’t appear in any of the Magma Titan flashbacks.

I think I remember Kpp’Ar having given up dark magic from The Puzzle House (please forgive me if I'm wrong my memory is shit), but I wonder what could have happened to make him veer away from dark magic and the staff to the point where he won’t consider using them to save a child… The royal family doesn’t have Aaravos’s mirror yet so I don’t think it could be that. I am so curious about this man...

KPP’AR MAN, COME ON! I get that you’ve seen some things but you could at the bare minimum be a LITTLE more tactful than that! If there’s some reason that the staff can’t be used, you could, I don’t know, EXPLAIN IT to Viren? Instead of just leaving him sobbing in the room with no explanation as to why you are letting his son die? ...I see where Viren gets it from.

Sksfjalkjslkf  I forgot about the monochrome so when the scene switched back to the Starscraper I was like wait what the hell is happening?

Kosmo, man, I’m not sure this is helping, but also, Callum petting Sneezles for emotional support… I love themm…

Callum, honey… Ough... I am going to cry I love Callum so much. Sweetie…

Ssakljfsalkfj Rayla trying gently elbow Kosmo away from Callum.

Callum, honey, sweetie, darling, sweetheart, love… The fact that he’s just utterly given up on himself and on his ability to continue. That he thinks he’s just too far gone, that there’s nothing left so there’s no point in even trying… Ough. And the implications of refusing to get rid of Aaravos’s control considering the fact that he made Rayla promise to kill him if he ever got controlled again and she did. Oh, honey… Callum’s arc this season is repeatedly punching me directly in the stomach.

Plus the voice acting, again. The way he sounds so dead and empty and almost apathetic, like it’s already over, like there’s just no point to anything anymore. AHG.

Once a dumb sibling always a dumb sibling.

“Truth is everything. But before you give it to another, ask yourself, are you giving them clarity, light, and purpose? Or are you shifting a burden to someone who needs all their strength?” I really like Astrid and I like how they're not going the "lying is always bad, telling the truth is always good in every situation no matter the context" route and instead acknowledging that it requires more nuance! Also, I love how Astrid is animated here, her body language is very expressive and fun.

OH? Oh that explains why it was monotone I had been thinking that it was just like, a sudden style change to portray the emotions or something skjfaslkj. That make a lot more sense.

Also, I like the clarification of how the future-sight works! It seems kind of like Clearsight’s ability in Wings of Fire where she can see all of the possible futures that diverge from her decision. Kosmo can see the possibilities that arise from his decision of whether to tell the truth or not and then pick the best option once he’s seen the diverging paths. It’s probably my favorite form of “prophetic” ability and I especially appreciate it being used here since it lets Timeblind elves like Kosmo exist while still holding true to the themes in the show about the nonexistence of destiny and how the choices you make impact the future.

Okay, I still feel like being Timeblind would suck. I can only imagine Kosmo feeling super awkward repeating what he said in the vision and like. I don’t know but I feel like it’d be creepy to have the people around you constantly parrot what you’ve already heard them say like they’re reading from scripts and you know what they’re about to say and the exact tone they’ll say it in a second before the words come out of their mouths. That would entirely creep me out.

Self confidence restored!!

Continued in reblogs, curse the tumblr image limit

[halesluts]

SWEET PEA

description: SWEET PEAS (aka where spencer reid looked after his little flower)

word count: 3.1k

trigger warnings: disease (nothing graphic) and i think that's it? (sorry if i missed any)

authors note: hello! i managed to finish the chapter earlier than planned, so i decided to post it for you! here's chapter two! i hope you guys like it! again, english is not my mother tongue so i'm sorry if there are any mistakes! positive comments and criticisms are always welcome!

p.s: 'this' means that they are chatting by message.

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“I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.

I love you simply, without problems or pride;

I love you this way because 

I do not know any other way of loving but this,

in which there is no I or you,

so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand,

so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.”

— Pablo Neruda

Brightness. It was the first thing Spencer saw when he opened his eyes. The morning sun was streaming through the thin curtains of his bedroom, shedding a soft, golden light over the room. He blinked a few times, adjusting his eyes to the brightness before stretching, feeling his body slowly wake up. The soft sound of birds singing outside was accompanied by the light rustling of leaves in the wind, creating a soothing melody that filled the room.

Spencer sat on the bed, messing up his hair as he looked around. His room was a mixture of organization and controlled chaos: a pile of books on the bedside table, papers, and notes relating to cases were scattered around the desk, and the chessboard he loved so much rested against the small armchair against the wall — a present he got from Gideon when he turned 26. He ran his hand over his face, feeling the rough texture of his beard beginning to emerge.

He stood up slowly, stretching for a few seconds before walking to the bathroom. The wooden floor creaked slightly under his bare feet, a familiar sound that was part of his daily routine. He turned on the sink tap, letting the water run for a few seconds before washing his face, feeling the invigorating freshness that the water brought. Looking in the mirror, he saw the familiarity of her features, but with an expression that only appeared in the early morning hours: a mixture of tranquility and contemplation.

As he brushed his teeth, his thoughts wandered, as usual, to her. Little flower. The sweet nickname that only she used, and which always made him smile. He wondered what she was doing for breakfast, or if she was getting ready for work, and a slight smile appeared on his face. 'Good morning, Bunny! I hope your day is as wonderful as you are!’, he imagined her saying, as she often did.

Spencer finished her routine in the bathroom and, on returning to her room, picked up her cell phone to check her messages. He saw one from JJ, wishing him a good morning, and another from her, simple and to the point: ‘Good morning, Bunny’. He smiled as he read the message and replied quickly, feeling the familiar warmth grow in his chest. 

Wearing a dress shirt and tailored pants, which in his humble opinion was the best combination of clothes in the whole world, he finally felt ready to face any challenge that the universe, and the serial killers, decided to put in his way that day; that would be the brilliant answer should Principal Erin Strauss ask as soon as he arrived at BAU. In reality, what the young doctor wanted most of all was for the day to be completely calm and uneventful.

He walked towards the kitchen, where the aroma of freshly brewed coffee was already filling the air. Spencer picked up the mug with drawings of flowers from the Atlantic forest, a gift Little flower had given him when they had been friends for a year and which had been used daily ever since, and poured himself a cup of coffee, enjoying the first sip with a satisfied sigh.

It was a quiet start to a new day, but deep down Spencer knew that his simple routine had a special meaning - it was in these small moments of comfort and tranquility that he found the strength to endure the unpredictability that life at BAU brings.

Spencer's silence blended with the atmosphere in the bullpen. The environment exuded familiarity: the scattered tables, the murmurs of conversation in the background, the occasional sound of keyboards being pressed. He was concentrating, alternating between the book he was holding and a pile of physical files spread out on his desk, analyzing the intricacies of the latest case the team had received — and which, luckily for him, was a local case. His eyes scanned the pages with agility as he correlated seemingly disconnected details, trying to find some kind of pattern between them — one of the advantages of having an eidetic memory and being able to read a total of 20,000 words per minute.

Between files, he looked up, observing his colleagues at work. JJ was on the phone, probably discussing some details of the case with the local police. Morgan, standing next to Rossi, seemed to be engaged in a serious conversation about the next stage of the investigation. Prentiss, meanwhile, was at his desk, reviewing reports with his typical efficiency. And Hotch, in the middle of a telephone conversation with the detective from the police station in charge of the case, went to Garcia's office to check on something.

Despite the usual atmosphere, something was disturbing in Spencer's mind. He noticed that the light daily routine had been interrupted by an absence he couldn't ignore. He hadn't received a message from the protagonist since that “good morning”, which was unusual. They usually exchanged messages early in the morning, even if it was just to comment on how each other's evening had been or to share trivial things and some inside jokes.

Perhaps the store was full of customers? Or did she have an appointment? 

He contemplated sending a message to ask if everything was all right, but he didn't want to disturb her if she was too busy. But at the same time, he wanted to know if everything was all right with her. As he tried to regain his concentration on the case, his heart spoke louder and he ended up sending a simple message.

‘Hey, is everything okay? You haven't sent me any messages.’

He decided to wait for a few more minutes, but the lack of an answer brought back memories of the last few days. He remembered how the young woman had seemed more tired lately, the deep circles under her eyes, the downcast tone of her conversations. Comments about headaches or tiredness came up more often but were always followed by an attempt to minimize the discomfort she felt. This made Spencer worry even more, as he was well aware of her tendency to hide what she was feeling.

He tried to push these thoughts aside and focus on his work, but the worry persisted, hanging over his mind like a nagging shadow. The young doctor knew that she could take care of herself, but something inside him kept telling him that something was wrong. In the middle of reading the profile of one of the possible suspects, Spencer's phone vibrated on the table. The subtle but familiar ring made his heart leap involuntarily. He looked at the screen and saw the name Little flower.

With a slight mixture of hesitation, relief, and anxiety, he unlocked the device and read the message. It was short and to the point, but there was something in the words that confirmed his fears. ‘I know you're working, but can you come here? I think there's something wrong with me.’ The urgency was palpable, and the unease was clear. Spencer felt a tightness in his chest as he realized what this meant: the young woman, who never asked for his help, was clearly in need of it now.

He took a deep breath, feeling the tightness in his chest intensify. It was rare that the girl asked for his help, she always tried to deal with things on her own. This only made Spencer's determination grow. Without wasting any time, he stood up from his chair, his focus now completely on the situation.

“Reid, is something wrong?” Morgan asked, noticing the sudden change in his demeanor.

“I need to go out.” He answered quickly, picking up the sweater he had discarded on the chair. “It's… personal. Tell Hotch I'll be back as soon as I can. Or I can help you guys by phone.”

Morgan nodded, noticing the seriousness in the younger man's tone and choosing not to question further. Spencer ran out of the bullpen, ignoring the worried looks he left behind. He knew his job was important, after all, he saved lives, but at that moment, nothing was more important than being by her side. As he waited for the elevator, his mind revolved around reflections on how, no matter how well he knew his friend, there were still times when she managed to hide her vulnerability until the last second. His racing thoughts mentally drew up plan after plan, but he had only one certainty: he had to get to her, and fast.

Time seemed to have flown. When Spencer left the bullpen, his thoughts were already racing. He needed to prepare as best he could to take care of his Little Flower, and that meant thinking about every detail. First, he would go to the pharmacy to buy some basic medication: painkillers, decongestants, and anything else that could help relieve the symptoms. He also knew that he would need a few additional items, such as tissues, lip moisturizer, and a thermometer, in case he needed to monitor her fever.

Arriving at the car, he unlocked the doors and quickly got in, his face a mixture of concern and determination. Spencer knew that time was of the essence, but he also needed to be meticulous in his choices. He made a mental list of the food he would buy next: fresh ingredients for a nourishing soup, calming teas that could help her relax, honey to soothe her throat, and perhaps some easy-to-eat fruit, such as bananas or apples.

On his way to her apartment, Spencer passed a pharmacy and parked quickly. He went in and bought the essentials, checking twice to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything. He then headed to a nearby market, where he picked up everything he needed to prepare a meal that would be both comforting and easy to digest. Furthermore, he was not only concerned with looking after the protagonist's physical health but also with ensuring that she felt comforted and safe.

Finally, with the bags in the car, Spencer continued to the apartment. With every passing minute, he felt more anxious, the thought of the young woman sick and alone pushing him to go even faster. When he parked in front of the building, he grabbed the bags and rushed to the door, oblivious to the visible haste in his movements. He used the spare key, knowing that time was of the essence, and carefully entered the apartment.

Immediately, Spencer started looking for her, his heart racing at the thought of what he might find. When he saw her on the sofa, clearly weak and trying to maintain a semblance of normality, he felt a tightness in his chest again. Without hesitation, he went over to her, his eyes quickly assessing the situation. His little flower needed help, and Spencer was determined to do whatever was necessary.

“I'm here now, everything will be fine Little flower.” He said softly, but also firmly, as he helped the young woman get into a better position on the sofa.

“What are you doing here, Bunny?” The weak, nasally voice made Spencer's heart squeeze.

The nickname affection, something that was uniquely theirs, said in such a vulnerable way, added to the great mix of emotions that were bubbling up inside him. He felt a wave of tenderness and concern, but also a slight touch of sadness as he realized how fragile she was at that moment.

The gentle intimacy of the nickname reminded him of all the times they had been together in happy moments, and contrasted painfully with the current situation. The use of the nickname, even during her illness, reinforced Spencer's determination to be there for her. And he knew that, right now, she needed his support and affection more than ever.

With a gentle smile, but his eyes shining with concern, Spencer leaned a little closer and replied, his voice laden with genuine care:

“I'm here to look after you. You don't have to worry about anything, I'll take care of everything.”

After covering her with a soft blanket, he went to the kitchen, where he began to prepare the soup with the ingredients he had bought. His movements were quick but precise, each action charged with a deep desire to ensure that the young woman felt better as soon as possible.

While stirring the soup, Spencer adjusted the temperature of the room, always on the lookout for any sign of discomfort. He was completely focused, his every thought directed towards how he could alleviate the young woman's suffering. Caring for her in this way was Spencer's way of showing how much he cared, the feelings he couldn't yet put into words, but which were clear in every little detail of his actions.

At the end, with the soup ready and the tea waiting, he returned to the living room. Watching her, Spencer felt a wave of affection and concern, wanting his little flower to know that he was there, that she could count on him, always. With a soft smile, he handed her the bowl of soup, hoping that this simple gesture would convey everything he still couldn't say out loud.

While the young woman rested on the sofa, wrapped in the blanket that Spencer had carefully arranged, the young doctor approached her and sat down on the edge of the sofa. Concern still marked his features, but he tried to soften his expression, knowing that she needed reassurance more than anything at the moment. Determined to alleviate some of the possible discomfort the girl was feeling, Spencer began to talk, choosing light topics that he knew could distract her.

“Did you know that the Victorians offered sweet peas to thank their hosts for the pleasant time they had spent together?” He said, keeping his voice calm and reassuring. “They believed that the light, sweet smell of the flower brightened up the house and served as a symbol of hospitality.” He continued, telling little trivia and interesting stories that he knew would usually make the young woman smile. “They signify gratitude for the great time we had together, and go well with three flowers in particular: Hyssop, Orchid, and Zinnia.”

With every word, Spencer watched the protagonist's reactions carefully, noticing how the conversation seemed to help shift the focus away from the unease. He was aware of how valuable these moments of connection were, especially in times of vulnerability. Even in such a difficult situation, there was something special about the simplicity of being together, of sharing these small moments that strengthened the bond between them.

When she stirred, settling down on the sofa, Spencer immediately leaned over to help her, carefully pulling the blanket higher and making sure she was comfortable and warm. The physical closeness between them made the young doctor feel a new wave of intense feelings. For him, there was something deeply intimate and meaningful about caring for someone he cherished so much. He could feel the vulnerability of the little girl, and this only increased his desire to be there for her, to be the support she needed.

As the conversation slowed down, he noticed that the young woman began to relax and the signs of discomfort gradually softened. The room was filled with comfortable silence, the kind of silence that didn't require words because they both knew they were there for each other. Spencer stood to the side, feeling the serenity that this moment of shared stillness brought. For him, as strange as it was, that silence was proof of the trust and intimacy they shared, a reflection of how much they understood each other without the need to speak.

When the young woman, exhausted and frazzled, finally gave in to fatigue, she fell asleep in Spencer's arms, her head resting gently on his chest. The young doctor remained motionless, hardly breathing, as if any movement could disturb her much-needed sleep. Again, Spencer felt as if the whole world had stopped, leaving only the two of them there, on that shelf.

As the minutes passed, he found himself lost in his thoughts. The weight of the words “I love you” formed on his lips, yet this was a confession he had never dared to make. The vulnerability of the young woman lying on his chest, the way she trusted Spencer so much to let herself be taken care of, made these feelings almost unbearable to suppress. Without thinking, he opened his mouth to whisper those three words but stopped himself when he realized that the young woman wasn't conscious enough to hear. Relief mixed with frustration washed over him. Was he ready to say that? And if he had, would that have been the right moment?

The knowledge that she wouldn't be able to hear his words brought a mixture of sadness and relief. He wanted to tell her, he wanted her to know, but part of him still feared the possible consequences. What would it be like if that confession changed the dynamic between them? What if, by opening up, he lost something that was already so precious? Despite everything, Spencer knew that the moment had almost slipped out of his hands, and that disturbed him deeply.

Even after the near-confession, Spencer continued to care for her with the same dedication. He rearranged the blanket around their bodies, making sure she was still comfortable and warm. He decided at that moment that he wouldn't leave her side until she was completely recovered. His little flower's well-being was what mattered most now, and his feelings could wait.

As she slept, Spencer found himself lost in thought about what had almost happened. He struggled between the desire to confess his feelings and the fear of what might change between them. Perhaps he would never have the courage to be completely honest, but that didn't diminish the depth of what he felt. And although he hadn't said the words, something inside him knew that their bond had grown even stronger. They were indispensable to each other, and that somehow comforted him.

Spencer realized that no matter what happened, he was committed to being by her side and supporting her at all times. He knew that, eventually, he would find the right moment to express his feelings. But for now, he was just content to be there, caring for and protecting the loved one, waiting patiently for the day when his words would finally find the courage to be spoken.

[housethemd]

Autistic House Headcanons Pt. 3

(This one talks about shutdowns/meltdowns and the consequences of that just fyi)

- House hides in Wilson’s office when he’s overstimulated to try a prevent a meltdown/shutdown. It doesn’t always work, and if doesn’t Wilson supports him.

- House can be very high masking when he wants/needs to be, but he finds it very exhausting and harder to do since the infarction because he’s always in pain. The pain is a constant that makes his other sensitivities more pronounced.

(Think about if you have a stuffy nose - it’s uncomfortable but you can cope and go about your life. But if you have a stuffy nose and then you get a headache everything feels so much worse and it makes it so much harder to act like you feel fine. The world is life a stuffy nose to House, and his leg pain is the headache.)

- House likes to stim vocally when he’s by himself. Mostly saying the names of weird infectious diseases (he likes multi syllabaic words)

- He uses playing the piano as a way of self soothing. He finds he gets lost in the music and it quiets his mind.

- When House has a meltdowns they sometimes start as yelling/banging things with his hands/cane. He tries to get himself away from others but will often harm himself once he’s alone. He will jam his fingers into his infarction site to make it hurt more (this results in days of bad pain, but during a meltdown he isn’t thinking about long term consequences obviously.)

- House doesn’t tell Wilson every time he’s had a meltdown, because again he feels a lot of shame about them, but if Wilson knows or sees House have a meltdown he does his best to care for him.

- House has a weighted blanket Wilson bought him, and after a meltdown/shutdown or if House is just feeling really overstimulated after a long case he likes laying under it and listening to music with his headphones in a dark room.

- When House has a shutdown he goes non-verbal and usually can’t make eye contact.

- House loves textures. Wilson goes out of his way to bring House objects with interesting textures. When he brings House one he likes a lot, House smiles as he touches it and will stim with his body in joy over the experience. It makes Wilson so happy.

[eroutesque]

Ribcaged

RIBCAGED

My soul and mind are empty space,

Spilled glass waiting to get shattered.

I have always been at the place

Where everyone longs to end up in.

Everyone is jealous,

I cannot feel anything.

To think is a heavy lifting.

Everyone around me is either mentally fit

or spiritually injured.

Yet, the void has disappointed me.

For what comes next?

Nothingness is overrated.

I suffocate,

maybe I should drown my soul,

As it has forgotten how to breathe.

And then I met you.

Loosing all hope was freedom.

You lured me with the tempting beat of your heart,

So unprotected and free to get.

Bloody Fondant cœur  texturing between my teeth,

I got ribcaged, inside your core.

The taste of your sick heart was worth to loose my freedom,

I dont need it anyway.

Infected by your disease,

I finally started to dream,

Of a happy life and healthy mind,

All so suddenly being stolen away from me.

You were about to explode,

So full of memories,

So sick of all the pain,

Fed up suffering.

I taught you to pretend as if you are free,

Made you fake your smile.

Until you no longer could tell your heart apart from my mind,

Until our lie melted its roots with your nerves.

You told me :

“ When I am with you,

All my pain goes away. “

Darling, I steal your suffering,

Your pain migrates towards me,

Like a magnet, I suck it all up,

Cause I was fed up of the void,

Before I met you I remained indifferent,

But I always knew,

It’s better to suffer

than to remain dead inside .

I breath the air you exhale,

All your toxins might become my hope,

And maybe once again I will wake up

Happy to think

Happy to feel

Happy to exist.

So make me happy, darling,

Make me relieved,

Make me want to live once again,

And not least,

make me want to pretend as if I am free.