#Sr scratchy

[jiminysjournal]

Okay, so I’ve been thinking this since the trailer that showed Teen holding Sr. Scratchy…

…but I don’t think he’s Billy. I think he’s Nicholas, albeit done in a way that parallels elements of Billy in the comics.

Instead of being obsessed with Wanda, he’s obsessed with Agatha.

We get a good look of Agnes O’Conner’s dead son’s room, planting the seeds of Nicholas.

Agatha calls him “Rabbit Boy,” and he seems to adore Sr. Scratchy.*

She also pretends they’re mother and son, at one point!

Very specifically, she can’t hear any information about his backstory — his name, his hometown — beyond that his mother died.

And, on that note, Rebecca can’t be dead; I simply won’t allow it. And, she must be played by Idina Menzel; I mean, COME ON.

Besides, Billy should be played by a Jewish actor, anyway. Like, I don’t know; Jushua Rush?

Agatha seemed to indicate that her coven betrayed her first. What if Nicholas died, as a result? And then, he was reborn, in modern day, as Teen? Could we finally get Mephisto, by the way?

*Now, admittedly, Billy did also pet Sr. Scratchy in “Breaking the Fourth Wall,” and we did see that shot of Teen Marvelbounding Billy, but the latter could be a scarlet herring, playing on people’s assumptions that he’s Billy.

I might be missing some stuff; feel free to add on. But I do want to timestamp this:

9/19/24 5:13AM, EDT

1:09PM Edit: I just remembered something I forgot! The brooch is a locket, containing a lock(e?) of hair! Could it be Nicholas’?

[rosiebeetle]

Different beetlejuice headcannons I have depending on actor!!! Because this is my account and why not :3 (tw for mentions of hanging and homophobia a long with abuse. Iget very srs when it comes to my juice lore)

Justinjuice: adhd/hyper compulsive pan/non binary sowhere under the I don't give a fuck umbrella yk doesn't care what pronoun you use. He definitely was a human or "breather" before death but he died somewhere in the 1700s maybe 1600s (Pilgrim times you get the gist) he was sentenced to death by hanging because him and his lover got caught together once (kissing.. Get your mind out of the gutter) his past lover just so happened to look like Adam and have the same name. Past lover was able to escape while bj unfortunately did not. That is the reason he is so drawn to Adam but he doesn't know that because he doesn't remember anything from his past besides a few flash memories. (This hc based on me and my girlfriends au rp thing we have) Juno was absolute trash to him but still lied and said he was her son. Juno basically forced him into the human world to watch the maitlands since they were important and needed to die and go to the netherworld quick he also has BPD or bi polar because I say so and I like projecting

Brightjuice: autistic mainly highly sensitive to touch and lights and stuff also very needs to move at all times or he will start exploding (his head tilts t Rex arms ect) greysexual/bi and genderfluid (mainly he/her) he was definitely a born dead, Juno in my opinion TRIED to be a good mother but grew tired of his autistic meltdowns fast and quickly became a bad one. The reason why I think he's more of a born dead is because of his actions and maneruisms (idk how to spell it sorry..) He's very unhuman like especially compared to all the other juices (very buggy twitchy, not very good at being among the living)

Koberjuice: definitely a mix of audhd definitely on the spectrum there more sensory than hyper, hates fur like absolutely despises the feeling (very specific ik shush) but like the scratchy fur they put on those shitty stools at Burlington and the fur on short hair dogs (like pitbulls) but long softer furs like bunnys and cats is ok it just has to be soft. Very bi and doesn't really have a gender label he just likes he/she sometimes they and enjoys it when people asks what hes feeling today. Also a born dead but unlike brightjuice he never really spent much time with other dead people, Juno was a shit mother to begin with so to escape he hung around humans a lot putting on a humany look to avoid people hating him but in his early 20s Juno found out and cursed him (I unfortunately do not have a koberjuice gif.. So have this!)

Blumjuice (just what I've taken from the clips since I have watched a full boot so sorry if this is more out of character..): adhd like justinjuice very hyper likes to move and stuff and just very touchy he likes touchy touchy things yk the type of guy to go to a craft store or home Depot just to touch shit. Also bi but more he/they than she, it's very rare that he likes she to be used but there are times. Also was a human before dieing but he died more roaring 20s from getting involved with some bad people (hence the whole suit and style) stayed very connected with the world after becoming a demon though, not COMPLETELY dumb about technology but he does need help using it though (again.. No gif of hin.. Forgive me stolen from erynn COUGH)

[livingformintyoongi]

The Han Family: Kim Taehyung

Trope: Established relationship.

Oc Information: [The name will be used in the parts where another couple is discussed to avoid confusion.]

Shin Soomin.

23 yo.

06/04

1.60 cm

She was in a relationship with Sr. Han's brother for a few years.

Context: When you were still young, around 16 years old, you met Han Jaesung, the younger brother of a very famous businessman in Korea. He was a very charismatic and funny man, or so thought your younger self, a much more impressionable and innocent you.

You were from a dysfunctional family, one that cared little or nothing about what happened to you. You were easy prey for any foul predator found in the cruel world in which you lived. Jaesung was one of them, and to your misfortune, you fell right into his sweetened words in order to have you as a toy to pass the time with.

You stayed with him until you turned 19. You still remember the moment when you ran away from him, when you had to run barefoot, with your clothes destroyed, your body bruised and your throat dry and scratchy from screaming so much. You still remember how you were lucky enough to meet Taehyung, a policeman who had just started working, and who found you near the station.

He helped you as much as he could, even paying for the hospital service you had to receive. He was by far one of the most special people you had the pleasure to meet. It was a pity you didn't get to see him again until 3 years later.

He already had a lot of experience in his job, and you had already taken charge of your life, you had worked on yourself in order to fix your stability that had been so shattered by that man, and now you felt secure enough to start a slow but loving relationship, something you could never have, not even with your family.

You were grateful that Taehyung gave you this opportunity, and you would do anything to keep him as happy as he kept you, even if it meant hiding your past from him.

[livingformintyoongi1]

The Han Family: Kim Taehyung

Trope: Established relationship.

Oc Information: [The name will be used in the parts where another couple is discussed to avoid confusion.]

Shin Soomin.

23 yo.

06/14

She was in a relationship with Sr. Han's brother for a few years.

Context: When you were still young, around 16 years old, you met Han Jaesung, the younger brother of a very famous businessman in Korea. He was a very charismatic and funny man, or so thought your younger self, a much more impressionable and innocent you.

You were from a dysfunctional family, one that cared little or nothing about what happened to you. You were easy prey for any foul predator found in the cruel world in which you lived. Jaesung was one of them, and to your misfortune, you fell right into his sweetened words in order to have you as a toy to pass the time with.

You stayed with him until you turned 19. You still remember the moment when you ran away from him, when you had to run barefoot, with your clothes destroyed, your body bruised and your throat dry and scratchy from screaming so much. You still remember how you were lucky enough to meet Taehyung, a policeman who had just started working, and who found you near the station.

He helped you as much as he could, even paying for the hospital service you had to receive. He was by far one of the most special people you had the pleasure to meet. It was a pity you didn't get to see him again until 3 years later.

He already had a lot of experience in his job, and you had already taken charge of your life, you had worked on yourself in order to fix your stability that had been so shattered by that man, and now you felt secure enough to start a slow but loving relationship, something you could never have, not even with your family.

You were grateful that Taehyung gave you this opportunity, and you would do anything to keep him as happy as he kept you, even if it meant hiding your past from him.

[inchidentally]

I have so many other things I want to focus on but my brain keeps deciding to write for my stupid F1 modern royalty au that absolutely no one needs !!

tw for dubcon - these are snippets from the carlando and dando parts only

“What? You cannot mean this, papa. You can’t. I won’t!”

Carlos Sr looks on as the attendants rapidly pack up his son’s trunk and cases.

“I can and you will, my son. The palace is sending a jet to Paris and we are leaving immediately by car to take a train from London. The less attention drawn before we are out of this grey country, the better.”

With that, Carlos Senior strode across the room and out the door.

Carlos collapses onto a chair, face in his hands. He doesn’t look up even when he hears the door open again moments later.

“Carlos.”

It isn’t Lando, but almost as bad. Carlos sucks in a breath and lifts his head to look Jon in the eyes.

“How much did you hear?”

“All of it. I followed you to Lando’s room - waited outside, trying to decide if I should… it doesn’t matter. Did-”

“No. We didn’t. He said no.”

Jon sags in relief but his face remains so awfully sad. Sadness looks all wrong on him.

“Were you just going to let him think you abandoned him when he refused to have sex with you?”

The laugh scrapes against Carlos’ lungs as it leaves them. It costs him everything to stand but Carlos has to show at least one person in this castle the respect they deserve. 

“Surely it’s better that way? He will heal faster if he hates me. Landito wasn’t made to feel hate for long. You will explain it all to him, yes?”

Jon tilts his head thoughtfully in a gesture so like Lando it makes Carlos’ heart bleed.

“I’m going to explain it all, but I’m going to tell him the truth. It’s what he deserves.”

Carlos nods. It is far more generous than he deserves. Jon is right, as always.

He holds out a hand but Jon draws him into a brief, tight hug instead. 

“You’re not a bad man, Carlos,” he says, keeping one hand on Carlos’ shoulder. “I hope that when all of this has blown over that you can be friends with us again.”

.

.

The blanket is a little scratchy but the earth beneath it is soft enough. 

Daniel’s kisses are different: deep, demanding, rough. It’s all Lando can do to keep up. After a while, his mouth simply remains open, tongue lifting to meet Daniel’s onslaught. His hands slide haphazardly through Daniel’s hair and against the muscle of his shoulder, a nervous giggle bubbling out of his throat where Daniel is kissing it.

“Your beard itches!”

He feels Daniel’s smile against his skin before his lips seal around a single point on Lando’s neck. His teeth dig in and he begins to suck hard. 

Lando’s wail seems to fill the air for miles.

His shirt has been opened at some point and Daniel’s calluses are lighting sparks up and down Lando’s torso. Thumbs flick at his nipples until they harden and are met with a warm, wet mouth. 

Lando writhes and their hips meet, closer together than he’d realized. It’s only the second time he’s felt a hard dick against his own and Daniel is wasting no time popping the button on Lando’s shorts. 

Wait. What’s happening? Wait. Wait.

His shorts and underwear are gone. 

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.”

“Daniel, I–”

“Shhh.” 

The warmth of a body over his feels grounding and Lando automatically wraps his arms around it. 

“Don’t worry, baby. Won’t be breaking any rules.”

Daniel returns to sucking on Lando’s neck when a hand slips between their bodies and slicks something wet onto both of their dicks. The sensation has Lando returning to full hardness so fast it makes his back arch. But where– ?

Then Daniel is above him, face shadowed and so intense he could be a stranger. He’s maneuvering Lando’s hips and guiding himself one-handed. For a second, Lando wants to drive his heel into Daniel’s shoulder on instinct. 

Then Daniel’s one hand is holding himself between Lando’s cheeks and the other starts jerking Lando in long, firm strokes. 

“Feels amazing, right?”

It does.

“Amazing,” Lando whispers back in a daze. 

With the way their bodies are moving it looks so much like they’re really fucking. The danger only makes it feel sexier. Each time the head of Daniel’s dick catches as it passes over him, Lando has to dig his hands into his own hair to keep from begging to be fucked properly. 

He’s sure that’s why Daniel makes his thrusts shallower - why his eyes gleam even in the dim light of dusk settling around them. 

For just a split second, Lando imagines his thighs falling apart and being speared and filled without so much as a ring on his finger, the faces of church leaders gaping in shock at the crown prince taking it bare out on the red dirt of the Australian outback. He comes so violently it wracks his entire body. 

Unseen above, Daniel bucks against him and comes thick and hot and sudden. 

Damn. Wiping both hands on the blanket, Daniel begins mentally kicking himself. He hopes that will still be enough to do it.

The sky has gone fully dark and it’s time to leave before a search party is launched. He pushes himself to stand and shakes the ache from his wrist. The creeping sensation that he’s played this all wrong at the eleventh hour has him agitated.

“Come on, kid! Clean up and let’s get you back in one piece, yeah?”

But Lando remains lying down, slender ribs powering through deep breaths, hips twisted slightly where Daniel had left them. Not a soul in the vast wilderness around them bears witness to the band of stars reflected in Lando’s wide eyes. Some galactic pool spills over and covers his unlined brow in a sheen of moonlight like the ghost of a crown.

When he finally sits up, soft and naked below the waist, he laughs when Daniel throws a leg over the seat of his bike and has to adjust himself through his shorts. The smile Daniel sends back is confused but he laughs anyway. Lando wonders if it could be like this all the time.

Then it all goes promptly to hell.

Lando is wincing through the pain and trying to help. Daniel just keeps gritting out shit shit shit and jabbing at his mobile, totally lost to his own freakout. Lando gives up trying to reassure him and focuses on lying in a way that doesn’t make his shoulder feel like it’s on fire.

The jeep arrives and four men get out. Two of them carefully lift Lando into the backseat. One of them is holding a phone to Lando who babbles about it being all his fault, he had gotten distracted, didn’t follow the track of Daniel’s tires like he was supposed to, had gotten sloppy and fallen. The other one is interrogating Daniel. Why won’t Daniel look up so Lando can catch his eye?

–

The hospital room’s lights hurt his eyes. It’s easier to answer all the probing questions with them closed anyway. Hadn’t he answered everything truthfully like he’d been taught? He was always a weakling when it came to painkillers anyway. He sure hopes most of the graphic details won’t be repeated to mum and dad. How embarrassing.

There’s dad’s voice now.

“Oh, I’m going to kill him…”

—

“They have it all recorded, darling. Once they played him what you’d said in the hospital he gave in completely.”

Mum sniffles viciously and squeezes Lando’s hand tighter.

“He took the bribe and left without a word. Didn’t ask to apologize to you or even say goodbye.”

Lying in a pool of unnecessarily cheerful sunshine covering his bed, Lando can’t decide if he wants to cry stormily into his mother’s arms or ask her to leave so he can send one of the many desperate texts he’d begun to Daniel in the days since Lando had been flown back to England. 

Mum smiles sadly, as if reading his mind.

“He knew what he was doing, sweet one. You weren’t the first and likely won’t be the last.”

In the end, it isn’t really so shameful to sob against your own mother’s shoulder at twenty-two years old. 

—

For the second time in four years, Lando opens the daily briefing email from his senior advisor and is confronted with his former suitor’s arm around another man’s shoulders. Beside the young Dutch king, Daniel’s smile is broad and toothy. As if to torture himself further, Lando opens the last selfie they’d taken together. 

Daniel’s smile is exactly the same.

[justalittleobsessed]

A white post-it note was stuck on the wall of the cabin next to an open window. Small scratchy noises and clicks could occasionally be heard from within the walls and ceiling.

Seems like the glitter bomb from the last event triggered a little prankster >3 Arthropodia mikey from cabin 3 be upon thee

@tmnt-fandom-family-reunion

Mikey walked into his cabin, breathing a sigh of relief. Today had been a long day. Turtle Titan Jr. needed a break for a bit from crimefighting. Looking for troublesome Raphs that totally existed with Turtle Titan Sr. was hard work.

His costume hidden away safely and his normal everyday turtle persona back in full swing, he was ready for a relaxing night with his cabinmates. He still had to plan out outfits for Cabin 15 and 14's fashion show, and he was hoping to run some of his ideas past them.

He had almost made it too. Almost. When he got to his bed he stopped straight in his tracks. A note was taped on the side of his and Smokey's bed.

"What the hell?!" He screeched. "I thought we were done with the glitter bomb revenge! I thought we were free!" He scans the walls nervously, backing into the center of the room.

Suddenly, he heard scratching. From within the walls. From within the walls.

He shakes his head, booking it to the door. "Nope. I'm out! Seen to many horror movies to know where this is going!"

@tmnt-fandom-family-reunion

[nabbit-unmasked]

Current Strongest Kin(s): a bunch of songs

Most Preferred Name(s): Sage

Current Fronters: Sage & Cougar (probably)

Intro Post!

Hi! I'm Sage/Stolace, but you can also call me by any kin name. I'm also fine with any nicknames you can come up with, as long as they're spinoffs of my other names!

• I'm an Alterhuman, and that's what this blog will be mainly focused on, with a special focus on placekin topics.

• My pronouns are he/it/lo/🇨🇫

• I'm a minor (16+ in age)

• I am Autistic and attribute this as the source of my alterhumanity.

• I am a therian, placekin, fictionkin, conceptkin, and an alterhuman in general. Overall, I have 20+ confirmed kintypes which I'll list down below.

• I am genderfluid, and my sexuality is achillean. I identify as trans, mlm, and punkboy4punkboy. I am also objectum, especially for The Gambia and dakota discs.

• Taken by Val (he is my boyfriend /srs)

• I personally identify as a punk, degenerate, freak, and social reject. I reclaim these terms proudly.

• Liminous (Dreadliminal, Backroomian, +more)

• I am the functioner of an Imagian plurality. Collectively, we use they/them pronouns. We are mixed-origin and pro-endo, but we aren't really concerned about our own origin or if we are disordered or not.

[ Kinlist, Identities, Tags, and BYF under the cut. ]

♡ -> Kinlist <- ♡

• Theriotypes:

♡ Lipizzan

♡ Fisher

♡ Quoll (Species leaning: Eastern & Spot-Tailed)

♡ Ruminantia (Cladotherian)

♡ Ardeidae (Pluritherian)

♡ New Guinea Singing Dog / Canine

♡ Big Cat (Lion / Cougar)

♡ [Unsure] Kori Bustard

• Placekin:

♡ Central African Republic (C.A.R. / CAR)

• Conceptkin:

♡ Home Safety Hotline/HSH

*[as in the company, not the physical game]

♡ Slaughterhouse (GD level)

♡ Limbo (GD level)

• Songkins:

♡ Can't Stop - Red Hot Chili Peppers

♡ Everyone Knows That/EKT (Lostwave version)

♡ B O D Y O N T H E F L O O R - Scratchy

♡ you don't love me - Rebzyyx

• Songflickers:

[ Currently None ]

• Fictionkins:

♡ Stolace* (Helluva Boss)

♡ Vox (Hazbin Hotel)

♡ Adam (Hazbin Hotel)

♡ Stone (Ramshackle)

♡ Moisty (TWISTED DOCTOR Universe / Doll Eye)

♡ Nabbit (Mario Franchise)

♡ Cooper (Papa's -eria games)

♡ 1st Prize (BBIEAL)

♡ Blabbot (Amanda the Adventurer)

*[ I spell my name as "Stolace", not "Stolas". ]

• Fictionhearted:

♡ Blitzø (Helluva Boss)

♡ Valentino (Hazbin Hotel)

• Other Hearttypes:

♡ D.R.C.

♡ Birds

♡ Bat-Eared Fox

• Other Identities:

♡ Myotis/Little Brown Bat w/ Leafnose

♡ Common Bedbug copinglink

♡ Seagull copinglink

♡ Odie copinglink (from Garfield)

Special Tags:

#I am the CAR kin / #CARstuff🇨🇫: Posts about my placekin experience as the Central African Republic.

#placekin questions: Answering questions about Placekin and my experience with being placekin.

#🇨🇫❤🇬🇲: Posts about my objectum crush, The Gambia

#aWannabe: Posts about my favorite music artist, aWannabe.

Before You Follow (BYF) :

• I am a minor (16+)

• I don't mind if 18+ blogs interact in a SFW manner, as long as your blog isn't entirely/mostly NSFW

• I like Hazbin Hotel and 4-5 of my headmates are sourced there (some ppl have this on their DNI???)

• I'm dating Valentino from Hazbin Hotel. /srs

• I am against gatekeeping and exclusion.

• I welcome and support every kind of system, plurality, and multiplicity, including endos. I am part of a mixed-origin imagian plurality myself.

• I welcome and support factkin and factives. I am not one myself, but our plurality does have factives.

• I do not post or repost anything political on this blog, unless it is in reference to placekin.

• I don't participate in proship or radqueer discourse on this blog. Consider me neutral.

• I have no DNI. I cannot stop you from making that first interaction with me. If I strongly disagree with your views or you make me uncomfortable, I will just block you.

[kittykatkatelol]

update I'm allergic to dust so now my throat is closing up

yay /sarcasm

somehow cleaning my top bunk escalated into me cleaning my shelf too

now my top bunk is ready for sleeping instead of storage and I can actually find everything on my shelf

🎉🎉🎉 plus I also messed with my xbox and got halo two player set up along with an extra profile which I had been meaning to set up for ages

tis a start and I still have too much energy lol

[mothysasks]

Welcome to my ask blog!

WIP post, will add later, will probably organize better later too

(Spoilers btw)

Below is information and rules:

<><><>

Rules (may add more later):

1: Please specify what AU you're referring to, and specify the character or characters you're talking about

2: Keep them SFW please

3: Please be respectful

4: I may not always draw something, it depends. It may come in character based chatting if in-character, or ooc talk. (side note: I don't do requests)

<><><>

Info about AUs and OCs below

AU: Heart of the Storm

First off is the Heart of the Storm AU, which I am still adding designs and characters to (and yes, it finally has a name after all this time lol). This is the home to my versions of the cannon characters, and several OCs, all with side plots to explore! If you want to ask someone specific, be sure to use their name, or characteristics, I will put their names below (and soon some character appearance to distinguish them)

Focus:

All cannon Slugcats

FP, LTTM, NSH and SRS (others are open, this is just what I usually focus on)

Scavenger Chief, pups and the tribe

Alternate Focus (OCs):

Slugcats: Valkyrie, Void Cursed, Pathfinder, Martial, Barbarian, Elder (this one is due for redesign)

Slugcat pups: Cheese, Kick, Scratchy, Lumi and Mori

Iterators: Withering Abyss, Horizon of Consciousness, IANLM/Endless Imagination, Blind Signal, Prayers in Solitude and Howling Tempest

Scavenger: Prince (possible others, but so far it's just him)

I'll include a post soon about the OCs themselves soon. Making images currently.

OCs (Iterators and purposed)

<><><>

AU: Wrath God (temp name maybe)

An offshoot AU of Heart of the Storm, based around Artificer's strong desire to take revenge on the Scavenger tribe on Five Pebbles' structure. Though with some careful research from a long distance friend, she discovers a way to annihilate the tribe completely with the help and teachings of Saint.

Focus:

Artificer, Saint, and the pups (unnamed currently)

Scavenger Chief, pups (also unnamed), possible other Scavengers, but unknown for now.

<><><>

AU: Rising from the Tides

During the collapse of Looks to the Moon, her systems were damaged terribly and some even destroyed. Her memories of people, what she is, where she is, and what exactly happened to her is gone. Despite this, she has faint, jumbled memories of Five Pebbles, though she doesn't know who he is exactly, just that he looks faintly like her. Aside from that, all she knows is that he is the reason for her collapse. Making some other connections and assumptions with her faint memories, she leaves the structure, believing the person doesn't know that she's still alive, and thinking about ways to fight them off in case they find out she survived. She spends a lot of her time trying to learn to survive in the world. Soon she discovers that she is "sick", which is what she assumes to be a poison or venom that the person from her memories gave her. In learning this, she actively seeks him out after a while. Though she believes she's poisoned, it's actually her primary structure slowly declining. (She is also unaware that she is actually the structure itself, not the puppet.) As well as this, some others outside send out a few overseers to check on her. Without communication to her, her puppet being missing, and just going off of the destroyed parts of the superstructure, she is declared as completely shut down. No one knows that she is alive for some time.

Focus:

Looks to the Moon, Five Pebbles, Seven Red Suns and No Significant Harassment

Others tba, this is a new AU, so I have no one specific yet.

[groovy-lady]

Indiana + ☆▼ൠ

Yaaay thank you!! :3

—

☆ - happy headcanon

I headcanon that Indiana is happiest when traveling the world looking for archeological finds (minus the near death experiences), when he’s writing books, and when he’s teaching about archeology. Indy is also happy later in life when he is attending church or synagogue services and when he bakes.

▼ - childhood headcanon

I headcanon that Indiana’s childhood was happiest when his mother, Anna, was alive. He has many fond memories of spending time with her and the family dog, Indiana. His mother used to read mythology books, history books, and the Bible to Indy when he was a boy and Indy has fond memories of going to church services with his mom (I headcanon Anna Jones as being a Jewish woman who converted to Catholicism after Indy was born, so Indy is also Jewish by ethnicity). Indy was devastated when his mom died from scarlet fever when he was 12. His dad, Henry Sr, wasn’t really around because it seemed to Indy that he cared more about people who were dead for 5,000 years in different countries than he did about Indy. He also has fond memories of playing and snuggling with the family dog. Indy misses his mom a lot. He also has fond memories of celebrating Passover and Hanukkah at his Bubbe’s house and helping her make Hanukkah dinner. He also has fond memories of his Bubbe reading the Tanakh to him.

ൠ - random headcanon

I headcanon that Indiana is Autistic and has Generalized Anxiety Disorder. His special interests are history and archaeology. Indy stims by fidgeting with his hat, fidgeting with his fingers, touching archeological finds, spinning his dreidel, rubbing his whip handle, looking at hour glasses, mimicking accents, pacing, hand flapping, listening to his favorite songs repeatedly, listening to the sound of fireplaces, singing (especially Ashira Ladonai), listening to songs in different languages, baking challah bread, and touching soft or tweed cloths. Indy also loves learning new languages (hence why he’s a polyglot, which comes in handy for his job). Indy’s sensory issues are scratchy fabrics, high-pitched sounds (Willie’s high screaming was sensory hell for Indy), chemical smells, and yucky foods (steak, mushrooms, canned tuna, smelly cheeses). Indy can talk about his special interests for hours (which is why he loves being a professor), but sometimes he’ll go nonverbal when he gets overwhelmed.

[lordsooga]

For the oc ask, #2 for any/all of your ocs!! The voice claim one! I'm curious

2. describe your character's voice. do they have a voice claim?

Okay so I'm definitely the wrong person to do a voice claim thing XD I never know people or their voices well enough to think of any. Maybe @chaozrael has any??? Help???

As for what their voices sound like hmmm....

Kohga (Sr.): Most of the time a sort of gravelly/husky voice that would teeter on the boarder between something teasing and something sinister. And he can very much tip the scales to something deeper and more threatening. Also a very booming voice, you've gotta command attention as Master Kohga, and this dude does not have an inside voice. (Okay I gotta admit, recently a couple of zelda VA's actually read a couple of Kohga's lines, and while I think I have a different voice in mind it was still insanely cool, and I think I should draw or animate a little thing to go with the lines they read)

Greg: The most bog standard man voice you can envision. What pops into your head first when you hear "middle-aged man? Yeah, that.

Naga: I think we described it in the fic before as a voice that sounds like its coming from a broken record, being off-putting and disjointed. They are definitely the ones speaking these words, and technically everything is said correctly but the timing and cadence is just a little off. Like, you know those birds that are really good at mimicking people's voices but you can still tell its not a person saying it? Like that. Also might hear some clicks and hisses and other various Noises from them.

Kara: I think she'd sound full and boisterous and cheerful, but gentler when she needs to be. Turns on the "you're in trouble" teacher/mom voice that will work on anyone.

Gauze: You KNOW this man's not taken care of himself, and you can hear it in his voice. Rough, scratchy, and thick like he hasn't slept in a week because he hasn't. Perpetually sounds like he's just on the verge of getting sick.

Shok: You know what, fuck it. When I did his ref his body was based on mine so I think he'd sound similar to me. But sweeter in a genuine way, melodic, and less monotone. As for what I sound like? I do not know.

Hiran: He's HUGE. I think his voice has to be deep just based on size alone. But surprisingly gentle and quiet. He CAN project his voice if he needs to, he used to teach a bunch of teenagers after all. But in general very measured and calming to listen to.

Maro: Yappy little dog bark bark bark

Kohga (Sr. Sr.): I think Kohga gets the threatening, gravelly voice from her. Deeper and a bit androgynous. But if she's screaming it gets higher and shriller.

[hara-hana]

For linen, I love Fabric-Store.com. All their linen is not scratchy, and their doggy bag/remnant sales are great.

If you are anywhere near Minneapolis, go to SR Harris. They don't ship but they have tons of natural fiber fabric for damn good prices and you're saving fashion fabric from a landfill.

So my sister wants to start sewing more, because

a. She’s 5′ 11″ and can never find pants long enough for her legs or shirts long enough for her arms.

b. She hates synthetic fibers as much as I do and it’s difficult to find natural fiber clothes that aren’t made of cotton

c. She’s a biologist and would physically fistfight microplastics if given half a chance

So her gift from mom and dad for her birthday was a sewing machine. Not a super expensive one but a good solid serviceable one.

And recently she asked “So where do I GET wool or linen and thread that isn’t polyester” and mom was like ‘go ask your sister’

And I, of course, crashed into the group text like “GET A PEN I HAVE WEBSITES FOR U” and honestly I’m thrilled about this

[eugene114]

ir·ri·ta·ble  [’irədəb(ə)l] ADJECTIVE

having or showing a tendency to be easily annoyed or made angry:  irritable

SIMILAR: bad tempered  irascible tetchy testy touchy scratchy grumpy grouchy moody crotchety   cantankerous curmudgeonly ill-tempered ill-natured                  illhumored peevish cross fractious disagreeable pettish crabbed crabby waspish prickly peppery crusty splenetic shrewish short-tempered        hot-tempered quick-tempered dyspeptic choleric bilious liverish cross-grained in a (bad) mood having gotten up on the wrong side of the bed   as cross as two sticks

#1 Flies, Irritants, What Ticks You Off? (rate this sermon) | 1,912 views

Contributed by Wade Martin Hughes, Sr on Jun 27, 2020

Scripture: Ecclesiastes 10:1, 2 Corinthians 4:16-18, Philippians 4:11-13

Denomination: Assembly Of God

Summary: Do little things tick you off? What irritates you will tell a lot about you. This is part one, I use a fly swatter and rubber flies. We will address dead flies in the ointment in#1 and #2.

# 1 IRRITATION, SHOW ME WHAT TICKS YOU OFF?

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By Wade Martin Hughes, Sr. Kyfingers@aol.com (Two parts)

I have a fly swatter and I am constantly swinging it to the point of frustration. I also have several rubber flies.

I would like to thank Phil Walton for the fodder for this lesson. Thank you Phil.

HAVE YOU EVER FOUND OUT HOW IRRITATING AND FRUSTRATING A FLY CAN BE?

FLY: a two winged, six legged insect. Goes through complete metamorphosis, egg, larva (maggot, will eat on anything), adult fly. Flies often travel in groups we call: SWARMS. * Irritate: aggravation, frustration, causing trouble, difficult, to provoke impatience, anger or to displease; annoy, bother, bug, often by repeated acts, quick brief attacks, source of vexation, nuisance.

Ecclesiastes 10:1 Dead flies cause the ointment of the apothecary to send forth a stinking savour: so doth a little folly him that is in reputation for wisdom and honour. (To be addressed in part #2)

YOU DON’T KNOW HOW BAD LIFE CAN BE? I HAVE A ROUGH TIME? THE DEVIL IS ALWAYS ON MY BACK? LIFE AT BEST IS LUMPY?

HEY, ARE YOU HAVING A GOOD DAY? Me: A GOOD DAY? What shall I say? I have a FLY SWATTER in my hand. These flies are a BIG IRRITATION TO ME? Swing the fly swatter? Get away from me you stupid fly! Swing the fly swatter? Good day? How can I have a good day with all these little irritations? Swing the fly swatter? LITTLE FLIES CAUSE ME TO LOSE MY FOCUS ON WHAT IS REALLY GOING ON? Swing the fly swatter? These little flies are such an IRRITATION? Swing the fly swatter? HOW CAN I HAVE A GOOD DAY WITH THESE CONSTANT LITTLE IRRITATIONS? IN MY BATTLE OF AGGRAVATION I FACE WITH THE FLIES, I LOSE MY PERSPECTIVE?

2 Corinthians 4:16 For which cause we faint not; but though our outward man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day. 17. For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory; 18 While we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal.

WHAT IS IMPORTANT TO ME? AM I FOCUSING ON MY LITTLE AGGRAVATIONS AND IRRITATIONS? IS THIS FLY MY REAL PROBLEM? Is this an external or internal problem? HAVING A GOOD DAY? The flies are stealing my internal joy?

Am I focusing on the TEMPORAL or on the ETERNAL? FOR OUR AFFLICTIONS ARE LIGHT?

Wait a minute, what about the 2 hour wait for the oil change? $54? The yellow engine light came on… What about the $378 Chevy repair? I didn’t even know I had intake and exhaust CAMSHAFT SOLENOIDS? By the way, do you think I made God mad and he is punishing me? BY THE WAY, ARE WE FOCUSING WRONG? WHAT WE SEE AS A HUGE PROBLEM MAKES US THINK WE WILL JUST THROW IN THE TOWEL AND QUIT? IS THIS A QUITTING PROBLEM? OR IS THIS A LIGHT AFFLICTION? IS THIS A FLY IRRITATING ME? OR IS THIS A REAL PROBLEM? Show me what ticks you off and I will tell you what makes you tick!

AM I HAVING A GOOD DAY? LET US ASK PAUL IF LIFE CAN BECOME LUMPY? HOW ABOUT FLIES? IS THIS AN IRRITATION OR A BIG PROBLEM? PAUL EXPLAINS THE DIFFERENCES IN IRRITANTS AND REAL PROBLEMS… LISTEN TO REAL PROBLEMS?

2 Corinthians 11:23 Are they ministers of Christ? (I speak as a fool) I am more; in labours more abundant, in stripes above measure, in prisons more frequent, in deaths oft. 24 Of the Jews five times received I forty stripes save one.

25 Thrice was I beaten with rods, once was I stoned, thrice I suffered shipwreck, a night and a day I have been in the deep; 26 In journeyings often, in perils of waters, in perils of robbers, in perils by mine own countrymen, in perils by the heathen, in perils in the city, in perils in the wilderness, in perils in the sea, in perils among false brethren; 27 In weariness and painfulness, in watchings often, in hunger and thirst, in fastings often, in cold and nakedness.

PAUL HAVE YOU FACED THEM IRRITATING BITING FLIES?

• 1. Beaten with many stripes. 2. Locked up prison.

• 3. Left for death. 4. 235 stripes with a whip.

• 5. 3 times beat with a rod. 6. Stoned to death.

• 7. 3 times ship wrecked. 8. Almost drowned.

• 9. Robbed by cruel men. 10. In trouble by my own.

• 11. In trouble by heathen and strangers. 12. In perils in the wilderness.

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Scriptures: 1 Peter 4:12, 2 Corinthians 11:23, 2 Corinthians 4:16, 2 Corinthians 4:16-18, Acts 9:15, Ecclesiastes 10:1, James 1:2, Philippians 4:11, Philippians 4:11-13, Psalm 118:24

[spockvarietyhour]

[cats-thoughts]

ivory vibes

okay no no no hear me out. Rain Paris' cover of I Am Not Woman I'm A God is such an Ivory song. no no just listen to it trust me. it's so brain scratchy. this is me trying to get u to listen to the song btw its good. but no /srs its a very Ivory song!!!!!! she is a woman tho shes the most woman if I were a woman i would aspire to be like Ivory. She's also a god tho i don't make the rules (that's a lie I do please listen to the song its so HJSGHJS Rain Paris is awesome)

god i wish I could animate anjkshbhs i would animate an ivory fight scene to Rain Paris SO FAST you don't understand

unrelated ive had the song on loop for like an hour or two now its still soooo brain scratchy,,,,

[one-boring-person]

Okay so request~~~~

So at the end of last blood, he never stays at his ranch. He tells the aunt “Idk. I’ll move around, like always.” And then proceeds to destroy his home and land beyond repair, you know that story i wrote about picking up first blood rambo?? Well, change that to old man rambo!

What about him having rhat random chance meeting with someone like SR(from the one i wrote) and staying with them. How they take care of him without even knowing him, and how he has a chance to try out a new life away from war and what he was with someone who’s young and starting out on their own ambitions.

I could totally see him being introduced to SR’s friends as “oh, my new roommate!” And him telling SR all about vague war stories, they teach him to cook and cook him breakfast. Honestly just rambo being taken somewhere far away and nice and staying with someone who definitely has their own problems, but takes on the therapy by helping him instead.

Basically, SR is very very damaged and rambo can tell- but they’re so sweet and responsible, mature, and loyal. They take out emotions and pain through spreading love instead of war, he can’t let that go. Not now

(Hopefully that gives you ideas!!!)

I'm sorry this took so damn long for me to write, and I'm sorry that it's so bad, too, but I hope you like it in any case!😓😅

Life Goes On.

John Rambo (Rambo: Last Blood) x Named!OC (not mine)

Warnings: injury detail, death, blood

Masterlist

John's eyes are barely open as he sluggishly guides the horse beneath him further on, their surfaces dry and sore even as he blinks them. By now it's useless, the dust in the air having gotten into his corneas within the first hour of his long ride, irritating his scleras very quickly. Exhaustion has long since numbed out any pain he still feels, his eyes becoming the least of his worries as he gradually loses the sensation in his lower abdomen, where his more serious wound is bleeding profusely onto his shirt, still oozing even after fifteen hours of being left alone. He knows the blood flow isn't too bad anymore, as his hasty attempts to patch himself up have left him with a better chance of surviving, but his other wounds are slowly driving him to a comatose state. The veteran can't move his fingers properly, the digits clunky and uncoordinated as he tries to grip onto the reins, the blisters from the tough leather split and leaking as he struggles to do so. Nausea has settled into his head, his vision blurred as his strength slowly fails him - he's too old to have survived as he used to. Without his medication, John finds himself plagued constantly by flashes of past grief and sorrow, images of his dead team back in 'Nam flooding his conscience, accompanied by the beaten and bruised face of Gabrielle. 

Beneath him, the horse walks slowly, his thighs aching from the hours of riding, chafing sores lining them under the fabric of his trousers, his body slouched forwards in the saddle. Pity for the animal also gnaws at his mind, and he feels a pang of guilt as he realises that it's unlikely it will be able to carry him much further without any respite. It's head is drooped, steps slow and unsteady, panting breaths rushing from its throat in haggard bursts. If he had any energy, John would remove the tack from the horse and let it go, but he knows this isn't a plausible idea for him if he wants to survive. He owes it to Maria to survive.

His conscience starts to slip, just as the sun comes to its highest point in the sky, heat and dry air lulling him into a false sense of security as he feels his control leaving him. Unable to keep a grip on it, he succumbs to the darkness rising up in his vision, falling into it gratefully, needing the reprieve.

Vaguely, John seems to recall a car pulling up beside him, the door slamming closed as someone shouts to him, hands taking the reins from his. Gravity seems to take control, and John falls from the horse, landing heavily in the dirt, but he doesn't lie there long. Whoever has taken hold of the horse is swift to come to his aid, pulling him into their arms as they try to drag him back to their car. They're struggling, and he wants to fight back, to tell whoever it is to get lost, but he finds he can't, his throat too raw to even force a sound past, so he can only stay limp as they manhandle him into their vehicle, murmuring gently to him the entire time. 

It's at that point that he finally loses consciousness.

*

Agony floods John's body as he comes to again, drawing a hoarse groan from his scratchy throat as he jerks upwards, his instincts still ready for action even after all these years. Blearily, he blinks, hands scrambling to identify his surroundings, dull surprise dripping into his conscience as he finds a soft duvet and pillows on top of a comfortable mattress, warmth encompassing him. Frowning, the veteran pushes himself upright, ignoring the pain in his body as he does so, his hand going up to cup his wound instinctively. Shocked to find a clean dressing plastered over the ragged injury, John blinks again and takes a look around.

He's in a small room, laying on a bed in the centre, the domicile unfamiliar to him. Idly he wonders if maybe he's died and found some kind of afterlife, but a sharp stab of agony from his side eliminates this idea from his head in seconds. The room is quite comfortably decorated, designed to be cosy and close, whilst remaining roomy enough to allow for decent living space. A few photographs line the wall, accompanied by posters of movies he's never bothered to go see, having never really managed to overcome the triggers they often set off when he's not expecting them. 

Just as he goes to climb out of the bed, the door swings open, and an unfamiliar figure steps in, a first aid kit held in one hand as they juggle a bowl of water in the other. Instantly, John's on his feet, instincts taking over as he ignores the flare of agony that springs up in him as he swiftly moves over to the newcomer. In seconds, they find themselves pinned to the wall, a hand wrapped around their throat. Yelping in fear, they let go of the bowl and first aid kit, smaller hands coming up to grip his larger arm, eyes wide as they stare at him in shock, wincing as warm water splashes the two of them. 

It takes all John has not to crush their windpipe, his rational mind taking over the militant instinct as he keeps them in a threatening hold, the youth unable to move at all. A wave of nausea washes over him, and he falters, vision spinning wildly as he drops back a step, losing his grip on the newcomer as quickly as he secured it, the sudden disorientation throwing him off as he falls to the floor again. Grunting in pain, he lands heavily, the impact jarring his bones and muscles roughly. Recovering quickly, the newcomer drops down beside him, eyes widened in concern now, rather than fear.

"Are you alright?" They ask him, voice soft with worry, searching his face for any serious problem.

It takes him a moment, but eventually, John manages a response, his usually rough voice coarse and gravelly now.

"'M fine." 

They just scoff, hesitantly reaching out to help him back up again, heaving his heavy body onto the bed again. 

"You are far from fine." They point out, "What happened, you fight a war or something?"

He almost laughs.

"Something like that." John murmurs bitterly, leaning his head back against the headboard.

Shooting him an odd look, the newcomer goes and fetches the spilt bowl of water, sighing at the mess before they hold it up for him to see.

"I'm just gonna get some more water, then I'll patch you up again, that alright?" They ask him, looking somewhat cautious.

Suspicious, John watches them for a sign of deception. Finding none, he simply nods, knowing he can easily take them out if he needs to. They smile, going to leave the room, only to stop in the doorway and turn around.

"My name is SR, by the way." They introduce themself.

"John." He grunts in way of reply, watching as they nod and leave the room.

*

Two months have passed and he's no longer bedridden, the veteran able to move freely around the house, even though there's still a little residual pain, and the mental horrors he faces every night leave him drained with no reprieve. With no medication to help him, it's no surprise that John has relapsed into a familiar state of sullen silence and brooding, finding himself reminded of the things he'd rather forget every day, in everything he does and everything he sees.

SR is no exception to this: he has warmed up to them, and he somewhat trusts them, the youth having shown him more kindness than he has experienced since Maria and Gabrielle. Their only downfall is that they remind him a lot of his murdered niece, the two having very similar traits that very quickly sussed out. Childhood trauma has led them to becoming very determinedly driven and friendly, ambitious and confident in some aspects of life, whilst also noticeably damaged in other aspects, that he realises very quickly. Somehow, however, they always keep themselves afloat, and choose not to show any of the weight bearing down on their mind, as he knows it is, though he is also very swift to realise that their way of dealing with this pain is very simple; they work to make life better for others. It's visible in everything they do: cooking for him every day, caring for him in any way they can, doing their best to let him know he can trust them. 

At first, he had been somewhat cold and closed off to them, but they swiftly worked to help warm him up again, reawakening the more personable version of himself he managed to cultivate in his time on the ranch. It was nice to become a little lighter again, but his guard stayed up, and still is, though not as much as it was before. Vividly, he can remember the time he found himself trusting them further: when their friends had come over to catch up. 

Naturally, they'd all been surprised to find some nearly hostile ex-soldier residing in their friend's home, living his life out with them. As soon as they'd said something, however, SR had leapt in to defend him, and had inadvertently shown their care for him on a much greater scale than before, reminding John of what his life was like with Maria and Gabrielle. When their friends had then left, an hour or so later, he had stepped up to them and told them how thankful he was, feeling more cared for than he ever thought he would. 

Now, after weeks of being taught how to cook, and being cooked for, plus hours and hours of talking with each other as they helped each other to overcome past grief, he can very honestly say he is immensely grateful to be with them. They know more about him than he told himself he'd ever tell anyone, SR often listening with rapt attention to his war stories, eyes wide as they hear all of the harrowing details. He feels comfortable telling these tales, and they seem content to listen, so he appreciates them in whole new ways. 

And when he finally opens himself back up to physical contact, the embrace he receives from his excitable carer is only too worth it, the first smile in months gracing his lips as he does so. Life feels like it's turning on its axis again - for the better this time.