#autistic love song

[changeling6]

Changeling

I stay up late and wake up early

Just to say hello and goodbye to the moon

My wit is sharp and my eyes are pearly

I'll dance for the sky in the afternoon

I smile up at the sun in the sky

And remind myself it's a matter of time

Before I return to the world where I was stolen away

So accept me or don't, I really don't mind

But I actually do in the middle of the night

Maybe that's why I'm so tired and hopeless and in pain

But then I've taken your words and now they're mine

I'm a changeling this stuff just happens sometimes

Your forest's a playground and I want to run

Make sure to catch me before I'm undone

I'll take all your love and still decide

That I'm happy to be alone at night

But I'll peacefully sleep in your arms till the morning arrives

A changeling like me could never calm the storm inside

A little piece of my fragile soul

That the fae left for me, I'll keep it alive

In my veins, it runs with gold

But I'll make it red so I can survive

The human world is not made for me

There's nothing left to save it in time

But I can't return to the fairies

Before the ice caps melt and the oceans rise

So take my hand, run into the circle

Join my world and you'll feel alright

When you cry and your bruises are no longer purple

Maybe the sun will finally shine bright

I dance for the stars and the moon

Throughout the heartache and gloom

So I could return to the world where I was stolen away

I know that death approaches me soon

And I will have to one day leave you

And I'll still feel tired and hopeless and in pain

But then I'll take your name and make it mine

I'm a changeling this stuff just happens sometimes

Your forest's a playground and I want to run

Make sure to catch me before I'm undone

I'll take all your love and still decide

That I'm happy to be alone at night

But I'll peacefully sleep in your arms till the morning arrives

A changeling like me could never calm the storm inside

And so maybe I should let my clouds cry for once

The rain falls on my earth and the meadow erupts

With roses and lillies of peace and life

You can make a storm inside

And a changeling like me could always try

To hide my wings put a mask on my eyes

But when you look at me, I would rather die

Than ever think to hide the storm inside

But then I'll take your name and give you mine

Just as long as you smile bright

Your love is a forest and I come undone

Even when the bones in my body tell me to run

I'll trade you my love for yours and still decide

That I sleep better alone at night

But if you hold me in your arms till the morning arrives

A changeling like me could embrace the storm inside

[lesbiantism]

Autistic WWDITS fans what’s ur flavor of autism. Do u have Guillermo autism, Nadja autism, Nandor autism, Laszlo autism, Colin autism, or Guide autism.

[copia]

THIRTY-ONE DAYS OF GHOST ⛧ DAY TWO

the song that made you a fan — Spillways

“This is an elegy for the darkness that most people have inside. When you have a dam, spillways are the run-offs so the dam won’t overflow. That darkness inside us needs to find its way out,” — Tobias Forge

Job 10:1 "I loathe my own life; I will give full vent to my complaint; I will speak in the bitterness of my soul."

[lunarharp]

uhh another modern au agott follow-up. They've gotten progressively sillier

[g3othermal3scapism]

the kind of thing that makes you proud that nothing else had ever worked out

[glxdioli]

"Fate up against your will,"

"Through the thick and thin."

"He will wait until you give yourself to him."

[literallymikewheeler]

imagine having to tell these two that they’ll never be able to show their love for each other in public. having to tell them that they have to keep their love hidden from the world.

[atlas-dr0wned]

real love song by nothing but thieves makes me feel like i’m going insane but in the best way. it’s such a beautiful song, and the raw emotion in conor’s voice makes me feel like i’m a part of the song myself. the power in every ‘it won’t go away’ and honestly the entire chorus makes me feel like ascending to another dimension. it’s a song that i do genuinely think everybody should experience at least once

[atlaseclectic]

{OUTLIARS AND OVERREACTIONS (THE SONG WITH ONE NAME) MY ABSOLUTE BELOVED OUGH WHY DIDNT I LISTEN TO THIS SOONER}

[rizzzcat]

After finishing psychopomp I rushed to make fanart, awesome game, I love killing things with hammers.

[formosusiniquis]

the bells, the joy (together in darkness)

Robin Buckley & Steve Harringto WC: 11963 | T | Tags/Themes: hivemind, Post S3, Scoops Troop Friendship, Nonbinary Steve and Robin, Blink and you miss it Steddie and Buckingham pre-slash AKA It's the Stobin Hivemind fic y'all! thank you very very very much to @spectrum-spectre for beta-ing this for me!!

Steve has never done LSD before. Which is the kind of statement his father would call ‘qualifying’ and ‘implies other kinds of wrongdoing, Stephan.’ Like the time he’d said he hadn’t smoked anything other than cigarettes that weekend. Apparently the ‘that weekend’ was a qualifier that got his very small pot stash flushed, and forced him into a second transaction with Eddie Munson in as many weeks.

Yeah okay maybe there were worse things, as far as punishments go.

Qualifying or not though, Steve has never done LSD. Not after the weekend he spent reading the supposedly true diary of a supposedly real teen that had been left on his bed. Like mother, like son, his father had sneered when he'd caught Steve curled up with it, like the whole plan to keep him from becoming pot-addled and destined for the gutter, or whatever, hadn’t relied on his gossipy nature.

It was mostly stupid, the book, but Steve figured it didn’t hurt to stick to weed. The stuff about that he knew for sure was totally fake.

Except now, he wishes he maybe knew a little bit more about what LSD was supposed to feel like. So he knows how to portion out blame for his current state. It’s currently 50% Upside-Down-Shit and 40% Russian-LSD-Shit and 10% Concussion-Shit, but if he’s being fair he’s blamed the Upside Down for about half of everything that’s gone wrong in his life since 1983. He’s willing to acknowledge that maybe the blame breakdown should be readjusted for this one.

“Hey Robin?” Trauma changes people, makes you want to stay close to the people who are changed the same way you are. Robin had shown up at Steve’s house the Monday after everything, trumpet case and duffle bag in hand. Apparently, she had walked from the school where she was supposed to be catching the bus to Band Camp, like she does every year. Apparently, when you undergo traumas heretofore unexperienced by any teen ever, Russian torture and flesh monsters, it’s okay to skip Summer Intensive to move in with your new best friend without telling your parents. Apparently, if you’re the kid that the Band Person, Director, wants to keep happy because in addition to the billion and seven languages you can play any instrument with a mouthpiece -- except trombone, slide positions, Steve had pretended he knew what that meant -- then you can just leave school to deal with your ‘mall fire smoke inhalation’ at your ‘aunt’s house’ instead. Apparently this is fine and Steve doesn’t need to worry about any angry former hippies beating down his dore because ‘what they don’t know won’t hurt them.’

So he can call out for Robin, without raising his voice because he knows she’s there. Somewhere in the house, the weight of it changed now that someone else is in it with him. He can call out even though he’s pretty sure she’s holed up in his Mom’s library on the ground floor, because he can feel her in the back of his brain and he knows she’ll hear him.

Drifting in an unfocused middle distance, he can imagine Robin. Curled up, she knows she’s been called for but isn’t in any hurry to comply, Steve will wait. He's fine with waiting, at least for the five minutes it will take for her to finish her chapter. He can see her, slotting her bookmark in place and sitting up straight for the first time in hours. She stretches, uncurls from the window seat that Steve also favors, gently sets the book down before letting a foot dangle and brush the floor to actually stand. And she leaves the library. She starts to feel closer, her presence looming stronger in his brain and Steve aware of himself in his own body. Then he hears her feet on the stairs.

“What is it, Dingus, did you know your Mom has a whole collection of French books? I’m in the middle of a bunch of lesbian short stories.”

“Yeah, she speaks it, not sure why.” He answers absently, “Have you ever done LSD?”

“I’ve had half a pot brownie and gotten way too high before.”

That’s not really the same thing, Steve thinks.

“I know it’s not really the same thing, Dingus, I was using it as a framework.” She flops facedown on the bed beside him, wiggling into what he’s started thinking of as her side. A lucky coincidence that she prefers to be tucked in on the side closest to the wall. Probably because she’s never seen anything burst out of one.

“Okay don’t think that, cause now I’m never going to be able to sleep again, I don’t think you’ve got enough space for us to pull your bed into the center of your room.”

He can see the way she imagines it. His bed, an island in the center of the room floating in a sea of plaid. Something about it is even more unnerving than if it stayed up against the wall.

“Not a good look.” He doubts anything will come from the walls again anyway, the Upside Down has proven to be surprisingly adaptive; it doesn't seem to attack in the same way twice. It makes it harder to be prepared, but he’s less worried about not being able to protect Robin in the middle of the night.

“Savior complex. Your mom has psychology books down there too. What does she even do?”

“Reads mostly. Do you think there’s anything down there about LSD?” He doesn’t think this is normal.

“Nice leap, Steve, I don’t think there are many drugs that link your brain with your coworker.” She says coworker, but he feels friend. Even that concept isn’t enough to describe the depth of warmth and affection that he feels wash over him as she thinks.

He lets the silence hang for a second, thinking but not sure what yet. His thoughts are slower to arrive and more jumbled in these early days post-concussion. His right hand curls, his fingers flex. First and third finger tap, then one and two, then none, one and two, and two, and none.

Robin’s knee jostles the bed as her leg bounces just a little.

“I think something else happened to us.”

“Wondered how long I’d have to tap your fingers for you before you got there with me.”

Read the rest on AO3

[spookberry]

A sweet boogey-monster that lives in your dreams ~🎶

[autumnoakes]

me @ characters who were trained to be not much more than a weapon from a young age

(id: a quick drawing of a person holding what looks like a toy between very sharp teeth. their eyes are red and they're panting. they then start shaking their head viciously and are nothing but a blur)

[dont-hug-me-its-yuri]

Day 29 and 30 for dhmis oddtober: Happy and Creativity!!

(@persy-r-bozo)

[peninsulaisms]

it’s happening to everybody

[very-gay-poet]

When she flirts back:

(ID/ That one Nightmare before Christmas scene where Jack is trying to work out Christmas decorations with the subtitles "Interesting reaction...But what does it mean?" /end ID)