#could stare at it for way too long

[staycalmandhugaclone]

... I haven't done a sensory overload fic yet

From my Star Wars/ Bad Batch Headcannon List...

Every so often, I go through my Headcannon notebook for all my fandoms and my original works.

(Which begs the question...can you have headcanons for worlds and characters that you create yourself?....down the rabbit hole I go!!)

And, I remember one that I wrote for Hunter based on the image below.

Hunter likes to be put into a bacta tank to help deal with his sensory overload or whenever he's experiencing overstimulation.

The sensory deprivation really helps to relax him and steady his senses.

The longest he's ever been under, about an hour, shortest, about 20 minutes. Sometimes sleeping in one is the best rest he'll get in a week.

In or out of a tank, he still dreams, and his brothers are always there before he goes under and right when he comes out. 🩵

Fanfic writers, go and have fun with this idea if you wish.

Image by: @bbqfish

[front-facing-pokemon]

[angelpuns]

Ah yes

Greif and sadness and loss and heartbreak and-😭😭😭😭😭😭

haha yeah, all those things :D they're definitely feeling em

[lunarharp]

:')

[toffeebeantable]

Its been 2 years since I’ve joined this fandom. Thank you Mob Psycho for so much, and thank you Reigen for dragging my ass into this fandom

Alternate versions under the cut

I really like him with lineless hair the most

[acourtofquestions]

Rowaelin Chapter 41 Kingdom of Ash:

She'd rebuild it—what she had been.

Perhaps one last time, perhaps only for a little while, but she'd do it. If only for Terrasen.

Rowan swooped from the mast, shifting as he reached her side at the rail. He surveyed the night-black sea beyond them. "You should rest." She slid him a glance. "I'm not tired." Not a lie, not in some regards. "Want to spar?" He frowned. "Training can start tomorrow."

"Or tonight." She held his piercing stare, matched his dominance with her own.

"It can wait a few hours, Aelin."

"Every day counts." Against Erawan, even a day of training would count.

Rowan's jaw tightened. "True," he said at last. "But it can still wait. There are ... there are things we need to discuss." The silent words rose in his animal-bright eyes. About you and me.

Her mouth went dry. But Aelin nodded In silence, they strode into their spacious quarters, its only decoration the wall of windows that overlooked the churning sea behind them. A far cry from a queen's chamber, or any she might have purchased as Adarlan's assassin.

At least the bed built into the wall looked clean enough, the sheets crisp and stainless. But Aelin headed for the oak desk anchored to the floor, and leaned against it while Rowan shut the door.

In the dim lantern light, they stared at each other.

She'd endured Maeve and Cairn; she'd endured Endovier and countless other horrors and losses. She could have this conversation with him. The first step toward rebuilding herself.

Aelin knew Rowan could hear her thundering heart as the space between them went taut. She swallowed once. "Elide and Lorcan told you... told you everything that was said on that beach."

A curt nod, wariness flooding his eyes. "Everything that Maeve said." Another nod.

She braced herself. "That I'm-we're mates."

Understanding and something like relief replaced that wariness. "Yes."

"I'm your mate," she said, needing to voice it. "And you are mine."

Rowan crossed the room, but halted a few feet from the desk on which she leaned. "What of it, Aelin?" His question was low, rough.

"Don't you..." She scrubbed at her face. "You know what she did to you, to ..." She couldn't say her name. Lyria. "Because of it."

"I do know."

"And?"

"And what do you wish me to say?"

She pushed off the desk. "I wish you to tell me how you feel about it. If…"

"If what?"

"If you wish it wasn't so."

His brows narrowed. "Why would I ever wish that?"

She shook her head, unable to answer, and stared over her shoulder toward the sea.

It seemed like he would close the distance between them, but he remained where he was.

"Aelin." His voice turned hoarse. "Aelin."

She looked at him then, at the pain in his words.

"Do you know what I wish?" He exposed his palms, one tattooed, the other unmarked. "I wish that you had told me. When you realized it. I wish you had told me then."

She swallowed against the ache in her throat. "I didn't want to hurt you."

"Why would it ever hurt me to know the truth that was already in my heart? The truth I hoped for?"

"I didn't understand it. I didn't understand how it was possible. I thought maybe ... maybe you might be able to have two mates within a lifetime, but even then, I just ….." She blew out a breath. "I didn't want you to be distressed." His eyes softened. "Do I regret that Lyria was dragged into this, that the cost of Maeve's game was her life, and the life of the child we might have had? Yes. I regret that, and I wish it had never happened." He would bear the tattoo to remember it for the rest of his days. "But none of that was your fault. I will always carry some of the burden of it, always know I chose to leave her for war and glory, and that I played right into Maeve's hands."

"Maeve wanted to ensnare you to get to me, though."

"Then it is her choice, not yours."

Aelin ran a hand over the worn wood of the desk. "In those illusions she spun for me, she showed me variations on one more than all the others." The words were strained, but she forced them out. Forced herself to look at him. "She spun me one dreamscape that felt so real I could smell the wind off the Staghorns."

"What did she show you?" A breathless question.

Aelin had to swallow before she could answer. "She showed me what might have been—if there had been no Erawan, if Elena had dealt with him properly and banished him. If there had been no Lyria, none of that pain or despair you endured. She showed me Terrasen as it would have been today, with my father as king, and my childhood happy, and..." Her lips wobbled. "When I turned twenty, you came with a delegation of Fae to Terrasen, to make amends for the rift between my mother and Maeve. And you and I took one look at each other in my father's throne room, and we knew."

She didn't fight the stinging in her eyes. "I wanted to believe that was the true world. That this was the nightmare from which I'd awaken. I wanted to believe that there was a place where you and I had never known this suffering and loss, where we'd take one look at each other and know we were mates. Maeve told me she could make it so. If I gave her the keys, she'd make it all possible." She wiped at her cheek, at the tear that escaped down it. "She spun me realities where you were dead, where you'd been killed by Erawan and only in handing over the keys to her would I be able to avenge you. But those realities made me ... I stopped being useful to her when she told me you were gone. She couldn't get me to talk, to think. Yet in the ones where you and I met, where things were as they should have been ... that was when I came the closest."

His swallow was audible. "What stopped you?"

She wiped at her face again. "The male I fell in love with was you. It was you, who knew pain as I did, and who walked with me through it, back to the light. Maeve didn't understand that. That even if she could create that perfect world, it wouldn't be you with me. And I'd never trade that, trade this. Not for anything." He extended his hand. An offer and invitation.

Aelin laid hers atop his, and his callused fingers squeezed gently. "I wanted it to be you," he breathed, closing his eyes. "For months and months, even in Wendlyn, I wondered why you weren't my mate instead. It tore me up, wondering it, but I still did." He opened his eyes, and they burned like green fire. "All this time, I wanted it to be you."

She lowered her gaze, but he hooked a thumb and forefinger around her chin and lifted her face.

"I know you are tired, Fireheart. I know that the burden on your shoulders is more than anyone should endure." He took their joined hands and laid them on his heart. "But we'll face this together. Erawan, the Lock, all of it.

"We'll face it together. And when we are done, when you Settle, we will have a thousand years together. Longer."

A small sound came out of her. "Elena said the Lock requires—"

"We'll face it together," he swore again.

"And if the cost of it truly is you, then we'll pay it together. As one soul in two bodies.

Her heart strained to the point of cleaving. "Terrasen needs a king."

"I have no intention of ruling Terrasen without you. Aedion can have the job."

She scanned his face. He meant every word He brushed the hair from her face, his other hand still clasping hers to his chest, where his heart pounded a steady, unfaltering rhythm.

"Even if I had my choice of any dream-realities, any perfect illusions, I would still choose you, too."

She felt the truth of his words echo into the unbreakable thing that bound their very souls, and tilted her face up toward his. But he made no move beyond it.

She frowned. "Why aren't you kissing me?"

"I thought you might want to be asked first."

"That never stopped you before."

"This first time, I wanted to make sure you were ... ready." After Cairn and Maeve. After months of having no choices whatsoever.

She smiled despite that truth. "I'm ready to be kissed again, Prince."

He let out a dark chuckle and muttered, "Thank the gods," before he lowered his mouth to hers.

"You're my mate." Her words were a breathless rush. "And I am yours."

The world might have been burning around them for all she cared, all he cared, too.

"Together, Aelin," he promised, and she heard the rest of the words in every place their bodies joined. Together they would face this, together they would find a way.

Together we'll find a way, their mingling breaths, the crashing sea, seemed to echo.

Together.

[sinni-ok-sessi]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love ❤

(💜💜💜)

at first I was like 'lol have I even written five fics?' but no, I have written a whole 23 at this point, yay me

these are ordered by recency rather than favoritism necessarily but:

the future moves under our feet (Nirvana in Fire, 12k, rated T, LC/MCS/XJY) - there are definitely bits of this I wish I could do a more skilful job with, but also I'm really pleased with a lot of the conversations here. The LC/MCS exchanges in particular gave me such joy to write, and I love these characters so much that writing them was just me typing a line and then giddily grinning to myself, or occasionally tearing up. You know, the usual NiF fic experience.

Make a Mercy Out of Me (The Disguiser, 2k, rated E, ML/MC) - I went mildly insane after episode 23 and wrote this in a feverish daze. I am not one of this world's natural smut writers, but as this caters to Me, Personally, I remain quite pleased by how it turned out

Breathe in For Luck (Mysterious Lotus Casebook, 8k, rated T, LLH/various) - sometimes a fic just happens to you, and that was the case here. I had one night of insomnia, wrote most of the first chapter, and then basically did nothing else with my free time for the next week. I love writing conversations in which everyone is feeling a lot and not saying it, or expressing it sideways, and I also love characters who are so blunt it hurts, so I had a great time with some of these chapters.

And Green the Ground Below (The Untamed, 6k, rated G, LXC & WN) - I'm not sure how well the horticultural elements stand up here, but as a meditation on grief and guilt and learning to be alive when you're not sure you want to be, I'm very proud of it.

The Winding Roads, They Led Me Here (The Bletchley Circle, 1k, rated G, unrequited Millie/Susan) - another one I wrote in a state of feverish possession. I don't think I've written anything else in the 2nd person before or since, but I think it really works here. (I can neither confirm nor deny that this fic was me processing Some Stuff about an unrequited crush of my own, but I think this stands as both cathartic and quite good in its own right.)

[dreamofmourning]

i’m kind of inconsolable over opening a poem with the direct address “Difficult friend,”

[daybreakrising]

HEADCANONS - BLADE & Y.INGXING

i've wanted to address this for a while because whilst these two identities are completely separate, they are also not at all separate and i wanted to touch on the ways y.ingxing lingers like a shadow within blade & what that means

THE MORTAL

the main contrast i hc between the two is that where blade is characteristically more introverted, y.ingxing was extroverted. he wasn't always, but he grew into it as he aged. his lore states:

"...though y.ingxing was a shy boy in his youth, he became more confident as he grew up, and was described to be an arrogant man by many..."

so, to borrow the overused phrase, he came out of his shell and grew into a more confident, more extroverted personality.

and to focus on that last bit for a second, he was seen as arrogant by many - i have taken this to mean y.ingxing was a proud man as well as a confident one. this is a man who knew he was good at what he did and wasn't afraid to show it. add to that the varying status of the company he later keeps, it's not surprising he might have been considered arrogant. he was, after all, a member of the high cloud quintet.

THE IMMORTAL

the events of the sedition obviously changed many aspects of the man that was y.ingxing, and the traumatic repetitive deaths at j.ingliu's hands, combined with the ever-present threat that is mara, stripped away many of the aspects of his personality alongside his humanity. the man that y.ingxing had been was buried deep, shut away, never to see the light of day again.

or was he?

because there are still hints of that man within blade, and those who are close to him (especially those who knew y.ingxing) will see glimpses of him from time to time. the confidence that blade exudes, for example, is all y.ingxing. the glimpses of humanity as he is gradually, so gradually, reminded that he is not just a weapon - that is y.ingxing. when he smiles - and i mean a true, genuine smile, not a manic, mara-driven grin - it is y.ingxing who is smiling through blade's facade.

CAPACITY TO HATE; CAPACITY TO LOVE

this is a key one. an important aspect of both blade and y.ingxing. herein lies another of their greatest contrasting traits: blade is filled with hatred; y.ingxing was filled with love. love for his craft, love for the people he cared for, love for life, and yes, even love for himself.

and this, by extension, is the thing that binds them together - because in order to hate with such ferocity, one must also be able to love in the same degree. and whilst this is certainly an emotion blade does not display (or feel) too easily or readily, he inherently has the capacity for it. that he can feel such seething, bitter hatred is rooted in how deeply, achingly fiercely y.ingxing was able to love.

y.ingxing is blade's humanity. blade is the weapon; an identity crafted to suit his new existence, to separate who he was from who he is. but y.ingxing is still there. he cannot separate himself entirely from who he was (and nor, i think, does he want to).

and this shadow of who he was remains a distant echo both for the sake of his sanity (y.ingxing is too tightly woven into memories that trigger the mara; too dangerous to hold too close), and because blade has forgotten what it is to be human. his new identity is so rooted in being a weapon, in being a tool, something of use, and it has been so long now since he was y.ingxing (700+ years) that he has simply... forgotten.

blade will never again be y.ingxing - that is impossible, even if he would wish for it. too much has changed, he is too different from the man he was, and there is no going back. but he is relearning his humanity little by little, and he is discovering that it means something different to him now than it did before. he may never be him again, but y.ingxing will always be a part of him, will always influence his emotions and his actions.

he will always be y.ingxing at heart, if not in mind.

[abnormalpsychology]

thrilling sequel to my poll from back in January

[glowingreverie]

the past two days, i've just been watching mukbangs

[icewindandboringhorror]

this is not the exact one I watched but I saw one of these "dish scape" things at someone's house who actually has TV (like they pay for dish/cable instead of just watching stuff online) and I think they're meant to be relaxing atmospheric stuff that you mostly ignore, but I sat there for 35 minutes watching absolutely engrossed.. further proof that I genuinely think my brain is incapable of experiencing boredom lol..

[burstingsunrise]

[the-trans-dragon]

.

[ectoplasmer]

every time someone brings up how the yamis are supposed to be the “darker half” of their host and how they are meant to reflect/act on their deepest desires/thoughts/etc i think of monster world and just. crumble

[mistyycowoa]

EVERYONES SUFFERING WITH ME. REBLOG

Childhood can be scary.

A collection of some of my hand-drawn horror looping animations!