#does autism give you these powers

[floralbonus]

There’s a song that my brain has dedicated to Dazai which I also listen to casually, so every time I happen to turn on the playlist it’s in, I’ll just be going about my business and suddenly the dazai song will come on and I’ll have to momentarily stop everything I’m doing to hold my head in my hands and feel the entire spectrum of human emotion in the course of a couple minutes. Then I will go back to my life and pretend nothing happened.

[chailatteinasparklyyellowmug]

I finished this yesterday at 12:28, my first time crocheting with an alfa pattern

I finished this one yesterday at 17:37

[cursed-spirit-manipulation]

thinking Abt Suguru autism and struggling bc I have forgotten 1. Everything Suguru has ever done 2. Every symptom of autism ever and then I remembered Suguru fucking. Knows every curse he's swallowed. And it's like y'know what maybe I don't have to make an airtight case for this

[dravidious]

You're more amazing than shot-for-shot remakes

Speaking of movies I went to see a movie called Ezra about a kid named Ezra with autism and his dad, and very early on I thought to myself "they better not make Ezra become less autistic as character development." They did that. The movie even made a whole thing about how they can't just make Ezra become normal and how they have to accept Ezra as he is. But apparently they just needed to find the right person to teach him to hold eye contact and hug people. They even show that Ezra still doesn't like touch, but he bravely pushes aside his discomfort and hugs his parents, because apparently a son that a mother can't hug is just no good.

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

...ready for it? - j.l. howlett

a/n: hi! here's a full version of a blurb i wrote a few days ago that got so much love so quick that i wanted to give yall a full version! the beginning is literally just the blurb but after that it's all new! like many of you wolverine brainrot has hit me hard, so here's graphic smut about him. leave a comment or a reblog if you enjoyed :) warnings: SMUT!!!!! some dumbification, use of pet names, reader is fem, reader is a mutant and able to control plants, lots of cursing, lots of grotesque fliritng/fantasies, some soft moments, some sort of primal sex, oral (fem receiving), some of the setting is probs inaccurate but whatever. let me know if i missed any big ones!! word count: 4.9 k summary: well, you had to find some way of entertaining yourself at charles xavier's school for gifted youngsters. and you have always liked an emotionally unavailable, absolutely hung, challenge. pairing: logan howlett x mutant!reader now playing: ...ready for it? - taylor swift "in the middle of the night, in my dreams/you should see the things we do, baby/in the middle of the night in my dreams/i know i'm gonna be with you, so i take my time"

You are absolutely enthralled with him. It’s actually sort of pathetic how your fingers twitch at the sight of him, at how the mention of his name or god forbid the sound of his voice makes your head snap up, attention deficit disorders be damned!

Funnily enough, you had no damn interest in Xavier’s stupid mutant school, because to you, you’re not an outsider because of your mutant abilities (that don’t have much of a physical apparition, at least one that you can’t hide) but because there’s never been much of a place for you to fit in.

But, you were behind on rent and of course, you fucking hate your job, so why not? You’d be able to be slightly less of a freak, and you’d get free room and board in the process! (Where Charles gets all of his money, you do not know.)

And because you’re a little older, Charles doesn’t force you to sit in a class room to learn about basic arithmetic and grammar lessons, so you really only do some training around three times a day, you have your own room (with a dusty box under the other bed, you also suspect your room used to be the ‘sex’ room) and you have the weekends off.

So for a twenty something year old with few ambitions, the social skills of a Martian with autism, and a huge crush on every older emotionally unavailable man you meet, it’s a pretty good set-up.

You’re waiting for time to pass in the garden, just reading a rather interesting book that Charles had recommended after he noticed you needed something to pass time before you started making bad decisions.

You hear his heavy footsteps on the gravel before you see him. Your heart beats faster, but you will yourself, do everything in your power not to glance up at him. And you let out a breath as you succeed, keeping your head down.

“In your natural habitat, are you, spitfire?” Your head darts up to him—There’s no way he isn’t talking to you, you know you’re the only one in this garden. And you can see his lips twitch up and you want to crawl out of your skin!

“My-My natural habitat?” You laugh, closing the book you’re reading because your attention is locked to him now.

“Yeah, seems like it.” He saunters on up to you and sits on the bench next to you.

And let’s make something very clear—

Logan Howlett does not sit.

This man poses, as if there’s always some invisible camera capturing every frame of movement, from the way his legs spread out, to the way his chest lifts when he inhales.

Fuck, you think you might die if you can’t suck him off right now.

“And what exactly is my uh.. habitat?” You question.

He takes out his lighter and a cigar, placing the cigar in his mouth as he gestures to the space around the two of you, lighter in hand.

“A garden.” He says, matter of facility, as his voice is muffled only the slightest bit by the cigar.

And you just sort of look at him before asking,

“Oh, you enjoy being boiled down to your mutations, Claws?” You question, and as he goes to light the cigar, he smirks.

“Alright, you gotta admit though, it is cliché!”

You are absolutely in agreement, there is zero doubt you are as much of a walking, breathing, real life living, stereotype.

“It is not!” And the pair of you give each other this look, like you’re both shocked at how whiney that statement is!

“Uh-huh, sure, Spitfire.” It sounds almost like he’s purring at you.

When he lights his cigar, he’s sort of eying you for your reaction, whatever you might say.

“You know, smoking is not only bad for you, it’s awful for the environment.”

“You’re probably the most cliché little freak around here.” Which.. honestly..? Shouldn’t possibly turn you on as much as it does.

You just stare at him for a minute, and he smirks.

“Cat got your tongue?’

And maybe it’s stupid and maybe it’s immature but your hand just comes over to fiddle with the pointed part of his hair.

“We’ll you certainly look the part.” He just looks at you, and honestly? The way he’s looking at you, it’s like he’s proud of you for teasing him.

“Aw, there’s my little spitfire,” He teases, just to see how red you get. And red you are— it’s embarrassing. And here’s the kicker—You are young. Exceptionally young, and what’s insane about that? How horny it makes both you and Logan.

The idea of fucking your innocent cunt, tight and all his, drives him genuinely mad. And you are, quite literally, a whore for the idea of riding this older man’s dick. You know he’s big—sometimes you see the outerline of it when he walks away from you all huffy and puffy.

“You’re a tease, Claws.” You respond, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Says you,” he raises and eyebrow, leaning closer to you now, “You’re the one laying around in the sun, looking like that.”

“Looking like this?” You scoff. You’re wearing a muscle tee and a pair of ripped jeans, but the gaps are huge and he can see your thighs. He wants to devour you, and you would let him if he only asked.

And let’s be clear—he is fucking you with his eyes. There’s no way to go around it.

“I think you’re just.. horny.” You tease, and he just growls. Seriously, this man who is undressing you with his eyes, growls, because he does want you and he is horny!

“I think you’re onto something.” He purrs, and you want to just.. god. You don’t know how to express the pit of desire that grows in you. “I would fuck you until you couldn’t think, right here among your pretty flowers. Would you like that, baby?” he asks, his hand finding your thigh.

But you just cough on the smoke from his cigar, before frowning.

“You really shouldn’t smoke.”

“Aw, I’ll make it up to you.” He smirked. “Promise, spitfire.”

He’s very close to you now, so you take a second to just breath and you know that he knows that he’s got you—hook, line, and sweet, sweet sinker.

And then you realize what exactly it is that you’ve gotten yourself into. And what a nightmare it is—Or maybe a dream if you listen to the pathetic part of your brain, but you are into this an in a way that is concerning for your own mental wellbeing and desperately want to avoid him having all the power in this situation.

“Oh, I am sure you will.” You assure. You lean forward, plucking the cigar from his lips, and placing it on the ground, squashing it beneath your heel. With a flick of your wrist, vines and grass grow over the cigar, composting it. And from the vines, grows a small little buttercup flower.

You lean down and pluck the flower from the grass, before tucking it behind Logan’s ear.

“You should take care of that hard-on you have, Claws.” You hum, before standing up, and walking away. And for a minute, he just watches you go—partly to because you have an amazing ass, but partly because you have absolutely flabbergasted him.

And have made him want you even more.

• • •

The next time you see him is the next night, in the woods near the mansion. Because the literal sixteen year olds you go to ‘school’ with do not know how to do anything on the weekend except drink, fuck, and smoke.

Honestly, you kind of fit in great.

So here you are, nursing a mason jar of.. some fucked up concoction, and you’re not too sure what’s in it, but you have drunk two of them and are on your third. You think you might live forever, until you glance up and see Logan, in these fuck me jeans and this burnt orange flannel and a wife beater.

Instantly, you know that you’ll die tonight if you don’t have him.

He approaches you with this cocky smirk as if he hasn’t realized your intoxicated state yet.

“Now what’s a little spitfire like you doing all alone on a Friday night?” he questions, tilting his head. His smirk is deadly. And you roll your eyes.

“Here comes the big bad Wolverine, all bark and no bite.” You scoff, and his eyes flash with surprise. Only for a second, but even drunk, you notice the way his eyes shoot up in surprise.

“All bark and no bite? That’s quite the accusation.” He hums.

“Well, we’ve been.. eye fucking each other for a few weeks now, and you haven’t even kissed me yet. I get being into foreplay and edging, but holy shit, Claws, throw a girl a bone once in a while.” You scoff, and for a moment, he just looks at you.

“Are you.. drunk?”

“Do you think I’m drunk?”

“Yeah, you’re drunk.” He sighs. You respond by taking another sip of your drink, but before the bitter liquor hits your tongue, he snatches the bottle from you.

“Let me take you home.” You’re sure your eyes look like hearts, so, dreamily and a little love struck, you respond,

“’Kay.”

And he chuckles a little bit at that.

“We’re not gonna do anything, I’m just gonna walk you home, spitfire.” He starts, and your face falls a little bit, but in an effort to hide it, you respond,

“..’kay.” And he sees right through you. You’re pretty much an open book. And the alcohol doesn’t help. His pointer finger and thumb comes to your chin, and he gently rubs his thumb against your lip.

“Don’t be like that, pup. It’ll happen soon. Just not tonight, okay?” He assures.

“’Kay.” You answer softly, and you think he smiles at you but your vision is sort of blurry. Then, you blink, as a gust of wind moves through the trees, sending a shiver down your spine. He sighs, and wordlessly takes off his flannel, before wrapping it around you. Your arms slip into the sleeves, and you almost cry because it’s like, the best hug in the entire world. “Won’t.. you be cold, then?” you question, and he just shakes his head.

“Let’s get you home, spitfire.” He holds a handout to you, and without a second thought, you take his hand. He wraps his arm around you, and you lean against him like it’s something the two of you do often. If you were sober, you might short circuit. But, you’re not, so it feels right.

The walk home is quiet, but Logan’s thumb gently rubs against your shoulder. He wants to do more, but he knows he shouldn’t, since you are in fact plastered.

You ignore the giggles and whispers from teenagers making their way past you to the party or to their rooms, and you even ignore the way their giggles stop when they meet Logan’s gaze.

When you get back to your room, you take a second to lean against the door, and he takes a second to admire the way you look in his clothes.

“Ready for bed?” he asks gently, and you just smile at him.

“You’re really pretty.” He just does the half scoff-half chuckle that you’re obsessed with. Then, he wraps his arm around you again, opening the door to your room, and guiding you inside. He gets you to your bed and sits you down, before kneeling in front of you to untie your boots. “Has anyone ever told you how good you look on your knees?” you ask.

He just gives you this smirk.

“One or two pretty girls back in the day.” He says, “None as pretty as you though, spitfire.” He says, and you groan, leaning back and laying on the bed, as he pulls off your boots.

“You’re awful.” And you need him.

“Yes, I know, baby.” His voice is almost condescending, and it turns you on. But then he stands up, grabbing the folded blanket from the edge of your bed, and laying it over you. He finds his place kneeling next to you again as you stare at him, cozy in bed. His hands gently brush hair from your face. “Do you need anything else?”

“You.”

“Soon. But not yet, pup. You’re too drunk.” He says softly.

“Thanks for walking me home, Claws.”

“You’re very welcome, Spitfire.” He purrs, leaning forward and kissing your forehead gently. “I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Logan.” You mumble as you drift off to sleep. He sits there for a few minutes, just looking at you for a long time before he gets up and creeps out of your room.

• • •

The next morning, you sit in the cafeteria, drinking a large coffee, and nursing the worst hangover, possibly of your life. Made even worse by the fractions of memories about what happened last night.

You rub your eyes, flinching when you hear the clatter of a plate on the table, and someone sitting across from you. You peek through the gaps of your fingers to see Logan sitting across from you, a smirk on his face.

He opens his mouth to say something but you beat him to it.

“I hate you. Shut up.”

“I didn’t even say anything!” he laughs. But he sees how much pain you’re in, and slides two pieces of sourdough toast to you. “Truce?”

“Truce.” You agree, taking a slice and biting into it. You feel better.

And after a moment of silence, he asks,

“I’m never getting my flannel back, am I?”

Truthfully, the flannel has been folded neatly and tucked into your drawer, for the next time you need some comfort.

You tilt your head, looking right into his eyes.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

• • •

Weeks go by like this.

You spend your days either going to class or hanging out—okay, it’s more like flirting with a side of hanging out, with Logan. The pair of you become quite close, and maybe that’s why you haven’t fucked yet.

Oh, the two of you want to, and it’s obvious to everyone (Charles has called you out for being distracted more times than you can count, and you remind him not to probe your mind, and he tells you he does not need his mutant abilities to see that your thoughts linger elsewhere.) but you’re.. afraid, at this point.

Which is odd, because you’re no virgin, you know he wants you, but.. what if everything changes after that? Maybe he’ll start to avoid you. Maybe you’ll start to avoid him. And you’ve really become good friends, and don’t want to lose it.

And then, there’s the fact that half the time, he’s away on dangerous missions, and even if he can regenerate, you worry about him. But he hasn’t been on any lately, so it’s like waiting for the other shoe to drop.

You’re sitting in the garden when it happens.

He finds you, and this time, you do not even try to hide the way your head picks up and gazes at him.

“Hi, Spitfire.” He grins, and you smile a bit at him.

“Claws, what can I do for you?” And he sits next to you, and for some reason, maybe because he doesn’t say anything at first, you know that there is something wrong. And you know what it is.

After a few minutes, you glance to him.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” Your voice is quiet, as if you’re scared that if it gets any louder, everything will fall apart.

“Yeah. Charles has me going on another mission.” He doesn’t say it, but you both know this isn’t an involuntary thing.

“Cool.” You cringe at your reaction.

“I guess.” He laughs weakly, as if he knows he’s twisting a knife buried within you.

Silence fills the air. It’s not necessarily uncomfortable, but it isn’t the relaxed silence you’re used to with him. Confessions dance on the tips of your tongues, and you’re so close to saying it, that when you turn to each other suddenly, you just need to look at each other for a second.

“Be safe.” You say quietly. “And hurry back.” You request, and you try not to sound like you’re begging.

“Of course.” He says, like it perplexes him that you even have to request. “I can’t leave you here yearning for me forever, can I?” He teases, and for a moment, you have this flash of an alternate universe where he does die on this mission and you are trapped in this garden forever, waiting for him. Like a lost puppy, or worse, a lost lover. The mere thought of it fucks with your head.

“No. You can’t. I won’t allow it.” You explain, “If anything, I’m the one that should be haunting you.” He just smiles. A real, not at all awkward smile.

“I’m sure you will, spitfire.” He says, and his head comes forward so that his forehead is resting against yours.

“When do you leave?” You ask gently, and he sighs. His breath smells of mint and cigar smoke, maybe even a hint of lemon.

“An hour. I have to pack quick and then debrief.” He answers you.

And just as love struck as you were the night of the party, you answer,

“’Kay.” You smile weakly at him. And he just.. looks at you for a few minutes before sighing again. He pulls away and leans up to kiss your forehead again, before standing up. He turns a few steps away from you just to tease you.

“Don’t miss me too much, okay?” he requests softly. Before you can stop yourself, you stand up, and wrap your arms around him. He only pauses for a half a second before he returns your embrace, and it becomes apparent that you both needed this moment. You stay like this for a few minutes before you pull away.

“Bring me back a souvenir.” You try, a soft smile on your face.

“Yeah, don’t worry. I’ll bring you something great from the great city of Tulsa, Ohklahoma.” He grins.

“Deal.”

“Deal.”

• • •

For the next week, you feel like this must be what it was like for housewives when their husbands went to war. You knew all too well that that statement was extremely dramatic, but you simply cannot help yourself.

You think you might die by day three.

It’s like you’re going through withdrawals and it’s making you go genuinely insane.

You have worn this man’s flannel for almost the entire week, because at first you’re a little self-conscious of other people noticing your repeating outfits, but only at first. By day four, you have decided you don’t give a single fuck.

Day eight you’re just laying in bed, quietly making a list of all the positions you want him to take you in. It’s a long list. You’re brought back to reality by a knock on your door. You’re about to snap, knowing that you’ll tell whatever child has been sent to bother you to scram, but when you open the door, you grin widely.

Logan stands there, looking tired, but he’s smiling and holding up a shot glass that reads ‘Tusla’, and has skyline on it.

“Didn’t I tell you I’d get you a souvenir?” He asks, and you can’t help but wrap your arms around him, pulling him in. He hugs you back, making sure to squeeze you just a bit—your feet barely come off the ground.

He pulls away, and you grin up to him.

“You came back.” You say it as if you can barely believe it, and just for a moment, he feels an emotion he can’t quite place, but he ignores it.

“Of course I came back, spitfire. All in one piece too, as requested.” He grins, and you’re just.. amazed at the look of him. “What’s that look for?” He asks gently, tilting his head.

“I just..” you start.

And then you break.

You lean up and kiss him gently, those stupidly delicious sideburns making your stomach flip. He doesn’t waste time, kissing you back, his arms around your waist. After a minute, you pull away.

“Sorry. I’m kind of done playing that game of waiting for you to kiss me. I just got the first hit of you I’ve had all week, and I feel fucking amazing.” You confess, and sure, it’s not a big grand love confession with tears and poetry, but your words make him kiss you so intensely that you start backing into your room, his hands exploring your body as you tug off his leather jacket, a new flannel for you to steal coming off soon after.

He keeps kissing you as his hands come down to your jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them, before gently pushing you to sit on the bed. He kneels in front of you, and begins to tug off your boots again, then, on your jeans.

You grin.

“You know, I’m getting the oddest sense of déjà vu. Something about you looking great on your knees.” You tease, and he just tugs off your jeans in one strong swoop, before leaning in to bite your thigh. You gasp, your hands coming up to tug his hair.

Then, he begins to tug at your panties, and you tilt his head up, glancing at him.

“What are you doing?”

“Well, before I was interrupted, I was about to eat you out.”

“Wait, really?”

He blinks, confused.

“Yeah. Is that a, uh.. problem..?” He hasn’t gotten any complaints yet.

“I just.. I didn’t think guys actually did that, I thought it was just.. a porno thing.” And at this, the man who is about to burry his face between your thighs, laughs. And not just a chuckle, this man hollars. “What’s so funny, claws?” You ask, a little suspicious.

“Nothing,” he promises, “I am just going to take such good care of you, pup.”

“I’m holding you to that, claws.” And then, he leans in and begins to kiss your thighs, gently biting down here and there. Then, he licks a stripe along your cunt, and you let out this loud moan, and your hand comes up to clamp over your mouth, but he reaches up to grab your hand, lacing his fingers with yours.

He pulls away to lecture you. Lecture you. On his knees. Head between your thighs.

“Nuh-uh, I wanna hear all the pretty noises you can make for me.” Then, softer, he adds, “Never been eaten out before, fuckin’ travesty.” He mumbles, before leaning in to lick your cunt again, beginning to lap his tongue over your throbbing heat.

His nose rubs against your clit, and it’s enough to drive you genuinely crazy. You’re unsure how you’ve gotten to this point in your life without having your pussy worshipped like this, but with him around, you’re pretty sure you’ll never go another day without it.

His tongue continues to work magic on your cunt, as his nose presses against your clit, stimulating you to the point of making you see stars.

Your hands tug at his hair, and the moan that it elicits from him is enough to send vibrations through your cunt through your stomach. Your head leans back as you moan, and for a moment, you hope there is no mutant in this mansion with super hearing.

His free hand grips your thigh as he bends your leg back to get better access, as he continues to eat you out. The mere taste of you is enough to drive him crazy—He almost wants to start thrusting into the side of your bed, he’s so hard, but he ignores that urge to continue to eat you out.

“Mm—Lo, I—I’m gonna—”

He just hums into your cunt, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze of approval, before his tongue moves even faster (if that’s even possible, though, he is an amazingly surprising man), and suddenly—

You feel a release you have been waiting for weeks, and it is fucking phenomenal. And the Wolverine just licks up all your cum, even if it makes your thighs shake, but honestly, he doesn’t care and neither do you. For a moment, you just listen to the sound of your own pants.

After a minute, you are able to look at him, and he just looks up to you with the same smirk that has been torturing you for all of those weeks. And you just have to pull him up to kiss you, like it’s the only way you’ll be able to live.

As you kiss him, you pull off his wifebeater and then your hands rest on the sides of his face as he pulls off your shirt as well, before his hands begin to make quick work of his belt, wanting to skip all of the pleasantries and just fuck you.

But when he finally gets his jeans off, you pull away, and he stares at you like you’re crazy.

“What the fuck could possibly be more important than me fucking you stupid?”

“Will you just.. let me look at you?” You scoff, your eyes flickering over him to just memorize every square inch of his body. He humors you for a few minutes, standing there with his hands on hips before he leans in and cages you in with his arms.

“Show’s over, spitfire.” He purrs, leaning in to kiss you, slowly making his way closer to you so that you’re laying back on your bed. At some point during the kiss, his boxers come off, and when you feel his cock against your cunt, you moan into the kiss, and you can feel his smirk against your lips.

Oh, you could kill him. But, you suspect maybe he’ll get to you first.

After he kisses you for a few minutes, he pulls away to tell—not ask, tell you, “I’m going to fuck you now.” And you know your line.

“’Kay.” He grins at this and kisses you again, before lining himself up and starting slowly. He just has the tip inside of you, and you begin to moan, your grip on his shoulders tightening. You already feel entirely too full, and he slowly agonizingly slowly pushes into you, and he sees how his size makes your face twitch,

“Shh, shh, I know, pup. Deep breathes for me, bub,” he says softly, such a stark contract to his rough movements, as he bottoms out and has his entire cock inside of you. And he gives you a second, watching as your face relaces, adjusting to the size of him. “Okay?” He asks, and you nod.

“’Kay,” You assure, and he kisses your forehead.

“’Kay.” He responds, and before you can tease him for it, he begins to thrust into you, slowly as first, but he continues to quicken his pace. Your nails begin to scratch on his back, and he lets out this angelic moan—You must’ve died and went to heaven.

As his thrusts quicken, the lines quickly blur between quick ruts and an animalistic need, manifesting itself in the way he fucks you. You know you won’t last long, especially when his fingers find your clit and begin to rub it again.

“Fuck! Oh my god—”

“I know, baby, I know,” he coos, his free hand coming to your thigh to lift your leg up, only for better access to your throbbing cunt, “God, I love the feeling of you around me.. Worth the wait, I promise.” He grumbles, as he thrusts into you, his only goal to make you cum.

You want to respond to that—To tease him, to make him feel as shy as you do, but he has completed his goal of fucking you stupid.

All you can do is respond, “Fuck—I’m gonna—”

“I know, baby, go ahead, cum for me,” he requests softly, leaning in to press a rather jarringly sweet kiss to your lips.

As you cum around his cock, he shudders, the look of you, laying there fucked dumb, is almost too much for him to bear.

“I’m gonna fill you up, pup,” he tells you, and all you can do is moan in response, which makes him come that much closer to the edge. After a few more thrusts, with a euphoric moan that will haunt you forever, his hot cum fills you up, leaving the pair of you clawing at each other, wanting more.

When you’re both finally finished riding out your high, Logan lays next to you, keeping you close. His grip on you is tight—possessive. When you finally find your voice, you ask,

“You’re not gonna turn me into a booty call, are you, claws?”

And he laughs.

“No,” he says, pressing a kiss to your head. “You’re gonna be my best girl, Spitfire.”

“Does this mean I get to steal another of your flannels?”

“I’ll give you my whole fucking wardrobe to see how many times I can make you cum.”

[malewifesband]

i see it often that people do not see laios liking kabru, but in reality laios does like kabru! quite a lot for a guy that (from his perspective) he just met! laios forgetting kabrus exact name is not evidence of disinterest in any way--hes only heard it a couple of times, he struggles with small details (unless you want to argue laios also doesnt give a shit about marcille, chilchuck and senshi, he also forgets small details about them. if you do think this, i think dungeon meshi may be too advanced for you. stick to bluey.), and the man has autism. like near explicitly.

laios offers food from their limited supplies because kabru showed an interest in eating monsters, and makes him an omelette so he can have something to eat even though other food was already being prepared. he listens to kabrus criticism of his behavior and mindset in trying to protect falin even though she was straight up killing people, and tries to drag kabru to safety. he watches kabru defuse the situation between himself and toshiro masterfully, and confides in him how hurt he is that toshiro is so angry and how he mustve done something truly awful to upset him like that. when kabru tells him that meeting him was the best part of his time in the dungeon, laios agrees and says its the same for him (remember: laios doesnt do empty platitudes well--if he said it, he meant it).

when kabru leaves, we get three fucking panels in a row of laios staring after him, flexing the hand kabru was just holding, and reflecting on kabrus words ("next time..?")

when kabru shows up again deep in the dungeon, chilchuck is suspicious, but laios is so excited to see him that he throws caution to the wind and lets kabru hold his hand again despite seconds later crossing succubus off his list of shapeshifters that could be appearing as kabru--a carelessness around monsters and danger laios rarely exhibits. when kabru gives his warning about the canaries, laios is grateful. he notices how often kabru saves his skin

when lycion reveals that kabru lied about wanting to eat the omelette laios made, it breaks his heart because he made that with love! he made it for kabru, and kabru didnt like it, and now he knows kabru was just playing at friendship to use him. that breaks his heart, hes distraught, but he doesnt have time to be hurt about it when marcille needs his help urgently so he turns to run to her. he apologizes to kabru and tries to leave again. he isnt listening to what kabru is saying here because kabru was just revealed as a liar and because it doesnt really cohere (kabru is stuttering and speaking in broken sentences as he tries to explain about the dungeons power) and he needs to save marcille

he doesnt believe kabru wanted to be his friend, because who would? why would laios be special enough, loveable enough, to go through the pains kabru went through, just to be his friend? but when kabru makes the intensity of his desire known, laios promises to feed him again, at a proper restaurant --and again, food is care for laios, to feed someone is to love them. marcille is still his priority bc she is in real danger but he means what he says, he really does want to start over with kabru and be real friends with him

once we hit the resolution of the story, kabru near glues himself to laios, helping him and trying to cement himself as a right-hand man, and making known his intent to support laios no matter what. in the medieval manuscript style epilogue, kabru is one of two friends that stick by laios as he becomes king. both marcille and kabru become the people closest to him (besides falin of course), two friends who will always support him, always let him know when hes fucked up and theyre mad at him, two friends who he can rely on. laios did not have to accept kabru as an advisor, he did not have to ask him to stay with him. he did that because after everything, he trusts kabru now, and knows he can count on him

while laios doesnt give any big monologues about what he likes about kabru, its very clear he does, and we know what things laios values in other people. he appreciates kabrus social skills (very clear in the post canon comic in the adventurers bible), his intelligence, that kabru WANTS to be around him and understand him even though its difficult, his strength, and frankly he does appreciate his charm (three fucking panels straight of staring after him). laios really values people with specialized skillsets who are willing to tell him frankly what they think and advise him in areas he is weak in (something we see in his relationship with... i was gonna say namari but its everyone. he does this with everyone he likes. and in the resolution kabru does this CONSTANTLY he does not go a panel without giving laios his professional opinion on how to deal with people).

in conclusion: arent you hungry, kabru? let laios make something for you

[stardoodledust35]

^^^

This image continues to ring true

the mold IS a metaphor for autism

[headspace-hotel]

"New (old) perspectives on self-injurious and aggressive biting" published in Journal of Applied Behavior Analysis / Nine Inch Nails- The Hand that Feeds

I was troubled to see a trend of claiming that Autistic people who do not support Applied Behavior Analysis (ABA) are a group of "low-support-needs" autistics who are monopolizing the conversation and taking resources away from autistics with higher support needs—I think it is misunderstanding.

Individual positive or negative experiences with ABA are irrelevant here—the fundamental core of the therapy is behaviorism, the idea that an autistic person can be "treated" by rewarding "desirable" behaviors and punishing "undesirable" behaviors, and that an increase in desirable behaviors and decrease in undesirable behaviors constitutes successful treatment

In researching I found that ABA practitioners have published statements condemning conversion therapy. They refer to an unfortunate historical association between ABA and conversion therapy, but it is not association—ABA literally is conversion therapy; the creator of it used it to try to "cure" little boys that were too feminine.

ABA is considered "medically necessary" treatment for autism and the only "proven" treatment, in that it is proven to create decrease in "undesirable" behaviors and increase in "desirable" behaviors.

Undesirable behaviors for an autistic person might include things like stimming and talking about their interests, desirable behaviors might include eye contact, using verbal speech, playing with toys in the "right" way.

The BCBA behavior analyst code of ethics does not prohibit "aversive" methods (e.g. electric shock) to punish undesirable behaviors

The code of ethics only discusses the consent of the "client," not the person receiving the treatment

Many people will say "my child's ABA therapist would never make them repress harmless stims, give up their interests, use electric shocks...They understand the value of neurodiversity and emphasize the consent of the child..."

But consider...if nothing binds or requires an ABA therapist to treat stimming as important, nor restrains them from using abusive techniques, nor requires them to consider the consent of a person being treated, what protects vulnerable people other than luck? The ABA therapist still has an innately unethical level of power over a child being "treated."

Furthermore, consider: can a therapy built on the goal of controlling the behavior of a person who cannot meaningfully consent to it, especially without hard limits or protections on the kinds of behavior that can be coerced or controlled, ever be ethical?

I found many articles that discuss teaching "compliance" in autistic children, treating "compliance" as a reasonable goal to strive for without qualification...

The abstract of the above article struck me with a spark of inspiration. Biting is an undesirable behavior to be controlled, understandably so, since most would feel that violence should not be allowed. But I was suddenly reminded of the song "The Hand that Feeds" by Nine Inch Nails, which is a play on the saying "Don't bite the hand that feeds you," meaning don't lash out against someone that is kind to you.

But doesn't "the hand that feeds you" implicitly have power over you through being able to give or withhold food? In this case, kindness can be a form of coercion. Thus "biting the hand that feeds" is used in the song as a metaphor for autonomy and resisting coercive power. The speaker asks the audience if they have the courage to test the benevolence of their oppressors, or if they will remain compliant and unquestioning even though they know deep down that it isn't right.

Likewise the article blunders into something unintentionally poetic when it recognizes that biting is an innately possible behavior in response to "aversive" stimuli or the "removal of reinforcers." Reinforcers and aversives in ABA are discussed as tools used by the therapist—the presentation of a preferred food would be a reinforcer, for instance (and is often used as such in ABA).

The journal article considers biting as a behavioral problem, even though the possibility that someone may bite can never be eliminated. Contrastingly, "The Hand that Feeds" highlights the coercive power behind the ability to control your behavior, even when that control appears benevolent and positive, and argues that "biting the hand that feeds you" is not only a possibility but a moral imperative.

Consider: In what circumstances would you bite someone? To defend your own body? To defend your life? Are there circumstances in which biting would be the reasonable and the right action to take?

What authority decides which behaviors are desirable or undesirable, and rewards or punishes compliance or resistance? Who is an authority—your therapist? Your teacher? Your caregiver? Any adult? Any person with the power to reward or punish?

In what circumstances might compliance be demanded of you? In what circumstances would it be justifiable not to comply? What authority decides which circumstances are justifiable?

Can you imagine a circumstance where it might be important for a child to not comply with the demands of an adult? For a citizen to not comply with the demands of a government? Which authorities demand compliance in a right and just manner, and which demand compliance to things that are evil and wrong? Which authority has the power to differentiate the two? Should you trust them? Will you bite the hand that feeds you?/Will you stay down on your knees?

[martincrushcameback]

Haha, stupid <3

adhd run powers and autism focus powers GO. I love that it took three roos before he's like WAIT HUH?

teehee eager Martin bouncies

The immediate slouch to crouch is so fucking cute oh my gods

Also my dad was punched by a kangaroo- Martin would NOT be laughing even if it was a baby that kicked him those things are jacked as fuck.

What am I supposed to do with his deep voice huh WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO it's supposed to be silly

Chris's face here is so good and I don't know why but I LOVE it

"Probably for the same reason I don't want to carry my mom's purse." Is... is it too heavy for you Jimmy? Is her purse full of baby? Does she keep too many weed brownies in there Jimmy???

Someone get an ambulance on standby, Chris is so dead.

Cracked_ribs_incoming.png - I am starting to think that the creature power vests must have built in protective padding or his ribs would be broken like a billion times over by now.

Chris: "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Martin: "We catch the first bus out of here?" STOP IT I LOVE HIM.

"You ok Mr. Z?" Koki is SO endeared with Jimmy's silly antics and so am I.

Martin being so adhd and more interested in riding inside a kangaroo pouch than getting those keys god what a mood.

Look at him, he's perfect. No thoughts in there only bounce.

Chris about to get the shit beat out of him while Martin is like hippyhoppy happy bouncie boy wheeee!!! is so silly

Teehee smol

Do you think the mama kangaroo thinks Martin is a female because he's blue?

Literally the best screenshot get eagle'd idiot

Why he so smol huh what for <3

OK I GUESS

I feel like.... someone's bones should still be broken.

You WOULD like crazy ideas. The bouncing in this episode is animated so adorably

"It looks like he's trying to dunk him" definitely a kid's show he's actively trying to drown the dingo- oh hey Chris actually said it! They try to drown them holy cow.

I love that Martin has the little joey hunch through the entire episode. I also love that they give up getting the keys and immediately get them back.

GODS I love this episode.

[maxdibert]

Having a shitty past is no excuse for being a horrible person, and Snape was a horrible person. Snape fans always try to turn him into a tragic hero, but there was nothing heroic about him when he was just an obsessive bigot who followed a group of genocidal maniacs

Well, I think I’ve said this a million times already and explained in exhausting detail why growing up in a particular environment—lacking social, emotional, economic, or essential support—and being subjected to violence during the most crucial years of cognitive development creates the perfect breeding ground for antisocial behavior. It also makes vulnerable or socially excluded youth prime targets for sectarian groups (whether religious, political, or otherwise) that prey on their situation, offering them promises of protection, safe spaces, surrogate parental figures, or social progress. These groups actively seek out kids with emotional voids caused by dysfunctional family dynamics, minimal to no financial resources, and a profound sense that the system has failed them at every turn. They offer these kids an alternative system—one that gives them a roof over their heads, a hot meal, a place to belong, and people who won’t marginalize them like the rest of society has—at the simple price of blindly following the group’s ideology. And they do it. Of course, they do. Because what other choice do they have? This group gave them life, a place in society, and restored their status as human beings.

But since I’ve spoken about this at length before and about how Severus’s life shaped his decisions, I feel like I’m starting to sound like a broken record. So, since I’m also reading a legal ruling I need to memorize by Friday, I’m going to indulge myself and dissertate as freely as I please—because hey, if you’re going to throw hate, I’m going to grant myself the privilege of replying however I want.

Here’s a question: why does it even matter? Seriously, what does it matter if he was a shitty person? Do you know that people go to space today thanks to the work of physicists and engineers who were literal SS members? That after WWII, all the top scientists, physicists, chemists, and engineers were granted amnesty and fast-tracked into citizenships so they could work on government projects? That people working within a stone’s throw of concentration camps are the pioneers behind some of the greatest technological advances of the 20th century? And you don’t care that the products you consume are derived from the work of collaborators with mass genocide, but you’re upset that people find a fictional character interesting? I don’t want to sound cynical, but honestly, it’s ridiculous to get so morally high and mighty about a character who doesn’t exist and who followed an extremist cult for, what? 3 or 4 years tops? and then canonically worked actively to take it down. If we put Severus in a real-world, wartime context, the guy would be a literal war hero with medals to his name. No exaggeration. If he survived, he’d be recruited with a fat paycheck to work in internal affairs for some major world power’s secret projects. That’s just how the world works.

And yeah, he was obsessive. But in an era where everyone suffers at least one anxiety episode a month, where the best-case scenario is that your panic attacks don’t spiral into chronic mental health issues—can we really judge him for that? Like, most of the people I see being ultra “snater” are folks who openly declare themselves neurodivergent, and one of the common denominators of all neurodivergence is obsessiveness. All of them. Whether it’s chronic anxiety, depression, OCD, ADHD, paranoid schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder or autism. Every single one has an obsessive component. So it’s kind of ironic—and even hypocritical—for people who are themselves pretty obsessive (because let’s face it, we’re all compulsively doomscrolling here to soothe our anxious compulsions with little dopamine hits) to judge this character’s obsessiveness as a negative trait. Maybe let’s take a good look in the mirror, too.

And let me just say, no court would convict Severus of collaborating with a terrorist group. Not a single one. Impossible. Especially since he literally collaborated against said group, so any judge would happily clear him—not after the war, but the moment he struck his deal with Dumbledore. Severus is what’s known as an informant. He worked from the inside, exposed himself to greater dangers than regular agents. Legally speaking, there have been cases where people guilty of heinous crimes—including crimes against humanity—were let off because they provided critical information. So imagine someone like Severus, who, as far as we know, didn’t even kill anyone during his time in the group, willingly spilling the beans and agreeing to work as a spy. He’d be celebrated as a hero of war. Hell, they’d probably buy him a mansion in Florida if he wanted one. That’s just how our system works, and honestly, this kind of moralist posturing is pretty cringy because you’re talking about a guy who literally saved half of magical society’s asses and without whom the kid destined to save the world would’ve died in his first year at school.

You can dislike him or think he’s a jerk, but he was damn good at his job. And compared to the people he’s often unfairly measured against (Sirius, James, Remus...), he actually did something. They didn’t. Absolutely nothing. Contribution: negative one.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

Can you talk more about the fandom's ableism with Ink and Killer??im quite curious!/gen (reference to your reblog tags)

I can try, but know im not an expert and also bigger knowledgeable inks fans are welcome to chime in.

So we all know how Ink is soulless, yes? It is because of this that people take it as an excuse to demonize them and make them evil, fake, manipulative, abusive, a bad parent, a rapist—everything under the sun simply because he’s soulless, lacks empathy.

Some people claim he doesn’t feel emotions because of his soullessness all the time and the paint vials he takes are just “fake emotions,” but in actuality Ink needs those paints to function (because without them Ink becomes an unmoving husk and this makes him extremely vulnerable to being used and taken advantage of), and to feel. It’s basically medication that he needs.

Not to mention; Ink is clearly a neurodivergent character, having hyperfixations and everything. This breeds depictions of “Ink is so stupid,” “Ink is a child,” “Ink needs to be leashed and treated like an animal,” “everyone is tired of and hates ink because ink is annoying.”

You see this type of thing with Killer a lot too in his fanon depictions, and this is because it’s a pretty agreed upon headcanon that Killer has ADHD; it’s just that most people clearly don’t do any research into how Ink and Killer’s ADHD/Autism are disorders, how they actually impact them as characters and their lives rather then how they annoy and inconvenience everyone else around them, infantilize and dehumanize them by treating them like hyperactive idiotic children or animals that need to be kept on a leash—is stereotypical depictions of ADHD with the typical “hyperactive talking a lot so annoying oh my god can you just shut up?” and “can’t ever stop moving or talking” and just generally have other characters be ableist and abusive as fuck towards them both and play it off as if it’s supposed to be funny to be talked to like that just because something they have no control over was a little annoying today.

there’s no discussions or depictions how this stuff effects either of them. Killer already has a dissociative disorder and CPTSD and can’t trust his own memory, and Ink has short term memory loss so bad he needs to write things down on their scarf just to keep track of it, and yet Killer’s memory issues are completely ignored because he has to be the silly haha comedy relief that all the characters use as their punching bag and Ink’s is only ever brought up in any serious capacity to paint them as a bad parent who would forget that his children even exists.

Killer and Ink are both characters with little to no empathy for others; and this is used to demonize them, or is completely ignored by giving Ink a soul or and forcing Killer into Stage 1 as their quick fixes.

Their lack of empathy and emotionlessness is only ever brought up to use them as villains in another character’s story; which is extra fucked up when people refuse to acknowledge that Killer is a canonical victim of literal conditioning, abuse, torture, kidnapping, and literal fucking trafficking.

People are demonizing someone who is literally trapped in a trafficking ring and being sent out as weapon of terrorism by Nightmare under threat of torture, death, and replacement all because, oh. He’s emotionless. He’s sadistic. He doesn’t act like a perfect victim curling up in a ball crying from guilt every single day and why doesn’t he just say no?

Killer isn’t perfect but people like to pretend he has more control and power than he does and like he actually wants this when the man doesn’t even know what he wants because he became who he needed to be to survive. People seem dumbfounded by the concept that victims will mirror their abusers to survive and that obviously won’t make them good people, but killer doesn’t consider himself people.

It’s never brought up how Ink’s memory loss and his lack of paints making him a husk would make him very easily to abuse and use and lie to and manipulate and take advantage. It’s never brought up how Ink thinks and feels about upsetting or losing friends because he forgot their names, or their birthdays, or when they were meeting up and where, and no matter how hard he tries things just keep slipping from his mind.

It’s never brought up how Stage 2’s indifference and overwhelming apathy and dehumanizing view of himself (and others, just like Ink, who sees others as characters in a story whereas Killer sees people more like codes programmed to follow specific scripts and roles in a long series of games and tests and just not real), means he is a lot more likely to be used and abused and taken advantage of—and yes, raped, because for some reason people really really love making Killer a sexual predator as if he’s not the one most likely to be abused in that manner—means he’d likely just accept whatever someone does to him (especially if he believes they’re stronger than him) because why should he care? Nothing matters anyway. There’s no point in resisting, why bother. This is how it was always supposed to end, and nothing is real anyway. This doesn’t affect me, i don’t have emotions, im not real. I’m not a person.

The only form of control Killer would have is playing along. Acting, pretending he enjoys it and is having fun—but ultimately, he doesn’t know if he does or not. Where does he begin and the act end. He doesn’t know, but if everyone around him is telling him one thing, then it must be true.

Stage 2 wouldn’t see himself as a victim or anything that happened to him as anything particularly significant. Nightmare asks him to do something and he does it because why not is what he thinks—it’s just how it works, Nightmares stronger. He ignores what would happen if he drug his feet or attempted to refuse because to him it’s just logical that he’d be punished for that, and he likes pain anyway, so enjoying means he must’ve wanted it.

(Does this justify the people he hurts when commanded to, triggered to, provoked, or when his dehumanization of others and conditioning leads him to do pretty awful abusive shit to them out of sadism or curiosity or just needing to feel in control? No, of course not. Any of his victims are allowed to hate him or feel however they want about him.

Doesn’t mean we have to ignore that he’s also a victim and has even less control than he allows others to see or know about, and that he himself likely refuses to acknowledge or look at too deeply.)

Which is another thing a lot of people use to justify Nightmare’s abuse of Killer. That he’s masochistic and sometimes pushes and provokes Nightmare into hurting him—the idea that it’s not actually abuse because he “wanted it” and “liked it” or that he’s somehow as bad as Nightmare because “he provoked him.”

He cannot access the emotions and trauma and fear and moral concerns and safety concerns of his other Stages because that is the entire point of his dissociative disorder and his conditioning. This makes him easy to control and this how he’s survived and remained even somewhat functioning.

Not to mention. The idea that Ink and Killer need to “learn empathy” or “learn emotions” to be better or good people, and not because being in touch with emotions is an important thing everyone should learn especially victims of abuse and those with trauma and that having little to no empathy is not some moral failing on their end or says something about the type of people they are. It just means they struggle to relate to others, understand their emotions, or feel others emotions as if it were their own.

There’s also the matter of some people trying to say that because Ink is soulless he is AroAce. That is not true, is both aro/aphobic and ableist. Ink is both soulless and AroAce and these are two completely separate things—they’d still be AroAce even if they had a soul.

There’s probably a whole lot more that can be said about this, but I’ll end it right here. Others can add on or correct me.

[endless-weightless]

Nameless Ghoul NSFW headcanons

Got Ghost tickets and now I’m gonna be autistic about this band. Also kinda on the shorter side because I’m SO BUSY rn but the autism will pull me through 💪

CHARACTERS: Swiss, Rain, Sodo, Aether, Mountain, Phantom, Omega, Ifrit

TAGS: Smut, reader insert, BDSM, monsterfucking?, afab and amab!reader, lingerie, marking, switch!reader I guess?, switch!Swiss, soft dom!Mountain, mean dom!Omega

🌙Swiss

Kinky. We know this. He’s willing to try just about anything you’re comfortable with.

His personal favourite kinky things include bondage, spanking, gags, some dynamic play, marking and a sprinkle of dacryphilia.

He’s such a power switch and I will not listen to anyone who disagrees. Sometimes he wants to dick you down and sometimes he wants to be dicked down. Is that too much to ask for?

REALLY FUCKING LOUD. If you’re making him feel good he’s letting everyone know.

“Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck~ baby if you don’t slow down I’ll cum- fuck!”

Has absolutely no shame walking around covered in hickeys, bite marks and scratches.

Swiss gets unbelievably horny when you touch his horns, like something in him snaps when you touch them.

Prefers cumming on you rather than inside you, like you’re a canvas and he’s the painter.

Don’t bully him he’ll cum :(

Nah but seriously, if you call him a slut at least once and pull his hair he’ll absolutely melt.

🌙Rain

Pretty vanilla compared to Swiss, but has his kinky moments.

Prefers sex to be romantic, so expect lots of kisses and hand holding.

Speaking of hand holding, he squeezes your hand when he cums. He just loves you so much and you’re making him feel so good.

Has cried on one or more occasions. It could be because he’s so in love or maybe because he just has a really sensitive cock-

Absolutely adores fucking in the shower or even outside in the rain. He loves it when you two are both in tune with his element and it just makes him feel safe being in water.

Doesn’t let out pornographic moans but rather soft gasps and grunts and if you’re really fucking him good then he’ll start whimpering the closer he gets to cumming.

Speaking of cum, he loves cumming in you and just having you cockwarm him (or the other way around). He also moans an “I love you” when he does so.

“I love you so much darling- oh satan.”

Always looks so goddamn pretty when he’s all fucked out and exhausted.

🌙Mountain

My fav ghoul 💜

Gives me soft dom vibes, but not crazy on kink or bdsm.

He’s fucking huge and uses it to his advantage.

Likes watching you squirm when taking him. The bastard will just watch you struggle as you try to fit all of his length in you while he just sits there doing fuck all.

Loves watching you ride him. If you have tits he’s automatically hypnotised by then jiggling as you bounce on his cock.

If you get too tired or overstimulated to keep riding him he’ll instantly flip you over so he’s on top of you and he’ll just pound into you at whatever pace you need.

Mostly grunts when you two are fucking, but he isn’t shy about moaning in your ear when he cums.

So much praise. Like a fuck ton of it.

“Look at you, taking me so well. You’re doing such a good job.

If you’re ever stressed he’ll instantly suggest a solution that involves his face buried between your thighs for the next hour or so.

Endless cuddles when you two are finished. He’ll have you wrapped in his arms until you’ve fallen asleep.

🌙Omega

Good LORD those fingers.

Mean dom. So mean :( (but very rewarding when he thinks you’ve been on your best behaviour)

I reckon he’s pretty well versed in the bdsm and kink world. Maybe even to the point where bdsm is part of his actual lifestyle outside of sex.

Fucks you absolutely silly and then mocks you when you’re too overstimulated to say a full coherent sentence.

If he’s feeling too lazy to actually fuck you or he’s busy he’ll beckon you over to him and have you sit on his lap while he fingers you into oblivion or jacks you off until you’re shooting blanks.

Goes feral when you moan his name, or just say anything along the lines of you belonging to him.

Cums where he wants, as long as you’re comfortable with it.

Not incredibly loud unless you’re sucking him off, then he’s getting a little slutty because he knows how turned on it gets you.

“Oh yeah~ use your tongue just like that darling. Fuck .”

He LOVES bending you over and pounding into you until you’re crying. He’ll even give your ass the occasional slap and moan an “atta girl/boy”.

🌙Sodo

Every time you moan his full name “Sodomiser” he instantly starts panting like a fucking dog.

Gets progressively hornier the more you feed his ego.

Likes nipping at your neck and wrapping his tail around your thigh when you’re fucking.

He tries stay quiet but ultimately ends up a whimpering mess when he cums. He doesn’t even have to be subbing, he just kinda whimpers regardless 🤷‍♀️

I feel like if you were about to suck him off he’d lightly slap you in the face with his dick because he thinks it’s hot 😭

Let you use a vibrator on him one time and he came so hard he was scared to let you use it on him again. He uses it on himself occasionally though.

“Nonono wait don’t turn it up I’ll- ngh~”

Like Swiss he loves cumming on you, bonus points if it’s your chest, ass or face.

One time you pulled his tail during sex and he let out such a load and sinful moan you had to pause before going back to fucking and then teasing him because of it.

🌙Aether

He’s hot and he knows it, the cheeky bastard.

Likes it when you caress his muscles. Fair enough though, if I was that buff I’d want everyone to touch my big strong biceps-

He loves just randomly picking you up and manhandling you.

If you’re a pillow princess or prince you’re in luck because he’ll do all of the work as long as he gets to hear you whimper his name and look at your pretty face.

His favourite thing to do is to buy you lingerie and the rip it off hours later. Sometimes if he’s feeling a bit silly n goofy he’ll buy it one or two sizes too small so he gets to see your tits and/or ass spill out.

Prefers cumming in you but doesn’t mind, as long as you’re satisfied.

Can and will fuck you standing up and it’s very scary because WHO THE FUCK HAS SEX STANDING-

He’s mostly quiet, but still very verbal if that makes sense. He moans a lil and also lets out these like sighs? Idk how to explain it but just know he’s enjoying himself 😭.

“Mm you look so- fuck, good like this.”

🌙Phantom

He’s like a very excited puppy when it comes to sex. Probably would be into puppy play too tbh.

Very easy to overstimulate. Just go for a second or third round with some edging thrown in and he’s putty in your hands.

He whines, moans, whimpers, cries, you name it.

“Please, I’ll be good, I just need to cum, please.”

Doesn’t understand his size or strength sometimes. You couldn’t convince him he had a massive dick until one time when you were riding him you put his hand to your stomach where he could literally feel himself moving inside you.

Doesn’t mind whatsoever where he has to cum, just as long as he actually gets to.

He has the most sensitive tail and horns ever it’s not even funny. He could probably cum untouched if you played with them enough.

Bites a fucking lot, like damn boy calm down.

Needs praise or he might go a little coocoo.

🌙Ifrit

This man is a SWITCH WITH A BREEDING KINK.

So obviously he loves cumming in you.

Gets so unbelievably worked up when he smells you.

Likes fucking you while your in his lap, like something similar to the lotus. He needs to be close to you.

(Afab hc) for some reason he can tell when you’re ovulating and it just sends him spiralling. He’s practically on his knees rutting into the floor and begging you to let him fuck you.

This when he gets the most vocal.

“Please let me fuck a baby into you. Mm~ I’ll do anything”

Bites hard. Like it’s a problem.

(Half afab) Insists on carrying you everywhere once you two are finished. His reasoning is because he might’ve hurt your silly little human body with his massive ghoul dick (his words not mine) and because you might be pregnant!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

That's all, thanks for reading my lovelies!

[drchucktingle]

mr. dr. chuck, i'm a few months ago i told a doc of mine that i believe i'm on the spectrum (after yeeeears of considering all the reasons why i thought so) and she agreed with me. then i came to some conclusions about members of my family. then i started melting down and haven't really recovered.

i'm in my 30's, but my life feels like it's been the mistake-addled 24th year for over a decade. people, choices, wants, they feel like things that were silly blips and not of much substance. i'm tired and my body hurts, so it feels harder to get to things i need. doctors don't seem like they can be trusted because of all the other ways i show up in the world.

i'm worried about my life and my future, and it feels like my magic is gone (or that i can't touch it right now). do you have any words of wisdom for someone who found out this really big thing about themselves kind of late?

thank you.

hello buckaroo thank you for writing. first of all i will say MOST IMPORTANT thing to remember is that it is okay and valid to FEEL the way that you feel. your reaction to this news or any news really is not wrong. that does not mean you cant wish for another reaction or WORK TOWARDS another reaction, but in grand cosmic sense this is just your way. YOUR TROT IS VALID and we all have our own unique way. sometimes that path is an easy path with sunny days and smiles and a glorious view, and sometimes it is through the darkness of shadows or crawling through the old bog. we can PREFER one path over the other, but neither is WRONG.

when giving advice old chuck tries to not PROJECT what i think YOU should do because that is not really the point. this is your trot to trot and i do not think it is my place to act like some authority of your way. what chuck can do is tell you MY story of diagnosis and how it made ME feel and maybe you can take little pieces of that for yourself.

chuck learned of way on autism spectrum when i was in early twenties by doctor who said 'yes this is your way'. when i learned of my spectrum way my reaction was: wow this is very very cool i am so lucky because all of my heroes are autistic and now i am in this RADICAL CLUB. we are special and unique and DANG what a treat wish i could have a membership card in my wallet to show all my buds.

now obviously this is not everyones reaction, but as starting off point i wonder what it would have meant to my future if the news would have HIT ME IN A BAD WAY. if i would have felt let a dang robot alien who didnt belong. maybe id be swimmin through the bog ever since.

thing is I LIKE ROBOT ALIENS they are very cool. doctor did not MAKE me different, i was different already, our talks just popped a nice little name on it for me to take or leave. i took the name proudly because DATA from stars trek (certified robot alien) is exactly how i already felt and dang what a cool character and dang what a great life. so was DAVID BYRNE. so was every cool buckaroo artist that i liked. cowboys are OUTSIDER HEROES and that is how my autism makes me feel.

so like i said, i do not know about YOUR way, but MY WAY of hearing this news was heaps of joy and excitement. i will also say that it is very DIFFICULT to find this reaction later if your first leap is feeling in a sad way about it. so maybe if you want to trot back in your mind to those first few steps it would be helpful. maybe mentally trot to where you were pushed off a dang cliff and think "well was i pushed off a cliff or was i just told 'hey bud youve been floating this whole time?"'

because if youve been floating then DANG thats a lot of power. thats not falling. you can float up, you can float down, you can float side to side.

the next thing i will say AS AND ARTIST is that years of toiling and feeling aimless are NEVER actually aimless when it comes to creation. and to LIVE in a human body is to be an artist, because you are CONSTANTLY CREATING the future. when i am writing and i dont have an idea for my next book that can be frustrating, but it is also PART of the process. if i walk to the store to rustle up my mind, or wander around the park, or spend a whole WEEK feeling weird because of writers block THAT IS ALL PART OF MAKING GREAT ART. that is not wasted time. in other words, your years of toiling are not wasted time, that is just the process we all have when we are creating a future masterpiece.

[the-s1lly-corner]

slashers x autistic!fem!reader hcs if you're comfy with that!!! (idrc about the rest but please let jason and thomas be there 🙏)

Jason and Thomas x autistic!fem!reader

grrrgrr trying to speedrun writing so i can go work on other stuff but my fingers keep either going stiff or simply not following what i want to write raaaaah!! i used to be able to write like, 5-8 posts back to back but it seems currently im limited to 2 or 3 hisshiss notes: reader is fem, a lot of this is based around the admins experiences as an afab with autism, admins experience does not reflect everyones experience, something something admin headcanons both characters are on the spectrum albeit undiagnosed and likely unaware that theyre ND cws: mentioned bullying and/or ableism

JASON

doesnt mind your needs, and hes more than welcome to accommodate you and make living here with him easier for you

need your own space so you can unwind? hes already on it, just be sure to let him know if you need anything! need something to keep excess noise out, or to perhaps play music? he might be able to find a pair of headphones somewhere! can only eat certain foods due to sensory issues? hes sure he can find a way to help you!

if you ever open up to him about your struggles prior to moving in with him, hes going to feel for you... not only because hes reeling from the idea that anyone could treat you so poorly for trying to function the way the way thats best for you.. but also because he finds himself relating heavily to you-

actually him tending to you and your needs has him realizing that he hasnt really been tending to his own.. hes mostly been doing the basic "eat sleep clean repeat" cycle before you came around... he would just power through whatever else was bothering him

you both take care of each other, and in your case you help him find what works for him and what doesnt

if you ever mention any of his interests hes going to remember everything you tell him... and if it happens to be a media hes going to light up if he ever sees a camper sporting some merch for it... definitely going to yoink that to give you later

THOMAS

does his very best to make things easier for you, even helping you change up your room to better suit your needs

he doesnt really talk, but if you have an interest you want to ramble about hes going to let you talk for as long as you want! depending on what work he needs to do that day he might let you talk as he does his chores!

doesnt know anything about neurodivergency but hes willing to let you guide him so he can understand, you... may raise some internal suspicions in him that he may not totally be neurotypical

similar to jason you may end up helping him find what he doesnt like and does like, stuff that hes been ignoring and pushing to the back of his mind for the sake of keeping things running and doing what hes told

your room becomes a quiet space for the two of you to retreat to during the day to let your walls down and relax before heading back out into the world

[gallusrostromegalus]

I've always said that kubota did orihime soooooooo dirty >:( she literally has god powers and they get diminished so harshly... I've always viewed her power as her having the ability to Reject phenomena. In canon she rejects the fact that people are injured. What would happen if she rejected the fact that someone was alive? That someone was in her way? Reject the injustices that led to her and her friends' world being turned upside down. Anyway I love that your hime has the spine she deserves and I'm so excited to be completely normal about aeiwam

Some Important facts about Orihime from canon:

Orihime is the #3 student in her entire (fairly large) high school. Girl Ain't Stupid- if anything, the fact that she's wildly unorthodox in her projects and STILL pulls those kinds of grades and test scores suggests that her teachers are grading her like that because her weird-ass approaches to assignments demonstrate a thorough understanding of the material, so she may actually be smarter than Uryuu, the #1 student who gives me very strong "I'm very good at taking tests and telling teachers what they want to hear, so I can pull good grades even if I have no clue what the subject is" Vibes.

Orihime cooks weird damn food, and enjoys it. She also has strange ideas about what's cute, exceptionally brightly colored clothes relative to everyone else, and does things like get lost following dragonflies for hours on end. Screams sensory processing Weirdness to me. Maybe I'm projecting a bit here, but Sensory processing disorders come with sensory euphoria too- I get to enjoy a huge variety of strange foods and the sound of rain gives me physical joy.

Orihime's best friends* are: -The School's Self-affected "weird boy who might be a delinquent or possibly just insane" guy -A Butch Jock With Anger Issues -The Crafts Club president who has So Much Gender Happening, and also sort-of grew up in a cult -The Giant, scary-looking guy who keeps smuggling small animals into school. -A Genuine sociopath whose family probably has Yakuza Connections -An extremely powerful supernatural being who is like five times her age -Keigo. This is not the friend group of a "Normal"

Taken together, these points form a constellation of THIS GIRL GOT AUTISM. LIKE SO MUCH. LEVEL 999 AUTISM MAGE. She's full of strange joy and magnificently weird and experiencing reality four steps to the left of everyone else AND SHE IS SO, SO SMART.

So in the fic, when she sees Ichigo freaking out because Rukia has been Kidnapped back to Soul Society on Bullshit criminal charges, Orihime does what every autistic person I know does, and immediately begins drafting a Solution.

Namely She begins drafting an extraction plan. She gets slightly in over her head with details about what data they need, how much and what kind of resistance they'd be facing etc. etc. until she realizes she needs some concrete answers and, without regard to social conventions like "time" and "Personal space", more or less kicks in the door to Urahara's shop at 2AM, marches directly into his bedroom and starts interrogating him about the civil services in soul society, yes it's weird you sleep naked with your cat sir but I'm not here to pass judgment I'm here to get answers you can put pants on later.

After the resounding success of their operation in Soul Society, the hardest part when Ulquiorra comes to kidnap her and gives her the completely insane circumstances of "you will be invisible and go through walls for 12 hours, prepare yourself." is not vibrating with the absolute mania of the chance to go to Los Noches and FUCK. SHIT. UP.

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

logan howlett blurb 18+

hi hi im sorry guys this isnt awesome but i love my wolverine and maybe ill make a part two or perhaps something cool like that if ya like it! also just general warning for smut and some kinky age gap stuff! also. reader is fem and a mutant! word count: 1030 edit: you can now read a full version of this blurb here!

You are absolutely enthralled with him. It’s actually sort of pathetic how your fingers twitch at the sight of him, at how the mention of his name or god forbid the sound of his voice makes your head snap up, attention deficit disorders be damned!

Funnily enough, you had no damn interest in Xavier’s stupid mutant school, because to you, you’re not an outsider because of your mutant abilities (that don’t have much of a physical apparition, at least one that you can’t hide) but because there’s never been much of a place for you to fit in.

But, you were behind on rent and of course, you fucking hate your job, so why not? You’d be able to be slightly less of a freak, and you’d get free room and board in the process! (Where Charles gets all of his money, you do not know.)

And because you’re a little older, Charles doesn’t force you to sit in a class room to learn about basic arithmetic and grammar lessons, so you really only do some training around three times a day, you have your own room (with a dusty box under the other bed, you also suspect your room used to be the ‘sex’ room) and you have the weekends off.

So for a twenty something year old with few ambitions, the social skills of a Martian with autism, and a huge crush on every older emotionally unavailable man you meet, it’s a pretty good set-up.

You’re waiting for time to pass in the garden, just reading a rather interesting book that Charles had recommended after he noticed you needed something to pass time before you started making bad decisions.

You hear his heavy footsteps on the gravel before you see him. Your heart beats faster, but you will yourself, do everything in your power not to glance up at him. And you let out a breath as you succeed, keeping your head down.

“In your natural habitat, are you, spitfire?” Your head darts up to him—There’s no way he isn’t talking to you, you know you’re the only one in this garden. And you can see his lips twitch up and you want to crawl out of your skin!

“My-My natural habitat?” You laugh, closing the book you’re reading because your attention is locked to him now.

“Yeah, seems like it.” He saunters on up to you and sits on the bench next to you.

And let’s make something very clear—

Logan Howlett does not sit.

This man poses, as if there’s always some invisible camera capturing every frame of movement, from the way his legs spread out, to the way his chest lifts when he inhales.

Fuck, you think you might die if you can’t suck him off right now.

“And what exactly is my uh.. habitat?” You question.

He takes out his lighter and a cigar, placing the cigar in his mouth as he gestures to the space around the two of you, lighter in hand.

“A garden.” He says, matter of facility, as his voice is muffled only the slightest bit by the cigar.

And you just sort of look at him before asking,

“Oh, you enjoy being boiled down to your mutations, Claws?” You question, and as he goes to light the cigar, he smirks.

“Alright, you gotta admit though, it is cliché!”

You are absolutely in agreement, there is zero doubt you are as much of a walking, breathing, real life living, stereotype.

“It is not!” And the pair of you give each other this look, like you’re both shocked at how whiney that statement is!

“Uh-huh, sure, Spitfire.” It sounds almost like he’s purring at you.

When he lights his cigar, he’s sort of eying you for your reaction, whatever you might say.

“You know, smoking is not only bad for you, it’s awful for the environment.”

“You’re probably the most cliché little freak around here.” Which.. honestly..? Shouldn’t possibly turn you on as much as it does.

You just stare at him for a minute, and he smirks.

“Cat got your tongue?’

And maybe it’s stupid and maybe it’s immature but your hand just comes over to fiddle with the pointed part of his hair.

“We’ll you certainly look the part.” He just looks at you, and honestly? The way he’s looking at you, it’s like he’s proud of you for teasing him.

“Aw, there’s my little spitfire,” He teases, just to see how red you get. And red you are— it’s embarrassing. And here’s the kicker—You are young. Exceptionally young, and what’s insane about that? How horny it makes both you and Logan.

The idea of fucking your innocent cunt, tight and all his, drives him genuinely mad. And you are, quite literally, a whore for the idea of riding this older man’s dick. You know he’s big—sometimes you see the outerline of it when he walks away from you all huffy and puffy.

“You’re a tease, Claws.” You respond, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Says you,” he raises and eyebrow, leaning closer to you now, “You’re the one laying around in the sun, looking like that.”

“Looking like this?” You scoff. You’re wearing a muscle tee and a pair of ripped jeans, but the gaps are huge and he can see your thighs. He wants to devour you, and you would let him if he only asked.

And let’s be clear—he is fucking you with his eyes. There’s no way to go around it.

“I think you’re just.. horny.” You tease, and he just growls. Seriously, this man who is undressing you with his eyes, growls, because he does want you and he is horny!

“I think you’re onto something.” He purrs, and you want to just.. god. You don’t know how to express the pit of desire that grows in you. “I would fuck you until you couldn’t think, right here among your pretty flowers. Would you like that, baby?” he asks, his hand finding your thigh.

But you just cough on the smoke from his cigar, before frowning.

“You really shouldn’t smoke.”

"Aw, I'll make it up to you," he smirks, "Promise, spitfire."