Arry was walking around where the sun shine on the remaining town that was once full of life and many people. Now the town is empty and quiet.
Arry: ....... It's really quiet....... *He said to himself* I miss when everything was normal.......
As Arry walks around the now empty town he hears something.
"Hello?" A little voice shouted as if it was far away..
Arry stopped and then looked around as he heard the little voice. "Hello? HELLOO?" the voices shouted again.
Arry: uh.... Hello? **He looks around**
The voice stopped for a minute but once Arry was about to leave... "Hello?" At this point Arry wanted to ignore the voice but once again Arry responded.
Arry: Who is there!? *He raises his voice*
Then the voice stopped and Arry heard a little giggle "Come and find me!" Arry was a bit scared of this situation but he slowly and cautiously walked to the voice. The voice sounded young. A little girl maybe? Well the voice was of a young child. "Come and find me!" The little voice shouted as it giggled. Arry breathing was slow as he was nervous.
When he finally gets close enough he looks around and is very confused. The voice stopped and no one was there.... Or so he thought.
Soon Arry smelled something rotten and noticed more bugs were around. Once Arry got closer..... He found them
crows use tools and like to slide down snowy hills. today we saw a goose with a hurt foot who was kept safe by his flock - before taking off, they waited for him to catch up. there are colors only butterflies see. reindeer are matriarchical. cows have best friends and 4 stomachs and like jazz music. i watched a video recently of an octopus making himself a door out of a coconut shell.
i am a little soft, okay. but sometimes i can't talk either. the world is like fractal light to me, and passes through my skin in tendrils. i feel certain small things like a catapult; i skirt around the big things and somehow arrive in crisis without ever realizing i'm in pain.
in 5th grade we read The Curious Incident of the Dog In The Night-time, which is about a young autistic boy. it is how they introduced us to empathy about neurotypes, which was well-timed: around 10 years old was when i started having my life fully ruined by symptoms. people started noticing.
i wonder if birds can tell if another bird is odd. like the phrase odd duck. i have to believe that all odd ducks are still very much loved by the other normal ducks. i have to believe that, or i will cry.
i remember my 5th grade teacher holding the curious incident up, dazzled by the language written by someone who is neurotypical. my teacher said: "sometimes i want to cut open their mind to know exactly how autistics are thinking. it's just so different! they must see the world so strangely!" later, at 22, in my education classes, we were taught to say a person with autism or a person on the spectrum or neurodivergent. i actually personally kind of like person-first language - it implies the other person is trying to protect me from myself. i know they had to teach themselves that pattern of speech, is all, and it shows they're at least trying. and i was a person first, even if i wasn't good at it.
plants learn information. they must encode data somehow, but where would they store it? when you cut open a sapling, you cannot find the how they think - if they "think" at all. they learn, but do not think. i want to paint that process - i think it would be mostly purple and blue.
the book was not about me, it was about a young boy. his life was patterned into a different set of categories. he did not cry about the tag on his shirt. i remember reading it and saying to myself: i am wrong, and broken, but it isn't in this way. something else is wrong with me instead. later, in that same person-first education class, my teacher would bring up the curious incident and mention that it is now widely panned as being inaccurate and stereotypical. she frowned and said we might not know how a person with autism thinks, but it is unlikely to be expressed in that way. this book was written with the best intentions by a special-ed teacher, but there's some debate as to if somebody who was on the spectrum would be even able to write something like this.
we might not understand it, but crows and ravens have developed their own language. this is also true of whales, dolphins, and many other species. i do not know how a crow thinks, but we do know they can problem solve. (is "thinking" equal to "problem solving"? or is "thinking" data processing? data management?) i do not know how my dog thinks, either, but we "talk" all the same - i know what he is asking for, even if he only asks once.
i am not a dolphin or reindeer or a dog in the nighttime, but i am an odd duck. in the ugly duckling, she grows up and comes home and is beautiful and finds her soulmate. all that ugliness she experienced lives in downy feathers inside of her, staining everything a muted grey. she is beautiful eventually, though, so she is loved. they do not want to cut her open to see how she thinks.
a while ago i got into an argument with a classmate about that weird sia music video about autism. my classmate said she thought it was good to raise awareness. i told her they should have just hired someone else to do it. she said it's not fair to an autistic person to expect them to be able to handle that kind of a thing.
today i saw a goose, and he was limping. i want to be loved like a flock loves a wounded creature: the phrase taken under a wing. which is to say i have always known i am not normal. desperate, mewling - i want to be loved beyond words.
Continuing this fix-it AU where Commander Fox springboards off the deep end into a full-on rebellion, featuring unlikely allies belatedly finding out they are allies far too late to stop being allies but then again it’s never too late not to throw a terrifyingly destructive fit about it (Maul)
purple hawke who, at malcolm's death, lost not only a father, a mentor, the single most stable and safe point in their world up until this moment. but also the only person in their life who would consistently, gleefully 'yes, and — ' them. the loss, in one fell swoop, of both a beloved parent and your sole willing — no, not only willing, enthusiastic — improv partner. truly, the most unkindest cut of all that the maker could have seen fit to deal. (there's always so much less laughter in the house, after malcolm's gone.)
and then after all the horrors of the blight and trying to make a new life in the shithole turned shithome of kirkwall....... they meet varric. and something that's been slumbering deep within their soul dries a tear of relief and joy and whispers 'oh we are so back'. and they are so right
Here's my controversial opinion; if you're trying to write Bruce as a non-abusive, good parent, you should also write him respecting his kids' privacy, boundaries, and not stalking&surveying them.
The sky above is blue, and there’s only one sun... but otherwise, it feels like home.
i don't post much (any?) of my cosplay on here but these photos turned out so well i had to share!! shoutout to my friend mel (@baroqueblood on instagram) for capturing these incredible shots of my lup last month :,) i'm so so proud of this cosplay, i've slowly assembled it one piece at a time over about 2 years and i think this is the best version of it so far!
Just because I had one day when the pain wasn’t there for long enough for me to enjoy it doesn’t mean I am suddenly “cured from my issue” or that I don’t need accommodations anymore.
I always had troubles figuring out how the stuttering from Aziraphale could say "I can't-" or whatever and some people made fun how the "aga-" sounded so I just thought it was a weird sound but nvm.
Then I randomly rewatched the last 15 minutes remembering that his look meant "do it again"
BUT NO. NOT JUST HIS LOOK BUT HIS STUTTERING TOO???
"Ag-" AGAIN ???????
AZIRAPHALE WHAT
I CAN HEAR IT NOW
Why am I so late 💀 I saw no one talking about it im confused
I am having thoughts about Law being extremely worried any time Roci gets sick, just because he remembers how miserable he was when he was sick, and maybe he thinks it’s his fault, because his immune system’s been compromised by Amber Lead
this one really got away from me it really was just supposed to be the first one with a different ending but anyway here it is lol
Okay I’m. Usually. Usually I don’t enjoy human aus and usually I hate drawing transformers as humans because it feels so wrong to my brain.
But then I stumbled upon Dream of something more by Gemma_Inkyboots and aaauuuhh fuck. Here’s the pile of the most vague and unspecific and undetailed fanart. Because I’m being torn between “I can’t drawing human designs” and “If don’t draw something for this fic I die”.