#please appreciate lol

[persicipen]

₊ ˙ ⊹ .

[isjasz]

[Day 304]

Andddd here begins Grian's long suffering o7

this is a canon event don't blame me blame the game👍

[inkskinned]

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.

loved beyond thinking.

[chiscribbs]

Grown Apart AU - Musical Style ✨

What is This Feeling from Wicked pretty perfectly encapsulates GA Donnie and Leo's first impressions of each other, so the musical nerd within me couldn't resist doing this (lol).

Context within the plot: After saving Mikey's life (by total coincidence), Donnie manages to infiltrate the Hamato residence as a spy, planning to capture the oozesquitos and hand them over to Big Mama, thus gaining her favor. Leo, however, sees through his act easily and has been keeping an eye on him since he arrived. Due to circumstances outside of their control - i.e. Splinter's decision - the two of them are forced to share a room with each other, which neither party is particularly thrilled about.

----------------

I just found out that, apparently, Grown Apart has made into the @tmntaucompetition preliminaries!!!! ASDFGHJKJH;!! Thank you to anyone who sent in a nomination! I guess we can officially call this "propaganda" now, so look forward to seeing much more in the very near future!

[dekariosclan]

Imagine Gale as a talented and impressive young man, able to compose the Weave at will, skilled in a way that few can match, and favored by the Goddess of Magic herself. Imagine that because of these accomplishments, he’s caught the eye of a few up-and-coming magic adepts, and he falls in love with one of them—his first real love. Gale isn’t one to toss the ‘L’ word around lightly, so when he tells them he loves them, he means it; he gives himself over to them completely.

And in return, they love him for his potential. For his status. For the magic he can command. They love the wizard they see on the surface, but not the man underneath. They are attracted to his power, but not to him.

So of course the relationship fails, after the thrill of his magic wears off. But because Gale is a resilient young man and he’s caught the eye of so many, he soon falls in love with another.

And then it happens again. And again.

And each time Gale’s heart is ravaged, his ambition to become a better wizard grows, because he’s being shown time and time again that his magic ability is all that matters.

So much so that, by the time Mystra decides to elevate him from Favored to Chosen to Lover, he welcomes her with eager, desperate arms. Because if all his worth is in his magic, and that’s all he has to offer, and that’s all anyone wants from him, who better to love him than the Goddess of Magic herself?

Except…there’s a nagging voice in the back of his head that whispers she doesn’t really love him. There’s anxiety in his heart as time passes, and he reaches both the limit of what his talents can do and what Mystra will allow him to do. And most troubling of all: a growing panic that, just like his other lovers, she will soon grow tired of him and discard him if he can’t improve his magic any further.

He tries pouting, and pleading, and begging her to let him take more power, to let him be more for her, but she refuses. Smiles patronizingly. Tells him to be patient. But Gale can’t be patient when his power is tied so closely to his self-worth; he can’t be patient when doing so in the past has only ever lead to heartache.

So he does what he believes will be a Grand Romantic Gesture, one that will finally put him on equal footing with the woman he loves. Instead, it turns out to be a folly that dooms him and destroys his talents. And just as he’d always feared, Mystra tosses him aside the moment his magical gifts are gone—because what’s left of him holds no value for her.

————

Imagine Gale in his tower, alone, afraid, the ever-hungry orb in his chest, with only his tressym there to help him. No other friends to speak of. His colleagues forced to keep away for their own safety. His magical talents utterly stripped down, so that even when he does try and distract himself with illusions, he’s bitterly reminded of what he used to be capable of. Waking every morning wondering if it will be his last, ending every day full of loneliness and disappointment.

…and then he meets Tav.

At the lowest point in his life, at his most vulnerable, when he knows he’s going to be considered a burden, he meets this stranger and their group. So he does what he can to be useful—assigning himself to be camp cook, offering up his (now meager) magic skills, turning the charm up to 11—as he desperately hopes this will somehow work out. He’s pleasantly surprised when, after providing only minor details of his condition, Tav agrees to help him. He’s even more surprised when they actually follow through.

Imagine how Gale feels as Tav treats him kindly. As he grows to trust Tav, and then grows to like them. Imagine his surprise as he opens up and shows them more and more of himself, and they don’t turn him away.

But then his condition worsens. And he has to reveal everything: the foolish mistakes he’s made, and how dangerous he is as a result. He clings to Tav’s hand as he shows them his folly. He’s at their mercy now, and he knows this might be the last time he’ll ever feel the touch of another being, if they decide—and Gods, why wouldn’t they decide?—to cast him out.

…but they don’t. They don’t. Instead, they tell him to stay.

Imagine the relief Gale feels. The gratitude. And perhaps…just a hint of something more. Something that he dare not name, but that flares to life every time he thinks of how warm their hand was in his. Something that feels dangerously close to jealousy, when he’s had too much to drink and sees Tav smiling at another…

But he knows these are all foolish thoughts, because he has nothing to offer Tav. They are wonderful just as they are, but he…he is an empty shell of a man, a discarded husk of a wizard, and while they might tolerate him, he could never believe they might actually want him.

And besides, he still thinks of Mystra. He still longs for Mystra. She who cast him out, but to whom he still feels tethered. Sometimes he needs to cocoon himself in the weave, just to try and calm his fears and bring some joy back to his life, because magic is his life. And sometimes he just needs to see her face, even though that hurts as much as it heals.

One night he’s lost in thought, having conjured Mysta’s image after settling down at camp. Thinking that even if she hadn’t ‘loved’ him—certainly not in the way he’d loved her—she’d given him enough otherwise, hadn’t she? She’d amused him and been amused by him, they’d shared countless pleasures, why hadn’t he been satisfied with that?

Gale is so lost in thought he doesn’t realize Tav has come up behind him. Until they ask a question, startling him out of his trance. He’s a bit shaken, so he tries to turn the conversation from Mystra to the weave itself. And then a wonderful idea occurs to him, something that he’d been toying with already: what if they were to conjure the weave together?

He can show Tav how important magic is to him, let them experience what he does, perhaps even impress them a bit. But most importantly, share a moment with them. As friends would do…

He’s elated when Tav agrees. He leads them through the steps effortlessly, and they’re a surprisingly good student, following his instructions correctly (if a bit clumsily). He’s as excited as they are—perhaps even more so!—when they succeed in channeling the weave.

It’s such a pleasant, familiar feeling for him, like coming home to his tower in Waterdeep. Even as the weave connects him with Tav and makes them one, he’s easily able to hide his innermost thoughts, because he’s done it so many times before.

…but he’s forgotten that Tav has not.

————

Imagine Gale knowing every romantic partner he ever had only wanted him because of how he could raise their status, or how he could amuse them, or how he could command magic for them. And, each time, he was happy to oblige them, even desperate to oblige them, because if that was the price of their love, then he was sure it would be worth it.

But it still all came to nothing.

Now imagine Gale connected in an intimate way with someone he likes very, very much—while being what he considers his lowest, most worthless, and most humbled self. As far from the powerful, impressive wizard he once was as he could ever be. And suddenly a vision enters his mind from the lovely creature standing next to him. Only, to his complete and utter shock, it isn’t one where he is providing them with a service, or wowing them with his magical ability, or granting them some kind of power from one of the spells he commands.

Instead, when he sees their desire laid bare before him, it’s a vision of kissing him. Of holding his hand. The two most basic forms of affection and physical connection. The two things that he would still be able to offer them even if every last ounce of his remaining magical abilities were stripped from him. The two things he could share with them even if he was no longer Gale of Waterdeep, and just plain old Gale Dekarios instead.

Imagine the embarrassment and trepidation he feels at first, because surely he is mistaken?…and then the elation when he realizes that he is not. So much elation that his concentration is broken, the weave dissipating as he forgets about channeling it, as he forgets about Mystra. Because all that matters to him now is the image before him—the most pleasant and welcome image he’s seen in a very, very long time.

Imagine how that would feel…and how besotted, enamored and completely devoted he’d be to Tav afterwards. To know that someone finally—finally—just wants him.

Just imagine.

[nanihirunkits]

You really don’t like me? I don’t know. You don’t know about what? You really don’t know? [...] Do you somehow know it now? How about you? Do you somehow know it too?

WE ARE | EP10

[dorothygale]

dashboard simulator: the taylor swift album leaked

🦋 swiftiemutual13

This post contains filtered tags. #ttpd spoilers [ View post ]

��� offline-swiftie

wait i just got online did the album leak

0 notes

🍑 nonswiftie-mutual

does anyone have a link lmao

#x.txt

2 notes

💋 swiftie-mutual reblogged swiftie-mutual-inlaw

🫶 swiftie-mutual-inlaw

if you listen to leaks you should literally be stoned to death

#taylor swift #ttpd

149 notes

👩🏼 another-swiftie-mutual

This post contains filtered tags. #ttpd spoilers [ View post ]

🐱 offline-swiftie reblogged swiftgifblog

💁🏼‍♀️ swiftgifblog

#eras tour #we were both young when i first saw queue

326 notes

👩🏼 another-swiftie-mutual

This post contains filtered tags. #ttpd spoilers [ View post ]

🐵 funnyman-blogger

listened to the entire album three times why does she suck soooo bad lmaoo i'm about to listen to it again because of how bad it is

34 notes

👱🏻‍♀️ person-who-acts-like-theyre-a-swiftie

listened to the entire album three times why does she suck soooo bad lmaoo i'm about to listen to it again because of how bad it is

#she hasn't made anything good since 2008

0 notes

👩🏼‍🎓 differentswiftie

anonymous asked: do you have a link???

here you go

#seriously. find it yourself if you're that desperate #ask #anonymous

27 notes

🦋 swiftiemutual13

#help

5 notes

🍂 otherswiftie

guys i'm starting to lose hope for evermore long pond

18 notes

[mythtakxn]

i mean.... (x)

[artilite]

fishersif tonite? fishersif tonite queen??

[hauntedandmurdered]

The sexiest touch in movie history and no, nothing's ever gonna change my mind.

[alastors-antlers]

Being someone who sees a lot of talk about shipping Alastor (sexually, romantically) in fanworks, I just want to take some time to talk about both sides of the issue. It's long, I know - please, please bear with me until the end, and I hope you'll understand what I mean in a bit.

I hope this helps someone, but as an aroace person who understands the frustration and hurt, this is often how it feels to me:

Alastor, being one of the limited cases of aspec rep that I've seen and one of even fewer which I actually enjoyed, means a lot to me.

That being said, his canon rep establishes that he's aroace but not much about how this factors into his life or relationships at all -- and when there's a gap in canon, I turn to fanfiction, which tends to spotlight characters' queerness even when the source material doesn't or can't. Don't we all want to see ourselves in the media we engage with?

When I pull up AO3, there are already a good number of fics about him. Great! Some of them are definitely incredible; but as I read on, it starts to seem like a lot of fics I see acknowledge that he's asexual or aromantic in some way but don't really factor that into the story. It reads like you could have written the story without keeping his queer identity in mind, and it would've come out the same.

Even when representation that does resonate with me exists, it starts to be exhausting to pick through the slash tags to see which ones are written in an aspec-coded way, so I wonder if it would be easier to not read anything with slash at all. On the other hand, when you filter ships out completely, only a tiny fraction of the fanworks are left.

People often respond that aspec people can have relationships, and I think we tend to know that. They can have sex, some can experience sexual attraction in select situations, they can romance others beyond romantic attraction -- any combination of things. But some aroace people don't want either, and sometimes we're struggling to see ourselves in how Alastor is typically portrayed.

Out of all of the fics, sex-repulsed, totally aromantic Alastor isn't seen much. And when Alastor's limited canon seems to be pretty supportive of a reading where he is those things...

Sometimes, you start to feel lost. If fics were evenly distributed along the aroace spectrum of experiences, wouldn't you expect more fics of him being the "totally uninterested" brand of aroace? But there aren't. People seem to have a preference toward seeing him in relationships. Even if they mean well, it can make you think: what does that say about how we view asexuality/aromanticism as a whole?

Is there something less interesting about Alastor, when romance is taken out of the picture? Do others find him less appealing as a character if they can't see him dating, or in love, or having sex or wanting it? Why do we need romance, when romance is already everywhere else, when it doesn't even feel like he was originally really interested? It brings to mind a struggle to be societally accepted, even today.

Even when it's not technically wrong to write Alastor as you see him, being told that we should all be able to ship him however we want can feel like this:

It brings to mind people who try to swing in with misinformed good intentions, telling us "oh, you're aromantic? but you can still have romantic relationships, right? so you can still be normal." when all we want is to be okay outside of the normal.

Or trying to find a partner who can be with us, out of everyone who tells us "I know you don't enjoy sex, and that's okay, but I can't have a romantic relationship with you without it." and being so tired of hoping for someone who gets it.

Or talking with peers, and hearing them all commiserate and fawn over their experiences with love, then telling them about someone you like non-romantically and getting "aww, it sounds like somebody's got a crush!" but not being believed when you tell them it's not like that at all.

Alastor is not a big deal, not really, not in the grand scheme of things. But in an allonormative world, it can feel like a sudden splash of cold water when we were expecting a warm fire to sit around. Even within this ecosystem, we squint to see ourselves reflected.

Society isn't built for us. It can be exhausting to be reminded of that.

~~~

I hope to support people writing Alastor as any variation of aspec, or not even aspec at all. At the end of the day, I think that fanon is really whatever you want it to be, and everyone has their own reasons for writing what they find enjoyable. They should be allowed to do so, and I want to believe that people do what they do with good intentions.

They want to imagine scenarios with the templates of characters they love, and that's okay; even beyond sexuality/queer identities/etc., fan interpretations of characters can be incredibly, wildly different from who they really are in the story anyway, and that's what I try to remind myself. But still, I also can't help feeling disappointed about the aroace representation we could have seen.

(Is Alastor canonically sex-repulsed? Uhh, maybe. If I had to guess, that'd be my top guess, but this might be a hot take: I wouldn't really say there's enough to go off of considering that this view is supported by Angel propositioning him both times, and it's not like Alastor is a particularly big fan of Angel at those points anyway lol)

To my fellow aroaces struggling with Alastor's fandom rep: if you need a break from it all; if you need to block the tags that you hate; if you need to talk to someone about how you're feeling; that's okay. It makes sense that you'd want more representation in a way that helps you feel seen and validated and less alone. I can't speak for everyone, but I think I get it.

I don't have any solutions for how you're feeling, because sometimes I'm feeling the same way. I understand that you want others to get your position and you have the right to express your feelings, but even if you're correct, often being angry or frustrated won't help change others' minds, so let's try to save our energy and take care of ourselves.

Something that helps me to think about is that even now, asexuality is gaining more visibility. We're gaining support. Real change is happening in the world that's helping incredible amounts of aspec people feel freer to be themselves. And maybe one day, we won't be reaching to protect our scraps of representation.

Let's fight until that day together <3

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #61 part 1

Danny didn’t like thinking about his old life. He was born to a family of assassins and as soon as he was out he never looked back. He had to fake his death and he changed his name, as far as anyone knew Damian Al Ghul had died on a mission to America. He was determined to keep this secret to the grave. Of course he knew who his dad was, Bruce Wayne was a prominent figure and he knew if we went there his secret would get out and he never wanted to be forced to be an assassin again. Once was enough. 

Danny knew he had a soft heart, his adoptive parents, the Fentons and Jazz had told him so. Jazz knew he didn’t have the greatest childhood or past but she never pried, she understood his business was his and wouldn’t let her own curiosity get the better of her. The only issue their family had was their parents obsession with ghosts. Damian never believed in ghosts, the entire thing sounded like a hoax. He probably never would have believed in them but then life happened. 

Danny believed, but it was kind of hard not too after everything that happened. When he had turned 14, his parents finished their biggest project yet. A portal to the ghost zone, of course it doesn’t work at first and his parents were very disappointed. Danny felt conflicted about the whole thing. On one hand he wanted his parents to succeed and he wanted them to be happy, on the other the portal was the reason he ate alone with his sister at night. He wanted a normal family life, something he was never allowed back at the league. 

He did something so stupid that night.

After his parents along with his sister were asleep, he crept down to the basement and stood in front of the empty hole in the wall. He looked around the outside of it first but nothing seemed to be out of place. Then he stepped into it and before he got too far into it something happened. He knew there were a lot of cords on the floor and thought he had avoided them all, but as he realized he was quickly being acquainted with the floor, he out of instinct held his hand out to catch himself on the wall. Right onto the ON button.

He didn’t remember much but pain after that.

A lot happened in the year after the portal was turned on but Danny thought he was taking things well. His sister found out about everything sooner than he liked but having someone to help him was something he didn’t realize he really needed until then. The ghost attacks were frequent and Danny was having trouble finding the time for school, friends, and fighting ghosts that the assistance helped a lot. 

Danny sat at as desk in Mr. Lancers class, who was going on about the play Hamlet. Danny was only half paying attention, he was preoccupied thinking about the latest conversation he had with Clockwork. Danny was recently crowned prince after his victory over Pariah Dark. He didn’t want the crown, ancients knew what Grandfather would do if he ever found out, but he had no other option but to accept. The conversation left him rather drained and it felt like every word his teacher spoke bled together. 

He eventually made his way to lunch and before he could make it to his destination a blue mist wafted out of his mouth. Sighing he ran out of the room to find a place to transform. Once he was Phantom he wasted no time finding the ghost. Of course it was Boxie. 

Before he had time to even fight though a portal opened up right besides Danny and he was kicked in by the Box Ghost. The world seemed to swirl around him until he landed harshly onto some pavement. The pavement was a roof and he appeared to be in a city. 

Not just any city he soon realized as he looked over to a bank that had the words ‘Gotham Bank’ brightly plastered on the front.

Shit… Danny wanted to avoid something like this, unfortunately the portal was already gone. 

After taking a moment to think about his predicament he decided the best course of action was to call Jazz.

He took a look around the rooftop he was on and when he didn’t see anyone he transformed back. 

Pulling out his cell from his pocket he pulled up his sister's contact on it and hit the call button. 

His sister took a bit longer than usual to answer but the hesitation in her voice caused him to pause, “H-hello?”

“Jazz, it’s Danny, we’ve got a code green,”  he knew setting up code colors with his sister would come in handy. Red meant he was gravely injured, yellow meant the ghost got away and he was in pursuit, blue meant he caught the ghost, and green meant he fell through a portal or something similar. 

There was silence on the other line for a moment and Danny was almost going to say something else but she spoke, “How do you know my name?”

Master Post:

Next:

[heretoobsessstuff]

“we’re all gonna miss major Cleven, sir”.

Major Cleven John thought bitterly. Gale. Sweet beautiful Gale. Gale who was there. In the cockpit. Fighting for his life while John was sleeping next to a random woman. Gale who was falling from the sky. Living his last moments. Losing blood. In pain. Scared and cold and alone. While John was here in London. Drinking and coaxing a random woman to spend more time in his bed. Where was Gale now? His Gale. Laying on the dirt and mud somewhere? Lost in some distant German field with no one to look for him? His ocean blue eyes forever closed? What had become of him? Of his Gale? Was anything even left of him?

John felt sick with anger. His thoughts ran wild with no one to tame them. I should’ve never left him alone. I should’ve been up there with him. Protecting him. Looking out for him. It was supposed to be me and him left up in the sky. Not me in London and him lost somewhere I can never reach. It’s all my fault. I failed him. I failed him. Grief clawing at his throat. Suffocating him. His eyes stinging with unshed tears and the lump he had swollen down a hundred times with the alcohol. He needed to go. Avenge Buck. Or find him. Or join him. Wherever he was.

“Don’t worry Kenny” he said. Jumping into the Jeep. Hands shaking. “I don’t even feel it”.

Read Another drabble from Gale’s POV here:

[kaprisvn]

Mr. Sandman...

Hey Chat me again this time with Moon's Ref sheet for Chasing Stars! You can read a little bit more on the fic on Sun's reference sheet ~here~

Y/N's Sheet here!

(Click for more quality!!)

Wow what a silly guy! He's a little mischievous, but he doesn't mean anyone harm. His form of rebellion against the company that owns him is continuously vandalizing the posters around the plex. Though, he recently got a promotion. Management want's him to be a security bot! How cool! It comes with a bit update to his software, oddly enough.

A bit of an.. alternate version under the cut :)

(CW: Light Blood)

Oh.

(Y/N's sheet up next!)

[optiwashere]

Not going to reblog or mention the post where I saw these tags, but wow this sentiment sucks as someone who mostly writes one-shots when she writes fic. How does commenting on one-shots not translate to motivation for the writer to continue writing them? What is the thought process there?

Commenting is contributing to fandom; it's a dialogue with the writer while engaging in the community, in theory, and flat out claiming there's no need for it...? Sad, but not particularly unexpected, I guess.

[rottiens]

Stepmom Yuki has severe breeding kink 😔✊️

she fucks you nice and deep, putting her hands on your belly looking adoringly at the way the cock separates your slippery folds and she would love nothing more than to fill you to the last drop. she in fact, debates whether she would love to cum in your folds or so deep inside you. her thumb moves from your belly button to your clit and strokes it sweetly as she takes the leg above her shoulder and kisses your calf, moving her hips in such a way that she manages to get even deeper.

the idea of her seed inside you, your tits swollen from pregnancy and her lips on your sweet sensitive nipples is what makes her cum silently, calling your name as she bites your skin.