#teen autism gift ideas

[noisycowboyglitter]

Support Autism Awareness Every Day: Celebrating Neurodiversity

Autism awareness is more than just a month-long campaign; it's a commitment to understanding, acceptance, and inclusivity that should be embraced every day of the year. By supporting autism awareness, you're helping to create a world where individuals on the autism spectrum can thrive.

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Every action, no matter how small, contributes to a larger impact. From educating yourself about autism to advocating for the community, your efforts make a difference. Whether it's wearing blue, donating to autism organizations, or simply spreading kindness and understanding, your support matters.

Let's work together to build a more inclusive society where everyone feels valued and respected. By standing united, we can create a brighter future for individuals with autism.

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Remember, your voice and actions can make a difference. Support autism awareness every day.

Autism awareness is a year-round commitment. It’s about understanding, acceptance, and creating an inclusive world for individuals on the autism spectrum. Every action counts, from educating yourself to supporting autism organizations. Let’s work together to build a community where everyone feels valued and respected. By spreading awareness, fostering empathy, and celebrating diversity, we can make a positive impact. Join us in making a difference every day.

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Let’s build a brighter future together.

Discover thoughtful and meaningful presents for individuals on the autism spectrum. Our collection features a range of products designed to support independence, sensory needs, and personal interests. From practical aids to inspiring accessories, we offer something for everyone. Show your care and understanding with a gift that makes a difference.

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Let's celebrate the unique strengths and abilities of the autism community.

[calciumdeficientt]

Cal !! Saw the previous ask about Bryce and I absolutely loved your ideas- do you have anything in mind for Gord dearest?

Please, call me milky!

Anyway …Gorrrrrrrd! Gord was my first love, he was the first NPC i heard speak when i played the game (past this is your school,obvs) and he’s the one that hit me over the head with the autism sledgehammer. i want to scrunch him up and throw him in a wood chipper

GORD VENDOME HCS

He’s the cuntiest bitch on the bullworth academy campus and I’m literally not going to accept any form of argument, he came out of the womb wearing aquaberry. He lives and breathes it, its his lifeblood. He plans his walk around school to and from each class, checking the weather to make sure he if needs to tweak any parts of the route so that’s he has the best chance of getting every student to see how effortless, demure and graceful he is in his choice of fine clothes, jewellery and hair care. No one is fooled by him, they know it takes a hell of a lot of effort.

Gord does a closet reshuffle every 6 months or so, just to make sure all his clothes are on trend and in season. This is standard prep procedure, but what makes Gord’s rearranging so special is that he literally cannot bear to throw anything away. He attaches memories to every stitch of fabric he’s ever put on his body, he’s a work of art and therefore every single outfit he’s ever worn simply has to be memorialised, he can’t throw it all away. His father has dedicated several houses just to the backlog of Gord’s discarded clothing. There’s more than enough in there to fully stock several Aquaberry locations for literal decades.

He gets dreadful hay fever, its actually kind of disgusting to look at him if he hasn’t taken an antihistamine. Luckily very few people have ever seen him like that, he has several boxes on his person at all times during the spring and summer. He just doesnt have the heart to tell Jimmy about his pollen allergy, so when he’s given flowers he has to hold all of his sneezes in. This then makes his eyes water, and therefore makes Jimmy think he’s so overjoyed with the gift that he’s moved to tears. Luckily for gord he keeps several hand stitched silk handkerchiefs on his person at all times, initialled with thread made of spun gold, he’s not some kind of common mutt that uses disposable tissues.

Gord is a rather talented pianist, he was given the choice as a child to either play polo with his father, or take piano lessons. The thought of the latter made him so lightheaded he thought that he was having a heart attack so he chose to play piano instead. His family have a very nice grand piano in their house’s foyer, but a separate, dedicated room for music practice with an equally expensive, but less aesthetically pleasing piano. On special occasions when the Vendomes wanted to show off, they’d plonk Gord in front of the piano and set him loose. It was usually Schubert or Bach to show how deeply cultured their young son was; but in his personal time, Gord found he much preferred to play the works of more modern classical composers, Leonard Cohen was a particular favourite in his early teens. He doesn’t play all that often nowadays, he’s much too busy, but every time he thinks he might be forgetting he’ll spend an hour or so playing through the giant stack of sheet music he’s accumulated over the years.

His cologne is one of a kind, hand mixed by a company in Milan, its tailored to him and only him and was originally a gift for his 10th birthday. It’s more feminine smelling than most colognes but he thinks it makes him stand out more, he’s not a traditionally masculine guy, so he likes that his cologne reflects that. He’s been gifted many other scents, usually from distant relatives or prospective marriage candidates that dont really know him but they’re just not the same.

Actually got bullied so insanely hard for his ears when he was a kid that he refused to leave the house without a hat on. Even when he first came to bullworth kids weren’t the nicest to him. His ears are a big source of insecurity for him and he is in the process of convincing his father to let him get surgery to tuck them in. His satellite dishes are so cute and he should never get rid of them but its not really up to me.

Comforts Pinky when Derby forgets about every single one of their dates, he takes her shopping for whatever she wants, to dinner someplace exclusive (he always makes reservations on days when those two have dates, he just knows Derby will bail), and then back to Harrington house to watch movies. He openly cries at the sad parts of the romcoms they inevitably end up watching, often more so than Pinky.

Holds a fondness for poor people that not even he himself can fully explain. If he had to pinpoint it, its their freedoms. They’re free to be content with nothing, or to work to fix it, they dont start at an advantage in life and therefore get to enjoy the ride a little bit more. Thats his rose tinted view of it anyway, obviously he hasn’t the time to spend creating a nuanced understanding of his infatuation, he just accepts it as part of his psyche and moves on with his own, utterly fabulous life.

[1mlostnow]

Do I dare drop the vague idea I had for the house md oc?? No…I shan’t

😔🤭🫣🫨

Uhhh did the cut cuz idk how long it’s gonna be.

Stevie “Bird” Corcoran

Bro uses he/him, he’s a home of sexual, DOB 11/02/1978, he’s err uh 5’10, hazel eyes and blonde hair

11/2/1978

His mommy left 😮‍💨

He’s Catholic 🤞

He has 2 sisters and 2 brothers

Grew up in a three bedroom apartment 🙏

He was the second sibling, one more and the next two were twins and then she was like “ok bye”

Forensic scientist often working in PPTH, just kinda hangs around when he’s not busy. He wanted to go into psychology but ultimately decided that if he didn’t like people analyzing and studying him, it wasn’t fair to do it to others. Something about morality. He’s an empath 🤭

Gifted kid -> highschool burnout -> working dream job as an adult

Fucking hates adults that aren’t his friends, loves to work with kids. He’s never been on time for work in his life.

Dresses like a fucking office worker LMAO button ups and ties and shit. Either that or those old man sweaters and yk they all make fun of him for it 😀

Terrible with money, he has had to move in with Chase on two separate occasions.

Autism be damned that boy can’t cook worth a shit 😓

I just know he’s the type to have a secret tumblr and blog about whatever’s going on at the hospital that day “lmao yr mafia? Ok gay boy we know you’re on estrogen anyways 🤣🤣” “can they stop staring at each other like that it’s scaring me…gonna catch gay disease 🦠” “lady came up to me asking about scabs? bitch I’m in forensics idk why you have hemorrhoids but it’s NOT my problem!”

He’s got a daughter, Anna, she’s 12, she read warrior cats. Thats what you need to know. :) I love her, she’s basically Nepeta Leijon :)) the other doctors love her.

I think an important detail about Bird is that he’s always got this happy demeanor and seems like a very sociable person, but a year into opening up to him, you’ll realize he hasn’t told you a single thing about himself.

He doesn’t like to talk much about his childhood but he’s not the type to shy away from it and stay silent, he deflects the question with a smile and a joke.

Fucked around with fireworks as a teen, got that scar :/

Him nd his fuckass mullet

I copied this straight outta my notes app so uhh yeah not gonna bother to edit my little things

Lmk what you think and what else I should add, just put the details I’ve seen others including in theirs :3

I just realized he looks rlly similar to chase in those 😔 his hair is curlier I just couldn’t find any I liked on picrew

[bloodycyrano]

Okay so I LOVE that Merril from DAO and DA2 are one in the same, but I wish there wasn't such a difference in personality and demeanor. You know? Because when I first played my dalish origin in DAO, I thought she seemed really stern and stuck up in a way, and it really annoyed me. Playing da2 in middleschool and early high-school, it took me like half a playthrough to realize it was the same Merril because she seemed to sweet and cute and meek. You get me?

So I'm writing the details for a rivalry between teen Warden and Merril, taking inspiration from both games to try and create a direct route for both character archetypes to work with a single Merril.

I know people change, and I kinda had the same Bitchy gifted kid to nervous autism demon personality pipeline (And I miss my bitch era everyday, it was so freeing to speak my mind all the time), but it just seems super far off from the DA2 Merril character we know and love.

I can attempt to chalk it up simply to the Warden having a pre-established rivalry with Merril before the events of DAO, but I really can't imagine Merril from DA2 being that cold- Except.. I sort of can, because my Warden was really toxic about things; and following the idea that Merril is autistic, and likely grew up with the Warden, I feel like she wouldn't mask as hard around her.. I'm working this problem out mid post, so I'm sorry if we've lost track. But yeah. That's the post.

I think instead of writing full on fanfiction, I'm going to write journal entries from my Wardens perspective and maybe the occasional scene.

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Just thinking out loud

Autism Security Blanket Tings

but when me and my family lived in a shelter as a teen the ONE THING I always had were these Superhero hoodies

I loved them, a certain brand called Mad Engine made them and I collected a couple: Loki, Captain America, I think I had a winter Soldier one too, a Thor one, A Spider-man one, A LOT.

and I could keep them because they didn't take up much space and I could wear them always

Like the Loki one had horns are you fucking kidding me that's adorable

I use to wear the loki hoodie and my Loki necklace to school everyday for months on end (swapping out the hoodie for other heros every other day)

- mind you I had no idea I was neurodivergent at the time LMAOOO

These things were my LIFELINE

I'm not that into plushies or stuffies cause if they fall off my bed or outta my sight they cease to exist but

I LOVE SILLY HOODIES they make me feel so safe plus I can show who I am :))))))

But somewhere along the way moving and stuff I guess my mom got rid of them or something, not her fault they were TOW UP and raggedy at that point but :( owie

They still mean a lot to me and I got a plush hoodie the other day totally unrelated (it's a nasa one :) )

Now I really wanna start collecting again

Sadly Mad Engine doesn't do those hoodies anymore but they're are some places that do and even though I'm a bit tight on it now I'd call it my bday gift to myself........

BUT HOBIE IS BREATHING DOWN MY NECK

He's like I thought yous was fighting capitalism m8 what happened

BEN REILLY SLEEVELESS HOODIE HAPPENED HOBIE

I SAW THIS AND IT BROUGHT EVERYTHING BACK I MUST HEAL MY INNER CHILD

I probably won't recollect my old ones because it kinda takes me back to a weird time and makes me oddly dysphoric BUT I WANT TO GET A NEW ONE SO BAD I'm gonna treat myself idc

IN SHORT this is a long post of me convincing myself I Deserve Things

[salixsociety]

The Double Edged Sword: Suffering and Magic

On the innate link between magic and struggle, and deconstructing the concept of health and functionality.

This one is gonna contain a lot of me just blabbering about personal experience and mental health and how it relates to magic, do not read if you'll be annoyed by lots of personal anecdotes. This is very much a rant, not an essay.

A topic that frequently bounces off the walls of my brain and refuses to sit still until I give it my attention, is how culture and capitalism dictates our definition of sanity, and why mental illness usually leads to a special proclivity towards magic.

Deconstructing 'Health'

I distinctly remember the incessant feeling of not ever being helped by the people who were supposed to help, as a child in the mental healthcare system. People didn't listen to me, pumped me full of medications, and told me to plan my life better. When I got to be a teen and was asked how my ideal, perfect life would look, I was told that was unattainable and not necessary for me to be 'healthy'. If only at the time it had occurred to me that 'healthy' in the eyes of our western society doesn't mean ultimate wellness, it means peak performance in a 40-or-more-hour work week. Opposite the metaphorical wall of psychiatrists, psychologists and other mental health professionals were my Oma and the other anthroposophically inclined elders in my life. Equally loudly, they claimed there was nothing wrong with me at all - rather, I was something special to be venerated. The evidence of the New Age inbound, a child of some supernatural being, a psychic, a gifted child, able to talk to archangels on the behalf of cooing sexagenarian ladies. They, in turn, had no trust in anybody's ability to treat me, and perhaps also didn't want me to change; so they urged me not to ask for help. Ashwaghanda and meditation would be enough, they swear. Being saddled with all those contradictions in your early teens is traumatic enough. Being diagnosed with psychosis, dissociative identity disorder, and autism in college, right after you find your faith again, is a slap in the face.

So, naturally, discovering my limits, my definition of health and illness, and my joy, has been a process. Completely rejecting New Age spirituality was half of the work. Nowadays I refuse to interact or toy with the idea of star-seeds, Indigo Children, HSPs, arch-angels talking to me, and whatever else. But, being only fresh into magic at that time and still quite young, that left me with only its polar opposite to derive my definitions from: psychiatry. Obviously, psychiatry and psychology are very much lacking in my eyes. After all, I had only ever known mental health 'treatments' to be people with pills and authoritative voices to whip me back into shape for school. It took me a long time and a lot of religious introspection to find my own opinion about it, which is that they can exist at the same time and are just different interpretations of the same fact.

Long Night / Second Sight

As illustrated, our definition of health and sanity nowadays is very much dictated by capitalism, and secondarily by those around us. Similarly, the line between 'religion' and 'delusion' is very blurry, and very cultural, and sometimes not even relevant. Picture, for example, a young woman in the year 100 A.D.. Not married, and not soon to be married, as she is utterly eccentric in her ways, wildly defiant and very often completely unreasonable. She finds her place talking to other women of her community about all the things she fears will come to pass. They don't always come true, but often do, and when her anxiety is proven correct, all the women in her circle point to her and spread the word: "seeress." She survives by 'prophesying' to her community, in return for their reverence and donations. So no, there is no concrete line between belief (good): religion/spirituality, and belief (bad): delusion/insanity. Would you feel confident drawing a line between anxiety and 'real' foresight? Would that line be anywhere near the middle, or would you end up writing off most of your potential prophecies as overthinking?

The question to follow is 'what if it is prophecy?', and the answer is that really, that means nothing. Anything could be prophecy. Any delusion could become reality in an absurd enough string of events, any anxiety could come to pass, any bird passing overhead could be an omen and every number on every clock could be a sign. You shouldn't accept them as such, you'd become an awful nervous person. But it does serve to illustrate my point, which is that the difference is one you make yourself. For me, the difference is how I experience the magic in my daily life as opposed to how I experience my mental illness. Magic should feel organic, innately harmless, useful, directed. Mental illness feels scary, stressful, innately harmful, exhausting. I always see spirits, but I consider it mental illness when I obsessively chase them. I'm always open to signs, but I consider it mental illness when I cannot shake the idea that everything I see is somehow a sign, and it stresses me out.

So: my identity as a magical practitioner and my identity as an insane person are inseparable and sometimes identical. I was diagnosed with a number of mental illnesses that I'm fairly open about, and I have had a few psychotic breaks. I have used medication, and chosen to tough it out. And, notably: I have managed to synthesize certain symptoms into magical capability. I can leverage my anxiety into foresight, and my tendency to hallucinate into clairvoyance. My identity as mentally ill individual is not just imposed on me by myself though: it is also by mental health professionals, and more notably even by people in my circles. I get placed squarely in the 'unwell' category even by some other pagans for how deeply I believe in my gods and in magic. But because my belief doesn't affect my environment or myself negatively, I do not consider that to be mental illness.

The odds are good that if I was put on antipsychotics, I would be less spiritual. But I enjoy being spiritual.

Mental Illness and the Magical Practitioner

The idea that suffering, disability, and queerness in a person create a proclivity towards magic is reflected in Germanic pagan divinity, which is what I can speak the most confidently on. Odinn, of course, is the prime example. He sacrificed his eye, literally half of his sight, to gain complete wisdom about a type of magic normally only women were socially sanctioned to practice. This story seems kind of random and dismissible when you aren't familiar with magic in old Teutonic society and folklore, but when you learn that people with disabilities were often thought of as much more magically inclined, it makes sense. If you lacked an eye, or your sight, you had one eye (or your sight) in the Other World. If you limped, you had one foot in the Other World (or the grave, but how death relates to magical proficiency is a whole another can of worms). And this logic was applied to so many differences: vitiligo, deafness, muteness, lack of mobility, etc. And, of course, mental suffering is not the exception. Being strange, proclaiming terrifying prophecies, having an air of otherness, if it didn't get you killed, was almost certain to land you a position as magical practitioner for your community. Another idea I toy with regularly: what are the odds, really, that people who came from an unbroken line of magical practitioners serving a community, also came from a family with hereditary mental illnesses, such as schizophrenia?

Folk Magic as Struggle Magic

One reason that I don't find this idea to be such a stretch is also the role that magic had in the daily lives of historical people. As many who have dipped their toes into folk magic of any kind will know, folk magic wasn't usually acknowledged as magic by their cultures of origin. It was not a faith you could more or less choose to believe in, or an optional thing to engage in. There was barely a word for it at all, and it was as real and constant as dew in the mornings. I don't think I want to claim that people then were more mystically inclined, but I do believe people then were far more accustomed to having the local magical practitioner as a constant in their life. The witch doctor, the curandera, the cunning lady, the braucher, the shaman. This person fulfilled a crucial role in treating medical conditions, providing a listening ear and advice, offering comfort in times of need, guiding the community in their spirituality and even in delivering justice.

The magic of daily life wasn't just to siphon milk off your neighbors' stockpile or to protect yourself from evil, after all. It was also to protect your house from lightning, treat rashes, decide when to offer to the gods, et cetera. And it was as much science as it was what we would now consider spirituality: flushing out a wound with calendula officinalis tincture and using graveyard dirt to remove a wart were not two individual concepts. Therefore it would make sense that there was such an important slot to be filled by somebody eccentric. Folk magic was to reduce struggle, and the practitioners, in my heart of hearts, knew struggle well.

Intersectionality

I could never do this topic true justice without writing an entire book about it, and I do not have aspirations to write a book as of right now. Still, I would like to encourage you to consider all of the implications of this 'theory'; from how queerness and disability are related, how toxic masculinity and disability relate, and how disabled persons might be considered more feminine than others. Most importantly of all, I would like to encourage whoever may read this to consider how intricately connected oppression/suffering and magic are.

Closing Statements

This was definitely a rant, more than anything else. I struggled writing it, because many of these thoughts are thoughts that I am still having myself, so they are floating around loosely in my head, not quite willing to all piece together into a perfect picture yet. But I am using the opportunities I get to think and discuss about this as an excellent excuse to better myself and get closer to my Gods and my practice.

I hope that, if anybody does end up reading this despite the small size of my blog, you take away some food for thought from this, and perhaps feel encouraged to delve deeper into some of the gritty intersectionality of magic. These ideas are not just relevant to historical figures, they apply today! Look at the amount of people who practice magic of any kind nowadays, that identify as queer and/or disabled. Look at how many people nowadays turn to magic because they came from a traumatic past under Christianity, or because they felt like they had no control over their lives otherwise, or because they connected to the fellow 'weird' kids in school who played DnD and read fantasy books. If that's you, or you are like those people, and you found magic because of suffering, it's you I am writing about, as much as I'm also writing about the Oracle of Delphi.

I wish everybody who found magic through struggle the very best in their journey of balancing those two things, and I hope nobody takes this post to mean that you shouldn't seek treatment when you are unwell. Only that you deserve to experience magic as much as you deserve to experience joy.

[lady-squid]

Wrong

Summary:

He could still see splinters scowl through the blurry tears that now flowed freely from his eyes. Washing his face with shame. “Quit this tantrum Purple, your being dramatic.” His harsh words were like drums beating into Donnie’s skull. He wishes his brothers were here, he wishes his father would stop.

Words: 2,523

To say Donnie was having a bad day would be an understatement. Waking up he could immediately feel the invisible weight on his shoulders, heavier than his battle shell could ever be. Unwanted anxiety built in his chest. Everything was too loud, The running water of the sewers, His brother's excited shouting's, his own feet padding across the floor. It’s all too much. Donnie hates being this way, wishing he could be like his brothers. The small things like texters, sounds, and lights don’t seem to bother them the way they do him. 

At an early age, he realized he wasn’t like his brothers, he was more anxious, easily annoyed, and sensitive to his surroundings. After Splinter pulled some strings with the humans to find out what was wrong with his son, he was given the diagnosis. High-functioning autism. His world seemed to be teetering on the edge, always about to fall. The day will sometimes get too much for him, inevitably causing him to shut down. Today was one of those days. 

Curled into a ball on his purple bed, the soft shell rocked back and forth slightly. The lights were off, casting shadows on his thin shaking body. He wanted his weighted blanket. No, he needed it. Needed the grounding weight on his shoulders. But the blanket was on the living room couch, meaning leaving his room. His dark little sanctuary, worse could mean running into his dad. His father never seemed to understand Donnie when he was like this, always making things so much worse. He could text one of his brothers and ask them to get it, but just the mere idea of the small screen's harsh lights burning into his retinas made him want to cry. God, why is he such a child?

Reluctantly pushing himself off the cushioned heaven the soft shell threw on his signature purple hoodie, a small weight lifted from his shoulders when he brought up the hood. But it isn’t enough, he still needs the blanket. The laughter of Mikey and Leo echoed through the sewer, making Donnie flinch. The two sounded like they were playing a game or something. The idea of leaving the room with the noises outside made him want to curl into a ball again. Walking to his dresser Donnie grabbed his noise-canceling headphones, they were baby purple, unlike his signature hue. They were a Christmas present from Mikey last year, painted with beautiful, calming lavender flowers. A small smile spread across his lips, thinking of the thoughtfulness behind his little brother's gift. Donnie placed them on top of his hood, taking a deep breath, he opened his door, braving the outside world. 

Bright. Everything was too bright. The overhead lights burned, and pulling his hood over his eyes the mutant speedily walked to the living room. He’ll just grab his weighted blanket from the living room couch, and go back to his dark quiet room. Easy. But rounding the corner to the living room he watched his ‘easy’ plan shatter. Of course, Splinter was watching TV, why hadn’t he even considered that? He is supposed to be the smart one. Stupid foolish child, the genius ridiculed himself. He can’t even do a simple task right. 

“What do you need? I’m trying to watch my show.” Splinter's irritated tone broke through his thoughts, he hadn’t realized he had been hovering in the doorway fidgeting with his hoodie strings. The rat’s eyes never left his TV show. The teen opened his mouth to speak, to say something, anything, but nothing came out. Splinter's eyes were on him now, only making it harder for Donnie to find his voice. “Purple, use your words, you are far too old for this.” Child. He knows Splinter’s right. He is behaving like a child.

 “B-Blanket.” His voice was sore from going unused, but he mustn’t have been as loud as he felt only receiving an irritated groan from his father. “Purple, I asked you a question.” Louder? His voice already felt like an echoing megaphone in his brain, if he was any louder surely his eardrums would blow. The softshell came to a realization, where was his weighted blanket? He left it on the chair his father now resided in. Had he moved it? His back felt bare and exposed despite the hoodie that rested on his shell. The mutant rat seemed to realize he wasn’t going to get more from his son, getting up from his spot he stood on the couch, motioning for Donnie to come over. This is what the teen feared. He didn’t want to have this conversation, he couldn’t have this conversation right now without breaking, and breaking would make his father even madder. Splinter Mad is bad, it’s loud and wrong, and it hurts, and-

“I haven’t got all day Donatello.” The tech wize flinched at his angry tone, and slowly made his way to his dad, now standing in front of the rat. Who, while standing on the chair, was now around a foot taller than his waist. The older man bore daggers into Donnie's face, but the purple teen couldn’t look him in the eyes like he wanted. He can’t stand that face, especially right now. Splinter iconic ‘why are you so broken’ face. “Can you even hear me in those things?” The ex-movie star asked, tapping the side of his noise-canceling headphones with his claw. The taking of his nails pierced through his ear, like a hammer nailing his brain, making tears well in his eyes. “It’s rude to listen to music while someone is talking to you Purple.” Grabbing the headphones he ripped them off of Donnie's head.

 the buzz of the projector, 

the hum of the lights, 

Splinters breathing,

 the steady dripping of water from pipes,

The laughter of his brothers in the other room,

The harsh world rushed his ears at once. 

 It’s wrong,

 Wrong,

 Wrong,

Wrong.

He could still see splinters scowl through the blurry tears that now flowed freely from his eyes. Washing his face with shame. “Quit this tantrum Purple, your being dramatic.” His harsh words were like drums beating into Donnie’s skull. He wishes his brothers were here, he wishes his father would stop. He wishes everything would stop, wishing the world would stop spinning long enough for him to catch up. The soft shell hadn’t realized he started flapping his hands till the rat grabbed his wrists. The touch burned his skin, causing a stifled cry to escape his lips. The father scolded him, but his words were lost on deaf ears. Donnie’s lungs burned just as badly as the touch on his wrists, breathing becoming fast and choppy. He wanted to beg, to ask Splinter to stop, but only sad whines escaped his throat. Everything was muffled as if cotton had been placed in Donnie’s ears. A second voice? Someone else was talking over the rat dad now. Who is that?

“Don’t grab-… -dad! You- …. -Help!” Only bits of their conversation could be made out through the ringing in his ears like they were bobbing in the water, pieces being drowned by waves. “You don’t-... I’m your father you-...” They’re arguing, the volume of their bickering is too much. It’s so wrong. He rips his three-fingered hands from the older mutant's grip, placing his palms over his ears, eyes squinting shut as if that’ll be enough to block out the world. The vibrating of footprints could be felt, dancing across the floor and traveling to his own feet, There small and light, Splinter’s, he left the room. Is it safe now? His thoughts were interrupted by a hesitant hand on his shoulder, Donnie’s tired green eyes shooting open. Frantic thin pupils searched for a threat, only to be greeted with blurry watery vision. The intruder redacted their hand, whispering soft apologies. 

Throwing his shame-ridden tears he could see a familiar shade of red. “R-Raph?” The older brother seems slightly more relieved hearing his voice. His lips are moving, but nothing gets past the ringing in Donnie's ears. The leader's other hand that hadn’t been on his shoulder came into view holding something… purple? His headphones. The younger brother removed his palms from his head, grabbed them greedily, and frantically put them back on. The agonizing sounds of the world faded, leaving Donnie in silent bliss. The purple ninja released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. 

“Better?” Raph asked, quite to not trigger Donnie, but loud enough to be heard through his headphones. He nods slightly, whipping his tears. “Would you like to go back to your room?” Donatello thinks to himself, he doesn’t want to be out in the open anymore. But he also doesn’t want to be alone, his room that once was dark and comforting now felt suffocating. Fidgeting with his hoodie strings again restlessly, Donnie shakes his head no. “Oh.” The leader seemed taken aback by his response. Rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly in thought. “Ok, where would you like to go?” Leaning forward Donnie let his head fall, resting it on Raph’s plastron. The leader’s poster went rigid for a second, clearly surprised. But quickly recovered, wrapping his arms around his soft shell brother. “My room?” Giving a chirp of affirmation the purple mutant looked up to his brother, braving the burning of the overhead lights. 

“Wei-... b-blanket.” The distressed turtle mumbled, hoping the other would understand. ‘Wha- Oh your weighted blanket?” Looking to the side Raph pointed with his eyes, hands never leaving the embrace. “Saw it over by dad’s chair… On da floor.” Raph ended with an annoyed growl. Donnie doesn’t miss the disdain in his voice. The purple mutant was very particular about his stuff, all his things having a particular place. Raph must have pierced together that the rat threw it to the ground. He doesn’t like that it’s been on the dirty floor, the thought making him squeamish, but the need for the comforting weight out weighed the disgust. Raph left the embrace to get it for him, Donnie immediately missing the contact. 

Why is he acting like this? Making Raph deal with all this, he doesn’t deserve to have to babysit him. “Mmh being childish…” His words slurred as Raph threw the blanket over his soft shell. He hadn’t meant to say it, he kind of just slipped. The larger turtle’s expression turned sad and concerned, hands landing on Donnie’s shoulders squeezing reassuringly. “Don, don’t listen to pop. You ain’t being childish.” Donatello didn’t even get the chance to process the words before he was pulled into a hug again. He doesn’t understand. Why does he put up with me? Why do any of his brothers stick around when they constantly have to deal with his sorry ass. 

“Now common, let's go to my room.” The red leader said with a sad smile, lightly swinging his arm around the younger shoulder, leading his distressed sibling down the sewers and to his room. Donnie isn’t sure how to feel anymore, torn between his father and brother's words, being pulled between self-hatred and love. He can feel the protective brother's eyes on him, making him slightly uncomfortable, but he knows Raph isn’t judging him, his eyes full of nothing but concern and love. But knowing doesn’t stop his racing thoughts from coming up with alternative motives. Pushing the curtain to his room aside, Raph quickly hit the light switch bathing the room in shadows, making way for his fairy lights. Casting a soothing pink light over his bed and many stuffed animals. 

Donnie made his way to the bed without a word, leaving a concerned Raph behind in the doorway. Curling into a ball he lets the purple weighted blanket engulf him, the many fluffy pillows and plushies squishing him making the invisible weight on his back feel lighter. Hiding his eyes behind his weighted fortress so the softshell can’t look at his brother's sadness. A dip in the bed told him Raph took a seat beside his curled-up body. Is he mad? Annoyed? Is he taking up too much space on the bed? Is-

“Don, deep breaths.” Oh, he was breathing too fast again. Damit. He can’t even breathe without being reminded how broken he is. “Donnie you are not broke.” The leader's sad voice ran out, breaking the fragile atmosphere. Shit, he spoke out loud again, didn’t he. Braving the world again the mutant peaked out of his cocoon, making eye contact with a concerned Raph. A sad sigh escapes the leader's lips, vision down casting to his own lap. “Listen Dee, I'm sorry Dad says those things to ya.” His eyes meet Donnie's again with determination like he knows for a fact what he’s saying is fact. “But none of it is true.” 

How does he look so sure of himself? How can he say that with such confidence? “But…” The turtle in the blanket paradise starts, words escaping before they can be realized to the world. “Donnie you got autism.” He flinches slightly at the term as if what his brother had said had physically hurt. “Having a disability doesn't make you any different than us Dee, you aren't broken.” Donnie wants to yell and shake Raph till he gets it, till he understands what seems so obvious to him. “But dad knows I-I do… And he still says and does stuff that hurts me. So it must be true. Right?” God he hates this, The concerned sadness on the snapping turtle's face. He hates it when people give him those faces. He never knows what they mean. He’s figured out splinter sure and Mikey is easy to read always wearing his heart on his sleeve. But for Donnie Raph’s mystery. 

He scooches across the bed closer to Donnie, closing the distance between them. “Can I touch you?” After giving him a curt nod Raph gently holds the one hand peeking out of his blanket pile, holding him firmly, as if Donnie were a balloon and holding him too light might cause him to float away. “Donatello, Dad… Dad isn’t exactly a great parental figure.” The purple mutant couldn’t help the small sad chuckle that escaped at Ralph's words, no real humor behind it. “He doesn’t really understand. That isn’t an excuse though, and it ain’t fair I know.” Moving his thumb in a circle on his little brother's palm to help ground him, the snapping turtle thinks carefully about his words before continuing.

“But, no matter how your feeling or what he says, you’ll always have your brothers to catch ya. You’ll always have me.” Donnie hadn’t realized he was crying again till tears dripped off his checks and onto Raphs hand that held his own. He uncurls and sits up, sitting beside Raph, the action feeling easier then before, lighter. “P-Promise?” The red turtle smiled proudly before opening his arms, an invitation. “Promise.” Partially throwing himself onto Raph he let’s himself break. Donnie knows he’ll always be there to help pick up the pieces, to help make a world that feels so wrong, just a little more right. 

Roses are red, 🥀 Violets are blue, 🔵 Donnie had autism,♾️ And his brain is like stew, 🍲

[5-htagonist]

dunmesh genderswap au thoughts...

so kabrus backstory remains essentially the same in my au, when taken by milsiril and assimilated into elven culture she is dressed more femininely than she was before thus incurring gender awakening. i dont think it would be a huge struggle for her except for being infantilized, but that happens with my canon compliant trans kabru hc as well. i hc it as a small part of why he left home-- to pursue gender affirmation magic/surgery/whatever without being told You cant know what you want youre baby. so tfem kabru also leaves to become an adventurer etcetcetc.

fem laios is where stuff differs. i REALLY REALLY like the idea of her being a single, possibly teen mom. i think she would still be super close with falin, still be horrified at how he was treated. but i dont think falin would be sent away. as a boy, he would have the agency to Leave rather than be sent away.

i imagine the attempts to beat the magic out of falin would be replaced by manual labor or something at first, due to the maleness. to me, the story about falin and her persecution are very very very much connected with womanhood-- women cant know too much, be too powerful, or theyre a witch. i think its possible boyfalin would instead be coveted for his magic, and leave because of this. a large part of falins character is lacking agency, and i think this would manifest for boyfalin with the village using him for his magic at a point. i think its possible they might idolize and demonize him at the same time, the autism is still there. everyone probably thinks hes weird and could blow the whole village up if they piss him off, which they would always be scared of due to falin being very calm. they would think hes just hiding that Male Rage or whatever. i think without a proper teacher, maybe some sort of mishap happens that pushes falin to leave. i dont know if it would regard laios, but maybe falin hurts her or feels hes at risk of hurting her/their family/the village so he leaves to avoid that. i think hed probably leave before laios has her baby-- maybe falin leaves for magic school when hes 12 to parallel canon laios...

more paragraphs Below!

laios, being a girl, would have a significant lack of agency comparatively. she would Not be able to just leave to join the army. so i think she would get arranged for a marriage, possibly have a child (heretofore known as laiosito) fairly young (im thinking 15 or 16 which is tragic but. realistic for a sort of "red neck"ish village...). laios would still be Weird and quiet, so the husband that was picked would probably be someone who is also at least a little weird and definitely detached, but ultimately he and laios wouldnt be close at all. lots of going thru the motions. i think shed be A Great Mom (learned what Not to do from her parents) about half the time, and the other half shed be burnt out and bedridden. shed be constantly masking the best she knows how (shutting up) on top of having to be Lady Like around others, so shed be pretty reclusive.

i think she might get sick of it all, maybe laiosito says something super profound (as kids often do without meaning to, and i just know laios isnt the type to dismiss someone just because theyre a kid) or maybe something happens to her husband, maybe he mistreats her or laiosito somehow, maybe laiosito is magically gifted and laios gets scared theyll be used and demonized like falin, idk. but she leaves, and i think shed go thru a similar path as canon-- laiosito would be as well cared for as possible, but shed be in the same state as she was in canon when she reunited with falin. falin would be so happy to be an uncle and help laios with her kid and laios would feel Super Fucking Guilty because falin didnt even KNOW she had a kid, and now laiosito is old enough to have real conversations... but ofc falin is there for her big sister....

maybe instead of leaving that night and looking for work and shelter, laios and laiosito crash in marcille and falins dorm. falin wouldnt want to take a kid to look for work without some recoup time from the trip...

i am a little stuck here, at the part where falin and laios in canon join the caravan and then try to form a party. however they end up at the island, whenever they do, the thing that draws them into the dungeon is other than curiosity is providing for laiosito. i think laiosito has heard stuff about dungeons and monsters, thru laios, then thru falin. being a kid, they dont know the actual danger. maybe falin is looking after laiosito and they run off at some point into the dungeon. he would find laiosito safe in like a 1st floor market or something being looked after by kind strangers (maybe kabrus party? then he would get berated for being a shitty dad LOL (falin thoughts: "...but im their uncle.... and i didnt even know they existed until this year...")

i think falin would tell laios about this and maybeee that would trigger something in laios. though i dont think theyd go dungeoning for a few years. its mostly falin taking odd jobs, but they would take turns looking after laiosito until the kid is older. maybe laiosito makes friends with one chilchucks kids and he babysits the kid.... chils kids would be 14, so definitely old enough to babysit)

so they form their party pretty similar to canon, but laiosito would be 11 by the start of canon. almost old enough to join the army... falin gets eated, laios sends mail to whomever is babysitting laiosito updating on the situation and why she wont be back for a while. laios isnt happy to not see her baby for an indeterminate amount of time, but shes confident theyll at least live... but laiosito sees the letter and goes Oh Shit.... I Have To Help Save Uncle Falin..... so laiosito runs off to the dungeon. i think they would be magically gifted like falin, and i think falin would have given them some tutoring. they are not scared of the dungeon, its just their mom and uncles cool job to them despite laios and falins best efforts to emphasize the danger.

now.... i think laiosito would run into kabrus party. theyre always having to start over, so maybe the kid saw them on the first level a couple years ago, that first time they saw the dungeon. i think they would have left a strong impression-- especially kabru (for her eyes) and kuro (doggy). they care for laiosito, because kabru knows this is laios' kid (knew she had a kid and laiosito looks just like her), and also because laiosito refuses to give her any info that could interrupt their mission of Help Save Falin. they tried dropping the kid in town at a playground or other Kid Gathering Grounds and laiosito just comes back. so. they keep them around plus they are a really strong mage for a kid. kabru of course sees this as the perfect opportunity to get close to laios, plus as weird and antisocial as laios kind of seems kabru is ECSTATIC to meet her kid LOL. laiosito ends up really liking kabru even if shes kind of weird and scary sometimes. rin scares them but they are friends. they get along excellently with kuro and probably picks up on her language, at least a little bit.

so they would make SURE laiosito knows healing magic, and that they know to heal holm and rin FIRST!! laiosito is precocious and smart and already figured that out though, and with falins tutoring they are a great healer already. so kabrus party doesnt die like they did as much, but.... they still do. laiosito is usually able to escape, though... but i do think they would have at least 1 death with kabrus party. would it phase them? well. maybe. but i think they would feel invincible, and this isnt a good thing.

laiosito is awestruck when they see faligon until they realize he isnt in full control of himself. then theyre horrified and freeze and have to be protected. kabru is horrified that she let a kid into this situation (she didnt. that kid would have dungeoned no matter what, and because laiosito desired to see their mom and uncle, as well as see the dungeon, they would have always ended up at that nexus). laios is horrified she left her kid and didnt even consider they might have followed, and that she prioritized anything over her kid, even if said priority was falin.

at this point, laiosito would join back with laios' party. marcille and chilchuck would ream laios over leaving her kid (with that girls party??? the one thats always dying????). poor laios. senshi is the only one that really hears her out on her situation. laiosito LOOOOOVESSSS senshi!! and chilchuck and marcille too but they kind of scare them bc of how they talk to laios lol.

my thoughts are still baking on this....

my 3 alt routes for fem laios are:

teen mom, runs away with her kid when theyre is old enough to speak and walk well (like, 6 or 7 maybe. she would run away in her early 20s) (laios rough timeline: 12: engagement and marriage shortly after. 15: falin leaves before she finds out shes pregante. 22: abandons marriage and goes to falins school. 24: starts trying to form party)

teen mom, leaves her kid with her parents or husband as an older teen

teen mom, leaves before pregnancy is too far along (maybe seeking an abortion?) 15 or 16

leaves when pushed to have a baby (this could be her as a teen or her early 20s)

[mkaroy]

headcanons of the spelling bee kids & adults for funzies ( most of which were influenced by fellow cast members )

Olive:

-she doesn’t like the idea of labelling herself but not straight, she/her

-dating barfee she totally forced her and barfee to have a ship name, it’s ovbarfvsky, chip thinks it’s funny

-dream job is a stay at home mom who runs a radio

-likes reading classical books

-still calls marcy occasionally but has lost contact with most of the other spellers

-her mom never came back, so she started sending her letters to mitch, in which he wrote back

Barfee:

-straight white man…, asexual, he/him

-autism

-started his sea anemone collection when he was 5 and has loved it since

-eventually grew out his ego

-also reads classical books but secretly reads those kids books that are diary style (ex: dear dumb diary)

-he stims a lot by tapping his foot or bouncing his legs, also a nail bitter, not out of anxiety but just out of boredom usually

Marcy:

-aromantic/questioning, she/her

-really into piano and violin but now she uses them to play really hard metal songs for fun

-she’s really into pop culture stuff but she’s also an environmentalist, so she keeps a closet of mostly graphic shirts of shows she likes and jeans

-stranger things fan; nancy is her favourite

-but i’m a cheerleader is one if not her favourite movies, she also finds megan relatable

Logainne:

-lesbian, had a crush on olive during the bee and a bit after that (obviously), she/her trans woman

-adhd & half jewish

-wears suits to any occasion, even in her sleep sometimes

-she’ll watch anything with gay or jewish rep in it and give it a surprisingly harsh rating

-her favourite show is bobs burgers

-stims include pacing, jumping, pulling of twirling hair and fumbling with her fingers

-doesn’t have volume control and often speaks too loudly for most people

-had to get braces on her top row of teeth in her later teen years

Chip:

-bisexual, he/him

-adhd diagnosed early

-a total try hard in school, especially gym

-he stims in ‘discrete’ ways, basically leg bouncing and pacing and his big 2

-kids at his school find him weird, but no one ever talks about it

-had a crush on olive but it went nowhere especially after his, distraction

-secretly a mama’s boy and tries hard to put his heart in his mother’s day gift

-super good at the piano for some reason

-the marigold thing only went on for 3 years before chip started liking a guy in his class instead of her

-great at public speaking and persuasive essays but sucks at talking to one person head on

-has braces AND a pubestache, the braces are colourful

-mom picks out most of his clothes still

-chip is the one that put peanuts in the brownies

Leaf:

-gay, he/they, adhd

-total outdoor kid

-tons of his clothes have pride flags sewn into them but most people don’t notice

-considers the spelling bee kids to be his best friends and sometimes just shows up at their house uninvited

-he likes spending time with logainne mostly because she’s loud and excitable like him

-plays the cat piano in his spare time

-always keeps cat food on him to give to stray cats he finds

-his homeschooling schedule absolutely terrible, sometimes he just walks into the woods for hours and doesn’t come back until dark, and nobody in his house notices

Panch:

-so straight, perhaps even homophobic on top of being misogynistic

-his favourite WAS chip, until the, erection business

-after courting rona and getting a restraining order, he moved onto another realtor, he has a thing for them

-doesn’t know how to iron or wash clothes properly

-went back to, unhealthy coping habits for lack of better words, after rona left

Rona:

-bisexual she/her

-the indigenous farmer she met was a woman obviously

-doing much better for herself after getting rid of panch

-didn’t find out about her sexuality until she met that farmer

-she truly loves kids and hopes to adopt someday

-her original dream job was a hairstylist, but she had no natural knack for the job and was much better at persuasion and public speaking

Mitch:

-TRANS

-acted out and went to jail for beating someone up

-cares about olive the most though he won’t tell

-his least favourite kid is chip but he doesn’t hate any of them

-as the years went on he started giving the losers more than juice boxes, stickers and participation awards were added

-one of those tough guys who has a flock of parrots in his house who he’s suprisingly gentle with

-went through a buzz cut phase, it was not cool.

[noisycowboyglitter]

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[nono-uwu]

Vent lol

For someone who tries to be nonchalant i sure do crave other's approval a lot

I should stop comparing myself to others ffs amd stop caring about notes and attention and shit. Someone bash my head against a wall till i comprehend it

I'll admit it, I want people to tell me how awesome and smart my ideas are. How much of a fucking genius i am. To ask me to elaborate on certain points. To ask questions. To be like the big creators with popular oc's. But that won't happen. I'm just a teen with autism and big, niche, inconsequential ideas (gifted kid burnout go brrrr)

Drawing consistently for ~5 years and it still looks so shit. I could try to improve. But i won't because i'm lazy and unmotivated. No wonder no one cares if my art looks like shit. At least i have the dignity not to use ai lol

If someone actually reads this, take it with a bucket of salt. I'm just going thru it rn. I'll be fine soon enough. I hope

[natasha-in-space]

Hi Mia, I know I am an anonymous stranger asking you this so if you'd rather not answer feel free to delete

I wanted to ask, what was it like right after dropping out of college? What did you do afterwards?

It's no problem at all, anon! I've kinda talked about it in my tags from time to time, so it's not something I'm particularly ashamed of. (usually that is)

And, uh.... fair warning, this is gonna get kind of dark and probably a bit depressing. I do occasionally mention my experiences on here in passing, but I tend to not talk about them in depth. So... kind of a CW for talks of past child abuse (I don't go in depth but it's implied) and severe mental health issues.

So, thing is, I was kind of forced to drop out. Though it was still technically my choice. But, at the same time, I don't think I had much of a choice, if that makes sense. As a teen, I hated school, and while I was a what you would call a 'gifted kid', adored by teachers and envied by classmates, I didn't put much effort or passion into my studies. I did finish school with pretty good grades, though. Got into college. It was there when I actually started to enjoy the process of learning and education as a whole. I went from being a pretty good student to quite literally one of the best once I started actually putting in the effort to study instead of just winging it by as I did before that.

But I also started off my independent life when I was in college. It should have been a good thing. And it was a good thing. (You're gonna hear lots of contradicting statements here, and that's something I had to accept). I finally got out of the abusive environment I've spent my entire life in. But, thing is, I learned the hard way that just getting out is not enough to actually get better. Once I was out, finally safe and free to do whatever I want with no danger or restrictions, I paradoxically fell into the darkest mental space I've ever been in. Now that I'm older, I know that it's unfortunately normal for abuse survivors. But I didn't back then. I had no friends because I used to be an anxious, traumatized teenager with undiagnosed autism who had no idea how to socialize, nor did she really want to. And I never got to grow out of that, despite now being an adult, living on my own and making my own choices. Thus, came the consequences of my antisocial lifestyle up until that point. I had no one to talk to. No one to help me out with the groceries, studies, anything really. I was completely and utterly on my own, and before that, I thought that that's the way I want to be.

But I felt lost, lonely, and depressed. It got so bad that I would sometimes spend an entire day stuck in bed, not doing anything, including eating, brushing my teeth or changing clothes. Basically, depression in its clearest. Like I said, I didn't have a support system. I was on my own, and it's kind of my own fault that it got like this. Yes, I was hurt and traumatized, but I was also highly avoidant and distant from everyone, even those who genuinely had good intentions. I still deal with my avoidant attachment style up to this day, because I know it's not healthy.

I had the 'everyone will hurt me, no one will understand me, so I'm safest by myself' mentality. Don't do that. Isolating yourself like that will only make it worse. Had to learn that the hard way.

Long story short, I dropped out. I couldn't handle studying, and I needed help. I wasn't attending my classes, I had no motivation to even make myself food, much less study, and I lost all sense of hope for the future. Was I happy with my choice? No, I was heartbroken over it. I felt like a failure. I still do, honestly. Most people my age have at least one degree, some even more. They have friends and connections they've made in college. Experiences I never got to have, and probably never will, because I am not getting younger. Some have successful careers that I am amazed by. Some married and even had kids. Meanwhile, I'm still stuck figuring myself out, without much to my name. Because I never really got to grow up. It's hard not to feel like I'm missing out. But I try not to think about it.

I went into therapy, I slowly but surely have gotten better. It was a long process. I've stumbled and given up many times. Unpacking all of my trauma and how it effected me into adulthood was debilitating and painful. You have to deal with the fact that you were robbed of the chance to have a normal, happy life, and you can't do anything about it. There was some morbid comfort in thinking that 'there is something wrong with me'. It gave me a sense of control. If it's my fault I felt useless and unmotivated, then I could fix it. Even if I never actually did that. But accepting that all of this misery is actually a consequence of someone else's actions that have hurt you this deeply... it makes you feel helpless and angry. Like there is nothing you can do.

But it does get better. Doesn't get perfect. I still have bad days, and I still feel pretty lost in life, to be honest. I have no idea what I want to do. Nor do I have any plans for the future. But I do want to go to college one day. I love learning and I enjoy challenging my brain with new tasks to try and overcome. I would do that right now, if it wasn't as expensive as it is. I cannot afford higher education. I would risk it and take out a loan if I had confidence that I will be able to get a job and pay it off after getting my degree. But I don't. Because tons of folks with degrees cannot find a job for months on end, and I see how miserable it makes them. And I'd much rather have some stability in my life.

I got a job that I actually find joy in, though I don't think I'll be doing that for the rest of my life. I got a lovely circle of friends that I can rely on. I got a creative hobby there to keep me happy. It's not ideal, but I'm content with my life, and sometimes I'm even happy. I have no idea what the future will bring, but, honestly, I'd much rather focus on today and now.

I guess that's all to say that... dropping out is not always pretty and freeing. Then again, there's a difference between dropping out because you have no further intention to continue your studies, and dropping out due to circumstances out of your control. But it's not the end of the world. You stumble, you fall and you even regress, but you somehow get back up again. You find new things to do and enjoy. Life goes on. And it's still worth living for.

[bug-decal-kissing]

Hey friends!

A new work, Grating by ineedlemonade, was published today, with 1/1 Chapters released! It has a rating of Mature and Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, with additional tags "Short & Sweet, Violent Thoughts, Caretaking, Denial of Feelings, Feelings, Introspection, Dialogue Light, Old Age, Light Angst, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Not Beta Read, Dehumanization, Unresolved Tension, Exactly What It Says on the Tin, Hair Brushing, Past Neglect"

You can read it here:

OLD MAN PRISMO CONTENT LET'S GO !!! I love the contrast of Scarab treating Old Man Prismo so tenderly and then turning around and immediately yelling at Prismo, like my sweet beetle boy what are you dOINg/j/lh.

A new work, Nostalgia by demoncreek, was published today, with 1/1 Chapters released! It has a rating of General Audiences and No Archive Warnings Apply, with additional tags "Gift Giving, Emotions, Confusion, how do i even tag this lmao, basically scarab doesn't know how feelings workand prismo does, Feelings, Feels, someone help me tag this hkjdfshvbkjsdf, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, i guess? kinda???, Nostalgia, Author Is Sleep Deprived, i wrote this in like a couple different sessions so it's very patchy"

You can read it here:

Scarab having no idea how emotions work is so true and canon. I love it. I love his little diary, and the fact that he writes with his claws is genius :]. This one is so good, I love it so much !!!

A new work, Prohibited Wish Highschool AU, by Mitch_D_Punk, was published today, with 1/11 Chapters released! It has a rating of Teen And Up Audiences and No Archive Warnings Apply, with additional tags "Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Slow Burn, Robotics"

You can read it here:

I am EXCITED for this one !!! Let them make their little robots and develop a strong and beautiful friendship >:]<. Prismo being nervous about no one showing up for the club and Scarab just being like '??? i said i would be there idiot' is so funny to me. Anxiety and autism for real for real/j.

Seraphyllic, by DrakianDH, was updated today, with 9/15 Chapters released! It has a rating of Teen And Up Audiences and Graphic Depictions Of Violence, and Major Character Death, with additional tags "scarab the god auditor - Freeform, prismo the wishmaster - Freeform, Priscrab, ProhibitedWish, Scrabby, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, no beta we get turned to legos like the lich, Adventure & Romance, Story within a Story, Eventual Happy Ending, Maybe - Freeform, Author Is Sleep Deprived, The Author Regrets Nothing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, You gotta work for the comfort, begining poem important, each chapter a word, prepare"

You can read it here:

PRISMO IS JUST GENUINELY CONCERNED FOR SCARAB AND SCARAB DOESN'T UNDERSTAND; THIS IS GOING TO CAUSE ME EMOTIONAL AGONY FOR THE FORESEEABLE FUTURE/j. He is so confused and expecting to get in trouble but king. This is Prismo you're talking to he does NOT care and I LOVE IT <3.

Whim of Wind took me South, by Thehyperfixationking, was updated today, with 4/? Chapters released! It is Not Rated and No Archive Warnings Apply, with additional tags "Attempted Murder, very unsuccessful attempted murder, Eventual Romance, Alternate Universe, Slow Burn, Sorry Not Sorry, Hurt/Comfort, Multiverse Travel, no beta we die like old man prismo, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, no rating yet cause the whole story isn't written may change, Enemies to Lovers, Farmworld (Adventure Time), Finn Mertens - Freeform, Jay Mertens - Freeform, Jake (Adventure Time) - Freeform, but like Farmworld Jake, Unique Weapons choice"

You can read it here:

Please let Solstice rest even though he was just asleep, the man is so eepy :[/lh. Scarab is so boyfailure in this work I love it. Keep the bar on the floor king <3/j. I also like see the parallels to the show, with Farmworld popping up and (possibly) the winter kingdom next :].

NSFW works are below the cut :].

A new work, Golden Touch by Anonymous, was published today, with 1/1 Chapters released! It has a rating of Explicit and No Archive Warnings Apply, with additional tags "Alternate Universe - Pirate, Breathplay, gold - Freeform, Worship, Under-negotiated Kink, corsets, Feelings, the mortifying ordeal of being seen"

You can read it here:

MORE PIRATE AU :]!! My emotions about this AU are very conflicted; on one hand PIRATES on the other hand I WANT TO VIOLENCE PIRATE PRISMO A LITTLE BIT/lh. Although seeing him be like 'the gold is good but so are yo u' and then Scarab rebooting a little bit at that was funny >:]/pos.

[kiragecko]

I posted 766 times in 2022

55 posts created (7%)

711 posts reblogged (93%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@whetstonefires

@tuesdayisfordancing

@unpretty

@broosepayne

I tagged 736 of my posts in 2022

Only 4% of my posts had no tags

#described - 78 posts

#undescribed - 44 posts

#neurodivergence - 42 posts

#fandom meta - 24 posts

#linguistics - 24 posts

#people write things - 22 posts

#adhd - 21 posts

#mental health issues - 18 posts

#food - 18 posts

#autism - 17 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#(not sure about the lisp. phonetic accents are slightly painful to read. especially when i'm already dealing with him having my level of soc

I sent 1 gift in 2022

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Finally started the first Murderbot novella. It just wants to be locked in cargo holds, and stored in its tiny storage locker, and Not Have To Talk To Humans!

Yes, SecUnit, I understand this urge. I, too, want to be useful without having to feel icky emotions. I, too, want to spend all of my time engaging with media instead of people.

It is SO DISAPPOINTED when the humans ask it to ride in the ship’s cabin with them!

I can’t stop giggling.

148 notes - Posted March 2, 2022

#4

I love autistic writers.

They aren’t a monolith, of course. Every authour is different, no trait applies to everyone, etc. etc. Some of the things I appreciate don’t even apply to all of the half-dozen autistic writers follow on Tumblr. Some allistic people write in similar ways.

But I love the way many autistic people just ... don’t include traditional breathing space in their stories. Most stories ebb and swell, building up tensions and then providing rest, building up emotion and then providing a moment of catharsis. The reader’s speed is faster when the book is tense, and slower when things are calm. All Systems Red (the first Murderbot book, which I finished 10 minutes ago) doesn’t do that. A lot of autistic-written fanfic doesn’t either. Instead, the story moves at the same pace, whether characters are about to die or they’re feeling a bit socially awkward.

The first time I read a story like this, I thought it was weak writing. I felt like I wasn’t properly in the viewpoint character’s head. These days, I love it.

One thing about neurodivergence that is hard to grasp from the outside, is that we frequently don’t WANT to fit in perfectly. Acceptance is wonderful, but fitting in usually requires losing parts of ourselves. Our whole life is trying to navigate a world that forces us into roles that don’t fit, and then people assuming our distress is about not being shaped correctly. The idea we might want to roles to be flexible enough to handle OUR shape seems foreign to other people.

Murderbot isn’t asking us to feel its emotions. We aren’t supposed to be able to fit in its head, understand it completely. Murderbot wants us to accept its perspective, not necessarily share it. And there’s a soaring feeling inside of me at that thought. At the thought of being allowed to connect with what I CHOOSE to connect with, rather than what the authour decided I should. With choosing my own pause points, my own speed, my own reactions.

I definitely connect with Murderbot. I, too, am a socially anxious asexual who doesn’t relate with most of humanity. Eye contact is hostile, and I wore a headscarf as a teen for similar reasons to its love of its helmet. But I love the fact that the story allows me to connect from a distance. We don’t have to be identical to understand each other, and the differences aren’t dissonant. They’re just fact.

I fell in love with my husband partially for this reason. His straight-forward acceptance of the weird, hyperactive person I am. He was interested in me, but didn’t need to understand everything. I think it’s something that many neurodivergent people value - none of us are easy to summarize, but so many people won’t interact with us until they boil us down to a few key traits. The rest of us s supposed to stay hidden, I guess, or maybe abandoned?

It’s so freeing to read like this. I love deeply connecting to characters. Mapping other people’s heads is part of how I navigate the world, how I interact in ways people will accept. (I’ve spent the last two weeks navigating my OWN head by reading fic that goes deep into its characters’ minds. Had some good insights.) But All Systems Red doesn’t ask for that.

It’s such a relief.

184 notes - Posted March 2, 2022

#3

I'm getting really tired of this 'likes don't matter' BS. Likes matter. They just don't help a post circulate.

Likes show the OP that you enjoyed the post. This is often unappreciated by popular blogs, but it matters, especially to smaller blogs. Likes increase the note-count, and signify how many people are seeing and interacting with a post. They are signs of appreciation.

The whole concept of curating your followers' experience breaks down if the only way of appreciating something is reblogging it. I am not going to follow someone who reblogs everything they even slightly enjoy - I want the best of the best. My experience here is good because I only follow people with great taste!

But I also want to tell people I like their post, even if it's a private enjoyment.

Circulation isn't everything. There's value in people pausing to tell you that they liked what you created.

229 notes - Posted November 1, 2022

#2

The Tiger Poem in Classical Maya!

The Tiger He has destroyed his cage Yes Yes The tiger is out By Nael, Age 6

Literal translation:

he-destroyed his-captive-place the-tiger yes-yes he-came.out the-tiger his-writing master-Na'el man[of]-6-years

Transliteration:

ʔu-jomow ʔu-baaknal ʔu-balahm xt xt Joyoy ʔu-balahm ʔu-tz'ibaal Aj-Naʔel Aj-6-habiy

Character Transliteration (ALL CAPS are characters that stand for full words, lower case are syllabic):

ʔu-jo-mo-wa ʔu-ba-ki-NAL ʔu-BALAM-la-ma xa-ta-xa-ta jo-JOY-yi ʔu-BALAM-ma ʔu-tz'i-ba-li AJ-na-ʔe-le AJ-6-HAB-bi-ya

278 notes - Posted March 14, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Lately, I’ve been thinking a LOT about how Bruce Wayne pretty clearly goes non-verbal when emotional/distracted/stressed. Reduced to grunts, poorly thought out actions, or inappropriate statements (usually in the form of commands).

Shutdowns are a valid way to deal with being overwhelmed. His, however, are destructive. He needs to learn how to work through them in a healthier manner.

-

I REALLY want a Bruce who gets out his phone and writes down what he’s trying to say. Where people who care about him go and sit down, waiting the 5 minutes he needs to craft a response, understanding that the effort he’s putting in is a sign of caring.

I want a Bruce who makes it clear that he needs transition time. That he can’t talk to people while researching on the computer, but if it’s something important, give him a minute or two and he’ll get off and focus on you. A Bruce who recognizes that even though cases ARE important, his family/friends are also important, and he needs to trust them when they say he should switch focus.

A Bruce who turns their nightly medical check-ins into time to hear his kids’ thoughts, because he knows he’ll start hyper-focusing the minute he starts writing his report, so he needs to schedule time for them first.

A Bruce who trains himself into purely defensive physical reactions when he shuts down - protecting himself and those with him, but not attacking until he can make plans again. Who trains himself out of using deadly weapons when his opponent is affecting his judgement - no bladed or explosive weapons when they have hostages and he’s panicking, or they’ve threatened his kids, etc.

A Bruce who makes scripts for when he’s on patrol and needs to talk down villains, or calm down victims. Who includes script writing in his evening prep - making sure he's ready for likely outcomes to his current cases. Who, whenever he can, has someone listening in over coms, so if things go off script, or he freezes up, he can get a prompt.

-

I don’t want a Bruce that gets better by learning how to communicate neurotypically.

I want one who needs to find adaptive strategies. Who has to grudgingly accept that he has limits, and learn to navigate them. Who learns that making things easier for himself makes many things easier for others, because he hurts people less.

I want to see him grow in the ways I’m trying to grow.

3,928 notes - Posted June 17, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[wosoamazing]

Amada

Ingrid Engen x Mapi León x Child!R (who has Autism)

A/N: I hope this makes sense and isn't confusing. I also hope I did it justice in terms of the Autism side of things. Let me know what you think. (Also I know there were requests for a Teen!R with Autism but I'm still trying to get more solid ideas for that and decide whether I actually want to write that, so for now here is this)

“Bon dia,” Alexia said as she sat down on the floor of the locker room, next to you, you were lining up your penguin toys, the light hit the bench in such a way that it created an ever slight shadow, one that your mothers had tried to inspect once before but could barely see it, something to you that was so obvious. You enjoyed using it to line up your penguins. 

“On eres ahir? (where were you yesterday)” Alexia asked.

“We were at an appointment, for Freyja,” unlike most four year olds you didn’t turn your head at the mention of your name, you just continued to line up your penguin toys.

You were heavily interested in penguins, the interest was sparked when Alexia gifted you a Little Penguin plush for your second birthday, the only penguin of your collection that didn’t have a friend nor did you ever ask for it to have a friend, it was your ‘Alexia penguin’. It was special to you.

“Qui és? (Who is this?)” Alexia asked you, pointing to one of your newest additions to your collection. Your Mum’s had bought you two new penguin toys yesterday after your appointment, for being good, they were both the exact same type. 

“Crested Penguin. Endemic to the New Zealand Region. Only breed on Bounty and Antipodes Islands, their chicks fledged in February,” you rattled off, and Alexia just nodded at you.

-

As more of the girls started to filter into the locker room, Mapi and Ingrid’s attention was drawn away from you, however when Ingrid looked over to glance at you she noticed you doing your ‘potty wiggle’.

“Freyja, do you need to go to the toilet?” Ingrid asked you quietly, you were now sitting at her feet, ‘talking’ to the penguin that sat next her, you just looked up at her and thought about it, before shrugging your shoulders, “I think you do. I’ll take you now and then you can do some colouring in,” you perked up at that suggestion and so stood up next to her, quickly realising you did need to go.

—

“How did your appointment yesterday go?” Frido asked your Mum.

“Good, they are pretty sure she has Autism, which is hard, but we kind of knew that going in,” Ingrid sighed.

“That’s good though, it means now you know how best to support her and help her achieve and grow into an amazing little human,” Frido said as she hugged her friend, who just nodded.

It was the first game day since your diagnosis and since your mothers did their online shopping spree. Some of the many things they bought were many pairs of ear defenders, in many different colours, one thing you also did was make sure everything you were wearing matches, which meant to make the ear defenders successful they needed to have many options. The night they arrived you were already asleep, which Mapi was grateful for, as it allowed her to stay up and customise some of them for you, before you saw them. She added a blue ‘cross’ onto each ear of the red pair, so you had a pair that you could wear with your Norway jersey. On one of the darker blue pairs she covered half of each ear piece with a maroon patch, creating two stripes downwards, for Barça games, she also had two Barça badge stickers which she stuck onto one of the white pairs. For this game you had chosen to wear the blue and maroon ‘striped’ pair.

-

Ingrid was on the bench so you sat with her, well more on her, making sure to sit forward on her knee, you didn’t like the feeling of the subs bib against your skin, so you made sure to sit as far forward as possible as to not let it touch you. Your Alexia Penguin as you called it sat in the seat next to you, along with some new fidget items and your water bottle. You were wearing your Engen-León Jersey and a pair of leggings, with your white Nikes. Like you always did. However this game was slightly different to the rest, you enjoyed it more, as your ear defenders helped muffle all the sounds around you. 

It was an ordinary day in training until it wasn’t, one minute everything was normal and you were colouring in your penguin pattern and the next your Mami was on the ground, with heaps of people around her.

“Freyja, do you think you could come with me and help me get another water bottle?” Frido asked you, having noticed you were getting overwhelmed very quickly, you were now standing next to your blanket on the grass, rocking back and forth on your feet, your eyes were wide and your hands fiddled with the bottom of your jacket, the way they always did when you were overwhelmed. She had seen your mothers prevent a meltdown before by distracting you and seeing if you wanted to help, whilst phrasing the question in a way that was more of an instruction. She just hoped that it would work, knowing that Mapi needed Ingrid. You had gone silent and you weren’t talking, so Frido guided you into a room inside the facility.

“¿Dónde está Freyja? (where is Freyja?)” Your Mami breathed out, clutching your Mum’s hand tightly.

“Frido la ha llevado adentro. (Frido has taken her inside.)” Alexia told her, having watched Frido go with you, Alexia’s words caused both women to look up at her, “¿Quieres que vaya con ella? (Do you want me to go to her?),” all Alexia needed was a slight nod before she was running down into the locker room. She took her jersey off and threw the hoodie she had worn in today over her head, having never been more thankful over her hoodie selection choice. She took two of your fidgets out of your bag and grabbed your ‘Alexia Penguin’ from its spot on the bench. She also made sure to get one of the blankets in your bag and your Mami’s home water bottle, knowing you drank from that one. She hadn’t thought to get yours as she passed it, now regretting that choice but having to live with it anyway. 

She found the room you were in, and very quietly opened the door. Frido was doing her best to calm you down but it wasn’t working much, you were now shaking your head repetitively as well. Alexia flicked the light switch off as she entered, as well as making sure to turn the fan on low, even though it was winter she knew you enjoyed the hum of the fan.

Alexia silently sat down, a few steps away from you and placed the items she had in her hands on the floor, you immediately picked up your penguin and held onto it tightly.

“Ella,” Alexia said causing you to look at her immediately, it was something only she called you, she had the privilege of choosing your middle name and so was insistent on giving it a use, your Mum was weary about letting Alexia choose it, but she admittedly had chosen a good a name, giving your name a Spanish side (apart from your last name of course), Freyja Estrella Engen-León.

You continued to rock back and forth on your feet, small tears falling from your eyes, as you decided whether you wanted to go over to Alexia or not. It had been around 5 minutes before you decided Alexia was safe, you tentatively walked over to her and leant forward, allowing her to wrap her arms around you softly, and you relaxed into her, rubbing your face on the soft fabric of her jumper, it was warm and fuzzy, and felt nice. Eventually you found yourself falling asleep in Alexia’s arms, her small rocking motion guiding you in calming down.

[perseephoneee]

Hi! First off, I love your fics!! Could I possibly request a ship for The Vampire Diaries universe, Doctor Who and Teen Wolf pretty please?

My pronouns are she/her

I'm demisexual (also panromantic)

I'm the friend who remembers everything. Like every detail of the night of Friend A's 21st birthday despite us all being very drunk.

I want loyalty, respect, and someone who makes me feel cherished in a relationship

I like to read, play video games, bake, learn about plants and rocks and memorize random factoids. I like all types of music. I prefer fantasy over SciFi, no idea why.

I like to paint but because I'm not good at actually making my art look like real things I just do abstract.

I'm an INTP

Leo Sun (8th House)

Cancer Moon (7th House)

Capricorn Rising (1st House)

Cancer Venus (6th House) - according to cafeastrology.com

My aesthetic is a mix of Green Academia and Bastardcore

I'm usually pretty reserved mostly because of self-preservation due to my mom and my "best friends" growing up being my biggest bullies.

I can be kind of awkward and weird (I blame the mixture of ADHD and autism)

I need to be comfortable with people before I let them touch me. Ironically I'm very touch starved.

But once I get comfortable around you I can be a feral gremlin who dotes on the people I care about and will not shut up about my hyper fixations and random factoids.

I put a lot of thought and work into gifts for the people I care about.

I definitely like animals more than people. Mostly because the most toxic my cat gets is smacking me in the face at 3 in the morning because he wants breakfast early.

I love to explore but I'm fairly introverted so I don't like being around large crowds.

I'm creative and love working with my hands.

Hope this is enough if you need any more information please let me know!

STOPP you’re so kind thank you for enjoying my writing 🥹