#you need only ask
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A scene from You need only ask, chapter 5 commissioned from @giselsann with my favourite little ginger girl, Charlotte Weasley ♥️
"My brother's wand can't do that. Can you still do magic like the rest of my family?" "Ominis is a charms wizz, sis," Garreth said. "Oh, really?" she said, gripping Ominis' leg as she clambered on the bench next to him. "Can I see?" Ominis smiled at the boisterous young girl and lifted his wand, casting a non-verbal Avis charm—a flock of twittering birds burst from the tip and flew about the kitchen as Charlotte cooed and ran after them, giggling happily.
#you need only ask#ominis gaunt#garreth weasley#garrinis#ominis gaunt fanart#garreth weasley fanart#garreth weasley x ominis gaunt#ominis gaunt x garreth weasley
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I meant to work on chapter 2 of the infamous (at this point it really is) You Need Only Ask... well, I ended up spending way too much time making this instead 🙃
Don't get me wrong though, I'm very proud of this moodbard. It really was a challenge to bring all the pieces together, especially as the cuddling pic is pretty low res... and none of the originals were taken at night!
Maybe I'll do a new drabble after that... or maybe, yet again, I'll try to do something with chapter 2. I mean, at least by now I've broken out of the loop of rewriting the opening lines again and again, so there's some hope.
#james bond#007#goldeneye#alec trevelyan#james bond/alec trevelyan#bondalec#you need only ask#moodboard#i will survive#i will surviiiiiive#as long as i know how to ship i know i'll finish it 🎵
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when will we talk about the willful helplessness epidemic on here. So many people on this god forsaken website demand to have any and all things that exist outside their personal experiences directly, personally pre-chewed and spoonfed to them. And when you do, they'll then ask for you to swallow for them, too, because, you see, in THEIR experience..,
#this is about people who show up in the replies asking shit that has already been answered in the replies#this is about people who show up in reblogs asking people to explain very obvious things to them that'd take one second of listening to#others' experiences to be aware of#For the love of god if you're presented with information or turns of ohrase that conflict with your personal experience don't just sit down#Consider that perhaps things unlike you exist and that things that are one way for you may be different for others#This isn't difficult you just need to stop centering yourself as the only point of reference you have#you're not. There is so much more than you out there. And you can hold it and know it#you just need to get the FUCK OVER YOURSELF#fucking christ#mumblr#problemnyatic thoughts
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Ooo perfect fall read!
Awww poor shy Marcus 🤭 Super cute that he’s all flustered but hopefully he’s able to actually be himself around her on their date! Or she could just keep finishing his sentences for him lmao
You Need Only Ask [professor!Marcus Pike x librarian!reader]
Read on Ao3
Pairing: History of Art professor Marcus Pike x art library reader/you (cishet female)
Tags/Warnings: Kind of pining idiots but only one is pining, everyone is being professional but it's clear that Marcus is a pining idiot, implied coworkers to lovers.
Summary: Professor Marcus Pike is one of those cliché absent-minded professors - or so you think, but maybe there's another reason why this brilliant academic is acting a dumb fool around you?
Words: 3,534
A/N: This was inspired by an ask sent to me by @just-here-for-the-moment for a fic ask game thingy. Here's the original ask and my reply. I didn't write it exactly like that (main difference is my fic is set in modern times), but I hope y'all still like it!
”Good morning.”
Your customer service smile in place, you look over your shoulder.
”Morning, Professor. Just give me a second and I will be right with you.”
He hums, and you turn back to the bookcase where you were just about to finish re-shelving returns. Once done, you join Marcus Pike, Professor of Art History, at the desk. He’s tapping his fingers, almost impercievably, against the surface of the old solid wood desk, and you stifle a sigh. He didn’t have to wait that long.
”What can I do for you?” you ask politely. Professor Pike is never rude, but he is the typical professor type: absent-minded, a little awkward, his research always the number one priority.
“I looked for this book in the online catalog, but as I suspected, you don’t have it. It’s probably sold out, too.” He gives you a piece of paper before both his hands disappear into his pockets.
“Another inter-library loan, then?” you state, looking at the title. It’s in French, and you know immediately that your library doesn’t have it. Professor Pike is not the most computer-skilled person, so you usually double-check every book he asks for in the database, but this one you know you don’t have.
“Might have to go international for this one,” you tell him. “Canada och Europe. That’s coming out of your department’s budget, you know that.”
“I’ll make room,” he shrugs, looking towards the door, like he can’t wait to get back to the comfort of his own office. “And could you please give me more time with the last one you got for me? I need it for a bit longer.”
“I’ll contact the lending library,” you nod. “I’ll let you know.”
“Great. Thank you.”
The “Sure thing” has barely left your mouth before Pike is out the door, the sound of his steps against the stone floor quickly disappearing down the hall. You shake your head before sitting down to look up the book for him.
As you work, you once again wonder how people like Marcus Pike get jobs at all. Someone as introverted as that would never have a real shot at getting a library job, which requires people skills, patience, and the ability to stand in front of people. But when it comes to academia, it seems like all you need is credentials and a good research profile, and you’re hired. Unlike you, who had to fight tooth and nail for this position. You have Master’s degrees in art and library science, educational and language studies, job experience, and it was still almost impossible to get this job. People who have these jobs never seem to retire but just sit there, year after year, until they eventually sprout roots that fasten them to their chairs.
But you’re here now, since five years, and while Pike’s predecessor never showed his face in the library but sometimes sent you cryptical emails requests that took you half a day to decipher, it’s nice to see that the much younger professor actually frequents the university’s special arts library.
Finally locating Pike’s book in a university library in France, you quickly find the instructions for ILL’s, and send a loan request. After that, you apply for more time for Pike’s previous book, and by afternoon, you have confirmation for both books: one will be mailed out later during the day in Europe, the other has been renewed. You let Pike know through an email, before performing closing duties in the library. Your computer pings just as you’re about to turn it off, and you see that it’s a reply from Pike. Clicking it up, you see the very unlikely response:
>>Amazing, what a service. Just bill the department, I’ve got it covered. Thank you so much 😊 <<
Shaking your head in disbelief at the informal tone, you turn off the computer, clock out, and go home.
Professor Pike is back two days later, now asking for a book that’s available. When you tell him so, he clears his throat, gaze flickering away from you.
“Could you maybe show me where it is?”
“Sure.” You’re curt, because this isn’t the first time. It’s an easy enough book to find, and every item in the library is labeled, and the database even has an interactive feature where you can click on the item’s call number to open up a layout of the stacks, showing the correct shelf in red. It has freed you up a lot now that most patrons can easily find their literature themselves, but some people just want you to do everything for them.
“You know, Professor, you could maybe my start of term library tour useful,” you dare to tease him as you walk before him to the right case. “Most freshmen find it very helpful, and they can usually manage their own information retrieval after.”
“I think maybe a little touch-up course would do me good,” he replies, voice a little tight. “But I like personal service.”
You find the book, pull it out, and hand it to him.
“That’s what I’m here for,” you tell him easily. “Anything else I can do for you?”
He swallows visibly.
“No, thank you.”
He uses the self check-out this time, and leaves quickly without saying goodbye. You shake your head, and catch the eye of Mandy, a Master’s student who works on her thesis in the library almost every day.
“Strange fellow, that one, isn’t he?”
She gives you a peculiar look. “I guess so.”
One thing that you appreciate a lot about your job is the building itself. The campus was built in Collegiate Gothic style in the middle of the 19th century, and compared to the nearby city library with its white surfaces, glass walls, and modern design furniture, the much quieter arts library still seems more alive. The library houses more books than one would think when first seeing it, and it has the charming nooks and crannies that are so common for old houses.
You’re standing in one of those nooks one day; an alcove that houses folios, a cart of tall books parked next to the step stool that you’re standing on. You hear someone enter the library, shout out a “Hello!” as you usually do to let patrons know that you’re in the stacks, and receive a low answer. Mindful not to hurt your wrists, you pick up another folio from the cart, and put it back in its place.
The sound of footsteps stops at the desk, and you pick up the next book.
“Be right with you!”
The patron moves again, slowly walking towards the corner where you are, as if looking for you. You turn your head just as you see Professor Pike come around the corner of a bookcase.
“Oh,” he clears his throat. “There you are.”
“Here I am,” you nod, picking up the next book. “Almost done.”
“I got your email about the book from France. They sent it rather fast.”
“I was surprised, too,” you admit. There’s one book left, and you really should get down from the stool, move it, and get up again, but you’re lazy. You reach, getting up on your toes, just barely getting the book into place when you feel the stool slip from under you. You gasp, a thousand thoughts rushing through your head during the split second you’re in free fall, and then you land softly, not on the floor, but against a corduroy chest, strong arms holding you.
“Shit, that was close!”
You’re tongue-tied, wide-eyed with shock, heart in your throat and going a mile a minute to make up for the missed beats.
“Are you okay?”
You slowly start to realize that you’re in the arms of Marcus Pike, who caught you when you fell from the stool. And he’s still holding you.
“Yeah, I, yeah, fine, I’m good.” You babble, moving uncomfortably to let him know to let you down, which he does with the utmost care. Your legs are wobbly, and Pike keeps a hand on your waist to make sure you won’t fall.
“Are you sure?”
“Positive,” you now giggle, embarrassed but simultaneously exhilarated by the rush of adrenaline. “That wasn’t stupid at all, was it? I’ve been thinking about having that stool replaced, but I never got around to it, haha. I guess it takes an accident for me to get my thumb out of my a-, I mean, to get it done.”
Your cheeks are heating up, your hands are shaking as you grab the handles of the cart, kicking the accursed stool to the side.
“That was really scary, though,” Pike tells you in a low voice. “You could’ve really injured yourself.”
“Yeah, thanks, I mean, thanks for catching me.” You bite your lower lip and force yourself to look at him. “I’m so embarrassed. I should’ve been more careful.”
“Just glad I was here,” he shrugs, slowly following you as you march to the desk. “Although one could argue that had I not been here, you wouldn’t have tried to restack that heavy book without moving your stool. Sorry if I stressed you.”
“You didn’t,” you tell him lightly. “I sometimes cut corners like that. It’s fine, no harm done.”
You park the cart in its spot behind the desk, and turn to the shelf of reserved books.
“Here’s your inter-library loan. Due date four weeks from now, if you need it for longer, you know the drill.”
“I do,” he replies quietly and accepts the book from you. Holding it in one hand, he carefully opens it with the other, and thoughtfully browses through it. You sit down, flustered and still a little shaky, hoping that he’ll leave so that you can nurse your wounded pride, and maybe have a drink of water.
“It’s about these eighteenth-century art frauds in Europe – “
“I know. I read the title,” you cut him off, more curt than you meant to. Pike closes the book and nervously fingers the paper slip in it.
“You read French?”
“I even speak it.”
A smile breaks out on his face. “Of course you do.”
You stare at him, frowning as you try to understand what his deal is, and why he’s suddenly smiling like that. It’s never happened before.
And you’ve never noticed what a charming smile he has. It reveals a dimple in his right cheek that makes him look younger than he is – not that he’s old in any way, he must be around your age, somewhere between forty and fifty. The smile makes you even more shaky, and you can’t stop staring at him. He eventually notices, the smile dies down, and he lowers his eyes.
“Well, thanks,” he mumbles, turning around and walking away briskly, leaving you to stare after him, wondering what the hell happened.
Mandy comes in from her lunch break, waves a hello, then stops when she sees you.
“Is everything okay?”
You nod dismissively. “I’m fine, Mandy. I just… almost fell from a stool. But no harm done.”
She expresses her sympathies before going to the study area. You take a deep breath, and disappear into the back room for a glass of water.
There’s tittling in the stacks, but you don’t pay it any mind: it’s part of library life, especially on a campus filled with hormonal young adults. It’s not until your hear Professor Pike’s name mentioned that you stop writing on your keyboard, and strain to hear better.
“He’s the best lecturer here.”
“And he’s so fucking hot, don’t you think?”
“Cara! He’s a million years old!”
“No, he’s not, he’s like the youngest of the faculty, except for Langley, but she’s a woman.”
“Well, I’m bi, and she’s fine too.”
Shameless giggling ensues, and you have to stifle one as well.
“Wouldn’t mind doing some extra credit for Professor Pike…”
“That’s so tacky, Mindy.”
“Come on, like you haven’t thought about it.”
The girls appear from the stacks, carrying literature over to the self service check-out.
“I just think that his lectures are amazing. He can explain literally anything so that I get it. And he knows so much.”
You stare at your screen, but you’re listening to the students.
“He should lecture more, why doesn’t he have any classes?”
“Dug, because he’s a professor, he has other things to do.”
“I’d give him something to do…”
More giggling.
“I’m serious! I ended upw atching that Youtube lecture twice just because he’s so good!”
The girls borrow their books while talking, then nod good-bye to you as they leave. You nod back, then hit up Youtube, and type in Professor Marcus Pike.
You find a video of him giving a lecture on the history of art, and open it. And your jaw drops.
The man in the video is confident without being cocky, talkative, engaging, contact-seeking. He speaks clearly, even drops a couple of jokes, and he walks around the podium in the auditorium. If it wasn’t for that corduroy jacket with the leather patches at the shoulders, the one that you had enveloped around yourself last week, you wouldn’t have recognized the man.
You close the video and chew your lower lip. You always thought Pike was this nutty professor who didn’t know how to behave around people and preferred books to socializing. But the man in the video is nothing like that. So what is his problem when talking to you?
Navigating to Facebook, you search his name, finding him easily enough. He doesn’t seem to be very active, but his professional profile is listed.
His status is set to “single”, which surprises you, but you think no further of it. You click on to photos, finding only a few, most of them outdated.
“Good afternoon.”
You look up, startled at the familiar voice. Seeing Marcus Pike’s face, you close the browser window quickly.
“Sorry,” he quickly apologizes. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”
“No worries, I was just… working.”
He clears his throat. “I’d like to return this.”
You accept the book from him, recognizing it as one of his previous ILL’s.
“Thank you.”
A couple of students come in, saying hello to both of you before disappearing into the stacks, phones in hand, library catalog probably open in their mobile browsers. Marcus looks after them, moving his weight from one foot to the other. You put the book to the side.
“Anything else I can do for you, Professor?”
He almost jumps at the sound of your voice.
“Um, no, thank you, I have to get back to work, grad student coming to see me, um, thanks, I’ll let your know if I need anything.”
He leaves the library, and you’re almost laughing. What the hell was that?
As soon as the students have found and borrowed their books, and you’re alone in the library with Mandy, she gets up and comes over to the desk. You smile your mild customer service smile at her, but she returns it with a wry grin.
“You know that he likes you right?”
You blink, not understanding. “Excuse me?”
“Professor Pike. He likes you.”
You shake your head to show her that you have no idea what she’s talking about, and she laughs.
“Oh, come on! The way he stutters and stumbles when he’s here. And he talks about you all the time, every chance he gets.”
“He what?” Your voice goes up, and you clamp your mouth shut. Mandy nods.
“He always tells us to use the library, and ask you for help. The librarian there is really competent, we’re lucky to have such a professional at our service, that sort of thing.”
“Why do you think that means he likes me?” you ask, cheeks heating up. This is stupid, this girl is half your age, and you’re talking like both of you are in middle school.
“Because he’s super confident in class, in meetings, whenever he talks to anyone, except you.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“Hello!” Mandy rolls her eyes. “Earth to librarian lady! He’s like a flustered cinnamon bun whenever he’s around you – “
“Cinnamon bun?” you interrupt her, incredulously.
“Cutie patootie in old folk speech,” Mandy smirks at you, and you scoff.
“I know what a cinnamon bun is.”
“Whatever. He comes here constantly, doesn’t he? I sit here most days, and no other faculty member visits as much. He’s here practically every day, asking you the simplest questions. He’s into you.”
“I… don’t know what you’re talking about, Mandy,” you mumble, hands fidgeting in your lap.
“Alright, if you say so,” she smirks. “But I know what I’d do if I were you.”
Later, when she leaves the library, wishing you a good weekend, you open up the browser window again, Pike smiling charmingly at you from his profile picture. You look at it for a long time before logging out, and getting up to reshelf returns.
Friday afternoon in the library makes for slow hours. It’s usually empty – even Mandy has left – and while it gives you the opportunity to prepare for next week, there are Fridays when you’d rather just close up, if you could, and go home early.
A quarter to four, when you’re impatiently tapping your foot for closing time, Marcus Pike shows up again. Mandy’s words echo in your head, making you nervous for the first time, but you manage to suppress that, instead turning on your professional persona.
“Back so soon?” you ask him lightly
“Yeah, I need a book.” He seems to understand himself how stupid that sounded.
“You’ve come to the right place.”
He tells you the title, and you look it up.
“It’s in, call number N5198-5299,” you inform him, then looking up at his hesitant expression. “It’s in the corner over there.”
“Um, could you show me? I’m not good at this.”
“Okay.” You get up and walk around the desk. “But it’s a class that you use a lot, Professor, you should be accustomed to it by now.”
“Marcus.”
“What’s that?”
“Call me Marcus. I don’t much like titles anyway.”
“Uh-huh.”
You take him to the right stacks, walking in between the heavy cases. It’s a tight squeeze, this one, and the book is located further in. You pick it out, and turn around, only to find Marcus standing right behind you.
You’ve been in this situation before, many times even. Worst times were when you worked in the city library, and creeps would crowd you between the stacks, not trying anything but coming closer than necessary.
Your heart misses a beat, but you’re not uncomfortable. Instead, you smell something familiar and comforting, something besides old paper, leather covers, and ink. It takes you a moment to realize that it’s Marcus’s cologne, the corduroy, his shampoo: earthy but fresh, a little like the forest after rain, but with an undertone of old leather armchair.
You wet your lips, and hold up the book he asked for.
“Your book.”
“Thank you.” He doesn’t take it, so you lower your hand. He clears his throat, but this time, he doesn’t look away, but straight into your eyes.
“I was wondering…”
“Yeah?” you breathe.
“There’s this classic movie festival this weekend, and I was wondering…”
“If I wanted to go with you?” you finish his sentence for him, as he takes too long for you to wait. He blinks, then smiles that sweet smile again.
“Exactly. Yes. Would you?”
“I’d like that.”
“Really?” The smile seems to broaden even more.
“Sure. Tomorrow?”
“Perfect. I can pick you up, if you want to. At six?”
“Perfect,” you echo, now smiling widely yourself. He exhales, like he’s been holding his breath this entirely time.
“Perfect.”
The desk phone rings, startling both of you. The book falls from your hand, and you look down at it, then up at Marcus.
“I need to get that.”
“Of course,” he nods. You make a little movement with your head.
“I need to get past you, Marcus?”
“Oh, yes, of course, sorry.”
He backs out from between the cases, letting you out as well. His cologne seems to rub off on your arm when you brush past him, hurrying to the desk. You answer the phone and try to focus on the person calling, take a couple of notes, and end the call just as Marcus comes walking to the desk, book in hand. You check it out for him, give him your number, and he smiles again as he thanks you. You follow him to the door so that you can close up after him.
“I’ll call,” he promises as he steps out. You nod, hand on the door handle.
“Looking forward to it.”
He raises the book as a farewell, then starts walking down the corridor. You’re about to close the door when you suddenly step out, calling his name.
“Marcus!”
He turns around immediately, and now that he’s standing with his back straight, instead of hunched over, you notice how tall and broad-shouldered he is.
“Yes?”
“For the record… you’re into me, right?”
He chuckles, his ears turning pink. “Yeah, I’m into you.”
“Just checking,” you grin. “See you tomorrow.”
#dimple mention is great#marcus pike#marcus pike x reader#fic#oneshot#you need only ask#<- I’ll edit that if there are more parts lol#criticallyacclaimedstranger
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✍️ more fic writer asks!
reblog & your followers can send asks with the questions they’d like you to answer!
the last sentence you wrote
a character whose POV you’re currently exploring
how you feel about your current WIP
a story idea you haven’t written yet
first sentence of the fifth paragraph of an unpublished WIP
the word that appears the most in your current draft (wordcounter.net can tell you)
your preferred writing fonts
if you had to write a sequel to a fic, you’d write one for…
start to finish, how long did it take you to write the last fic you posted?
what is the longest amount of time you’ve let a draft rest before you finished it?
a WIP you’d like to finish someday
a trope you’re really into right now
a fandom you’re thinking about writing for
where do you get your inspiration?
favorite weather for writing
favorite place to write
talk about your writing and editing process
if you keep them, share a deleted sentence or paragraph from a published fic
the most interesting topic you’ve researched for a fic
in what year did you publish your first fic?
when did you publish your most recent fic?
do you ever worry about public reaction to what you’re writing? how do you get past that?
pick three keywords that describe your writing
how do you recharge when you’re not feeling creative?
besides writing, what are your other hobbies?
are you able to write with other people around?
your favorite part of the writing process
your least favorite part of the writing process
how easy is it for you to come up with titles?
share a fic you’re especially proud of
#please reblog to your own followers!!#you don't need to send me any (I just like making them)#I meant to do this yesterday but was too sleepy#fic writer asks#ask game#I have 100% asked these on discord or twitter at some point#but there are only so many Thoughts in my poor head
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HOT, SINGLE, UNSTUDIED SPONGES. 3000 NAUTICAL MILES AWAY. Come sail the distance and read Tiger Tiger!
#tiger tiger#ludovica bonnaire#remy bonnaire#jamis arlesi#This comic has been on my radar for *years* and I only recently - finally - sat down to read it. And by god is it amazing.#I don't want to spoil anything! But if you like amazing art and character writing *and* high seas adventure? READ TIGER TIGER.#If you asked my who my favourite character is I could not tell you. I truly like them all!!!#I even like the sleezeball who has less charm than a dead rat. He's *my* darling little rat man. With every disease.#A special shout out to my lad (he is the lad of all time) Jamis Arlesi.#Who - upon walking into frame makes me go 'Sir! Is your bosom too heavy? Do you need a new bra? My hands are free on Thursdays!'#And Ludo! My lass! I love her dearly! Every page made me more fond of her.#Book smart and uses it in very good ways! Naive enough to think it is all she needs! Learns a lot and stays kind through the horrors!#I could go on and on but...you...the person reading this...you *are* going to read it - aren't you?#So I'd hate to spoil you any more! Go read Tiger Tiger! Do it! For the sea sponges!#Rumour has it they are also freshly divorced. It was messy. Sea sponge needs a distraction. That could be you. Distracting that sponge.#You wont know until you click that link and start reading!
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First art of the new year is all about re-structuring your internal monologue.
In my early 20s I was working full time in London with many social commitments and a variety of hustles and side projects.
In my later mid 20s I cater to many sensory and social drain needs I have and indulge in special interests while respecting my lower energy reserves and celebrating my different way of processing the world.
Did I get more autistic? Nah. I got less fake.
-
[Art description: Three panels showing figures on a black background. Long descriptions follow.
1. A drawing of OP as a person with hip-length hair and a dress standing sadly with her hands clapsed together in front of her. She is coloured a muted rainbow gradient. Behind her, two pairs of nondescript figures chat while smiling. White text says, ‘I’m getting more and more autistic the older I get.’ 2. OP’s colours are brighter, and her expression looks happier. Crayon-like scribbles have crossed out the text from the previous panel. 3. OP’s colours are vibrant, and she balances on one leg and throws her arms out as she dances. The text above has changed to say, ‘I’m becoming more and more myself the older I get.’ \End descriptions]
#urchin art#autism#autistic#neurodivergent#neurodiversity#actually autistic#autistic things#autistic adult#autistic artist#autistic community#listen- the process of unmasking every fiber of your fabricated being is difficult#figuring out who you are behind the mask is scary#but continuing to act in a play where only you got no script is officially cringe#(this is me waxing poetic I am very aware of the safety needs of masking but that's not the point)#the point is ask yourself#are you getting MORE xyz?#Or are you becoming MORE of you?
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no but imagine percy who inherited his mom's beachwave brown, shoulder length hair as a kid. and all of his classmates and teachers thinking he's a girl and referring to him as such. and he doesn't correct them because he thinks it means they find him pretty. and he likes feeling pretty like his mom. then gabe makes him cut his hair in the second grade. and finds he likes the short hair and feeling handsome too. but he also really misses feeling pretty sometimes. and it isn't until after gabe mysteriously dissapears that he grows it out again and reconciles switching between both.
#it was something percy only did with sally#then percy confided in annabeth that following summer during their boat ride to save grover#amd she reassures percy that they're still a 'seaweed brain' no matter what (and to “let me know if anyone gives you any problems😤')#grover gave percy a whole speech on why their still besties and percy almost cried#and tyson said that he has a brother and a sister but only sometimes (percy cried to sally about it on IM a couple of nights later)#percy jackon and the olympians#pjo text post#pjo#pjo headcanon#percy jackson#annabeth chase#grover underwood#tyson#genderfluid!percy jackson#annabeth is a fierce defender and will clock the bullies with no hesistation#grover consistently validates percy through their empathy link when needed#tyson always makes sure to ask if he has a sister or brother during their visits#sally and percy shop in the girls section tegether
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pick your battles
#my art#my stuff#art#comic#original art#pride 2024#pride month#trans allegory..... or not even allegory. just trans .... ^_^#i technically cannot come out yet but i don't think the people who i need to not see this stalk my tumblr#i know they stalk everything else like my twitter and my instagram but this might be safe#so fuck it we yap. this is a comic about picking your battles#this is a comic about how for almost a year now everyone at home in singapore has been crying about my sore throat#my terrible fucked up voice. my you know. etc#i came out as not cis and using they/them pronouns in 2015 when i was 14#but no one ever used my pronouns. none of my classmates or friends even up until i left for college in 2020#from 2020 onwards every year i wrote an angry vulnreable essay about how much it hurts that they dont remember#and people would dm me apologizing on their hands and knees and commending my bravery#and then forget about it all over again. id ont mean 'they misgender me and then catch it and apologize and correct themselves'#i mean they dont even get that far#and so you might ask yourself: why have you kept them around all this time?#and i would have to explain that by pure bad luck i grew up in the most conservative close minded community#that all of my ex classmates that stayed in singapore are cishet and upper middle class and chinese singaporean#that i Am the trans person. that they were able to ignore me for a decade partially because there was no one else#so this is a comic about how there is dignity and grace in staying in the closet sometimes#about how not everyone deserves to see you at your happiest. about how some people can go fuck themselves#you know your truth and THATS THE ONLY THING THAT MATTERS!!! YEAH!!! i love you
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"I don't know who I want to be, anymore."
Oc - Cirque | The Dragon Chosen by the Shadows |
| mary oliver / franz wright / chelsea dingman / mary oliver / sue zhao / can't find :( / can't find :( / i am a dog. i have blood all over my teeth. - sciencedfiction / little weirds - jenny slate / the unabridged journals of sylvia |
#RAHHH guys I'm so crazy about her you all should totally ask me about her lore#web weave#webweave#webweaving#web weaving#oc webweave#oc web weave#oc - Cirque#definitely NOT the only webweave ill be making for her#still getting the hang of making these... gonna try to make some more for specific times in her life rather than just jumping around#on love#on longing#on grief#guys i love her shes so fun to squish#making these oc webweaves is so fun because i get to talk about them. also it helps me flesh out their characters#i need a tag for this specific universe of ocs lol#writing a book about them so i guess when i draft up some titles for that book ill use that for them#my webs#alt text
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The Garrinis art I commissioned 🖤 thank you so much @ketto-art
Based on chapter 4 of You need only ask. If you like fluffy rare pairs please do give it a go 😌
#this cheered me up a tiny amount#can i have a love as pure as them?#garrinis#ominis gaunt#garreth weasley#ominis gaunt x garreth weasley#garreth weasley x ominis gaunt#you need only ask
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If I had to think of Fellow helping Vovó Bucchi with the sewing and Gidel helping her cook (aka cutting veggies and stirring the pot) you do to
HAH! Jokes on you anon! I also like to think about the little routine they would have!
Whether it's Gidel help with the dinner and some chores.... Fellow sewing old clothes or fixing something around the house, and even helping some neighbors! Or them doing the shopping and committing some crimes along the way, you know, common things for a simple little family~ 🤭
#twst#twisted wonderland#ask#!kah sketchs#!kah art#vovó Bucchi would teach them how to steal like a real Bucchi 😌#found family oh my beloved#THEY'RE A FAMILY YOUR HONOR#i did this instead of sleeping#Can you imagine that before vovó Bucchi would be alone in the house#only sometimes having visits from neighbors and local children#just waiting for Ruggie to come back? But now with these two#she doesn't need to be alone anymore?#AND NOW RUGGIE DOESN'T NEED TO WORRY SO MUCH?? NOW THAT HE KNOWS THAT THERE ARE OTHER PEOPLE TAKING CARE OF HER?#ok excuse im gonna cry now#vovó bucchi#grandma bucchi#twst fellow honest#twst gidel#ernesto foulworth#twst gino#I know the heights are all wrong BUT I WAS IN A HURRY SORRY
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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.
#spilled ink#writeblr#personal#please don't ask me to talk on my experience on the spectrum lol. i hate how ppl talk to me about it#i really try not to write so specifically about it#bc inevitably someone talks to me like im a child#i think this is the first time i've ever openly identified with it but i've been hinting for years#i might delete this. feels big.#the thing is that being on the spectrum actually IS a spectrum#and if u say ur autistic#inevitably someone makes an assumption about ur needs/symptoms#please do not treat me differently than u usually would. like.... we can tell when you do#and like i mention. i do appreciate the effort. i do truly appreciate the effort.#but it still feels like...#when i was blind. sometimes people kind of did the same-ish thing.#they'd find out i was blind and start talking really loudly?#and while i KNOW they're just trying to help. it would be like. i'd be trying to find#the right way into a building (sometimes only 1 door is unlocked and i couldn't see the signs posted about where to go)#and ppl would be like ''OH UR BLIND? YES SO THIS IS A DOOR. IT OPENS INTO THE BUILDING. IT IS LOCKED NOW."#''A DOOR CAN BE FOUND IN MANY LOCATIONS.''#and it feels like. when i admit to being autistic#someone comes screeching into my life being like THIS IS A DOOR.
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Did Peri tell Timmy that he was planning to become a Fairy Godparent/that he was assigned a godkid? When we first see the fam reunite in the series, Cosmo and Wanda didn't seem to know.
Timmy had known Peri might pursue becoming a godparent, because Peri had consulted with him about career tracks!! And like. Being the only one invited to Peri's college graduation tends to give Timmy more insight than his parents. Special older brother privileges.
As for being assigned a Godkid, Timmy sorta... Stumbled into it. He found out long before Peri was told he had been given an assignment!
Bitties Series: [Start] > [Previous] > [Next]
Peri's Assignment: [Next]
#fairly oddparents#fop#fop a new wish#fop timmy turner#fop jorgen vonstrangle#fop timmy#fop jorgen#asks#itty bitties fop au#YAY YIPPIE WE'RE REACHING THE LIL MINI PLOT FOR PERI AND DEV#this one is VERY short. like 4 parts total. i already have the asks for it#straight and to the point.#ALSO#timelines are a bit confusing bcs the posts are sporadic across the timelines#so i might need to make a post to clarify it a bit#but peri like. went to babys spellementary. then boarding school. and then college where you specialize in trade/jobs#cosmo and wanda have NOOO idea peri went to college#absolutely none#(in this world fairy college is free btw <33)#so peri only invited timmy to his graduation ceremony#ALSO SINCE IM ALREADY RAMBLING IN THE TAGS#jorgen's door has a SMALLER door meant for pixies!!!!#because he is humongous and they are so tiny.#and also timmy's ears wiggle and flap when hes excited#i like to imagine pixie ears as a bit like cow ears hahaha#bcs i love cow ears i think theyre very soft and they should flap#ears should be expressive me thinks
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Normal boy spotted.
[First] Prev <–-> Next
#poorly drawn mdzs#mdzs#wei wuxian#wen wing#wen remnants#Wen ning#This scene felt like a bit of a fever dream. We have (with little to no comedic exaggeration):#1) WWX whistling and somehow summoning not one but several horses to his side.#2) meeting the surviving Wen sect members who insist on not leaving Wen Ning behind.#Only for it to cut back to Wen Ning ripping a guy in half. (Not pictured here. I tried so hard but I could not make it look good).#Personally I feel like we moved on way too fast from the horse thing. Where did they come from? WWX couldn't have brought them.#He *just* found out there were more people left behind.#So...are the from the Jing sect? Are these disloyal horses? Or does WWX have incredible animal charisma skills?#It feels a bit like a DND player asked to call in some horses and the DM said 'Sure if you roll well enough' and it was a natural 20.#Maybe this is just my own envy cutting through. God damn I wish I could whistle and summon a horse to my side whenever I needed to.#I know I should not be so hung up on the horses. But my brain is cooked. I have been so sick.#The kind of sickness that makes it hard to breathe. Or think. Or have any energy at all.#I wish I had good commentary to write here. I just...really want a nap. And for October to restart to make up for all the lost time.#Thank you all for being so kind and patient once again. It truly means a lot.
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ok but for real now. since tiktok has so throughly disappointed on this trend. who is your strangest hear me out / most bizarre crush? freaks and headscratchers only edition
#please 👁👁 I am so fascinated by this.#also I need to know I'm not the only one with double-take worthy and more-than-a-little-embarrassing taste#hear me out#ask meme#polls#memes#original#blorbos#blorboposting#fictional crush#(they dont have to be characters or even people. skys the limit and not even really because space and aliens and stuff)#monster lover#tag meme#(I've posted about some of mine here before but none of you in a million billion years would guess who the newest one is. its not even that#creative or out there just. head in my hands how did I get here kinda situation)
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