Shoutout To That One Time I Got Half Lost On The Beach And Things Were Half Cryptic Half Aesthetically

Nah i wont question it but i will definitely fluster you

Fuck it we ball

Tummy Tuesday

If anyone says anything weird you will be blocked ❤️ (teasing is alright i dont mind it)

why is that shirt huge on me jeez

WHY IS THIS ME

The way most autism literature describes "literal interpretation" is often not at all similar to how I experience it. Teenage me even thought I couldn't be autistic because I've always been able to learn metaphors easily.

In fact, I love wordplay of all kinds. Teenage me was fascinated to learn all the types of figurative language there are in poetry and literature.

But paperwork and questionnaires are hard, because there's so much they don't state clearly. Or they don't leave room for enough nuance.

"List all the jobs you've had, with start and end dates." What if I don't remember the exact day or month? Is the year enough?

"Have you been suffering from blurred vision?" Well, if I take off my glasses the whole world is blurred, but I'm fairly sure that's not what the intake form at the optometrist is asking.

Or the infamous (and infuriatingly stereotypical) "Would you rather go to a library or a party?" What sort of party? Where? Who's there? I work at a library. Am I currently at the library for work or pleasure? Does it have a good collection?

It's not common figures of speech that confound me. It's ambiguity, in situations that aren't supposed to be ambiguous.

This show has my brain acting feral rn i cant ;-;

yeontan.sanai

I Understand now holy fuck

Fuck all I can think about is hands crawling under my hoodie from behind.

Don't you want to creep your fingers up my sides to my shoulder blades? Trace your name down my spine and do some fake outs under my arms? Goose my sides until I'm a squirmy giggly mess in my chair?

I'll even ask nicely if you promise not to stop until I'm thoroughly melted, just for you

You made darkness go from feeling like pitch black void to feeling like a blanket of indigo twilight

I love you

I’ll never forget that

Not as long as i live, not even after that, not until existence itself dies out, and even then the last star will fizzle out and whisper of the pure love i have for you

The love of someone saved by one who didn’t realize it, the love of someone who comes back to life out of the care of one who thinks themselves insignificant, the love of someone who wants to give the one they love everything and get only what that one wants to give. You could give me a bowl of burnt tomatoes and id eat it if i thought it would make you smile. And i hate tomatoes so much. But for you i would eat them.

And i know youd never ask me to do anything you thought was inconvenient or would make me uncomfortable but love i would walk through fire and snakes for you if i had to. Maybe not spiders but i would at least consider it very very hard before saying no unless you were in danger. Almost anyone else would be an immediate sorry bud but youre out of luck. I love you enough it would destroy me if you used it against me. But you never would, youd never be able to, and i love you so much i would never make you no matter what. And i will never destroy you. I may not know what to say or how to feel or how to help but i will never stop trying to support you. I will never stop trying to get you to fall in love with yourself the way falling i love with you made me fall in love with myself. But most of all i will never control you. I will never force you to do anything you really dont want to do except for trivial health things. The only way i will ever try to change you is to make you happier, hungrier, or more at peace with yourself. I will never stop trying to let you relax enough to realize just how much i love you

I love you

With everything i am

And with everything i ever will be

And i will never stop trying to show you that

Through kisses and hugs and late night laughs and tickles and soft looks and soul aching rambles and little gifts and tiny actions, i will never stop telling you i love you through words and through every detail and act i can think of

AHHHHHHSHJDJWJJWJKKSOJWICBQKDLSJDQKHJSCNKSNCKSKDNCKDNFKWKSMD WTF WHY IS THIS SO GOOD HOLY SHIT I WAS GOING DOWN THE EMYRS TAG RABBIT HOLE AND CAME ACROSS THIS AND HOLY FUCK ANDOZMISBCJAJKD

of the old religion

there are consequences to being a creature of magic, of the old religion, of power and energy given form.

merlin is not human, no matter what he thinks. the body he has is just a second skin, a coat over the tumultuous magic beneath, so that it had shape, form. he looks human, he thinks human, he feels human. but he is not truly human.

it’s why shapeshifting spells work so well upon him. he’s not changing himself, just the look of the skin he’s wearing. the magic beneath has no true form, and thus cannot be changed when it is everything everywhere all at once.

(the magic that makes merlin is the magic that makes the world, so it has no shape and to look upon it with mortal eyes would be a headache inducing, nauseating ever-shifting thing, that moves through different features of different magical beings like the water of a lake rippling.)

OR

someone with a deep connection to the old religion can see that emrys is no true human. just a creature of magic wearing a human skin, a shapeshifter that refuses to show its true form. (because people say emrys is magic, but no one truly understands the roiling thing living and breathing inside his skin. so obviously there has to be a true form of emrys underneath the image of merlin.)

so they decide to rip that human skin off. force the shape beneath to show itself. tear away the visage of merlin to leave behind only emrys, the creature that will bring magic back to the land or so help them.

it takes a lot of energy and power, and the use of ancient artifacts of the old religion that have been slowly gathering magic for centuries. but they manage it, they bind the human skin to an object, and tear the object away, to leave behind only emrys.

…

except emrys is not made for mortal eyes. especially not the eyes of someone who had hurt them and tore away their shape, their form. (because emrys, as a creature of magic, is still heartbreakingly young. a child, really. maybe that’s why merlin is still so wide-eyed all the time. still young at heart, even as his body looks older.)

so they look upon emrys and burn.

and emrys, lost and confused and hurt and not understanding— where is their body why do they hurt what is wrong with them they are constantly changing shapes and cannot control it and theyre so scared— flees to the only thing they know for sure. and behind them, amongst the mess of ash and scorched earth that once was alive, the object holding their skin lies abandoned, forgotten.

OR

arthur finds the embodiment of magic huddled up against his bedroom window. he doesn’t recognize it immediately as such, but it glows golden and cannot seem to stop subtlety changing shape and growing features that were not there before while losing others. and really, he picks up on the fact eventually.

to reiterate, arthur pendragon, son of the magic-hating king, a young man who had not yet decided if he would hate it the same, has the embodiment of magic hiding outside his window.

he shouldn’t open it. shouldn’t let the pathetic, forcing-itself-to-be-small thing inside.

it howls and cries without words, a sad and fearful air pressing down on him, begging begging helphelphelphelpsomethingswrongsomethingswrongtheytookawaymybodyarthurarthurarthurhelphelphelphelphe—

arthur opens the window.

as the magic flies in, it takes a more solid, in the loosest form of the word, form, dragon-like and small. young. it hides in the crook of his neck, tucks its head in close and shivers.

arthur feels almost like he has let in a frightened bird, it is so small and fluttery.

merlin’s gone missing and there is something small and magical and highly illegal hiding against the small hollow between his neck and shoulders.

he leaves it there.

OR

arthur holds a power he does not quite understand in his hands. he knows it is greater than its form, can feel the pressing weight of something that belies the tiny body.

he knows it is magic. perhaps that is all he really needs to know.

and then he does something that feels exceedingly foolish.

“i’m looking for merlin, my… manservant,” he begins, and the golden thing ripples like a lake in the wind, “can you find where he was taken?”

at least seven eyes blink into existence upon the roiling magical creature, all of them looking up at arthur. another blink, and then they vanish. in their place, wings sprout, some of them draconian in shape, others more bird-like and feathery.

a tail, tiny and yet impossibly strong, wraps around his wrist, and the thing takes flight, pulling him along.

the knights startle, when arthur appears, being seemingly dragged behind a creature no bigger than a songbird, and so breathtakingly magical in spite of it.

“well?” arthur asks, acerbic. “prepare your steeds. we’ve finally gotten a lead on merlin.”

OR

they find a wasteland.

there is nothing left alive in a large circle, all of it surrounding an ancient building now nothing but rubble. the life is not burned away, or diseased into nothing, or anything that could be argued as natural.

instead, it is a wasteland that magic had abandoned. that intrinsic thing within all things, alive and not, had fled this place, ushered out by a fearful and terrified little godling ripped away from the only skin-home it had ever known.

nothing lives here and nothing will ever live here.

it is an ill omen indeed.

and then they discover the sorcerer’s bones, and the fact that said sorcerer was not in fact working alone.

“you,” the only other living being in about a mile spits out like a curse, upon sighting the king, “what have you done with them? where is the being below the skin?”

none of the knights nor the king understand. the little creature of magic had hidden itself in the folds of arthur’s cape, another golden draconian insignia among the rest.

“the what?” arthur asks.

“where is emrys?” the sorcerer spits, summoning a stream of fire heading directly for the king.

magic itself, given form, bursts from the camelot red cape, all golden edges and vengeful anger, the tiny thing no larger than an arm suddenly expanding rapidly. it forms a gigantic serpent, or something like it, lithe and long, but with the beak of a bird of prey, eyes like a feline, a unicorn’s horn on its head. it eats the fire whole, and the giant form bears down on the suddenly cowering sorcerer.

“but—but we freed you,” they mutter, afraid, “we released you from the human shell containing you. how else… how else could you bring back magic…?”

the thing cannot speak, it has no way to do so. what it can do is press feeling into your head. whatever this is, it is so powerful everyone there can feel it, and perhaps even some that are much further away.

G I V E I T B A C K.

it feels nothing like the helpless pained crying that arthur had heard from outside his window, like a yowling alley cat. this monster is nothing like the little bird-like afraid thing that had hidden in his collar, tucked against his throat. this beast of dripping fangs and deadly edges is almost completely separate from the creature of fluttery wings and wide eyes.

and yet he can hear something distinctly afraid in the wailing howl.

it is still desperate and afraid. it’s just angry enough now to cover it up.

New headcanon yoinked

Headcanon: Telemachus wears Odysseus’ clothes

I can’t stop thinking about this: I imagine Odysseus did not take notice during the songs “Odysseus” and “I can’t help but wonder” but Telemachus is 100% wearing his dads clothes in the songs in my opinion - at least the cape and stuff - to feel closer to him.

A day later, Ody finally takes a shower and goes to his closet to check out his wardrobe and finds it ransacked (like almost nothing is left that the clothes that are still present are only undergarments or oversized clothing). He asks his wife about it and she has no idea so Ody wears something a little big on him (he also definitely lost weight on his journey). During breakfast, in strolls Telemachus wearing his dads garments, belt, sword holding thing, jewelry and more, completely oblivious about the situation as both Penelope and Odysseus look at him in sudden realization. Odysseus does not speak about it as his son plops down next to him to start eating only to finally get what was going on.

He gets really embarrassed and wants to shoot up immediately to change and apologize but Ody shuts that down quickly by pushing his son back on his seat, puts his arm around his shoulder, smiles proudly and looks to his wife (who is hiding her laughing under her breath) and say that he will need a new wardrobe because a little owl kit has nicked his old one (or something like that). Telemachus, who is still embarrassed and red-faced hides his face in his dads hair, mumbling justifications but is told to relax and that it is fine and endearing and that Ody is actually happy that he could be there for his son at least in this way.

and now i’ve made myself cry by writing this out 😭

if anyone wants to write fanfiction about this, please tag me, i really want to see what people would do with this premise :’ D 🩵🩵🩵

Edit: now with official fanfiction by yours truly as well :D Can be read here 🩵🩵

They really are two sides of the same coin i cant

Arthur wears a mask of power and confidence over insecurity and neediness.

Merlin wears a mask of insecurity and neediness over power and confidence.

IS THAT WHAT IT IS????? I USED TO ALWAYS BREAK DOWN CRYING OVER RANDOM THINGS AS A KID BUT OVER TIME IT SHIFTED TO ME JUST GOING AWAY AND ZONING OUT FOR WAY TOO FUCKING LONG

I THOUGHT IT WAS JUST A WEIRD LITTLE HABIT????????

Undiagnosed audhd culture is never having meltdowns and only ever having shutdowns when youre alone in your room and wondering why youre so useless and incapable of functioning normally

.