granny-griffin

[granny-griffin]

I need to get off the medias before I'm so tired that I fall for those crappy ai images

[granny-griffin]

Unity

#bnha #bnha manga #bnha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers

[granny-griffin]

#bnha #bnha spoilers #bnha manga #bnha manga spoilers #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #bk&dk #my fanworks #salt and light

[granny-griffin]

Alors il y a une histoire sous ce fanart :

Il y a bien longtemps, lors de la première apparition de hawks dans les scans de mha , j'avais fait un fanart . Sauf que , comme on ne connaissait pas ses couleurs, j'avais donc inventé les couleurs .

J'ai retrouvé ce dessin et je l'ai refait ci dessus comme vous pouvez le voir , j'en suis plutôt heureux car je trouve que les couleurs vont bien.

Et comme ont ais dans le thème voilà des petit fanart de mha

#bnha

[granny-griffin]

n'oublie pas le trois octobre

#fma

[granny-griffin]

if they don't affirm the Nicene Creed, they are not Christians. if they claim to be Christians but they don't affirm the Nicene Creed, they are 9 times out of 10 a cult.

#true #cw christ

[granny-griffin]

First draft for Hiro's introduction scene in comic form! The final version will be quite different of course, but I'm thinking I'll keep the general concept.

Hiro and his team work as special agents that investigate and control any hints of rebellion among their fellow officers. Having both intensive training and more powerful superpowers than the average agent, they are certainly a force to be reckoned with. In this scene they're investigating a confidential tip-off of a rouge team of officers. Hiro's superpower is telekinesis.

The rest is under the cut

this was a challenge to post because I forgot to make it internet friendly for posting while I was drawing it lol! Here's what they look like uncropped for fun XD

[granny-griffin]

Survey About Support Needs Labels

Hi all! I have autism with level 2 social-communication difficulties and level 3 restricted repetitive behaviors. I mostly post in Reddit MSN/HSN autism communities, but I was recently made aware of this community.

I like surveys a lot, and the Reddit communities that I'm in have recently had several surveys that touched on support needs labels. It got me thinking about what people mean when they say they have "low support needs" or "moderate support needs." For example, what kind of daily life support needs do people have? How is it affected by their autism symptoms? What about their overall support needs, taking into account co-occurring health conditions?

I created a survey to see what other people think! I'll share the results when I have them. I'm curious if Tumblr and Reddit autism communities tend to agree on support needs labels or if the different communities have different ideas of what the labels mean. I'm also really curious if people who are undiagnosed, those with level 1 diagnoses, and those with level 2 or 3 diagnoses (or those from countries that don't use the level system but have LSN compared to MSN/HSN) all respond differently. I'd really appreciate if people could take the survey and especially if you could also show it to people that you know!

If you already took the survey on Reddit, you don't need to retake it here (it's a different link but the same questions), but I'd still appreciate you reblogging it!

Thank you!

[granny-griffin]

enough about taylor swift already. reblog and tag the smallest, least known artist you listen to

#ballydowse #starry sky

[granny-griffin]

On the topic of post-Promised Day Al thoughts:

It takes him a long time to get out of the habit of ducking/walking sideways through doorways

Getting used to feeling pain again must of course have been rough (I have to imagine building up his pain tolerance again must’ve been excruciating), but personally I headcanon that the experience of coming to terms with the fact that stubbing his toes actually hurt again was a nightmare. Almost nothing makes him angrier. Winry will hear a thud followed furious, inarticulate, banshee-like yelling from the other room and assume it must be Ed, only to find a red-faced Al hopping around on one foot having stubbed his toe on a chair leg

Al got so used to being able to drag and/or pick up Ed and remove him from any given situation where he was being difficult that it became a habit he was completely unable to break, and what’s more hilarious is that even though he’s no longer a suit of armor twice Ed’s size, and in the time he was recovering they’ve grown to be about the same height, he can still do it. They’ll be visiting the capital and Ed will be getting a little too riled-up at Mustang (now the Fuhrer himself) and Al will just sigh, shoot Hawkeye an exasperated look, and then throw his entire adult brother over his shoulder mid-sentence, deposit him (shrieking, of course) in another room, and return with a polite smile and a “sorry, you were saying?”

#fma

[granny-griffin]

Ooooh!! Happy Birthday! I hope you have a nice day!!

thank you!! I did!!

[granny-griffin]

Mail

Change a single letter and change the word game

I want to play a game with you all.

You have to make a new word by changing only one letter of the last word.

Dirt

[granny-griffin]

Happy birthday my friend!!! I hope this next year is full of more joy than you can hold and many wonderful adventures that add to the story God is telling with your life. 💜🫂

ily friend!!!

ily too!!!!

[granny-griffin]

i think we should remind musicians they can absolutely make up little stories for their songs btw. it doesn’t have to be about them at all. you can invent a guy and put him in situations to music. time honoured tradition in fact.

[granny-griffin]

happy birthday friend! thank you for being so awesome and amazing to be around and talk to. thanks for including me in your interests and sending me stuff in dms and always sharing your life with me. thanks for being such a joyful person and spreading that everywhere you go, leaving little bits of love behind. you are so cool you send other people asks with malicious (affectionate) intent. you really are so hip and so cool, role model material my parents totally should let us hang out lets eat ice cream and talk about anime all night

hdksdh an impossible to answer ask of my own!! thank u friend you’re so kind and also ily

[granny-griffin]

What's everyone's favourite flowers that aren't like. The normal ones. Like everyone's a fan of roses and sunflowers what's a more niche one. One you don't get in gift sets. Mine's sweet peas

#wild violets #theyre blooming right now!!

[granny-griffin]

Terrarium Lights, Pt. 3.9

Previously on Terrarium Lights: the ghost begins a new existential crisis in the kitchen, pre-dawn.

The smell of buttered bread filled the kitchen. "So, is this about your friend, Samuel?" Gail asked. "Yes. And no. I… I feel bad, somehow, that I am still here and he's… not. Like, he’s a ghost, but… I might have a chance. And he…. He does not."

"Can you be sure of that?"

"Yes. It's.… Once you see it, you know."

"Hmmmm." Gail unhooked the spatula from under the cupboard, and flipped the bread.

"It's… more…. Well, he looks… different. Not like a person anymore."

"Ah." Gail wasn't quite sure what he meant by that. Maybe the state of the ghost reflected the state of the body.

"But… I'm still not quite back, and… going back… I'm not sure if I can. Or maybe I can, but it… it's… I don't know." Jonathon rubbed a hand along his arm, as if he were cold.

"You're not sure if you can properly get back into your body?" Gail interpreted.

"I have no idea one way or the other," Jonathon replied with a small laugh.

"Do you want to try it?"

Butter fizzled around bread and filled the silence of their shared space.

Gail flipped the bread again, making sure that both sides were properly browned. The second side wasn't quite finished, so she let it fall back into place.

"Honestly…" Jonathon faltered. "I don't actually know that I understand enough of my own mind to be honest. I… I want to be alive again. To have time not be so disorienting. To be able to smell the food that I know you're cooking, and taste the bread you've baked. To be able to feel moss under my fingers and have it be a solid sensation and not just three-quarters my imagination. But… I… I don't know."

"Is it because of the medical report?" Gail asked. She watched him out of the corner of her eye as she slid her spatula under the slice of toast and set it on a plate.

"I… I guess so." His head hung low on his chest. "It was hard to not be able to remember things, you know? And the doctor was theorizing that I wouldn’t remember anything when I woke up. Maybe that’s just since I got back, or maybe that includes this time, here, that I had coming back to who I was. And I don't want to lose what I've already got. And, then, besides the memories…."

Gail lowered the bacon into the pan, slice by slice. "Your sight."

"It's… it's getting worse."

The pan accepted the new offering readily, throwing spatters and sizzles of oil and new smells as the bacon settled into place.

"I had already noticed that sometimes my sight got worse, but… I thought that was purely tied to my emotional state at the time, or something along those lines. Like what we'd observed in our notes. It's been a relief this past week to have more moments when I can see properly, well enough to read from a book, or see the distance be more than just shapes and colors. But these last couple of days, since I went back to the lighthouse… those moments are becoming fewer."

Gail settled against the counter, picking up the slice of toast, juggling it a bit between her fingertips. "So, that would make sense why you hadn't done much with the books on the dinner table."

"Partially," he said. "My sight was more consistent then. Most of it was simply that I wasn’t in the mood. But… I do quite like reading. And it’s so useful. It… it's a scary thought that I might not be able to do that anymore.”

“But you're already losing your sight as a ghost," Gail pointed out with her toast, before taking a bite of it.

"Yes, but… I still have it. And… going back to my body would feel like… accepting it. Being okay with it. But I'm not okay with it."

The smell of bacon, warm, rich, salty, overtook that of the toast. Gail checked it, decided to leave them for a bit longer. She wanted to say something, to soothe the lad's fears and troubles, tell him that it would be alright and he didn't need to worry. He would get used to it, and in the end he would be okay. Lots of people have disabilities and work around them, right?

But that wouldn't help. A quick and easy answer wouldn't help a long and painful question, as she knew from losing David. If someone had told her at the funeral she would be fine with it one day, and that therefore she should be fine with it then, Michael likely would have had to stop her slapping someone. Time moved on, she knew that, but present hurts were rarely helped by rushing into a future that did not yet exist.

And she hadn't chosen to lose David. True, Jonathon wasn't choosing to lose his sight or his memories, but he was still caught on the idea of accepting it—an equally difficult trial.

"What about Mrs. Seward?" She found herself asking.

Jonathon winced. "I don't know. I… I don't want her to be sad about me, but… she's going to be sad anyway, because of her actual son. I also really don't want to have to tell her about that. But… I also might not be able to, since I may not remember. That is a whole issue in and of itself—how to tell her or how not to tell her, or if I have the right to make choices about it. But there’s also, well… I… I hate to say it, but… I don't remember her very well. I know I knew her. But when I'm not there and seeing her or hearing her… it's easy to be more selfish, and forget that I did know her."

"Does part of you, maybe, resent that you feel like you need to think about anyone else, when this is a matter that so deeply affects you?" Gail asked.

Jonathon was silent for a long moment, one of his hands picking at the hem of his vest, the other curled tightly around himself. "Yes.