Edited - Tumblr Posts
even at my worst ? even then ༊*·˚
m.list ◦ askbox
synopsis: timothée taking care of you while you’re ill (hcs)
when you first call to tell him that you’re ill, his first reaction is hysteria. every attempt of you to calm him down goes in vain and he completely ignores your warnings to not come over.
« i’m gonna be just fine, tim. it’s just a cold, really- » « i’m on my way. »
he quickly rushes to your flat, wanting to make sure that you’re okay himself.
« hey, how you feeling ? »
he sits on the bed beside you and places a hand on your forehead, before leaning down to press his lips on your temple to gauge your temperature.
« i thought you said it was just a cold. you’re burning up ! » « i’m fine stop fussing over me. » « you’re not ‘fine.’ »
you push him away and even though you are very thankful, you plead with him to go home. but he is not going anywhere. timothée just wants to be by your side, no matter what you tell him and how hard you try to urge him to go home, he is not leaving until you get better.
« i’m here to take care of you and i’m not leaving until you’re well again. »
he never imagined himself caring so much for someone to the point of feeling such deep pain and wishing to switch places and take the illness from you.
he turns the house up and down trying to find the thermometer and when he finally does, he tries to take your temperature multiple times. your faces fall and you both look at it sceptical until tim decides to go to the pharmacy and get a new one.
« don’t you dare get out of bed ! »
despite his limited cooking skills, timothée tries to cook for you - makes you soup and brings it to your bed. he waits for you to finish or at least eat a decent amount. you can’t help but chuckle every time you glance up and catch him staring at you while biting his nails.
« i know it’s shit but you have to eat it. sorry. » « it’s not shit. it’s good. » « oh. wow. okay then. i’m glad it’s good. »
timothée still falls beside you and holds you regardless of your state. he’s willing to bet his own health because he knows, he won’t be able to forgive himself if he makes you feel unwanted or that you are a burden to him.
« you’re going to end up just like me. » « you’re worth catching a cold over. »
he wraps his arms around you, bringing you close, and snuggles with you. you lean into his touch, head resting on the crook of his neck as he brushes your hair back, out of your face and presses sweet kisses on top of your head.
« i feel horrible. » « i know babe, i know. »
you watch your favourite movies and shows all day, always with your commentary on top. he gives in to all your wishes and even if he doesn’t like them, he tolerates them just to see you smile again.
when you overcome the dizziness you rest together and he softly reads your favourite book. timothée cracks a smile while reading and he just can’t stop himself once he notices your eyes following along the lines or when you mumble them out loud at the same time.
his eyes are on you while you sleep and he doesn’t leave your side for a second.
« sleep, i’ll be right here. »
he hums gently while playing with your hair, unsure whether or not you are listening until slumber takes over him as well.
when your temperature is high, you deliriously confess your love to him. he tries to soothe you by whispering words of affection and holding your hand tight. timothée intertwines your fingers together as he tells you how much he loves you and that he can’t wait for you to get better.
« i hope you get well as soon as possible, it hurts to see you suffering like this. »
you get embarrassed every time you feel sick in front of him but he reassures you it’s alright and he doesn’t mind it as long as you feel better.
« i’m disgusting... » « no, not to me. »
when it comes to you he can turn into a true hypochondriac. if the fever doesn’t retreat soon, he immediately searches the symptoms online and prepares to call a doctor or take you to the nearest hospital in case it escalates.
the whole situation makes you laugh, even if your head is on fire. he smiles miserably at you and the sound of your laughter brings him comfort.
« do i amuse you ? » « yes. »
timothée respects your silence and doesn’t force you into engaging in conversation.
he calls your mum to inform her of your progress and he’s the one who mostly speaks with her when you don’t feel like talking to anyone other than him.
you’re the only thing that preoccupies his mind while he’s away. he tries to go on with his day but it seems impossible, knowing that you’re alone and sick.
tim checks his phone constantly for any new messages and phones you often to see how you’re doing, remind you to use the thermometer or ask if you need or crave anything.
on his way home, he sometimes brings you your favourite flowers or very specific things he knows that even though you didn’t ask for, you are probably going to change your mind later.
timotée fills you up with his day and tells you all about his silly little encounters as he gently places a hand on your forehead before using the thermometer and helps you change into clean clothes.
it warms his heart watching you getting better and better day by day, becoming more talkative and eager to participate in lengthy conversations, laughing louder and smiling as you both sit on your bed with legs crossed, play cards and eat all the junk he got.
anatomy of a hug ༊*·˚
m.list ◦ askbox
synopsis: cuddling with timothée (hcs)
cuddling is his quiet way of showing you how much he cares for you.
the other’s company is enough and you don’t have to speak, just stay in a comfortable silence. you mold into one. his chin rests on top of your head as his arms wrap around you, keeping you close.
you usually lay together side by side, faces so close that you can inhale the other’s breath. the closeness and the warmth your bodies radiate, create a soothing feeling of safety and comfort.
when sleep is impossible, he wraps one arm around you and lets you lay your head on the crook of his neck. he tells you silly stories, your delirious giggles causing him laughter as well, and you can hear his heart beating faster.
if he’s feeling playful in the morning, he pulls your hand, dragging you back to bed, not letting you leave. his musky smell floats all around your small world as he envelops you in his arms.
« come here... five more minutes... », he rumbles from the deepest parts of his throat. « just come closer. »
on lazy days, you cuddle on the couch while watching movies, trashy ga me shows or anything you find on the tv.
he spoons you with one arm around your waist, stroking your soft skin. his breath on your neck tickles you, stretching a smile on your lips, when he laughs or makes small comments.
he’s restless and has to readjust a million times, which drives you crazy and makes him grin clearly enjoying it.
when you are fatigued, you turn around to face him and you snuggle until sleep fills your eyes. he holds you tightly to him so you won’t fall over and gradually he falls asleep as well.
or he lets you rest your head on his shoulder as you listen to music and you squeeze him. sometimes he sings along, making you chuckle every time he messes up the lyrics.
you prefere cuddling in more private settings like your home or a serene spot outside, but there are times when you are out and you are both tired, so you cling to each other.
your head rests against his chest, heart touching heart, and hands shielding the other from the world in a protective move you’d only find in nature. you raise your chin up at him and he smiles tiredly, his eyes holding a softness that’s only for you. he tilts his forehead against yours and tells you how tired he is and that he can’t wait to get back home.
some nights you cuddle while sitting on the balcony to get some air and have a smoke. he brings you to his lap and lets you sink against him, burring your head on his neck, your lips brushing his skin. his fingers run gently through your hair and he presses kisses on top of your head.
apricity ༊*·˚
m.list ◦ askbox
synopsis: it’s been two years since you and timothée broke up but with a kid in the middle nostalgia is all over the air
It had been two years and life kept going without him.
With time, you came to accept your new reality and the fact that you would never be the same person as you once were.
But there were days when nostalgia covered your heart like a dark cloud stretching in the bright blue sky. Days, you remembered tangled hands, flushed cheeks, silent stares and warm smiles. Days you prayed to last forever.
You missed everything.
Whenever you were together, you were glowing. Everyone seemed to notice how brighter you looked, your hair, your eyes, your smiles. There were only sunny days for you, summer and spring anywhere you looked, as if the other was giving you life.
You were in love. You could feel it and so did everyone around you. No one had ever seen you like that, so carefree, so light, so happy, so warm, so easy to love.
You used to be inseparable; four arms, four legs, no faces for the world to see because you were always too busy looking at the other, blind for your surroundings.
But the day everything ended, you had never felt him more far away.
Your heart broke and with it promises, dreams and hopes for a future that never came.
You remembered your voice barely coming out, with eyes all welled up and swollen, trying to explain to him that you loved him but you couldn’t go on like this. Timothée had to be away for days, weeks, months, and then he returned for a while to golden the pill before he had to leave again. It wasn’t good for Marc to live in the eye of this craziness. Your kid needed his father and you needed him as well.
Your love had slowly turned into a one-sided contract. You had to give in order to receive. And you did. You changed your city to be with him, changed your job, left your parents behind and a whole life you had been building for years, only to spend more time apart than together.
You remembered him standing there, right in front of you, with cheeks red, once swelling with happiness, suddenly swelling with tears, shaky hands and chattering teeth, trying to understand you and promising that you could make it, everything would change if you gave him one more chance.
But you were irrevocable and very very tired.
The years passed by and Marc turned two, three, four. He vaguely remembered the two of you together apart from birthdays you’d plan, photographs in old albums and stories his grandparents and other members of the family would tell him.
He never really had a problem with you living separately; he got used to it, and it was kind of fun until some kids pointed that out and curiosity grew his need to know why you weren’t living in the same house, together like most parents, why he couldn’t have both of you, why, when you used to be so happy, so in love. What changed ? And was it so tragic ?
You had talked with Timothée about this and decided not to tell him anything. He was too young to understand. Maybe one day when he got older, you could have this conversation.
But Marc was stubborn and wouldn’t stop asking questions. You decided to do something about it, to soothe him and let him know that maybe you and his father lived separately but when it involved him you were together.
Tim came by your house every second Friday and he stayed to spend some time the three of you before taking Marc for the weekend - since Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays were his days. It was surreal at first, thankfully not as awkward as you expected, but you got used to it.
Truth was that you missed him and you felt painfully guilty every now and then, thinking of how things could’ve evolved between you. A tiny knife was twisting in your heart, slowly and bitterly, whispering with every twist words of nostalgia, telling you that you could’ve made it in the end and that you could’ve been like that every single day - only if you had been a little more patient and your ego hadn’t ruined everything.
Every time you looked at him, he was feeding your fantasy and the deepest spark of hope of ending up together eventually. But you had accepted that it wasn’t going to happen.
It was damn hope that was breaking him as well. If you missed him once, he missed you ten times more.
You left such an imprint on his heart, it was hard for him to ignore it and pretend it never existed. He looked for you everywhere, in all of his favourite places, in every person he met, trying to find your similarities and your differences. But no one’s love was like yours. Everyone was too sour, too rotten, too bitter.
He wanted you.
Two years in and he had completely lost himself in the past. The desire to turn the past into the present was boiling more and more each time he saw you. He wanted everything with you; happiness, elation, impatient expectancy, worry, idyllic calm, wrath, anger, despair, hurt, all those emotions, pure or ugly, the good and all bad counterparts, he wanted them with you.
Life went on.
It was winter, January, the weather harsh with biting cold ready to freeze off any uncovered parts. It was snowing after many years.
Down at the street, you looked like dark blurs against the backdrop of white.
It was the first time Marc saw snow and he wanted to go out and play one last time before falling asleep. You wouldn’t let him this late at night awake but you and Timothée also wanted to see it before everything melted the next morning.
« I don’t want to put this on ! », Marc whined, running away, hopping over ice ridges and kicking up the powdery snow under the faint, golden rays of square streetlights.
« Ah, got you ! », Timothée managed to pick him up after so much running. The boy tried to jump off his grasp while laughing uncontrollably as his father rubbed his nose against his and smeared kisses all over his face. « Stubborn little monkey. »
« Marcy, » you breathed out exhausted from all the chasing, holding his scarf, beanie and gloves. « Please, put them on, baby. »
« Ah, why ? », he threw his head back on his father as you crouched in front of him.
« Why ? », you asked in fake surprise, patiently swirling the scarf around him, one, two, three loops until his neck was completely covered and a part of his mouth as well, muffling his protests and laughs. « Because I want you to be warm… and healthy… », you cupped his cheeks and gave him a kiss. « With ears… » He giggled when you put on his beanie and adjusted it.
Timothée smiled sweetly at you.
He remembered how scared you were when you first found out that you were pregnant and how many nights he stayed awake and tried to gather your tears, reassuring you that you were going to be a great mother. You had many doubts but he had none.
It turned out, he was right. In fact, « great » was an understatement.
Very few parents would be as patient and caring as you. Timothée watched you crouched in front of Marc, trying to reach his height, taking his hands on yours and putting his gloves on while explaining with clear words that you wanted him strong and healthy so that he’d be able to run, and play, and do all the things he loved so much. Even when he threw the beanie off his head and ran away, you didn’t raise your tone to yell at him just let out a hushed chuckle.
« Never gonna catch me ! Never gonna win ! »
« Please, make him wear it, » you smiled with a painful grimace. Timothée looked at you as you shook away the snow from the cloth before passing it to him.
« Oh, don’t worry. He’ll put this on. »
« I don’t. » A boyish grin appeared on his lips.
« Dad ! », Marc stopped for a second, waiting for him to chase him.
« Oh, I’m coming ! I’m gonna get you ! », Tim said loud enough for Marc to leave a small scream and keep running. Timothée followed him quickly, jumping into frozen caps of snow. « I’m gonna get you ! », he cried and Marc burst out in laughter, giving him small glances on top of his shoulder.
You laughed, watching them chase one another, tossing small snowballs and slipping in the snow every now and then, until Tim caught up to him, caged him in his embrace and wore the beanie on his head, sliding it down until it reached his nose. Marc giggled deliriously as Timothée nudged him and tickled him, their laughter echoing louder and louder through the night, bringing warmth to your heart. He eventually helped him adjust his hat better.
« It scratches ! », Marc whined again.
« Why are you so stubborn ? », Tim nudged his side again.
« Dad ! Stop ! », he laughed. His feet suddenly slipped, and Timothée tried to catch him but Marc was sneaky and dragged him to the plush hills of snow. He climbed then on top of him with no breath. « Surender ? », Timothée huffed before raising his hands up, and nodded eagerly.
« Boys, y’alright ? », you asked with furrowed brows a bit concerned.
« Dad surrendered ! », Marc smiled at you, as you slowly approached them.
Marc tented his hand for you but when you gave it to him, he pulled you down just like he did with his father.
« You’re good ? », Tim turned to you.
« I’m good, » you muttered behind your teeth, trying to get up. Marc’s laughter was loud and clear in the back. « But this little monkey won’t be if I catch him. » He let out a yelp and quickly made his way back to the house, tossing snow out of his path.
« Let me help you, » you gave Tim your hand once you stood up. He looked at it for a second. « Don’t be so suspicious, » a smile appeared on your lips when you saw him chuckling. You rolled your eyes and looked away. « Offer just expired. » As you were about to take your hand back Timothée grabbed it and pulled you down right next to him.
« Ah ! Like father, like son ! » He laughed.
« Looks like he took something from me after all. »
« Something ? Tim, he looks exactly like you. » He grinned proudly at your words and you nodded eagerly. « It’s cunning. »
« And he has my mischievousness. » You smiled. « He’s a good kid, » he said as an afterthought. You looked at him for a moment before your stare fell down. The situation was tragicomic, it deserved a bitter smile.
« Yeah, he is, » you murmured.
Those little moments you spent together reminded you of how much you missed being next to him. You didn’t even have to talk, just sit in silence. It was painful knowing you’d never feel like that again without a hint of pain.
Timothée furrowed his brows, his eyes following you as you got up, and, this time without offering your hand, headed to the house.
He ran behind you, the sound of his boots sinking into the smooth surface making you smile. You turned to wait for him and once he reached you, he playfully touched the back of your neck with his bare hand. A long gasp escaped your mouth and your back arched, the cold transferring goosebumps down your spine. You pushed him away, mumbling all sorts of curses as he joined you inside laughing.
« Hands ? », you pointed at Marc who was bringing a pile of toys to the living room. Timothée checked on his watch the time and it was too late.
« Washed ‘em ! »
« You sure ? », you raised a brow.
« I washed them, smell, » he raised one hand for you to see which caused some toys to fall to the ground. Marc groaned.
« I trust you. »
Tim grasped some of the toys from his hug to help him and you picked up the rest from the ground.
« Where are you going with all of these, baby ? It’s time for bed. »
« But I’m not sleepy, dad... » You left the toys on top of the living room table.
« You need to rest, you know what time it is ? », Timothée rubbed his shoulder gently. Marc looked at him pleadingly.
« I wanna stay and play with you... »
« But we’re gonna sleep too, » Tim said. « We’ll put you to bed, and then we’ll sleep because we’re very tired. »
« No, I wanna stay with you... Please... »
« Alright, here’s what we’re gonna do, » you said taking his hand in yours. « We’ll leave all the toys here and you’ll go to bed now- »
« No, please, mum, » he squeezed your palm.
« Just listen, I’m making a suggestion, » you said and Tim just couldn’t hold on to his smile. « The later you sleep the less energy you’ll have in the morning and you won’t be able to play. So, what we’re gonna do is leave everything right here and in the morning you can play for as long as you want. » Marc breathed out and reluctantly nodded.
« Will you wake me up early ? », he mumbled raising his hands for Timothée to take him in his arms. He did so pressing a kiss on his cheek as Marc failed to suppress a yawn.
« Of course I will, » you ruffled his hair.
« Promise ? »
« Yeah. »
« Swear to God ? » You chuckled.
« Yeah, swear to God. »
« Hope to die ? »
« Hope to die. » He smiled sleepily, letting his head fall on his father’s shoulder as you headed into his bedroom.
You leaned against the doorframe while Tim put him to his bed.
« Tuck me in, please ? », he murmured. Timothée pulled the covers around him. He his hair back to press a kiss on his forehead and you walked closer. You leaned on top of his bed to kiss his cheek for good night.
« Good night, baby. »
« Love you, monkey. »
« Love you too, dad, » his hand wrapped around yours for a moment. « Stay till I fall asleep ? » You nodded in return.
You stayed in silence for a few minutes, watching Marc slowly close his eyes. He was sprawled out on his tummy, nose pressed on the side of the pillow, nostrils flaring, releasing small snores from his mouth.
Timothée stared at you as you pushed gently curls out of his eyes. He had forgotten how it felt to be loved by you but he could see it in Marc, the most delicate and pure kind of love.
A grin appeared on your lips, and you turned to him.
« I love looking at him when he’s sleeping, » you whispered. « He reminds me of when he was a baby. Remember ? »
Every time he watched how much you loved your son and cared about him, it reminded him of why he had fallen in love with you in the first place. He fell for you because you cared about the ones you loved and your love reflected on them, that’s why he was glowing every time he was with you. And he had missed that glow and you, the one causing it.
You could feel his gaze on you so you turned to him.
« I remember, » he said softly. « And I miss everything... » Your eyes stayed on him. « Is it too late ? »
The next morning, you had breakfast in a strange silence, only Marc talking and you softly smiling and nodding at whatever he was saying. You avoided Timothée’s eyes and he preferred to look at his plate, which Marc found weird and exchanged glances between the two of you trying to find out what had happened all of a sudden.
« Alright, » you kissed Marc’s forehead as he put on his seatbelt in the back of Timothée’s car. « Have fun with dad. »
« Bye, mum ! », Marc waved his hand.
« I’m gonna miss you, baby, » you said and closed the car door. He pouted his lips and placed his palm on the window. You placed your hand on top of his for a moment before turning to Tim. « Okay, drive safe. » He was biting his lips clearly troubled by your last night’s conversation. « We’re good, Timothée, » you meant to reassure him that everything was fine but he just motioned to your house.
« I’ll walk you to the door, » he said, following beside you with hands buried in his pockets. Your mind was blurry, couldn’t really think anything, just waited for him to take back everything he said, to tell you that he got carried away by nostalgia and it was just a delirium.
You wrapped your arms around you as he lingered on the doorframe.
« About last night, » he looked at you. You shook your head dismissively, facing the ground, not being able to hold his gaze.
« We’re good, Timothée. »
« No, euh… », he breathed out thinking of how to say what he wanted to say. But it was your time to speak and you had only one question to ask.
« Did you mean it ? » He nodded. Your eyes fell down again but you could feel him staring at you, waiting for something more. « Alright, » you said, pulling your hair back. « Euh... drive safe. » He stood better, taking a step back.
« Hey, euh... Do you wanna go out sometime ? »
« Sure, when Marc- »
« No, no, » he shook his head quickly. « Go out like... just us. Properly. Like on a date. » You raised your brows in surprise and he shrugged. You just stared at each other for a moment, one unable to believe what he had just said, the other unable to believe what she had just heard.
« Okay... But no flowers. »
« Okay, got it, » Tim said, moving back, biting his lips so he could stop himself from smiling. « Okay, bye. »
« Drive safe. »
David Garrett
Lud BUNTE in sein Super-Apartment in New York S68
Source David Garett USA Fans
Cute, lil' fae girl for the timeline. I actually love this one a lot! Just posted the painting process for this piece on my Youtube Channel, so please don't forget to check it out!
Art by me - @thistle-fae -
DO NOT REPOST. DO NOT REUSE. DO NOT REMOVE WATERMARKS. I have the final say on all my art. Please respect artists and the hours of work they do. See more of my art on my gallery.
NOT BY ME, I JUST FOUND THESE ON GOOGLE :)
I decided to edit the drawing and I really like how she came out. It's kinda hard to see but that's the point :). Since she came out from the shadows and snapped Cesar's neck like a kit-kat.
𝚂𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝙷𝚘𝚖𝚎!
𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘨𝘪𝘧𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶.. 𝘊𝘦𝘴𝘢𝘳
Have some Cecelia art, I haven't really drawn anything about her actually.. Uhh being scary. The context behind this is in this AU, Alt!Cecelia is the reason Cesar died, then he got replaced by an Alternate promptly after. And she and Alt!Cesar just kept the "relationship" together to prevent further suspicions from coming up, as Cece and Cesar were still dating when they were humans.
Lilithclawthornecharic Pride Flags “Lilithclawthornecharic is a fictigender that is connected to Lilith Clawthorne from the TV show The Owl House. It may or may not be a kingender or focigender.”
Kojogender Pride Flags “Kojogender is a gender relating to the person m35h1c0r3 is. A gender that is cold on the outside and rotton on the inside. Like a sickly black rose.” NOTICE: I DO NOT SUPPORT M35H1C0R3.
вибрав-рух-у віці/vybravrukhuvitsi/vitsigenic pride flags
“Vitsigenic is an origin term. It can be headmates who were formerly in one type of system, but has moved to a system of a different type than the headmates own. This can result in the headmates origins changing.” "It can also be for systems whose origins have changed due to headmates formerly from a different system moving in."
vvelcome to the one and only, anarchy-flagz blog, ran by kokocola!
this post will tell you everything you probably need to know about this blog.
1. who runs this blog? me, i do! here on the internet im a washed up superstar who uses the name "kokocola" on most websites. i also have a brother named cesar whos currently trying to become more famous than me, you can check heart out at @amorality-flagz . you can check out my flowpage if you would like to know more about me: https://www.flowcode.com/page/kokocola *note that on my internet pages i generally dont use my typing quirk for accessibility reasons.
2. what are the posts? this blog posts pride flags. most are made by the being who runs the blog. there might be daily posts, but dont worry if theres not. if you want to know which flags are created by me check question 3.
3. do you use any specific hashtags to organize? yes! here is a guide to them: #anarchy-flagz : the main tag for all of my posts #anarchy-flagz-is-over-party : terms or flags ive made #anarchy-flagz-simping : asks being answered #anarchy-flagz-boo-boo-bunny : personal text posts
4. do you have a DNI? nope, not really. flags and terms should be free for everyone to use.
5. are requests/asks/dms/etc. open? yes! im always happy to help with anything that anyone needs. you can even send in random stuff or questions if you want to. also if anyone would like to give me advise on blog accessibility or blog building/formatting then that would be nice.
just remember this, kindness is key!
безміток-текучий🌈 Pride Flag and Symbol “”безміток-текучий🌈” translating to “unlabeled-fluid🌈” can mean anything you want it to. it is anything you can think of or dream of.”
hihi!! can i request a cesar torres sexual and romantic term for attraction to cesar torres from mandela catalogue? :>
CesarTorresGender Pride Flags
CesarTorresGender: a xenogender relating/connected to Cesar Torres from The Mandela Catalogue.
CesarTorressexual Pride Flags
CesarTorressexual: sexual attraction primarily or entirely to Cesar Torres from The Mandela Catalogue.
CesarTorresmantic Pride Flags
CesarTorresmantic: romantic attraction primarily or entirely to Cesar Torres from The Mandela Catalogue.
CesarTorresGender Pride Symbols
Can you make a gender for Luz's palisman from for the future? Idc if anyone thinks I'm "wrong" for watching the leaked episode
another anon wanting a xenogender, cool! ive seen the episode with my friend to so here you go-
Stringbeangender/Luzpalismanic Pride Flags + Symbols
“Stringbeangender/Luzpalismanic is a xenogender connected to Luz's palisman named String Bean from the show "The Owl House."”
this post has been edited. i no longer want to be anywhere near that thing. i dont even want to think of that guy. everyone please just pretend i never knew this dude. and please please please just act like that this guy didnt make me break my own morals and such.
Metaphysical Awareness Disorder (MAD) Pride Flags + Variants + Symbols
Metaphysical Awareness Disorder (MAD): "Metaphysical Awareness Disorder (MAD) is the disorder from "The Mandela Catalogue.""
CisMetaphysical Awareness Disorder (CisMAD): "Metaphysical Awareness Disorder (MAD) is the disorder from "The Mandela Catalogue." This label is for those who already have it."
TransMetaphysical Awareness Disorder (TransMAD): "Metaphysical Awareness Disorder (MAD) is the disorder from "The Mandela Catalogue." This label is for those who are transitioning to have it."
MADcoric Pride Flags + Symbol
"MADcoric is a xenogender connected to Metaphysical Awareness Disorder from The Mandela Catalogue or just the disorder itself."
TransRadioVoice Pride Flags + Symbol
“TransRadioVoice is a transvoice term for when one is transitioning/already transitioned to having a radio esque voice.”