#and above all else understand that sometimes people just like things that you don't like

[acacia-shade]

I will preface this with the fact that some of us like to call ourselves median, while some do not care to do so. I figure this is still a helpful perspective nevertheless. Best of luck in figuring things out.

answers below the cut

(I've turned the questions green because something about this was getting hard to read for me sorry)

Was there ever one, big "Aha!" Moment for you? Or several smaller ones? What was the event(s) like, what happened? We discovered that we're a system in kind of an odd way that we don't really talk about but it wasn't a big moment, it was a long and slow progression. we've always talked to each other, and we've always switched, we just didn't see those things as anything notable or understand quite what was going on, it's just how 'I' was. Of course we didn't notice those things as much before either. Even when we discovered plurality, we didn't consider that it could apply to us for a long time, it seemed far too big and obvious. Over time we learnt more, started to see people who seemed a bit like us, than people who seemed a little more like us, and eventually we looked back and realised that at some point along the way we'd started understanding ourselves as plural too.

For those of you with no headspace or very limited internal interaction, what is that like for you? We don't really have a headspace but we interact just fine. I actually don't know how to describe us talking to each other. its like. our conversations are thoughts back and forth mostly or out loud words and thoughts but the most of the 'thoughts' have a specific feel or ...sound? to them that i don't know how to describe. How did you discover your system and how do you communicate (if at all)? Do you experience uncontrolled inner voices, like a lot of multiple systems do, or something else (internal/"ghost" emotions, visual projections, random thoughts popping up)? We often talk in words but we can also understand the greater meaning or intention behind them even if alone they might be kind of incoherent sometimes. we also can talk in just emotions and we have some parts who more commonly only communicate in vague feelings. as for visual projections we also get those, not like hallucinations of any kind, just visual thoughts and such. random thoughts we actually don't really get for all that those are pretty common to my knowledge. actually i am being reminded that that does happen on occasion but mostly we just get random parts just commenting on stuff or suggesting things without having called for them or anything, like just then when someone reminded me of a time or two we have gotten random thoughts.

Do you experience some form of frontstuckness, whether it's "nobody can ever front except one facet" or "I'm a shell and everyone fronts through me"? No. Due to how we switch though I suppose we could view it that way. When we switch it feels like we've 'become the next fronter' and we're not wildly different so it wouldn't be hard to see things in the way mentioned in the question but it doesn't help us to view things that way so we don't.

Semi related to above, how do you recognize switches? Especially early in your journey. We often don't often recognise switches unless we're looking for them. There are a couple indicators that sometimes appear for us though, if we've been in a room or doing something for a while only to feel like we've just got there we've probably switched, if what we're doing suddenly feels boring or unpleasant when it didn't before we've probably switched, if the boring or unpleasant thing we're doing seems interesting now we've probably switched, if our sense of self seems different somehow than it was before we've probably switched. I think you get the gist, if our opinion on something or view of the world or ourself feels different to 'before' we've probably switched at some point since then. Are they subtle? Our switches tend to be pretty subtle, mind you sometimes our body language or voice does change somewhat notably (mostly we mask without really realising though). Can you switch intentionally or is it random? We can't switch intentionally for the most part, a few of us do have front triggers that we know of and sometimes we might use those, but mostly it's just whoever is out. We do have some luck with calling parts into cocon though.

How do you discover the identities of your facets, whether they're another you or someone entirely unique? Barring one of us who is notably different, already had a pretty strong sense of identity and also never fronts (he's in cocon a lot), we've mostly just worked ourselves out by living. I know that I like minecraft and the sims because I'm the one who most often reaches for them, we know that another part likes organising because it makes them happy when they do, theres a lot of stuff like that. For other stuff sometimes we can just ask if the part we want to ask is around or they can be drawn into cocon. A lot of the time though we don't know, we just have to work it out over time. Sometimes we just know there is a part that has a trait even if we know nothing else about them too, like I know that there is at least one of us who sometimes fronts who hates the music we have on our phone, even though I don't know almost anything else about them.

Prior to self discovery, did you ever experience talking to your brain/body/"inner self" as a separate being to yourself, whether or not you actually believed they could respond or were conscious? Yes, but we still do that. A lot of us tend to talk to ourselves, our brain, and our body without intending for anyone in our system to hear or respond, it's just how a lot of us think. We did however talk to each other a lot before we realised we were a system too. Sometimes we interpreted it as imaginary friends, sometimes as just talking to ourself, sometimes as something else.

Have you ever had the experience of "not being able to pick just one aesthetic", which you later discovered was your plurality? i don't remember at all, probably because we normally don't care about aesthetics for most things (and we've known we're a system for a good while now so any memory of that has long since faded). i've seen this sort of thing mentioned by other systems several times though.

Are you monoconscious, polyconscious, or something else? we don't really bother with consciousness labels so i don't have any answer to that question. Are your facets "conscious/aware" in headspace/while not fronting? Is the current fronter aware of/able to interact with the other facets while fronting? we're not really conscious when we're not near the front. we do have folks sit in cocon for a chat and such sometimes, and obviously they're aware of things when that's going on and the fronter can interact with them when that's happening but if not, they aren't aware of stuff. i will note here that we don't have a 'headspace' in terms of 'a place folks go when they're not fronting' only a 'headspace' in terms of a visualisation tool sort of thing that folks around the front might use if they want. (Basically just a place to imagine ourselves into if we so desire for some reason.)

feel free to ask us questions about this or anything else, i find answering this kind of stuff fun.

Hiiii, plural community! Questions for median systems, while I explore the possibility of being one myself, answer as many as you like:

What made you start questioning whether you were a system or not? And what brought you to discovering and adopting the "median" label?

Was there ever one, big "Aha!" Moment for you? Or several smaller ones? What was the event(s) like, what happened?

For neurodivergent medians, how did you differentiate your systemhood from the rest of your neurodivergencies? (Ex: the difference between autistic masking and subtle/fluid switches, identity issues from personality disorder vs genuine facets, etc)

For those of you with no headspace or very limited internal interaction, what is that like for you? How did you discover your system and how do you communicate (if at all)? Do you experience uncontrolled inner voices, like a lot of multiple systems do, or something else (internal/"ghost" emotions, visual projections, random thoughts popping up)?

Do you experience some form of frontstuckness, whether it's "nobody can ever front except one facet" or "I'm a shell and everyone fronts through me"?

Semi related to above, how do you recognize switches? Especially early in your journey. Are they subtle? Can you switch intentionally or is it random?

How do you discover the identities of your facets, whether they're another you or someone entirely unique?

Prior to self discovery, did you ever experience talking to your brain/body/"inner self" as a separate being to yourself, whether or not you actually believed they could respond or were conscious?

For those of you who are stoners, how does weed affect you and potential switches? Does it make switching/recognizing a switch easier?

Have you ever had the experience of "not being able to pick just one aesthetic", which you later discovered was your plurality?

Are you monoconscious, polyconscious, or something else? Are your facets "conscious/aware" in headspace/while not fronting? Is the current fronter aware of/able to interact with the other facets while fronting?

⚠️ NO SYSCOURSE ON THIS POST ⚠️

I do not want to engage in syscourse, do not attempt to start any with me. I simply want to hear about others experiences and hope to learn something about myself in the process. If you want drama, go elsewhere.

[captainjonnitkessler]

The second you start talking about some mysterious "they" that are controlling society in some fashion, you are engaging in dangerous conspiratorial thinking even if you're being woke about it. "They" did not institute the 40 hour work week specifically so you would be too tired to revolt. "They" did not invent the sleek minimalist aesthetic in order to crush the spirit of art in the common people. "They" are not pushing mediocre media into the mainstream in order to poison people's critical thinking skills.

Your best case scenario after that is you talk to someone who actually knows what the fuck they're talking about and you get embarrassed because you can't answer basic questions about your own ideology because you never learned anything past "the ruling class/capitalists/politicians are making things bad and if we got rid of them the bad things would all go away!"

Your worst case scenario is obviously the woo-to-fascist pipeline and you end up believing Jews are poisoning American food supplies with GMOs in order to turn us all into beta cucks, so like . . . maybe just stop blaming "them" before you fall down that route.

Obligatory round of disclaimers: Yes, sometimes people do bad things. Be specific about exactly who is doing what instead of ascribing it to some vague group of shadowy elites. Yes, sometimes things in society are bad. Learn to identify the root causes of complex social issues instead of assuming that they're actually extremely simple to fix and we're just not doing it because of some vague group of shadowy elites. Yes, minimalism isn't for everyone. Learn that some people don't share your tastes and get the fuck over it for the love of god.

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

for whom good omens is being written

Hey maggots and the rest of the fandom, it's the Good Omens Mascot here. Today I read a post about this tweet:

The accompanying video genuinely made me cry. And I've been thinking about this for a long while, as far back as February, when I saw a lot of conflicting opinions on what people wanted from the third season. It really is true that no matter what you do, some people will be dissatisfied. But what matters is that Neil is writing this for Terry.

And I was reminded of some paragraphs from the Good Omens TV Companion, which I'd read in Amazon's sample excerpt of the book. I know this is a long post, but I really truly do think you all need to read these, I've done my best to select only the most important parts. Here you go:

'His Alzheimer's started progressing harder and faster than either of us had expected,' says Neil, referring to a period in which Terry recognized that despite everything he could no longer write. 'We had been friends for over thirty years, and during that time he had never asked me for anything. Then, out of the blue, I received an email from him with a special request. It read: “Listen, I know how busy you are. I know you don't have time to do this, but I want you to write the script for Good Omens. You are the only human being on this planet who has the passion, love and understanding for the old girl that I do. You have to do this for me so that I can see it." And I thought, “OK, if you put it like that then I'll do it."

'I had adapted my own work in the past, writing scripts for Death: The High Cost of Living and Sandman, but not a lot else was seen. I'd also written two episodes of Doctor Who, and so I felt like I knew what I was doing. Usually, having written something once I'd rather start something new, but having a very sick co-author saying I had to do this?' Neil spreads his hands as if the answer is clear to see. 'I had to step up to the plate.' A pause, then: 'All this took place in autumn 2014, around the time that the BBC radio adaptation of Good Omens was happening,' he continues, referring to the production scripted and co-directed by Dirk Maggs and starring Peter Serafinowicz and Mark Heap. ‘Terry had talked me into writing the TV adaptation, and I thought OK, I have a few years. Only I didn't have a few years,' he says. 'Terry was unconscious by December and dead by March.'

He pauses again. 'His passing took all of us by surprise,' Neil remembers. 'About a week later, I started writing, and it was very sad. The moments Terry felt closest to me were the moments I would get stuck during the writing process. In the old days, when we wrote the novel, I would send him what I'd done or phone him up. And he would say, "Aahh, the problem, Grasshopper, is in the way you phrase the question," and I would reply, "Just tell me what to do!" which somehow always started a conversation. 'In writing the script, there were times I'd really want to talk to Terry, and also places where I'd figure something out and do something really clever, and I would want to share it with him. So, instead, I would text Terry's former personal assistant, Rob Wilkins, now his representative on Earth. It was the nearest thing I had.'

(...) As Neil himself recognizes, this is an adaptation built upon the confidence that comes from three decades of writing for page and screen. But for all the wisdom of experience, he found that above all one factor guided him throughout the process. 'Terry isn't here, which leaves me as the guardian of the soul of the story,' he explains. 'It's funny because sometimes I found myself defending Terry's bits harder or more passionately than I would defend my own bits. Take Agnes Nutter,' he says, referring to what has become a key scene in the adaptation in which the seventeenth-century author of the book of prophecies foretelling the coming of the Antichrist is burned at the stake. ‘It was a huge, complicated and incredibly expensive shoot, with bonfires built and primed to explode as well as huge crowds in costume. It had to feel just like an English village in the 1640s, and of course everyone asked if there was a cheap way of doing it. 'One suggestion was that we could tell the story using old-fashioned woodcuts and have the narrator take us through what happened, but I just thought, “No”. Because I had brought aspects of the story like Crowley and the baby swap along to the mix, and Terry created Agnes Nutter. So, if I had cut out Agnes then I wouldn't be doing right by the person who gave me this job. Terry would've rolled over in his grave.'

And, finally, this paragraph:

"Once again, Neil cites the absence of his co-writer as his drive to ensure that Good Omens translated to the screen and remained true to the original vision. 'Terry's last request to me was to make this something he would be proud of. And so that has been my job.'"

I think that's so heartwrenchingly beautiful, and so I wanted you all to read this, too, just in case you (like me) don't have the Good Omens TV Companion. It adds another layer of depth and emotion to this already complex and amazing story that we all know and love.

Share this post, if you can, please, so that more people can read these excerpts :")

Tagging @neil-gaiman, @fuckyeahgoodomens and @orpiknight, even if you've definitely read these before :)

[nemesyaaa]

favorite crime // psycho!stalker!rafe x innocent!reader

summary ; sometimes being the obsession of someone can turn really bad. sometimes being friend to someone doesn't mean that you really know this person, and mostly, that your kindness will be returned.

warnings : dark content. stalking. manipulation. crimes : murder/kidnapping. smut. sick, poker face, and insane behavior. toxic attitude. innocence kink. violence. dubcon. fear/vulnerability enthousiast. jealousy. dark!mean!rafe. corruption. abuse of power. creepy behavior. minors dni. as always, be careful with the warnings please. don't joke with it.

author's note : i really love how all my concepts with rafe are so fucked up. it's around 2,6k words.

as a shy and innocent girl, too kind for your own good and too sweet to attract nice boys, you had always attracted rafe's attention. especially when you were the pretty employee at his favorite video game store. it was only for you that he spent hours in front of the cash register, trying to get to know you when in reality, he knew you by heart, every detail of your life. he was obsessed with you. he was already terribly sick, diving into your perfect kindness and purity.

you didn't understand why people were afraid of him or said bad things about him because you found him charming and lovely. that was the impression he forced himself to give you. he always had nicknames for you like pumpkin, doll, cupcake, sweet, pretty thing.

the first time he walked into the store, your store manager was yelling at you. and you felt so ashamed and small. there were customers and that made you nervous. you were already crying, impossible to contain your tears in the face of the excess anger you received from this man. it wasn't the first time he did this but maybe the last.

you quickly returned to work, still in tears facing the products on the shelves and the new customer came to you. with a box of donuts. strangely, you didn't know how he could know that you liked it and that it was your favorite. but the attention was touching, more important for you.

“i bought them especially for you. it would hurt my heart if you refused them.”

“you didn’t have to do that.” you replied politely and smiled.

“i know but i wanted to do it. someone has to pay attention to you, and check on your messy health, pumpkin.”

"oh my manager is usually nice. i don't know what's going on."

"you're lying. you're lying because you're too kind to say bad things about people when they're fucking assholes. but don't worry, it won't happen again."

“how can you be sure?”

“enjoy your donuts, don’t think about anything else. let me ease you, pretty thing. ”

the next day, your manager had never been so nice to you. and the other days too. and he always disappeared in rafe's presence. it brought you a lot closer together, because now he came every day. you didn't know if rafe HAD time, or he FOUND it just for you. all you knew was that he made your days in the store so much better.

by coming here, he had become a loyal customer but also someone you could talk to, and he pretended not to know every moment of your private life while he spied on you as soon as he left the store.

he could stay in his car for hours until you finished work. he wasn't just watching you, no, he had also hacked into the cameras at your workplace to be able to record, listen and follow everything you did. nothing escaped him.

he was a jealous person and above all someone who didn't like having his ego attacked. that meant he definitely wasn't going to put up with you having this cute and perfect attitude with the other customers. well, especially men.

you were only doing your job for which you were poorly paid. to avoid getting bored and because you were trying to work on your shyness, you tried to come out of your shell by talking with customers.

but you made a mistake today. you didn't know it yet but you were going to regret it deeply and learn it hard.

"i think you're really pretty and you're so interesting..." the boy began, stammering a little, his elbows resting on the checkout counter. "i mean, it's rare to find girls like you... would you go out with me... i mean tonight haha! we could play a game ? "

it wasn't the first time you'd been flirted with, but certainly the first time you'd accepted. you had never dated anyone, you had never been in a relationship, you didn't even know what it felt like to truly be in love, to feel something for someone. and even if you were, you were too shy to admit it. but it was different, you wanted to try. you didn't have a plan tonight.

"you don't have to accept but here's my number..." he wrote on a post-it and you smiled back. you put it in the back pocket of your jeans.

you were so deep in thought that you couldn't have seen that the minute your new friend left the store, rafe got out of his car. he doesn't entered yet, he had something to sort out first.

but when he went to the store, you felt him different. there were bruises on his face, as if he had been in a fight. “what happened? do you want me to call an ambulance? "

“it's alright, pumpkin. it's just a little blood.”

“do you want me to take care of that?”

"it would be bad of me to abuse your time and your kindness. i have better things to offer, how about I walk you home tonight? i know your work is not close to where you live and i have my car right here...'

you had been surprised that he knew information like this. “no, don’t worry. besides, i’m busy this evening. ”

rafe's jaw tensed and contracted. he gave a tense and forced smile.

“ let me do this for you. you must be tired. ”

“you don’t need to do this for me, although I truly appreciate it.”

“you're wrong, i need to do this for you, sweetheart. just like everything you do for me. ”

“if you insist, it can’t kill me!”

if only you knew…

“ you're really so nice, pumpkin..."

“is that a bad thing?”

he scratched his chin with a light but somewhat dramatic smile before looking into your eyes. you were in ambiguous proximity since you were both leaning over the counter. he was taller than you, so you looked up.

"to be kind? no, not at all, sweetheart. it's just dangerous for you not to know who you're nice to. not all people are that sweet. sometimes they're really mean.”

“ what do…”

“ anyways, don't make me wait later. and you know you look really pretty today, you should dress up for me more often.”

you smiled. you couldn't ignore how nice it felt to receive a compliment, and especially from a pretty handsome boy. in one day, everything had gone by so quickly. you had a date, and rafe was taking you home. your evening promised to be perfect and unforgettable. you couldn’t wait.

at the end of the day. you had cleaned, tidied up all the shelves, turned off all the consoles, counted your cash register then closed shop in a breath of glory. you could finally relax.

as promised, rafe was waiting for you. he was leaning against his car, hands in his pockets.

he had opened your car door in a relatively clever way and then stood inside. he had closed the doors. and he had started. except he wasn't going the way to your house, he was going in the opposite direction.

“rafe, it’s not towards my house…”

“ i know, sweetheart, since we’re not going to your house.”

“but you said you were taking me home?”

“pumpkin, i lie a lot too.”

"rafe, i want to go home... seriously, this isn't fun. i have to meet someone tonight and he's going to wait for me ! "

“trust me, he’s not waiting for you.”

you were starting to panic because this really wasn't the person you knew. this time he didn't seem to be playing a character to please you. he was natural. you looked at him with big eyes. fear gripped your stomach, because you didn't know where you were going and he could go anywhere. you were on the verge of exploding, you needed to get out of that car but he was driving too fast.

“slow down, rafe. please, slow down.”

"oh no sweet thing, i make the rules here. you can't beg because i absolutely don't want to hear anything from you, you understand? i want you to stay nice and quiet like you've always been."

“rafe, fucking stop that car. "

he stopped suddenly, your head had hit the dashboard badly. he had gently lifted your face, putting your hair back in place while you cried into his hands from the emotion and shock.

“see? what happens when you swear like that? do you understand why you have to be polite now? it's a waste for a pretty girl like you to have such vocabulary. ”

you felt the tips of his lips on your nose, they were cold but comforting. there was something so bitter and disturbing in his tenderness as if there was nothing good even in his kindness. that all this affection was manipulation.

“i really want to go home.”

“i have a surprise for you. can you be patient?”

“ rafe, what is wrong…?”

“i’m taking care of you right now.”

"it's a kidnapping! i'm going to call the police."

he smiled wickedly as he resumed driving. “in your place, i wouldn’t make a single move. ”

“why? are you going to kill me?”

" oh i could, pumpkin. for now, i like you alive but if you still want to play silly with me, i might really want to. no, i will. so stay still and don’t make me be mean to you, i’d hate to have to hurt you.”

“if you don’t like hurting me, why are you doing this to me?” your tears were hot, rivers shining down your eyes. he was cruel and insensitive there. it didn't matter to him.

“ i really hate you..."

" oh such a pleasure actually pumpkin. tell me how much you hate me with those pretty annoying crybaby tears on your face. and don't forget to tell me when you're dry, i will gladly make you cry again. “

your throat felt tight and you were desperate. you had a knot in your stomach, fear that made you even more stupid and lost than you already were. because certainly, there was hatred but a lot of fear. he drove quietly, but he was mean to you. he no longer had the kind words he had for you when he came to see you at work. it was as if he was mad at you for something.

“what can i do to get you to take me home? "

“i could make you do a lot of things, but under no circumstances will i take you home.”

“you want sex? "

"oh i'm not sure that the virgin that you are would be able to make me cum but you can always prove me wrong."

“are you really going to kill me?”

“the more you ask me, the more i have the impression that this is what you would like.”

“i want to stay alive and go home.”

"you had to think about that before flirting with that idiot."

he had parked in an abandoned place, on a completely deserted road. when he opened the doors, you took your chance.

what a stupid mistake.

he was much bigger and faster than you. he had caught up with you without even running out of breath. he pulled you by the waist, pinning his arm against your bare stomach. he was clearly abusing all of his power. you had bitten him and he had released you. you fell heavily to the ground, and he positioned himself on top of you, crushing you against the grass with his fully beefy weight.

“it’s not time to play yet. try to escape from me again sweet thing, and i promise you that i will make sure that you have no more energy to run, but especially to escape. ” he had grabbed your jaw with one hand, gripping his fingers tightly against your skin. “and even if you are innocent, pumpkin. you and i know very well that you are aware of what i mean by that.”

your heart rate had increased so quickly. you were trapped and vulnerable. you wanted to spit in his face but you weren’t that suicidal.

he took your hand and placed it on his bulge which literally distorted his pants. “that's all that your heartbeat and your accelerated breathing make me feel right now. is it big? yes, and believe me i can make this bigger and very painful for you. so, no more playing, pumpkin.”

you nodded and he kissed your forehead. “you got it well, sweetheart. don’t let me be mean to you again because you’re really going to hate it.”

he stood up and extended his hand towards you. his tenderness was so unhealthy. he had taken you to the car and pulled a tied up boy out of the trunk.

the one you were supposed to see this evening. you let out a huge cry, taking several steps back but rafe took your hand, wrapping it too tightly against your little wrist.

“why did you do that? please leave me alone. i don’t want to see that!”

"oh oh, you're not the one who makes the rules here. i’m the only one who makes the fucking rules, i'm the only one who decides and not only do i decide what happens but also what role you're going to play. you wanted to flirt with this guy, go on a date with him? you had to be smarter and not do it in front of my eyes now look what you did this poor man is going to die because of you.”

"are you serious? you can't kill an innocent person! he didn't do anything."

"pumpkin, my sweet pumpkin, for every word you say, for every tear you shed, he will take a bullet. so please continue to defend him. i think we are already more than twenty"

you wanted to stop crying but you couldn't because the situation was surreal, horrible and so crazy. you refused to believe that rafe cameron could be a man like that.

“almost fifty. you're really going to kill him, sweetheart. you could be nicer. "

he was so sick and bad. he was taking advantage of the situation. it was completely sadistic. “i beg you to spare him.”

"now you beg for him? pumpkin, i’m the only one you can and should beg for."

he had fired more than fifty bullets into this poor guy's body. without the slightest shame, the slightest remorse and the slightest guilt. he didn't really feel anything. as you collapsed, completely devastated and ruined by what he had just done to you.

he had just killed a man in front of your eyes.

people always said that a guy who killed for you was romantic. but you didn't find it romantic. on the contrary, it had downright tortured you. you were afraid of him. you didn't even know how you managed not to piss on yourself because clearly, he was so creepy.

" i think he's dead." it was ironic, but coming from rafe, it wasn't funny or reassuring.

"what's wrong with you? and what are you doing with a gun? all those video games that made you sick or those horror movies?"

“watch your tone. you see how i killed him? it could be your turn too. ”

“no, don’t kill me!”

he moved closer to you, a laugh passing his lips. he knelt down to caress your tears with his thumb.

“you see what happens when you want to please others? how are you going to fix this now? ”

“i beg you to not kill me. ” you couldn't even see the ground, you were crying so much. it was a traumatic scene.

“now it's time to play. maybe i should have waited before killing him. i mean i wish he could watch you get destroyed by my cock. get in the car, and don't try to escape from me. i can be even more cruel to you. ”

he was hot and cold. all the time. you went to the car while you guessed that he must bury or hide the body somewhere. it had seemed like an eternity before he came back but on the one hand, there was something comforting about the fact that you weren't alone in the forest and that there was someone. even if it was cool.

he had gotten into the car. and patted his thighs to signal you to come on top. you didn't argue and came on his legs. you immediately felt his erection against the fabric of your underwear. it could hardly be ignored because the bulge had literally made you a few centimeters taller.

“are you still crying? he was a poor guy. he had a fucking girlfriend. do you want to date a guy who cheats on you? it's not worth it. you are better than that, you deserve better than that. ”

“by better, does that mean you? ”

“it’s different...but sure i would treat you better.”

“you killed someone in front of my eyes!”

“see? anything i can do for you.”

"you're sick and you ruined my life!"

"i’m tired of all this hysteria. i was going to kindly offer to prepare you with lube, but since you're offering me these pretty tears, we'll make do with it..."

“rafe…”

“oh no pumpkin. it’s not time to say my name yet.”

when he pushed himself inside you, the leaking tip slipped in your folds slick with a hard and brutal thrust. he made his way, watching his own cock stretching your cunt. you cried out from the pain, but you can't help but felt a little slight pleasure. “ if you're still crying for him, i swear i'm gonna fuck you until you're dry. ”

you started to bounce on him with your trembling legs, your ass slapping his thick thighs, your hair shaking on your shoulders, and your face ruined by your multiples and messy whining. you were tense as his girth splitted your sweet virgin cunt. he forced you to sped up the pace, smacking your butt every time you were too slow. his hands was big and strong, enough to feel the pain. especially, when the rings on his fingers left a mark on your poor skin. your tits were now on his hands, pressed firmly and your nipples on his mouth. he spat on them a couple of times. they were filled with spittles and marks, the succions noises in synchro with your rocking bodies. he was stuffed you with his hard dick. making you arched your back, and he placed his heavy hands on your waist, reaching your hips to help you go deeper, to fully take him, every inches.

“ it's like your pussy begging me to breed you…”

“ what…w-what is it ? ” you were too innocent to know those kinds of things.

you had the face and the attitude of an angel, too perfect, too pure, too delicate. “ maybe, it's better to show you, pumpkin. with that, you will be more able to learn the lesson and don't make me mad again. ”

“ what ? ” you gasped. you felt giddy but at the same time, curious.

“ m’ gonna make you so dirty, angel. tonight, you will lose your wings and purity for me. ”

“ please, don't hurt me ! ”

“ oh sweetheart, you're the only one to hurt me, the only one to make me do those kind of things..."

tysm @ahhnini for the idea of psycho!stalker!rafe <33

[riizebabie444]

𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙛𝙪𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙥𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙮 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚

─── hey everyone, back with another pac. this one is about your future spouse and your family life with them. please remember to support with reblogs and feedback!

i'm currently going through a tough time financially and would appreciate if you considered booking a reading with me <3

─── picking your pile: take a deep breath and allow your soul to centre itself. when you feel your mind balanced and cleared, allow yourself to be drawn to an image. your eyes may gravitate to one, or you may close your eyes and feel which image is calling out.

─── be sure to check out my other readings and don’t forget to share and give feedback. disclaimer: all readings done are for entertainment only. please do not use my tarot readings as a replacement for legitimate advice.

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pile one

who is your future spouse?

with the hermit and the queen of swords, i see your future spouse being an introverted person, they like to spend a lot of time alone. perhaps this is because of past relationships that made them prefer to be alone, but i also see a case where they just like being alone because they would rather have zero connections that put up with bullshit people. they trust their inner guidance and don't force themselves to be around people that don't add value to their lives.

in that sense, they say it how it is. if they're not happy about something, they'll make it clear. they are perceptive and hate when others have hidden agendas or sly intentions. they can see right through it. they're a quick thinker, intellectual and emotionally intelligent. but sometimes a bit to harsh and strict with both themselves and others. they can be judgemental sometimes. however, they are a wise person who cuts through the noise. they see the truth easily.

how will they love you?

with two of pentacles and eight of pentacles, they seem like a practical lover. they seem like more of a traditional lover too. not necessarily in the way that they will fulfil traditional gender roles in a relationship, but in the sense that they seek balance above all else. they want to be on equal grounds with someone, and understand a relationship and love in general takes a lot of work. so they will fulfil the role in the relationship that you both expect of them, and they also expect the same from you.

they will work hard to meet your standards, so you will also need to work hard to meet their standards. they show their love with equality, equal effort, equal treatment. for most of you guys, this doesn't mean equality with money etc, like splitting the date costs. but more so about the effort you both put in. that being said, they will put in a lot of effort. relationships are an investment so you will definitely feel like they are investing in you by maybe spending money on you, spending time with you, sharing things with each other. they don't love for what they can gain, they love for what they can share with you.

while you are dating, i do not think they are the most romantic person. they are more practical than romantic but that doesn't mean the feeling aren't there. they just express their love in different ways because that is how the circumstances they've experienced has shaped them. i do see they have big love for you and they try really hard to show it, but it won't always be in the ways you want or expect.

family life with your spouse

with knight of cups and justice, family life however does seem more romantic. i think living together and having a domestic life together will definitely change how they express their love. they will be more obvious with their feelings and needs for you, they will adapt and express their love in the ways you like. i'm seeing more romance and grand gestures which they may not have understood prior to marriage. but after marriage and having a family, they understand it better and will show you. they will be a lot more emotional also.

i see they will still be practical. they could be a bit strict about routines, especially with children. though, family life will open up both of your emotions as there is so much to explore with a family. i see it being very chill and peaceful, some conflicts here and there but honestly, family life seems nice. it will be fair and equal. you will both contribute to the home fairly, they will recognise when either one of you is doing too much or not doing enough, and then they will work to balance it out. i see fair treatment for all children, like no favouritism or double standards. i see a lot of accountability and responsibility. family life seems so mature but in a good way.

pile two

who is your future spouse?

with ten of wands and justice, they seem like a burdened person. they have experienced a whole lot in their lives. they are someone who is afraid of being judged, they might deal with anxiety, but they try not to show it. they are someone who bottles feelings up instead of sharing them. they may be dealing with struggles when you meet them, but overall, they are talented and hard-working. but may sometimes work too hard and burn themselves out.

they have a lot integrity though. if they say they're gonna do something, they will. this could also indicate they have a hard time saying no so they often end up having too much to do which leads to them feelings overwhelmed and exhausted. honestly, your spouse seems like a bit of a mess, they need more balance in their lives. i think they're prone to escapism. i'm supposed to be getting positive messages but with this pile, their messy energy is strong. they have good morals, they won't ever do something they know is inherently bad. they are law-abiding, and maybe follow the rules too strictly. but they are also a lover of simplicity. simple is beautiful to them, and they pay attention to details.

how will they love you?

with the knight of pentacles and wheel of fortune, i think your spouse meeting you is a pivotal point in their life. like they will experience so much clarity in your journey together, and i'm seeing it can help them to change their ways. naturally, they are a good planner so they will love planning things for you. for examples, planning nice dates that fit your taste exactly or planning surprise gifts for you. they'll take notice of all the things you like and don't like, everything they learn about you will be stored in their brain for future reference. they will be hard working when you are with them, in their job, with their family, in your relationship. this energy is different to their overall energy, so i'm seeing they will really change when meeting you or prior to meeting you. they will start to get their life in order.

they will be so kind and loving, they won't let anyone treat you bad. they will also try to deter you from bad decisions also. i mentioned already they are strict with morals, so if you try to do something they don't view as good, they will try to stop you. not in a way to control you but to show you how to be the better person and not stooping to low levels. like, of course they will defend you. but say if you're just being petty or bitter and it is influencing your decision, they will guide you to the better path. they will love you by constantly reminding you how they think destiny brought you together. they will rejoice in your successes and share their own with you.

family life with your spouse

with the hermit and the chariot, i see that you guys will be very private. i think after getting married, you guys might become recluses but it is just because you guys want to spend so much time together without anyone else bothering you. i think maybe you guys might move somewhere new to start your family so you might not know a lot of people, which can also explain your guys' privacy. i see so many late night talks throughout your lives together. you would not get bored of hearing each other talk. you would also help each other uncover your dark pasts and difficult emotions, and face them together.

i see you guys having a lot of willpower. if there's something you want to do as a couple or a family, you will do it. i see children for some of you and not children for others, so take it as it resonates. you will make decisions that will be in alignment with your values. as a family, i see a whole lot of determination. not letting outside influences get to you or your children. you guys would overcome anything. i see so much mundane, day to day domesticity, but also balanced out with exploration of the world. your family could have regular holidays to travel the world. you could have an active family also, like physically active but also just active in the community. if you have children, i see them being very goodhearted. you would raise them well.

pile three

who is your future spouse?

with the moon and ace of pentacles, i'm getting lucky girl/boy syndrome from your spouse. they feel so young-spirited, but they have also experienced a lot. i'm also seeing pretty privilege, so they would be very attractive, and perhaps it helps them to get the things they want in life. however, i think they are quite emotional, and they have a big imagination. they dream of big things, and bright and eventful future. and i think they are known for being caring and nurturing. they have a lot of empathy. but although they are emotional, i see them being quite practical too.

it seems like they're good with money, they don't have a lot of trouble finding good jobs. overall, you will think they are so lucky. security and stability is important to them though, so that's why they are happier and brighter when things go their way. they like to embrace new beginnings but they will always consider the risk. they might come off as careless and impulsive but honestly a lot of thought goes behind all of their actions. they don't do things for the sake of doing them, but rather to enrichen their lives with experiences. i see they may be into manifestation and even spirituality. they try to work on their limiting beliefs because they don't want to be the person holding themselves back. they may look very positive and extroverted, but deep down, they are sensitive and introspective.

how will they love you?

with the knight of wands and the well reversed, i see them being the one to approach you. they will bring opportunities to you, push you out of your comfort zone and help you move closer towards your own dreams. they will be so enthusiastic around you. you absolutely won't be worrying about whether they like you or not because they will show it. if they like you and want to be around you, you will know. and if they don't, then they will also make that clear. they wear their heart on their sleeves. i see them trying to be a bit manly though, whether this is a man or a woman. they will try to act like a macho man which they will enjoy, but just trust that they are also heartfelt and have big feelings even when they wear this mask approaching you.

they will be patient with you, but only to an extent. like, they hate the feeling of waiting for forever. they are excited about what is to come so they will be uncomfortable if you make them feel stuck in place or if you are stuck in the past. they will show their love by helping you overcome your past, helping you close the old chapters of your life before heading onto the new one. i'm seeing that their energy will not be cold or stagnant, though sometimes i see you are the one who makes the relationship feel that way. and they will show their love by not giving up on you, they will bring you along to better places even if they have to drag you. they hate seeing you hung up on the past.

family life with your spouse

with the ace of cups and five of swords reversed, i definitely see you both overcoming troubles from the past after marriage. family life is a new beginning for you both. you or them or both could be very excited for children, for having a home together. it feels almost dreamy when you guys live together. it feels like you both will blossom and thrive as a family, so many new experiences and emotions. romance will also increase. i see you will also meet so many new people, like family members or new friends. you will be surrounded by good people, your spouse will make sure of that and to get rid of anyone who treats you how you were treat in the past.

any conflicts you guys come across, i see you guys resolving them and moving forward stronger. some may just be minor so it is easy to move past them, but even the bigger conflicts, you will both work on them. you guys won't run away at the first sign of trouble, you will stick together even when you hate it and eventually it will turn out good again. there is a lot of compromise and communication. it's not always going to be easy but i see time and time again, you guys will get through it. this isn't the type of marriage and family you want to walk away from, it's the type you want to fight for. so every time, you will always move forward and create positive changes for each other and your children.

© riizebabie444 — all rights reserved. please do not copy, steal, repost or translate my readings on any site. any act of which will be classed as plagiarism.

[mononijikayu]

right people, wrong place — nanami kento.

“And what about us? Was I something you could just walk away from?” The question hung in the air between you, heavy and raw. For a moment, you thought you saw something flicker in his gaze—regret, maybe—but it vanished just as quickly. “I never wanted to hurt you, you know that.” he said quietly, almost like an admission of guilt. “But this was always going to be the cost.”

GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence!

WARNING/S: romance, fluff, angst, marriage separation, salvaging the marriage, nsfw, rated 18 and above, explicit content, kissing, car-fuck, making out, smut, fingering, p to v sex, orgasm, hurt/comfort, alcohol, crying, drunk, emotional, pining, happy ending, characters speaking in sexual innuendo, depiction of breakdown of a marriage, depiction of alcoholic beverages, depiction of getting drunk, depiction of sexual acts, depiction of sexual tension, depiction of naked bodies, mention of sexual euphemisms, depiction of explicit sexual content, sorcerer! nanami, non-sorcerer! reader;

WORD COUNT: 7.7k words.

NOTE: finally!!! im putting out this chapter on my birthday which is crazy but i feel like putting it out on my birthday shows how much i really love nanami. i really wondered a lot how to do this because i don't think nanami's the sort of person who would end up hurting his lover/partner like this. but hm, i suppose it works out in the end!!! anyway, i hope you guys enjoy this a lot like i did!!! i love you all <3

masterlist

kinktober 2024 - kayu's version

if you want to, tip! <3

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IN YOUR YEARS LIVING, YOU’D NEVER THOUGHT THIS WOULD HAPPEN. You never thought you would find yourself in this position, but sometimes marriages just don't last. It’s been a while since your husband, Nanami Kento, and you became estranged. His constant absence, wrapped up in his work as a sorcerer, eventually took precedence over your marriage. 

At first, you understood, even tried to be patient. But over time, the long hours, missed moments, and growing distance became too much to bear. You found yourself frustrated, feeling as though you were competing with a world you couldn’t fully understand or be a part of.

Slowly, that frustration turned into resentment. Despite your efforts to keep things together, the silence between you grew louder. Eventually, the separation felt inevitable. Now, standing on the other side of it, you reflect on the painful truth: sometimes love isn't enough when life pulls you in different directions.

You sighed, staring at the empty side of the bed where Kento used to sleep. The memories of better days flickered in your mind, but they felt distant, like they belonged to someone else’s life. The silence of your apartment was deafening, broken only by the occasional sound of the outside world. 

“Did you ever regret it?” you whispered, almost as if speaking to the ghost of your past, hoping for an answer you knew wouldn’t come. “Did you ever think… maybe I was worth staying for?”

You shook your head, frustrated with yourself for even asking the question. It wasn’t fair to him. You knew how much responsibility weighed on Kento's shoulders. Being a sorcerer wasn’t just a job; it was a duty. But sometimes, you wished he would have chosen you, just once, over the weight of the world.

Your minds rushed to those memories again. That night when he left the house. You looked as he packed everything he could carry. His clothes, his books… small pieces of a life you once shared now reduced to what he could fit into a suitcase. The silence between you stretched, the weight of unspoken words lingering in the air, almost suffocating.

“Is this really it, then?” you finally asked, your voice barely above a whisper. It was a question that had hung in the back of your mind for months, but now, with him standing here, packing the last remnants of your life together, it felt real. Permanent.

Kento paused, his hand resting on one of his neatly folded shirts. He didn’t look at you when he spoke. “I don’t know.”

“That’s all you can say? After so many years?.....Kento....this is…” you replied, your voice cracking despite your best effort to keep it steady. “Not even a reason?”

His shoulders tensed at your words, but he still didn’t turn around. “If I say something, it would be a fight and then that fight would hurt you and I again. Do you really want that?”

“No, I don’t.” you shot back, the frustration and hurt bubbling to the surface. “But maybe it should. Because then I would know if it actually mattered. Because it didn’t feel like it mattered, Kento. It felt like I was always second place to your work, to the missions, to everything else.”

He finally turned to face you, his expression unreadable but the exhaustion in his eyes undeniable. “I never wanted it to be like this. But you knew what I was from the beginning. Being a sorcerer… it’s not something you can just walk away from.”

“And what about us? Was I something you could just walk away from?”

The question hung in the air between you, heavy and raw. For a moment, you thought you saw something flicker in his gaze—regret, maybe—but it vanished just as quickly.

“I never wanted to hurt you, you know that.” he said quietly, almost like an admission of guilt. “But this was always going to be the cost.”

You laughed bitterly, the sound harsh even to your own ears. “So that’s it? We were just collateral damage to your sense of duty?”

Kento didn’t answer right away. Instead, he closed the suitcase with a soft click, the finality of it settling like a stone in your chest. “I thought I could do both. I thought I could be there for you and still do what needed to be done. But I was wrong.”

The silence that followed was deafening. You stared at him, waiting for something more—an apology, a plea, anything. But all you got was that same calm, distant resolve that had driven you apart in the first place.

He picked up the suitcase, his fingers tightening around the handle. “Goodbye.”

And just like that, he was gone. The door clicked shut behind him, and the emptiness of the apartment swallowed you whole. You stood there, staring at the spot where he had been, feeling the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on you. It was over.

But somehow, it still didn’t feel like closure.

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EVERYTHING THAT CAME AFTER WAS HARD. In the days that followed, the silence in your apartment became both a comfort and a curse. It was quiet—almost too quiet—but for the first time in what felt like forever, the suffocating weight of uncertainty was gone.

Kento was gone, too. But in a way, that absence, painful as it was, felt like a step toward something else. Healing, maybe. And it didn’t help, how empty the rooms were. Half of his belongings were gone and packed up when you weren’t in the apartment.

It was slow at first. You’d wake up some mornings expecting him to be there, just a shadow of his presence lingering in the air. You’d make coffee for two out of habit, only to pour the second cup down the sink. Little reminders of him still clung to the edges of your life, and each one was like a small tug at the thread of your resolve.

But as the weeks turned into months, you started to piece yourself back together. You learned how to be alone without feeling lonely, how to fill the spaces he left behind with your own life. You started to find joy in the little things again—quiet mornings with a book, walks in the park, laughing with friends who had long been neglected while you tried to hold onto something that was already slipping away.

Still, there were moments, late at night when the world went still, that the ache of missing him crept back in. It was like a dull, persistent pain—manageable, but never quite gone. You’d find yourself lying awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering what he was doing, if he was thinking of you, too. If he ever would come back and say that he regrets walking away.

Because the truth was, you still loved him. Deeply. And that was the hardest part. No matter how much you tried to move forward, to heal, the love you had for Nanami Kento never fully disappeared. It lingered, bittersweet and aching, tucked into the corners of your heart.

Some nights, you found yourself replaying those last moments with him—the way he stood in the doorway, his back turned to you, the finality of his goodbye. You couldn’t help but wonder if things could have been different. If you had fought harder, if he had tried just a little more. But those thoughts always led to the same conclusion: no matter how much you loved him, love wasn’t enough to fix what had broken between you.

And yet, despite everything, there was still a part of you that wanted him back. It was foolish, you knew that. But the heart rarely listens to reason. You missed the way he made you feel safe, even when everything else in your world felt uncertain. You missed the way he’d brush his fingers through your hair absentmindedly while reading or the quiet moments where words weren’t needed because you both just… understood.

But loving him came with a cost, one you couldn’t ignore. You knew that being with him meant sharing him with a world that constantly demanded more of him than you could ever give. It meant always being second place, always waiting for him to come home, always wondering if this time would be the last.

You weren’t sure if you could live like that again.

It was hard, knowing that despite how much better you were feeling, the part of you that still longed for him wasn’t ready to let go. You tried to distract yourself—work, hobbies, anything to keep your mind from drifting back to him. But every now and then, you’d catch a glimpse of something that reminded you of him—a certain tie in a shop window, a scent in the air—and the pang of longing would hit you all over again.

One evening, after a particularly long day, you found yourself standing at the edge of your balcony, staring out at the sunset. The sky was painted in hues of gold and pink, the world so quiet and still that it almost felt like a dream. For a brief moment, you let yourself imagine what it would be like if he were here beside you. If, somehow, you could make it work. If the love you had was enough to outweigh everything else.

But as the colors faded and dusk settled in, you realized something—wanting him, loving him, would always be part of you. But so would the pain. And maybe, just maybe, the best thing you could do was let both of those things exist without trying to fix them. To let the love you still had for him be a memory, something you carried with you but didn’t let define you anymore.

It was hard. But you were learning that sometimes, healing isn’t about forgetting the past. It’s about accepting it and finding a way to move forward anyway. Even if part of you will always wish things had been different.

You sighed, staring at the empty side of the bed where Nanami used to sleep. The memories of better days flickered in your mind, but they felt distant, like they belonged to someone else’s life. The silence of your apartment was deafening, broken only by the occasional sound of the outside world.

“Did you ever regret it?” you whispered, almost as if speaking to the ghost of your past, hoping for an answer you knew wouldn’t come. “Did you ever think… maybe I was worth staying for?”

You shook your head, frustrated with yourself for even asking the question. It wasn’t fair to him. You knew how much responsibility weighed on Nanami's shoulders. Being a sorcerer wasn’t just a job; it was a duty. But sometimes, you wished he would have chosen you, just once, over the weight of the world.

The doorbell rang, snapping you out of your thoughts. For a moment, your heart raced—an absurd part of you hoped it was him. But you quickly brushed the thought aside. That chapter was closed. Or so you tried to convince yourself.

When you opened the door, there he stood—Nanami Kento.

“I came to pick up the rest of my things.” he said, his voice low and steady, as if the weight of the words didn't matter. But they did. Every syllable felt like a punch to your chest.

You nodded, stepping aside to let him in, though the sight of him in the apartment again felt like a knife twisting in an old wound. He walked past you without another word, heading to what used to be your shared bedroom. It was strange—after all the time that had passed, he still moved like he belonged here, like nothing had changed. But everything had.

You followed him, your footsteps quiet as you watched him start gathering his things. His clothes, his books… small pieces of a life you once shared now reduced to what he could fit into a suitcase. The silence between you stretched, the weight of unspoken words lingering in the air, almost suffocating.

“This is it, huh?” you finally asked, your voice barely above a whisper. It was a question that had hung in the back of your mind for months, but now, with him standing here, packing the last remnants of your life together, it felt real. Permanent. “Is….is this what’s left?”

Kento paused, his hand resting on one of his neatly folded shirts. He didn’t look at you when he spoke. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Anything, everything.” you replied, your voice cracking despite your best effort to keep it steady. “I just want to know if any of it ever mattered to you.”

His shoulders tensed at your words, but he still didn’t turn around. “You know it did. You matter to me. More than you know.”

“Did I?” you shot back, the frustration and hurt bubbling to the surface. “Because why have I never felt it? When will I feel it?”

He finally turned to face you, his expression unreadable but the exhaustion in his eyes undeniable. “I showed you everything I could. I gave you everything I could. Was that never going to be enough for you?”

“And what about us? Was I something you could just walk away from?”

The question hung in the air between you, heavy and raw. For a moment, you thought you saw something flicker in his gaze—regret, maybe—but it vanished just as quickly.Nanami didn’t answer right away. Instead, he closed the box with a soft touch, the finality of it settling like a stone in your chest. 

“I thought I could do both. I thought I could be there for you and still do what needed to be done. But I was wrong.”

The silence that followed was deafening. You stared at him, waiting for something more—an apology, a plea, anything. But all you got was that same calm, distant resolve that had driven you apart in the first place.

He picked up the rest of his belongings, his fingers tightening around the handle. “I have to go.”

And just like that, he was gone. The door clicked shut behind him, and the emptiness of the apartment swallowed you whole. You stood there, staring at the spot where he had been, feeling the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on you. It was over.

But somehow, it still didn’t feel like closure.

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YOU DIDN’T EAT MUCH IN THE PAST FEW DAYS. But that was to be expected. You couldn’t eat in the place where you had so many memories. Yet you were feeling unwell as time went on and so slowly, gently, patiently — you tried to be good to yourself. Tried to be understanding. Going through separation, this suffering, it was never going to be easy.

The silence in your apartment became both a comfort and a curse. It was quiet—almost too quiet—but for the first time in what felt like forever, the suffocating weight of uncertainty was gone.

The emptiness felt different now. It wasn't just about loss or absence; it was about space—space to breathe, to think, to feel without the constant dread lurking in every corner. Still, the quiet held an echo of everything you had left behind, and that made moving forward all the more difficult.

But as the weeks turned into months, you started to piece yourself back together. You learned how to be alone without feeling lonely, how to fill the spaces he left behind with your own life.

You started to find joy in the little things again—quiet mornings with a book, walks in the park, laughing with friends who had long been neglected while you tried to hold onto something that was already slipping away.

Still, there were moments, late at night when the world went still and you’re watching television alone by yourself — you could feel that the ache of missing him crept back in.

It was like a dull, persistent pain—manageable, but never quite gone. You’d find yourself lying awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering what he was doing, if he was thinking of you, too. If he ever regretted walking away. Or if he missed you just as much as you did.

Because the truth was, you still loved him. Deeply. And that was the hardest part. No matter how much you tried to move forward, to heal, the love you had for Nanami Kento never fully disappeared. It lingered, bittersweet and aching, tucked into the corners of your heart. And perhaps, maybe it will always be like this.

But you had to move on. Life wasn’t going to wait for you to get better, to be better. It demanded that you keep going, even when you weren’t sure how to, even when the ghost of what you had still weighed heavy on your soul.

So, you kept going, step by step. Some days were easier than others, filled with the distractions of work, the warmth of sunlight on your skin, and conversations that pulled you out of your own head. Other days were harder—when memories of him resurfaced without warning, when a familiar scent or an old song hit you with the force of a tidal wave, threatening to drown you in nostalgia.

But you had learned by now how to weather those moments. You’d remind yourself that healing wasn’t linear, that some days you would falter, and that was okay. You had to let yourself feel the sadness, the longing, without letting it consume you.

And in time, you began to see the future more clearly, not just as a continuation of what you lost but as something entirely new. You began to make plans for yourself, not the version of you that existed with him but the person you were becoming on your own. You started to imagine new possibilities—new experiences, new places, and maybe even, eventually, new love.

But for now, it was enough to simply live. To wake up each morning with the quiet acceptance that the pain would fade, slowly, until it was just another part of you, like a scar that healed over time. And though Nanami Kento would always hold a piece of your heart, you knew that piece was no longer all you had. There was more to you, more to your life, and you would find it, one day at a time.

And maybe, tonight was just one of those nights you didn’t plan. Tonight was one more night where you tried to forget. It was just a spontaneous meeting with the friends you made because of your estranged husband.

In a way, you think that Shoko and Utahime, were the only people who had really been there for you throughout this entire mess. You met up at a quiet bar tucked away in a corner of the city, a place that felt far removed from the chaos of sorcery and everything that came with it.

Shoko sat across from you, her usual laid-back demeanor a source of steady comfort, while Utahime leaned in, her voice soft and warm, coaxing you into laughter with her lighthearted banter. The night had started out innocent enough—a few drinks, some stories, and shared frustrations. But as the alcohol flowed, so did your emotions.

“Honestly.” you groaned, swirling your drink before downing it, “I don’t even know what I miss more—him, or the idea of what we could’ve been if his work didn’t always come first.”

Shoko raised her glass, giving you a sympathetic smile. “It’s never easy, is it? Being with someone like him. The duty comes first. Always.”

Utahime nodded, her eyes full of understanding. “But that doesn’t make what you feel any less valid. You loved him. That doesn’t just disappear.”

The alcohol in your system made you bolder, more honest than you’d been in a while. You leaned forward, placing your elbows on the table, and slurred slightly, “It’s not fair, you know? I tried, I really did. But how long am I supposed to wait? How many nights am I supposed to spend alone, wondering if he’s even coming back?”

Shoko reached across the table and squeezed your hand gently. “You’re not supposed to wait forever. You deserve more than that.”

But instead of finding solace in her words, you found yourself feeling more emotional, the weight of everything you’d been holding back finally cracking open under the influence of too much alcohol. A tear slipped down your cheek, and before you could stop it, you were sobbing into your hands, overwhelmed by a mix of heartache and frustration.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry!” Utahime said softly, sliding into the seat beside you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “You’re doing great. This is just… part of the process.”

Shoko, usually so calm and collected, looked a little more concerned than usual. “Okay, I think it’s time to slow down on the drinks, girlie.” she said, gently pulling your glass away from you.

But you were too far gone to care. The mix of pain, regret, and alcohol had you in a place where you didn’t want to think anymore—you just wanted to feel something, anything other than the ache of missing him.

You let out a half-laugh, half-sob and raised your hands in the air dramatically. “I’m a mess! A total mess! And you know what? I miss him. I still miss him even after everything!”

Utahime tried to keep you grounded, but your emotions were all over the place. “We know. We get it. Just breathe.”

Shoko sighed, reaching for her phone. “I think we might need backup here.”

You were too busy giggling uncontrollably to notice her dialing a number, the alcohol buzzing in your veins, making you feel invincible, heartbroken, and foolish all at once.

“I’m calling Nanami.” Shoko said, her voice firm as she stepped away to speak quietly into the phone.

The name hit you like a punch in the chest, and suddenly, the laughter was gone, replaced by a pit of regret. “Wait… Shoko, no. Don’t… don’t call him.” you mumbled, slumping against the table.

But it was too late.

Half an hour later, as the bar started to empty out and the world around you became a blurry haze, you felt a familiar presence. Nanami Kento stood at the entrance, his expression unreadable, though his posture was tense, like he wasn’t sure what to expect. He scanned the room until his eyes landed on you—wild-eyed and completely drunk, your face flushed from crying and too many drinks.

Shoko and Utahime exchanged a glance as Nanami walked over to the table. “She… might’ve had a bit too much tonight, you know?” Utahime said sheepishly, standing up to give him space.

Nanami didn’t say anything at first. He just looked at you—really looked at you, like he was seeing you for the first time in months. You could see the subtle flicker of concern in his eyes, even if his face remained calm, composed.

You, on the other hand, were a mess. “Kento….” you slurred, your voice thick with emotion. “Why did you come?”

He crouched down beside you, his voice low but steady. “Shoko called me.”

You frowned, trying to process that. “You didn’t have to.”

“I know.”

For a moment, you both just stared at each other, the air between you heavy with everything left unsaid. You wanted to say so many things—to tell him how much you missed him, how much it hurt to love him, but your thoughts were too muddled, and the alcohol made everything feel distant and surreal.

Nanami sighed softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Let’s get you home.”

Too tired and drunk to argue, you leaned into his touch, letting him guide you out of the bar. As he helped you into the passenger seat of his car, you felt a pang of sadness wash over you. Even in this state, the warmth of his presence made you remember why you had fallen in love with him in the first place.

But as the car started and the city lights blurred by, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was all you’d ever be to him now—a fleeting responsibility, a problem to fix.

Through heavy-lidded eyes, you glanced over at him, your voice barely above a whisper. “Do you still care, Kento?”

For the first time in a long while, you saw a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. “Of course I care.” he said quietly, almost like it hurt to admit it. “I always have….I always will.”

But as the darkness of the night pulled you under, you couldn’t help but think that maybe caring just wasn’t enough.

The drive was quiet, the hum of the engine and the distant noise of the city filling the silence between you and Nanami. You leaned your head against the window, feeling the cool glass against your flushed skin, the alcohol still buzzing faintly in your veins. Everything felt muted, distant, as if you were floating just outside yourself, watching the scene unfold from afar.

Nanami’s presence was steady, calm as always, but there was something different about it tonight—something almost tender in the way he glanced over at you every few moments, checking to see if you were okay. He was a man of few words, but the weight of everything left unsaid between you felt heavy in the small space of the car.

You closed your eyes, letting the rhythmic motion of the car lull you into a state somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. Your thoughts drifted in and out, a hazy mix of memories and half-formed feelings. The pain of your separation, the love you still held for him, the impossible wish that things could’ve been different.

“Do you need anything?” His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it, something restrained.

You shook your head, trying to gather your thoughts through the alcohol fog, but the room spun, and you could feel the tears welling up again, unbidden and unwelcome. The frustration, the love, the hurt—all of it crashed over you at once, too heavy to hold in any longer.

“I miss you, Kento.” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “But I just…..I don’t want to miss you anymore.”

He didn’t respond right away, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, afraid of what you might see in his eyes. Afraid of the truth you already knew—that no matter how much you wanted him, how much you loved him, some things were just too broken to fix. Your face contorted in distress as you felt like you were going to hurl.

Kento stopped the car on a quiet side of the road and took a breath. He moved towards your side of the vehicle. He opened the door and brushed his hands on your back as though to soothe you. But nothing came out of you. Instead, you were just hiccupping. Tears were falling down your face by this point, as your eyes met his.

Nanami Kento sighed softly, kneeling down in front of you. He reached out, brushing a tear from your cheek with the back of his hand, his touch gentle, hesitant. “You shouldn’t have to feel like this about me, about everything.” he murmured, his voice low, filled with regret. “You shouldn’t let this hurt you. Not anymore—”

“But you did.” you cut him off, your voice cracking. “Every time you left, every time you put your work first… it felt like I didn’t matter.”

He bowed his head, the weight of your words sinking into him. “I know.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, your hands trembling as you clutched the fabric of the couch beneath you. “I loved you, Kento. I still love you. But I don’t know if I can keep doing this… if I can keep feeling like I’m waiting for something that will never come.”

He lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours, and for the first time in a long while, you saw something break in his calm façade. “I never wanted you to wait. But I didn’t know how to stop. I didn’t know….I didn’t know how to stop saving people.”

The vulnerability in his voice, the raw honesty, made your heart ache even more. You could see it now—his struggle, his conflict between the duty he felt as a sorcerer and the love he had for you. But that didn’t change the fact that you had spent so long feeling alone, abandoned in a relationship that demanded more from you than you could give.

“Why did you come tonight?” you asked, your voice shaky, desperate for answers. “Why didn’t you just leave me there?”

Nanami was quiet for a moment, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Because I couldn’t. No matter how much I tell myself it’s better for you if I stay away… I can’t stop caring about you. Nor could I just….Nor could I just leave you like that. You don’t need to be alone, not like this.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. It was the truth you had always known, deep down—that he loved you, that he cared. But caring wasn’t enough to bridge the gap between the life he led and the one you needed. And that was the most painful part.

“I don’t know how to stop loving you.” you admitted, tears streaming down your face now, unrestrained. “But I also don’t know how to keep living like this. I don’t want to keep living like this.”

Nanami looked at you then, his expression conflicted, torn between his duty and the love he had for you. “I wish I could give you more. I wish I could be what you need.”

His honesty only made the hurt deeper, and you choked back a sob, turning your face away from him. “I wish that too, Kento. But wishing doesn’t make it real.”

For a long moment, neither of you said anything, the silence heavy and suffocating. Nanami stood, his movements slow, deliberate. He walked to the door, pausing with his hand on the handle.

“If you ever need me.” he said quietly, his back to you, “I’ll be there. Always. No matter what. I…I’m telling you the truth.”

His voice was low, a smooth, steady rumble that sent shivers down your spine. The way his fingers touched your skin, soft yet firm, made your breath catch in your throat. You hated how even now, after everything, he still had this effect on you. Your body, your heart—they responded to him instinctively, as if drawn to him by some invisible force you couldn’t control.

Your eyes met his, those deep, unwavering eyes that had always been so hard to read. Dark, focused, filled with an intensity that both excited and terrified you. He tilted his head slightly, waiting for your answer, his thumb brushing lightly against your lower lip. The heat between you was palpable, electric, pulling you closer despite the distance you had tried so hard to create between your lives.

But it wasn’t just lust. It was the ache of wanting something you knew you could never fully have.

“I—” You swallowed hard, your voice barely a whisper as you fought to find the words. “I don’t know what I want anymore.”

It was the truth. You were caught between desire and heartbreak, between the pull of your body and the ache in your chest.

Nanami’s gaze softened slightly, though his hand remained firm against your chin. “You can always tell me. Even if you don’t know, I’m here to listen.”

His lips were inches from yours now, and your body reacted before your mind could catch up. Your breath hitched, and you felt the throbbing in your core intensify, the need rising within you. But it wasn’t just physical—it was the need to feel close to him again, to bridge the distance between you, if only for a moment.

His thumb grazed your lip again, this time slower, more deliberate. “Tell me what you need.” he whispered, his voice like silk, coaxing you to let go of everything you were holding back.

Your heart pounded in your chest as your eyes fluttered shut for just a second, your resolve slipping away. You wanted him—needed him—but the weight of everything between you still clung to the edges of your mind.

“I want…” you began, your voice trembling as you opened your eyes to meet him once more. “I want you. But I don't want you.”

There it was. The painful truth, laid bare between you.

Nanami’s expression didn’t change, but you could see the flicker of something in his eyes—regret, perhaps, or maybe understanding. He leaned in closer, his forehead nearly touching yours, his breath warm against your skin.

“I know.” he said softly. “And I’m sorry.”

But even as he apologized, his hand slid down from your chin to the curve of your neck, his fingers tracing a slow, deliberate path that sent waves of heat coursing through your body. You inhaled sharply, your resolve crumbling further with every second that passed.

He always knew how to touch you, how to make you forget the pain, the doubts, the distance. It was intoxicating, the way he could pull you in without even trying, and despite everything, you couldn’t help but lean into it. Into him.

His lips hovered over yours, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him, but he didn’t close the gap. He never did—he always waited for you to make the choice, to cross that line. He gave you control, even when it felt like you had none.

“What do you want?” he asked again, his voice barely more than a breath as his hand settled at the base of your neck, fingers brushing the sensitive skin there.

You could feel the tension coiling in your body, the way your heart raced, the way every nerve seemed to be on fire. You wanted to push him away, to tell him that this wasn’t right, that you couldn’t keep doing this. But the pull of him was too strong, and your body betrayed you.

“I want…...” The words caught in your throat, your breath shaky, your lips barely an inch from his. “I want you to make me forget.”

And in that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the pain, not the past, not the uncertainty of what the future held. All that mattered was the feel of his hand on your skin, the way his eyes never left yours, the way his presence grounded you and made you feel alive all at once.

Nanami’s lips finally brushed against yours, a soft, tentative kiss that sent a shock of electricity through your body. You responded instinctively, pressing into him, the taste of him familiar and yet still enough to set your senses ablaze.

His other hand slid down your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened, slow and deliberate, like he was savoring every second of it. You moaned softly into his mouth, your body melting against him, your mind blissfully empty of everything except him.

For just this moment, you let yourself forget. Forget the hurt, the separation, the longing that had been eating at you for months. Right now, all that existed was the heat between you, the way his hands moved over your body, the way his lips claimed yours with a tenderness that both healed and hurt.

And for the first time in a long while, you let yourself fall into the moment, into him, knowing that tomorrow would bring all the same questions and heartache. But for tonight, you let yourself be with him, no matter how fleeting it might be.

The kiss lingered, both tender and desperate, a blend of longing and unresolved emotions that seemed to pulse between you. Nanami’s hands roamed your body with a careful intensity, as if he were trying to memorize every curve, every shiver that ran through you. His touch was both familiar and achingly new, a reminder of what you once had and what you had been missing.

You clung to him, your hands tangled in his shirt, pulling him closer as if you could erase the months of separation with just this physical connection. Every touch, every caress felt like a balm to the wound that had been left open for so long.

But even as the moment enveloped you, reality kept its sharp edge. Every kiss, every touch was a reminder of the distance that had come between you, the reasons you’d tried so hard to move on. The passion that ignited between you was a bitter-sweet symphony, playing a melody of both desire and regret.

Nanami broke the kiss, his breathing ragged, his forehead resting against yours. He looked into your eyes with a mixture of yearning and sadness, the weight of everything unsaid pressing heavily between you.

“I’m so sorry.” he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath. “For everything.”

You could only nod, your throat tight, your heart aching at the sincerity in his voice. “I know.” you managed to say, your voice trembling. “I know.”

He cupped your face gently, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had silently fallen. “You mean everything to me, you know?” he said softly, his gaze unwavering. “But I know I can’t just come back and expect everything to be okay.”

You nodded again, tears blurring your vision as you tried to process the complexity of the moment. The feelings between you were still raw, unhealed, and the reality of your situation pressed down hard on both of you. You wanted to hold onto him, to keep him close, but the pain of the past and the uncertainty of the future loomed large.

Kento's massivehands slowly slid from your face to your shoulders, his touch grounding and reassuring. “We can’t go back to how we were.” he said softly, a note of resignation in his voice. “I can’t promise you that everything will be perfect.”

You took a shaky breath, trying to find your voice amidst the whirlwind of emotions. “I don’t expect perfection,” you said, your voice cracking. “I just… I just want to know that you still care, that there’s still something left between us.”

He looked at you with a deep sadness in his eyes, as if he were trying to convey all the things he couldn’t put into words. “I care,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “More than you know. But we both need to heal, to figure out what’s next. I can’t keep coming and going, leaving you with more pain.”

You swallowed hard, trying to reconcile his words with the longing you still felt. “What happens now?” you asked softly, feeling the weight of the question hanging in the air.

Nanami sighed, pulling you into a gentle embrace. “I don’t know.” he admitted.

“Me neither.” You whisper to him as your eyes echoed to him and narrowed. “But I want you to love me. Tonight. Right now.”

“But—”

You kissed him, hungry and passionate. You pull at his jaw, wanting him closer than ever before. You want him near. You want him enveloping you. As though an embrace that would lock you away in his warmth for the rest of your lives. It was as though the fire of young love reawakened after a long hibernation. And you want more than anything this spring, this warmth of spring. His love.

Kento hesitates for a moment, his gaze heavy with concern and desire, before he finally whispers, "Are you sure?"

You nod, breathless, your hands trembling as you reach for him. "I'm sure, Kento. I want you… I've always wanted you."

His resolve falters, and he leans forward, capturing your lips again with a fervor that sends a jolt of electricity through your body. His hands slide over your back, pulling you closer, and you feel the heat of his body pressing against you. He deepens the kiss, his tongue tracing your lips, coaxing you open to taste him, to feel him.

When he finally breaks the kiss, you're both panting, your breaths mingling in the confined space of the car. There's a moment where neither of you speaks, just staring at each other, the weight of your shared desire hanging in the air.

Kento's hand moves between your legs, his fingers grazing over the fabric of your clothes, and you shiver at the contact. He’s gentle at first, almost hesitant, but when he sees the way your body responds, a low growl escapes his throat. He’s lost in the moment, his mouth descending to taste you, his tongue working deftly to unravel every ounce of pleasure he can from you.

You gasp, your back arching against the seat as his tongue dances over your most sensitive parts, his spit mixing with your own arousal. His hands grip your thighs, holding you in place as he devours you like a man starved, each stroke and flick of his tongue pushing you closer to the edge.

When you finally break, a cry tearing from your throat, he doesn’t hesitate. He lifts you easily, pulling you onto his lap, his lips finding yours again in a messy, desperate kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips, the tang of your desire mingling with his own.

He fumbles with his pants, freeing himself from the constraints, and you feel the heat of him, hard and ready, pressing against you. Your eyes meet, and for a moment, there’s a silent understanding — a shared want that transcends words.

With a quiet groan, he grips your hips, guiding you over him, his breath catching as he finally pushes inside. You both gasp, a moan escaping your lips as he fills you completely, your bodies moving in a rhythm that feels as natural as breathing. He clings to you, his movements becoming more urgent, more desperate, and you cling back just as fiercely, not wanting this moment to end.

“I won't stop anymore." he murmurs, his voice a low rumble against your ear, and you know he means it — neither of you want to stop.

Kento’s words hang heavy in the air, igniting something primal within you. You shift your hips, pressing down harder, taking him deeper, and a guttural sound escapes his lips, his hands digging into your waist as if he’s afraid you might disappear.

He starts moving, thrusting up into you with a roughness that takes your breath away. You hold onto his shoulders for balance, your nails digging into his skin, each thrust sending ripples of pleasure through your body.

You couldn't help but groan over and over with every sensual movement, the windows fogging up as the air grows thick with your mingled breaths and moans.

Kento’s mouth is everywhere — on your neck, your collarbone, your breasts. His lips are hot, leaving trails of fire across your skin. He sucks and nips, marking you as his.

And it makes you gasp, makes you arch closer, needing more, craving everything he can give you. Your body moves on instinct, rolling your hips against him, each motion driving him deeper until you feel like you can’t take it anymore.

“More, more….Oh—” you whisper, a plea escaping your lips. He groans in response, tightening his grip on you, his hips slamming into yours with a desperate rhythm.

He shifts, one hand sliding down between your bodies, his fingers finding your sensitive nub. He circles it, presses down, and you cry out, your body clenching around him as the sensations intensify, as every nerve feels like it's on fire.

The sound of skin against skin fills the car, mingling with the soft creak of leather and the panting breaths escaping both of you.

Kento’s pace quickens, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more urgent. “God, you feel so good.” he murmurs, his voice ragged, almost broken.

He leans in, his forehead pressing against yours, his eyes searching yours for something — maybe reassurance, maybe something deeper.

"Tell me you want this." he breathes, his thumb circling faster.

“I want it,” you gasp, your voice trembling with need. “I want you, Kento… don't stop, please…”

That seems to be all he needs. He growls low in his throat, his grip tightening as he thrusts into you with renewed fervor, each movement harder, deeper, pushing you both to the edge of oblivion. Your hands clutch his hair, pulling him closer as you feel the coil tightening in your belly, threatening to snap.

He shifts again, angling his hips to hit that perfect spot inside you, and you scream, the sound raw and needy, your body trembling. You can feel the heat pooling, feel the tension building to an unbearable point.

He leans back slightly, watching you with hooded eyes, and the sight of him — pupils blown wide, lips parted, sweat slicking his skin — sends a new wave of desire crashing through you.

“Come for me, baby.” he commands, his voice a gravelly whisper. “Let me feel you.”

The words push you over the edge, your body convulsing around him as you shatter, pleasure ripping through you like a tidal wave. Kento groans, feeling you clench around him, and he thrusts a few more times before he’s there too, his own release surging through him with a low, guttural sound.

You collapse against him, both of you panting, bodies trembling and slick with sweat. For a moment, you just stay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, feeling the aftershocks of what you’ve just shared. He strokes your back gently, his breath still uneven, his heart pounding against yours.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly, his voice filled with concern, his thumb brushing a strand of hair from your face.

You smile, your fingers tracing the lines of his jaw. "More than okay, baby." you whisper, leaning in to kiss him again, tasting the salt of your shared exertion on his lips. "I don't want this to end.”

“I missed you.” He whispered lowly as he pressed a kiss on your palm. “More than you ever could know.”

You smiled at him. “Me too, my love.”

“I want to come home….and make things right.” Your husband tells you, his eyes tortured by desperation. “I want to make it up to you.”

“I know.” You nodded at him, leaning forward and kissing his chin. “Just come home. We’ll figure it out….like we always do.”

[creekfiend]

I have been having a really weird experience this summer, which is that I fell in love for the first time. I'm 36, and if you'd asked me if I had ever been in love previously, I would have said "I don't know, maybe? I used to think so but now I'm not sure? What's it mean to be in love?? how would I know if I had or not???" I thought that because I had not experienced it myself, the people who were always saying "oh no, trust me, You Would Know" were all lying or otherwise mistaken. I DID NOT BELIEVE THEM. I was fully like "this is some sort of mass delusion, there's no way that's a thing"

Now that I know that this is something that Exists even if it doesn't always Look Like They Tell You, there's SO many things that make sense to me!!! Whenever I encountered Romance Stuff before, I had no desire to do any of it AND could not comprehend why anyone else would ever want to either. It was this really large experiential disconnect for me. Whether or not I want to do any of those things, I now understand why other people would, if they Were In Love. LIKE I GET IT NOW. IT MAKES SENSE TO ME. I still can't relate to things like people in movies falling in love instantly, but now it's like "oh right, that's a potential state of being that exists," rather than "pretty fucked up that hollywood made Being In Love up to sell more flowers or whatever."

I feel like I'm constantly 24/7 running a software update on my brain that's been overdue to be installed for years or perhaps decades. It's just like "OK YUP UPDATING ALL THESE PROGRAMS AND FOLDERS. THIS WILL TAKE SOME TIME AND DATA BYTES OR WHATEVER, BUCKLE UP!" Pretty sure there's actually one of those little rainbow spinning icons above my head the whole time I'm conscious, like I am some sort of very confused Sim.

This happened to me REALLY SLOWLY, too, so it was like a big blockage in a river, and more and more stuff was just piling up against it, and then the dam broke, and now I'm sitting in the shallows of a giant basin lake under a massive waterfall wringing my hat out and going "woah. they got never before seen types of fish in here"

Who else knew about this??? Unfortunately the answer is: a majority of human beings over a certain age DID in fact know about this, it's just that every time anyone said "this is a way people feel about each other sometimes," I said "hmm. sounds fake." In-cred-i-ble.

Turns out that being in love is just an experience that people can have!! It's just a thing that happens sometimes! Some people have had it happen to them a bunch and some people not at all. It's just A Thing That Can Happen To You. Wtf. WHAT WILL I DISCOVER NEXT????? IT COULD BE ANYTHING !!! WHAT WOULD BE THE FUNNIEST POSSIBLE NEXT THING FOR ME TO REALIZE EXISTS? ONLY TIME WILL TELL. (Can you fucking imagine having this happen to you when you are in your seventies or eighties rather than your mid thirties ????? THAT WOULD BE THE WORLD'S MOST DISORIENTING EXPERIENCE.) (I also thought that "having chemistry" was fake.) (Do not diagnose me, I PROMISE I already know)

[roxineedstosleep]

Could you do a snippet for yandere platonic Batfam where reader accidentally gets hurt and is able to hide it for a few days until someone (May be Dick?) finds it and asks / gets upset about it? Love your writing!!! ♥️♥️♥️♥️

Hi there!!!

First of all: Thank you sweetie!

It's been a while since I've written, mostly because of the university, I'm about to graduate and I'm crazy because I'm approaching my final exams (I even have to defend my research work to be able to get my bachelor's degree)!

But, I got to thinking a bit about what you have written above… and even more so because I myself am a little bit crashed after my last film shoot for my final year of my degree. And can I just say that being in a bad way and having to hide it is terrible.

So… here goes!

(I'm sorry if I sound a bit comical in this writing, but I think the best way to get over something is to laugh at yourself a bit so you don't think about the pain too much; I hope you enjoy it anyway.)

Disclaimer: I don't know if you've noticed, but English is not my native/mother tongue. Occasionally, when I think too much, I write them in my language and then translate it in a trusted translator. So, if there's a grammatical problem or a strange term, it's the translator's fault.

Let's face it… having a large family is terribly exhausting.

It's never quiet enough, everyone is in everyone else's business, you can't leave your favorite mermelade in the fridge for less than a day. Someone is always occupying the bathroom or using your favorite shampoo or watching something on TV at too much volume and someone is probably occupying your bed at nap time.

Did I mention about meddling too much in other people's business? Yes? Well… triple it.

Having multiple siblings was new.

Having multiple siblings, a father and a butler/grandfather isn't exactly bread and butter either.

It wouldn't be so bad to belong to a large and numerous one if it was your blood family and you had lived with them all your life. I mean, sometimes blood is too thick and you have no choice but to learn to love them or just be nice to each other.

Like I said, it wouldn't be so bad if they were really your family.

But the Waynes were not your family. Not distant relatives or anything like that.

You were just living your life, as quietly as possible… and poof!

New room, new butler/grandfather, pets beyond belief, 4 new male siblings and a father with serious emotional constipation issues. And, to add more salt to your wound…. all have serious abandonment issues and death-related trauma.

After several escape attempts, sleep strikes, hunger strikes and any other kind of protest that an anarchist could be proud of… you realized that it was simply impossible to get out of this without risking the path of death.

Which, to top it all off, was also unreliable because apparently your older brother Jason had revived as well as another of your siblings. So no, dying was also not a viable option to which one could resort in the worst case scenario.

What to do?

Well, not much. Trying not to die of suffocation of affection or finding a way to have privacy while going to the bathroom just seemed to be the best survival tools you could resort to.

What does that entail?

It implies that Tim was going to give you hours and hours of lectures on his latest discovery of a case, even if you don't understand half the things he's told you or mentioned at all.

Richard and Damian trying to teach you new tricks almost every second, taking you to the Zoo or not leaving you alone to go to the bathroom.

That Jason, oh holy cow he is the only one more relaxed, takes you with him on his motorcycle to eat ice cream and to the public library. Without being able to scape, because it seems that you have a kind of GPS inserted in the bone marrow.

(Sometimes you don't know if it's true or not, but sometimes you also felt pain between your bones, almost during the cold seasons, and you didn't want to burst your poor little head thinking of different viable possibilities knowing them. No scars, no remembering anythins about any surgery).

Have a grandfather who will not hesitate to make you cookies, your favorite foods whenever you want … without leaving you aside at any time.

Plus a terribly quiet father, who if he can will carry you for as long as you spend time together, won't let you near the secret basement and enjoys being in the same room with you.

Do you see any privacy in this?

No, because even at the bathroom door would be the pets trying to get in and see you for themselves while you want to do your business.

The worst of that? Titus always judge you when you close the curtains.

As I mentioned and it was clear: Having a large family implies little privacy… Having a large, obsessive family means NO privacy.

So, knowing that you have over 50 nanochips tracking in all your clothes, two security monitors embedded - God knows how - in your body (monitors that only tell you if you are in designated safe place), 20 high definition surveillance cameras in every room and a Great Dane chasing you like a chick …. How the heck do you fall down the stairs and hit your pelvic bone without anyone noticing?

No kidding, how?

And if you had to blame someone for your fall… you'd totally blame Damian for it.

It's not that the kid pushed you down the stairs, but over time he had tamed himself into various things and relaxed into looking his age. You know!!! He started acting like a normal teenager!

What do Damian's kids do at his age? Well, they leave things lying around and have messing around them when they can, of course they do!

You just wanted some yogurt with orange marmalade. Maybe some oatmeal cookies. Alfred had left it for you in the fridge when he noticed you'd been watching video tutorials on homemade marmalade for hours. Who were you to deny such a gesture of generosity?

I mean, Alfred was the one who allowed you to hide in the attic for hours on end so you could have some time to yourself.

And how did it end? You, slipping down the main stairs of the old Wayne mansion, down a nicely polished wooden staircase, rolling all the way down (which is no small flight of stairs, it should be noted) to the bottom of the first floor.

Now, lying on the ground is not so bad in itself. What is bad is not being able to feel your legs and still not being able to understand how you manage to tidy up your neural wiring so that your legs can still move on their own and go to the kitchen to rescue all the delicacies Alfred left you in time.

And it's a good thing you managed to do it… because within seconds Bart had rushed in to ransack the fridge and the fruit basket.

But that's not the point.

The important thing is that this time you managed, I insist a little on the feat of action, to climb up to your room and not notice how you couldn't really feel your legs.

You ate, you lay down… and to your bad or good luck, you couldn't get up …. and without anyone noticing there was an emergency and everyone went out to sort it out.

Weak limbs, limited movement and you don't want to mention the embarrassing actions you did in order to go to the toilet.

It's not like you hid it either, I mean, there was no one who could even notice because they weren't entirely available to watch you. Nor is it that you would have run away, otherwise they would have been at your side in less than a second.

The detail, as they insist, is that you had probably bruised your back badly and your body was now taxing you extra for your food craving.

I insist, you did not hide anything.

But still, when you're found completely itchy on the floor, ridiculously trying to run away in the direction of the bathroom… that's when everyone really goes crazy.

First, having to carry you and not dying of embarrassment when you notice that Bruce definitely doesn't give a damn about having to carry you to the bathroom and do almost everything for you.

Or having Dick and Jason carry you and fit you into some kind of weird medical scanner they have in the cave.

Or that Tim keeps track of your periods, types of meds you take and, for fuck's sake, knows how the fuck to inject something into your spine.

Or that Damian had the gall to look a little embarrassed when he heard that a pair of boxers lying outside the laundry basket was to blame for all this.

NO matter.

At the end of the day they heal you, pamper you, leave you alone when you need to take a nap and figure out a way to fix it without looking like complete maniacs who built some kind of internal plumbing that sucks up the dirty laundry and throws it straight into the washing machine.

Like the time they didn't look like maniacs by sanding all the edges of the tables and nightstands.

Or the time they bought a whole brand of sanitary towels when they realised that not all women use tampons.

Don't worry, they're looking out for you… even if they look like deranged Arkhan freaks in the process.

[swkbiggestdefender]

I think it's really tragic how wukong never felt satisfied with his immortality it never felt enough for him if he never got imprisoned and met tang sanzang I believe he would've never stopped

and you can understand why, he never had parents he was never a child he was deferent from everyone else not a celestial being not exactly a demon just a stone monkey I think immortality and power made him feel safe and it didn't help that most of his old friends only became his friends because he's powerful I think it pushed the idea in his head that he should be powerful to be loved

Then he met tang sanzang the only person who got mad at wukong for abusing his powers or when he act like he should do whatever he wants because he's powerful that's how everyone treated him like and when macaque said to wukong "the great sage thinks he can do whatever he wants" it was a bit too late for that call out not saying it was his responsibility to guide wukong because it wasn't but he probably should've said those things in his mind earlier because it's obvious that he built some resentment that he kept for himself

and don't get me wrong wukong was definitely in the wrong but so is everyone who allowed him that mindset and even encouraged it mostly azure for treating wukong like he's above everyone even azure himself it only give wukong problems with his ego and sometimes narcissist destructive ways of thinking

and then he met tang sanzang who made him realise in the hard way that he isn't above it all because he's strong and immortal the thing he worked so hard for became meaningless

tang sanzang was the only person who was capable of saving wukong from his path of self destruction without him he would've probably looked for more immortality forever or till it finally destroyed him the pilgrims and him were on equal footing he wasn't treated above them like he was treated in the brotherhood he made mistakes they made mistakes they forgive him he forgive them they made each other better people they gave him a sense of belonging he could've never had with the brotherhood

That's why they probably stayed together even after the journey because they're family in the ways that mattered that's why wukong isn't obsessed with immortality anymore because they're more important because he doesn't need to be strong to be loved by them he just needed to be more empathetic and selfless and he did all those things

He can play cheeky and obnoxious all he wants he's definitely one of the gentlest characters in the show after sandy and it's all because of the pilgrims especially tang sanzang

[3liza]

sociopathic capitalist urban developers as a class have managed to fool an entire generation of self-identified leftist "YIMBYs" into bulldozing currently-occupied low income housing and functioning green space including the mature, carbon-sequestering, heat-protectant trees everyone is always crying about to build cardboard "luxury" slums for the Seattle ruling class to use as barbie houses and everyone gets mad at me when i suggest disrupting steady occupancy, neighborhood social support networks, and more intangible established occupancy benefits like not having to deal with packing and unpacking etc which takes at least a year for anyone with any level of dysfunction to recover from, might be bad, and that developers are lying to us about specifically the "need" for destructive new building construction, and that planting their shitty non native decorative trees will replace the mature native growth they had to rip up to build it. like what is it specifically about housing barons that makes leftists so happy to abandon the principles of "believe the capitalists when they tell you their goal is to make a profit above all else". you can literally go on reddit, type in 5-over-1, and find developers and people who work with developers going "yeah we use the cheapest possible materials and cut as many corners as we can make appear 'legal' to build these things, because it makes money". look up "low income housing closing", no one ever shows me numbers on how much low income housing is being lost because those aren't the cool numbers of grim, forward-thinking internet leftist stoicism but actual project housing is constantly being shut down and everyone kicked out because it turns out people who have a lot of problems sometimes have those problems visibly in public and this offends the Bainbridge Island parasites.

sorry folks we had to evict 20 poors who had been living in the Sundew Arms garbage apartment block from 1960 with below-market rent in order to build the new and improved condo, which will actually house fewer people per square foot regardless of the number of units because the rent will be higher and high income people don't have roommates or live with family and well all these shiny new amenities and the Peloton in the communal gym and the mini dog piss park and so on....we have to charge at least $2500. you understand. it's the market stupid. we're Building Housing you can't criticize us for Building Housing. there's a Housing Shortage.

well the government says we have to earmark 10% of the new building to Low Income Housing which means we will probably just pay the nominal fine instead or possibly a single unit will maybe at some point be gingerly allotted to someone who has been on the Section 8 waiting list for hang on let me look it up..."randomly via lottery or several years during which you will be continually means tested and/or kicked off the waiting list without notification or explanation". great. i love urban density. this is so walkable. this cheap carpet offgassing is so identity. are we really that stupid

[burningcheese-merchant]

Psst, hear me out: The Beast being fucking yanderes with the ancients.

You Get It™️ I mean... Did you guys see episode 6? Burning Simp Cookie is already a yandere lol. He's been there and he refuses to leave. And Shadow Milk is honestly not that far behind, he feels some type of way towards Pure Vanilla and it would be cute if it wasn't so sad and creepy lol

Really though, I just love hero/villain ships in general (always have, since long before Cookie Run ever existed) and I get a kick out of villains acting stupid over crushes (read: obsessions), and acting stupid in general. There's just something about a villain being in love with the hero to a psychotic, comical degree, and the hero rebuffing them at every turn that's just really amusing to me lol. Like what Joker sort of has with Batman, you know?

Here are my Yandere Beasts in bare-bones terms:

Burning Spice: come on, if you've read my stuff, you know EXACTLY what Yandere Spice is like lol. If not, I'll refer you to this and this, as well as my fics on AO3. If those don't tell you what Yandere Spice is like then idk how else to help you lol

Shadow Milk: if the final boss of theater/drama kids had a crush but was also a malignant narcissist of some sort lol. Absolutely DESPERATE for Vanilla's attention at all times. If he's not actively trying to worm into Vanilla's brain and harass him in his thoughts and dreams, he's in the real world brainstorming better ways to do that lol. He does not grasp why the creepy puppet shows and gaslighting attempts aren't convincing Vanilla to fall in love with him. Will attack and torment and insult Vani in one breath and then praise and love and worship him in another, because he's a histrionic clown freak with whirlwind emotions. But above all else, he literally thinks he owns Vani and is meticulously plotting the horrible and hilarious demise of any and all he perceives as a threat to their union

Eternal Sugar: World's Laziest Stalker™️. Almost exclusively haunts Holly in her dreams (I have to assume that that's what her power will entail, as the Beast of Sloth); however, she's more "effective" in her wooing attempts due to her past experience as the Herald of Happiness. She actually goes out of her way to construct dreams and the like that have things in them that make Holly happy (or what she thinks makes Holly happy; she, as well as the others, has big tunnel vision and is very selfish and self-absorbed, and thus pays more lip service to her own wants than those of who she loves/obsesses over). Thankfully doesn't run into Holly in person often because that's work... but sometimes she DOES work up the nerve to go after her for real, and... well

Mystic Flour: Denial, denial, denial. Not just a river in Egypt the Golden Cheese Kingdom, but she'll say and act like otherwise. No, she does not like Dark Cacao. He robbed her of her volition and the chance to enact her will. He prevented her from freeing the world from pain and suffering. He is a stubborn fool who refuses to understand the truth. He... is very handsome. She does not like how handsome he is. It is distracting. She doesn't like dwelling on her memories of him and their encounters. She doesn't like how she came to harbor a single kernel of respect in her heart after he stood his ground against her; a kernel that she inadvertently nurtured and cultivated slowly but surely, until... no. No, she doesn't like Dark Cacao. She doesn't think about him all day. She doesn't want to try to lure him back to her land so she can trap him in the flour fog with her again. She doesn't miss feeling his dark eyes on her. She doesn't deeply resent his attachment to his people, and seek to transfer that attachment to her instead. No, she... damn it, he's ruined her. He's made her feel things again. He's made her succumb to selfishness and greed, to earthly desire and attachment - desire for HIM, attachment to HIM. All of her hard work and enlightenment gone to waste... She doesn't want to like Dark Cacao, she recognizes the folly in such a thing, but she's stuck - and so stuck is she that not only does she not really see a way out, she doesn't WANT one. She's become too content with her attachment to him too quickly. Now she has to agonize over her own foolishness, and try to keep denying that she doesn't care while also longing for his attention and wanting to do away with all that steals his attention away from her

Silent Salt: probably the least awful of the five, but he's still creepy and that's not a high bar to clear anyway lol. Has a better grasp on "normal" behavior than the others (like... he pays attention to what White Lily likes/wants and tries to adjust accordingly), but he's following her around everywhere and acting extremely violent and territorial over her towards anyone who he catches approaching her. He's legitimately, surprisingly sweet and gentle towards her; he brings her flowers, he listens to her when she asks/tells him something, he's more or less respectful of her personal space (he will try to be as physically close to her as possible, but actually backs off a little if she asks him to, only to try again, and so on and so forth)... but he's still a villain, he's still violent and creepy, he still gets angry when she pays attention to other people for too long and he has brought actual harm to others out of jealousy. He's the best of the worst but that really doesn't mean much of anything, he's still a psycho creep like the others

In short, they form a tight-knit coalition of absolutely fucking deranged freakazoids and they should all probably die :)

[noveltea]

"Go ahead," the hero challenged, his voice hoarse from exhaustion, and words better left unsaid. He met the villain's eyes, then lowered his head in defeat. "Just make it quick," he said quietly.

This was everything the villain had ever wanted: to finally be the one with all the power. And yet, as he gazed down at the hero, he felt only remose. "That's it?" He asked. He grabbed the hero's chin and forced the hero to look at him. "I thought you were a fighter. Get up."

A light scoff was the hero's only response.

Remorse gave way to anger. "Get up," the villain demanded in a low, dangerous tone.

"Or what?"

"Or I'll unmask you," the villain threatened, his irritation growing with each passing moment.

"Do it then."

"Are you being purposefully irritating?"

"Not at all. I'm giving you what you want."

"You have no idea what I want!" The villain bit back, his hand sliding from the hero's chin to his throat. "I have everyone's favorite hero on his knees. The only thing that would make this better is if you were begging."

A choked laugh escaped the hero's throat. "And why would I beg?" He laughed again, then gasped when the villain's fingers tightened around his neck.

The villain had only a single demand: "Beg."

"No," came the strangled reply.

"Beg!"

"Fuck. You."

The villain shoved the hero backward. "You- God- I can't fucking stand you! Don't you have an iota of self-preservation? Fight me!"

Even after several deep breaths, the hero was breathless, "I'm so tired of fighting with you. Why don't you- join me in the dirt?"

After several seconds of silence, the villain lay down next to the hero. Both fixed their gaze on the dusky sky above them. "Aren't you afraid of people... asking questions?"

"Sure. Absolutely terrified."

The villain turned to look at the man beside him. "You don't care what people think of you?"

A sharp, humorless laugh, "I do. God, I'm so terrified to let other people down that sometimes," he turned to face the villain, "sometimes I'm frozen in place by other people's expectations. And you know what? Fuck it! I can't make everyone happy. I know what I want, even if no one else understands why."

Something like hope stirred in the villain's heart. "And what do you want?" He asked, tentatively taking the hero's hand.

The hero gave the villain's hand a squeeze before letting it go. "I want us to be friends, and later," he said as he pressed his forehead to the villain's, "maybe more."

"We've already been more."

"Yes, well, I need time to trust you again."

The villain took several moments to respond, "...then I'll wait until I've earned it again. And," he turned away from the hero, his voice wavering slightly, "I'm sorry I hurt you."

Taking the villain's hand in his own, the hero gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Don't worry, villain, I have a list of ideas on how you can make it up to me."

[churipu]

hello !! ૮˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ა i really love your writing and your soft scenarios, they bring me so much serotonin and happiness to be honest !

i don’t know if you take requests still, but could you please do a part two of jjk men + short partner with geto? only if you want to of course, i’ll respect your decision either way don’t worry! thank you so much! <3

JJK MEN + SHORT PARTNER

featuring. geto suguru, itadori yuuji, sukuna ryomen x reader

warnings. reader is a non-sorcerer (geto)

note. hihi nonnieeee <33 thank you so much for saying that, you don't understand how much you saying that makes me so happy :(( i'm so glad that my works can bring you happiness omg. this is part two to the short partner headcanons.

part one.

GETO SUGURU. geto honestly could care less about your height — he finds you so adorable that he sometimes can't help but to pinch your cheeks gently, tugging your flesh and squeezing it lightly out of love; it has turned into a small habit that he does to you.

"sugu, no more, my cheeks are going to swell," you tell him, covering your cheeks with your hands to prevent the male from touching it again.

geto couldn't help but to chuckle at your reaction. you're so cute, so small compared to him that all he wanted to do was to poke fun at you. laying his large, calloused hand on top of your head whenever you both sit side-by-side, softly shifting just to pat you.

he will put you on his lap, playing with your hair as you do your own thing. you know a perk of being a shortie? when you sit on a certain height, you get to swing your legs lightly, letting it just flail above ground — and when you do that, geto stares at you lovingly.

"i'm a little jealous of you," your boyfriend mumbles, leaning his chin on top of the palm of his hand. his eyes gazing to your figure as you swung your legs lightly.

"why?"

"you get to swing your legs like that," he pointed his index finger to your legs and you stopped swinging your legs, "why'd you stop?"

"so you won't feel jealous."

geto easily pulls you into his embrace, nuzzling his head into your neck, "keep doing that, 'm enjoying it, you know?" he mumbles, pressing a kiss onto your neck.

he hates non-sorcerers, but when it comes to you? he just can't hate you.

ITADORI YUUJI. ABOSLUTELY LOVES YOUR SHORT HEIGHT. he would and will help you take things that are out of your reach — won't make fun of you, don't worry, I assure you there will never be a scenarios where yuuji makes fun of you. he just thinks you're so perfect, and he gets really sad when you make fun of yourself.

"baby, why would you say that?" he asks you, pulling you close, laying his head on your shoulder.

"yuuji, because it's true," you chuckled, brushing his hair.

"but i like that part of you. your height," he muffles into your clothes, leaning into your touch.

he gets so mushy with you — i'm not even kidding, will grab you, throw you over his shoulders and walk around anywhere. greeting people he know on the way, even gojo or nanami (while you're on his shoulder, also greeting them).

"nanamin, hi!" yuuji greets, walking past the older male as he turned to look at both you and him, you waved at nanami when he turns around to look — and he waves back at you, confused.

yuuji is clingy. but you don't mind — he will latch himself onto you, do you know how parents hold their baby when they're trying to teach them how to walk? yuuji does that with you, even if you're not that much shorter than him; still short, he still does it. because you're his baby, and he won't accept anything else.

"c'mon baby, left and right, left and right." he guides your arms forward, standing behind you.

as you took a step, he takes one too — like teaching a baby how to walk, it's cute really, "yes, just like that," he laughs. god, he's having so much fun with you.

yuuji won't let anyone call you short, even gojo. will fight anyone who makes fun of you, and not even kidding. he will not back down from defending you.

"what do you mean they're too short?" he retorts back, rolling his eyes, "you're too annoying and nobody's saying anything."

SUKUNA RYOMEN. huge. tease. about it. will go on until you cry — but will make it up to you in his own way. he's not one to say how much he loves you, but you do know that he does. he just refuses to say it.

"ryo, stop. it's not funny anymore." you mumble out lowly to him, pushing his chest away.

he chuckles deeply, but when he realizes it was serious; he stops, turns away for a bit before glancing back at you. sukuna isn't much of a crier, so he doesn't know what to do when you cry — he gets a little confused, like, why are you crying because he called you short?

"why are you crying, brat?" he grunted.

"you're being mean to me."

"i called you short." he sighs out loudly, pulling your arm away from your face — revealing your tearful eyes, "stop crying," he thumbs your tears away from the corner of your eyes.

"then stop doing that, you've done that so many times, it's pissing me off." you mumbled at him, sniffling lightly.

the male groans out, rolling his eyes, "are humans this dramatic?" he asks you, wiping your tears away; pulling you onto his lap, burying his face into the crook of your neck — as much as he tries to put up this tough guys demeanor, he feels bad for making you cry.

but will definitely do it again next time.

it's weird; sukuna shows his love by teasing the hell out of you, pissing you off, making you cry — then ends up feeling bad for a few hours before doing the same thing all over again.

"'m sorry, but i'll do it again next time." he murmurs into your neck.

"you're mean."

"i know. but i love you."

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[vicvinegarandhughhoney]

Dennis Reynolds is AUTISTIC!!!!

(At least, I headcanon him as such).

Here's why:

Sensory issues:

If you've watched the show, you probably already know what I mean, but Dennis really struggles to deal with sensory input. When there's a loud noise, he often covers his ears- like in Family Fight:

or he gets frustrated, lashing out at diners for being too loud (The Gang Dines Out), getting annoyed at Frank for chewing gum too loud.

It's worth noting that later on in this episode, Dennis can hear Frank chewing gum from the other room. He's clearly hypersensitive, and perhaps this even goes to explaining a little bit why his room is soundproofed? Could it be that rather than not wanting people to hear what's going on inside, he's desperate to block the noise coming from outside?? (this was suggested by @kod-lyoko , and I LOVE IT).

There are SO many examples of Dennis plugging his ears (often when the others don't react in such a strong way):

There are way too many examples to list here, and too many images I could give (the above were taken from @dennisboobs ' gif set) but hopefully you get the impression.

Social issues:

I feel like this one is pretty self-evident, but I find deconstructing the things Dennis does super fun, so I'm going to explain anyway: Dennis does NOT know how relationships work. There are a great deal of factors at play to cause this (I would argue that his early experiences in life definitely moulded his view in an unhelpful way) but the systematic way he looks at interactions REEKS of autism to me.

The DENNIS system is hardly peak autism representation (it's certainly not the bright and bubbly stuff people often talk about), but the fact that he has a system for romantic/sexual interactions, both for men AND women, feels super autistic-coded. He quite literally has a script which he follows to make interactions easier, one which he sticks to rigidly. And if anybody tries to implement this carefully thought out system incorrectly? Well, he'll let you know (e.g in The Dennis System episode where he blows up at Mac and Charlie for not getting it right at the fair).

He masks his social deficits well, but sometimes things don't go to plan. Sometimes, the girl on the cruise ship runs away, and Dennis announces that 'that's not supposed to happen'.

He comes off as creepy, but that's not his intention. He doesn't understand the way he's perceived by others in general- he thinks he's the King of St Joseph's, not realising he was actually an outcast all along. Just like a lot of autistic people, he didn't understand that he was on the fringes of society until it was thrust in his face, and that hurt.

Speech:

While Dennis often appears to speak pretty normally, there are a few occasions where his frustration causes this mask of normality to slip.

In The Gang Finds a Dumpster Baby, Dennis is caught off guard by the hipster's reading of him, and immediately goes back to Frank and Charlie, parroting almost the same words he heard right back to them, despite not seeming to understand them at all (perhaps a form of echolalia?).

"I'm out here trying to make a difference, and you're over here rummaging around in the trash like a couple of narcs! Okay, you can't just come down here with your mainline cashmere, mousse... quaff... hairspray, and start being like, a suburban tool!"

It's also worth noting that even the poetic way he speaks when he's angry could be a trait ?? As a recently diagnosed autistic person, in my report they spoke about how I used 'idiosyncratic' language (basically, peculiar language lol), and listed terms like 'connoisseur', which I guess were deemed pretty formal for casual conversation.

And it got me thinking, who else do we know who uses VERY idiosyncratic language? Dennis. Reynolds.

"The thunder of my vengeance will echo through these halls, like the gust of a thousand winds"

"Begone, vile man, begone from me!... I am untethered and my rage knows no bounds!"

"You didn't tell me there was to be pollen!"

Etc... etc...

The way he repeats 'savages, idiots!' during his rage at the frat bros feels very autism coded to me. Repetition of certain words and phrases is common!

Heightened emotions:

Again, something that I didn't know until I myself was diagnosed is that for a lot of autistic people, we spend most of the time at a pretty 'flat' emotional state, but when we do experience emotions, we experience them intensely. Frustration turns into anger, sadness turns into despair, happiness turns into ecstasy- it's why some autistic people might be misdiagnosed with bipolar disorder!

This, of course, fits well with the way Dennis experiences emotions. He spends a lot of the time believing he doesn't have any at all, and when he does feel something, it's overwhelming.

"And I have feelings! Of course I have feelings, I have big feelings, okay? And it hurts."

These lines hit hard regardless of the extra weight you put on them, but when you see them through the lens of autism, through the lens of a lifetime of misunderstanding and overstimulation, it makes them hit even harder.

It hurts him to feel. His emotions are so strong that they're painful, and he's never been taught how to deal with them, because nobody even knew he had them in the first place.

Stimming:

Finally, I think Dennis stims. A lot. If you search up 'Dennis Reynolds autistic' on this very site, you'll find gifsets and videos illustrating this.

He has a few very common ones, like tugging on his earlobe when he's anxious, playing with his fingers, etc, but if you pay attention to him even when he's in the background of scenes, you'll pick up on a lot. Dennis is constantly moving, and while you could suggest this is simply a result of Glenn's ADHD, I'd argue that some of these stims happen so frequently in Sunny specifically, that there's no way they're coincidental.

Glenn makes a lot of very specific acting and directorial choices in Sunny, so why dismiss these as choices too?

That's all I can be bothered to type up now, but here's my case for Autistic!Dennis ! Of course, he's a complex character so there's always room for different interpretations...

but as an autistic person, I hereby claim him as One Of Us™.

[burr-ell]

Conflict, Communication, and Chemistry: A Laura and Marisha PC Appraisal

A couple of people have observed across all three main campaigns that Laura and Marisha consistently make characters that ultimately don't seem to fully understand each other for various reasons, and their characters' chemistry (or lack thereof) is an outgrowth of that. And until recently, I thought that was one of those things that I personally saw but not everyone else was obligated to view the same way—chemistry is often subjective, and it’s for that reason that I tend not to take seriously a lot of the common shipping-based arguments about chemistry.

But in the most recent 4-Sided Dive, Marisha, Laura, and Sam said this:

MARISHA: I have enjoyed…of course, like, delving into the relationship is always fun, but then relationship tension is also fun. LAURA: Yeah, I feel like you guys [points between Marisha and Sam] are really big on—you really like relationship conflict too. You guys talk about that a lot. SAM: Of course. Because I don’t have any in my real life. LAURA: I’m terrified of conflict. That translates to the game as well, I don’t like conflict. SAM: You don’t like conflict? Even in the game, in this dramatic storytelling game that we’ve made together? LAURA: No! I don’t like fighting! SAM: You just want everything to go fine? LAURA: Yes!

And I think that made things click into place for me. This is the reason why their characters have this through-line, because their approaches to conflict bleed through to their character choices. Laura's characters’ issues tend to be internal; they tend not to have prolonged fights with other characters, and their arcs are often person-vs-self stories about emotional walls and struggling with self-centeredness in some capacity. Marisha's characters, on the other hand, are upfront about their problems and are completely unafraid to go toe-to-toe with other party members, and their character development is often a product of a straightforward person-vs-person or person-vs-society story about overcoming their physical obstacles. And it’s part of why their current characters’ relationship has played out in a way that’s strange and off-kilter, because their interactions do not read to me like the players really understood this about each other before the public talk show discussion quoted above.

In Campaign 1, Vex and Keyleth’s relationship is conspicuous by its absence; even within their superficial commonalities, they are not particularly drawn to each other beyond circumstance. Vex is unquestionably the leader of Vox Machina insofar as they have one, and she does this by consistently finding a compromise—when the group is arguing about their best course of action in Whitestone or Westruun or Draconia or the Nine Hells, Vex is the one who mediates and strategizes their way out. She's very good at seeing all sides of an issue, threading the needle, and coming to a decision that keeps the group happy and together. The problem is that she tends to do this at the expense of her personal needs being met; she bottles up a lot of her emotions and issues and she struggles with letting people in, and has to work on not internalizing and holding grudges.

Keyleth, on the other hand, consistently takes stances and isn't afraid to be the moral compass of the party, like when she notices how dark everyone is becoming during the Briarwood arc and fights to correct it. She lets herself feel what she feels rather than pushing it away, which allows her to overcome the physical and mental challenges of her Aramente and affords her more emotional freedom and honesty. Sometimes, though, these traits work against her—she will argue a point and continue to belabor it until someone else steps in; she can be self-righteous due to her own naïveté; and her emotional openness can be poorly-timed and lead her into indecision and dithering. One of the few one-on-one conversations Keyleth and Vex have is after Vex dies and is brought back in the Sunken Tomb, and Vex is quickly exasperated at having to deal with Keyleth’s feelings when she’s the one who died and she’s just trying to piece together what happened.

Vex is often frustrated by Keyleth's hardline beliefs and feelings and has to compromise around them; Keyleth sees conflict in a much more literal way than the internalization and masking that Vex does, and as a result never really digs deeper into who Vex is as a person. By the end of the campaign, they call each other sisters, which I think is appropriate—they're two people who care about each other but have little in common, tied together by the single factor of Vax. Outside of that commonality, there's little reason for them to be especially close the way they are with other members of the party; if there was, they’d have been close at any point throughout the previous 114 episodes.

Beau and Jester form a stronger friendship in Campaign 2, but they seem to understand just enough about each other to get along well while not being able to truly see each other. Jester is cheerful and goofy by nature, but she also projects that particular image in order to make the people around her happy and keep them together. While she will speak her mind, she doesn’t tend to stand at one end or the other of the ideological and political spectrum of issues faced by the Nein and is simply happy to have an adventure and sow some chaos. Even when having difficulties with the Traveler, Jester is willing to work through it and find a solution that works for both of them in order to preserve the relationship.

Beau, meanwhile, approaches the world abrasively and aggressively and is a bit too prepared to burn bridges with people if she thinks they aren’t worth it. While she recognizes the nuances of the conflict between the Empire and the Dynasty, she’s ultimately loyal to the Cobalt Soul’s mission of using knowledge to fight corruption. She’s perfectly happy to butt heads with Caleb or Fjord or Molly if she thinks they’re in the wrong, and her cut-your-losses mentality puts her in conflict with how important the Traveler is to Jester.

This difference is thrown into especially sharp relief not only by how they deal with their respective fathers, but also the response they think the other should have. Jester wants to reconnect with the Gentleman and for him to repair his and Marion’s relationship, while Beau has fully written off Thoreau and has no interest in reconciling. Jester is upset at Beau’s suggestion that she just forget her dad and not put effort into someone who won’t do the same for her, while Beau is less than impressed with Jester’s suggestion that Thoreau really does care about her and it might be worth it to patch things up, and the upshot of it all is that the way everything plays out makes it clear that both of them have badly misread the other’s situation.

Beau, like Keyleth before her, doesn’t seem to understand that Jester is masking a lot of insecurities and wants someone to see her for who she is and not an idealized version of her; Jester actually stops confiding in Beau after Beau tells her she doesn’t need Artagan and that she’s the actual god. Jester, meanwhile, is unwilling to set aside her dreams and fantasies and is at her happiest when she can roam and adventure freely, something for which Beau would not set aside her responsibilities and beliefs in the mission of the Cobalt Soul. They’re still good friends, but going their separate ways is a benefit to both of them.

And now we have Imogen and Laudna, whose relationship felt lacking well before it became romantic. A lot of time and energy has been spent by multiple people trying to articulate exactly why that is, and there are many reasons—Laudna’s concept seems better-suited to a short form narrative and it took about 60 episodes for her character to stop feeling entirely superfluous; the relationship lacks any substantive conflict or disagreement and the supportiveness feels more like a mutual security blanket; they seem to have little in the way of an actual dynamic outside of melodramatic plot moments. But the relevant issue here is that Laudna is, for all intents and purposes, a yes-woman who supports whatever Imogen wants to do simply because Imogen wants it (a trait that notably does not carry over to anyone else in the party—she is completely unafraid to delve into negative emotions and traits with Ashton and Orym, both of whom are played by people Marisha has historically worked with to produce some of the best relationship dynamics on the show). If Imogen wants to run off and live in a cottage or join the Vanguard or commune with Predathos or not commune with Predathos, Laudna will uncritically encourage her no matter what, because per Marisha’s words on the Laudna playlist, “Laudna will protect and attack anyone who tries to fuck with her girl”. Part of Laudna’s core concept, baked in from the beginning, is the belief that Imogen “deserves the world”. Between these two players, the one who enjoys conflict is playing a character who will do everything in her power to shield and soothe the character being played by the one who hates conflict. The result feels less like a healthy supportive relationship and more like a recipe for enablement.

When episode 77 came out, I commented that for the first time I actually started to feel something—anything at all—about Imogen and Laudna, and it’s because I started to get a sense that there might be some real potential for tension and tragedy. And now—between Laudna imploring Imogen to move on from her if she dies, Marisha seeming to suggest at one point that Laudna may not have a future at all, Imogen admitting that she’s outright disgusted by Delilah, the disconnect between the players’ approaches to conflict, Imogen (and Laura, out of character) being shocked and horrified by Laudna absorbing the soul of the Willmaster, and Laudna now intentionally working with Delilah in order to protect Imogen—I’m starting to wonder if their relationship may indeed be on a collision course.

Now this could end in multiple interesting ways: Imogen could be driven away from Laudna, who is slowly consumed by Delilah; Laudna could choose to sacrifice herself to end Delilah for good and Imogen is forced to move on; Imogen and Laudna could Thelma and Louise their way off a cliff; or maybe someone just points out how unhealthy this all is and they start to be more honest and less codependent and their relationship improves after a lot of hard work. But something has to happen. 

Laura and Marisha have, multiple times now, been asked questions about Imogen and Laudna’s relationship that they have answered with varying degrees of “we never really talked about it”, sometimes referring to in-game conversations and sometimes not, and that is both unsurprising and a bad sign of things to come. I don’t know exactly how much out-of-game conversation happened between previous canon relationships that Laura and Marisha have played, but this one desperately needs it—because for three straight campaigns, all we’ve seen is every indication that these are two players who are uniquely ill-suited to play a romance the way either of them would want to.

[allthegothihopgirls]

*holds out my probably canon headcanon like a toddler showing you a cool frog*

hey what do you think abt damian calling his dad baba and his siblings various nicknames in arabic that range from zameel or jalees when he’s particularly annoyed with them to akhi (brother)/ukhti (sister) when hes rlly happy

I LOOOOOVEEEEEE IT!!!!!

anything that keeps damian in touch with his heritage is a huge yes for me. big fan of him slipping arabic words into his sentences, or repeating phrases he grew up around when he can't think of an adequate english equivalent. etc etc

similar to how people who are learning english as a second language tend to mix their native tongue into english sentences. although with damian i don't think he would do it because he isn't confident with the language (because he most definitely is), i think it's just something that's familar to him, and comfortable to slip into his english speech. + sometimes he can just articulate himself better in arabic.

as for the familial names, although he doesn't use them in canon, he very much does seek comfort from things culturally familiar to him, in gotham. such as in teen titans (2016) special #1, when he's implied to often visit a middle-eastern restaurant 'tarbooshes' which reminds him of his home in the league and his mother.

so although the nicknames aren't something shown in the comics, i don't think it'd be unlikely. he's definitely 'in touch' with his culture, and it's far from an out there idea.

as for the specific names, such as calling bruce 'baba', i'm typically all for that. though apparently in arabic that word in particular translates more to 'dad' than it does 'father'. obviously damian's very formal with his speech, so it is a question as to whether or not that would be the nickname he uses for bruce, or whether he'd use more formal titles. (this post gives some alternatives + explains it more).

usually when i see the use of 'baba' in fics, it's very fitting. i'm very partial to the 'sleepy/hurt damian letting his guard down' trope, and i thoroughly enjoy it when the writer lets him slip a "baba" to bruce. one fic that did this really well was 'repeat your favourite mistakes and love them all over again' by watchingthestars13 on ao3, in which damian (although not the focus of the story) is aged down to 2 years old by magic, and coordinates life as a toddler with bruce, rather than with the league. he's very hesitant to affection at first, so when the writer lets an 'about to fall asleep' damian, call bruce his 'baba', it's always just right.

i'm also fond of him having personal nicknames for his siblings beyond 'brother' or 'sister' in arabic. this post talks about how in arab culture it's common for people to refer to loved ones as their organs. i think it's a fun idea for damian, especially because it's something only he would understand. i think he'd be most likely to do this for dick, although maybe he has a generic one that he uses for other siblings when he's suuuuper happy with them.

but he also takes advantage of being the only arab in the house, and one huuuuundred percent switches up the nicknames he uses depending on how he feels about that sibling at a particular time. he is not above throwing flavourful remarks when he's annoyed, in a language no one else understands (whether that be arabic or not), or calling people the nastiest names he can think of.