#anyway i think that's my headcanon now

[moved-2-coyotemaximum]

i think it would be fun if cj was a clone of cassandra.

[licorishh]

double ?? upload ???? yeaaaahh i've gotten FASTERRrr for whatever that's worth so complementary blyla because guess what i miss them too (nobody was surprised by that)

[lucabyte]

Taking pride in One's own appearance.

[thekittyokat]

you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah

[saedyne]

nobody asked but my hot take is that i think kon's struggles with

being literally made to be superman

being given roles and expectations (as a hero/boyfriend/etc) based on that/how he looks and squeezing himself down into those expectations

being torn between duty/obligation (even and perhaps especially of the self-imposed variety) and his own sense of self

feeling like he outlived his purpose after coming back from the dead and not knowing what he's supposed to be now that he's done the superman thing (maybe even feeling like he needs the unbearable weight of expectation because without a job to do or a box to fit into he might dissolve into nothing because he's always avoided examining who he is when there's nobody he has to be i wonder why that is)

could. uh. y'know. all that could be read as quite...queer. in a pretty genderful way. but what do i know.

[teethbomb]

I forgot to post transfem Goemon ‼️‼️

[futuristichedge]

Disability headcanons

[bennetsbonnet]

Much has been made of Mr Darcy's "confession" to Elizabeth that he does not converse easily with strangers. It is repeatedly used to support neurodivergent interpretations of his character. And I suppose that when taken at face value, a character confessing that they do not easily converse with strangers and struggle to catch their tone or appear interested in conversation can absolutely scream AUTISM! (I say as an autistic person myself)

But this line is often taken in isolation. When considered in terms of the passage in which it appears in Chapter 31, it appears far less of a smoking gun than may initially be suspected. After some discussion about Elizabeth and Darcy's prior acquaintance in Hertfordshire, Colonel Fitzwilliam asks Elizabeth for information about Darcy's behaviour there. She readily supplies it:

'Pray let me hear what you have to accuse him of,' cried Colonel Fitzwilliam. 'I should like to know how he behaves among strangers.' 'You shall hear then—but prepare yourself for something very dreadful. The first time of my ever seeing him in Hertfordshire, you must know, was at a ball—and at this ball, what do you think he did? He danced only four dances, though gentlemen were scarce; and, to my certain knowledge, more than one young lady was sitting down in want of a partner. Mr Darcy, you cannot deny the fact.' 'I had not at that time the honour of knowing any lady in the assembly beyond my own party.'

What Darcy leaves out here is that it was he himself who chose not to be introduced to anybody. As we learn from the description of his behaviour at the Meryton assembly in Chapter 3:

Mr Darcy danced only once with Mrs Hurst and once with Miss Bingley, declined being introduced to any other lady, and spent the rest of the evening in walking about the room, speaking occasionally to one of his own party.

Anyway, Elizabeth correctly does not buy his excuses. Not only does she respond with a cutting sarcastic remark, but she tries to bring the discussion with an end by speaking to Colonel Fitzwilliam:

'True; and nobody can ever be introduced in a ball-room. Well, Colonel Fitzwilliam, what do I play next? My fingers wait your orders.'

But Darcy does not get the hint and continues conversing with Elizabeth rather than quitting while he's ahead. However, I don't believe him to be missing a social cue here. Rather, this is an exceedingly conceited man who cannot conceive that anyone would not want to speak to such a Superior Being as he and more-so, is determined to defend himself from a perceived slight against his impeccable character.

Then we come to the passage containing the oft-cited line which allegedly contains proof of his neurodivergency:

'Perhaps,' said Darcy, 'I should have judged better, had I sought an introduction; but I am ill-qualified to recommend myself to strangers.' 'Shall we ask your cousin the reason of this?' said Elizabeth, still addressing Colonel Fitzwilliam. 'Shall we ask him why a man of sense and education, and who has lived in the world, is ill-qualified to recommend himself to strangers?' 'I can answer your question,' said Fitzwilliam, 'without applying to him. It is because he will not give himself the trouble.'

Once again, Elizabeth does not buy his excuse for even a single second. She's fully aware of all the advantages a man such as he will have received in society (opportunities not open to women, might I add!) and draws attention to that fact. It's a brilliant, cutting line from her and she really set that one up for Colonel Fitzwilliam to deliver the knockout blow.

Not only do we have the testimony of Mr Darcy's cousin, that 'he will not give himself the trouble,' to appear cordial to strangers, but we have evidence from Wickham too. Although after this statement, Wickham quickly goes onto misrepresent Darcy's kindness to the poor, which contradicts Mrs Reynold's later testimony, I do believe Wickham to be telling the truth (for once!) here, when he tells Elizabeth in Chapter 16:

'Mr Darcy can please where he chooses. He does not want abilities. He can be a conversible companion if he thinks it worth his while.'

Which, again, demonstrates that Darcy is capable when he wants to be. That is the crucial point. Autistic people fundamentally lack the ability to understand social cues, they cannot turn it on and off as they please because they are snobs.

So, now we come to the infamous line about Darcy's supposed social struggles, and I hope that I've provided enough context to the line to make you see that it should not be taken at face value:

'I certainly have not the talent which some people possess,' said Darcy, 'of conversing easily with those I have never seen before. I cannot catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested in their concerns, as I often see done.' 'My fingers,' said Elizabeth, 'do not move over this instrument in the masterly manner which I see so many women’s do. They have not the same force or rapidity, and do not produce the same expression. But then I have always supposed it to be my own fault—because I will not take the trouble of practising. It is not that I do not believe my fingers as capable as any other woman’s of superior execution.'

Again, Elizabeth is not buying his excuses for even a single second and tells him if he feels like that, maybe he should put the effort in. She has seen him in numerous social settings and been thoroughly unimpressed with his behaviour which, when you consider his rudeness to her at the Meryton assembly, she has every right to be.

So, what do I make of the line?

Well, I think it's abundantly clear that Darcy absolutely can speak to people when he wants to. Perhaps, in his mind, he struggles to make that deeper connection and make friends easily. But making friends is not always easy, it's a process you must invest time and effort into. If you do not do that, it stands to reason that you will struggle. Plus, if you hold others to ridiculous standards (as Darcy does) without recognising and fixing the flaws within yourself, you're not going to have deep, lasting friendships.

While this quote may appear to be a moment of vulnerability where he does confess a fault of his, which is astounding given his pride, personally I do not think it was not a soul-searching exercise. It was to make Elizabeth stop grilling him. It was self-serving. Although, I don't think he's entirely lying. Darcy is veeeery careful with his words and though this statement is not considered and perhaps comes out rather abruptly, it doesn't necessarily follow that it isn't true. I can imagine that it is probably something he's felt for a while, yet it is a rather desperate attempt to defend himself from a woman who sees right through him.

I think perhaps Darcy does realise that he isn't as naturally gifted as other men he knows (such as Wickham, Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr Bingley) when it comes to forming acquaintances. However, he looks outwards and turns that bitterness against the world rather than looking inwards, reflecting upon himself and improving his manners which would be the correct thing to do. Thankfully, he later does this, but it took him twenty eight years...

In addition, Darcy appeared to have been under the illusion that he could coast by on Pemberley's reputation... which has always worked... until he met Elizabeth. For perhaps the first time, he encounters a woman who is not awestruck by him and his reputation and delivers the rebuke that he always needed.

So, while personally I'm inclined to believe there is some truth to his statement, as Mr Darcy is many things but he isn't a liar, I think it is said in desperation. His feeling stems from him knowing what he should do, but he can't be bothered to enact it... rather than any inherent social deficiency stemming from being neurodivergent.

Although, even if he does struggle socially, it's still no excuse for the rudeness he displayed to Elizabeth! My main issue with neurodivergent readings of Darcy is when they are deployed to defend his behaviour, when they attribute his rudeness to any potential neurodivergency and when they excuse his laziness. That is an awful message! Autistic people who struggle with social cues often do not, nor should they, go around insulting others. They should and often do put plenty of effort into being considerate and polite. In fact, I think, if anything, a love of rules makes us more likely to have good manners, rather than the reverse.

Ultimately, I'm not sure this line makes Mr Darcy the sympathetic-poor-sweet-innocent-shy-boy-autistic-representation that people want him to be. In fact it makes him look even worse, if anything. On matters such as these, he is every inch the conceited proud man he was widely believed to be at the Meryton assembly. Luckily, Elizabeth is an incredibly smart woman, who doesn't fall for it and immediately calls him out on his behaviour in a way that he has never experienced before. As she should!

[bunnieswithknives]

hey in ur peri animatic: (https://youtu.be/OCqlRuDaXYU?si=K52WDu_vw9rg7chz) that I have been permanently obsessed over since today and have watched about 20 times by now so much that I have drawn & posted stuff based on it what was that partial bug form peri had?

I haven’t watched either of the show btw so if it’s explained in the show please tell me plsssss

OK, SO the bug thing is not technically canon to the series. It's based on my own headcanons for fairy biology, but i do have justifications for it!! Fairies have very strong shape-shifting abilities, so it would make sense that the form they show to humans isn't necessarily their true form(not to mention extreme that mimicry is very common in insects). And you want to know the visible traits almost every fairy has in common? Being very small with Insect-like wings.

The fact that their humanoid form isn't their true form in actually confirmed in the show! Cosmo and Wanda are revealed to look like biblically accurate pseudo-angels in the museum episode. (I say pseudo angels because the Flaming Sword of Eden is only debatably sentient and I don't think is considered an angel. Ophanim are also debatably not angels because they don't have wings (sorry for the angel tangent I like angels))

So wouldn't their true forms be angelic then? Well, yes. But I like bugs so. Also I have more headcanons to justify myself. I like to think that they have both a true-true form (incomprehensible to the human brain, probably exists mostly in a dimension invisible to us, that looks how we imagine biblically accurate angels), and a fairy form (which is visible to humans but is naturally very insect like and tends to scare people). So, in order to interact with humans, they have to learn to shapeshift into a humanoid form but will occasionally slip if they get too relaxed/aren't careful, hence the mandibles coming out when he yawns!

The reason they struggle so much more with human forms than the animals or objects they typically turn into is that, well, they aren't trying to convince those animals or objects. The more human they try to look, the harder it is to keep up convincingly. If you turn into a really uncanny squirrel, only other squirrels will notice. If you turn into a really uncanny human, they form a lynch mob and burn you at the stake.

[starheirxero]

I felt the need to really go the extra mile to spread my "Ruin is objectum for arcade machines" truth, so here's an entire finished piece precisely for that <3

Note: PLEASE click and zoom in on the details I spent so much time on this LMAO

[ahollowgrave]

"Gotcha!" 📷

[third-king-of-salmonids]

TIDES OF MARCH THIS TIDES OF MARCH THAT

23 HITS TO TAKE DOWN A KING? MAYBE SEASER WAS JUST SHIT AT HIS JOB ACTUALLY? ANYWAY COULDNT BE ME

[theartsyhognose]

Happy ace week!!

[magpieddd]

”Is she the right target?”

[disaster-magician]

Here's a quick incorrect quote for Mother's Day! Good luck with all these problem mcs, Opal.

[zoieru]

Lost puppy ~

In an alternate universe where Shibuya didn't end quite like that, Jujutsu Tech have landed themselves a bit of a lost-puppy conundrum - what to do with a newly allied Choso Kamo.

a/n + c/w ~ assume that Shibuya was more of a lower level incident, in which all your faves are just a bit worse for wear (or not, meanie) and this is the calm after the storm :3. Reader (afab) is a high level sorcerer. Part one of ? Introduction 𖹭 essentially a series that'll explore different situations with a choso who is learning about normal human stuff. Romance incoming?? ;))

No manga spoilers. ~ 2.1k

Choso sat in the corner of the room, back straight, hands resting stiffly on his knees. The room buzzed with low but firm voices, the jujutsu sorcerers around him deep in serious discussion. He could feel their eyes on him. Brief, darting glances that just barely concealed their concern and unease, each one reminding him that - despite being an ally - he was still something to be watched. Managed. Controlled. He kept his own gaze fixed on the floor, the polished wood beneath him somehow more comforting than their watchful stares.

"He can’t stay at the school," one of them said, concern clear in their tone. He didn't bother looking up to see who. "It's too risky. And he’s… inexperienced with human society, on a functional level."

Inexperienced. Choso rolled his eyes in his head. They weren’t wrong. He had no real understanding of human customs, their way of life much beyond the battles he had fought against and alongside them. It's not as though Kenjaku was a real guiding figure for anything that wasn't needed for his plans. And the things Mahito attempted to amuse himself with Choso had mostly ignored unless it was of immediate interest, mind set on his one track goal. That world felt like a distant concept, one he turned down in favour of curses for his brothers, one he wasn’t sure he could ever fully grasp.

"He's not a threat, but we can't afford to ignore the possibility that things could go wrong if he's left unsupervised and unacquainted," another higher up added, his tone a touch...quickened, impatient perhaps?

Before he could stop himself, Choso's voice, low and calm, cut through the murmuring conversation. “I'm not interested in harming anyone,” he said, his gaze lifting to meet theirs through his eyelashes. It wasn’t a plea, or anything really, just a statement of fact. Not that it would have much sway. "Or being a burden. I don't really care where I go."

“It’s not about whether you mean to harm anyone, Choso,” the balding man responded, carefully. “It’s about what could happen if you don’t understand this world. Your intentions may be pure, but you’ve spent your incarnated life as a curse, among curses. There’s a learning curve.”

The idea of needing someone to guide him, to rely on someone, grated on his nerves. He'd spent his life being the guidance, being the older brother, he wasn't used to and didn't want to be guided like a lost child, despite his acknowledgement of his lack of experience. I just want them to get on with it, pick somewhere, so I can be in peace.

"So what are the options, then?" A new voice. One he recognised. Yours. You'd been the one to find him, back when he was in that dazed state in Shibuya on the platform, distraught after nearly killing Yuji. You'd been...nice, confusingly, and at the sound of your voice he felt a subtle tug of your tentative fragile connection pull at him a little, albeit reluctantly.

"We could send him to stay with a sorcerer," a woman offered, casting a sideways glance in Choso's direction over her glasses. "Someone who can keep an eye on him, relieve the school of the pressure, and teach him a thing or two while he's there."

Choso's fingers tensed against his knees. The idea of being pawned off on some sorcerer, having to answer to them… it wasn’t appealing, but he kept his expression neutral and rather bored. Stay quiet, I’ll take anything just to get out of this room.

"And who in the hell is going to do that?" A different man, an old eternally grumpy sort of face, spoke up, voice louder, more...grating. He seemed rather appalled at the idea. "You think any one of us is going to be fine with a curse wandering around in their house? For that suggestion to have any standing, the sorcerer would have to be semi-grade one at minimum, and they'll still be taking a significant risk. Not to mention the fact you're essentially tasked with teaching him how to be normal!"

"I'll do it."

Choso didn't have time to even inwardly react to his words before a voice cut the man's droning off. Your voice.

It seemed to come out of your mouth before you'd decided for it to. The way he spoke, calling Choso a curse, while not entirely wrong, pissed you off for some reason. Choso’s eyes widened slightly, the unexpectedness of it, the surprise that someone had volunteered to take on such a monumental task, that it was you who had volunteered to do it, hit him all at once. He turned his gaze to you, his own dark eyes meeting yours in an unspoken question, pulse beating loudly in his ears with hot blood. Why... Everyone's faces seemed even more shocked than he was, but his eyes remained on you.

"You'll....do it," the old man echoed in a sort of bewildered whisper, surprise clear in his tone as he met your eyes, the others in the room suddenly focused on you. "Are you sure?"

You sighed softly, eyes on the man asking. "My apartment is on the outskirts, so there isn't a massive population around. I have a spare room. And I could probably last maybe two minutes longer than the average sorcerer before he would kill me. It makes sense." you explained slowly. It was clear you didn't think he would. Kill you, that is.

Choso felt a strange flutter in his chest at your dry assessment of the situation. The way you attempted to rationalise it, logic and humour mixed up with the dire nature of the task at hand, made the corners of his lips twitch in the hint of what might have become a smirk if the circumstances were different. He found it surprising, if not...endearing, oddly, how you had a dry, dark sense of humour that matched his own far more than anyone else's he'd encountered yet.

The others in the room, however, seemed more concerned with your wellbeing, and now perhaps mental wellbeing, less so with the logistics of it. "You'd be alone with him," the previous balding man spoke, his voice heavy with worry, but there was a hint of something else under the surface, disdain perhaps. Disbelief that anyone would volunteer to take this on, to take him on, rather than being forced into it after endless logistical planning. Choso felt his jaw tick slightly.

"He's unstable," the man continued. "We don't fully understand the capacity of his cursed technique, or his impulses." His eyes met Choso's with open suspicion. "He's a cursed womb. It's unprecedented, unpredictable, dangerous. We can't guarantee your safety."

Choso watched your eyes finally meet his own, then, for the first time since you'd volunteered. His usually sleepy-bored gaze was more curious now behind the stoicism he wore like a mask. He watched your lips tickle into a slight smile as you looked back at the man who had addressed you. "I know," you said simply, shifting in your seat. "It doesn't sound like you have a better alternative, though. And like I said, I'm more likely to survive longer than two seconds if he decides to go all kooky on me, so I have the highest chance here to call for help. But he said he wont do that, so..."

The room fell silent at your simple words, the others exchanging quick glances with one another. Choso's gaze was on you, though, eyes widening slightly with a mix of surprise and...something else, he couldnt place it. He could have smiled. He had no intention of going 'kooky', as it were. But still... You think you could last against me long enough? You're funny.

"You trust his word, just like that?" The old grumpy man asked, incredulity clear in his tone. Choso wasn't sure what to make of it, but he realised he was starting to find the way you dealt with this quite amusing. He watched as you sighed again, almost seeming bored with the conversation as if they were dredging on with something much less than a potential life threatening scenario.

"He's sitting here, quietly, while we all discuss his fate like he's some rescued puppy waiting to be rehomed, when, really, he could just blow us all up and leave himself. That's good enough evidence to suggest to me that all he wants is to get outta here," you explained. It was clear in your voice that it wasn't quite boredom you were experiencing, but a slight grating of your nerves at the way this was being discussed as if he wasn't a person, or wasn't in the room, despite there not really being another way.

The others around the room seemed surprised by the logic, the calmness in your voice, but none more than Choso. The words struck a chord within him, they made sense. Maybe you're smarter than I gave you credit for. He watched you closely as you spoke, his sharp eyes taking everything in with slowly growing interest. The way your fingers played with your hair almost absent-mindedly, the slight shift of your eyes, the subtle movements he had started to register as signs you were more anxious than you were willingly letting on.

The man sighed, seeming to finally give up the fight. "You make a point," he said slowly, glancing at Choso as if to make a final assessment.

The others began to murmur in agreement, nodding and exchanging glances. No one else raised any protest, seemingly content with your reasoning. After a moment, the man looked back at you. "If you're comfortable with it, I suppose the matter is settled," he said, his tone resigned.

"No, ask him."

Choso's eyes shot back to you as you said that, another wave of shock washing over him. Ask...me? He hadn't really registered that they hadn't asked for his opinion on the turn of events, not expecting them to. But you...you seemed to care if they did?

The murmurs fell away as the focus shifted to Choso, all eyes fixed on him, waiting for his response. He could feel their gaze on him like a weight, their words echoing in his mind.

His gaze flicked to you once more, expression betraying nothing of his thoughts as he considered you quietly. He could already tell you were unlike anyone else in the room, the first person to actually care to hear his thoughts on the matter.

Choso cleared his throat, his voice a quiet murmur in the room. "I'm fine with it."

His answer was simple, straight to the point, the lack of hesitation surprising the others in the room, but he found himself almost amused as he saw a brief smile on the corner of your lips. You were expecting me to say no?

His eyes followed you upwards as you stood, your chest rising with a deep breath, hands slipping into your pockets. "Okay. Well...time to go shopping with the new puppy, I guess," you mused. He needed essentials after all. "Is there anything else to sort out?"

There was a hint of surprise in the room, the other sorcerers exchanging glances at your casual tone, and Choso suppressed a smirk. You obviously weren't overly happy with the way he was being treated, or at least the way this was handled, and he found he sort of...liked that. More so because he could tell it was irritating the others around the room.

The balding man cleared his throat. "No, that's all," he said slowly, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked between you and Choso. "Be careful."

As you stood up, signifying the end of the meeting, Choso pushed himself slowly to his feet. His eyes didn't leave you, taking in the way you stuffed your hands in your pockets, expression betraying none of the curiosity he felt, remaining neutral, bored even.

He gave a slight nod at the man's words, more out of respect than genuine regard for his warning. "I won't cause trouble," he said gruffly.

His feet carried him silently out of the room after you. He kept his eyes on you, studying your every movement as you walked, the tilt of your head as you checked your phone, the slight glance over your shoulder to see if he was following. He couldn't help but find the situation almost ironic, almost absurd. She's taking me shopping? Despite himself, he wanted to smile.

He wasn't privy to the thoughts flitting through your mind as the reality of the situation set in for you, now having time to settle after the droning bureaucracy. While you had put on a confident front, your actions also somewhat surprised yourself. Ultimately, a semi-sarcastic, resigned and amused sort of notion settled in your mind.

I've just...adopted a curse person. Cute.