#eating intuitively isn’t always ‘what my body wants it gets���

[shego1142]

I super recommend Colleen Christensen for more info on eating without food rules and eating intuitively!

Her videos are helping me unravel a lot of issues I have struggled with regarding food!

Just the simple act of not shaming yourself for craving and or eating specific foods can be so powerful and beneficial to your life/mental health (which in turn affects all of your health)

"craving a food means your body needs something that food can offer" now what the fuck does my body need with an ice cream

[meowdei]

“Did you know—”

“I don’t care,” Sukuna interrupts, wholly disinterested. It’s half past three—(which is, of course, his fault, but that doesn’t mean he’s any less tired).

But you, wholly uncaring, promptly ignore him. “—That some female spiders eat the male ones after mating?”

“What do you want me to do with this information?” He looks at you irritably, glaring at you from the corner of his eyes. You flash him a grin—it’s a mischievous little thing, your lips curled in a cheeky, flirty way that warns him silently that he’s about to risk popping another vein. He seems to do that around you quite often, and it certainly feels like it’s underway once more.

(And, as it always is, his intuition would be right).

“It’s a warning,” you hum.

He snorts, raising a clearly disbelieving brow as he hums, “oh yeah? For what? Are you gonna—wha-hey!”

Not a lot catches Sukuna off guard. You giggle as he barks out a surprised yelp of your name, harshly shoving you away from his chest. There’s a nice, fresh, very crystal and very clear outline of your teeth marked right on the flesh surrounding his nipple.

He looks at you like you’ve lost your mind.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He asks incredulously.

You let out a soft, amused little giggle that sounds through the room before he feels your weight shift and fall onto him, making him grunt as his arms steady you and his eyes stare up at your hovering face with an agitated purse of his lips.

“I’m eating you,” you say cheekily, “see?” For emphasis, you leave an equally as shocking bite to his bicep, your head leaning down to get a mouthful of his bare arm. He lets out a low, startled grunt before one large and very firm hand grabs the back of your neck and yanks you off.

“Have you completely lost it?” He hisses.

“We just mated—”

“Who on Earth talks about sex like that? We are not animals who—”

“—And now I’m going to eat you after mating. Like a female spider.”

“If you’re going to be weird, just go the fuck to sleep,” he grumbles lowly.

Sukuna is tired.

(And yes, the reason is partly because he’s a bit inexhaustible once he’s felt the velvet heat of your walls, and yes, it’s technically his own greediness that’s worn him out so physically for the night. But that’s all been the cost for something of greater benefit to him. Something he doesn’t exactly mind draining his energy for.

Bur your odd, unsettling, abnormal and very plainly weird schemes are not a part of the list of things he’s willing to sacrifice his energy for. There isn’t much pleasure in entertaining your nonsense most of the time.

If anything, there’s pain—the stinging bite marks on his skin can attest to that.)

“I’m not tired,” you hum.

“Then let me make you tired,” he offers smugly, lips tugging into a cocky grin as he looks up at you.

“If you didn’t manage that the first time, what makes you think that’ll work the second?” You tease.

He doesn’t seem to like that very much, because with a growl, he pushes the back of your neck until your face falls into the crook of his neck, a strong, bulky arm wrapping around your waist and keeping you in place against his body.

It’d be awfully intimate, and awfully sweet if he didn’t mumble, “I love when you sleep because it’s the only few hours of the day I get to hear you shut the fuck up.”

“Maybe if you’d just appreciated my fun fact—”

“You bit my fucking nipple.”

“I could bite the other one, too, if you want,” you pipe up with an excited grin. He can feel it pressed against his skin as your face buries deeper into the space between his neck and shoulder.

Sukuna is tired. Most of the time, it’s because of you. All of the time, he chooses to allow it because he likes having you around for a good fuck.

(And, of course, there’s all that bullshit about love and affection, too. But that’s just that odd stuff you like to babble about—that odd, unsettling, abnormal and very plainly weird emotional part of you that somehow ropes him into being the same way every once in a while.

He doesn’t like it.)

“You need a lobotomy,” he mutters, wincing when you bite the skin of his neck in response. Not in a manner he likes, either—very much in a manner that makes sure he feels the sharpness of your incisors.

“Don’t be rude,” you scold, “I’m biologically meant to be your predator.”

“You biologically give me fuckin’ migraines.”

You grin—it’s a smile that’s easy. Smooth. Maybe a little giddy, too. It comes out only around Sukuna. Him and his gruff, rugged way of accepting your affection, and his double as rough and crude way of giving it back. His callused hands and toughened knuckles that brush along your cheeks carefully. His crass and undignified words that are carefully thought out enough to never cross the line. His downturned lips and narrowed eyes that only ever soften at the sharp corners around you.

“Next time, I’ll eat you for sure,” you murmur, settling against his chest and getting comfortable. He wraps both arms around you, warm and tight enough that you almost think you can forgo the blanket altogether. “Assert my dominance.”

“You can’t even open the pickle jar.”

“That’s different.”

“It’s only a matter of time until natural selection gets you,” he snickers quietly. You huff, biting back a smile as he yawns.

Gently, with a kiss over the bite mark you left against his neck, you say softly, “goodnight. Love you.”

“Night.”

“I love you.”

“For the love of—love you too, holy fuck. Go to sleep.”

[mxrcurysb1tch]

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Astrology 🐉observations pt. IV ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

: ̗̀➛ Gemini moons are super intelligent and generally study maths or engineering. They’re also super good at getting stuff done even though they never seem to ever be actually working? It’s like a talent.

: ̗̀➛ Ever wonder how someone can think a certain way and yet speak in a totally different way? They likely have their moon and mercury in completely different signs. For example, I’m a Capricorn moon with a Leo Mercury and while I am generally very hard on myself and sometimes pessimistic, it sometimes comes out as me appearing overly confident or self obsessed even though I feel anything but that. Another example is, a Gemini moon I know, he is always overthinking in his mind, feels anxious or flighty but his speech is very calm and levelled, since he is a Capricorn Mercury. This can sometimes lead to frustration especially if Mercury is debilitated or retrograde. People with complimentary or the same moon and mercury sign might have a more congruent way of expressing themselves and because they are sure of their convictions, many people may listen to them and respect them.

: ̗̀➛ Mars and Mercury conjunctions make someone very good at insults or even verbal aggression, depending on the sign/house and other placements. Their humour is likely to be playfully making fun of people or even themselves. They may be witty with it too. When it comes to arguments they always know exactly what to say to win.

: ̗̀➛ Virgo placements especially rising, sun and mars have a tendency to be very connected to their bodies, and even hyper aware of the processes going on inside them. They’re not usually the types to forget to eat or rest. Not because they know better (but let’s face it they usually do) but simply because they feel their internal sensations so strongly. It can also sometimes develop into psycho-somatic conditions or health anxiety if it is too pronounced.

: ̗̀➛ Having multiple detriment placements (especially if you also have no domiciles and if Saturn is involved) can make the native feel like they have to work super hard at everything they do and like nothing comes naturally to them. They might feel like they aren’t talented or gifted in any way or that they weren’t blessed in life like other people are. This usually isn’t true though, what these natives need is a bit of self belief and self love.

: ̗̀➛ Meeting someone with the same moon sign as you is an elite experience. You might just feel connected to them in some way and just intuitively understand each other. Of course it will depend on their other placements too, but usually you guys will feel like you just “get each other” This is because you won’t have to explain to them why you feel a certain way or modify your expression in order to relate to them on a deeper level. My childhood best friend has the same moon sign as me and I have always felt like we are platonic soulmates.

: ̗̀➛ Whichever house you have Scorpio in can show where/what in your life you are most secretive about. For example, if you have Scorpio in your 2nd house you might be very secretive about your money, home or possessions. You might not want people to know how you earn money/how much you earn or you might not like having people come over to your house. If you have Scorpio in the 7th house you might be secretive about your relationships, you might engage in a lot of clandestine flings or affairs.

: ̗̀➛ People with the same sun as their rising feel so warm and genuine, what you see is what you get. They’re usually super confident in their own skin. They can’t help but be transparent and bare their souls to you. The degree to which will depend on the sign, of course. However, People with the same moon as their rising might feel overexposed and vulnerable. They usually have a more quiet presence, or always look like they’re sad or far away. They’re usually lost in thought or emotion though as they can’t help but be forced to examine their inner world in excruciating details.

[ryukatters]

drunk in love — s. gojo ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊

⟡ summary: you walk gojo back to his dorm after a night of drinking

⟡ pairing: satoru gojo x gn!reader

⟡ content/warnings: major fluff, underage alcohol consumption, boyfailure gojo, gojo calls reader pretty, mutual pining, drunken confessions, kiss kiss fall in love

⟡ wc: 1.4k

Satoru’s never been great at holding his alcohol.

The first time he got drunk was in secret inside of Suguru’s dorm room, late at night to ensure that there weren’t any teachers (read: Yaga) lingering in the hallway past curfew. His teacher did always seem to have some sort of divine intuition whenever it came to Satoru’s antics.

He had taken one shot and subsequently spat it all out onto the floor.

Satoru’s gotten better at handling his liquor, but he’s still very much a lightweight. That isn’t enough to deter him from refusing any shots Shoko or Suguru throw his way though, which probably isn't a great idea seeing how wasted your friends were. Which is surprising, because they tend to be a little better at handling their alcohol than Satoru. Chalk it up to wanting to celebrate for making it to the end of the school year.

It’s you who’s left to play damage control, considering how you were the only one still standing as the rest of your friends were all passed out on the cold hardwood floor of Shoko’s dorm, aside from one other person who’s currently gripping your leg, staring up at you, pleading like a kicked puppy.

Satoru was just as annoying if not more so when intoxicated. He couldn’t possibly sleep on the cold, hard, wooden floors…

…which is how you end up walking Gojo back to his dorm room. Though walking would be a very generous term, seeing how he’s using you as a human crutch, leaning most of his weight onto you as you struggle to keep the two of you balanced.

You try to usher Gojo onto his bed gently, but the boy seems to be too out of his wits to even do that properly. He unceremoniously flops onto his bed with a thud, banging his head against the wall in the process.

“Owww,” he clutches his head, pouting.

“That’s what you get,” you laugh.

“You’re mean.”

“Mean? I brought you all the way back here when I could have just let you sleep on the floor. That sounds pretty nice to me.”

His bottom lip juts out even further, much to your amusement. His sunglasses are hanging off the bridge of his nose, lopsided. You reach out to place them on his nightstand. His warm hand envelops your wrist before you can draw back, and brings your hand to cup his cheek. Maybe it’s alcohol and your decreased inhibition, or maybe its your own volition, but you can’t find it in you to pull away. You stroke your thumb against his pale, plush cheek, admiring the dimple that likes to make itself known when he smiles, just like he is right now.

Satoru runs warm. You’d think for someone with such an icy appearance and a reputation for being a cold-blooded sorcerer, his body temperature would follow suit. Maybe it’s because that frigidness is Gojo, the strongest, the honored one, and all the epithets that have burdened his shoulders from the minute he was born. But here, with you, he’s just Satoru— a boy with the brightest smile you’ve ever seen, who can’t shoot whiskey, and loves his friends endlessly.

“My head hurts,” he whines.

“Oh, you poor baby,” you faux coo, rubbing your hand against the sore spot that will definitely have a lump tomorrow. Satoru eats it up though, melting into your touch. He’s even clingier when he’s drunk, you realize. Cute, you might even add. But the thought leaves just as soon as it comes. You’re a lot less sober than you thought you were.

Gojo’s voice pulls you out of your drunken daze. “Can you kiss it better f’me?”

“What?”

“Can you kiss…kiss me instead? So it doesn’t hurt anymore?” He slurs.

“Satoru, you’re too drunk.”

“‘m not!” Whatever defense he has for himself fails as a hiccup escapes past his lips. For a second, you think he might fall asleep like this, leaning into you. But then his eyes snap back open with a determined glint.

“Wan’…wanna kiss youuu,” he closes his eyes and puckers his lips, waiting for you to close the gap.

“Satoru…”

Where do you even start? You thought you’d be okay ignoring the budding feeling in your chest that consumes you most days you’re with the white-haired sorcerer. Deflection is the only way you know how to avoid acknowledging whatever this was. And it’s been working, sort of. “You can’t kiss someone you don’t like.”

He pouts even harder at that. “I like someone! I like you,” he says adamantly. “Like, like-like you.”

“Like-like? What are we, in kindergarten?”

You try your best to redirect the conversation, you don’t think you’re ready to face the implications of the fact that one of your best friends has feelings for you. Mutual feelings, you might add— the same feelings that have been eating away at you for months now, and the same feelings you’ve elected to ignore.

He pouts for the umpteenth time tonight before he lets out a huff, falling back onto the mattress. He props himself up on a pillow, peering at you curiously. It’s almost like you can see the gears turn in his head when he smiles deviously, both of his freakishly long arms reaching out to wrap around your waist and bring you flush against him.

You can feel the hot puffs of his breath, and you will yourself to look at him. Satoru’s eyes have always been so easy to get lost in.

He breathes out your name, sickeningly sweet. “I really do like you. You’re so pretty and strong and smart— it drives me a little crazy.” Your head is spinning, and the innate urge to run like you’ve been doing all this time sparks through you, but the grip that Satoru has on you is too strong. “Want you to like me back, I’ll do anything,” he says honestly.

Gojo’s good at the chase, and you’re something he’s in for the long run. You can run and run until there’s nowhere else to go, until your legs refuse to carry you a step further. He’ll always be there to catch you.

His hand traces delicate patterns along the side of your neck, still a bit too far gone to notice how your breath hitches. “I’ll buy you whatever you want, I’ll get you a big house and we can live together forever. I’ll take care of you, do whatever you want. I’ll be so good to you. For you.”

You’re stunned into silence. Your heart is threatening to leap out of your chest. It melts when you look at Satoru, who’s looking at you with all the hope in the world. The moonlight seeping through the blinds of his window casts the most intricate waves of light, illuminating Satoru’s features perfectly.

Satoru thinks he’s holding the world in his arms right now. He’s preparing himself for rejection, but it’s alright, he thinks— because he’s good at everything he tries and he’s willing to try and try again and again for you, just for the chance to be yours.

“Tell me that again in the morning when you’re sober,” you whisper, as if you’re afraid someone else could hear you within the confines of Satoru’s room. Like the weight of your words were a secret you couldn’t bear to let anyone else in on, except for one person— your one and only.

You take a leap of faith. You plant your hands on his chest to steady yourself, placing a chaste kiss on Satoru’s forehead— a symbol of assurance of your love for him— something that’s been a part of you from the very moment you met him.

Satoru’s heart squeezes in anticipation. He hugs you even tighter, laughing at the yelp of surprise you let out. He has never felt as more of a winner than he does right now. “I’ll tell you everything sober or drunk,” he promises, unable to contain his giddiness as you (finally!) let him pepper kisses all over your face.

“Everything, as long as it’s with you.”

a/n: gojo can not handle hard liquor so he’s drunk off of some (shots of) smirnoff ice 😎

[burningveritas]

MISCELLANEOUS GENSHIN HEADCANONS

☆彡 characters (in order): raiden, childe, wriothesley, sucrose, zhongli, hu tao, furina ☆彡 content: childe being a weirdo (affectionate); animal parts (sucrose); autism (zhongli); getting in trouble with the law (hu tao); may be ooc but this was all for fun so don’t take it too seriously ☆彡 word count: 0.8k

the RAIDEN SHOGUN’S body was made to be resistant to erosion. this immunity makes her incapable of deteriorating in any way, to ensure that even as her consciousness fades, her physical body and ideals will not. while it used to mean that she had no need to eat food, now it also means that she can’t get cavities !! ever !!!

this is a massive win for EI, naturally, and figuring this out enables her to gouge on all the sugary foods she pleases. the shogun is not very happy with this and they have to duke it out in her plane of euthymia again.

i think it would be really funny if CHILDE needed glasses. all those years of sitting out on the ice to fish had let the sun reflect onto the ice and laser into his very lovely (his mom’s words) eyes. he doesn’t realize that slightly blurry vision isn’t normal until he sneaks a try on pantalone’s glasses for fun and goes “wait were those elemental-powered light fixtures always shaped like little candles”

it solves years of struggling at the bow because he can finally see where he’s aiming now!! and it turns out that he’s been locating his targets with echolocation and intuition, which is insanely impressive and also what ???

WRIOTHESLEY’S favorite part about going up to the surface is the fact that he’ll never get recognized. he’ll do things he wouldn’t normally do, like pick a bouquet or indulge in his sweet tooth. he takes each time to sniff each flower in the shop and make a nice arrangement, even finishing it off with a lovely yellow bow. his voice is uncharacteristically soft as he speaks to the cashier.

he’ll pick up a pastry from the cafe, sweeter than anything in the fortress, and munches on it as he skims through a copy of the steambird.

once he knows it’s time, he’ll buy another pastry for the melusine standing guard outside the cafe, drop off the bouquet at mr. callas’s grave, and return to his duties.

also he’s allergic to blueberries lol i wanted to debuff him somehow

SUCROSE loves teeth. they tell so much about an animal, she’d tell albedo for the 50th time that month as she adds a tooth of a consecrated fanged beast to her collection. its diet, its self-defense mechanisms, its communication—even the type of environment it thrives in compared to others of the same species. she labels each tooth in alphabetical order of the scientific name of the animal it belongs to.

if she can’t easily find out what animal the tooth belongs to, she puts any investigation knowledge she picked up from albedo to good use. she will always find the source of that tooth, no matter how long it takes.

now i already know that ZHONGLI loves squares but what if his whole house is squares. his square cups and square plates are canon, so what if also square sink. square doorknobs. square light fixtures. the patterns on his floor are square. he commissions someone to make square hangers. he cuts meat into perfect cubes—shapes his potatoes and eggs into cubes, even—before he cooks it. he has a glass case where he shows off particularly square stones he finds on his walks.

his friends come over and he’s happy to have them !! then he offers them square slippers and tea from his oddly cubical teapot

i believe that HU TAO has gotten arrested at some point. it was for something childish, too—scaring a neighbor so bad that he screamed for help and the millelith thought he was in genuine trouble. she’s about to be fined for disturbing the peace, but she resists and promptly gets arrested. her energy, however, remains. my girl brings a light to jail that astounds every officer around and somehow sets up an impromptu performance with the other inmates. it’s a very fun time for everyone, and she somehow gets let out early.

no one in her life knows this has happened until she casually drops it in the middle of a conversation. her friends just have to grapple with the fact that she resisted arrest?? isn’t that ?? a felony?????

FURINA’S latest obsession is inazuman light novels. as much as she loves a gripping mystery or a compelling social commentary, sometimes she doesn’t want to think while she reads. she’ll be at the bookstore, a pile of cookbooks, thrillers, and dramas in her basket, and she passes by a shelf she’d never seen before. she remembers, vaguely, of a dignified inazuman official meeting up with neuvillette to discuss a cultural exchange; this must be what it is. just one wouldn’t hurt, she relents as she picks the one with the longest, most complicated title.

after a nice, self-cooked dinner, she curls up on her couch and cracks the novel open. the premise is more nonsensical than she’s used to and and the execution is admittedly average, but she finds herself laughing and staying up much later than she expected. eventually, she has a shelf dedicated to light novels, and she makes plans to visit next year’s irodori festival.

[bcnooneasked]

08-31-2024 - 9:40pm - it’s hard to call anyone who is struggling with their weight well adjusted, right?

i mean this in not even a fat shaming way, but in a “when my life falls apart i also turn to food” kinda-way.

like america is such a pathetic land of overconsumption and obesity. the irch are not eating the food they provide - well if you can even call it that. the processed food-like slop they package and ship our way.

whenever one can not feed themselves healthy food regularly it should be looked at as a sign of bad mental health. a self-medicating and coping mechanism red flag.

i mean we are all isolated from each other, isolated from families (some of us), and what better way to increase profits? to make sure to normalize living alone.

i saw this youtube video on how little expensive $20 treats are now the norm because of the economy and how people my age (millennial and younger) can no longer afford buying homes. so we turn to $20 erewhon smoothies or a $12 pastry. like some of us can’t even travel. don’t even get me started on travel… i really can’t believe my 20’s were telling myself i was making all these sacrifices so i could accomplish my dreams only to never travel and also not accomplish my dreams (yet).

back to food.

i was finally losing weight and gaining muscle again (because i now have enough money for protein) and then my mind and body gets out of whack because i’m struggling financially. the job i got that was supposed to be full time is no longer full time simply because in the time they hired me they ended up cutting hours and a month into this job they are also already cutting hours again.

i don’t know what to do. i just want to self-medicate. i just want to numb, have one moment of joy to only have my stomach hurt moments later due to my autoimmune issues. i of course don’t want to a) hurt my stomach or b) be fat or c) not solve the problem but boy oh boy it’s so hard right now.

i feel my entire life since 2020 been dragging me down. i don’t know when i got to be happy last or just feel solid and good in myself. i want to be excellent i want to be prosperous and even more i want to do it in a way that i can feel good about.

yet, i look and i see how happy an ex is doing everything but respecting his vessel, taking on every kind of energy, and being exactly the kind of person i knew him to be and why we broke up and he is doing relatively well from the exterior - yes, its instagram or in his case porn but at least he is still with the person he used to quickly replace the void i left in his life - i mean he isn’t that smart or intuitive so is it really that hard to even be happy?

i feel mean when i say those things a bit - but he really hurt me. i think there is this level of consciousness i have that i wouldn’t wish on anyone - crippling self-awareness to almost a point of paranoia. well sometimes. it’s usually beneficial.

i mean i think if i just had support. a little guidance. a lot of love. some chosen family… i just feel like my potential and who i am has been mishandled my entire life. i grasp all around to find a helping hand and either i find one and it’s critical conditional love, not consistent love, or not healthy. i mean i still on a daily basis am struggling with the understanding of being groomed.

sugar daddy has made so much of my reality possible at least on a foundational/financial level but emotional support? baby the irs would be calling it’s been that much a scam. money doesn’t equal love. money doesn’t equal effort.

i just want to be able to feel safe and regulated and be thriving without doing anything unhealthily. not overeating, overspending, over-sexing - anything. i just know i need to trust and give it all to god, but its such a hard thing feeling connected to that voice in your head when you’ve survived by overthinking your way through your problems and not just giving thingd to god - its been and always been too much to hold on your/my own shoulders.

[forspringtocome]

i’m back on my “everyone please read Intuitive Eating by Evelyn Tribole and Elyse Resch” kick in full force. i feel like i don’t see enough justice done when people recommend this book, and too often it ends up being made out as another “take a hot bath and love yourself babe” self help book. and that couldn’t be further from the truth??

so here’s my sparkling love letter and glowing endorsement of Intuitive Eating - and WHY below. if you’re a science lover or big into deconstructing and unlearning colonial standards of health and beauty please read my rambling i’m on my knees

Intuitive Eating has become a cornerstone text in an entire specialty within dietetics and nutrition. this is a book that is regularly used in treatment for eating disorders both inpatient and outpatient. it has not only inspired, but been the basis for a wealth of peer reviewed academic studies that have given us valuable quantitative and qualitative data regarding topics that had been previously overlooked entirely.

the book, especially later editions, heavily references various different studies throughout the entire text. it references other valuable books within the sphere of intuitive eating, anti-diet culture, and body acceptance. it doesn’t shy away from discussing the deeper, more complex elements that play into all of this - gender bias, sexism, racism, Western ideals, etc. it acknowledges what areas are lacking in research, while drawing reasonable inference from areas where we do have a stronger basis of concrete research. it’s also worth noting that they draw on research done that isn’t directly related to the framework of intuitive eating, but speaks to various markers that are pinnacle to this discussion regarding a variety of topics.

the authors are both highly respected registered dietitians with masters degrees in their field (which is now a requirement for becoming an RDN, but that was implemented within the last 5 years and the first edition of this book came out 19 years ago).

yes. this is absolutely a book that is meant to be used to unpack the messaging learned from diet culture, and to learn how to become an intuitive eater. but this is a research based structure, and the very same methodology as is used by clinicians. and even with the wealth of research and information packed into it, it’s beautifully written in a way that is highly understandable and relatable even if you have absolutely no basis in reading a digesting academic research. every single therapist and dietitian i have seen, in treatment and outpatient, people i have seen for my own treatment and people who focus more heavily on public education - this will always be the one book that every single one will tell you to read. it’s the basis and foundation for almost everything that we know and understand, and it has only grown as time and research have expanded on the knowledge it had originally contained.

it will not shy away from giving you further reading recommendations - from research papers and studies, to other books by different authors - without the authors getting any financial kickback from this. it doesn’t want to be the only source of information to people who decide to become intuitive eaters - in fact it is very much opposed to the idea of there being one true text. but it still understands that it’s going to continue to serve as the cornerstone text, and it handles that place and that responsibility in an incredibly ethical way.

i need y’all to know when i’m up on my fucking “READ THIS BOOK” horse - its not some cheesy, shallow, self help book that “absolutely change my life and y’all should really pay for this workshop and-”. it’s a deeply academic text made readable to the masses, that beautifully deconstructs generations of harmful misinformation regarding health and nutrition, and played one of the largest roles in constructing a framework to help people get back to a relationship with food and with their body that we all had at birth, but that was stripped away from us by diet culture and western health and beauty ideals. Tribole and Resch have said it before and they’ll say it again, in a perfect world it wouldn’t be called intuitive eating - it would just be called eating.

[lets-talk-spirituality]

Need some advice if you’re feeling up to it. I overheard my friends commenting on my appearance, while they were well aware that I have been trying to lose weight and it made me so sad. I wouldn’t have minded if they had just been curious and asked me questions about it if it was that pressing to them, but what they don’t know is that I have a medical condition that makes it very difficult to metabolize and I’ve been doing my best. Just hurt my soul to hear the comments come from people I cared about. What do I do?

I think if you value these friends and truly believe they value you, you should talk to them. Maybe write it out if you need to send it as a letter. I know I’m better in written words sometimes.

Expressing your hurt to them can be vulnerable but also they don’t know you are hurt if you don’t tell them. Also not telling them prevents them the opportunity to learn from the experience. Maybe you expressing your pain at their words teaches them a lesson and helps them become more empathetic.

I think it’s important to examine your own pain. I’ve struggled with my body and weight my whole life. So I really do understand what you’re struggling with. My struggle with weight was tied to mental health issues, hormones and a lot of trauma I went through. I imagine it feels really out of your control with your condition and that it probably makes you feel defeated and frustrated that your body won’t just do what you want. I think you should examine what that pain is telling you. Is it part of a bigger wound? For me, my body image is tied to my feelings of not being good enough to be loved. So when I have thoughts about my weight I know it comes from the real wound. Identifying the underlying wound can help you be nicer to yourself. I’m much less horrible to my body now because I’m like it’s not my body that makes me unlovable. It’s not my body that makes me not good enough because I already am. It’s not easy to fight your mind but it does get easier when you stop blaming your body for other wounds.

I think too, examining how you care for yourself. Like for me, I did struggle with exercising unhealthily because it helped with my mental so much (I used to workout twice a day for hours even injured. Not great.) but I always felt better about my body when working out. Exercise is not about aesthetics for me, it’s much more about connecting to your body, and challenging your physical abilities. It can feel really good when you notice exercises becoming easier or you’re better at something. Like I did this hike months ago, before I did Pilates, and I was dying. Recently, it was a lot easier and that was awesome to feel and see that progress! To feel my body being stronger. Maybe you can try to use exercise this way too, because honestly it’s helped me with my relationship with my body so much. I see us more as a team and less as this rejected part of me that I abuse. I feel more connected and grounded in my body than I ever have.

I feel the same about eating. I think eating well is important but also eating what you want matters too. I hope you aren’t going to any extremes to try to fit an ideal. I fought my body for years trying to be an ideal and it was brutal. I think trying to connect with your body as it is is so critical. Learning how to talk and listen to it again. So now I try to eat more intuitively, based on what sounds good and what my body wants. I also eat a lot less eating intuitively and I’m actually at the lowest weight I’ve ever been and maintaining it. And I don’t eat the best always. I eat out a lot.

I think sometimes our bodies carry extra weight because it’s protecting itself from our own self critique. So I think healing that can help your body release weight. And idk about your condition but I did have PCOS and I was able to heal a lot of the issues from that disease by losing weight (something that’s really hard to do with that condition). So maybe this isn’t a condition you’ll always have. Maybe this condition is giving you this chance to work on your relationship with your body.

Also I’m not trying to suggest at all that you should be losing weight or trying to. I’m just sharing about my journey with my weight and body. I don’t think you should feel like you need to lose weight to be accepted. I’m just suggesting and sharing what helped me become healthier in my relationship with my body.

I’m really sorry your friends hurt you that way. And maybe it was coming from true concern. My sister recently has been gaining a lot of weight because of hormonal and mental health issues and we talk about it because I care. I didn’t know that’s why she was gaining weight. I don’t know what they said, but sometimes people do say painful things but their intentions aren’t necessarily to hurt you.

I really hope any of this helps you. I love you and I’m sending you some of the cocky energy I’ve recently been feeling deeply. You’re a goddess and emperor and a powerful badass human. It’s crazy what your body can do. Finding gratitude for what you body does accomplish can be so helpful as well. We’re all sending you good vibes ✨💕

[wonderlandleighleigh]

Tilting at Wind Mills

(Yes I know Bucky isn’t Jewish in the movies. No, I don’t care, he’s Jewish in every fic I write lol)

MCU/Mrs. Maisel Crossover.

1941

"I just don't see why I can't come with," Steve complains as he watches his friend get dressed up. "I'd be respectful."

"Because you can't fast," Bucky reminds him. "Yom Kippur is the one where you can't eat, remember? You'd black out in synagogue." 

Steve sighs. "Bring me leftovers from the break fast?" 

Bucky grins. "That I can do. Okay. Off to the Upper West Side I go. Wish me luck. Maybe I'll meet a rich, pretty girl."

It earns him an eye roll. "Leave."

He does. 

*****

He steps up in front of the ornate apartment building and adjusts his tie as his sister steps up to join him. 

"Ready for a fun-filled day of atonement with the family who has no idea what to do with us?" Ricky Barnes asks teasingly. 

"An entire day with the Sackville-Weissman's," Bucky jokes. 

Ricky rolls her eyes. "You and your Tolkein."

"If you'd just give it a chance-"

"Are you two going to come upstairs and join us?" 

It's a familiar voice. Tired and elderly, but infused with warmth, and soon both of them are wrapped in the arms of their grandfather. 

"Hi, Zeyde," they chorus. 

He chuckles. "Hello, kinder. I was just taking a walk. Getting away from the chaos of trying to convince Noah that God doesn't want him to eat today."

Bucky chuckles. "Every year with that kid." 

Chaim Weissman looks them both over critically. "You both look good. Strong. I was worried after your mother passed last year…"

"We're not that far away to check on, Zeyde," Ricky reminds him carefully. 

"That's on me," he admits. "Brooklyn is full of memories. I miss your mother very much. I never dreamed outliving one of my children." 

Bucky squeezes the man's shoulder. "Let's go check on Uncle Abe. See if he's blown a gasket yet."

*****

Services are long, and Bucky is hungry but he's got an eight-year-old girl cousin who is funny and they make dumb faces at each other when no one is looking. 

Noah and Midge are significantly younger than Bucky, but it's kind of nice. Noah is twelve and too smart. Midge, the aforementioned eight and funny and intuitive. 

Bucky isn't comfortable with his uncle and aunt's wealth (adding Sackville to the front of their name isn't a total joke), but he loves seeing his cousins and grandfather. 

These dinners used to end in arguments, before Bucky's mother passed away. About family responsibility. About money. About the fact that the Weissman's have quite a lot, while the Barnes branch rarely had enough (mostly due to Bucky and Ricky's father magically disappearing back in 37).

"You know, James," Aunt Rose tells him at break fast as their housekeeper (fuck, seriously?) serves the food. "There are some lovely girls I could introduce you to."

Zeyde tries not to roll his eyes. 

"I'm good, thank you," Bucky assures her. "I'm not really ready to settle down." 

"Of course not," Uncle Abe agrees. "He's young, Rose. He's sowing his oats." 

"And we’re likely going to war soon," Zeyde chimes in. "James is strong. They'll want him to fight." 

Midge taps him on the shoulder from next to him at the table and Bucky leans down to listen as she whispers in his ear. 

"Don't die, or I'll find you in the afterlife and give you a wedgie."

Bucky laughs and wraps her in his big arms, giving her a tight hug. "Okay, Midge. You got it." 

*****

1945

At thirteen, Miriam Weissman attends her first funeral. 

There's no body to bury, so it's really just a memorial for her cousin. 

Bucky was always nice to her. Good natured and charming. Quick-witted. On Hanukkah when she was six, he taught her to make potato knish from scratch while Zeyde critiqued from the kitchen table. 

"No side seat cooking," Bucky had joked. "You wanna teach her, you come over and teach her." 

There's a handsome blonde man -Captain America - speaking to the congregation about her cousin. About what kind of man he was, and it all rings true. 

Midge remembers Steve. He used to come with Bucky to dinners sometimes. Small. Always polite. When she was little, he drew her a pretty picture of a flower that she still has framed on her wall. 

He looks so deeply sad, and Midge looks at her hands to avoid crying. 

Captain America dies not long after Bucky does. 

She pulls the picture he drew off her wall and stows it away. 

****

1950

Just before he passes away, Chaim Weissman promises his pretty granddaughter he'll make good on that wedgie when he catches up to James in the afterlife. 

Midge laughs and cries at that. 

*****

November, 1954 

“Congratulations,” a soft voice says. The accent is British, and Midge frowns as she turns her head. 

She gave birth to her first child just a few hours ago, and she’s exhausted, so she’s not even sure if this is real, but there, sitting next to her is a beautiful woman. Brown hair. Brown eyes. Dressed in a sharp skirt suit. 

“Thanks?” Midge tries, blinking rapidly.  

The woman smiles. “We haven’t met. My name is Peggy Carter. I worked with your cousin, Sergeant Barnes and his friend, Captain Rogers.” 

Midge blinks rapidly, looking surprised. “I…did you find something? Did you find-” 

Peggy reaches out then, placing a hand on Midge’s. “I’m sorry. No. That isn’t why I’m here. I’m here to ask for your help.” 

“Me?” Midge asks. 

Peggy nods. “My agency has multiple operatives who work under deep cover,” she explains. “It’s very dangerous. It’s very isolating. It’s difficult for them, at times, to keep their humanity intact. Bucky spoke fondly of you. That you were his favorite cousin. I know that you’ll be busy with your new addition for a while. But after…I was wondering if I could send them your way for a warm meal every now and then.” 

Midge bites her lip. 

“You won’t be involved in anything they’re doing,” Peggy promises. “You won’t be asked to carry secrets. They’ll be sent in under the guise of old friends of your cousin’s. And in quite a few cases, it won’t be a lie. Just dinner.” 

Midge thinks about that for a moment. About how she wishes she could make knish with her favorite cousin again. 

And she nods. “Give me a few months to get this motherhood thing under control, and then send ‘em my way.” 

Peggy smiles at her. “You’ll get forty-eight hours warning each time. Expect a call in six months.” 

“Your friends better be ready for the best meal of their lives,” Midge smirks. 

The older woman chuckles as she gets to her feet. “You are very related to James Barnes.” 

“Damn right.” 

*****

1955 

“Who’s coming over for dinner?” Joel asks. 

Midge smiles. “Just an old friend of my cousin’s.” 

“And his name is Dum-Dum?” Joel scoffs. “What the fuck kinda name is that?” 

Midge shrugs and smiles wider. 

***** 

December 1957

At eight months pregnant with baby number two, Midge knows she shouldn't be running around late at night, but she forgot the extra potatoes for the knish tomorrow and she can't sleep anyway, so she finds herself at a corner market. 

There's only one other shopper this late and he's a big man in a bulky coat, gathering pears into a bag. 

There's something unsettling about the man. And familiar. 

"Late night snack?" She asks. 

He glances at her. 

"I forgot the potatoes for the knish. My husband hates them but I love them." 

Still no answer, but he becomes more familiar the more she looks at him. 

Midge tilts her head. "You remind me of someone." 

He drops his pears and storms out.

She frowns down at them, laying on the floor, the only evidence the man was ever there at all. 

*****

1964

Lenny Bruce loves his second wife but some fucking times he is very confused by her. 

Like now. 

He's hanging out with her on tour in California. It's late. He's tired. But he's chasing after her as her heels click quickly down the street. 

"Midge-"

"Saw a ghost!"

"Midge, for christ sake, what does that even mean?" 

"What do you mean what does that mean? It means I saw a ghost."

"Friend or foe?" Lenny asks. 

"Family."

"So both."

She stops and frowns as she looks around the empty LA street. "I could have sworn…" 

Lenny catches up, taking her hand and giving her a gentle tug. "Midge, talk to me."

Midge bites her lip, looking around and then back at him. "I had a cousin die in action in 45."

Lenny frowns. "I didn't know…"

"Papa had an older sister," Midge explains. "She had two kids, and one was a boy. James. His name was James and he was fun. Nice to me. Anyways, I…they never recovered his body, and…just before Esther was born I ran into someone who looked…so much like him. In the eyes. And now…" 

"That guy on the corner?" 

She nods. 

He pulls her close. "You know, grief is strange, and long, Sweetheart. I'm not saying you're crazy, but this might be leftover shit from his death."

Midge considers that, cuddling in against him. "I guess it could be. I was so sure, though." 

"Evening, folks," a man says with a smile as he walks up. "Late for anybody to be wandering around."

"Well, we're comics," Lenny explains. "Terrible creatures of the night. And ghost hunters, apparently."

"Say, you're Lenny Bruce and Midge Maisel," the man marvels. "I don't suppose I could get an autograph." 

Midge smiles kindly and unwraps from Lenny. "If you've got paper and pen, we've got autographs. Who are we making it out to?" 

"Alexander," he replies, as he pulls out a little pad of paper and a pen. "Alexander Pierce." 

Lenny watches the man as he waves the pen in a strange way, and suddenly the street seems to settle around them in a way it hadn't before. As if someone who wasn't supposed to be there in the first place had gone. 

He signs quickly, letting Midge make small talk with this Pierce guy, and when they finally head back for their hotel, Lenny is so fucking relieved. 

*****

2014

The Village Vanguard 

"Good evening, everyone. I'm Mrs. Maisel and Captain fucking America is sitting in the back, holy shit."

The crowd- Steve included - laughs. 

"I have a secret to tell you," she says closely to the microphone. "I knew Captain America when he was just a scrawny Brooklyn kid who could get knocked over by a stiff breeze. And boy fucking howdy do I have stories." 

Steve laughs more and shakes his head. Sam is laughing too. 

"Have you ever watched a 98 pound gentile try to flirt with the tallest Jewish girl in the room?" Midge asks. "Let's settle in. It's summer, 1939. He is the only goy at our Catskills resort, and he is in it to win it with Shira Farber, who is six foot one and could break him in two. Now, as a little girl I just thought it was silly. As an adult? I have to ask: Steve, are you just really into women stepping on you? Because that is what would have happened if you'd succeeded." 

The audience laughs and Steve rubs his face. "I asked for this by showing up, didn't I?"

"Getting roasted by an 81 year old woman who's done it professionally since the 60s? Yeah." 

"Is it wrong to talk about Captain America and sex?" Midge asks. "Does being a symbol of the ideal America preclude you from wanting a good fuck? Not that he has to want to fuck, but is it because he doesn't want to fuck or because the government doesn't want him to fuck? I bet those USO girls back in the day knew the answer to that question." 

Sam slowly looks at Steve. 

Who turns red. 

"I mean that begs the question: is the American dream sexless?" Midge asks. "We've always been disturbingly puritanical, haven't we? My late husband got arrested how many times for dirty jokes? Where is the we like to fuck political party? Where's the candidate handing out Plan B at their town halls? You know. Just in case. Sure, we want liberty, but a lot of us also want orgasms. What is congress' plan to increase getting off in the coming fiscal year? Not that kind of coming. I mean I hope I'll be coming sometime in the next fiscal year." 

Sam laughs loudly at that. 

"Yeah, Mr. Falcon thought that was funny. I bet he fucks." 

Steve laughs at that one as Sam shrugs sheepishly. 

"Can you imagine being the woman to take Captain America's virginity?" Midge asks. "Steve, when you made it with a woman for the first time, did you sing the National Anthem?" 

Steve laughs and plays along. "My Country Tis of Thee!" He calls back, making the audience, and Midge laugh. 

"Good answer," Midge praises. "People think Captain America, they think patriotism. They think of earnest heroism. I think that guy at the Seder table who insisted on eating the horse radish and then hogged the bathroom for an hour. Steve, you were not the only one with a sensitive stomach that night Steve." 

"Seven days of Passover, seven days of lighting a scented candle in the bathroom because you may think Captain America's shit smells like fresh apple pie, but I can assure you it does not." 

Amidst the applause she beams. "I'm Mrs. Maisel. You've been wonderful. Captain America is still a great sport. Thank you and goodnight!" 

*****

Midge smiles at them as she sits in the little dressing room. 

"Hi, Midge," Steve grins sadly. "Great set." 

"Thanks for playing along," she says. "But I'm guessing you're here about Bucky." 

Steve nods solemnly. "I guess you heard."

"Hard not to," Midge tells him. "When they didn't find the body, his sister and my grandfather held out hope that maybe he'd survived…and now I know that the handful of times I thought I saw him, I probably did. Maybe…maybe he remembered me a little through the brainwashing." 

"We're gonna find him," Sam promises. 

She smiles sadly. "If you do, tell him Cousin Midge says hello." 

*****

2018

To the Ruler of Wakanda, King T'Challa 

My name is Miriam Weissman-Bruce. The world at large mostly knows me as Midge Maisel, and I make people laugh for a living. 

We've never met, but it seems your country is currently taking care of a family member we all thought had died back in the 40s. 

I write to you because he hasn't returned any of my letters. I know he's received them. Wakandan mail is top notch, and I know he has the ability to write back; The idiot lost his non-dominant hand. 

I think he's too ashamed to talk to me. 

I write to you not just to complain like the truly Jewish woman I am, but to request permission to visit him in Wakanda. I ask no special treatment (though if you have comedy clubs, I'd be more than happy to perform and make fun of America for your citizens), I only want to see James sooner rather than later. I'm pushing 90. I'm figuring I don't have time for him to get his shit together. 

Can I say 'shit' to foreign royalty? I guess I'll find out. 

Thank you for your time and consideration.

Miriam "Midge Maisel" Weissman-Bruce 

*****

Bucky Barnes narrows his eyes as Ayo holds the hand of a small, shriveled white woman, helping her through the field toward Bucky’s hut.

“You know, I know several fashion designers who would cut off their own left foot to make clothes for you,” the older woman chats. “Really. You are stunning. And so tall.” 

Bucky squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head, realizing who the old woman is. He holds back tears and takes a breath. “Everybody’s tall to you Midge. You’ve been short your whole life.” 

“The curse of the Ashkenazi Jewish woman,” Midge jokes. “Short as fuck.” 

“What is she doing here, Ayo?” 

“She petitioned our king for a visit,” Ayo tells him. “And she promised him a comedy show. And then when she got here, she insisted on cooking for the royal family to express her gratitude.” 

“We’re Jews,” Midge chimes in. “We’re very good at feeding people.” 

“Are you telling me you made dinner, and I missed it?” Bucky asks, feeling deeply disappointed suddenly. 

“It’s tomorrow night,” Midge assures him, waving the free hand that isn’t holding onto Ayo. “I was told I had to come knock some fucking sense into you first.” 

“Sense?” Bucky asks, offended.

“Fucking sense,” Midge corrects him. “Not responding to my letters. What the fuck, James?” 

“I like her,” Ayo grins as she helps Midge settle onto a little bench near the hut. “I cannot believe you are related. She is much funnier than you are, Barnes.” 

“Well, she did make a career out of it,” Bucky points out. 

Midge looks up at him curiously. “You’ve heard my material?” 

“When I found out, I bought all your records,” he tells her, sitting next to her and taking her hand. “Hi, Midge.” 

Her eyes well up with tears and her unsteady hand squeezes his. “Hi, Bucky. How’s life?” 

“Oh, you know,” he shrugs his shoulders. “I caught some fish yesterday.” 

Midge laughs and shakes her head. “My husband loved to fish. You would have hated him and then loved him after you got to know him better.” 

Bucky smiles, letting go of her hand to wrap his arm around her. “Tell me all about it.”

[webangchan]

✜ the slip-up ✜  changbin x fem!reader 1.1k words kinks and warnings: ex!changbin, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), a shred of teasing, mild (for me) dirty talk 

Both your heart and brain agree that hooking up with your ex isn’t the best idea you’ve ever had.

But the rest of your body? It thinks you’re a goddamn genius for going back to Seo Changbin.

“Thought I’d never have you like this again,” he says, his hands running up your thighs underneath your dress. “You look so fucking good tonight.”

You laugh, reaching up to cup his cheeks and pull him in for a kiss. “Still quite the sweet-talker, I see,” you say before pressing your lips to his. You can feel him smile; it’s the only confirmation you really need from him.

It’s not like you came to the party planning to have sex with him; if anything, you were hoping to find someone else to get you off that night. But from the moment you locked eyes with Changbin from across the room, you already knew you’d be going home with him that night. 

“Can I take this off?” he asks, lightly pulling at your dress that’s now bunched around your hips. 

He’s not satisfied with the nod you give, and the way he says your name has you paying close attention.

“I need to know you’re sure. Tell me.”

You open your mouth, partially from surprise but mostly to answer him. “Take it off, Binnie,” you say, leaning forward to kiss him again. “I think we both have way too many clothes on for what we want to do.”

Changbin smirks and shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know about that,” he says, pulling the dress off of you. “Could’ve just as easily pulled this lace to the side and taken you like that.”

He removes his shirt, throwing it to the floor; you take it as an invitation to get rid of the rest of your clothes, too. If the low whistle he lets out is any indicator, Changbin still likes what he sees. You’re definitely not complaining, either - his shoulders, his arms, his chest; he looks good enough to eat.

You can tell by the look on his face that he isn’t the biggest fan of you fawning over him. Of course, he handles it as he always has, by turning the attention back on you. Gently nudging you backwards onto the bed, he kneels between your legs. “Open,” he says. 

It’s unsurprising that he’s gifted with his tongue. Of all the people you’ve let eat you out, Changbin’s the best at it. You obey without a second thought.

One of his fingers trails up and down your slit as he presses lazy, open-mouthed kisses to the inside of your thighs. Each kiss moves closer to where you actually want him, and you’re certain he knows how torturous it is for you. But the wait is worth the reward when his tongue trails up to your clit, flicking it just gently enough to make you whine. 

“Why are you being like this?” you ask, leaning up on your elbows. 

“Being like what?” Changbin asks, pulling away just long enough to answer before diving back in like his life depends on it. He’s a little rougher now, alternating between wrapping his lips around your clit to suck and teasing his tongue at your entrance.

You grit your teeth to bite back a groan. “Never - nevermind,” you say, using one hand to grip his hair. You want to feel him closer, want him deeper. Your hips seem to gain a mind of their own as you chase your orgasm.

Changbin chuckles. “That’s it, Baby,” he says. “Grind on my face just like you always do.”

He’s a generous lover, and you’re not shy about taking advantage of it. Doing exactly what he said, you grind against his tongue, the pressure on your clit proving too much in a short amount of time. Although you let go of his hair to grip his duvet, he doesn’t pull away as you cum.

You can already tell he’s working you towards a second orgasm with his mouth, and despite it feeling counter-intuitive, you reach back down and nudge him away. 

He looks up at you expectantly. 

“Want you to fuck me, Changbin,” you say. Honestly, you plan to say more to really play it up, but he’s over you almost immediately. When you let out a loud laugh at his eagerness, he does the same. 

“Tell me how you want it,” he says, licking his lips.

When you tell him you want to ride him, he’s more than happy to oblige.

He lets out a low groan as you lower yourself onto his cock, taking him to the hilt. “Shit, Baby, you feel so fuckin’ good,” he says, pressing his forehead against yours.

This is exactly what you wanted. You’re facing him, his fingers digging into your hips while yours rest against his chest. You give him a kiss before pulling away, letting out a moan you’re sure his neighbors will give him grief about later.

“You fit me so well, Binnie,” you say, lifting yourself halfway off of his dick before grinding down on it again. “Can feel all of you.”

Changbin soon uses his hold on your hips to set the pace of you bouncing on his cock, and you’re practically seeing stars. He knows your body so well, knows you so well, knows exactly how you like it, even after all this time apart. One hand releases you, moving down to play with your clit.

“About to cum again already?” he asks, a teasing tone in his voice. You don’t mind it; it’s familiar in the best way. “Can feel your pussy clenching around me.”

“Feels too good,” you say, shaking your head. “Please don’t stop, Babe, fuck.”

“Go ahead and cum for me,” he says, pressing another kiss to your lips but otherwise not changing his rhythm. “Let it go.”

You feel the tight knot in your belly ease up as you shudder out shallow breaths. Changbin finishes soon after you, pulling out and shooting his load over your thighs. 

The afterglow is almost too calm. You expect there to be tension, words unsaid, something - but there’s nothing but the sounds of your shared heavy breathing. You’re sprawled out next to him on the bed, your thoughts racing a million miles an hour when you hear him laugh. 

When you look at him, he smiles. 

“So. Can I take you out to dinner some time?”

[pitaparka]

sex headcanons

note — NSFW. whelp. if anyone wanted proof of me being clinically insane, this is what you could show them. not only has all of my free time been devoted to watching anything with pedro pascal in it, this is also what i think about while watching these anythings. i know there are people out there who have loved him for longer and are even more obsessed than i, so i figured i would share my personal headcanons for the PPCU (pedro pascal cinematic universe, duh). big love for any fans of pedrito - nat

MANDO

- VIRGIN with a capital V

- did you see how he reacted when grogu touched his face? this man has not been touched since he was a child

- he grew up with the mandalorians but he was exposed to suggestive behaviors because, helloooo, bounty hunter

- you have to coax him into it, but it doesn't take much, since he plans on keeping you around long term

- plus, you're so good with the kid

- you provide him a safe space to explore both himself and also your body and he has no idea how lucky he is for it

- doesn't make very much noise, but loves to listen to you

- he won't last long, he’s so sensitive from years of going untouched, but this man's recovery time???

- unparalleled

- he also has the dick of a space porn star and doesn't know it

- but seriously, rice purity score is NOT lower than 90, and most of the boxes he checks are "running-from-the-police" related

- he really wants to be held and have someone run their hands through his hair and kiss his neck and hold his hands is that too much to ask???

EZRA

- his words are where he gets you

- who knew dirty talk could sound so elegant??? and poetic??

- what a tease he is, too

- he pants so heavily right in your ear holy sweet lord

- and loves to laugh during sex

- he doesn't take himself super seriously unless he gets super into it, which has been known to happen from time to time

- safe words have been used between you two, which there's no shame in, but he's so good to you afterward

- he loves aftercare, and being gentle and sweet after a rough session

- asks you what you want and makes you beg for it

- makes you feel like you're in control but really, he's the one in control

- will make you cum before he does

- kinky kinky boy, almost always willing to try what you want him to

- loves to pin you down, but after he loses his arm it becomes a bit harder, so he settles for holding you flush against his chest as you squirm in his strong grip

FRANKIE

- a little soft spoken, but will whisper in your ear in public because he knows it gets you riled up

- will stare you down from across the room with bedroom eyes

- he's got that pilot's precision if you know what i mean aha

- he's honest with you about what he likes and has no qualms about telling you up front

- gives off switch energy, but you're gonna have to really make it worth his while if you want to fuck him

- a very gentle touch, which he would love to be reciprocated

- he aches from years in the service, his back, his knees, his shoulders

- would probably drop dead if you gave him a massage as foreplay

WHISKEY

- what an arrogant piece of shit

- "gorgeous, darlin', sweetheart, sugar"

- he will butter you up like a roll on thanksgiving goddamn

- so straightforward, and very up in your face, but it got you to sleep with him the first time you met him, so you can't say it doesn't work

- not the best with his fingers, but dear lord that tongue does wonders when he's not talking

- is a man on a mission to please you

- will spend an absurd amount of time between your thighs, and loves to feel you try to push him away when you get oversensitive

- loves it when you get feisty

- pull his hair, bite down a little harder than usual, push him down onto the bed or forcefully unbuckle his pants and this man will be putty in your hands

- is SO LOUD, and expects the same from you

- doesn't understand that because you're not screaming to the heavens doesn't mean he's doing a bad job

- associates volume with pleasure which isn't always the case

- that's something you'll have to work on with him, but he's a patient man

JAVIER PEÑA

- keeps condoms and lube on hand at almost all times

- ohhhh boy is this man willing to go at it wherever, whenever, you name it

- will fuck you until he sweats, and keeps going afterward

- and will definitely do you right

- he fucks to feel in control, so good luck trying to take control with this one

- almost tries to distance himself from you at first, but really it scares him that he cares so much

- there's just something about orgasming at the same time as you that just makes his whole week, and your hole weak (ahaha)

- likes to fuck you from behind and fuck you roughly, hands both occupied at the same time, mouth on you, and dick inside you

- very hands on, but can be sweet afterward

- this man kisses like no other you've ever kissed before, he leaves you breathless

MARCUS MORENO

- leads by example wink wink

- will show you what he wants done to him, and is pretty vanilla, but in a good way

- is big on foreplay and also aftercare, probably one of the sweeter ones on the list

- he's almost methodical in his sex, very routine, but willing to deviate for you

- gentle, but deep, languid strokes

- thinks he's quieter than he actually is

- always has a lot on his mind, so he really appreciates it when you can ease some of his tension

- secretly was really experimental in college

- very attentive to your needs and likes to tease

- morning sex is his thing. when he gets home from a long day, he wants to eat and relax and sleep. but in the morning? before anyone is up and before breakfast is even being considered, he likes to wake you up with sweet bruises and roaming hands

MARCUS PIKE

- marcus is the type of man to respect your boundaries fully, keep copies of toys he knows you like at his house, and surprise you at work with flowers and a dirty quickie in the bathroom because you've wanted to try it so badly

- a more traditional way of thinking on sex, and semi-reluctant to do anything involving his ass, but will try it for you if you really want him to

- a very quick learner, this one, and incredibly intuitive

- what he lacks in skill he makes up for in enthusiasm

- it's almost like he can read your mind, when he uses just the right amount of pressure and uses just the right motion to make you cum for him

- you have no idea how anyone could give this up, let alone break his heart

- his favorite thing is having you ride him, your face buried in his neck as you grind your hips down as he whispers praise in your ear

- marcus isn't super kinky, but i'm sure you can convince him to try something new every once in a while

MAX PHILLIPS

- OFFICE. DESK. SEX.

- "a private word with you in my office, please."

- so very seductive. the hand on the small of your back gets you going and he knows it, but he'll have to be more subtle if he wants to keep you

- another one who will butter you up to get you to sleep with him. he's very obvious about it, so it may or may not work first time. regardless he's up for a challenge

- pays so much attention to your neck. you will have to invest in many turtlenecks if you want to be with max

- big on eye contact, except for the exception of fucking you senseless over his desk

- obviously, a vampire, so he's absolutely magic between your thighs

- is very personable with everyone else, mainly because he's a business major, but he LOVES to make you jealous, this man LIVES off of it

- will one hundred percent expect you to be putty in his arms immediately, and treats it as a competition if you aren't

- he WILL take it personally and will make it a personal goal of his to get you to like him and want to fuck him without using his powers

- a game of cat and mouse

- does not care at all about being loud in the workplace, but he likes to see you struggle to keep quiet, even if everyone else can hear you anyway

MAXWELL LORD

- has suCH a praise kink wow

- his favorite thing is to hear you moan and tell him he’s doing a good job

- a little more vanilla than his counterparts but does like to take control and be a little rough

- a switch sometimes, falls into ruts where he just wants someone to take care of him

- but he WILL NOT ASK FOR IT. his pride won't let him

- at first, he’s not as mindful of you as you’d like him to be

- his sex is fast and unpleasant with hands everywhere and mouths and teeth and touch

- so you sit him down, and show him what you like. very slow and sensual

- you take your time with him, and he eventually starts to do the same with you

OBERYN MARTELL

- remember din's rice purity score? yeah, oberyn's is maybe ten. which is pushing it

- when you meet him, he knows what he likes, and is very particular about it

- he's done his fair share of experimenting, but he's willing to try new things, if there's anything new to be tried

- takes control inside and outside the bedroom

- not afraid to show you your place

- he's the kinky one in the relationship, and he will let you explore his body all you want

- if he doesn't like it he will kindly redirect you, his hands on yours, stroking and tugging and redirecting pressure and placement so that you learn his body in and out

- loves to watch you with his girls and boys. what an exhibitionist this man is

- for most people, they have to choose between quantity or quality in their sex lives. oberyn martell is not most people

- he is a prince, and will not let you forget it, but likes it when you talk back and he has to punish you

PERO TOVAR

- the roughest one on the list, but not the kinkiest

- sex to him when he's at his worst is just a way for him to feel good and relieve stress

- when he's at his best, it's a way for him to make you scream his name

- very possessive about what's his, and if he has to show it in front of everyone else for them to know that he will do it

- this man fucks like a rabbit. how does he find the time??? nobody knows

- his libido is so high. you have no idea how he isn't absolutely spent at the end of a long day of fighting and training and wandering, but he'll fuck you where you lay if you let him and you're too tired to move

- once you accidentally walked in on him stroking himself, and the AUDACITY OF HIM

- he smirked, groaned, and asked you to help him out

- who could resist a man like that

[funkymbtifiction]

Re: ESFP 8w9. [...] Anyways, how do I develop inferior Ni? It’s a pain to be so insecure about future. I want to take control of it more. I’m confident in whatever life throws at me, but whenever I try looking or planning into the future, it stresses me out. I have my goal, right? There will be something that I have to wait and just let it happen (e.g. policy changes, new laws and legislation). It’s these outside forces that I have no control over but can make or break my plan. One of the people I know is INTJ and he has total confident about where these things go. He is almost always spot on about future trends, down to exact month it’ll come in effect. I never see him getting it wrong, not even once. Although he’s rubbish when it comes to actually acting on them.

It’s really not recommended for you to over-focus so much on your inferior function; being obsessed with it and trying to use it (a function that is a source of anxiety for you and is “immature”) will only lead you into a Ni-grip and make you struggle to react, live, and think proactively in the present moment. You are teetering on the edge of that now, so the solution isn’t how to grow Ni, but how to become more solid in your current interests and plans, and assume that what your Ni envision is going to eventually work out, when the time is right for you to leap on that opportunity. Se/Te is really exceptionally good at that, so you should trust that process to take you where you are meant to be down the road. The INTJ is on his path and you are on yours; don’t envy what he has or can see or try to emulate it, just take his advice to heart when making plans for your future.

For me, these things make me really anxious. Because I can’t see the implication of it and where it’ll go. This, in turn, makes me feel like my goal is not going to happen because I can’t see it through to the end. (Only to feel better the next day when better news comes..) Another thing is I can’t really see things beyond the surface. So, when I can’t have physical information to work on (talking face-to-face, evidence, facts), I struggle to see if something is trustworthy or not. It makes me indecisive (which I don’t like) and it slows me down. I want to break this vicious cycle and be more confident in my future.

Stop over-focusing on the future and be more present. Some people can see ahead, others cannot; but not even intuitive dominants can see everything. Then too, people change as they go through life experiences. You may find when you’re 40 that your “life goal” or what you want isn’t the same as when you were nineteen. As for trusting things -- as an 8, listen to your body and your instincts. Don’t process with your mind, listen to your gut. Trust it.

On one hand, I have complete confidence that when the time comes, I’ll know what to do.

This. Hold onto this. You don’t need to fear the future or excessively plan for it, because you will be able to handle it when you get there. You will use what’s available to get what you want.

On the other, the black hole that is future bugs me and tells me 'it won’t happen, you won’t even get a chance’ like a devil whispering in the back of my mind. It’s really hard for me to set a proper long term timeline and I need it to convince myself that my goal is possible. Logically, it’s totally practical and possible. My plan is as pragmatic as it gets.

If this is super important to you, get the INTJ to help you with your timeline or consult with a business planner. Someone with higher Ni and Te will be able to plan this out. Don’t be afraid to outsource, but also remain flexible.

But what if there’s some higher power who hates my gut?

There isn’t.

What if suddenly Biden sees fit to put this and that legislation to use, for example. What will happen?

Then you will find a workaround.

These uncontrollable factors can make or break my whole plan. And that eats away at my confidence. I don’t fear reality, but I fear what lies behind it.

You said your plan is solid and practical. That means it has legs and you can trust that at some point, somehow, with hard work and determination, you can make it happen.

Truth be told, I’m tired of self-medicating with astrologers lol.

Start, instead, asking yourself what you can do today to get you closer to your eventual goal and then do it. :)

[cominfromtheforest]

Still Wip: Veil of Shadows

Ghost was truly something special, completely different from their siblings. Quirrel watched them walk in, surrounded by the Royal retainers that often followed the King himself in a similar fashion. Ghost’s head was held high, veiled and adorned in golden jewelry, their gaze locked somewhere ahead. They paid the retainers no mind, no matter how much they tried to get their attention.

They had on their usual blue robes, leaving their shoulders exposed, the fabric tight around their hips and waist, flaring from the bottom into a short train. They had a signature regal look, a mixture of their parents. And Quirrel knew that the facade of delicacy was made up of expensive fabrics and jewelry, to hide the signs of a skilled knight. The sharp talons of their feet underneath the long hem and their sharp claws hidden in the long sleeves, not to forget the weapons they surely had concealed on their person. The only thing that gave them away once you knew were the clinks their claws made against the stone floor.

They seemed to notice him standing on the side, and with a one swift movement of their hand, every Royal retainer was scrambling back to the door, to allow Ghost their privacy. As much as the retainers adored their company and attention, they were also afraid of Ghost. Quirrel had yet to figure out exactly why, but he assumed that they knew something that he didn’t. Not that he also wasn’t afraid of Ghost, even if just a little bit, knowing what their status and place was in the kingdom's hierarchy.

Quirrel could see them let out a deep breath, their shoulders relaxing as soon as the door was once again closed. Then they turned quickly, walking towards where he was standing, and Quirrel couldn’t help but once again marvel at the way that Ghost moved. Smooth and practiced, paired with the gentle sway of their body, like they were more floating rather than walking. 

“Quirrel,” their voice purred inside his head. He loved the way they said his name, like it was little more than just that. 

“Your Highness… Ghost,” Quirrel smiled, knowing that they had asked him to stop the formality, but dropping it straight away still made him nervous. 

They hummed, and Quirrel was sure that their eyes were fixed on his, even if he couldn’t see them behind the veil. “You requested a private audience with me, is everything alright?”

“Well I don't, I don’t really know…It’s… I keep having this dream and it feels off. But it didn’t feel like something I should go to the King about, but that I, that I should come to you.” he meddled with the edges of his jacket nervously, feeling out of place.

“Well,” Ghost placed their hand gently on his shoulder, getting him to look at them again. “Dreams are not my domain, but I do think that it is important to trust your intuition. So please, tell me about it and I’ll see how I might be able to help you.”

Quirrel nodded, clearing his throat. He had gone through this conversation likely a hundred times while waiting, but now he just hoped that he could remember everything that he had wanted to say. “It’s always the same, which is why I think it feels so wrong. I can see myself, kneeling in this dark ocean, not dark the way deep water is, but completely black like it’s eating all the light. But it isn’t ferocious, and I feel an almost impossible sense of calmness, of safety. There are waves, but they’re gentle and the darkness is not deep, the surface barely reaching the top of my thighs. It’s cold, but I don’t mind it.

On the other side, opposite to me, is this golden desert. It doesn’t seem to have an end, but the horizon is covered in clouds and it’s impossible to actually tell for sure. Above hangs a massive sun, a stark contrast for the darkening sky behind it. It burns so hot that the desert sand below is turning to glass, and I can tell that it’s trying to burn away the darkness and me with it, but it can’t. Despite all of its power, it's not strong enough.

The sun is screaming. I think. And then the ocean rumbles, the waves hit a little higher, and this giant figure emerges from within, infinitely dark. It has horns adorning its head like a crown and its white eyes burn into me. As it raises up, it covers the sun and it now shines through those horns like a halo. We stare at each other and…” Quirrel swallows, mouth now dry. “The figure turns, and it… It swallows the sun. Then as the world falls to darkness, I wake up,” he looks at Ghost, though they are unreadable, as usual. 

“How intriguing,” they whispered then, something about their tone sending shivers down his shell. “Tell me, please, how does it make you feel?” Their fingers lifted Quirrels chin up, possibly to meet the eyes he couldn’t see behind the veil. “Does it scare you? The burning sun or the infinite darkness?”

“The sun is terrifying, there is intensity in its presence. It burns like only a heavenly body could, scorching, like rage would.” The moment feels, personal, somehow, with Ghost's fingers still on his face, full attention on him. “But the darkness in its infinity feels the exact opposite: safe and calm, the waves washing over me gently. It’s what keeps me from burning up. And the figure… It doesn’t scare me either. It feels like an extension of the darkness, but stronger.” Quirrel twists his hands around nervously, not really knowing what Ghost was getting from all of his ramblings.

“It feels like I’m supposed to be there. To bear witness to the end of the Sun,” he whispers, realizing it as he speaks it aloud.

Ghost humms, their finger retreating back into the sleeves, as they turn to look out of the window they’re standing in front of. They stand in silence for a moment, thinking.

“Do you pray?” they break the silence.

“I.. On occasion, yes..” Quirrel swallows. Of all the things, he hadn’t expected that. 

“To father?”

“As is tradition on sanctified days, yes.”

“Pick a typical day, and pray, ” Ghost whispers into his head, turning back. They seem to loom over him and Quirrel feels like they’re once again flooding all of his senses, like everything else has suddenly ceased to exist. “But when you decide to do so, don’t pray up to the King, to father,” their hand recaptures his chin, and Quirrel thinks he might end up becoming jelly in their hands.

“Pray to me,”

[mystic-sky]

|✨Part 1✨| |✨Part 2 ✨| of the Friends with Benefits Series.

Your relationship with Suguru started off somewhat unexpectedly. A new semester romance, however it was unwanted after dealing with Satoru Gojo just last year. You tried not to blame yourself for the situation unraveling the way it did. You did your best to make Satoru comfortable with you- at least you thought you did.

He cut you off as soon as you made your feelings apparent. You wondered if he somehow did it for your own good, or maybe there was something deeper that went along with it. No matter, you remained optimistic. You were young, and bound to make mistakes. This was just a story to tell your children about in the future if you ever felt it was necessary.

But back to Suguru, who had wiggled his way into your life somehow. He wasn’t a random guy actually. More like a familiar face you’d seen in a few of your classes because you both were in the same major. Just so recently, he decided to talk to you.

You weren’t expecting to hit it off with him so easily. He was sort of scary looking, which led you not to engage with him in the first place. He never tried talking to you before 5 months ago. And neither did you, considering you thought he was so handsome he’d break your heart too somehow.

His arms were sleeved with tattoos that would bridge at his chest. The tattoos would sometimes peak out of his wide collared shirts if he chose to wear one that day. He had a thing for wearing these huge ear gauges that had his favorite anime on them. Though, you never noticed until you sat close enough to him to see the designs. It was a rainy day, and both of you ended up sitting beside each other in your sociology course in the back of the classroom. You were both late, having come in just after the other.

It was weird seeing him this close. He never did come late to any class you’d ever been in with him. Even if you wanted to sit with him, like Satoru, he never had any available seats beside him. He didn’t disturb you until the lecture ended, commenting on one of your anime themed mechanical pencils. That sparked your first conversation with him, and he wasn’t shy to ask you out for coffee right after.

He’s been keen on you since, and you just barely give him the time of day in the beginning. You were just cautious, after the whole Satoru situation. Suguru was fine with whatever you wanted the situation between you both to be. But you will admit, the conversations he’d keep you up with at night made it hard to not fall in love with him.

He’d take you out to dinner, study with you, and sleep with you from time to time since the sexual attraction between you was hard to deny. You think your favorite thing about messing around with Suguru was how he’d always pick your brain after sex with manga theories and better endings than the canonically debuted ones. He was a really good cook, and you often challenged him to make your favorite dishes. They were excuses to invite you over to his place, so he gladly took each one with merit. It was friends with benefits but with far much more substance to hold onto.

He never poked you about getting serious. Whatever you both had was still young at barely 5 months. He could tell you’d been going through something mostly because of how you sexed him. Sometimes you were the dominant one- you’d throw him on the bed and bounce yourself on his length until your knees were far too tired to go on. Other times, he’d steal the show from you, showing you just exactly what he was capable of.

He spread you onto the desk in his bedroom, face deep into your folds. He also loved to spoil you, like Satoru, but you did your best not to think of him when you both were together. Suguru had so much more hair to grab, considering his tongue work was so good it scared you.

“Be a good kitten and cum for me.” He said between sucks on your clit. You often couldn’t think, and that was a good thing. He numbed you in plenty of ways, he knew he had been helping you get over something. He had been doing the same thing but you could care less.

“Actually, I changed my mind.” He tore his mouth from your steaming sex, wiping his chin. You gasp as he lifts you up off the desk, holding your body without leaning against anything for support. You felt weightless, feeling his length prod at your entrance. You tried to hold back a giggle as he smiled smugly at you.

“You ready?” His eyes were sincere, asking for your consent again as he was aching to sink you onto himself.

You nod, feeling a bit nervous. “Stuff like this is about balance. Start flailing around again and I’ll drop you.” He teased. Your hands found some of his hair again, tugging on it a bit.

“Just fuck me.” You roll your eyes as he slams his length into you, making you cry out and clutch your arms around him. His large hands firmly grasp underneath your thighs, using the way your ass recoiled against his thighs to keep a steady rhythm. He’s immersed in the way your broken moans pour into his ear, fueling his stamina. He’s a stickler for teasing you the entire time, praising you for taking his length so well.

“Such a good kitten, you’re taking it so well.”

It was the third time he’d ever held you up to fuck you. After letting go of the fear of him dropping you it became incredibly easy to focus on the pleasure.

“You’re gonna cum aren’t you? Don’t worry about the carpet baby, make a mess for me.”

He knew how to mix things up the way you needed. On your rough days he’d sex you slowly, more passionately and generously. If you were happy and feeling frisky he’d fuck you accordingly. He was pretty good at reading your body just after the first few fucks you had. You hated comparing the two men, but it did happen from time to time when you were in solitude, plagued by your own self-deprecating thoughts every now and then.

It was weird how they emanated each other’s personalities in certain ways. And then you found out that they used to be good friends in high school until something happened. You never poked Suguru about it, since he’d seem to get irritated when you were around groups of friends and Satoru’s name was mentioned. You did your best to be satisfied with what you had. He was handsome, smart, and possibly wanted to be your boyfriend in due time.

But you couldn’t help but think about Satoru. Not only was your experience with him a wild one, but he was fucking everywhere. It’s always like this for you. It’s not until you’re trying to avoid someone do you begin seeing them absolutely everywhere.

You stared at Satoru over Suguru’s shoulder, poking your cheek with your tongue. The audacity he had, showing up in the cafe where you both first met while you and Suguru were on a routine study date. Well, it was a hotspot for a lot of students, so who are you to say he can’t come in here.

“I think I’m overworking myself today, we can go eat now.” Your mood change was evident to Suguru, but he couldn’t put his finger on why at first. He watched you get up and pack your things before shortly following.

As you tossed your bag over your shoulders, he took hold of one of your hands, squeezing firmly. He pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze.

“Is it something I can cheer you up from when we get back to my place?” Suguru was a bit smug about it, and also painfully intuitive about your emotions even though you’d been close for such a short time. Your cheeks went red, eyes burning holes through the floor.

“It’s nothing, really. Let’s just get out of here.” You manage to look back at him, just barely glancing at Satoru who probably had been looking in this direction. Suguru pressed another kiss to your forehead, wrapping his arm around you and leading you out the cafe. He nearly touched shoulders with Satoru and his own dame, smirking just loudly enough for him to hear.

Suguru wasn’t dumb, finally having noticed your energy change just a few moments after Satoru Gojo entered the cafe. This was your favorite place, and he hated how someone could ever ruin that for you. He felt urged to do something about it- with or without your consent. He doesn’t poke you about it until you’re in the car.

“Random question, but do you know Satoru Gojo?”

The question like a pin in your spine, making you visibly un-slouch in the drivers seat. He doesn’t look at you, feeling that would make it easier for you to talk. You take this the wrong way, and feel even more tense.

“I do, we were a thing at one point.” You manage not to stutter. You had no idea why you felt scared or touchy about the subject- you shouldn’t be. His entire vibe had changed, and he didn’t have his usual grin peaking at the corners of his lips.

“Oh,” he says simply. The longest ten seconds of silence reign throughout the vehicle. You’re anxious to turn on the radio, anything to rid the first bit of awkwardness the two of you had ever shared.

“He’s an asshole, isn’t he?” He randomly chuckles heartily, somewhat calming you.

“Yeah,” you’re exhaling properly now, “he really is.”

“We were best friends for about four years. I know him like the back of my hand. Granted, he’s probably changed a lot since high school.”

“But you’re both so-

“Different?” He chuckled. “Yeah, I know.”

“If he was an asshole then, he’s multiplied tenfold.” You roll your eyes. “You both don’t talk anymore?”

You knew they didn’t, but you took the opportunity to ask anyway.

“Nah, he’s a slimy bastard. I hope karma turns him rotten.” You’d never seen Suguru scowl before. He must really hate him, you thought. Still, what a small world; first Satoru and now his ex best friend.

“You still talk to him?” He pokes again. His tone is just barely playful. God, you changed your mind. You didn’t want to talk about this anymore.

“No, we don’t talk anymore. It ended pretty badly.” You say simply. You also decided not tell Suguru that the both of you messed around just before you started messing with him.

“Sorry about that. If we were friends sooner I’d have told you about him.” Suguru is apologizing for something you weren’t entirely ignorant about in the first place. You knew what you were getting into.

Satoru never tried to convince you the situation was anything other than what it was— until the end. The sweet things he started saying to you during those final months often echoed in your head- like he meant all of it.

The sex developed into something that it shouldn’t have. Sex that passionate should be forbidden if you aren’t already in love. And the things he said to you the last time he dropped you off didn’t make it any better. You wanted to slap his stupid, pretty face.

“I’m over it now.”

Suguru pans his gaze to watch you nonchalantly staring out the window. He knew better than to ask anymore. He was more elated that you didn’t interact with him at all. He didn’t need Satoru painting a picture about him in your head before he could first.

What sucks the most about dating people you go to school with is how often you’d see them. Satoru was fucking everywhere. The local restaurants, the library, the cafe, and he’d registered for two of your classes this semester. He didn’t speak to you at all, but he was always just there. Perhaps he’d always been around but since you’d been involved with him you were more aware of his presence.

You were standing in line in the library, attempting to return some books. He entered the space, and walked up behind you, standing on the line and giving your space. You turn your body slightly, peering up at him. You thought to leave, but just because you resented him didn’t mean you were going to cower every time you had to be around him for a while. You let out a sigh as you tip toed to peer in front of yourself; at least the line was moving.

Both of you had made it to the front, talking to separate librarians beside one another. When they both got up from their seats to head towards the back, he spoke directly to you, without actually looking at you.

“(Name), word of advice— I’d steer clear of Getou Suguru if I were you.”

Anger poured over you; you did your best to keep your voice low and eyes forward when saying this.

“That’s the first thing you say to me after almost a year? Go fuck yourself.”

He bites back a witty response, poking his cheek with his tongue. “Whatever. Find out the hard way.”

“You’ve got a lot of nerve. Why the fuck are you telling me this?” You’re whisper-shouting, considering it’s a library.

“Because,” he turns to look at you, “I care about you.”

“What a load of shit.”

Satoru Gojo doesn’t care about anyone, you learned that the hard way.

He let out a sigh. He knew he had no right, but even if he couldn’t get you back, he wanted you to know what kind of guy you were seeing. He couldn’t say anything, he knew you wouldn’t listen. Not like this anyway. Both librarians returned, and gave you back your borrowing passes. You quickly departed, refusing to give Satoru another opportunity to speak to you. His words stuck with you on the way home. You didn’t have any reason to be afraid of Suguru, right?

Two months had passed since Satoru had “warned” you about Suguru. And nothing has happened to lead you to be cautious of him. Satoru hasn’t spoken to you either.

You’re sitting in the guidance counselor’s office as it’s the end of the semester once again. You typed away on your phone, telling Suguru you’d see him for dinner in a bit before throwing your head back and shutting your eyes. The heaviest sigh left your lungs, you were thankful the semester was nearing its end. You had quite enough of studying and needed to unwind.

You feel a presence on the end of your bench, making you open one eye. You see white tresses, and you catch the scent of familiar cologne.

Satoru doesn’t look at you, but he’s quite aware that he’s sitting beside you as well. You almost scoff, only crossing your arms and legs. Noticing the undone laces of your boots, you lean forward to tie it. Your loose bag on your shoulder which unfortunately wasn’t zipped, spilled small notebooks and pencils all over the floor. Spare change rolled across the walk way along with other items.

“Fuck...” you muttered. His head snapped towards you as you let out a sigh and bent down to pick up your things. Your phone that was your on your lap hit the ground as well. You saw his hand in the corner of your eye reaching down to help.

“I got it.” You say sternly, and shamelessly picking up your things. He retracts his hand, and instead gets up to pick up the items that were further away from you, ignoring your request not to help.

He sits back beside you, handful of change and pens. He holds it up towards you quietly while you attempt to fix your bag back to the way it was. You turn to look at him for what feels like the first time in forever, blue eyes pouring into your own (eye color) ones.

“I didn’t need you to do that.” You say, taking your things. You initially thought to take your things from him without a word. He went back to staring in front of himself, waiting to be called. You shifted uncomfortably, and fidgeted with your fingernails. You forced yourself into to pay attention to the soft music playing from the back of the office until he spoke.

“How have you been?”

For some odd reason though, you wanted him to say something to you. You had a lot of things to let off your chest considering the way things ended. You thought of giving him a piece of your mind right there in front of all the staff members, but you restrained yourself.

Instead, you found yourself saying “I’m doing great.”

“That’s good.” He says nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. He didn’t even sound sure of his own response. A few minutes of silence resumes after. You’re a bit startled when speaks again.

“I’m definitely out of line right now, but I’ve been wanting to talk to you about some things.”

“What could we possibly have to talk about?” A lot. You were bubbling over.

“There’s a lot of things, at least for me, that I’ve never really told you.” He’s looking at you now. “Can we talk somewhere quieter? Whenever you’ve got the free time, and only if you want to.”

He was offering closure to you a bit too late. Or maybe all this time you’d convinced yourself you’d moved on. You often found yourself replaying the morning he brought you home and all the things you should’ve said in that moment.

That’s not exactly moving on. Unfortunately, you also found yourself comparing him to Suguru more often then not. That’s not moving on either.

“Okay,” you said. “Later on today. Round 8pm.”

He looks thankful. Just as he spoke, your counselor called out to you to come into their office. You stand up, looking down at him.

“Cafe then?” He suggests.

“That’s fine. See you.” You shrugged. You didn’t care that much for the place. You heard him say goodbye as the door shut behind you.

You had half a mind to never speak to him ever again. Though both of you were using each other, he knowingly crossed a line, making you feel things for him in a situation where feelings weren’t supposed to be involved. And he never gave you a chance to truly address the situation. Now, almost a year later, he’s ready to speak to you on his own terms. You’d be sure to tell him you had no intentions of making amends with him. If you personally didn’t have interest in what he had to say, you wouldn’t bother gracing him with the ability to explain anything to you.

You would’ve made him suffer. He’s lucky you’re still a bit distraught about the situation. Any longer into your situation-ship with Suguru and Satoru wouldn’t even have the slightest chance at something like this.

Dinner with Suguru was transparent. He could tell something was on your mind but he didn’t pry much after his first attempt. The last time you both talked about Satoru he turned into a different person, and it didn’t sit right with you. You did your best to brush it off, assuming he was just protective over you. But Satoru’s warning in the library echoed in your subconscious more and more. Just what happened between them, and would it be okay for you to ask Suguru about it?

He wasn’t your boyfriend either, but you suppose he wanted to be? You hadn’t brought up the dating conversation in while and you probably wouldn’t until you situated the Satoru thing.

“You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” Suguru’s holding your face, brushing your hair out of your eyes. His smile is incredibly gentle and you feel guilty for keeping this from him.

Perhaps you should hold Suguru accountable too, for being so sweet to you like this. He informed you he wouldn’t up and leave unless you wanted him to and that he’d never say anything he didn’t mean. But after dealing with trauma from past relationships, affection like this was always perceived cautiously.

“I know,” you say, feeling his lips press against your forehead again. “It’s just not easy to talk about right now.”

“That’s alright,” he assures you. “I’m here whenever you’re ready.”

His lips connect with yours while his hands slide down your back. He feels you relax a bit, and that makes him smile. How could he possibly be a bad person?

“I’ll call you when I get home, okay?”

You nod, watching him part from you and get into his car. You never did come to understand how he could afford it; a black Mercedes Benz-Coupe. You assumed that and his nice apartment were inherited wealth from his parents.

You wave at him before going into the station. Luckily he had things to attend to, and you didn’t have to bother making up anything about tonight. It was just barely any of his business, right?

You had an idea of what to expect from Satoru when you got there. You were rehearsing things you wanted to say in your head, some of them incredibly mean. You wanted to hurt his feelings too, if you had it in you. It didn’t take you long to get to the cafe, and you’d arrived early, already finding Satoru in the very back, furthest away from people. You gripped your bag strap, before sitting across from him.

“Hey, you’re early.” He says surprised, looking up at you from his phone.

“You’re the early one.” You say, not even cracking a smile.

“How are you?”

“Same as earlier. What did you want to talk about?”

He’s visibly gulping, and you’ve never seen him this nervous. He places his phone face down on the table, turning the sound off. You cross your arms.

“Right,” he lets out a heavy sigh. “Where should I start?” He attempts to gather his thoughts, rubbing his sweaty palms on his jeans.

“I’m not the kind of guy who really addresses his feelings, if you couldn’t already tell at the time we, you know... I’ve been fucked over a lot. I don’t have a lot of actual friends, and I’m constantly aware that people cling to me for my money or looks.”

He never acted like his entourages bothered him per se, but you did notice that he never bothered being around people anymore when the two of you were a thing. You prompt him to continue with your eyes.

“The only best friend I’ve ever had used me until I realized what was going on and cut him off. The first girl I ever really loved chose him instead of me shortly afterwards. Obviously, it’s not a legitimate excuse to have treated you the way that I did, but I guess what I’m saying is that I’m cautious of people and have been for a long time now.”

“But I never tried to use you,” you interjected. You felt a bit insensitive for spitting it out like that, but he really did hurt you.

“I know, and I realized that a bit too late.” He sighs. “But more importantly, I realized that I didn’t talk about or convey my feelings correctly. I know I confused you a lot, and you didn’t deserve that at all.” He tried to keep eye contact with you when he spoke, but your lion like force was pretty strong.

“And when I dropped you off— I shouldn’t have said those things to you. You were so much more than a warm body to me. You were the first real friend I’ve had in a long time. Things got so cloudy for me since we were sleeping together. I didn’t know how to address it, and it freaked me out when you told me you wanted more. I should’ve been elated, but I suppose I didn’t want my heart broken again either.”

“So basically...” He breathed out, “I’m really sorry. I’ve got some messy emotions, things I’m gradually learning to deal with. I’m not making excuses for myself. It’s just I never did talk about myself much when we were a thing, so I wanted to tell you something at least, and apologize. I hated the way I left things. I know it’s long overdue for an apology but...”

“But?”

“I still have feelings for you. I never stopped. The more time passed, the harder it made it for me to apologize and tell you how I feel. And then I noticed you were going out with... him, so I thought it was too late. But I still wanted to try, I guess.”

He looked so awkward, you almost laughed. Apologies were definitely foreign to him. You could tell he meant it, but even so, he wouldn’t be getting a relationship out of you, if that’s want he wanted.

You let out a large sigh. For some weird reason all the angry things you wanted to say wouldn’t come out. You wanted to be angry at him but you just couldn’t. And your heart was swelling at the idea of him still having feelings for you. Did he really mean that?

“We’re not together. Not yet anyway— it’s complicated.” You crossed your legs and leant back in your seat. Suguru probably would’ve been your boyfriend already if you weren’t so stuck on Satoru.

“Oh,” he said quietly. You’d never seen him look so small, it was definitely out of character for him.

“I forgive you,” you lean forward, holding your head in your hands. All this time and you still had soft spot for him.

“Really?” He’s surprised. Your friends will be too after you tell them this story.

“You want me to take it back?” You’re pinching the bridge of your nose.

He chuckles nervously. “No ma’am.”

“Are you... doing okay though?” He probes after noticing the stress in your brows.

“I can’t stay mad at you. And I want to so bad. It’d make my life simpler. Now I’m conflicted.” You drag your fingers under your eyes, before smooshing your own face, stressfully so. He thought you were cute, but he felt bad being the source of your distraught-ness.

“So I take it you still have feelings for me?” His voice is regular now, and just barely his normal cocky tone.

You won’t even look at him. “I mean...”

How do you explain to him that the only reason you’re messing with someone right now, who just so happens to be his ex-best friend, is because you were trying to forget about him in the first place?

“I get it if you don’t.” He says. “It’s been a while.”

“I do.” It’s almost instinct for you to correct him. “That’s the problem.”

“Ah, I see.” He’s rubbing the back of his neck again. You wished you could start over with a clean slate. School and dating shouldn’t be this difficult.

Satoru thought to warn you again about Suguru in that moment, but he held his tongue. He didn’t want to make it seem as if he was badmouthing him so you could favor him more, he wanted you to lean towards him naturally, if possible.

Silence reigned throughout your little booth in the cafe. The sound of rain hitting the window screen made it easy not to talk so much. It also made it hard to see a certain black, long-haired male in his Mercedes Benz, parked just across the street.

Suguru threw his cigarette out the driver’s window, continuing to watch the both of you inside. He shook his head disappointedly before starting his car.

“And that reminds me,” you say, making Satoru swallow hard and shift in his seat.

“What was that nonsense two months prior, about Geto Suguru?”

[futurewriter2000]

Rocks and Dust

A/N: I don't know why Remus gave me such Heath Ledger vibes when I was writing this but he did and I am honestly so fucking proud of it. Now, I really want to make myself some rice and chicken... or just rice. I hope you like it <3

REQUESTED BY @cloudywitchh: Hiiii, Im not sure if your requests are open, but if they are i have one. :)) Before I request, I want you to know that I love your oneshots and series! ive been binge reading. Could you possibly do a Gryffindor reader that has both james and remus that like her. oneshot or series. if you choose to write it, thank you, if not i understand

XX

Souls meet when eyes do and it hasn't been much easy to hold yourself back when such mesmerising hazel eyes had done nothing but watch you seductively.

At first you couldn't feel it but after a while, something in the back of your mind told you to look a certain direction. When you did, your eyes met his and a certain colour started to appear on your cheeks.

You watched him, he watched you. "Yes, Potter?" you asked with a smirk forming on the corner of your lips.

He smiled, tilting his head a bit to the side before speaking. "Had you done something new with your hair?" he asked, glancing up at your hair as you let out a laugh.

"Not really."

"Well, no matter of it." he leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. "You look absolutely stunning."

You felt your heart flutter in your chest but you were not about to let him know that. "Thank you. When don't I look absolutely stunning." you joked and he rolled his eyes.

"Hey, mate." Remus came into the common room and tapped James' shoulder as he passed him by, sitting next to him.

James smile faded a bit. He was a tad disappointed in his friend's presence. Everything had seemed to go so well between you and him. If the two of you continued to be alone, he would have had more confidence to ask you out on a date. Knowing that Remus took fancy in you too, it was a bit challenging to do so.

"What's up, Moony?" James looked at him, clearly not in a friendliest tone Remus was used to.

Remus' lips twirled upwards and he felt amused by his friends' frustration. He looked at you and smiled wonderfully. "Hi." he said and you smiled cheerfully, oblivious to the competition in front of you.

"Hi, Remus."

You seemed to be a tad disappointed as well. You loved to flirt with James because it seemed so easy and fun to do yet sometimes you couldn't understand whether he truly likes you or if he's doing it just out of fun. But you live by your mother's words; If a man truly likes you, he will do absolutely everything to let you know and pursue you.

That was why you were always so laid back. You didn't overthink anything when it came to boy. They seemed to think more simply than girls and whatever they did, they did because they wanted to, not because there was a whole scheme behind their actions.

You could see a bit discomfort in James. You couldn't really figure out why but he started to pout, which had made you a bit more uncomfortable around both of them.

Remus, however, loved to talk to you. He was open and honest but sometimes you felt as if he held too many secrets inside of him. To you, he was a bit harder to get to know, no matter how much he could tell you.

"You're going to love this, (y/n)!" he started to sound more excited. "I had found the oldest yet most interesting place a few nights ago-" he hear- both of you heard James scoff to that. "And I know your curious spirit cannot wait to explore it."

"Where?!" you threw all your books away and jumped forward. Old ruins and historic backgrounds always made you overly excited. You must have gotten it from your dad's side of the family. Everybody seemed to be more of history freaks and you were no different.

"I can show you. What do you think James?" Remus turned to James, who only laughed.

"No, thank you." he stood up and stretched his arms over his body. "Rocks and dust? Not my cup of tea. If I wanted to take a girl I fancy-" he looked at you with a grin and a soft chuckle. "I'd take her somewhere more romantic." he walked to you and winked. "A lovely restaurant or a walk among the trees under the moonlight." he was leaning down to you, close and observing the flush in your cheeks.

Your eyes were meeting and it lit a fiery spark between the two of you but as you didn't want to give him the pleasure of it, you rolled your eyes and moved away. "That's a bit of a cliche, isn't it, Potter?" you stood up and stretched your back as well. "I don't do romance." you turned from James to Remus and smiled excitedly. "Shall we go and explore!?"

"Yes we shall."

---

Remus hasn't felt you this excited over some 'rocks and dust' in all the years he had known you but he had felt his heart fill with joy and love when he could see how a person can live for the small things in life. You didn't care about wealth or power, neither if a person was physically beautiful and attractive. You neither cared if person had its flaws, you still loved anybody for who they were; good or evil. You always tried to look the best in people and your gift was, that you always seemed to bring out just that out of everybody and especially out of him.

As the two of you had walked, he had realised that he wants to tell you something important to him. It wasn't a secret to his friends and family but it was a shameful secret to him and to everybody else.

"Can I tell you something?" he asked as the two of you were climbing up the hill.

"Yeah." you stopped, gasping for air and putting your hands on your hips. "I think we need to rest too." you smiled and he laughed.

"It's not that far. We're almost close."

"My heart is almost close to stopping too."

He laughed again and sat on the rock, finding the moon shining on him as if it was leaving its fullness from a few days ago. "I just have the need to tell you this... and I'm serious."

You looked up at him and found the moon perfectly cut out the colour of his green eyes. "Your eyes look so pretty in the moonlight." you said without any filter but sat down next to him.

"Thank you."

You smiled and looked up at the moon before taking a look of his worried expression. "What is it?" you shoved him a little as he smiled. "You can tell me your deepest darkest secret." you joked but it was no joke to him.

"Well... I'm... I'm a werewOlf." he stuttered out, trying to sound casually as he said so but unsuccessful.

You only stared in silence, clearly processing the information as he was impatient to wait for your reaction. Your eyes only narrowed at him and you nodded. "I knew it."

"You knew it?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"I mean, I didn't know it. I just know there was something to you that I couldn't put my finger on but I kind of knew it. It did cross my mind once but I brushed it off quickly. I didn't believe it but apparently my intuition was on to something." you laughed and stood up, offering him your hand. "Shall we continue?"

"You don't seem a tad phased by it." he took your hand gently and stood up.

"Oh, I am but I really don't mind people being people. You know?" you started to talk fast. "I don't judge people by their flaws, more by their actions and I don't seem why your werewolfness would bother me when there are far worse withces, wizards and Muggles in this world, who are far more worse than any werewolf I had encounter. Which, you're the first but still. You don't seem the one to eat children and howl at the moon."

He let out a loud laugh. "I don't eat children but I do the latter."

---

The two of you walked up the hill hand in hand, him trying to pull you up as his steps were much larger than yours. He was more of muscles than you, faster and careful as for you seemed to trip over a branch or two.

He had opened up as the two of you made your way to the top and started to walk on the flatlands. It stretched far away from the castle but you could see the ruins so clearly from the distance. The light of he moon made the subject far more pleasing to the eye and at that moment when Remus was talking to you and your eyes seemed to wander on the view- everything seemed to be perfect and you imprinted that moment into your memory so that you can look back and re-live it all over again.

As he talked, he seemed more lose and excited. He hadn't held back on anything. He had told you about Animagnus forms of his friends and how he isn't the only one who howls at the moon. Sirius apparently loves to do it just as well in his other form. He had constantly made you laugh by his full moon stories and how he accepted the awful fact of his life-long destiny of sharing his body with a beast.

He was glowing, literally glowing when he was telling you all the things he was hiding from you and for the first time, you were the one to listen and he was the one constantly talking.

"We're here!" he pointed at the ruins of an old castle. It wasn't big or notorious as Camelot or Hogwarts or any other historically known castle. It was small and poor in it's built but it was still a castle, just not the traditional kind.

He let go of your hand and it gave you a sort of an electrical shock as he did. You seemed to be so comfortable and in love of holding hands that you completely forgot what it was like without his fingers intertwined with yours.

It wasn't for long though. He had opened the old wooden door for you and offered you his hand to lead you inside. "After you, m'lady." he bowed as a gentleman should and you hurried up inside, taking him by the hand and leading him behind you.

Your wands needn't to be lit as the moonlight made it's own natural light through the large gaps between the rocks. Nature made it's own charm by growing vines around the walls, flowers and grass among the cracks. It truly did feel more magical than the magic itself.

"Oh, Remus look!" you ran to one of the walls and saw names carved in. "Ibzan." you smiled back at him.

"Old biblical name." Remus followed and saw many other names written around it. "Arthur." he laughed. "Wouldn't be an English castle without an Arthur in it."

"Tatiana." you looked at it. "Like a princess." you looked at him but he seemed to be very close to you, staring forward. His chest was against your back and his head leaning over your shoulder. You didn't have to look back. You could only move your eyes to the side and see him there.

He seemed to be so focused on the rocks in front of you that he hasn't even noticed you marvelling at him. All you could see, for the first time noticing his sharp, nicely structured side profile. His cheek bones were finely defined, his lips sharp and plump and his eyebrows nicely arched.

He truly was a beautiful boy and you hadn't noticed it till now. His palm was placed against the rock as he was supporting himself but when he had noticed you looking at him, he slyly looked back. A corner of his mouth quirked up and he said: "A girl doesn't need to be a princess to have a beautiful name." he spoke low and quietly.

The spark that James lit before was over-flamed by the passion Remus arroused in you. Before you knew it, he was leaning down and kissed you softly. One short kiss and it was enough to tempt you for more. You put your hand around his neck and pulled him down for me, smiling into it as you had felt him smile as well. As heavy as they felt, they seemed light as well because no kisses seemed to be as perfect as his; soft, teasing yet deep and passionate.

When he placed his hand on your cheek you could feel the dust set on your skin. You let out a giggle and he pulled away. "What?" he smiled but then just noticed how dark your cheek was. "Oh, my-" he let out a laugh, then looked back on the wall his palm was pressed on before. "I am terribly sorry."

You laughed as well. "Don't worry." you continued to laugh and wipe it away. "It'll probably wash away."

"Probably." he tilted his head a bit and gave you a peck. "And we should probably head back."

Putting your arms around his neck, you made a big stretch and looked up at the sky. "Ugh..." you looked back into his green eyes, burning your soul into sparks and bitses. "But it's so beautiful here." you let out a small whine and he chuckled.

"Well, (y/n)(y/l/n). I didn't think you did romance." he teased.

"I don't. I let the man do all the romance for me." you stepped on your tiptoes and brushed your nose against his.

"That's a bit unfair."

"I wouldn't worry if I were you, Lupin. I have time to make it fair."

"Glad to hear it."

[kindness-ricochets]

I’ve been seeing a lot of thoughts and hc of autistic wylan lately and you seem to also be a fan of the concept. May I ask why? Exactly? I could definitely kinda see it but wanna hear you thoughts you’re always so eloquent

Hey there anon! Sorry for the delay—I’m guessing you already found an answer to this elsewhere while I was off Tumblr for a bit, but just in case, here are my thoughts. This will be heavily personal, but… well, you can’t very well ask an autistic person about autism and expect neutrality!

Autism is different for everyone and can be difficult to pin down, so while Wylan is arguably autistic, he misses several beats that for me would have made him definitively and undeniably autistic. For example, when the bells start to ring, triggering black protocol—I work in a place with a lot of bells and am frequently caught too close to one and normally press my hands over my ears until it’s over because that sound is like shrapnel raking across my insides. All of them. Not just the ear and brain parts. Wylan doesn’t have that sort of visceral reaction, but that may just mean he doesn’t have the same sensitivities that I do, or to the same level. He also never, that I recall, eats meat—as weird as that might sound, eating meat is incredibly complicated with heightened sensitivities to taste and texture. I’m not sure how old I was when I realized it was strange to get up from the table to spit out my food because it viscerally repulsed me. So it might be that Wylan is autistic and has different experiences than I do. Those are things I would include in a story as major indicators of a character being autistic. This might also mean that his father’s way of raising him taught him to hide unusual reactions and stimming behaviors. It’s not that much of a reach to assume a man who tried to abuse the dyslexia out of his son would take the same approach to autism. (More on autism and abuse later.)

So while I’m going to lay out why I read Wylan as autistic, that’s why I think it’s valid to read him as not being autistic as well. Both are valid.

A final caveat, I am well overdue for a reread of the books, so I likely left something out or could have found better examples. Take this as a few of my reasons for a personal headcanon. Anyone who feels differently, that's fine! We can each read things our own way :)

1 - Hyperfixation: The way Wylan loves music

Most of the Crows’ backgrounds color how they see the world: Kaz’s shrewdness, Matthias’s tactical thinking and superstition, Inej’s faith and Suli wisdom, etc. That’s a sign of good character writing. But very little of Wylan’s upbringing seems to have influenced how he sees the world. It comes closest when he thinks about how his father would scorn his new friends, but we never see that scorn from Wylan.

The way a hyperfixation feels, it’s like you’ve always lived in a close parallel world, never fully been a part of the other one where it seems like everyone else lives, but suddenly there’s this bright shining piece of your soul laced through the other world. It lets you connect, it lets you exist in their realm, and you can’t help but filter everything new through that lens because it’s the brightest, most wonderful thing. (I had been between hyperfixations for a while when I started a new job; six months into that work, I read Crooked Kingdom. One of my coworkers thought I had fallen in love, it was that marked a difference.)

So, combining these: Wylan never really acts like he was part of his father’s world, and indeed is in some ways separate from the other Crows, but he parses everything through music, his hyperfixation. He sets words to music to remember them, like he does with the contract. Even his own anxiety is made sense of through music, when in his first narrated chapter, he sets it to music: what am I doing here what am I doing here…. When he’s overwhelmed, his thoughts are “a jangle of misplayed chords”. The Crows have backgrounds that influence how they react to the world, but Wylan’s hyperfixation is his means of experiencing and understanding the world.

2 - Literal thinking: Wylan responds to exact words

In this post, I went into detail on the line where Wylan suggested waking up men to kill them. Wylan is generally unsupportive of killing people—Oomen, Smeet’s clerk, his father… he advocates not-murder in each of these situations. Accepting his aversion to murder, his suggestion to wake men up and kill them seems like a genuine reaction to Jesper saying he doesn’t want to kill unconscious men. Wylan takes things literally.

This happens the most with Jesper, probably because Jesper talks to Wylan the most. Nina and Matthias don’t really register him past how he might be useful, Inej is usually quite direct, and Kaz is very deliberate when he speaks with Wylan. This really interests me because Kaz tends to vary his speech more than the others do, he adapts more to being around other people. He jokes a little with Jesper, spars with Nina, speaks more openly and more sharply with Inej, and he’s precise with Wylan. Kaz may not know what autism is, but he recognizes what’s effective with Wylan.

Another example is when Wylan is sketching the Ice Court plans and Jesper says it looks like a cake. There are plenty of valid responses here: pointing out that concentric circles look like lots of things, that it’s just a sketch, telling Jesper to stop looking over his shoulder. Instead, Wylan says that the Ice Court is sort of like a cake. That… doesn’t sound like something Wylan would normally say. He’s not addressing the whole situation, he’s addressing the specific words Jesper said.

One of the most heartbreaking examples of this (to me, anyway) is with Marya. Wylan does the same thing with his mother, when she asks if he’s there for her money and says she hasn’t got any, and his response is, “I don’t either.” We understand as readers that what Marya is communicating here is that she is so accustomed to being utterly ignored unless she is being used, and if she told Wylan that no one visited but to take advantage and she assumed he was here for the same reason, he would say it wasn’t the case. But he just responds to the immediate statement.

There are a lot of examples of this.

3 — 0% perception, 100% creativity

Wylan can identify things that don’t make sense or that he doesn’t understand, but at the beginning of the series he can’t make leaps, only ask questions. On the Ferolind, he wonders about the source of water at the Ice Court; though Kaz doesn’t say as much, he was clearly wondering, too, because he eventually figured out the underground river. There’s an interesting parallel here where, in the beginning of Crooked Kingdom, Wylan asks a question about how they’ll break into Smeet’s and Kaz tells him to use his eyes instead of running his mouth—at which point Wylan is able to figure it out. I don’t think this is because he never tried before, though, but because no one ever bothered to teach him. Kaz can be harsh but he gives harsh corrections rather than harsh rejections and Wylan learns from him.

It’s hard to understand the world for people with autism. The world is designed and run by and for people whose minds are fundamentally different from ours, whose thoughts and experiences are unlike ours. Imagine trying to learn English or Spanish or Mandarin or any other spoken language if your first language was olfactory. That’s sort of what it’s like for someone with autism to just get dropped into the world and expected to figure this out.

This can be attributed to Wylan’s upbringing, but I disagree with that because none of the others were brought up in the Barrel, either, and Wylan doesn’t understand trade or politics with any special skill. Kaz wasn’t born in the Barrel, but he managed to go from “stealing is wrong” to “wrong isn’t my concern” real quick; Colm Fahey didn’t raise his son on gambling and firefights; the Ghafas never expected their daughter to be away from the family. Only Nina has relevant training—and even that’s precious little, she left school way too early. The others figured it out; Wylan needed a bit more help. He also seems surprised by the way his father conducts business. Wylan takes things on face value—like the time he’s surprised someone would do something, simply because it’s unlawful. This is something he expresses to a group of gangsters. He’s never been taught the way of any world and these things are not intuitive to him.

But Wylan isn’t stupid.

He doesn’t know how to understand the world, but he does understand how things go together. Given a pointy diamond, a handle, and a screw, he cut through Grisha glass. He carries flashbangs and magic napalm, he recreates military hardware—Wylan understands how to make things interact for a specific result. But to me the most telling thing isn’t just that he puts together chemical pieces, it’s that he figured out Jesper controlled bullets. He saw the pieces and put them together.

Wylan can understand when things don’t make sense, but he can’t make sense of them—yet when he understands things at their basic level, he understands them without preconception, for what they are. This is a very autistic way of thinking about things, it goes back to the literalism. He can’t make the leaps of logic other people can, but he also doesn’t make the assumptions they do—“I’ve never heard of a bullet Grisha, so that’s not a thing” vs “Well Jesper’s an almost impossibly good shot and he controls metal and bullets are metal, so why not?”

4 - Broken brain/body connection

Wylan’s great at chemistry and drawing and playing flute or piano—but he’s something of a disaster other times. This is in particular contrast to the other characters, all of whom are physically adept. Meanwhile it’s a challenge for Wylan to climb a rope ladder and he spends a full paragraph trying to figure out what to do with his hands. It’s easy to say, well, he’s used to a sedentary lifestyle, but at this point he’s not. He’s worked in the tannery for months. He’s just physically awkward.

I have less to say on this point only because it’s about something I don’t fully understand myself. I don’t really understand what it would be like to have a body that just… does things? Like normal stuff? Without tics and stims. No idea. Only that Wylan’s discomfort in and seeming lack of mastery of his own body feels very relatable to me.

5 - Abuse

One of the most familiar things about Wylan is how he has been so thoroughly abused and broken down that he’s afraid to do or say much of anything. Again, this is a place his background can be an obscuring factor. Of course Wylan didn’t think to blow up the walls when the first met the parem-juiced jurda and got trapped, he’s a spoiled rich kid! Except, he also startled when Jesper said his name later. Wylan didn’t hesitate because he was spoiled, he hesitated because he had no confidence.

He also thinks Kaz would laugh at him for playing music at his mother’s grave. Now, personally, I can’t see Kaz laughing at Wylan—being indifferent, thinking it’s pointless sentimentality, shaking his head, maybe commenting sharply that they need to go if they don’t have the time. But not laughing. Kaz is a snarky, sharp-edged jerk sometimes, but he doesn’t go out of his way to criticize, he just lets people know when they inconvenience him.

Wylan has been trained to identify attention as negative by an overbearing abusive father who literally saw him as less favorable than a demon. Now, that may have been hyperbole, but Jan criticized everything he could about Wylan—art, music, emotion—and made clear that he was worthless and competent to nothing. (Jan Van Eck can suck a rotten donkey dick but that’s neither here nor there.)

A lot of people with autism experience levels of bullying that have similar impacts. Or as the kids these days are calling it: we go to school. We go to school where we are weird. Where we look weird and move weird and talk about weird things and there’s a whole little bevy of asswipes to makes sure we know it. I got teased more for playing Pokemon and sitting alone reading than the kid who pissed himself onstage at assembly. (This was before Pokemon was cool. I’m old.) And that is not unusual for autistic kids. It’s also not unusual for this to be compounded by relatives or even parents who may be trying to help but don’t understand and can make things even harder.

So we can’t read social cues and we’re taught at a vicious age that everything that comes naturally to us is wrong. Imagine trying to interact in society with that background. There is no guide and most advice from neurotypical people isn’t actually what they mean. It breaks you down.

Wylan’s anxiety isn’t definitive of autism, but isn’t something that was incredibly familiar as someone whose neurodivergent experiences created a strong level of anxiety.

6 — High Compassion, Low Social Competence

Wylan isn’t very good at making friends. In fact, none of the Crows likes him much in the beginning, and only some of them soften toward him by the end. (Matthias and Nina come to respect his skills as a chemist but neither seems to particularly like him.) But you can see throughout the books that Wylan wants to connect with them and be one of them, he just… isn’t. He’s off-beat. He’s weird. He asks questions and mimics behaviors (trying to be cool and tough like Jesper, saying “mission” like Matthias does, imitating Kaz’s scheming face) but he doesn’t quite get how to adapt.

But he still cares about people. Not just them. Everyone. He cares about the people they leave in the ditch outside the prison wagon, he cares about Hanna Smeet, he cares about Alys. He cares about the people who’ll take a hit from Kaz’s sugar caper.

Wylan’s awkward social skills have undeniable big autism energy. I posit his compassion does as well. This is simply who Wylan is, and that means being someone who cares about everyone. I have nothing to back up that this is related to autism. I can say that it’s like me. (Not to brag.) I can’t turn off the part of my brain that says everyone matters. Individuals can opt out of that compassion, but they have it by default. There’s a certain agony in feeling a pull toward and love for just about everyone and yet an inability to develop meaningful connections with them, and that keen loneliness… it just burns.

Again, it’s not definitive of autism, but it’s very similar to an autistic experience.

I said in the beginning that I didn’t think Wylan certainly had autism and I stand by that, but he is a powerfully honest reflection of many people who do. So he can be understood to have autism, and that’s part of the reason some people have that headcanon.