#hope you all realize I love their dynamics

[cecoeur]

How do you sleep at night? No one to hide behind Betrayed every alibi you had You had every chance to make amends instead you got drunk on bitterness And you still claim that you're innocent, it's sad

[totally-titular]

When I think to myself about the male loneliness epidemic or the absolute exhaustion I feel explaining what feminism is to a man who doesn't think it's necessary for the millionth time, I think about isolation and how being told you're monstrous by one population can push you right into the arms of true monsters that tell you they'll accept you so long as you act just like them.

I think about how isolation is the first thing abusers push for in relationships because they understand how that dynamic works. How forcing a partner to strip away their friendships leaves only one damaging connection. How complicit religious institutions are in enforcing that isolation.

I think about high school bullies, the kind that gang up on you because that's the only way they know to fit in.

I think about my nephew. I think about my nephew, and how he gets angry when he gets in trouble, but once he realizes he's done something that hurt someone, even accidentally, all he wants is to kiss away the boo boos and make sure they're okay.

I think about holding that little boy close and telling him he is loved, he is loved, he is loved, and hoping desperately that that's enough to keep him from the alt-right pipeline as he grows up.

God, I hope it's enough.

But here's the thing. If it's not? If he grows up and puts a confederate flag on his car? Demeans women, glorifies violence? I wouldn't stop loving him and treating him kindly. Reaching my hand out in the hopes that, one day, he takes it, even if he slaps it away a thousand times. That's what love is.

But I wouldn't condone his behavior, wouldn't stay silent. I wouldn't tell him I'm proud of his decisions, because I can't compromise my own morals to soften the blow of my disappointment.

But there is no world in which I would tell him that he is irredeemable, that he is monstrous, that he is unlovable by virtue of the parts he was born with. You can judge someone by their actions, sure, but actions can change. Minds and hearts can change. They just need a hand.

This is an incredibly nuanced topic, but at the end of the day cruelty begets cruelty. Kindness may be what we're missing. Kindness is not capitulation, and it's not people-pleasing. It doesn't have to be sacrificial, and in this case it should never be at your own expense.

Men are lovable. Men have the capacity for kindness and goodness and joy and peace and laughter. Men are a people capable of great feats of strength and vulnerability. Men deserve to live the life that they want... But not at the expense of everyone else.

For those men who are trapped in the alt-right pipeline, there is a way out, back to kindness. Back to respect. Back to basic human decency. All you have to do is decide - do you want to be the kind of man who is loved, or do you want to be the kind of man who is feared?

Take my hand.

I get the good intentions behind it, but something feels off about responding to the observation that white cishet men are becoming radicalized towards racism and misogyny with "maybe you should have been nicer to the men"

[pouralaura]

This is like THE question of the ages but here goes. Is your Raphael capable of love? It is my understanding that devils are capable of an obsessive, manipulative, perverted version of it; but the Raphael in your fics has a particular human fallibility that is endearing, and a willingness to entertain those follies (for the sake of his favorite mouse) that I’m wondering if it’s possible that he would (accidentally) fall in love in a mortal sense, going against his fiendish nature (it would have to be a very special mouse). I’d love to hear your take on his fiend/human dichotomy. 🫶

what a fabulous question. thank you for asking! I've thought a lot about this and I always come to the same conclusion: yes, my Raphael is in fact capable of love. there is a "however" which I will get to shortly.

let me first say that I really simply do not care about canon. bro lives in my head rent-free as his own entity and does not necessarily fit DnD/BG lore in that space. that's just a disclaimer, take it as you will.

Raphael's love with my Tav (both generic and my Eris specifically) is definitely just magnetic obsession at first until they realize how hard they match each other's freak. he power plays and power plays and power plays, letting his mouse in ON HIS TERMS ALONE until it's too late and she's as much a part of him as he is of her. fwiw, Tav/Eris's love is the same as his - but his makes him more human and hers makes her less, all for better or for worse. and I think his capacity for love has so much to do with the other person in the equation, which is extremely human of him - Tav pushes him back and needles him but also worships him in her own way, taking on some of his traits the more time she spends with him. some of that is unconscious and some is fully intentional. it's all a part of the Game, which, for her, is Understanding (literally figuring out what makes him tick), while for him it's Winning (taking what he knows of her and using/manipulating it however he wants). Raphael is a narcissist and naturally loves himself most of all, but once he sees himself reflected in another person I think that unlocks a new layer of longing and deep connection within him.

I've used the lyric I won't speak of love since the beginning of writing about the two of them and it's always gonna fit. Tav/Eris knows what the feeling is on both sides, because she is 100% human and overly perceptive, intuitive, and insightful. but she is smart enough not to push that understanding onto Raphael because attempting to force him to admit what he perceives as a weakness would destroy their dynamic.

which brings me to my main point: again, yes, he is capable of love. he is even capable of unconditional love.

BUT

he will not accept that about himself, even for a moment. his love is obsessive and manipulative and perverted OF COURSE but it's also his purest emotion, which is an embarrassment. he will ignore the truth of what it is fully out of pride. if Eris pushed him to acknowledge it he would drop her in an instant and shed all remaining traces of his humanity. it's simultaneously the strongest connection he has with anyone and the thinnest tightrope of a line they could possibly walk - but they complement each other so well that they've somehow found that perfect unacknowledged balance. Eris is prideful too but understands that to maintain the status quo she MUST swallow some of her pride and allow Raphael to keep up appearances for his own sake - which is one of her major ways of showing love from her side.

he loves her purely and earnestly and deeply but he will ALWAYS love himself and his image more. some might say that means he is not capable of real love but I think the two can coexist! people are complicated!

this is fun to think about and I really hope it makes any kind of coherent sense all written out.

[keyslox]

cc! & c!bitterduo own my heart also dX)

[fistfuloflightning]

I just really love Dusty and Mayday’s relationship, the way they care for and look out for each other

[webanglikethat]

first of all, fuck you anon.

the whole "Radha wasn't groomed because she’s smart" argument is so incredibly stupid (I had no idea people THIS stupid even existed) and honestly, insulting not only to her character but to victim of grooming in general. just because someone is strong, smart, or independent doesn’t mean they are immune to manipulation, and to suggest otherwise is to completely misunderstand what grooming actually entails. do you know what grooming is? or did you just read some age gap dark booktok novel and think you know everything? you think because Radha is educated and knows how to lead, she’s impervious to manipulation? newsflash: that’s not how it works and to suggest otherwise is so foolish and fucking insulting. I hope you never meet a victim of grooming in real life, I pray for that — and I’m an atheist.

just because Radha’s mother, Vidya, taught her to be strong and aware of manipulation it doesn’t magically shield her from every predator who might come along. let me ask you this: do you think every smart, powerful woman is automatically immune to the nuanced, long-term manipulation that comes with grooming? do you think having a strong brain is all it takes? you will never get hurt? ever? spoiler alert: this is not about being naive, or stupid — it’s about power dynamics. age differences, control, and subtle psychological manipulation don’t always look like someone forcing you into a corner or brainwashing you into doing something. sometimes, it’s all about slowly wearing someone down and making them think they’re in control, even when they aren’t. according to psychologist Dr. Jennifer Freyd’s research on betrayal trauma, individuals who experience manipulation and betrayal, especially in close relationships, often suffer from a delayed recognition of the abuse. why? because the trauma is internalized so deeply that it takes time for the victim to even acknowledge they’ve been manipulated. mind you anon, I’m smart. I’m studying psychology. I can speak 5 languages. guess what? I was abused and manipulated. do I not exist in your world? am I not a victim? no seriously, do enlighten me.

the entire premise of grooming is that the victim doesn’t always realize it’s happening until it’s too late. and yes, Radha may have been aware of men using their power in the past, but this was a different kind of manipulation. Raj was clever enough to exploit the very things she thought were keeping her protected. and let’s not pretend the age difference doesn’t matter just because they both feel something. Raj is 30 and Radha is 18. no one is raising alarms?? so you want to tell me that a 30-year-old man, no matter how charming or appealing, is on equal footing with an 18-year-old girl trying to make her way in a world that already doesn’t want her to succeed? REALLY? do you even go to school, genuinely? like OH MY GOD. let’s make one thing clear: an 18-year-old has nowhere near the life experience or emotional maturity of a 30-year-old man, and that's exactly what makes this relationship so problematic.

at 30, Raj has had years of life experience, training, and wisdom (though apparently he’s not smart enough to realize what he’s doing is wrong). he’s been through the emotional ups and downs of adulthood, taught by the best, navigating the world who sucks his dick for simply being a man and having power, he’s most likely been through a bunch of relationships, and experienced different power structures in ways Radha—at just 18— simply hasn’t. he knows how the world works. he knows how to manipulate situations, how to get what he wants, and how to pull on someone’s heartstrings to make them believe they’re in control. no matter how strong or intelligent Radha is, she doesn’t have the same years of experience to see the emotional manipulation at play.

when you’re 18, and a man like Raj tells you he loves you, you believe it. why wouldn’t you? you haven’t been hardened by the disappointments and betrayals that come with adult relationships. at 18, love feels intense, all-consuming, and real—and it’s easy to mistake that intensity for something pure and meaningful. you WANT to believe it. you want to believe this man loves you for who you are. Radha, at 18, is still figuring out who she is. she’s in the middle of a MASSIVE transition: she’s learning how to step into leadership, abandoning childhood and entering adulthood, and figuring out how to exist in a world that already doesn’t give her the respect she deserves because she’s a woman (look at how people treat Devi despite being the heir). she is still trying to understand her own power, her own worth.

and here comes Raj, a man with years of experience, presenting himself as her lover, her confidante, and possibly her protector, feeding her the narrative she wants to hear. he knows exactly what to say to reel her in. he knows how to appeal to her vulnerabilities, how to use his experience to make her feel seen, heard, and loved in ways no one else has made her feel. and she, in her youthful exuberance and inexperience, believes every word of it. why? because she’s still learning what love should look like. for fuck’s sake I AM 18 TOO and guess what? I too am more likely to want to believe that someone older and wiser is acting in my best interest.

so anon, don’t sit there and pretend like this is some simple, equal partnership. the psychological power imbalance (hope this isn’t too complicated for your tiny brain) in this relationship is massive, and Raj knows exactly what he’s doing.

what you’re glossing over is the fact that Amrita’s fiancé is not some passive character in this scenario— he's a grown-ass man with agency. Raj is not some idk fucking helpless puppy who couldn’t help himself from falling for Radha. he’s an adult who made an active decision to continue a relationship with Radha while also being engaged to Amrita. you’re blaming Radha (18-23) for being involved with a man (30-35) who willingly pursued her and continued to do so despite being in a committed relationship. that’s on Raj. not Radha.

now, let’s talk about the so-called “friendship betrayal.” first of all, it’s never implied they’re close friends. just because you grew up around someone, it doesn’t make you close friends. this idea that Radha is some villain for having a relationship with Amrita’s fiancé is completely ignoring the bigger picture: Raj is the one who betrayed Amrita’s trust, not Radha. he is the one who made a COMMITMENT. the real question is: why is Raj still pursuing Radha while already committed to someone else? but hey, let’s just blame the teenage girl in the relationship and pretend Raj was a passive bystander who couldn’t possibly help himself, right? let’s blame the other woman! THE TEENAGER.

also, imo Radha’s decisions cannot be analyzed through a modern, 21st-century lens. she wasn’t in a position of true equality, free to make choices without external pressures. the fact that Radha is being criticized for a relationship with Raj, who is a much older man, completely disregards the power dynamics of their time. you think Indian women have it easy? the concept of a woman having autonomy over her body, her emotions, or even her relationships wasn’t something widely accepted back then, and still isn’t! (I’m desi, don’t try to argue).

AND. Oh. My. God. are you seriously going to sit here and say that making Radha a victim of grooming somehow makes her a “boring” character? that is the most tone-deaf, reductionist thing I’ve heard all year. congratulations, you won this.

-> so, what, the moment someone experiences harm or exploitation, we should just discard their emotional arc because it doesn’t fit some heroic, flawless narrative? that’s not how human beings work. just because a character experiences something painful or difficult doesn’t make them any less interesting. in fact, it makes them more multidimensional, because we’re seeing how they respond to those situations, how they grow from them, or sometimes how they struggle with them. Radha being a victim of grooming doesn’t flatten her—it makes her MORE interesting because we’re watching her navigate a complicated, manipulative relationship where she’s being used by someone more experienced and powerful and by the end of it, she even gets pregnant and WILL BE FORCED TO SLEEP WITH DEVI’S UNCLE.

the argument you’re making is essentially saying that only perfect, unscathed characters are worth caring about. that’s simply ridiculous. being a victim of grooming doesn’t make Radha “flat”. YOU are reducing her to some simplistic trope of the “innocent woman who doesn’t know better” and missing the point that her journey is about finding out what’s been done to her and coming to terms with how to reclaim her agency. THAT is the heart of character development. if Radha’s journey were simply about being a perfect, flawless leader without any emotional depth or complexity, that would make her boring.

and honestly, the fact that someone would even DARE to suggest that a character’s experiences of trauma or manipulation somehow reduce their value or depth shows an actual shocking lack of empathy. my bad for thinking you guys have a heart.

also back to “Radha is too smart to be groomed” // cults are an obvious example here — people in their 30s, 40s, and even older have been lured into these toxic environments and guess what? those people are often not some naive, uneducated “fools” but highly educated, well-established adults. I mean look at the many documented cases of people far older than Radha who have fallen victim to manipulative tactics. there are countless stories of educated, rich, established successful adults being groomed by people who know exactly how to prey on their weaknesses. manipulators don’t just target “dummies.” they target people who are seeking connection, people who are vulnerable to flattery, or people who have been conditioned to doubt their own worth or instincts. manipulation doesn’t care about your age or your IQ.

when we (and with we, I mean cunts like you) dismiss victims' stories based on ignorant assumptions—whether it's about their intelligence, age, or any other arbitrary factor—we're doing the predators' work for them. we are telling victims that their pain doesn’t matter, that their reality is somehow invalid, that they must have deserved it, or that they’re too smart to be manipulated.

so no, Radha isn't 'too smart' to be manipulated, just like no one else is 'immune' based on their age or intellect. you don’t need to be an idiot to be preyed upon. you just need to be human. so, before you throw around judgment, maybe take a minute to think about what you’re really saying about the victims of manipulation—because, honestly, the way you’re talking about Radha makes me wonder if you even understand what true strength looks like in the face of abuse or if you know what abuse even entails.

snippet from my wcs analysis

Okay so I saw the post about Radha, Raj, and Amrita and I want to say something about it but I am afraid to contradict some of the people because they seem a bit unreasonable and would attack you for your opinion. The also are insulting people who agree with it. So I am going to explain why that person said what they did or potentially why. This comes from somebody who is an avid reader I read visual novel games, fanfiction, and books I have 10 plus years of reading with critical thinking of details in stories and understanding of characters.

Okay let’s start with the whole Radha is groomed I am of the opinion that did not happen based on how the Basu family is described. You think Vidya, Doran, or Sara would allow Raj to live if any of them believed he manipulated and used Radha for his gain. Grooming victims are described as being naive easy to manipulate that is not Radha at all she is being taught how to become a leader in time when women in power were looked down upon. You think part of her education from Vidya wasn’t about being able to spot manipulations from men who would want to use her and manipulate her. You think Radha wouldn’t do anything to a man who thought he could use her as an example of why not to mess with her like what Sara did to Rati when Rati insulted Sara. To me to say that Radha is a victim of grooming by Raj is an insult to Radha and her intelligence and her capabilities of being a leader you are saying that when a good looking guy comes into the picture all of Radha’s training disappears. My interpretation of how this relationship started was that it happened when Devi was in Bombay which made Radha 18 when this relationship started I can’t find information on how old Raj is but the oldest I think he is is 30 which is not a great look but from the interaction that we see while they are at the mountain retreat is that Raj is trying to end their relationship because even though BOTH of them have feelings for one another it is not the time for their families bloodlines to unite Radha is the one who says no let’s continue this affair in secret because I am what you want and we should be together. In grooming relationships the groomer has all the power in this relationship it looks like equal partnership with them. Also we know that Sara and Radha believe that men are tools for their entertainment you think a women who think men are like animals for their amusement can be manipulated and controlled by one. You guys don’t think Sara wouldn’t kill Raj if he groomed and used Radha her twin Sara straight up killed someone to protect Radha’s secret which means that Sara knows that BOTH Radha and Raj went into this willingly together. I want everyone to know that in my opinion guys Vidya knows about Raj and Radha. When Vidya tells Raj you are practically like family to me she is saying that she knows Raj is the one who got her daughter pregnant and she is not happy at all. I believe that part of the reason there is tension between the Basus and Doobays is because Vidya knows about the affair and is mad at both Raj and Radha then that anger multiplies when Radha gets pregnant. I also believe the reason that Vidya is not passing the reins to Radha is because she knows about the affair with Raj and believes that Radha needs more training before she becomes leader of the dozen and the Basu family. Vidya loves her daughters and I get the impression that if anyone hurt or used her daughter she would kill them no matter what and I guarantee that Doran would be there to help Vidya.

Let us move on to another topic people who say that Radha owes Amrita nothing. You do remember that Amrita is/was friends with the Basu twins. Which means that Radha slept and had a relationship with a friend’s fiancé. I could never justify doing that to someone who was a friend to me. Also the reason that Amrita is not close to her friends is the fact she is engaged and is learning about her future role along with getting to know her future husband. I also don’t understand how Raj can get to know his fiancé as a person and continue seeing someone else. Raj has hurt Amrita she knows that Raj doesn’t love her and she will be trapped in an loveless marriage, but can you imagine the pain of knowing that someone who was friends with you was sleeping with your fiancé behind your back and your fiancé cares about them more than you. I also love Radha as a character but I can hate and be critical of her choices this is what makes her multi dimensional and a fascinating character making her a victim of grooming makes her more flat and not as interesting of an character. I also believe that everyone missed the point of what the poster of the post was saying Radha and Raj are BOTH to blame for this situation they both knew better but continued it and now there is fallout because of their actions. Radha and Raj both hold blame on this no one forced this relationship they both willingly went along with it. Raj being the older one who also wanted to stop his relationship with Radha should have stuck to his original intentions Raj is older and is already a leader he knew better then to continue the affair, but it doesn’t excuse Radha because when she became older and almost became the the official leader Radha knew better as well then to continue her affair with Raj. Amrita is truly the only one who has no blame in this and everyone loves to hate on her when in reality Amrita is a victim in this and is going to experience unbelievable pain and betrayal from this. Some people missed the point on the post both Radha and Raj deserve equal blame in all of this no one is saying Raj is an angel because he is not but not enough people point that out the fact that Radha is 23 when she gets pregnant she knows better then to continue this affair and face possible repercussions of her affair with Raj. People treat Radha like she was forced against her will to be in this relationship when she wasn’t at all Raj and Radha were equal partners in their relationship. Therefore the both hold equal blame for what happened. Radha is no angel and that is okay because no one is in this story is and that is what makes everything so interesting.

Well that's a big confession 🤯

Sorry but we cannot edit such a big confession, even if we try would be a mess ( fun fact: we did try and turn out to be 5 images 😬)

This is something to have in mind before sending a confession, the length of the confession shouldn't excess 100 words, thanks!

-mod lyn

[lollytea]

I get to write Willow and Amitys weird awkward friendship in this fic I'm so excited!!!

[fate-defiant]

I can't believe they put my boy Mytho "does fucked up shit to himself because his entire identity and self image relies on being loved(in the right way by the right people)" and my girl Rue "does fucked up shit to everyone else because her entire identity and self image relies on being loved(in the right way by the right people)" togehter in the same show and never did anything to meaningfully juxtapose and explore All That

[whoviandoodler]

Issues I've had with MFMM S3 in the most recent rewatch, or: an incomplete and incoherent rambling about some of the things that really annoyed me about it

I've recently finished rewatching miss fisher's murder mysteries for some 5th-10th time since I originally saw it years and years ago on FOX Crime or wherever and it's been a completely different experiences to previous rewatches. I have to assume because I grew up quite a lot so things that used to rub me the wrong way until I was raw no longer hold the same sway over me, but I found scenes previously unbearable perfectly fine to watch (annoying, but nothing especially enraging), and characters that I despised merely unlikable. In short, it was as immensely entertaining as before without certain hindrances, and the main attractions (jack and phryne's relationship, the found family, amazing acting and fun mysteries) were no less attractive.

However, I also developed an issue with the third season. Prior to rewatching the show (while I was still trying to convince myself i totally wouldn't go back in the 30+ hrs runtime trenches), I rewatched an analysis I'd seen years ago (possibly around my previous rewatch, knowing covid time) made by a creator whose work I like, and she dedicated a section of the video to some of the things that bothered her about the last season. I was a bit confused, to be perfectly honest, because I didn't remember being at all bothered with it the last time I watched it, and certainly not with the things she mentioned (and more importantly, I had no issues with the writing).

And then, uh, I got to the third season on the rewatch. And at first I was like, ok, this is perfectly fine. A little bit odd in certain moments, but not all that bad. And then the problems kept piling and piling through the seasons, and I kept pacing and pacing and noticing more and more things about it that bothered me.

The main problem, and I imagine the reason my then-self didn't really notice anything (apart from my all-encompassing rage at hugh collins that blinded me to anything else), is that the character writing isn't outright Bad. Like, it's not the kind of bad where you throw your TV out the window because how dare they do that to your blorbos, but it is the kind of bad that festers in your show loving heart until it forms 'It's plausible that they might do that kind of... I guess?' It's the kind of bad that takes a bit of thinking to figure out why your brow furrowed in this or that scene until it smoothed out.

So let's talk about that scene in s3e1 where jack does his 'i'm not part of the parade' monologue, the thing that bothered the analyst but that I distinctly remembered being silly and entertaining. I mean, he gets drunk and goes on a tirade over a misunderstanding while phryne stands there baffled, unsure whether she should laugh or not. This is where the 'i guess?' starts, because like, absolutely, it's not the first time in the show he's been jealous, nor the first time he's been incredulous or eye-rolly when he finds out phryne's had a dalliance with this or that man. It's plausible that all those sentiments would come out the way they did with alcohol involved and after being stood up twice, first for what was possibly supposed to be their first foray into more serious territory, and then again that night. It's not a scene that paints him in a favourable light, but that's not in and of itself an issue, he's got his faults and that's one of the things that make him interesting to watch. But arriving on the heels of the caustic remarks and biting sarcasm and refusing to listen to phryne at all to the point that she got borderline upset hours before, it felt less silly and in character and more like a nail hammered one time too many.

It set a trend too for the rest of the season, and not a nice one. All those jealousy scenes created two situations- the first, where phryne would respond indignantly and in character to how she'd been in previous seasons, on the rare occasion he'd actively made a remark (was it even more than once? i can't remember); and the second, where phryne would run after him, explaining that 'it wasn't like that', like she was cheating on him. The second option was especially hard to watch because their reactions genuinely read like she'd done something wrong when that wasn't the case at all, and like the analyst said the narrative went so far as to shame her with that moment at the air base fence (for the first time in the show! previously jack's reactions had been light-hearted and phryne had responded in kind, usually saying something witty or teasing him; the second they became that of the betrayed partner, it got a sour note).

For the sake of adding drama and an unnecessary explanation as to why they haven't railed each other yet, the show killed the wonderful dynamic they'd rocked thus far, that of very close friends who are attracted to each other and probably in love but who haven't quite decided what to do about it yet.

It was like the show lost all faith in it's audience to imagine the reasons behind their reluctance, to understand their characters, to believe this truly outrageous (/s) situation of two friends in love who don't get together (yet). Like it's not a tale as old as time for people to be afraid romantic involvement with their friends might ruin that friendship, and choosing not to take the risk. Like we don't know that phryne has never had a serious relationship, and that jack has never had anything but; that her dalliances with other men are all about sating her curiosity about different people's lives and minds and pleasure, that she firmly embodies the rich aristocrat and keeps the little collingwood girl firmly on the other side of the door; that he stayed in a failed marriage for ten years because he's always serious about the people he loves, that he nearly married concetta because he cared about her and didn't want her to be married off again to somebody cruel.

And speaking of lack of faith, did they think we needed to be reminded every five minutes in various clear-cut and glaringly obvious ways that they love each other? Like we know! We're watching the show! We don't need guido and concetta and the greek chorus to slap the note in our face. This isn't a children cartoon and they didn't suddenly fall in love in s3e1 for the entire cast to lay on the horns, we've been watching them fall in love through every touch and look. Honestly, there was more subtlety in sanderson's 'you do indeed keep close company these days' than the entire italian episode.

The entire thing felt like they were insinuating that the second phryne and jack try for something serious the entire thing falls apart, and they go from dear friends to a reddit post. Despite all their surface differences, the reason they're in love is their deep-seated belief in truth and justice, and the reason they're as close as they are is that they don't keep things from each other and they communicate. I don't think it's in character, or even worse, I feel like it's a very sad choice of character path for them to lose their whimsy and trust the second they delve into the romantic, like it's a whole different thing and not just a different lens through which to experience the intimacy they already share. I would've much preferred that they'd either continued their whimsical friendship until the last episode, or even that they'd gone down the vulnerable road of talking more about their respective issues; frankly, i would've settled for a long term friendship over the mess that they ended up creating (I'm queer, I can sustain myself on subtext).

That area of jack writing aside, what the hell did they do to my boy's murder solving skills? I swear, there were at least a couple episodes where he didn't contribute anything to the investigation, or he did so little it was imperceptible.

In s2e9 (the cinema one, i think that was the number) I distinctly remember phryne laying out what she thought happened (at the very beginning when they found the body) and jack staying silent and giving her a besotted look, and afterwards hugh saying it matched what jack had surmised earlier. This was amazingly done, because it very economically established 1. that jack had already done the clever bit 2. that they agreed fully so there was no need for their usual back and forth, and most importantly after their huge, sad rift had just been surmounted, 3. that he was incredibly happy to be working with her again because he loves listening to the cogs turning in her head and watching her be clever.

There was none of that attention to detail in those s3 episodes, he was just... not involved. Phryne would lay everything out and then they'd leave, and that was it. It felt wild to witness because in different scenes he acted as he always did, like their dynamic was the same as always. I didn't get the impression that he was having a bad day, or not in the mood, because in writing those things need to have some significance or note, and here it was just there. Not noticed, not significant, not anything; fully like they'd forgotten that they put him in the shot and thus gave him no lines.

I really can't explain how much it irked me because the main appeal of the show isn't the murder investigations, as fun and clever as they are, it's the relationships between characters. The point of the narrative shouldn't be solving the crime, it should be all the things that happen while it's being solved.

In short- how dare they rob me of the sparks of phryne and jack exchanging theories and opinions?! That's what I'm here for! The sexual tension isn't just the looks and touches, it's what preceded them and keeps them so fresh and electric- it's them standing over a body or in the morgue or in her parlour and being clever at each other and with each other, the push of sharing an opinion and the pull of daring the other person to catch up with you by giving them only the raw information, the resonance of interacting with someone who's on even footing with you.

It's like 3 am and I've tired myself out so I'll stop here. Obvious disclaimer for anyone who might see this is that this is based on my impression of the show and i won't go back to watch just the bad parts solely to write a coherent, sourced analysis (aka I'm going off the things that left an impact on me, they might not be given the most screentime or note), and that this is still a favourite show and not meant to be an indictment of the whole thing (I only get so annoyed bcs i like it otherwise).

[nomstellations]

is it not hypocritical to say we shouldn’t police people on what they enjoy for vore and then get upset about familial vore? /genq

i think i'm well within my right to criticize such a thing in fact, anon. i dont think i ever spoke of policing anyone who enjoyed it- i cant stop anyone from liking it but it makes me viscerally uncomfortable and i avoid interacting with it. i think you're misreading what i said, i didnt mean ALL TYPES OF VORE are cool and we should do what we want forever, because uh. we shouldn't. like the people who swallow live animals whole, or the people who sexualize and draw fetish work of real life people without their consent, and incestuous/underage vore content. please don't twist my words into implying i'm willing to excuse anything under the vore umbrella

you shouldnt police someone for liking digestion when you don't, no! but there's a line in the sand you have to draw where certain things become unacceptable and thats where that line is drawn. even in a safe, wholesome, nonsexual context...you have to acknowledge that power dynamic is very creepy and can make people VERY uncomfortable, esp when it has been used to groom people. its something i feel is better left alone- i can think of a dozen different ways to protect a baby than swallowing them whole. as always i just ask people to like. put it in perspective. think of how that comes off to others, think of why it's as controversial as it is, and think about why its commonly banned from a lot of vore spaces. it gets way too close to incestuous material for most people's comfort in a nonsexual setting and in a fetish setting thats downright unlawful.

[orcelito]

Revealing myself as a 98 vashmeryl truther by how I write vash and meryl's interactions in itnl

[gluion]

i hope you all love “the perfect pair” …

[unproduciblesmackdown]

eddie bracken as orville wingait in summer stock (1950)

[lavellane]

ok. ok. i think im finally (mostly) settled on elspeth's ending and her handling of the landsmeet in particular. illegible hysteria below

i spent like 20 hours of this game hyping up an alistair/anora alliance but i dont think i can do it in practice im too weak Lol. BUT i do like the idea of trying it anyway and it falling apart bc everything always falls apart in this universe. so yeah, alistair does do the dual in the end, despite what i said the other day (he's the one who at this point wants to be king. so why not) much to ella's horror. the detail i mentioned about loghain being the only person to defeat her in her tourney days still carries symbolic weight, because it was ELLA who trained and mentored and levelled alistair up through the blight. shes like babe if i cant beat him you shouldnt risk it !! and so him then BEATING loghain regardless is a nice lil "student surpasses the teacher" moment and also drives home that ella is a good commander and theyre both stronger than they were.

ofc this means alistair obviously goes rogue and does what he does at the end of the fight — regardless of the promises of mercy ella made to anora and their attempts at an alliance lol. which sucks and its not as neat a solution, but emotions were high and its understandable and also L + ratio + loghain sold elves into slavery. ella got her vengeance over howe earlier so shes like sigh ok anyways. SO. the alliance is a bust, but alistair is hardened anyway so its not the end of the world. he rules alone post canon with ella still as adviser and his mistress, BUT :) im thinking about him refusing to take a wife in this path, specifically because he's trying to convince ELLA to marry him and make it official. she always rejects him but its in an ahaha.... unless 👀 kinda way that encourages him to keep trying. i mean the only reason she doesnt feel like she can is bc Duty and Responsibilities and Obligations blah blah blah..... ALL of which she could still honor while being queen. so yeah. completing her story and having her reaffirm her grey warden duty + alistair's king duty, and their mutual dark ritual sacrifice, but with the open ended possibility that a happier ending IS possible at some point ! when she's ready ! maybe after she cures the taint :) who knows

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

FIREFLIES NEVER CAME ; SATORU GOJO

synopsis; your seat is close to the heater. that’s the only reason gojo comes there to warm up.

word count; 4.2k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, teen!satoru, set in a canon au, mutual pining, fluff, a little bittersweet (melancholic winter vibes <3), introvert/extrovert, reader is antisocial and dense as a brick (black cat vibes :3), also kind of self-deprecating, satoru is very shoujo manga coded, just lots of puppy love!! feat. wingman!suguru <3

a/n; this wasn’t meant to be a fic …… it was gonna be really short and sweet ……… (T_T) anyway i am very fond of this reader/character dynamic so i hope you enjoy reading abt my emotionally stunted kids 🫶 biggest mwah in the world dedicated to professor logan (@staryukis) for teaching me about physics so i could find a loophole in satoru’s infinity :3c all for the sake of lore-accurate (kinda) fluff <3

”what are you listening to?”

your seat is close to the heater. 

it was nothing but a lucky draw, really. yaga-sensei was organizing the desks when you transferred, and so he gave you the first choice; one you had no trouble making, latching on to the chair in the very back, right by the window, right by the sole heater of the room. vital for surviving your chilly winter classes. 

so there you sit. a warmth sneaks through your fuzzy socks, tends to your restless legs. your feet tap and tap, on the cold floorboards, in rhythm with your never-ending thoughts, spinning like a planet in orbit.

through the fogged-up, frosted glass of the window to your left, you observe the world. headphones covering your ears, safe and snug, muffling all noise. you watch as snow falls, wholly entranced, eyes stuck on the icy snowflakes descending from the wool-gray sky — blanketing the frostbitten landscape of the courtyard. it’s pretty, all those skeletal trees, glittering and gleaming like they have something to say. sometimes they look like stars.

”… hey. did you hear me?”

gojo is being particularly chatty, today.

out of the corner of your eye, you see him wave his hand right in front of your face. you’re almost certain he doesn’t realize that it’s rude; he must be used to all eyes being on him, from the moment he speaks.

with a flutter of your lashes, you lift your weary head. meeting his gaze, the blurry shine of your own visage, reflected in his circle-frame glasses. a soft tilt of his head, and then his lips are twitching upwards, just barely, snowy strands gliding across his forehead and falling over his face. like an excited puppy.

”what are you listening to?”

you read the words off his lips, all sound muffled by your headphones. quick to lift one of your hands, pulling one one of the heavy ear cushions away — letting all white noise in the room flood your senses. the snarls of the wind outside, ieiri’s laughter, the scribbling of geto’s pen against paper. 

it’s overwhelming, but a small price to pay. his voice is softer than usual, during moments like these; there’s a pleasant lull to it.

gojo tips his head to the right, still awaiting your response. all you can do is stare, watching your own reflection, fingers gripping onto the edge of your desk. as if seeking to ground yourself.

with a spoonful of hesitance, you part your lips.

”… do you like music?”

the words seep out into the air, a softly exhaled breath. gojo watches you, silently, for just a moment.

then he gives you a shrug.

”i guess?” he hums, shifting his weight from one foot to another — hand slipping into the pocket of his uniform. ”that’s more suguru’s thing.”

ah.

your mouth forms around the syllable, as if responding, but not making any sound. gaze fleeing from his glasses, crumbling under their weight, straying towards the frosted window to your left. safe, familiar, rotting trees and twitching branches. snow just as pure as the boy in front of you.

silence overtakes you both, once more. 

”... not gonna answer?” he asks, with another tilt of his head, absently rocking side to side as he lets out an exhale. ”is it a secret, or something?”

(it is, you think. but you can’t say it out loud.)

before you can part your lips again, the classroom door slides open — and you know it’s yaga-sensei just by the way his feet hit the floorboards, the decisive weight behind every step. you know even before he’s telling you to get back to your seats. 

on cue, gojo stands up straighter, shooting you another glance. bright-eyed, easy-going, every star in the sky leaping out from the glimpse you get of his eyes when he angles his body. two blue pools, flecked with white, like frozen puddles in the street. 

and then he’s strolling away.

gojo leaves, and you take off your headphones; stretching your legs underneath the desk. reaching for your ballpoint pencil, flipping open your textbook, and indulging in sleepy blinks, as yaga begins to drone on and on. you stifle a yawn with the sleeve of your blazer, resting your jaw on the heel of your palm. eyes inevitably straying towards a head of white hair.

but your name is called before you can get lost in your daydreams. 

”page 27, from the top.”

your chair scrapes against the floorboards, as you sluggishly stand up. holding onto your textbook, flipping the pages until you land on the correct passage. with shaky hands, not enough to notice, you read out loud; voice controlled, almost monotone. all you can think is that you feel his frost-clad eyes on you, from the row straight ahead.

but you continue to speak. you speak until you reach the end of the page, until you’re allowed to take your seat again, happy to feel the warmth of the heater radiate against your legs. it’s this warmth that’s important, the most important thing of all.

without it, gojo wouldn’t bother to stop by your desk.

nearly every recess, as soon as yaga leaves the classroom, he’s waltzing over — leaning against the wall, stretching his arms out, purring contentedly as heat spreads throughout his body. you think he must run cold. chatting with you, just to pass the time, just until your teacher comes back. just to warm up.

then he’s leaving, again.

that’s all it is. a cold boy, and a heater by your desk — a conversation that otherwise wouldn’t have occured. even the strongest is vulnerable to changes in temperature, you suppose.

if warmth is all that binds him to you, it’s bound to dwindle away.

(you’re sure he’ll stop as soon as spring comes.)

the next day, gojo is nowhere to be seen. you saw yaga-sensei drag him out of the classroom this morning; something about a clan meeting, something you weren’t paying attention to.

but now you wish you had.

(it’s quiet, without him around. eerily so.)

with nothing to lose, and nothing else to do — you push your chair away from your desk, and walk up to your classmate, a question on your mind.

”… music? are you looking for recommendations?”

you nod. 

geto blinks. caught off guard, you’re sure, surprised that you’d approach him without any prior coaxing. he’s usually the one striking up a conversation with you, like a responsible class president, making sure the weird kid doesn’t feel left out. you’re almost certain he doesn’t realize that it’s patronizing.

”hmm... well, that depends.” he gives you a smile, soft around the edges. it never feels as genuine as gojo’s, but it’s calming. ”what kind of music do you usually listen to?”

…

you glance down at the floor. bundling up the cuffs of your uniform, fingers clawing softly at the fabric, bottom lip trapped between two sets of teeth.

”… what kind of music does gojo like?”

silence. your words are barely spoken, just above a whisper, just like always, but geto picks up on them anyway. you can tell he does, can feel the weight of his keen eyes on your face. analytical.

then he parts his lips.

”… ohhh.” a low hum, ripe with meaning, buzzing at the bottom of his throat. the corners of his lips quirk up into a knowing smile. ”i see.”

heat rushes to your cheeks, blossoms under your skin. if he notices, he’s even more composed than you thought he was, because he doesn’t mention it. only continues to speak, in that soothing voice, crossing his arms in silent thought.

”hmm…” you follow his gaze, out towards the window, the same webs of frost as always. it’s not snowing, but you still can’t see the blue of the sky. ”i’ve never seen him listen to music before, so i wouldn’t know.”

you can’t help but deflate, at that.

geto only smiles. exhaling, through his nose, mildly humoured — though he’s good at hiding his amusement. ”… what do you think that means?”

a blink. your lashes flutter, as you gaze up at him. 

”… huh?”

”satoru doesn’t listen to music, but he wants to know what you’re listening to.” he says the words almost coachingly, like he’s listing off a string of numbers. you realize he must have been listening in on your conversation, but it doesn’t bother you nearly as much as his tone. ”what do you think that means?”

…

(you haven’t got a clue.)

geto lets out a chuckle, laced with mirth, no longer trying to hide it. paired with a soft shake of his head, a crinkle to the corners of his eyes. ”why do you want to know about his taste in music, then?”

(… that’s a good question.)

he seems to notice your hesitance, your apprehension, the way your teeth seek to trap your bottom lip; always the victim of your muddled mind. you know the answer, of course you do — but it isn’t something you want others knowing. 

thankfully, geto breaks the silence for you.

”i don’t think you need to try so hard, when it comes to him.” his voice is soft, almost sincere, something warmer than usual. glancing away when you meet his eyes. ”… he isn’t worth the effort, anyway.”

but that’s where he’s wrong.

satoru gojo is a special case. a special person. in the orbit of your life, there’s no star you’d rather keep — no one quite as ripe with colour. 

geto couldn’t possibly understand, because gojo is always with him — always orbiting around him. he always will, until you graduate, probably even beyond that. geto has him. they’re the strongest, a pair, always matching their steps to one another. but you only have these quiet days, these chilly classes in between never-ending missions — and that’s all.

when the frost outside the window thaws, gojo will surely stop visiting your desk. your lonely little world. 

that’s exactly why — you need to find a song. if you just teach him about something wonderful enough, if you can give him something other than warmth…

(… maybe he’ll stay with you even after spring comes.)

”next time, why don’t you say what’s on your mind?” 

geto’s suggestion breaks you out of your thoughts. when you raise your head, to meet the warm pools of amber in his eyes, he gives you a smile. there’s nothing patronizing about the way he’s looking at you now — if anything, you think it may even be slightly fond, but you can never tell what he’s actually feeling. he’s frightening, like that, always a mirror to whatever situation he finds himself in. a chameleon, tilting his head at you.

… though you can’t help but fall victim to the kindness in his eyes. the velveteen purr of his voice.

”i’m sure he’ll appreciate that.”

a nervous pit opens up in your chest, an empty space that gnaws incessantly at your heart. will he?, you want to ask, but it feels like the words are made out of lead. you can’t get them out of your throat.

”… okay,” is all you end up whispering, a soft lull of your tongue. ”i’ll try… thank you.”

geto rewards you with a full smile.

”don’t mention it.”

spring is closer than you thought.

it’s all you can think, when you step onto the pavement, when you feel the morning air gnaw at your frostbitten cheeks. it’s freezing, it’s winter, but the signs of changing seasons are still there — a lonesome snowdrop, the crackle of an icy puddle beneath your feet. the frost is beginning to thaw. 

in a month or so, spring will be here — there’s no stopping it.

”did you bring your card?”

your headphones rest around your neck, allowing you to listen in on your classmates' conversation. all four of you are together, for once, all first-years, walking towards the nearest konbini — at gojo’s insistence. 

it’s been a week since you had that talk with geto, but you still haven’t made any progress with him.

”huh? was i supposed to?”

”… are you kidding me?”

you glance up at the pair. always walking just a little bit ahead, their tall statures obscuring the view in front of you; shoko lags behind, with lazy steps, a trail of tobacco drifting out into the crispy air. all while snowflakes fall from the sky, gently, landing in your hair, on your shoulders, melting on the inside of your palm when you hold it out to catch them. watching as they turn into droplets of water, slip through the gaps between your fingers. 

someone taps your shoulder.

geto has snowflakes stuck in his hair. they’re melting, in the strands of ink-black framing his face, matching the colour of the thick polo jacket he’s wearing. a bright red scarf is tied around his throat, and there’s a weighty look in his eyes — something telling.

a silent cue.

he falls back, slowly but surely, into ieiri’s lazy pace. not before murmuring something unintelligible to gojo, and shooting you a wink — one that makes you frown, confused, a low heat blooming at the base of your spine and crawling up your neck.

and then you realize what he’s done.

gojo is looking right at you, through the black glass of his specs. only wearing a baseball jacket, no gloves or scarves to keep him warm, despite the harsh bite of the open air. for a guy who runs cold, he must not put much thought into his clothing. 

more importantly…

it’s just the two of you, now.

you blink at him, silent as a mouse. it only takes a moment for him to start moving, for you to follow, taking your place beside him while staring right ahead. if he’s bothered by geto slinking away, he doesn’t show it — only continues to walk.

”… that’s so unfair.”

gojo’s voice breaks the silence. you turn your head to gaze at him, the way his lips wrap around the vowels, haphazardly hanging onto every word he speaks.

”just ’cause i have clan money,” he kicks at a pebble on the side of the road, wisps of white hair swaying with a shake of his head, ”suguru thinks i should pay for our snacks. isn’t that unfair?”

you hesitate. then you nod along, absently.

he seems to take that as a yes, because it makes him brighten — as if gleaming with your approval, standing a little straighter, puffing out his chest with an exhale that turns into white smoke.

”right? they only give it to me because they want me to come back to kyoto, anyway…” he trails off, holding the tip of his tongue between his lips. ”… not that it matters. anyway, i just think he’s oppressive.”

”… mm.”

from this angle, you can see a sliver of his eyes. can see the way he steals a glance at you, without even turning his head — hands slipping into his pockets. there’s a moment of silence, until he’s parting his lips again. 

”… i can buy some for you, though.” 

(you barely pick up on the words, spoken almost in a whisper — as if an afterthought.)

he clears his throat.

”… if you don’t have the money, i mean.”

you can’t help but blink, at that — lashes fluttering in rapid succession, wondering if you heard him correctly. he doesn’t seem keen on elaborating, though. walking on, ignoring all snowflakes descending from the sky, eager to nuzzle in between his locks. his infinity keeps them out. 

”… why?”

it’s all you can say. all you can verbalize.

(in a story like this, why would the brightest star of all orbit around someone like you?)

gojo gives you another glance. his iris cuts into your skin, observes you on what you’re sure must be a molecular level. he lets silence linger, for a moment, tipping his head back to look up at the sky.

gray, and more gray. flecks of white. you’d see the same thing he does. 

”hmm…” he lets out a breath, head falling forward again, snowy strands ghosting against the skin of his forehead. ”let’s call it a trade.”

another series of blinks. 

gojo turns towards you, then — a fresh grin blooming on his lips. white teeth, pink gums. it makes him look boyish, innocent, just another city boy with too much time on his hands.

”i buy you snacks — and you tell me what music you’re always listening to.” he bends his body forward, tilts his head at the same time, all lanky and charming, like a big cat. ”deal?”

you stay silent.

he’s looking at your headphones, still left neglected around your neck. your gaze falls down to the icy concrete, the thin layer of frost, waiting to be melted by the first sunrays of spring. whenever that will be. 

geto and shoko are still behind you — you can hear their low, muffled chatter, smell the remnants of tobacco in the air. and you swear you can practically hear geto’s words, echoing through your head.

(why do you think that is?)

gojo is still looking at you. expectantly, lips curled up into a lazy smile. he’s waiting, you know he is, and you also know he isn’t very good at that. you know a lot of things — what you don’t know is what to say. you don’t know if you can believe in whatever geto was insinuating, don’t know if you can grapple with your own longing to do so. 

(next time, why don’t you say what’s on your mind?)

geto doesn’t get it. he doesn’t know what your feelings towards gojo truly look like. doesn’t know that what’s on your mind when he’s around is always something horrifically embarrassing. something like, i want to know more about you, or maybe i wish i could tell you more about me. something awfully cheesy, like — i’m jealous of how bright you shine, but i can’t help but like you anyway. 

if i become your friend, would it be okay to say i understand your loneliness? that i notice it, even just by a fraction?

would that be okay with you?

(words that should be left unspoken.)

”… well, it’s not like you have to.” gojo exhales, again, the words a heavy weight seeping past his throat. his shoulders slump, as he turns forward, fingers trailing up to scratch at the back of his neck. 

all you can think is that he’s getting ready to leave. that nothing will change, at this rate, that spring will wash winter away. that geto should be more direct with his advice, and that if it’s not the music itself that gojo is interested in knowing more about, then surely —

” — i don’t listen to anything.”

gojo stills. the words have flown past your lips before you can reach out and grasp them, slicing through the open air.

he spins around, glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose at the sudden motion, exposing his widened eyes. those white lashes, fluttering softly, like a pair of doves eager to get above ground. you grip onto the insides of your pockets, warm and cozy against your freezing hands — it grounds you, keeps you tethered down to earth, down to him. 

”music,” you continue, sputtering slightly, as if your lungs don’t quite know how to work under pressure. winter air seeps into your windpipe, cuts the skin there. ”i don’t listen to music.”

you lift your hands, fingers curling around the soft earmuffs wrapped around your neck, hesitantly meeting gojo’s gaze — an overlapping sequence, blanketing his view. then you’re gazing down. 

”it’s just… comforting,” you try to explain, speaking softly. ”to wear them. white noise.. tires me out, so…”

the sentence trails off, unfinished. you feel silly. silly for saying anything at all, for building it up so much. silly for being the way that you are.

but when you look up at gojo, he’s brightened like a star.

white teeth, pink gums, that breathtakingly boyish grin. his blue eyes gleam with colour, almost spilling over the corners, like watercolour paint on a too-small canvas. he tilts his head, looking at you carefully, as if truly seeing you for the first time; absently swaying side to side. 

if he had a tail, you’re sure it’d be wagging.  

”i see!”

a silent breath spills into the air. your lips part, but no sound comes out, only vapour; heart pumping blood through your writhing veins, warming you up from the inside, a co-conspirator to the heat blooming in your cheeks. gojo continues to speak.

”i guess that counts,” he nods, crossing his arms with a satisfied hum. ”alright. i’ll get you any snacks you want! you can be greedy, it’s okay.”

a murmur of thanks escapes you, although you’d like to tell him there’s no need. something tells you denying him this would be like taking another step backwards, in this budding connection between you.

(… if you can even call it that.)

geto and ieiri catch up to your unmoving figures, finally, and only then does gojo spin on his heel and pick up his previous pace. calling back to you over his shoulder, a smile you can’t see but still hear.

”just don’t give any of it to those two, yeah?”

”cheapskate,” ieiri calls back, lone cigarette hanging between her lips. geto lets out something like a chuckle, his shoulder brushing up against yours.

you watch gojo’s back as he moves forward. unbothered, untethered. you think of him a snowflake in the breeze.

spring is almost here, now. it’s a bittersweet feeling, to know your conversations during recess will surely dwindle out — but at least you’ll have had this. one normal conversation, the knowledge that he was curious about you, even if you may just be the classmate by the heater in his eyes.

you’re too cold to keep him warm all on your own, so there’s no helping it. you’re willing to accept that some stars only show from the surface during winter. 

you’re willing to accept this. it aches, a little, but you’ll be okay. 

”i’ll take it things went well, then?”

geto is wearing his signature smile, when you look up at him. an expression of carefully concealed composure, lips curled up, but a knowing look in his eyes — something that borders on teasing.

you give him a nod, a bow of your head, to silently convey your appreciation. chameleon or not, you don’t really mind his ways. it’s hard to fake the warmth in his voice, when he speaks.

”i’m glad.”

the two of you watch gojo’s back, like birds gazing out at a body of water. silence lingers.

”won’t that moron get cold?”

ieiri’s voice cuts through the mold of your mind, low and gravelly, right beside you. she’s pointing towards gojo — the flimsy jacket he’s wearing. 

you’re wondering the same thing.

geto casts her a glance over your head, before gazing down at you, seemingly noticing your curiosity. he lets out a low hum; reaching a hand out to brush away the snowflakes on his shoulders. 

”temperature,” he begins, slipping his hands into his pockets; that familiar coaching tone to his voice, purposefully slow. ”is just a measure of atoms in rapid motion.”

you tilt your head, in tandem with ieiri — looking to your classmate for further elaboration. he seems to enjoy your confusion, lips curling up just a bit. gojo calls out to you, in the distance, waving both his hands, and geto returns it with a wave of his own.

an amber eye flicks towards you, an explanation on his tongue. ”his infinity can regulate that motion.”

… another tilt of your head.

geto lets out an amused breath. it scatters out into the air, a cloud of smoke, almost a chuckle.

”basically…” he sighs. ”he does just fine, in the cold. don’t worry about it. he’ll keep himself warm.”

ieiri mutters something, beneath her breath, something like you could have just said no, but you don’t really hear it. you think your heart must have climbed up, somehow; got caught in your windpipe. 

ah.

gojo can keep himself warm.

the thought spins inside your mind, over and over, a realization that makes your inner palms feel clammy. stupid, silly, this pitter-patter of your heartbeat. but what else could it mean? if the cold doesn’t bother him, if he doesn’t run cold, then…

(he wouldn’t need it. he wouldn’t need it here, wouldn’t need it during recess, within the chilly walls of your classroom. he wouldn’t need it to stay warm.

gojo isn’t after your heater. if that’s true, then…)

…

you bury your nose in the soft wool of your scarf. breathing in the fading scent, vanilla and cinnamon, grounding you to earth, lingering in your nostrils. distracting you from the rush of warmth, that blooms in the frostbitten apples of your cheeks. 

as if sensing your thoughts, or maybe just noticing your embarrassed expression, geto laughs — soft and breathy, shoulders shaking to your left. you hear it, only nuzzling deeper into the comfort of your scarf. feeling your heartbeat spin out of orbit.

in the distance, gojo continues to wave, yelling out something unintelligible. you could mistake him for a star.

spring is almost here, now. in just a month or so, it’ll be at your doorstep — waltzing right in. 

(but you aren’t worried.)

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for sabotaging my boyfriend's hookup with his girlfriend by filling his sex playlist with DJ Crazytimes

I (28NB, they/he) have known my boyfriend (call him C, 29M, he/him) for some 15ish years now. As long as I've known him, he has been on and off again with his girlfriend (call him T, 29NB, he/him). Respectfully, and with love, C and T are two of the worst and most annoying people I know. I want to marry them both specifically so that I can study them under a microscope like a parasitic virus.

Technically they're monogamous, but they're both hooking up with other people (myself included), usually the same people, because they have the same taste in lovers (bad). I have suggested that they give actual polyamory a try, and they reject the idea wholeheartedly. I think they get off on their dynamic, and far be it from me to try more than the bare minimum to dissuade them from it.

A couple months back, they got into a fight and broke up (again) because T (who was unemployed at the time) stole $50 from C (who works at GameStop) so that he could pay for a tank of gas (using C's car) to go hook up with another guy a couple states over. C was not upset that T was hooking up with another guy (because he was Also hooking up with that guy and knew he would not have a leg to stand on), but because of the stolen money + car.

C and I currently live together, because you can't afford an apartment on a GameStop salary, and also, like I said, he's my boyfriend. I'm making carnitas tacos next Friday, and T is coming over, because despite everything, he has nothing else to do on a Friday night. I know that C and T are going to get into a huge fight, and I know that it's probably either going to end with them getting back together out of spite or with someone's vehicle getting keyed--I'm betting on both.

Here's where I think I might be the asshole. I would really like to get inbetween them. Not in a "I don't want you to date each other" kind of way, but in a "holy shit you are both so insufferable i would like to get in on that" kind of way. I currently have my thing with C, and I've hooked up with T once in the past, but I would really like to make it official with him as well.

My plan is as follows: C and T are going to be in the same space again next Friday. They're going to fight, then hook up, then get back together again. C is one of those cybersexual "i built my own computer and run it on Linux" people, which is to say, he thinks tiktok and youtube are evil, and he he thinks spotify premium is supporting megacorporations. So, his sex playlist for T (we do not have our own sex playlist) is just an actual folder of mp3 files.

While C is at work, I'm going to log into his computer and change several of those mp3 files to DJ Crazytimes' Planet of the Bass, which I play often, and he is frequently annoyed by. My hope is that he'll realize it was me, he'll come and yell at me for ruining their hookup, T will take my side to piss him off, and the tension will get to the point where they let me join their hookup, and I can ask to date both of them after that.

To be clear, I recognize that I'm also Incredibly Toxic for enabling and encouraging this behavior. That said, I feel like I'm justified in this scenario considering C and T are both Also toxic, and furthermore, it is a known fact that I'm dating C right now, so for them to hook up, C would technically be cheating on me. I asked C's sister (a childhood friend of mine) for her take on whether it would be funny or just annoying, and she just told me that we all deserve each other, so I think I should be good. Am I being uniquely shitty here?

What are these acronyms?