#i know there are so many labels people use and it can also be complicated or fluid

[whump-polls]

interested in some demographics, so

[hypotenussy]

You know what? Maybe I'll get through college purely for the sake of learning to write strong academic papers to prove my mom wrong about things.

[adragonsfriend]

Y’all Remember Ahsoka was Raised as a Jedi Right? Right?

Many things bother me but one of them is depictions of Ahsoka that act like she wasn’t raised as a Jedi for her entire childhood.

Idc if she left, or a was a “rebel” (and she really wasn’t) she is still emotionally regulating via regular meditation, still remembers her crèchemates and crèchemaster as the central elements of her childhood, still can never smother that deadly drive for compassion in all things.

Its the difference between seeing culture as a costume you can put on or take off, and seeing culture as what it is: the shared knowledge which shapes every aspect of our lives in ways we often do not even realize.

“But we’re never told who her crèchemates or crèchemaster were so I can’t write about them”

Skill issue. Literally a skill issue. Failure of imagination. Failure to look up namegenerator.com.

“But she likes fighting”

And? So do Obi-Wan and Mace. She learns multiple times why it’s important to temper her desire to solve everything quickly by fighting.

“But Anakin is her dad and Padme is her mommy and she wanted a trad family”

Well she met Anakin as a teenager and knew him for 2 years, whilst having several other much older adults in her life as well, and doesn’t treat Anakin as a father at all. Older brother is the closest analogue to our words, and the only useful label is ‘Jedi Master of unusually close age’. And she like, talked to Padme a couple times, mostly in professional capacities. Also at no point in any media I’ve heard of does she express a desire for any kind of nuclear family, parents, a romantic relationship, or to raise a kid of her own. Years removed from the jedi, she ends up taking a student. Not quite a padawan, but a lot more like a padawan than a child (in the sense of son/daughter/etc)

“But she left!!!!!!!”

Cool. Yeah. Leaving the place you were raised in and people you were raised with immediately removes all of the ways those things shaped you, everyone knows that. Get out

But seriously, even if you want her to leave, think it was the best decision she ever made (I, personally, have a decent argument that leaving was in that moment a far more mature and interesting decision for her than accepting knighthood would’ve been, and it had excellent narrative potential we’ll ignore whatever came after that in tcw, rebels, etc) she should still have a complicated relationship to the culture she was raised in. Something she misses about living there, some negative culture shock to living in another culture, people she misses other than Plo or Anakin. Making her into a caricature who thinks “meditation is boring and stupid” and some such nonsense, is not doing your argument any favours.

[bohoteacher]

Navigating Betrayal: Reconciling Admiration with Disillusionment

Like many Neil Gaiman fans this month, I've been shocked and distressed by the news regarding the SA allegations. I won't go over the details, as they're readily available online. I'll start by saying that I believe the accusers, and even the most lenient interpretation of events is still troubling enough to discredit Gaiman. For a long time, I didn't know what to say. I was just shocked and, somewhat naively, felt betrayed. I don't typically idolize actors, authors, or other public figures—I'm here for the characters, they're who I love and believe in. So, how did I end up believing in this man and his rhetoric?

I only had a parasocial relationship with him, which is to say no real relationship at all. But I took his Masterclass on writing, spent hours taking notes, and learned from him. I feel betrayed by someone I saw as a beloved teacher. I know this is insignificant compared to what the women who came forward experienced, but it's a valid feeling, and I needed time to process it. My initial reaction was to throw out and discount everything he’s ever written or done—of course it was.

This isn't just about my love for Good Omens, although how can it not be? I learned so much from this man—about writing, about not being too hard on myself, about the creative process. I read his books to my middle school classes, and we all learned how to be better people from them. Today, I saw and bought Instructions, a children’s book by Neil Gaiman illustrated by Charles Vess, from the used bookstore where I volunteer. It was a used copy, so no royalties will go to him. It’s a beautifully illustrated book where the main character walks through a land that clearly symbolizes life, learning lessons like saying please and "if any creature cries to you that it hurts, if you can, ease its pain." How could someone write this and then do what he did? I asked myself. "What an evil hypocrite," was my first thought. But then I recalled a line from another author, Stephen King. In The Stand, a character is described as "awake at the lectern, but asleep at the switch," meaning they know the right thing to do and can talk about it, but in the moment of choice, they act without integrity.

I don’t know if I’m making sense, but I think it’s too easy to label Gaiman as simply evil, as if he intentionally manipulated us by saying the right things just to make us read or watch his creations. The reality is likely far more complicated. Within this man is the amazing, thought-provoking, life-affirming wisdom that many of us have tried to live by, but also the hard, thoughtless, selfish cruelty that led him to abuse young, vulnerable women. The wisdom does not justify the abuse, and the abuse does not nullify the wisdom.

I think it's too simplistic to say Gaiman is despicable and always has been, hiding it from us all along. This doesn't acknowledge the complexity of human nature—that there is potential for both good and bad within us all. As it’s said, possibly by Terry Pratchett or possibly by Neil Gaiman, “It may help to understand human affairs to be clear that most of the great triumphs and tragedies of history are caused, not by people being fundamentally good or fundamentally bad, but by people being fundamentally people.”

Gaiman is a man who has done some fundamentally good things and some fundamentally bad things. I can’t forget either one.

This is just my opinion. I know some people want to cancel him, while others want to exonerate him. You do you. As for me, I will continue to love Aziraphale and Crowley. I will continue to read and create fan-fiction. I will continue to find comfort and wisdom in books that have meant so much to me over the years. But I will also remember that they were created by a very flawed man whom I can no longer trust.

I understand that opinions on this matter vary widely. I know some people might feel that not discarding everything associated with him is wrong, but this is where I stand. I’m not looking to debate this or be told how I should react. I just needed to process my thoughts in writing and move forward in the way that feels right for me.

[heliza24]

I want to talk a little bit about Daniel in the Interview with the Vampire show, because the new trailer material has me stuck thinking about him, and also I’ve never written about how meaningful he is as disabled character to me before.

I don’t see many people thinking about show!Daniel in these terms, but he’s a canon disabled character. And I think the way he is written is just SO good. The acerbic wit, his relationship to doctors and his medication, his rueful acceptance of the way his disability has changed him. It is all so correct!! It’s really incredibly rare to have not only a disabled character written this well but specifically a chronically ill character written this well. His illness is always present; it doesn’t get forgotten about by the story. It gives Daniel insight into the vampires (more on this in a min), but it also gives Louis and Armand leverage over him. When Louis triggers his Parkinson’s symptoms? Deeply not ok. But that’s what made it such a great scene, and really made Louis feel dangerous and threateningin that moment. Armand and Louis arranging Daniel’s meds is a sign of great care and also great power over Daniel. It’s the perfect way to communicate the complicated power dynamic in their relationship.

I also just fucking love that this show takes place in 2022 and doesn’t erase the pandemic. Covid is a very present concern for Daniel and I cannot describe how validating that is for me as someone who is clinically vulnerable to Covid and who has had to really limit my life and take a lot of precautions because everyone else has decided to stop caring whether they pass on Covid or not. The fact that Daniel gets on a plane to Dubai is a BIG DEAL. He’s risking his life to talk to Louis and Armand before he’s even in the room with them. He really wants to be there. I have to make a similar calculation every time I travel, and trust me, getting on that plane knowing getting sick could spiral you into even worse health or kill you is really hard.

I think making Daniel disabled and including the pandemic is kind of a genius level decision on a thematic level. Of course Daniel is now facing down his mortality, which gives him a whole new lens on the vampires and the fact that he once asked them to turn him. And the pandemic further highlights his fragility, and is also possibly being used as a cover for drama that’s happening in the vampire world. But I think it also really sets Daniel up as a foil to Louis.

There’s a lot of analysis of the vampire chronicles that reads vampirism as a metaphor for queerness. But I would actually propose that it’s a much neater parallel for disability and illness in a lot of ways. So many of Louis’s initial experiences after being turned resonated with me, as someone who became chronically ill in my 20s. My appetite and relationship to food completely changed, much like Louis. My relationship with the outdoors and the sun changed, because of dysautonomia and allergy reasons. I was very mad, and very depressed, and I too have missed out on birthday parties and big life events like Louis did because I was too sick to go. Hell, you can even say that the way that Louis is treated as evil by his family, that the way vampires literally can’t be a part of society during the day, is reminiscent of ableist exclusion and ugly laws. (Ugly laws were laws that forbid disabled people, especially those with visible differences, from being out in public, and they were on the books in many American municipalities until the 1970s.) You can look at Lestat being an out and proud vampire in the first few episodes on the season and imploring Louis to leave his shame behind as a queer thing, but you can also view it as a disabled thing. Disabled people are portrayed as monstrous so often (and in a way that has gone relatively unexamined compared to say, the queer coded villain trope) that sometimes it’s just easier to embrace that label: I’m the monstrous Crip, but at least I’m not ashamed of or disgusted by who I am anymore.

I do think the real strength of this adaptation is that while you can find parallels between queerness or disability or other forms of marginalization with vampirism, ultimately it’s not a one-to-one parallel. It speaks to the real world but ultimately it is a gothic horror story about supernatural monsters. So I don’t mean to say that vampirism directly equals disability, because it does not. But I do think that making Daniel disabled was an intentional choice to help draw out some of those parallels, and I think the text is richer for it.

So Louis and Daniel have had these kind of parallel experiences of uncontrollable and difficult things happening to their bodies. It sets them up perfectly as foils, and even, I would argue, as the A plot and B Plot protagonists. This is one of my favorite ways of kind of examining the structure of a TV show (or maybe it’s that most of my favorite shows seem to be structured this way?). When TV was all episodic, it would be common to refer to the A plot (mystery of the week), B plot (interpersonal drama happening as the mystery gets solved) and C plot (any overarching plot tying the season together) in an episode. Now that stuff is serialized, there’s often a main protagonist, who has the main dramatic question and the most agency, and then there is often a secondary B plot that explores similar themes and mirrors the A plot, or presents a second main character who is the ldifferent side of the same coin” to the main protagonist. (My favorite example of this is Flint and Max in Black Sails, and I’ve also made the argument that Wilhelm and Sara fit this pattern in Young Royals.) In IwtV, Louis is obviously the main protagonist of the show, especially in the A Plot, which is the stuff taking place in New Orleans/Paris. But I would argue that Daniel is the protagonist of the B Plot set in Dubai. At the very least they’re intentionally set up as mirrors of each other:

They are both unreliable narrators, who are struggling with the way memory contorts (through memory erasure, illness, deliberate obfuscations, and just the passage of time). The most recent teaser trailer, where we hear Louis saying “I don’t remember that”, with panic in his voice, further underlined this similarity between Louis and Daniel to me. I don’t know if it means that Louis has also had his memory tampered with, as I’m assuming Daniel has, but I do think it means that Louis is going to be struggling with feeling out of control of his own narrative more in season 2, a thing that was already starting for Daniel in season 1.

They are also both locked into power struggles with people more powerful than they are. The fact that Louis is under Lestat in the flashbacks and above Daniel in the Dubai scenes in terms of power/status makes it all the more interesting. And, if we want to go ahead and assume that the Devils Minion’s years have happened in the past by the time we get to Dubai— it’s possible that both Daniel and Louis are united in being the less powerful partner in their own respective fucked up gothic romances.

They’re also both the audience’s entry point into their respective stories. Louis’s narration guides us into the world of vampires. Daniel’s questioning satisfies our human curiosity in Dubai.

I think one of the things that makes the show so special is the way that these two protagonists interact. In a lot of shows the a plot and the b plot stay pretty separate. I love talking about Black Sails for this because I think it’s such a good example; Flint and Max never exchange dialogue the entire show, even though they’re so clearly affecting each other the whole time. But the way that Louis and Daniel clash in Dubai is so exciting. We see them both wrestling for control of the narrative. It’s thrilling to watch and it just hammers home the theme of how complicated and changeable stories can be.

I am SO excited to see how the Dubai scenes play out in season 2 because of it. I really can’t wait. I’m really hoping we’ll see Daniel and Louis’s relationship evolve in surprising ways, and I’m holding my breath that we’ll get a lot of Armandaniel material to work with. (I have a whole other post drafted that’s much less smart than this one and is just me waxing poetic about Devil Minion’s theories which I may post at some point. You have been warned.)

I do have two wishes for Daniel in the new season, and they’re 1: that he gets to have romance/sex, because disabled (and older!) characters are so often seen as unworthy of being desired, and I would like to see that challenged and 2: that he continues to refuse to be turned/is not offered a vampiric cure for Parkinson’s. The magic cure for a disability or chronic illness is probably my least favorite disability trope, because it serves to erase disabled characters and representation from the narrative, and I want to see my experiences continue to be reflected in Daniel’s. That means that whatever ending Daniel’s story has will probably have at least a bit of tragedy baked into it, but I’m ok with that.

[watermelonsloth]

Hiruzen and Danzo are more complicated than people give them credit for

It says it all in the title.

Hiruzen and Danzo are among the most hated characters in all of Naruto, and I’m not entirely removed from that crowd of haters. They’re probably among the easiest characters you can argue are just bad people. Or, at minimum, people who did horrendous, unjustifiable things (or allowed them to happen in Hiruzen’s case). However, I think that because people hate them so much, no one wants to take a closer look at their characters and the more complicated/human reasons why they make the choices they do.

Hiruzen is spineless and that’s a hill I’ll die on, but he’s spineless in one of these most sympathetic and realistic ways I’ve seen depicted in media. Specifically, he’s the walking talking representation of the fallibility of compassion. Hiruzen cares about so many people so deeply that he would rather stand by and let people get hurt than to hurt them himself. He ignores the fact Danzo keeps trying to kill him because he knows he’ll likely have to execute him as retribution and he doesn’t want to kill his best friend, he turns a blind eye to Orochimaru’s dark side because he doesn’t want to fight/kill his student, Tsunade isn’t labeled a rogue ninja because he doesn’t want to put a bounty on his student/mentor’s granddaughter’s head, he let the Hizashi situation and Uchiha Massacre happen because he didn’t want to risk subjecting his people to the horrors of war that he experienced, and he died because he couldn’t bring himself to go all out against his mentors (even if they were reanimated and emotionless versions) or student.

I’m not defending Hiruzen’s actions or lack thereof. Obviously, this is a deeply flawed way to go about life, especially as a leader of a country where you have to regularly make difficult trolly-problem decisions. But Hiruzen is meant to be a deeply flawed individual. He’s like the family of an abuser that refuses to properly step in to stop the abuse because they love the abuser and don’t want to face the idea that the abuser is a bad person. I’m not saying Hiruzen is a good person or in the right, I’m just saying he’s realistic.

If Hiruzen is “the few over the many”, then Danzo is “the many over the few” with a sprinkle of “the ends always justify the means”. Danzo is, at his core, someone who is always trying to do what’s best for the village. He turned Hanzo against the Akatsuki to keep the group from gaining too much power and becoming another threat to Konoha (keeping in mind that Amegakure is adjacent to the Land of Fire), he pushed for the Uchiha Massacre to keep a civil war from breaking out, he killed the messenger toad to keep Naruto away from Konoha and the nine tails out of Pain’s grasp. He created ROOT to make sure that Konoha had a back up fighting force that was highly trained, wouldn’t turn against the village, and were willing to do what even ninja wouldn’t. Even Danzo’s choice to essentially turn on the village by trying to kill Hiruzen was motivated by him trying to do what he thought was best for the village. After all, he knew better than anyone how bad of a Hokage Hiruzen was.

A lot of people oversimplify Danzo into “the selfish, corrupt asshole”—and while I can agree that he’s selfish and corrupt, he’s selfish and corrupt in very specific ways. The corruption is the most obvious and easiest to explain. Danzo is willing to do anything he thinks will benefit the village; that includes working with bad people and using backhanded tactics. As for his selfishness, it stems from one specific thing: Tobirama telling Hiruzen to become Hokage over him.

For a while I was confused why Danzo got a flashback flashbacked to this scene before he died. Now, I think I’ve settled on it being because the scene was at the core of Danzo’s character and greatest character flaws because it was also his greatest regret. It’s pretty clear that Danzo wants to become Hokage and it’s implied that he’s had this dream for a long while. However, Tobirama—his mentor, the former Hokage, and one of the people to define what it meant to be Hokage—chose Hiruzen over him. Because Hiruzen was willing to sacrifice himself for his comrades while Danzo, who knew he should’ve done the same, was too cowardly to offer himself up.

Then he never really grows out of that cowardice. Instead, he looks down on Hiruzen to cope with his own sense of inferiority, gives himself body modifications to become a stronger ninja more capable of defending the village, and obtains as much political power as he can. He remains a coward who prefers letting other people take the fall over fighting his own battles (setting up Hanzo to fight the Akatsuki, asking Orochimaru to kill Hiruzen, ordering Itachi to kill the Uchiha clan, etc.) right up until he uselessly “sacrifices” himself right before he was going to die anyways.

Most of Danzo’s selfish actions come down to him not being able to accept his failure at becoming Hokage while also refusing to learn from his mentor’s final lesson.

I honestly think that Naruto has some of the best representation of bad people simply because it consistently acknowledges two things about bad people: 1. People who do bad things usually do them because they grew up being taught that doing bad things were okay or necessary to survive (being abused, societal normalization, never being punished, early exposure to things like domestic violence, etc.) and 2. Even if they don’t necessarily think they’re good people, the large majority of people don’t think they’re bad or evil. Both Hiruzen and Danzo were raised by a generation haunted by war only to be thrust into two world wars themselves (one at a young age and one when they were older). This left them both traumatized and willing to do anything to avoid experiencing it again. And even if they acknowledge that they’ve made mistakes, they still don’t (seem to) see themselves as bad people, only people who are committing the lesser of two evils.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

You write adrien as aspec right? In a narrative sense what's the difference between platonic and romantic relationships, once you remove sex as a factor. I'm having lots of trouble in that aspect without sounding amatonormative.

I do and I'm aspec myself, so I'll answer as best I can noting that this is a complex topic as well as deeply personal topic for many people. As such, this is not meant to be a definitive guide. It is, at best, a primer because I'm not going to be able to cover all the nuances of human sexuality in a Tumblr post. Before we get into it, let's define amatonormativity:

The widespread assumption that everyone is better off in an exclusive, romantic, long-term coupled relationship, and that everyone is seeking such a relationship.

Amatonormativity is a problem when people force it on you or make you feel bad for not wanting an amatonormative life. It is not a problem when someone chooses to live an amatonormative life and many asexual people make that choice. I'm one of them. Let's get into why.

We'll start with some high level discussion of attraction in its various forms as that's a big part of how sexuality works. While being asexual can mean that your romantic relationships don't include sex, that's not a hard rule. Asexuality is more complicated than that. To dive into that nuance, let's quickly go over the three different "scales" or "spectrum" that are useful for understanding how romantic and sexual attraction can work for different people:

Kinsey scale: the hetero to homo scale. The various categories here tell you where someone falls in terms of how sexual organs and gender expression plays into their experience with attraction. Are you bi, pan, hetero, homo, or somewhere in-between?

Aromantic spectrum: this spectrum helps us understand how people experience (or don't experience) romantic attraction. Do you fall in love or don't you? Are there specific conditions that need to be met for you to feel romantic love? All these things play into the identities in this spectrum.

Asexual spectrum: this spectrum helps us understand how people experience (or don't experience) sexual attraction. Do you feel sexual attraction or is that not a thing for you? Are there specific conditions that need to be met for you to experience sexual attraction? All these things play into the identities in this spectrum.

Each spectrum is its own thing, but they play together in complex ways. For example, a person can experience romantic attraction that seems to have no clear tie to gender expression while only developing sexual feelings for things tied to gender expression. That would generally put them under the panromantic heterosexual banner or the panromantic homosexual banner depending on the way they identify and the type of gender expression they're drawn to.

I use the term "banner" because I don't like to refer to these things as labels. Instead, I like to think of them as descriptors or broad categories because these words aren't meant to put people in boxes. They're too expansive for that. Instead, they give us a language that we can use as a quick shorthand to get across broad ideas.

It's like how we use the word green to cover a whole host of colors. My green may not match your green, but we both have a general idea of what that word means and also we know that it's sure as heck not red. When someone gives you the words that broadly describe their identity, think of it like a person saying "green." You now have a general idea of how sexual and/or romantic attraction works for them, but you probably don't have a perfect one. This is where we circle back to your ask!

In a narrative sense what's the difference between platonic and romantic relationships, once you remove sex as a factor.

All asexuality means is that you don't experience sexual attraction. It does not mean that sex is off the table. Some asexuals are sex repulsed, some are sex neutral, and some are sex positive to the point of being incredibly kinky. You don't need to experience sexual attraction to want some action! I know some non-sex-repulsed asexuals who are fine with casual hookups and others who will only do sexual things in a romantic relationship.

I fall into the latter category and it's how I tend to write Adrien because he's clearly a romantic. That doesn't mean that he has to be okay with sex! You can be extremely romantic while also being sex repulsed, but he doesn't give me those vibes so I go more sex neutral or sex positive with him. I actually switch between writing him as asexual and demisexual depending on the story and what I want to do, but for now we'll stick to how to write him as a non-sex-repulsed asexual who experiences romantic attraction.

If your goal is to write an asexual character who experiences romantic attraction and is not sex repulsed, then the main thing you're going to want to avoid is writing in sexual attraction which is not the same as sexual arousal or ascetic attraction.

To put that in clearer terms, Adrien won't get turned on from seeing Marinette in a pretty dress or a swimsuit because that's an example of sexual attraction. However, he still can appreciate that she looks nice. It's just going to be more like he's talking about a beautiful painting instead of his hot sexy girlfriend because the idea of finding his girlfriend hot and sexy does not compute.

He may still want to have sex with her, it's just not because he's turned on by her appearance. It's because he's in love with her and wants to share that experience with her or because they're physically touching and he got turned on or even just because he's independently horny! Those last two are the sexual arousal thing I mentioned above. Sexual attraction is not required for arousal to occur or even for arousal to be tied to a person! Sexuality is more complex that that.

For example, I have never in my life looked at a person and found them hot. The fact that people can do that is wild to me especially when it's with someone they've never met. Celebrity crushes are deeply confusing to me because you don't know that person. How can you be attracted to them? Does not compute!

Even though I'm incapable of experiencing sexual attraction, I still require attraction to be interested in sexual activity. If I'm not romantically attracted to you, then I am fully sex repulsed. Once I'm into you? I'm sex neutral and even occasionally sex positive depending on the day, but I still won't find you sexy which is why I call myself ace and not demisexual though I don't particularly care which one you use for me. I've had people tell me my experience falls under both banners which I can see, ace just seems more accurate. I often just say I'm on the ace spectrum or aspec and leave it at that. I tend to do the same when tagging characters sexuality just to keep readers from having very specific expectations that may not be met.

None of that is the universal ace experience. It's just how my specific subtype works and is why I brought up the various spectrums at the start. They all play into how a person's sexuality is expressed.

Since this was mentioned in your question, I'll note that I'd be totally fine in a sexless romantic relationship. I'd probably even be fine if the romantic part was one sided so long as my partner clearly cared about me and was committed to a life together. From an outside perspective, those situations really wouldn't look that different from a relationship that includes sex because, for many couples, sex is just one of many activities they do together. When you really think about it, asking how to write a sexless couple is kind of like asking how you write a couple who doesn't like hiking. They just don't go hiking.

You can leave out sex and still have a couple kiss, cuddle, and/or hold hands if you like, but even those activities aren't required for a great romance. People adore Disney couples and most of them barely even kiss on screen. What draws people to those romances is the characters' relationship since that's really what any great romance is about. The bond that forms between the characters as they face life together, ultimately deciding to keep facing life together till death do they part. The sexual part is just an optional bonus feature thus so many fans shipping couples who canonically never show any signs of romantic or sexual attraction.

That's obviously a lot of information to deal with, but hopefully it puts you on the right path. Feel free to send additional asks on this topic if you like. I love devoted relationships and have a penchant for writing characters on the ace and/or aro spectrum, so I've played around with all sorts of ways a character can identify while still being in some flavor of committed relationship though there are characters where I just don't think they'd be into that. Really depends on the way they come across to me and that's all that I'd worry about if you're worried about amatonormativity. I'd you truly think your version of the character would be happy in the life you've given them, then you're fine and I wouldn't stress about it. They're not real. You're not forcing them into a box against their will.

I'll end with my biggest piece of advice for writing specific sexualities and/or types of attraction: don't obsess with perfectly representing a given group because, as we discussed above, these are broad categories not scientific labels. Asexual means different things to different people. Decide what it means for the character you're writing, stick to that, and you'll probably be fine so long as it doesn't totally go against the broad idea of asexuality. It's fine if your character ends up in a committed monogamous relationship as many asexuals do that just like many don't. No character can represent an entire group perfectly because no person represents an entire group perfectly. We are all wonderfully unique in our own unique ways.

[linddzz]

While yes, Viktor is confident too, but...

This man isn't shy? He's hyperventilating and nervous-tapping over the idea of giving a speech!

This man?

I guess Im not getting across like, the Vibe that I always see that bothers me? Viktor's got the social anxiety for sure, and it's VERY fair to assume that his condition makes him even more self conscious to be up in front of a crowd full of topsiders. He's pretty clear in episode 1 that he's aware of how topsiders see him and his cane use, and that's before his disability is even more visible.

But ALSO very few people ARE good on a stage in front of tons of people. And also there's a very specific connotation to "shy" that is beyond social anxiety.

Shyness to me, is its own flavor of social anxiety plus timidness. The actual definition is a bashful, timid nervousness. It has connotations of the wilting flower personality. Viktor, even when he's quiet around other people doesn't come across as nervous or timid in the slightest. His first introduction has him VERY confident and collected surrounded by enforcers and not taking Jayce being snappy and angry at him. As a kid there's more of an argument to be made because what awkward socially isolated kid isn't going to be shy. But at the same time he doesn't try to shrink away from Sky's attention, he still looks right back up at her, he just keeps on doing his own thing. Mostly he comes across as someone who does not know how to casually interact with people so he doesn't. He's got tunnels in his eyes lmao.

Viktor is complicated. Viktor is nuanced. It's why he's Ultimate Blorbo. He's withdrawn and awkward and not very good at interacting with people, but he's not timid about it. He is very self assured in himself.

But when I say fandom makes him shy it IS much more of the wilting flower timid woobie that I kept seeing in Season1 fics. There was SO MUCH of Viktor being the nervous soft spoken anxious thing who was just so happy Jayce was even giving him the time of day as if Viktor didn't sass Jayce about his notes right after he stopped the man from jumping lmaoooo

And idk not to be TOO OBVIOUS with my projecting but it's the part of Viktor I can relate to the most. I consider myself a quiet person who gets annoyed when people think that me being quiet = shy. I'm able to speak up well on zoom calls with colleagues and I also would rather drop dead than have to go up on a stage in front of a bunch of normal people who I know were expecting someone very different. I get nervous and shaky speaking up in front of a crowd of colleagues even! but afterwards I can go right up to people like "your presentation was insane tell me more right now." I am often quiet and uncomfortable in large social situations because I know that most people there are operating under a different wavelength than I am, I do not know what the right responses to things are, or I full on do not know how to not accidentally come across as a huge asshole and I don't want to be an asshole. And when I was younger I would have so many people come up and act like I was a little wallflower (bc oh boy can I also relate to being quiet while physically small meaning being constantly infantalized) who "didn't need to be so shy" and every time I was like "I'm not shy. I just don't feel any engagement with this conversation and I don't want to be a dick and tell you that, but if you gently tell me it's ok to talk one more time I'm gonna start biting."

(It got better as I got older bc I learned that if you're quiet but making active eye contact instead of staring off into other directions - not to avoid attention but because you're just thinking of other shit - people will stop labeling you as shy and instead say "intimidating" or "mysterious" which is also hilarious when what you're thinking about is "machine herald big naturals lmao" but it's better than being labeled "shy")

[pinkxpantha]

Kiss Kiss Fall in Love!?

furina x GN!reader

( 🌹 ) — PINK HYACINTH: who can kiss the other the most today? --- thank you @plebejus-argus for submitting the request!!

#: synopsis- furina plots and you follow. How are you in the "It's complicated" stage while being married?!

#: cw- you pronouns, 1.9k. words, arranged marriage, alternate universe (think manhwa nobility), kisses, You're in denial, cue that heracules song, your honor, they may be in love but they're kinda stupid. established relationship. not pr.

“[Name] this is ridiculous.” 

You sighed, “I know.” She's been complaining over this paper for the past three days. With Valentines becoming more popular each year, there's no shortage of valentines themed things.

“Seriously?! Another one!” Furina folds the magazine in her hand over, the news of so many couples scribbled all over another gossip channel.

Which also includes news articles, for whatever reason. “News is supposed to bring information to you!” Your ass. All it's bringing to you is the constant of a pouty partner.

Your wife, Furina, Isn't who you'd call the jealous type. But this..?

“Even Duchess Navia is on here! She's not even pursuing anybody!”

What other word could you use to describe this? 

Furina and you are in an arranged marriage – she certainly wouldn't be your first pick, and you'd probably be one of her last.

The pity of names bearing weight is that as soon as your mother and hers became ‘friends’, you were already packing your bags in anticipation for when she would offer your hand in marriage in your place.

That wasn't abnormal you've had your fair share of “Almost-Wed” because of your mother. But the rumors of Furina de Fontaine were.

“Rejected 200 marriage proposals.” You're pretty sure you heard that once. 

She's been called a brat, whiny, annoying. A multitude of more colorful words as well.

But even as you watched her, amused at her exorbitant reactions, you didn't see the vile labels you could just slap onto her.

“So, what are you going to do about it?” You asked, giving her a sidelong glance as she paused reading at the vanity. 

“Eh?” She echoed, turning to face you. Her hair clipped back with those blue claw clips you remember her obsessing over. You still remember that excited gleam in her eyes as she opened up the package. Seems like it hasn't lost its novelty yet.

“You have a problem with that… gossip channel, right?” You expanded, setting the book you were barely reading to the side. “So, what do you want to do about it?” You watched the gears turn in her head as she thought about your words. Bad sign. 

“Hm…” She rested her chin on her fingers, forming a ‘v’ shape. Then her eyes snapped to yours– then the book you abandoned by your nightstand. She smiled, a corner of her mouth raised higher than the other.

“Ma chérie, how do you feel about going to a tea party tomorrow?” 

“What's with the pet name..?” You sweatdropped. She ignored you.

“It's at some Baroness’ manor. It's perfect-! There'll be enough people so the place won't feel empty, yet too little to be hovered around every corner.. and she's quite the gossip too! Ahaha! I'm certainly a genius!” Furina rambled, her eyes growing wide with her presumably devious intentions.

“Just what are you plotting?” You hesitated to question. Just asking probably meant you were fated to be an accomplice.

“I'm dealing with the gossip articles [Name].” Furina said as though it was obvious. 

“You wouldn't mind helping me out a bit though.. right?” She looked at you, her eyes glittering in the basking candlelight, hues of orange sparkled in those blue depths. 

You tried not to sigh– again. “Yes... Furina, I'll help out.” You'd have to take some responsibility if she made a scene. You don't think you could experience more of a sour and gloomy Furina.

She cheered, her face painted in the warmth of her own ideas. “Thank you [Name]!” Furina chirped joyously. 

At least she wasn't pouting anymore. That's an upside.. right?

Why did you agree to this? Standing outside of the Baroness' Manor you suddenly became face to face with your grievances. 

Furina already detailed you on the “plan”. To amp up the ‘couple’ act. “Even though you were technically married, you didn't act like a couple.” She said something along those lines.

Ugh… it wasn't an expectation between the two of you to be all lovey-dovey with another in private. Honestly, you'd be miserable if you both held no love for another and still faked it. 

At least the neutrality between the two of you managed to grow into something like ‘Friendship’. 

Yet your dear friend failed to mention, this so-called tea party was an actual party.  Immediately standing outside of the manor in its grandeur you recognized the silhouette from the tens of articles about it.

To think Furina simplified it into ‘just a tea party’ is a bold lie.

“psst-! [Name]!” She called out to you in a faint whisper, her heel rested on the bottom rank of the carriage yet she made no move to exit.

The poor driver didn't understand why she wouldn't step down. You rolled your eyes at the realization.

“Furina, my dear.” You gave her your hand, to which she eagerly accepted. 

You leaned forward, in a small bow, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. You didn't look up--for fear her teasing expression would immediately ruin the immersion of the faux romance you were setting.

“[Name], you're too kind!” She stepped down, putting some of her weight onto your hand as she did so. 

You entered the doors to the mansion, pointedly ignoring the confused expression of your carriage escort who definitely heard the two of you bickering during the journey.

You don't doubt you'll see those expressions a lot today.

Furina was dressed well. A flowy and modest sundress with patterns of rainbow roses, and other flowers. You weren't much of an expert in that field– you think there might have been more types, but frankly you didn't care too much to investigate or ask. 

You were dressed to suit her, a similar pattern woven into various accessories you had on. 

You really looked like a couple. You stood to the side as Furina greeted the other guests. She was the more social of you two – and you'd probably forget everyone's name introduced to you by the end of the night.

This role you had to play– quickly became competitive… You'd place a quick kiss on her knuckles, a few minutes later she'd give you a chaste kiss on your cheeks.

This was getting out of hand– you two were being way too obvious with these fake affections. The scoreboard was at 16 to 14, with you being the latter. She took you off guard by kissing you twice-! On your cheek, then right at the connection of your jaw.

How were you supposed to respond? Who knows, you should've expected this–! But you still needed a minute in a powder room to fix the heat fixated on your cheeks. 

No. You needed revenge. You stepped back out into the lively atmosphere of the party. Most guests had migrated to the garden, save for Furina and the group of women she was talking to. 

Perfect. 

You walked up behind Furina, tucking a small piece of hair behind her ear, interrupting whatever she was saying.

You leaned in, pressing a small kiss onto the fold of her ear, covered by your hand cupping the area as though you were whispering to her. 

You pulled away from her, “My apologies for interrupting.” You said to the other women she was discussing with.

You quickly walked off into the garden, without failing to catch a glimpse of Furina's reddened face, and the teasing exclamation of the other noble.

That means the scoreboard is now… 16 to 20. Yes, you do think that kiss was worth 4 points. 

And then reality set in.

Oh my archons, what did I just do? You interrupted a random conversation between them – they could've been talking about some grimm dark subject and you just completely changed the mood..!

I'm sorry Furina. These are the consequences of a war like this.

The embarrassment of what you just did set in– for the next hour you'll avoid anybody in Furina's social circle– which is an all encompassing venn diagram. So, ultimately, you just retreated back inside after ten minutes. 

Either Furina happens to know your thought process too well,  or someone caught you slipping away, because she's walking right beside you.

It's quiet, that's abnormal. Nothing ever really feels quiet with her. But it is, and it's unsettling.

“Sorry.” You say, looking straight ahead. “For that, I mean.” 

Furina pauses, just for a second. You slow before coming to a stop. “You– you don't have to apologize.” The words tumbled out of her lips, like she hesitated putting her thoughts to words.

“Why?” You can't help but ask.

“ “Why?” who responds like that when someone says they don't have to be sorry?” She groaned, her eyes meeting yours again. 

Why did I ask that? You thought for a moment. Why you of all people. Furina stirs up enough gossip and rumors to satiate her hunger for attention just by going to a bakery occasionally. 

This entire idea was immature, and you still went along with it. Why?

“I just realized I like spending time with you.” 

Dumb plans to make dumb rumors is something you'd never do on your own. But with her…

These things feel novel– you'll reap the punishments and embarrassment of these odd stunts, but who could blame you?

With the boundary of romance already wrapped around you and tied into a union, what was the point of pretending to be something less together. 

“I didn't have much more to say, so I just asked what came to mind.” You admitted.

Furina, with her wide blue eyes and character that always left an impression on you, watched you. 

“Well, I didn't mind it– er, I mean. I asked you to play along, anyways.” She clarified, her fist raised to her mouth, shielding her mouth from your view. 

She looked nervous–? No-, genuine would be a better word. You want to see more of that. 

You chuckled,letting your eyes soften. She caught your look– so delicate–! She quickly started walking ahead of you.

“Furina? Where are you going?” 

“You said you wanted to spend time with me right? C'mon.” She said with a huff– you just shrugged as you followed her.

This feeling doesn't feel foreign. Still, you weren't going to name it.

BONUS- lipstick challenge w furina and you

“ Mmh– ‘Rina..” You groaned, your cheeks smooshed by her hands. 

“Almost done..” She said, as she tilted your head up. Pressing another kiss onto the base of your neck. This time leaving a clear mark of shimmery red– her own lipstick staining your skin.

You were leaning against the bathroom sink, with just enough visibility from the back to see your face covered in the marks she left on you in the mirror. Your arms steadied yourself on the sink, awkwardly holding the rim.

She was right in between you, her legs hatched over yours as she leaned in to kiss you again. “Mwwah!” She exaggerated the sound, much to your dismay.

“Are you done now?” You groaned, not looking at her eyes. 

Furina sighed, “But I only got to try one color..” 

You narrowed your eyes. “You shouldn't even have more than one color on you?” 

Furina only pulled her purse into her hands, quickly scooping up five more lipsticks.

“Furina.” You glared. She only laughed, it was light and airy, and unmistakably her.

“Ready for the next one?” 

By the time she's done you'll probably be unable to see your original skin color. You'll get revenge later. Totally.

[blessedbucky]

we tried the world, good god, it wasn't for us! (part 5.1)

pairing: autistic!satoru x suguru x autistic!reader

word count: 12.5k (why do i yap so much)

summary: a bunch of traumatized teenagers try their best to keep their world from collapsing.

tags: autistic!reader, autistic!satoru, bisexual!reader, bisexual!suguru, bisexual!satoru, mayhaps some poor coping mechanisms, maybe some codependency, loss of virginity, fingering, vaginal sex

beautiful people who asked to be tagged 💕: @ichikanu, @iceheartsice, @anders-is-being-a-simp-again, @honeydew-cheesecake

author note: JUST BEFORE PREMATURE DEATH ARC WHO READY! like the summary says, this is just a bunch of dumb teenagers making reckless decisions because they're also traumatized as fuck and mentally ill. there some really messy and complicated feelings reader has for Satoru and Suguru that's trying to be processed.

chapter links: 1, 2, 3, 4.1, 4.2, AO3

[YEAR THREE]

[PART ONE]

A cherry blossom slowly flutters down from a branch and lands square in the center of Suguru’s forehead. Not that he knows this because he sprawled out on the picnic blanket and was asleep not even ten minutes later. And yet, despite how much he sleeps, the place under his eyes seems to be getting darker and darker. You pluck the blossom from his forehead, careful not to touch and wake him up accidentally. You’re worried about him. Sometimes, in the dead of night when you’re alone, you’ll worry yourself sick.

Something cold and wet presses your forehead.

“Plum Fanta,” Satoru announces. After you take the bottle from him, he shuffles to plop down on the blanket next to you. “Eh? Is he seriously still asleep?”

You nod slowly. “It seems like all he’s been swallowing lately are high grade. You know those are the hardest on him.”

“Just on his stomach, though, right?”

Until last year, you naively thought that, too. Back in your village, when he swallowed them, he would nap after, but he always told you that it was to sleep off the stomachache. Maybe that was true. Now…it’s different. Everything is different. You naively thought that your lives would settle after Zen’in Toji. You knew it would never be the same, yes, but you thought it would level out.

You were wrong.

“I don’t know, Satoru. If I had to spend almost every single day swallowing something fouler than words can describe, that might take a toll on me, too.”

“Sorry,” Satoru mumbles dejectedly.

You sigh. “It’s not your fault, Satoru.”

“I feel like I could be doing more. Maybe I can volunteer to take on more assignments so there are less on his plate.”

“That’s not your responsibility, Satoru.” You take a deep breath, resisting the urge to get snippy. You shouldn’t take your bad mood out on everyone else. “You’re human, too. The truth is that you’re both stretched thin.” The grip you have around the bottle tightens. “I just…wish things would change. It shouldn’t be like this.”

Satoru tilts over until his head is knocking against yours. “How else would it be?”

“I don’t know. Not this, though.” Absentmindedly, you pick at the label of your soda. “This just isn’t a sustainable system. I wonder how many Special Grade sorcerers there have actually been, but they just couldn’t reach their full potential because old men sent them off to die.”

“Maybe you’re just not cut out for this line of work, Sketch,” Satoru poses.

The sting of that reality is lessened by his flippant tone. It was meant to be a tease. But a sting is a sting. “Everyone doesn’t need to keep reminding me of how weak I am. I get it, alright? I know I’m useless, but I’m trying to—”

“Give it a few years and you’ll literally be able to control minds. It’s never been an issue of strength with you, Sketch. It’s just that you’re…soft.” He pauses. “Gentle.” Then, he hooks his pinky around yours. Turns his head ever so slightly so his lips brush against your temple on every word. “You’re so worried about everyone else that you’re not taking care of yourself. How much sleep have you been getting?”

“I haven’t given it much thought,” you lie. You’re averaging about four hours a night, probably. “No sleep isn’t a new thing for me, though. I’ve always had trouble with sleeping.”

“Oh? Me, too.” He pokes you hard in the side making you squeak and flinch away. “Why are you on my case, then?”

Feeling petty today, you sink your claws into his sensitive spot which is to say that you dig your fingers right into the nape of his neck. “Because I’m not the one frying my brain twenty-four seven with my cursed technique,” you hiss.

Satoru hisses back at you, the two of you like a couple of feral alley cats. Neither of your drinks are open yet, so they end up rolling off somewhere on the blanket while you two start tussling. Trying to get hands on the other’s most sensitive spots. You have a height disadvantage, but you have sharp teeth, damn it. There’s an outraged squawk from Satoru when you first bite him, but it gives him permission to get dirtier with his tricks. So, the bastard rolls you both over off the blanket, pinning you under him, right on top of the grass.

“No,” you whine pathetically when he holds your cheek against it. “Satoru, bugs can get in my hair! It’s like thousands of tiny needles stabbing me!” A little dramatic. It’s more poking and itchier than anything else, but you still hate it. “If you don’t let me up, I’ll throw all your melon soda stash in a pond!”

“Oh, yeah? Well, I’ll return those oil pastels that I got you!”

“Idiot, you can’t return those! You got them last year and they’re almost used up!”

He blinks. “Oh.” In the blink of an eye, his expression is very serious and concerned. “Do you need new ones?”

And have him spend that much money on art supplies again? Absolutely not. You’ll use those things until they’re specks and then never speak of it again. But you don’t tell him this because you take advantage of the distraction. With a powerful buck of the hips, you manage to throw him off to the side, rolling over with him so you’re straddling his waist and quickly reaching for his neck. He grabs your wrists before you can, worry replaced by outrage at the presumed cheating—or so you think he sees it that way, but honestly, it’s Satoru.

“Satoru? Squid?”

Both you and Satoru freeze, turning your heads, staring wide-eyed at Suguru. His legs are crisscrossed and he’s rubbing at his eyes, scowling. His hair is almost completely out of the bun which only makes him grumpier because it’s probably sticking to his skin now. It’s actually a really warm day for spring, an omen of the summer to come, and you’re under the sun. All of you have thrown off blazers and you even took off your leggings—making the sin of the grass even more unforgiveable in your eyes, but you have a grumpy Suguru to deal with now.

Suguru, annoyed, goes on to ask, “What are you doing?” His eyes drop lower, to something behind you. There’s a look in his eyes. Angrier than simple annoyance. Then, he tells you, “Your ass is out, Squid.”

Oh. Right. Skirt.

No wonder Suguru is so mad. You’re probably embarrassing him. Face hot with shame, you try to move away, but Satoru digs his fingers into your thighs.

“Don’t let him embarrass you, Sketch! You’ve got a nice ass!”

You knock Satoru right in the stomach.

When you make it back to campus, you announce that you’re going back to your room to take a nap. Yu wanted to eat at an actual restaurant instead of konbini snacks and none of his upperclassmen can say no to him, so you’re mentally exhausted already. Suguru said the same. Shockingly, Satoru didn’t follow after you two, but he has a lot of energy today, so it sort of makes sense. Anyway, Suguru follows after you to your room.

Suguru picks up the book he’s currently reading off your desk, opting to just keep them here now. He says that there’s never enough peace in the boys’ dorm to focus on reading. As soon as his back is against the headboard and he’s settled, you crawl in next to him to put your head in his lap.

“I’m sorry for embarrassing you like that earlier,” you apologize quietly. Suguru hasn’t even opened his book yet, but it’s been on your mind since earlier. He stares down at you, puzzled. “You were angry when I was wrestling with Satoru, right? I know it’s probably a hassle—me not knowing how to act in public, even after all this time.”

“What? No. That’s not—” he takes a deep breath. Presses a thumb to the center of his forehead. “How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t care about things like that? I wasn’t mad. I just woke up and you know how I can be. I’m sorry for giving the wrong impression.”

Suguru is lying. You may not be able to read people well, but you’ve had Suguru by your side since you were six. You know his tells like the back of your hand. Doesn’t he know that? No. The bigger question is why he’s even lying to you in the first place. Is it because he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings? That might be it. You’re sensitive. You cry. You…maybe Satoru was right, after all.

“Should I quit being a sorcerer?”

He puts the book down on the mattress, a little harder than necessary. “What did Satoru say to you?”

“Why are you assuming that Satoru had anything to do with it? Are we first years again?”

Suguru says your name harshly.

You turn your head away, glaring at the wall. “We were worrying about you. I said I wished this stupid system would change and he…I know he was joking, but he asked if I was cut out for this line of work and…” You trail off, bottom lip wobbling. That, that reaction, makes you angry at yourself. Crying? And for what? “I don’t think he’s wrong.”

He repeats your name, quieter now, less aggressive. When he places a palm across your forehead, you look up at him. “Do you want to quit?”

“I…I like that I help people. It’s more than I’ve ever thought I was capable of.”

“Do you want to quit?” Suguru repeats. “Remember what we promised. Wherever you go, I’ll go.”

You close your eyes, sighing shakily. “You can’t keep letting me hold you back.”

“I’m not letting you do anything. I want you by my side.”

“I know you do, Suguru,” you whisper sadly as the tears finally fall, slipping from the corners of your eyes and leaving a trail down your temples. “You really would fall behind if it meant staying with me.” You open your eyes, meeting his gaze as you have a horrifying epiphany. “Are you sure you’re not just holding onto me because you’re afraid of change?”

“I’m not Satoru!” Suguru shouts. He squeezes his eyes shut, hands moving to clutch at the blankets. Quieter, he goes on to say, “I don’t care about strength. I don’t.”

You lean up from the mattress, scoffing bitterly. “Yes, you do. The stronger you are, the further from our shitty hometown you get. Don’t act like it’s just out of duty that you’re here. We’re here,” you correct quietly. “We want to be more than our parents told us we’d be.”

“My parents have nothing to do with this.”

Yeah, sure they don’t. Maybe Suguru isn’t even consciously aware of it, but you see it. All those little details add up. The way that no matter how furious he is, he’ll never raise his voice or hand. The way he shouted just now is the loudest that he’s ever been. Meanwhile, his father was boisterous and explosive. His appearance is as neat and clean as he keeps his room, the opposite of how his mother kept their home. He has a sense of duty that his parents never had.

“Well, mine do,” you mumble miserably. “I wanted to prove that I wasn’t the simple, stupid girl that’d never be able to take care of herself without help. And where am I now? All I did was trade my parents for you. The only difference between here and home is you don’t complain about taking care of me.”

“You’re definitely right about being stupid.” He runs a hand through his hair, more agitated than you’ve seen him in a really long time. “It’s amazing, how you see things in such a…transactional way. How can someone be so empathetic yet apathetic at the exact same time? Is it really that hard for you to believe that you’re the most important thing in my life?”

Before you’ve even had a chance to process, Suguru is up and storming out the door.

You burst out into tears after Suguru left. When you got it all out, it left you numb and physically exhausted. Your mind, though, would not settle. So, you’ve been curled up under your blankets all throughout the day. As the sun is setting, there’s a tap against your window, but you don’t move. You can sense who it is, anyway.

Since your back is to the window, you don’t see him, but you hear the thump as he kicks his shoes off and the clatter of his sunglasses against your desk. Just wanting to be held as soon as possible, you skip the questioning if you’re good to be touched stage and roll over on your other side when he slides into bed. You meet him by wrapping your arms around him and bury your face against his chest.

“Oh, man, it must’ve been super bad if you’re this cuddly,” Satoru teases, trying to bring levity to the situation. “Wanna tell me why you and Suguru are fighting and how I got roped into it because he was mad at me, too.”

Ugh. Leave it to Suguru to be like that. Either drop something so fucking profound like he did to you or throw up a wall between himself and everyone else like with Satoru. You really don’t want to talk about this more because you’ll be forced to admit that what Satoru said hit a little too close to home and potentially hurt his feelings. But you know Satoru and he won’t let it go, so it’s either let him hear it from you or Suguru.

“I asked him if I should quit being a sorcerer and it got out of control.”

“Aw, Sketch, seriously?” See? Exactly what you wanted to avoid. “I was joking.”

“I know you were, Satoru. I’m sorry that my brain is stupid and runs the wrong way with things.”

“Oi. Don’t call yourself stupid. It’s not stupid. I get it.”

You huff. “No, you don’t, Satoru. Thanks for trying, anyway.”

He laughs in such a carefree way, so completely at odds with what he says next. “What? You don’t think I feel left behind? Just because I’m the strongest physically doesn’t mean I’m strong in any other way that counts. I’m as jealous of you as much as I look up to you, y’know?”

You lean away from him abruptly, blinking in shock. “Jealous? Of me?”

“Yeah! I mean, everyone loves you, Sketch. Well, they love Suguru, too, but he doesn’t struggle with the same stuff that you and I do, so that’s why I’m more jealous of you than him in that way. You can connect with people, even if you don’t understand how they work. You’re really kind and caring. You know how to talk to people and, yeah, yeah, I know you said it’s because you just learned to study and copy people, but so have I and I still suck. You’re sad right now and all I can do is talk about myself. I don’t know how to comfort anyone. I don’t know how to reach out to Suguru after what happened. I’ve been selfish and leaving it up to you.”

Leaning up on an elbow, you push some hair away from his forehead, trying not to let your eyes linger on the little scar off to the side. “It’s not for nothing, Satoru. Some people aren’t good with talking, but you make up for it in other ways. Sometimes, being here physically is more than enough.”

Briefly, he looks away from your gaze, cheeks getting dark. “You’re doing it right now. Comforting me when it should be the other way around. Maybe Sensei is right. Maybe you do coddle us too much.” But his expression softens and that makes you feel a little better. Jeez, maybe making people happy is your comfort. “Sketch, I don’t know what to do with you. I constantly move back and forth between wanting to tell you to leave so you’re safe but wanting to keep you close by my side because I don’t know what life would be like without you in it.”

You smack your face against his sternum, not wanting him to see you cry. You’re on the verge of it. After trying to swallow down the lump in your throat, you grumble, “Why are you and Suguru dropping such heavy things so casually?”

“Eh? What did he say?”

“That I’m the most important thing in his life…”

“Oh. Yeah, okay, that’s true. You’re the most important person in my life, too.”

“What about Suguru? Shoko? The underclassmen?”

“You’d think you’d have learned how I think by now. When I say you, I mean you and Suguru. You’re like a package deal inside my brain. You’re both equally the most important people in my life.”

There must be something terribly wrong with you because hearing something like that isn’t supposed to be breaking your heart.

***

I’m sorry for hurting you.

You’re the most important thing in my life, too.

You had physically written down your apology and slipped the note under his door the next morning. It felt cold to send it as a text. You left it at that, too. It was your olive branch, and he would act on it when he was ready is what you told yourself. You didn’t want to pester him, as much as it killed you to not have any contact with him at all.

It’s been a week now, and Suguru still hasn’t talked to you.

And, yes, you respect his privacy, but…you’re leaving for the Kamo clan compound. The higher-ups decided that it’s finally time for you to work with seals. For the last two weeks, they’ve had an expert working with you on learning them. This wasn’t part of the deal, but what are you supposed to do? Tell them to fuck off? You stamp down your irritation by reminding yourself that this prevents the strengthening of cursed spirits or outright outbreaks. It means less work in the future for fellow sorcerers.

So, you head to the smoking area that you’ve been avoiding the last week. A text to your new partner, Kento, informed you that Suguru wasn’t in his room, so there’s only one other place that he’ll most likely be. And, sure enough, Suguru is there. Hunched over a little, taking long drags of his cigarette, staring out at nothing.

“Suguru?”

Blinking back to awareness, he turns his cautious gaze on you. “Hey.” It’s not exactly a cold welcome, but definitely not a warm one, either. That’s fine. You won’t take long.

“I’m leaving for my special assignment now,” you tell him as you fiddle nervously with the aglet of your sweatshirt. Suguru doesn’t immediately respond. He ducks his head down instead. What else could that be but a dismissal? But you did what you came here to do. “Okay,” you whisper. “I’m going now.”

Suguru doesn’t let you get far. He suddenly lashes out, snatching your wrist and yanking you back so suddenly that you almost trip over your feet. You stumble back, spinning around to try and get your bearings, and catch yourself on his shoulders. Your face is very close to his and his amethyst eyes are…the best you can come up with is that they’re sad.

Instinctively, you stroke a thumb over the dark circles under his eyes. “What’s wrong, Suguru?”

“Squid,” he starts quietly and cups your cheek. “If I was selfish and asked you to stay a sorcerer, stay with me on this path, would you?”

You sigh. “Forget what I said. I was being stupid—”

“Stop,” he interrupts. “It’s not…don’t say that about yourself. I know this is hard on you. I worry about you as much as you do about me. Not because you’re weak, but because you have a gentle heart.” It’s intense, the way he’s looking at you, and you have to dart your eyes away. “But I need to do this, and the only thing that’s keeping me sane is you. This is a lot to drop on you, I know, but it’s how I feel. So…will you stay?”

“I’ll stay,” you mumble while reaching out to touch his face, too. “It’s not selfish. I understand. This is something we both need to do. I just haven’t found my place in the world yet, but I will.” You smile softly as a reassurance. “I think things will be easier when we graduate.”

“Yes,” Suguru agrees. “When we graduate.”

***

“Leave it to you to cry during a horror movie.” Satoru is laughing as he keeps stroking your cheeks with his thumbs, trying to catch all your stray tears.

Through your sniffling, you tearfully defend yourself, “I didn’t expect the mother to sacrifice herself like that! And then…then, her spirit was stuck in that building!” He’s still laughing, the asshole. “Stop it! You’re being mean! I can’t help what does and doesn’t make me cry!”

“No more Sketch. Only Crybaby.”

You give him a wobbly scowl before you lean forward to smack your forehead against his sternum. His laughter dies down to snickers, and he shoves you away by your forehead. When you’re looking him in the eye, you pout and demand, “I’m sad. Let me have your last Pocky.”

“What? No way! It’s choco banana and I don’t have any boxes left around here!”

That has you pouting more. “Just buy more.”

“I don’t wanna go all the way to the konbini!”

“You can literally teleport now, Satoru.”

“I’m not that exact with my locations yet!”

“This is not how you treat a lady. I’m in emotional distress.”

“No, you’re manipulating me now.”

Oh, to hell with this. You throw yourself to the side to snatch the box with one single Pocky stick left inside. Satoru dives after you with a cry of outrage, his fingers closing around yours at the exact moment that you get a hand around the box. You try to yank yourself out of his grasp, but he won’t let go. You manage to roll over without losing your hold on the box and try to shove your knee up in his stomach as a dirty trick.

“Yeah, you’re so upset!” Satoru snaps while trying to squirm away from your knee as much as he can. “You’re a dirty liar—” he dodges a knee to the groin with a yelp. “A cheater, too! What happened to my innocent Sketch?”

“You emotionally devastated her with a sad horror movie! This is the price you pay!” He’s right, though. You’re not as sad anymore because you’re grinning. Giggling as you two roll around on his bed, trying to get control over the box. It must be an infectious thing since Satoru’s pouting slowly makes way for his own smile.

Things get a little too rough, though. Both of you skirt too close to the edge of the mattress and you go rolling off. Satoru isn’t winning any awards for gentleman of the year since you’re the one that ends up slamming against the floor. His sunglasses are askew, his hair is a mess, but he’s straddling you while proudly shaking the box. Little does he know that it’s crushed to the point where the plastic package is poking out and you can catch a glimpse of yellow.

You lash out, stealing the package from the box and quickly ripping out the Pocky stick. Satoru squawks, scrambling too late to yank it away, and then stares down at you in disbelief after you shove the end coated in candy in your mouth, smirking smugly around it.

“Cheater!” Satoru accuses again.

Your only answer is to tilt your chin in challenge. This is Gojo Satoru, of course, and he can’t not take that bait. The stick nearly slips from your mouth that goes slack when he hunches over to snatch the other end of the stick between his own teeth. He gives a savage grin.

Someone clears their throat.

Both of you turn your heads, but there’s enough of a delay that the Pocky stick finally snaps, and you end up with most of the good part. Satoru leans back on his haunches, crossing his arms over his chest while munching grumpily. “Nanamin,” he whines loudly and more annoyingly than usual. “I lost the last Pocky because of you!”

Kento is looking as stiff and uncomfortable as he did in his first year, something that you thought he was past with you, at the very least. “Pardon my interruption,” he says directly to you. “Sensei is asking for you, Senpai.”

“Ugh,” you and Satoru groan in unison.

“Did you turn the report in after our assignment at the Kamo clan?”

You open your mouth to confirm because, yes, you did…but maybe you didn’t? Shit. That’s right. You were trying to figure out how to word it without implicating your weird attachment to cursed energy. So, you snap your mouth shut, teeth clacking. Kento frowns in disappointment. “Senpai, that’s very unlike you. Are you sure you’re not being negatively influenced by Gojo?”

“Rude!” Satoru huffs. “Sketch was probably so eager to get back to Suguru that she forgot. They got over their little lover’s quarrel right before you guys left.”

“A quarrel that you caused,” you mutter under your breath. Then, your brain processes, and you sputter. “Damn it, Satoru, it wasn’t a lover’s quarrel! Don’t give Kento the wrong impression!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Finally, Satoru rolls away from you, dropping on his ass so you can freely move. “Get going. It’s about time you get a lecture from the old man.”

Kento watches you and Satoru with a weird expression on his face before he walks away.

***

The second that the bulge has slipped down his throat, you’re holding out a stick of cinnamon gum to Suguru. He takes it, trying to smile in thanks, but it comes out as a grimace. You don’t ask him if he’s okay because you know the answer already. The only thing that hasn’t changed is your immediate wishing that you could take some of this blowback for him. Wishing that he didn’t have to taste them the way he does.

When it’s you two on the case, you don’t need to use a veil. That cursed spirit wasn’t going anywhere. Besides, it was using an old department store as a hideout, and the only people who snuck inside the building were fellow teenagers on dares. You see their names in graffiti as you two head toward the staircase.

“Is sneaking into haunted houses romantic?”

Couples were the curse’s preferred prey. For a higher graded curse, it becomes a better hunter, becomes pickier. You can understand the appeal that a spirit might have in couples. It’s double the fear to feed on—a human’s fear for their own life and for their lover’s. What you don’t understand is why a couple would put themselves in that situation in the first place.

Suguru chuckles. “Not particularly, but romance is subjective, I suppose.”

Still skeptic, you lowly agree, “I suppose…”

Your tone isn’t lost on him. “I know you don’t have much experience in the way of it, but you have to know that much. Why do you sound so suspicious?” With his longer legs, he’s automatically in front of you. So, he stops at the top of the staircase, forcing you to do the same. “Were you being romantic when you did whatever it was to make Nanami ask me if you and Satoru are dating?”

You hum. “I didn’t think Kento was one to make assumptions like that.” Also, why did he go to Suguru to ask that? Weird. “It wasn’t anything like that, jeez. We were fighting over the last Pocky stick.” You pause then admit, “Well, I guess it could’ve looked like a compromising position. He was on top of me and was trying to take the Pocky with his mouth. I think it might’ve been like a weird game of chicken.”

He snorts. “Or it was Satoru trying to get you to kiss him.”

And then it…slips out. “I doubt he’s interested in doing it again.”

In the silence of the building, you can hear Suguru stop breathing. Just for a moment. There’s no emotion on his face when he quietly asks, “Do what again?”

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. There was a reason why you didn’t want to talk about this with Suguru. You didn’t want to make things weird between the three of you. Suguru’s kneejerk reaction is to be protective. Who knows what he’ll do to protect your virtue or whatever. You can’t imagine how he’ll react when he hears that Satoru hasn’t brought it up because Suguru knows you well enough to figure out that it makes you…upset or…confused or…you don’t know.

Stomach tying itself in knots, you try to figure out the best way to put this. “It…it’s not a big deal! He, um, maybe sort of kissed me—” Suguru’s face twists. You start scrambling. “It was that day when we agreed he was high! So, yeah, he probably doesn’t even remember! That’s why I’ve never brought it up to anyone! I don’t want to make things awkward! None of us want to deal with me acting like…like a needy girlfriend or something! Not like we’re boyfriend and girlfriend or anything!”

Then, Suguru asks a question that hits you like a punch to the gut. “And…how do you feel about Satoru?”

How do you answer that? Seriously? How do you answer that? The idea of trying to compress your enormous feelings for them into a neat package is…overwhelming. It makes you want to cry. Or it might be this confrontation that’s making you panic. You have been actively avoiding this conversation. There’s a place in your neatly organized mind that’s wild and unmarked. It’s too daunting, always making you turn back in defeat before you even start to think about it.

“The same way I feel about you,” is your answer. Simultaneously enough of an answer and not. They are equal in your heart and mind, but what they are is unidentifiable.

Suguru doesn’t believe you and tries to call you out on it, “So, what? You’d let me kiss you?”

“Yes,” you blurt automatically. You’re afraid to back down. If you do, you’ll be forced to think about this more. You want this awful conversation to be over already.

Suguru, eyes narrowed, takes a step toward you. “Really?”

There’s a lump in your throat that you try to swallow down, but you stand your ground. “Really.”

Another step. “Right now?”

“Right now,” you confirm breathlessly because he’s so close to you now that a deep breath would brush your chest against his.

Another game of chicken, you can’t help but think as he cups your cheek. Those eyes that stare down at you are challenging you, but there’s also more. Something wild. Desperate. You wonder how he can be so calm, but when he hunches over, and his face inches towards yours, you can feel his quick, shallow breaths against your skin. You briefly clutch at the front of his blazer before splaying out a hand, desperate to feel the rapid thump of his heartbeat under your fingers. His other hand reaches down to wrap around your wrist—maybe for the same reason.

Dazedly, moronically, you point out, “There’s…you have gum…”

His throat bobs. You think it’s nerves, but then he sticks out his tongue to show the gum is now gone. Right. Okay. Okay, okay, okay. He’s serious about this. You’re serious about this, you suddenly realize. Because he touches your cheek, and you lean into it. Your eyes have never left his mouth.

And it’s you that closes the distance.

It’s so similar and it’s also not. You know to tilt your head to the side a little when your noses bump, and then they’re slotting together like what happened with Satoru. Heat rushes throughout your body again, too. But Suguru’s hand feels so much bigger and skitters down to the side of your neck, taking up so much space that a finger is behind your ear. Cinnamon explodes across your taste buds when his tongue slips past your lips.

Someone’s ringtone echoes.

The two of you tear yourselves apart. Suguru looks beyond irritated, leaving you self-conscious, but he’s pissed at his phone because that is what he glowers down at when he pulls it out of his pocket. He actually snaps when he answers his cellphone with a harsh, rude, “What?” Blood is rushing in your ears, and you press your hands against your scalding hot cheeks. You can’t hear what’s being said on the other end. “Yes, it’s been taken care of. We apologize. We thought there was another spirit,” he lies in a clipped tone. He presses his thumb to the center of his forehead. “Okay. We’ll be there shortly.”

Oh. That must’ve been the manager. You forgot that you texted her that you were done. Has it really been long enough for the manager to get worried? You don’t even want to check. You know you’ll get all flustered, thinking about how you spent all that time kissing Suguru.

Holy shit, you kissed Suguru.

Holy shit, you kissed Satoru.

Holy shit, you kissed them both.

***

“Holy shit, you kissed them both.”

“Gojo, of all people,” Utahime adds with no small amount of disgust.

You knock your head against the table, sighing heavily. If you tried to brain yourself right now, would they stop you? “Very helpful commentary, Senpai.”

“I just thought you had better taste, is all,” she mumbles in response.

Shoko laughs—relishing in your misery, most likely. “You told us, so now what? Are you wanting advice? Need help picking between them? Because I’ll also say you shouldn’t choose either of them.” You straighten up, sighing again, putting a thumb to the center of your forehead. “Hey, who did it first? You or Geto?”

You blink. “Huh?”

“The forehead thing.” She demonstrates by pressing a thumb to her forehead and pulling an exaggerated angry face. “Are you just now realizing that you do it, too?”

“Oh.” You stare down at your hand, genuinely shocked. You’ve never been consciously aware of it, but, yeah, you do actually dothe same thing as him. When did it even start? Which one of you started it? Was it you or was it him? “Um…no. It’s…I think it’s been this way since we were kids.”

Utahime’s nose is scrunched in distaste when she asks, “So, are you in love with them?”

“How would I even know?”

“How would you not?”

Shoko clucks her tongue, visibly irritated with Utahime. “Don’t make her feel bad. It’s not like you’ve ever been in love.” To have Shoko take that tone with Utahime is a shock. Your eyes dart to Utahime whose jaw is clenched and grip tightened around the coffee cup. This…tension between them…that’s new, right? You’re not imagining it, are you? But then Shoko turns back to you, gaze softening, as if nothing just happened. “Do you feel differently about them than anyone else?”

“I…” You know the answer. Deep down, you know it’s different with them. So…why can’t you admit that? There’s something that’s blocking you from accepting the truth, that has you skirting away from that place in your heart. For some reason, it seems unfair. You don’t know to who or why. Maybe you’re mistaking unfairness for wrongness. Shoko said it was okay to love more than one person, but there’s still that mental block in your head. You’ve been conditioned to love only one.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself if you keep thinking that hard. Calm down. You don’t need all the answers now,” Shoko tries to assure you. “There doesn’t even have to be an answer, either. This doesn’t have to mean anything at all. Just because they were your first, you don’t have to make these important. I didn’t.”

“Oh. You kissed someone?” That’s new. Definitely new. The last time you checked, when the school year first started and you two were catching up, she said that nothing happened in the way of her love life. She’s never admitted to it outright, but she’s been crazy pining for Utahime.

“Yeah.”

“How come you didn’t tell me?” It’s been busy, you haven’t seen each other much, but you’re a little hurt that neither she nor Utahime told you. Because it had to be Utahime, right? Then again, why is Shoko being so callous when discussing the kiss? She cares a lot for Utahime.

“Because, like I said, it doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

Utahime’s head is ducked down, but you can see her profile. If she glares any harder at that cup, it might shatter. Shoko, putting her elbow on the table and settling her chin in the palm of her hand, is feigning indifference. But there’s an air about her that tells you she’s anything but apathetic right now. Also, she’s now watching Utahime carefully.

The tension has you cringing. This is a delicate subject for everyone, so you’ll be the one to put a stop to it. “Maybe we shouldn’t keep talking about this—”

“Aren’t you gonna ask me who it was, Duck?”

“Why don’t we wait until we’re back on campus—”

“Mei was my first.”

It all comes crashing down. Literally. Because everything on the table clatters and tumbles over when Utahime lashes out to snatch Shoko’s wrist, her knee bumping against the underside as she moves. Her eyes are wide with panic. “Your first kiss, right?” Shoko’s mouth thins. “Right?” Still no response from Shoko. She’s resolute in her silence. Utahime’s anxiety is so palpable that your rises along with hers with every passing second that her question goes unanswered. “Right?”

Shoko snaps and yanks her wrist back from Utahime. “What does it matter to you?”

“It matters if you did this just to get back at me because I didn’t do what you wanted when you were drunk!” Um. You…feel like this has suddenly become a private conversation that you should not be hearing. You sink down in your seat a little. “Were you drunk when you went to her, too?”

“I’m not a slut, Utahime.”

“I wasn’t implying—”

“Not everything is about you!” Shoko shouts, the loudest you’ve ever heard her be. It startles you and Utahime. And Utahime drops down in her seat, shrinking as Shoko slams her hands against the table and rises to her feet. “You rejected me! You made it clear you don’t think about me the same way! Why do you care about what I do with who? And you’re so self-centered that you think I did it to get back at you! Give me a break!” Shoko storms away, grabbing your wrist and tugging you along as she snarls, “Let’s go, Duck.”

For the entire trek back to campus, Shoko hasn’t spoken. Neither have you. You’re not sure how to talk about it. So, you’ve watched her work through two cigarettes. You’ve also seen her blink back tears or scrub at her eyes with a sleeve. It’s when you’re on the way up the stone path that you finally decide to speak.

“Do you want to stay with me tonight?”

Shoko barks out a laugh. “And fight with one of them? No thanks.”

Heat crawls up the back of your neck. You should’ve known better than to think Shoko wouldn’t figure it out. “They don’t spend the night with me when they’re both on campus. They sleep with each other instead. Suguru has an extra futon in his room.”

“Yeah. I can’t imagine both of those giants fitting on a bed together.”

You fiddle with some lint in the pocket of your hoodie. Do you want to talk about it is on the tip of your tongue, but you bite it back. Instead, you press her with, “So…sleepover?”

“Sure.”

“No alcohol, though.”

“Such a dutiful citizen.”

“Because I don’t have a technique to heal the suffering that I put my body through. Just because you can do these things doesn’t mean you should.”

“You can look away from the corpses. I can’t. Sorry that I wanna have some fun to forget about the fact that, one day, it’ll be one of you on my table next.” She curses, drops her cigarette to the ground, and smashes it with her shoe. “Sorry. I’m sorry.” She rubs her forehead. “That went too far.”

It’s true, though, isn’t it? You’ve never thought about it, but with her technique…she could heal any ailment. She can’t reverse aging, but everything else is free game. She doesn’t throw herself into danger like the rest of you. She can live a long life. Time is a luxury for most sorcerers. It’s a dauting reality to face so young. Still, when you die, that’s it. One day, Shoko will be left behind.

How lonely must that be?

“You could be a normal doctor,” you whisper as you take one of her hands in yours. “You can walk away from this life after we graduate. You can save people instead.”

“I appreciate the concern, Mama Duck, but it’s okay. If I wasn’t around, you’d be dead already from a brain bleed. I want to keep all you idiots alive as long as possible.” She squeezes your hand back, grip unbearably tight. “I think I’ll actually take you up on that sleepover invitation. I wanna be the little spoon.”

“Ugh, fine.”

***

In the seiza position on a cushion that’s probably worth more than your childhood home, you and Kento wait to meet with your escort today. The room you’re in is beautiful, decorated with a mural of a pond with elaborately detailed dragonflies. You itch for your sketchbook. You never had the chance to see this the last time you were here. The party was held somewhere else.

“It’s still so hard to reconcile the fact that he came from such a serious and distinguished clan.”

You bite back a smile. “Kento,” you try to scold.

Kento simply shrugs in response. For someone that lectures Satoru so much about the blunt way he speaks to people, Kento can be pretty ruthless in his own assessments. He’s of the mindset that sugarcoating words is unproductive, especially when it’s in regard to jujutsu. It can get people killed, in his opinion. You agree wholeheartedly which might be why you get along so well with him.

The sound of footsteps approaching has you straightening up. Three people enter the room, all with matching white hair and blue eyes. Duller than Satoru’s sparkling eyes, you notice. At the front of them is the current head of the clan. Satoru’s…great-uncle, you think he told you and Suguru? What was his name again? Did Satoru even tell you? Satoru spent more time gossiping than actually introducing.

His great-uncle was the strongest in the clan until Satoru came into the picture. He’s more obsessed with strength than even the Zen’in clan—which is a lot, Satoru said. Before Satoru’s birth, his great-uncle went behind his wife’s back, knocking up mistress after mistress, desperate to produce a child with the Six Eyes. So, when his brother’s bloodline was the blessed one, he grew more and more bitter.

Same thing happened with the Zen’in recently, actually, Satoru had mentioned that night of his birthday party. Or so the rumor mill says, anyway. Someone got knocked off the throne when they had some non-sorcerer kids. Our clans hate each other, but we suffered the same fate. Well, it was a blessing in disguise for my clan because they get me, but my great-uncle probably wouldn’t agree.

Satoru’s great-uncle might remember you because he coldly says, “You came all the way here for nothing. I did not authorize this. We don’t need some girl poking around in our personal collection as an experiment. I tried to call Gakuganji, but he didn’t answer. Tell him that the next time he makes decisions on our behalf, there will be consequences.”

“Big talk from someone that’s running on borrowed time!”

Everyone else in the room—Kento included—sighs in aggravation at the sound of Satoru’s voice. You, however, perk up when you watch him stroll into the room. He sprawls out next to you rather than his fellow clansmen, casual as can be. It’s infectious, because you find that the tension in your body is slowly bleeding away.

“Satoru,” his great-uncle starts through gritted teeth, “did you know about this?”

“Yeah,” Satoru answers boredly. “You geezers keep yapping about how I need to be more involved in clan business if I’m gonna be the head soon. So, I handled it for you.” A vein throbs on his great-uncle’s temple. Satoru zeroes in on it. “What’s got you so cranky, old man? My gramps says it’s been years since anyone’s been in our stash, so who knows what shape all those seals are in?”

Ah. His great-uncle has been posturing. You don’t know how the hell Satoru has been able to handle all these complicated rules and customs and interpersonal relationships. And you thought it’d been bad with the Kamo. You’ve heard of the Gojo ego, but the Zen’in are supposedly worse. You’re not sure you have the mental fortitude to deal with all this.

“You should remember your place,” his great-uncle hisses. “You’re not of age yet. You have no authority—”

“Nah, old timer, you need to remember yours.” Satoru rudely points a finger, clearly mocking the man. “What are you gonna do, huh? Fight me? We know who’ll win that. You’re just keeping the seat warm for me.”

Right. This is getting out of hand. “Satoru,” you speak up. “You’re being very rude right now.”

Satoru turns his head to pout at you. “Aw, c’mon, are you seriously taking his side?”

“You’re being rude,” you repeat because, no, you’re not taking his great-uncle’s side. This is just getting uncomfortable. All you want is for this to be over with as soon as possible.

Satoru groans loudly, like the drama queen that he is. “Fine. You’re lucky that I like you so much.” To his great-uncle, he declares, “I’ll escort them around the place. If anything goes wrong, the strongest sorcerer will be there. It won’t, though. My Sketch knows what she’s doing.”

My Sketch.

Did he have to say it like that? And in front of his family, no less?

The Gojo keep their collection deep inside the estate, in the basement. When you visited the Kamo clan, it took a lot to convince Kento to leave you alone. In the end, you succeeded when you told him that you can’t mask his presence so it would only agitate the few fly heads locked inside a cage. You assured him that if something went wrong, he’d sense a surge in cursed energy, and that you’d be okay because, as previously stated, you can hide yourself.

Kento stays at the top of the staircase that leads down to the basement. Satoru is suspiciously agreeable to staying behind and hands the key over without a word of complaint. Even Kento is skeptical, eyeing Satoru with the same wariness that you know is on your face.

You should’ve known he was only biding his time.

You’re distracted when he slips inside the room with you. The caged fly heads are off to the side of the room. You don’t need them. Never have. Their agitation is a warning sign that somethingis leaking inside here, though. Actually, it might be more than one something with how much cursed energy is festering in here. None of the seals are quite at their breaking points yet, but it’s enough that someone should worry.

Frowning to yourself, you mutter, “Does no one check in here?”

“No, not really.”

Something…very weird happens.

This ability of yours, you’re still testing out. You never thought of it as something to be aimed until Satoru forces your attention on him. There’s no other explanation for why you didn’t notice his overwhelming cursed energy before. And when you do, you get smacked in the face by nervousness. But it’s not…yours. Oh, this is weird. Because, somehow, you intrinsically know that this doesn’t belong to the fly heads, either. It’s diluted, not as potent as if it were your own, but it’s…cleaner than if it came from a cursed spirit.

“Why are you nervous?”

Satoru’s mouth parts and the smirk falls from his face. Suddenly, he yanks his sunglasses off, staring at you so intensely that you know he’s using the Six Eyes on you. His eyes widen before he rushes forward to take you by the shoulders. “Stop before you give yourself another brain bleed, idiot!”

Oh. Yes. Closing your eyes, you become increasingly aware of your body. Not only is your head throbbing, but blood is dripping from your nose. Definitely not as bad as that day on campus when you broke that old man’s hip, but still bad. Satoru’s hands on your shoulders are quickly becoming the only thing keeping you upright. He steadies you when you wobble dangerously.

“Hey,” he mumbles after a few silent moments of you catching your breath. You blink owlishly. “Are you resonating with cursed energy now?”

You wipe blood away from your nose with the hem of your sleeve. “If by resonating, you mean I can feel it then, yes, I can.”

“Thought it was weird when I watched you put the fly heads down,” he remarks while tapping his chin in thought. “Also, makes sense why you were all shifty when you told us about Ryomen Sukuna’s finger, too.” As with all new things, he’s immediately intensely interested, so he hunches over to lean his face in close to yours. “What does it feel like?”

“Sure, ask the person new to this.” You roll your eyes before taking a step back. Your heart is already about to burst from his scare. You don’t need your brain overthinking the closeness by wanting to kiss you again. Ugh, great, now you’re thinking about that. “It’s…emotions. I don’t know if that’s what it actually is or if that’s what my brain is translating it to, but that’s the only way I can describe it.”

“How does it feel?”

“What? For the seals about to break?” He nods. You shrug. “Depends, but mostly…giddy. No, that’s too positive. These are cursed objects. It’s that kind of excited that you get when…when someone that you don’t like gets what’s coming to them. Some of them are angry, like they’re pissed that they’re sealed and are waiting to make everyone’s life hell.” You turn to look at one of said objects. “Most of the ones in here are angry, by the way.”

“Eh. Everyone’s a hater.”

“Satoru,” you start with a deepening frown. “I’m going to strengthen these seals, but you really need to talk with your clan about checking on these more often. There’s no excuse for the shape these are in. I know most of your relatives have Infinity, but not all of them, right? And what about the little kids that I saw running around earlier? Seriously. This isn’t safe.”

Satoru picks up on your seriousness and, for once, doesn’t try to brush it off. “I didn’t know they were this bad,” he mumbles.

“I know. You do have an excuse because you’re in Tokyo.” You scrub a hand across your face. “Forget it. I already got a lecture from Principal Gakuganji about keeping my opinions to myself. Apparently, the Kamo clan was offended when I left. They said that I, and I quote, shouldn’t meddle in the affairs of clans.”

“Well, as I’ve already established today, I am the Gojo clan. I’ll bully the geezers until they assign someone to check in on this place more often.”

You shake your head. “You’re so lucky that you have the bite to back up your bark. If not, your clan would overthrow you in a heartbeat because of your shitty attitude.”

“That’s so mean!” Satoru whines.

“It’s what they call tough love. You need to take things more seriously—”

“I did!”

“Partially, but you’re still down here, distracting me from doing what I came here to do.” You cross your arms over your chest, shooting him an unamused look. “Unless you have something serious to talk to me about, will you leave me alone so I can work on these seals? I don’t need a babysitter. Is that why you were so nervous?”

Satoru’s face scrunches up briefly before he smooths it out by forcing a smile. “Heh. Yeah. Sorry. I’ll…just…” He points over his shoulder toward the door. Your brows furrow, confused by his behavior, but you’ll have to ask him later when you’re done with this. He turns, takes a few steps toward the door, but then stops.

“Satoru?”

Satoru takes a deep breath before he whirls around and stomps back over to stand right in front of you again. “Why’d you tell Suguru that I didn’t remember it?”

Okay, you’re just genuinely baffled now. “Uh…what?”

“I remember the kiss.”

Wait. Why does he look so betrayed? Is he seriously about to pin this on you? No. Absolutely not. Offended that he’s offended, you hiss, “You never said anything to me! What was I supposed to think?”

“I didn’t say anything because you didn’t say anything! You’re supposed to be the one that’s smart about emotions and stuff!”

“Huh? I’m sorry, but do you know who you’re talking to? Suguru is the smart one when it comes to that, idiot! Besides, when was I supposed to bring it up? As soon as you came back from the dead didn’t seem like the best time! And I hardly ever see you anymore! And…and how do I even bring that up?”

Satoru scowls. “I don’t know! We don’t even have to talk at all!”

“Then, why are you so upset?”

“No! I mean—” he groans loudly, frustrated by his inability to express himself. “I liked the kiss! I want to do it again!”

The confession comes at you like a sucker punch. You don’t expect it, and it leaves you wide-eyed and breathless. Your body is still burning up, yes, but it’s not because you’re pissed anymore. No, this asshole has you all flustered now, to the point that your mouth opens and closes because you can’t figure out what to say.

Weirdly, what ends up coming out of your mouth is a sheepish, “I liked it, too.”

It’s amazing, how much Satoru perks up. You can almost imagine the dog ears raised high and tail wagging excitedly. His cheeks are flushed, but he grins. “So…can we? Again?”

“Um. Sure. But—”

Satoru doesn’t wait to hear whatever it is you have to say. As soon as you give him permission, he’s reaching out for your face, and hunching over to smash his lips against yours. In his eagerness, your teeth catch his lip the wrong way, and his blood smears across your bottom lip. You can’t help but laugh, a little delighted that he’s so excited to kiss you again. The thought of finishing up in here with the seals floats away when he starts kissing you right.

Just a few kisses, you swear to yourself.

It ends up taking thirty minutes to pull away from him.

***

July is sweltering.

“I’m melting,” you announce to the room morosely. Suguru, a fellow starfish that’s sprawled out on the floor in front of the box fan, grunts in acknowledgement. You fling your hand over, lightly smacking it against his chest. “Get my pencil. It’s on the bed,” you demand.

Suguru snorts. “Excuse me? Where’s my Squid with her good manners?”

“The manner part of Squid’s brain fried from the heat. You get needy Squid now. And Squid wants to draw but needs her pencil to do that. I’ll draw whatever you want. No commission fee, either.”

“How benevolent,” he drawls sarcastically. “You have hands. Get it yourself.”

“Please?”

“Seriously? It’s right there. You’re closer to the bed.”

“But I’m melting.”

“Squid.”

“I’m a squid puddle.”

Suguru is laughing quietly, a beautiful sound that seems so rare these days. “I spoil you too much.” And yet, he rolls over on his hands and knees, so seems like you’re the real winner here. “Too hot to move but not too hot to draw,” he continues to playfully complain.

Suguru clambers over, hovering above you. His knees bracket yours in, he has one arm next to your head and uses the other to fumble around on the mattress for your pencil. You smile apologetically when he scowls at you, coming up empty. Even with his long arms, the pencil must be further away than he can reach like this, and he’s disgruntled about it. You can’t blame him. It is pretty hot. So, Suguru gets on his knees totally, sitting back on his haunches.

The thing is…the thing is…that when he moves around, he sets one knee between your thighs. Oh, this is familiar, you think to yourself with no small amount of panic. Before you can move, though, his knee is already moving higher to press right against your core.

It’s an instinctive thing, pushing back against his knee, chasing that feeling. Just as you lowly whimper, your brain catches up to what you’re doing, and you cover your mouth but it’s too late. That sound is already lost to the ether. Above you, Suguru freezes, eyes slowly widening, arm hovering there in the air.

Ignore it, ignore it, ignore it, your brain screams in some desperate hope that he’s become telekinetic and can pick it up. You are, of course, not lucky like that. And, slowly, Suguru drops the task of getting your pencil completely and moves down to hover over you on his hands and knees. You can’t quite hold back the flinch when his hands drop on either side of your head, keeping you pinned there with no way to escape without resorting to violence.

You might have to resort to violence.

“Squid,” he sings in that sickly sweet tone that he always uses before he teases you. Is he really going to make this worse? Shoko was so wrong. Suguru doesn’t have a crush on you and now he’s probably disgusted by your reaction. If not disgust then he’s, at the very least, feeling awkward. “What was that?”

You resist the urge to cover your face. That’d make you look guilty. You can get away with no eye contact, though. After all, that’s not out of the ordinary for you. “Nothing!” Oh, yes, that was so smooth. You’re a moron.

He raises a brow. “Really? It didn’t sound like nothing to me.”

“I…um…my back hurts from being on the floor for so long!” Yes, yes, that sounds like a reasonable excuse. You can run with this. “Here. I will get the pencil. Then, I’ll get the futon! Because y’know, my back is killing me, but I still want to stay low to the ground with the fan and where all the cold air is,” you rant nervously.

Shockingly, Suguru allows you to squirm out from underneath him. You might not completely be out of the clear yet, though, since he’s watching you so intently that you even feel his gaze on your back when it’s turned to him. You do what you said you would—grabbing the pencil and dropping it on the floor by your sketchbook before you go to his closet to grab the futon sitting on the top shelf.

As soon as you settle down on the futon, you sprawl out on your stomach, and nervously start to scribble in your sketchbook. Just little doodles and random patterns. Anything to make you look busy. You’re desperately hoping that the shift back to something normal will make him forget what just happened.

You know better than that, though.

Geto Suguru is like a dog with a bone when he wants something.

It doesn’t matter that you’re on your stomach now. Suguru crawls on the futon and moves back over you once again. There’s no point of contact, technically, other than his hands that grasp your wrists to stop you from sketching.

“Suguru,” you complain with a huff. “Get off me.”

“Not until you tell me the truth,” he declares.

You turn your head to the side, glaring at him with one eye. “I did. Now, can you stop being weird?”

Then, Suguru is shooting you one of those…stupidly handsome and infuriating cocky smirks. “Oh, so I’m the one that’s being weird? That’s rich coming from the person that tried humping my leg.”

Jerking your head back around so he can’t see your face, you give an outraged shout of, “I was not doing that!”

“You weren’t, huh? So, you wouldn’t mind if I…”

It gets suspiciously quiet, then. You’re on edge, waiting for an opening that doesn’t come. What does happen is that Suguru shifts around and, horrifyingly, his knee starts to slide up between your parted thighs. You try to snap them shut too late and it just ends up sending his knee bumping against your pussy yet again. You’re prepared for it in that you can bite your lip to hold back any noises, but not so much for the way he’s actively rocking it against you now.

“Suguru, stop!”

When his response comes, it’s right by your ear, and you’re seriously shivering now. “Not until you tell me the truth.”

“You know what it really is! Why do you need me to say it?!”

He’s grinning, you just know it. “I don’t want to presume…”

“It’s turning me on, okay? Are you happy now? You’re such an asshole! Why are you teasing me about something that my body does? This is a completely normal reaction! What if I started rubbing up against your dick, huh?”

“Who said anything about teasing, hmm?” Suguru’s mouth brushes against the shell of your ear. “And you don’t even have to do that much to make it hard. It is right now. Just from hearing you moan like that.”

…eh?

“Do you want to feel, Squid?”

The gears in your brain spun so hard that they blew up. They’re melting away. Nothing is left in your skull. That must be why you nod. It’s a simple thing, when he presses his weight down and that hard thing touches your ass, but the breath rushes out of you regardless. You fist the fabric of the futon, warming up, waiting for him to do something more. He doesn’t. You’re not sure what you expected since he just asked if you wanted to feel, not if you wanted him to start humping you.

“See? Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

It’s out of you without a thought. “What are we doing right now?”

Suguru doesn’t say anything immediately. He lifts away enough to grab your hip, squeeze, and then nudge as a silent order to roll over. You think about not doing, about running away, but…he…he’s turned on, too. So, you relent to his silent request and move to lay flat on your back. You blink up at him owlishly, waiting.

“Ever since that talk, the one where you told me to hold out until graduation so things can get better…I’ve been thinking.” This thing he has to say is making him nervous. His eyes skitter away, his cheeks are darkening, and his voice has the tiniest wobble to it. “Do you remember what we swore to each other after we graduated middle school? We were skipping stones.”

It takes you a few minutes to remember something from what feels like a lifetime ago. He rudely doesn’t say anything else to help your memory along, either. Finally, you remember it since there was really only one noteworthy conversation from around that time, right before you came to Tokyo.

Hey, if we’re still virgins by the end of high school, want to take each other’s virginities?

Surely not…that isn’t what he’s talking about, is it? Just the thought of it has your stomach twisting and heartbeat kicking up a little higher. To verify that that’s really what he’s referring to, you remind him, “We haven’t graduated yet.”

“As good as,” he whispers.

Ah. So…yeah. You guys are really having this discussion. Right. Okay. That’s…fine. But because you are how you are, you get boggled up in the details. “We have seven more months left.”

Suguru leans down, face hovering over yours. His long, dark hair that he didn’t bother to put in the usual neat bun falls like a curtain on either side of your faces. Almost as if you’re both being hidden away from the world. “Are you planning on losing your virginity to anyone else?”

Your throat clicks as you swallow. This conversation suddenly seems very…weighted. “No,” you whisper. F

“What’s the problem, then?” Amethyst eyes sweep over your face, heated in a way that you’ve never seen before. It’s a contrast with the almost hesitant way that he reaches up to hover next to your cheek in question. “This isn’t meant to pressure you,” he adds solemnly.

With a tilt of your head, you bump your cheek against his hand in silent permission to touch. “I know it’s not.” You do, truly. No lie. You’re a little overwhelmed, but it’s not necessarily bad. It’s…unfamiliar. “If anyone was pressuring, it was me. That was a weird thing to force a promise over.” Your brows knit together. For some reason, Satoru flashes across your mind, but interest in kissing isn’t the same as interest in having sex. Which is why you’re shocked that Suguru is bringing this up. “You’d seriously be okay with losing your virginity to me?”

Suguru smiles, small but genuine, and says your name and then, “It’s you.”

It’s you.

There is so much trust in that. Simple yet enough to shift the world ever-so-slightly. Things aren’t going to ever be the same, you realize, before recognizing that things have never been the same since last year. It’s you, he declares, and it’s true but so much more than that for you. It was always going to be you.

Curiously, you reach up to touch his cheek, as he does yours. Your thumb brushes the darkness under his eyes. The angles of his face are sharper, as obvious as the fact that he’s losing weight.

“Will this make you happy?”

Suguru’s gaze brightens with the impending mischievous comment. “Well, if you’ve had an orgasm, I’m pretty sure the answer to that question is obvious, Squid.”

“Not many, actually,” you casually admit. “They’re kinda lackluster.”

“That’s…really sad.” Then, he smirks smugly. “I’ll make your orgasms amazing.”

“That’s a pretty bold declaration for a virgin to make.”

“You have some nerve using virgin as an insult like that when you’re a virgin, too.” His eyes narrow playfully. “I’ll know my way around your body better than you’ll know mine.” You raise a brow, curious where that confidence comes from. “I’ve seen a JAV or two.”

“Pervert,” you intone.

Suguru doesn’t take the obvious bait meant to throw him into a tizzy. “I’m being honest with you. You’ve never had an issue with that before. What don’t we know about each other, hmm?” Yeah, okay, he’s got you there. “So, do you want to do this? It’s okay if you don’t. This doesn’t have to change anything between us.”

“You never answered my question. Will it make you happy?”

“Doing anything with you makes me happy.”

“Okay. If it makes you happy then it makes me happy, too.”

Then, for a long time, there’s no words spoken.

In a way, you think that this was always going to happen. For the last ten years, you’ve shared everything with each other, so why would you not give your bodies to each other? There’s no judgement as you slowly strip down. There never has been. When you’ve borne your heart and soul to someone, seen the darkest parts of them and shown yours in return, nakedness seems like such a trivial thing to fuss over.

Between the kissing and leaving marks along one another’s necks and shoulders, your hands slide lower. At some point, you think he whispers something like, it’ll hurt less if you’re wet. And like that very first time that you felt true desire, this is so wildly different from when you touch yourself. He’s clumsy, unable to stick to one place in his curiosity, fingers gliding over your clit and then dipping down to slip inside you.

It’s a stretch. Stinging and painful with how much larger and longer his fingers are compared to your own. But the constant pressure on your clit has pleasure winning the war against pain. You fumble to keep your hand wrapped around his stupidly big dick, but the thoughts are quickly flittering away.

You’re not even sure how you manage to rub enough brain cells together to breathlessly ask, “Do you have a condom?”

Suguru freezes. “Uh…”

Ugh. No wonder Utahime says that men only think with their dicks. What does that make you, though? Because the halt of his fingers makes you whine and scramble to keep this pleasure going as long as you can. “Just…make sure to pull out before you come. Okay?”

He nods enthusiastically. “Okay.”

Something interesting builds inside you. Not an orgasm, but an ache. A gnawing hunger to fill the emptiness inside you. It must be inside him, too, because he murmurs, “I’m putting it in now, okay?” You nod as eagerly as he did. He kisses the place behind your ear. “Tell me if it hurts too much. I mean it, Squid. We can stop whenever you want.”

“I know,” you reply quietly. Then, you gently yank on one of his bangs, making him lean away a little to look down at you with a raised brow. “The same goes for you, too. If you want to stop, say so.”

Suguru’s expression softens so much that it makes you a little shy again. You try to turn your head away, but he tilts it back with a hand on your cheek and kisses you again. With all the things that you two have done so far, this is what makes you the most breathless. Kissing him always does. And just because you can, you place your hand over his heart, reassured to feel that his heart is beating as fast as yours is.

Fingers, you figure out, are nothing compared to that thing between his legs. It hurts, you’ll admit it. More than the twinges from before. It’s an easier glide than any of the times you’ve tried fingering yourself and you think that might be because you’re so wet, exactly like Suguru said. You bear down on instinct when he starts to press in. He hisses through his teeth, immediately pulling out.

You blink open your eyes. “Huh?”

Suguru’s cheeks are so red. He refuses to meet your gaze which is a rare thing indeed. “Sorry. You’re…you were squeezing me really tight. And…um…it’s…hot inside. And…wet…”

You giggle nervously, understanding that he was about to come. “It’s okay. You’re big, I’m tight, so this is good. It’s good for both of us if you go slow, right?”

“Right.”

For most of the time that he’s pushing inside, you’re kissing. Suguru will inch inside you a little further each time before abruptly pulling out. Each time he does this, he lasts a little longer, and you relax a little further. It starts as a painful stretch, shifts to more of a pinching, and then gets sore. The soreness, though, slowly becomes dulled against the blossoming pleasure.

By the time his pelvis is pressed to yours, you’re slipping your arms under his, clinging to him and begging, “Please don’t pull out this time.” Both of you are breathing heavily, soaked with sweat. “Please, Suguru. I know you’re not trying to tease me, but that’s how it feels now. I can’t stand how empty I feel when you leave.”

Face buried in the crook of your neck, Suguru breathes a sigh of relief. “Why didn’t you say something sooner? I’ve been going slow for you.”

“You didn’t catch on from the noise?”

“Did we not establish how important communication is here?”

That was meant to be a reprimand, but it sounds like there’s a smile in his voice. You won’t be able to maintain the eye contact long, you think, but you want to see his face. Just for a little while. So, you grab a fistful of his hair, giving a slight tug. Suguru reacts in a way that you definitely don’t expect. He moans and maybe unintentionally bucks his hips. Your grip gets tighter and the nails of your other hand dig into his back.

Suguru leans on one elbow, avoiding looking at you while he gently grasps your wrist, pulling it away from his hair. “Let’s not do that again,” he suggests hoarsely.

“You’re really struggling with this.” He scowls and you shake your head to it. “It’s…kind of a compliment. Am I that hot?”

He laughs quietly and strokes the high of your cheekbone with his thumb, suddenly looking so unbearably soft. “Squid, I’ve dreamed about this since we made that deal at the river. You’re beautiful. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen since I was six years old.”

This unknown emotion in your chest swells to the point where it’s unbearable. It’s a confession that you can’t handle. “Please,” you whisper, unsure what it is that you’re begging for.

Suguru takes the plea as one to move. He does. A tentative, unsure rolling of his hips. Your forehead lolls forward, pressing against his shoulder. It feels as if you’re about to burst out of your skin. The heat and pressure building inside you like a bomb. It all adds up, the little things. The brushing of fingers over nipples, the digging of nails into skin, the intertwining of your limbs, the breaths you feed each other when you kiss.

On the precipice of orgasm, Suguru moans loudly in your ear. Then, he pulls out, the warm ropes of his release coating your pussy and inner thighs. He doesn’t even catch his breath before his fingers roughly stroke your clit, throwing you over the edge with an arch of your back and fingers clutching at the fabric of the futon.

Suguru collapses on top of you, both of you giving an oomph. Your nerves are like livewires, so when he rests his cheek above your heart, it’s like you can feel his breath wash over your skin. You feel the need to say something, but he rests an arm over your bare waist, grips you tight, and kisses the spot above your breast. With a tilt of your head, you see his eyes are closed. His face is flushed, skin shining, but he looks…peaceful.

Yes, this is peaceful enough.

[wheelie-sick]

I wonder about your thoughts on fluctuating support needs? Not necessarily fluctuating between medium and low or medium and high but specific IADLS and BADLS that fluctuate? For instance I usually able to do most of my IADLs frequently enough to like mostly function - but not to the same frequency as is usually considered required or healthy ex. Going a day or two without eating, unintentionally waiting until the very last second to use the bathroom (and subsequent UTIs) not showering frequently enough etc… for BADLs it’s similar where I am able to live on my own and mostly do them but also need help a lot of the time. So there aren’t really any tasks that I always consistently need help with, but there aren’t many tasks that I can always reliably do without help either- some tasks i usually need help with and some I usually don’t, but it varies a lot as well. so I wonder about how much or how frequent the support needs to be in order to be considered a support need if that makes sense?

Okay I'm gonna try to write this without sounding super gatekeepy and harsh. just know my tone is supposed to be gentle

also, I'm not an expert in this so people who know more are welcome to weigh in or correct me

I would ask yourself about survival. one of the biggest factors in support needs is survival. while fluctuating support needs absolutely can be hard to deal with and complicate your position on the spectrum if you can survive without support I would put yourself in low support needs.

for myself, if I had every support taken away from me I would end up homeless and likely die as a result.

it sounds like you absolutely need support but I want to remind you (/general you) that needing support ≠ higher support needs. low support needs people still require support, sometimes quite a bit of it. to me the difference between the two really lies in the ability to survive without support. that's what ADLs are really trying to communicate-survival skills. that's why they are only the most foundational skills needed to get by in this society

the label MSN being about survival is so important for communicating the position we are in. being unable to survive without support is a scary position to be in. the idea of losing my mom is terrifying in a different way than it is for other people.

I am not going to tell you where you sit because I do not know you or your needs beyond what you've shared in a short ask. that's something you have to decide for yourself but I would seriously consider your ability to survive.

[aroacesafeplaceforall]

Hello there!

Mod team:

I’m Jay, I also go by Jamie! I’m gender queer and use any pronouns, but I am masc leaning (he/him), don’t be afraid to ask! I’m aegosexual-pansexual and a romance repulsed aromantic! I am neurotypical and the OG owner of this blog!

Hey people, my names Noah (or you can call me Nicola as that is a name I also go by :D) and I use they/them pronouns :) I have a long list of labels because I'm a complicated human being lol. I'm non-binary, lesbian/sapphic oriented aroace (I use both labels), with a handful of microlabels (greyromantic, aceflux, apothisexual and aegosexual), I'm also queer Platonic. I have diagnosed ADHD, and I'm an INFP B)

My name is Ray! I go by any pronouns, and I’m an Agender Cogirl. I am cupioromantic and aegosexual (and many other things, just ask if you want to know!). I also have diagnosed autism, and I’m an ISFP.

Hiiiiii!!! I'm the new mod :3 I’m Fizzamess, you can call me Fizz. I’m agender and prefer using the pronouns “they/them” but I don't get mad if you call me any other pronoun. I’m a proud aegoaroace (aegoromantic and aegosexual) and I'm also caedsexual. I have OCD, lol.

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Ask box is always open and we’re always here for your asks!

We are here to educate, explain and help with anyone who needs it!

Stay safe, remember you are valid and it's your box!

LOVE U ALL YOU'RE VALID

Commonly asked questions!

Link to my Aro-spec post

Link to a post containing most Ace Spec identities

Asexual Wiki, Aromantic Wiki,

the Asexual Visibility and Education Network -Asexual resource

AUREA — the Aromantic-spectrum Union for Recognition, Education, and Advocacy

List of Aroace Spectrum resources

Amazing post by @styrofauxm "So...you're questioning if you are aromantic and/or asexual..."

The comments section link to a helpful article on how to educate/beat the acephobes

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Recommend blogs

Please feel free to ask me first, if I don’t provide a good answer, or you want more you can ask again or go to one of these blogs! Please tag more blogs I should add to this list!!

@asexualadvice — asexual advice! (Read blog but helpful info!)

@aegosexual-moments — the aegosexual blog of all time (excluding myself /j)

@aromantic-diaries — Very cool aro person!

(Yes I know my profile pic is off-centre, suffer, It's still off-centre, suffer more)

(It’s separate because aroace is unfortunately usually viewed as one identity, ace and aro are separated spectrums)

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The Blogs

blogs that are kinda fan accounts???? WTF????

@aroaceplaceforsome they’re the neutral party here, they use pronouns @throwawaysoiwontgeteatenbyjamie a whore @jamies-a-great-person @aroaceappreciationplace -more whores (lovingly)

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The forces:

A collection of multi member blogs dedicated to one country of aspecs… all against Denmark

@aussieaspecforces

@indianaspecforces

[atom-system]

Hii! What is a system?? /genq

I've been often seeing this term but I don't fully know what it means, I suppose it has something to do with multiple personalities but I don't wanna jump to conclusions and end up accidentally making people uncomfortable, so if you could explain with details I'd appreciate it ^^

hi! Glad you asked

You're on the right track there with "multiple personalities" but it's a bit more than that.

Important note!

We are not professionals, we know little outside of our own experience. If someone sees this and knows we are sharing misinformation, please correct us!

Systems, in their simplest definition, are when someone has multiple beings [ headmates, alters, whatever they call them ] that inhabit one body.

There is a ton of variation as being plural [ being part of a system/are a system ] is a very diverse condition.

This will likely get long so more info will be put under the cut. If you need any more clarification we are more than willing to provide information.

There's a lot of different types of plurality.

While it's a bit of a controversial opinion [ even though we believe it's entirely true ] there are non-disordered, disordered, non-traumagenic/endogenic, traumagenic, and many other subcategories.

Keep in mind that our syscourse stance will change the type of info we add here. Anti-endos are allowed to use this post for information if they want to but please remember we are traumaendo. And we ask that hate isn't directed at us on this post [ or in general ].

Lets start with:

Disordered traumagenic plurality

I do not know much about this being we are not one. Disordered traumagenic plurality is something that can actually be diagnosed since it is disordered. DID, OSDD, and other disorders can be defined with these labels. Traumagenic refers to how a system has formed by trauma. Trauma is inherently a very complicated topic. Many different situations causing trauma and certain traumatizing experiences nobeing validated as trauma male it this way.

Non-disordered traumagenic plurality

This kind of plurality could be caused by healing from disordered plurality [ losing the symptoms that makes a system disordered ] or not having enough symptoms to consider themselves disordered. Despite it not being disordered it is still just as valid, as are any other types of plurality.

Non-traumagenic/Endogenic plurality

"Endogenic" is a blanket term for any system that formed without/regardless of trauma. Meaning there are many subcategories within the term. It's so diverse that I would suggest doing your own research on specific terms if you want to.

Resources

-PluralPedia. Very helpful, helps with many terms!

-r/plural, r/pluralsystems, r/plural_irl (memes and community), r/pluralmemes (on Reddit), r/DIDinclusivity

-the multiplicity wiki on fandom

-simply plural resource page

[ ^ edited, from @ plural-dictionary ]

[ ^ posts/websites proving endogenic plurality if I remember correctly ]

These sources will be/lean pro endo as that is our stance. You are allowed to do whatever other research you find necessary though.

[ ^ some of our own posts explaining our experience ]

We hope this helped!

[bellsluck]

☆ about me ☆

hii, i’m bells!

thought it was about time i made an introduction.

i’m 21, a capricorn sun, leo moon, cancer rising (astrology freak), my ethnicity is a little complicated but i’ll put it as half british and half portuguese. i can speak english and portuguese fluently and have a half-decent grasp of spanish. i’ve lived in the uk for most of my life. sexuality: no labels.

i’d say i’m new to tumblr as this is the first time in my life i’m actually using it regularly, i think I’ve got the hang of it now. i feel so at home on here and i love having new mutuals hehe. feel free to message about literally anything (save me from the “singles in your area looking for-” dms, i beg).

☆ interests ☆

i love writing and reading, fanfic, music and film, generally just immersing myself in other worlds tbh. kisses to pinterest, ao3 and wattpad. tumblr now too i guess.

seemingly never ending harry potter obsession. marauders era, hogwarts legacy era, etc. slytherin girly. i was part of hptok at its peak in like 2020/2021, my page was basically dedicated to it. it was so much fun.

also star wars, specifically the hayden christensen trilogy, but i love the ogs too and i thinkmy favourite spin-offs are the mandalorian and obi-wan kenobi. if i ever get married it will be at lake como, idc how many times it's been done. i was at one of the filming locations last summer (theed palace) and almost crying like a little biatch.

i like video games too (mostly play on switch), but i’m very picky when it comes to finding ones i actually like, then I will rack up hours on it like there's no tomorrow… we love hyperfixation over here. love love love stardew valley, animal crossing and games along those lines but atm i’ve been doing my rounds on the resident evil games (re2 og, re4 remake, re6, down bad for leon kennedy) and also hogwarts legacy, i’ve finished most of it, i just have to complete my field guide now (desperately want to replay for the sebastian quests, also the new mod stuff is so cool!).

music wise, i listen to lots of different stuff, constantly go through phases, but for my all timers, aka can quote their discography from start to finish, i’d probably say lana del rey, radiohead, the weeknd and nirvana. recently it’s been lots of david bowie, queen, beabadoobee, portishead, fleetwood mac, the beatles… i could go on.

always open to recommendations for songs, playlists, films, series, games, books, fanfics, or anything, i love it all.

☆ onto the topic of shifting... ☆

i am happy to announce i am free from the shackles of “shift-tok”. if yk, yk. 

i’ll take this as a chance to ask nicely for any antis to please, please, not interact from here on out. thank you.

so, i initially found out about shifting on hptok 2020 (huge surprise ik) and so obviously i wanted to go to hogwarts. like??

needless to say i got caught up in all the tiktok misinformation, blatant lies, complicated asf methods, self explanatory. sorry younger-me. i could explain more but all in all i was too impatient and clueless, didn't really know what i was doing at all, eventually got bored, busy with school, and assumed everyone was lying (a few were, it seems).

 i completely forgot about it all after that until i came across a shifting post on reddit a few weeks ago. my tiktok fyp started filling with shifting/manifestation videos too right after. i was coincidentally in between a rewatch of the harry potter films at this point too. you know where this is going. i started seeing tiktoks from smaller creators just answering people’s questions about shifting, and it was all so different from all the stuff i’d heard years ago, spoken about in a completely different way, which just made so much sense to me and was so intriguing. i decided to delve into it all once again. it was those same creators who also would mention tumblr, and i, who had just joined tumblr for writing related stuff not long ago, decided to start searching up things related to shifting.

 i eventually came across some great accounts and information, stories of experiences, motivation, help. i started reading “journeys out of the body” by robert monroe too, so interesting, btw, and have since began my own shifting/exploring consciousness journey (i try to be careful what words i use for things, for lots of reasons, and i understand everyone might use different terms, reminder that i haven’t been on here for that long). it’s been amazing so far. 

(i may have straight up searched shifting realities on google the other day. curiosity got the best of me. it was bad. don’t do it.)

to not mislead anyone, no, i haven’t actually had a full experience in my specific “dr” yet. however it’s only been a small amount of time and i’ve already had lots of different types of sensations and experiences that i’ve never had before and it’s all so beautiful and interesting to me. i definitely view things a lot differently than i did before. i have shiftblr to thank for it.

i adore finding new shifter blogs and reading everything on them, so if i’m giving stalker behaviour it just means i’m loving your stuff or you're all over my feed. 

idk what i’m even going to post about yet, if or when i do. maybe i’ll write a bit into my “journey” so far, any experiences or how and what i do to get into certain states, about my dr, or stuff i’m just nerdy about in general. 

fyi just because i write does not mean i will always use any grammatical skills at all when writing for blog. sorry ;)

if you ever have any questions i’ll love you forever i will answer as best as i can.

this wasn’t all that exciting but i just wanted a little intro because i’m always blank on my socials. 

 thanks for reading !!

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆

[coquelicoq]

Shuuichi had always found autumn a lonely time: his breath a haunting ghost in the air; branches stretching, naked and imploring, to an indifferent sky. His birthday, never a particularly populous occasion, was in November. After his first magazine profile, shortly before his twenty-first birthday, he had started getting mail about it from fans, which only made the lack of any in a personal capacity all the more jarring. The first time Natsume wished him a happy birthday, he barely kept the surprise off his face. Surprise, and something else, something tangled he couldn't quite name, despite his hard-won expertise in identifying and replicating emotions. There were too many facets, overlapping, mutually exclusive in a way that should have canceled out, but didn't.

Natsume said it awkwardly, of course. He seemed unsure if it was all right for him to acknowledge Shuuichi's birthday, given he'd only learned about it through some friend of his who was a fan, and only in the second year of knowing Shuuichi.

"Of course it's all right," Shuuichi told him, the wind pushing them forward as they walked side by side. "It's nice, actually." It was many things, but nice was one of them, so it wasn't a lie.

"It's just," Natsume said hesitantly, "I know birthdays can be complicated." Shuuichi had time to wonder how he could have found out (Did such a vast reserve of spiritual power allow a person to read minds?, he wondered, not for the first time), before Natsume continued, "When I was younger, it was easier if no one knew when my birthday was. Then there couldn't be any expectations."

Shuuichi thought, Garden variety childhood neglect, then. Nothing to do with those strange, fleeting years of having somebody to share birthdays with, or the years after, when he knew what he was missing. But Natsume wasn't wrong, either. He thought, briefly, of his own early birthdays, waiting to see if his father had remembered, and knew it must have been worse for Natsume. This kid, with his big heart, with his undampened spirit—or rather, dampened and in the process of undampening. Shuuichi felt a familiar rush of affection that didn't even hurt anymore.

"And now?" he asked Natsume. "How are you feeling about your birthday nowadays?"

He looked in front of him, at his breath, at those damn branches, giving Natsume time to respond. "I'm…still getting used to it," Natsume admitted after a moment. "It's weird, having people pay so much attention. It's hard to get used to. And…maybe I don't want to get used to it."

In case it stops, Shuuichi completed mentally. It was easier never to trust, and never to be disappointed. It hurt less. But it wasn't better.

Shuuichi turned and gifted Natsume a smile. He had so many different smiles: charming smiles, ironic smiles, selfie-with-a-fan smiles, smiles for when a stranger professes a desire to eat jelly beans out of one's belly button. Dozens upon dozens of smiles for every conceivable occasion, labeled and slotted into place in his mental storehouse. He had crafted them, each one; they were his tools, his currency. But this smile he felt like Natsume had created—or maybe it had always been inside him, in potentia, and Natsume had been the one to wake it up.

It was gentle, this smile. Like Natsume.

"It is hard," Shuuichi said. "But I'm proud of you." It didn't really make sense, didn't seem to follow directly from what Natsume had said, but Natsume ducked his head, embarrassed, and Shuuichi, feeling merciful, changed the subject.

Natsume took him home for dinner, where the Fujiwaras also knew what day it was, and where nobody said anything about why he didn't have anywhere else to be, anyone else to celebrate with. They thanked him for coming, like he was the one doing them a favor. Touko-san made a huge meal, a feast really, and in front of Natsume's foster parents that cat of his couldn't even make snarky comments about puny human lifespans. It was a good birthday, his best since…well, in a while.

They offered to set up a futon for him (it's already so dark, it's cold, all that time on the train!), but he had an early shoot in the morning. He was halfway home when he realized he'd left his glasses behind, but fortunately he always carried a spare. He wondered what the Fujiwaras thought his glasses were for, now that they knew he could see well enough to forget them.

Off the train, through the park, along the water. Twenty-five. A fake number. Most days he felt himself already an old man. The wind picked up, scraping the denuded branches against each other. He felt loud, present. With the noise he made wading through leaves, surely anyone could hear him coming from a block away. Unless, of course, it was drowned out by the sound of the wind, and their own wading.

A crack ahead, and something thumped to the ground. A small branch, snapped off, still covered in maple leaves. Ironic, that the bare branches should be fine, while this lively specimen, heavy with color, had fallen. But then again, those branches weren't dead, were they? Maybe it was their lightness that had saved them. And they would be green again, come spring.

His building now, thick with warmth. The elevator: a weary man, face and suit equally creased, heading home late from the office. His door, and now he was inside, taking his time untying his shoes, not wanting to turn on the lights, which were always depressing at night, glaring off white walls stark and unforgiving against the darkness.

He went over to the phone and plugged it in, in case someone tried to call him about the glasses. If Touko-san found them, she'd be sending Natsume out here with them at the earliest opportunity, which wasn't necessary. In fact, maybe he should call them first and head off the possibility. What time was it now? Was it too late to call?

A ringing. Speak of the devil. He picked up the receiver, but suddenly it occurred to him this could be a curse call instead, not about his glasses at all. In his moment of hesitation, a voice came down the line.

"Shuuichi-san," it said, natural, like it hadn't been years since he had heard that name from that mouth. "Happy birthday."

A beat. His heart began to pound, knocking against his gums. The lizard burrowed frantically under a sleeve. Not Natsume, and not a curse. Or not the kind of curse he'd been thinking of. Shuuichi clutched the phone. He felt—what did he feel? Why must there be so many nameless emotions?

He didn't know what to call this. But he felt something stirring, a familiar sensation. A smile, a different one, dormant, waking up. It was groggy, and far from his mouth, but it was there, it was possible. It had been there, waiting, for spring.

"Seiji," he said, with a mouth that wasn't smiling but could learn how. "Hello."

[theteasnake]

I'm once again talking about Danny Johnson because fucking brain rot.

But also character analysis because that's how I show love to my favorite (comfort) characters. 🩵

I swear I'm not trying to flood the Danny tag.

I've seen a lot of characterization of Danny, ranging from abusive and manipulative to a man whore who's a perv.

And I'd like to throw in: just a very tired dude who happens to be mentally unwell.

The only thing keeping this guy from offing himself is his hobbies, which just so happens to be creating stories and murdering. Like, if things went differently and he didn't turn to murder, he'd probably just end up a horror writer (good ending).

Other than stories/killing, he has adrenaline, but those almost always end in a crash. And at some point, he's gotta settle down for bed.

He's never made any meaningful connections to anyone outside of his dad, and even then, it seemed very... unpleasant and complicated. Even he can't tell if he has positive or negative feelings for his dad.

Even if he interacts with other people, he's still isolated because they don't know the real him. He's people-pleasing to the max because his livelihood and survival depends on how likable he is, because why would such a nice and young man commit all these murders all over the country? The same can be said about him and his dad, he had to be what his dad wanted him to be. It's not said if his dad was physically abusive, but military dads who came back from war tend to have a track record of being unkind to their sons.

I don't think he's ever felt a moment of relaxation or peace. He constantly has to watch others and keep a distance, and even when he's alone at home, all he does is sit and stare over his work. He has no sense of identity outside of his murders and stories.

I also saw that the developers called him narcissistic, mainly as an insult, and I don't know much about NPD (I've seen others say he has symptoms and most likely has it), so I can't comment on that. But I don't think the insult is even justified, he's not using others for his own needs, he keeps others at arms length because as soon as someone gets too close, he's done for. He also doesn't seem to be too showy with his work outside of his Ghostface persona, it's even said that he's only written some of the articles on GF (meaning his job in Roseville).

I doubt he's even been in a genuine romantic relationship. He's probably entertained the idea just to keep face or to blend in more because it would be weird for a young guy to not be looking for a girl to settle down with.

Not to mention the exhaustion from getting up early, working a 9-5, then staying up late to stalk/kill, then having to constantly play a character and following a script almost 24/7, while being on alert nearly his whole life. Then then suddenly being thrown into a slower pace environment where he doesn't have to worry about dying or being caught or having to pretend.

I could only imagine the whiplash he had.

Not to mention being labeled the Entity's (basically the god of this realm) golden child and favorite. I wouldn't be surprised if that title also adds stress/pressure.

Sure, he probably enjoyed it for the first hundred or so trials. But eventually everything starts being the same, and it's always the same people each time, and he's only allowed to do so many things in the trials, it eventually gets boring.

He went from taking his time to learn his prey, planning out an extravagant kill to rushing everything and doing things on a whim or following the same script over and over again (check gens, expose people, chase them, hook them, rinse, and repeat).

And we don't know how trials actually work in universe, we don't know if they canonically get breaks or even if the killers get breaks, or if they actually have places to stay in in-between trials, or if they're just overworked with trials back to back to back. We don't know if he is even given a chance to explore things and himself in the realm because he sure as hell never got one in his world.

Tattoos and piercings? Couldn't get them, those are identifiers and he'd stick out, plus it would leave a trail (idk in the 90s, but I had to give up ID to get my tattoo, and certain piercings need ID as well). He would constantly have to change his hairstyle and hair color, along with using makeup to make himself look different (that scar on his forehead is an identifier). He'd be forced to wear clothes that would match his current character's taste, never his own because that would be too consistent. He'd have to change up his way of talking (adding accents, switching up his vocabulary to match the locals, maybe even changing how his voice sounds). Constantly talking about topics he barely knows about because people around him enjoy it, pretending to be in the know to stay in the crowd. The only thing that he knows he enjoys is horror, but even then it doesn't scare him anymore and he only longs for the days when it did (and also probably rock considering his terror radius has some rock elements)

Who is he really? Who knows because he sure as hell doesn't. Maybe even that goofy side is just another facade to make others like him more.

I know a lot of his personality is hidden and not shown because it's supposed to be "it could be anyone" type of thing, but also, that could just play into the fact that he's technically a "nobody". Forever changing and blending in. I doubt even his Ghostface persona is the real him, it's probably just another character in his stories.