#is autistic across all possible universes

[naranjapetrificada]

RIP Stede Bonnet, you would have loved that youtube channel where the guy collects, describes, and prepares historical military rations.

(brought to you by my current WIP where Stede is stoked about getting to try borts for the first time)

[fvaleraye]

limbus company is a wild game. you play as a nonbinary amnesiac who got their head cut off and responded by replacing it with a flaming wall clock, whose second job is to (ineffectually, at first) be the manager of a group of people on a bus and whose first job is to revive and heal them anytime anything happens, which is all the time. your party is comprised of a dour scientist who has a habit of speaking in poetry, a mysterious white haired genius implied to be in a constant mental discord call with different versions of herself across multiple universes, an autistic woman who named her shoes after a fictional horse and turns into an ancient and powerful vampire if they're ever taken off, a swordswoman who speaks a third of her mind in acronyms and loves to murder people "artistically", an autistic frenchman built like a fridge who refuses to be a person unless ordered to, a long haired rich pretty boy who accidentally pisses people off with his sheltered behavior half the time and pretends to be dumber than he is to purposefully annoy people the other half, a british thug whose entire plot could have been solved by just spitting it out and also turned into a wolf monster for a bit, a ginger who got bored of her office job and decided to get on a boat and hunt whales about it, a russian gambler whose mental health and self image are rapidly deteriorating while she is also getting progressively worse at hiding it, a young man who is really in over his head while also being very good at killing people who also is weirdly good at translating the earlier mentioned swordswoman's acronyms, a kiss-ass former military woman who would probably kill everyone else in the party if she thought she could get away with it, and a german former-soldier who got a mutant bug arm and intense ptsd and depression. there's also the all powerful guide who tells you where to go who is legally not allowed to be too helpful and is also perpetually sick of your shit, and the strange girl who drives the bus you all ride in without a license or a lick of training. also the bus looks like a train. add onto the fact that most of the characters and their backstories are references to classic literature, and you have what is possibly the world's MOST dysfunctional dnd party.

we love this fucking game.

[atiianeishaunted]

blue writing is lance's notes fyi anyway uhh character bios below !! long ass writing warning but worth it i promise chat pspsp | no notes version AND the transparent PNGS down at the end!

character bios:

Allura [???] | A lone princess who is burnt out and stressed out her mind, her only solace/stress relief being the garden she has where she can have peace and quiet, shutting her brain off while she does the tasks of tending to her precious plants and bugs. She tries her best to remain as friendly and optimistic as possible, if not for her own sanity, however thanks to the stress and pressure put on her, she has a tendency to lose her cool and sometimes shut down entirely. She has a passion for commanding and loves honing her fighting skills as that was one of the ways she bonded with her father. She more often than not can be seen in comfortable clothes, she doesnt mind dresses and does enjoy dressing up but will only do it when shes going out the castle or theres a meeting. | this gal couldve been an burnt out autistic queen DREAMWORKS, YOU COUDLVE MADE HER ICONIC .... let her be a dorky nerd whos a hater sometimes, pretty please

Takashi Shirogane | A garrison commander (no one is really sure of his job title to be honest with you..) who's insanely passionate about his job, to the point where hes willing to sacrifice it all if the garrison wills it. Anything to serve. He tries his best to fit in and be hip with the kids, he tries to come across as the 'chill' teacher, but students of his have reported that after a few months, any amount of chillness is thrown out the window. If not that, hes often not even in class, too busy doing missions he wasnt assigned to. He's intense. Very intense. Knows his way around words though for the most part, can be very convincing and a bit maniuplative, very goal driven. He means well though? Thats what he says. He always throws a quick sorry if someone brings it up with him, so that must mean something. | sorry in advance if you follow along with Sonder's story... unrelated but dreamworks wrote a banger antagonist without even realizing!

"Keith" Kogane / "Morse" | Unknown origins. He was a talented garrison pilot who could practically fly with his eyes closed, a jack of all trades, short tempered and prone to losing it but all things considered, the perfect cadet for the garrison's goals, he came out of nowhere practically, just poofed in like a ghost and wiped the floor with everyone. He really just needed a good guiding hand. No one is quite sure what gender he is, his androgynous appearance and tendency to respond to anything besides being called a girl have people baffled to say the least. He's very clearly not all there in the head either which goes hand in hand with his odd bursts of ego and then odd bursts of whining, these bursts often include talks that could only be described as cult-ish. People have their theories. Beyond those bursts, hes mostly very deadpan and quiet. But despite his strength and that intense feeling of fear and dread people get when they're around him, he's.. popular, somehow. Admired greatly for his devilish good looks. A universal appeal if you will. He doesn't seem to notice. Or perhaps doesnt care. Either way he's far too busy following Shiro around and treating him like the second coming of god to really indulge in romance for now. Lance's self proclaimed rival, Keith is also unaware of this. | also sorry in advance for this one if you follow sonder's storyline Lance McClain | A former Garrison cargo pilot who moved up in rank when Keith got kicked out. Keith is his rival and also all that Lance can talk about, even after the guy got kicked out and left for dead (Lance overheard some things while sneaking out past the teacher's lounge). He has a very noticable personality and loves to be the center of attention, hes still finding his footing and figuring out what he wants to do with his life and who he wants to be. Despite his many claims, hes not all that popular. He can't really flirt with girls all too well. His general goal is to be so well known so he won't ever be forgotten, hence why he begged his mom to let him dye his hair and get piercings (if he used Keith as an argument, thats none of your business.) (he saw keith dying his hair once or twice and instantly wanted to copy, its a bad habit.). He loves LOVES taking care of his appearance and is fairly vain, he has extensive routines and will freak out if he can't follow them. His ego and overbearing confidence is all to drown out his deep insecurities and fears. He tries his best to come across as a suave, cool, charming, awesome, any positive adjective really, person but in all reality he's a mama's boy, a dork, a loser if you will who has a love for the retro and is a huge gamer. If he must admit, he and Keith'd get along great actually, Keith ticks alot of boxes and honestly Lance deeply admires him and wants to be like him. | dreamworks dropped that lance was a gamer and loved retro stuff and then never talked about it again. sigh. Hunk Garrett | Hunk has many passions, mainly inspired by parents, he mainly specializes in cooking and mechanics, he enjoys tinkering with things, taking them apart to see how they work and working from there to see if he can rebuild it with 0 instruction, hes gotten good at it. He's Lance's childhood best friend, they're extremely close and are often seen constantly poking fun at eachother. Its all in good fun though. Hunk struggles extremely with anxiety and has a service dog back home that he left at home when heading to the Garrison as he worried he couldn't take care of it while studying. Despite his anxiety, he quite enjoys talking to people and sharing things he enjoys with them, he often tries to get over his fears by branching out and | I looked up his name from the old show because he deserves an 'actual' name, free my boy, he was done so dirty, also i remember when we all thought hunk had two moms (or was that just me ..) and i live by it tbh, two moms and a dad whos still active in his life, 3 whole parents for the greatest fella ever

Pidge Holt | Not much can be said about Pidge, they keep to themselves and don't share much about themselves. Just like Keith, their gender is often up to debate and when asked, Pidge will never give a consistent answer. They're a major tech wiz and with their talents, they're a complete menace. Pidge is prone to being mischevious and pranking others, often taking jokes a bit too far. They're egotistical and find that robots are their preferred companions in comparison to humans. | loser chronically online 13 year old who would tell you to kys, matt probably has to take away their electronics all the time LMFAO purposely made their outfit look a bit strange bc , theyre a kid whos a NERD /aff let them dress a bit stupid and let them cringe at it 5 years later ty

No notes version and PNGS below :-)

im insane about this reboot!! please reblog and im willing to elaborate if anyone wants me to <333 hrgfhrfg i really want this to take off bwaa

[thunderstomm]

I was originally not going to make a post about this, but after seeing a few other posts about it, I wanted to make my own. I have a LOT to talk about.

TW: Transphobia, Homophobia, Ableism

If you don’t know what I’m taking about- there was a post made by a user, who’s name I will not disclose or share, who discussed how they would rewrite the new Monster High G3 Cartoon. While some of the points were mundane, or points of preference, others made me very uncomfortable, as they got rid of much of the diversity that G3 has brought into the Monster High Universe. I want to quickly go through three of the points that I felt were erasing these steps in diversity, and my thoughts on each one, and why I think that it’s iffy, to say the least.

First is the statement “all of the couples from G1 will stay together”. While this may read to some as a preference for the old couples, in the context of rewriting G3- it comes across as the erasure of both couples involving a neurodivergent character being the subject of a crush, and being seen as desirable and loved (Manny x Twyla), and what probably was the intended couples they wanted to seperate, the canonically queer ships. In particular, this is most likely against Clankie (and POSSIBLY an s2 ship which I won’t say by name because some people want to go in blind. Instead I will refer to it as 🧡💚.). In this rewrite context, wanting to take away queer relationships which many writers and designers for Monster High have fought for in many shapes and forms. G1 never had explicit queer characters, the closest things being a scrapped SDCC diary entry (Valentine x Spelldon), Post-Ending 3rd party statements (Clawdeen is a Lesbian, Rebecca x Venus, etc.) and implied characters (Kiyomi). While these are okay, they are NOT the same as explicit queer couples, which are arguably more important to push forward in the talk and scope of present and future representation.

While it is okay to prefer the G1 ships, in the context of bringing them back for G3, it erases these queer couples, and ignores the lore and universe of G3. In G3, Cleo and Deuce are exes. And if you don’t like that, you can still watch G1!! It’s not magically disappeared, the movies and shows and music is all still out there, and most of it is free! But, erasing Clankie, 🧡💚, and other potential queer ships in G3, for the preservation of a m/f ship isn’t okay.

On the subject of erasure, there is the statement “Frankie is still non-binary, but now uses she/they pronouns”. A character canonically using they/them in cartoons, especially ones made for kids, are uncommon. Honestly, I don’t even know if I could name 10, and that says more about the state of non-binary representation than it does about me. While changing the pronouns of a cisgender character to gender neutral ones is often done in fandom, and often not a point of issue, taking a character who is canonically non-binary and solely uses they/them and giving them typically gendered pronouns erases that under represented group, and allows for transphobes to ignore the “they” in “she/they”, and only use “she” for the character. This is an issue in real life too, for many who use multiple sets of pronouns, including myself (they (preferred) / he) ! We deserve both of their sets of pronouns to be used, and people who only use they/them deserve to be referred to by and as they/them. These changes hurt everyone.

Then, we come to the one I see the most talk about, and the one that made me audibly yell “what the f-?!”- taking away Twyla’s canon autism diagnosis, and symptoms & traits, and replacing it with autism coding, so that she is easier to identify with. First of all- easier for who??? Neurotypicals ?? It is incredibly rare to see a character on kids TV outright say “I am autistic”, and Twyla is wonderful as representation. Twyla will not resonate or be relatable to every person- but that is true for all characters, not just autistic ones. Autistic people are not a monolith, it is a spectrum, with many different ways to present itself. Also… taking away all of her traits and symptoms to make her more relatable? These traits and symptoms are what would have made her “autistic coded”, and without them, you have a character who is NT.

Autism isn’t a quirky word you can use to describe anyone, it is a disability, that myself and many others have, and see misrepresented time and time again. And to say that a good example of it is not good, and would be better off to be erased and replaced with coding is insane. Coding is okay, but that’s all it is. Real spoken representation matters so much to me, and so many other people, even if the characters we see are not identical to us in those symptoms and traits they exhibit. These characters should not be changed, but rather, more autistic characters, with different presenting symptoms and traits, should be introduced !

You can like G1, you can prefer G1, but that does not mean that you have to make a sanitised version of G3, that makes it identical to G1. In terms of representation, there is no arguing that G3 has G1 beat. The poster said on their post that “any new characters would be made more relatable”, but… to who? Because I relate to a lot of the G3 characters more than the G1 ones, and I grew up loving G1! It’s not been wiped, all of the media still exists for you to watch, and make headcanons for ! If you like G1- good for you! But please, stop trying to make G3 exactly like it. Because change is inevitable in these kinds of reboots, and it allows for the representation some want to take away.

Thank-You for those who read all the way!

[whetstonefires]

okay so for the proposed very funny 'secretly half vulcan spock' modern coffeeshop AU scenario sparked by that concretes post, the only reasonable way i can see to set this up (without messing up vulcan culture in ways that would annoy me) is if Sarek crash-landed in Canada--probably alone in an escape pod, although if we want to make him the only survivor of a larger vessel coming down who evaded the government that could work too.

anyway Sarek doesn't have a sciences background to the extent Spock does, so i feel that finding himself in a 'stone knives and bearskins' scenario would be a bigger problem for him, and he'd have a great deal more trouble working around issues like 'i need some platinum to make this machine work' and his partner is like 'lol well i got bread.'

so he's stuck in canada trying to signal Vulcan for surreptitious rescue, and in the meantime he falls in with Amanda Grayson and they get him a fake identity and fulfill some cliches. and to their surprise they're reproductively viable, hello Spock.

so this fic is set like 20 years later and Spock is in college. i want to say in iowa because that's the natural habitat of jim kirk but spock is too much of a goddamn snob to go to school in iowa, they have no Notable Institutions, sorry iowa.

maybe he's got an associate professorship at the University of Iowa; academic job market sucks. Or maybe Jim left Iowa as soon as possible, being how he is, and they're in Big City.

the older they are the more you can stick them anywhere on earth for this. the younger they are, the more easily you can justify spock picking up a part-time job at the coffee shop. depends on where you want to go with the story.

anyway Jim runs (owner? manager?) the Not Starbucks indie coffee shop where Spock goes all the time (to get Not Coffee) and Spock being secretly half alien doesn't come up for ten chapters, except for how he comes across as spectacularly autistic and never takes off his stupid headband that covers his ears and eyebrows even when it's 102F.

[doubletaileddoubletrouble]

I like doing things my own way, so instead of making my own propaganda, here's a little list of everyone we associate with! From blogs, we interact with constantly to blogs we've only seen once across our collection.

If you like us, give all of the blogs a follow! Spam us with likes, and of course, reblogs help tons! Oh! And don't forget, asks! We love asks, dark, plot pushing, silly, random ass questions? We love it!!

This list is in an organized order rather than date, or impact that you guys have- my autistic ass has a certain way of ordering the Sonic characters

If I missed anyone, or if it's after I posted this and I forgot to add you, comment, and I'll make sure to get you!!

Main Cast!

Sonic: @ask-sonc

Tails: @doubletaileddoubletrouble

Metal Sonic: @metalthemechanicalmenace

Eggaman: @theegghaver

Nine: @9oftails

Doctor Starline: @doctor-starline

Less active, but still common interactors:

Speedy: @battle-kukku-xvi

Amy + Cream + ect: @askbunnyroses

Tails Doll + Metal Knuckles + Metal Amy: @team-metal-line

Knuckles: @doyouknowdawae

Sage: @aiintelligence

Cubot: @botgonerogue

Orbot: @badniksandmemoirs

Belle: @ask--belle

Chaos Sonic: @thebetterblue

Surge:

Kitsunami:

Only an interaction or two, but there is possibilities:

Amy: @amyroseblog (@doubletaileddoubletrouble)

Other universes? Is that what we're going with, Sonic?

Tails: @two-of-tails

Shadow: @shadowlikesguns

Ocs/other-blogs/ect:

@soulful-rodent

@pennyfortheirthought

@ask-the-milos-brothers

@damien-the-ghostly-crow

And of course, the fallen accounts:

@ask-sonc - @soncrunning

[yeen-meteor]

something i find cool about asuka is like. it feels like when aria made her decision to pass away peacefully, like. Sol was all ready to fight tooth and nail against fate, all in fury and denial and whatever, but asuka was more just like. i don't understand your decision. it doesn't make sense. you being alive is good and you being dead is bad, so your decision is wrong and i won't honor it. and then every fear she had about being kept alive came to pass (and worse! so much worse than she could've possibly imagined!) and asuka probably still doesn't get that that decision was The Mistake.

his decisions all made sense to him, and it seems like he's still trying to figure out why his decisions led to what they did and made him who he is - and he's still talking about how he doesn't really understand people's feelings.

this is like. hard to explain in a way that sounds right, but. i think it's cool the way it feels like asuka's autism coding and asuka's universe-defining character flaws feel very tied together in a way that makes sense. It doesn't demonize him or act like neurodivergence Is the problem, it doesn't make excuses for him either, he just, is what he is, and did what he did because it made sense to him, and he was trying to do the right thing for Aria, in the same way that Sol was, and everything fell apart because he didn't listen to her, didn't listen when she told him what the right thing to do for her was, didn't try to understand her or accept her feelings as valid, just like Sol didn't listen to her and acted like his feelings were more important than hers.

idk. it's hard to get across what i mean but. i think asuka is a cool flawed autistic character. someone get that man some guidance and therapy that isn't from his own clones pls and pls teach him not to just override people's autonomy because he thinks he knows best while you're at it

[oatmealaddiction]

Personal rant time: Right now the United States is seeing a huge erosion in small childcare centers, particularly family run centers which are unable to contend with the lack of teachers and care providers, as well as enormous demands from government licensing. It's going to lead to an uptick in corporate centers because many states do not acknowledge preschool as an imperative. This is terrible for working class families, especially those who don't work during the day and who rely on family centers. Parents will either have to quit, or use under the table childcare that's not been properly vetted. This is again because of the belief that raising children is a mother's job, and a push back against women entering the workforce. The work is continuously undervalued, and there is no appreciation for people who work with young children. Early Childhood Education is across the board, one of the lowest paying degrees a person can get. This had lead to the staffing crisis, it's lead to centers being shut down, and parents waking up to find out they're going to have to quit their jobs because there's no centers near them with any room. And while this is what a lot of conservatives want, the problem is we've hit a point where families with two working parents is a necessity for most people. Mother's can't just quit and rely on their husbands income. It is not possible.

Inside centers too, the demands put on teachers (a largely female workforce) is really unreasonable. Our hours often go over what are agreed upon, we're often pressured to work sick, and you'd be shocked to hear how many teachers have wet themselves on the job because using the bathroom meant leaving children unattended and there was no one available to get them a break. We're also micromanaged to hell and back because nobody seems to understand we're professionals who were trained in child care. Everything we do falls under immense scrutiny, and there's not a lot of protection for us. A lot of teachers also feel pressured to stay in their jobs because leaving could mean the center shuts down due to lack of staff.

Strict regulations also make it awful on the children. I once had a teacher who worked with largely autistic children, children with down's syndrome, or children with cerebral palsy, and she said that when she started, licensing regulations essentially stipulated the children be strapped in a car seat in an empty room with no toys. She had to fight tooth and nail to get children blocks and outside time and a classroom pet, only to retire and have all of the materials she'd worked to get be removed the second she was gone. I work at a center right now that says any book with a tear in it should be considered unusable and it's making it difficult to find books to read for my class, let alone toys that meet all the strict regulations. Which in the case of family centers, being unable to meet all of these demands often means being closed and families losing their childcare. (It should be noted corporate day cares are not held to the same standards as small private day cares. I worked at a corporate center where children were being served expired food.) And the biggest victims in all of this are the children. Like, what does it say about us that childcare centers are closing in mass and children are being pushed out of the public sphere that much more? That we're so concerned about the safety of children we've taken away their books and toys and pushed them back into their homes. The ability to have safe childcare is going to be restricted to the upper class and even they are going to be fighting tooth and nail over what little resources are left. Meanwhile, working class families could be forced to use a dangerous under the table center or have to uproot their entire family to make ends meet. It is legitimately a crisis. Childcare is a necessity, it is something we cannot neglect. Support universal preschool, volunteer at small centers if you can, and advocate for regulation that protects workers and children vs. regulation that continues to restrict childcare.

[fgfluidity]

pincera (part 6) (finale)

Summary: pincera- Latin, ‘cup-bearer, one who mixes drinks’ || He meets his songbird.

Pairings: Damien/DA, Celine/Mark, Celine/Will

Tags: Alcohol, Bootlegging, Adultery, WWI, Fights, implied Overserving, Abusive Parents, Autistic!Seer!DA

Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

find it on ao3 | donate to my kofi

@opprose @statictay @volbeast @otterlyinluv @flerpdederp @hapikiou @mirrorslament (and if anyone else wants to be tagged lmk!

He met them in university, and nothing has been the same, since.

No, it wasn’t a flash of light, a singular moment of oh, everything’s different. Meeting them in the library in the early days of his university career was just that-- meeting someone new.

Granted, they were a bit quieter than most people he’s met, but they certainly made up for it. They’re a listener, the observant kind of person you can’t get much past, and the day he meets them, it’s very clear just what he’s in for.

He’s in the library at his university. It’s a lovely, quiet place, a massive room full of books and papers and archives, wings stretching out for yards like a massive bird alighted on their campus. The smallest sounds echo over the stone walls and ceilings, glide over the shining wooden floor; it being a library, everyone takes great care to remain as silent as is possible, but every now and then a mutter of a word or a whisper of breath bounces from somewhere else in the building, too quiet to make out but unmistakable all the same.

In that way, it reminds him of his home, the hard surfaces more likely to betray your presence than hold you close and safe, but the similarity ends there. Where his home holds stark monochrome from floor to ceiling, here the floors are rich brown, the walls and ceiling soft gray, with plenty of furniture almost to call it overstuffed. Desks and tables and chairs of similar polished wood, gleaming mahogany, and soft cushions in deepest green, the color of a forest in high summer.

It’s why, amidst the forest shades of the library, shelves of muted books standing tall and strong as trees, a startling flash of yellow surprises him.

It went by quickly, between the gaps in the shelves, but with his attention newly focused on it, he can make it out once it comes back: a sweater, bulky but soft, the color of sunshine. A person.

A person just coming from the political science section of the shelves, and not empty-handed.

Quickly, he moves for that section, scanning across the shelves and comparing to the piece of paper in his hands, his necessary selections written down in his neat script. Of his five choices, not a one of them remains, plucked from the shelves-- and freshly, by the gaps still left between the rest. Damn.

His mind casts back to the person he saw, a stack of books under their straining arms, too many to take at once. Too many to read at once. If by the off chance they took even one of his books, perhaps…

He turns on his heel to follow where their path might lead, but with their quick step, he’s uncertain by the end of the next section of shelves. It’s like tracking a bird through the trees, he thinks. Here but gone in a flash, with only the sharpest-- and fastest-- able to keep up, and by design at that.

This bird, however, has bright feathers, a pop of color in the muted branches.

When he comes out from the shelves, it’s into an expanse of tables and desks, various students dotted throughout. Each has books at hand, open as they jot down notes or complete homework, pencils scribbling away. A study area, then, and with his greatest hope--

Yes, there, at the far end! His bird, settling down with a stack of books-- a massive stack of books, with at least a few notebooks at hand. A nest of words made for them, and only for them.

He ought not to intrude. It wouldn’t be polite, and voices carry through the library. They seem comfortable, simply going about their day; they wouldn’t very much appreciate someone coming to bother him about their study practices.

Then again, how polite is it, really, to take more books than you could feasibly need in one study session? His interest in them isn’t just passing; he’ll need all of them, eventually, and even just one right at the moment would be nice. Why would they take all five?

They’re reading as he approaches, book propped up to conceal their face. One hand, every now and then, taps out something against the faded cover where it rests. Then, quickly as it happens, a page turns. The other four remain in their stack, waiting patiently for their turn.

Turn. They don’t need all of them at once. Once a step from the table, he clears his throat as quietly as he can manage, hoping not to disturb anyone else in the study area.

They don’t speak to him. Instead, a page in mid-transition freezes in air for a heartbeat or two, before slowly moving to settle into place. Then, before he truly realizes it, he’s the one being watched.

A pair of dark eyes, peeping over the edge of the book. It’s difficult to say how they regard him at all, at first, face unreadable as they just look, eyes darting here and there, only at his face for the briefest of moments.

It nearly feels like Celine, he thinks, unexpectedly frozen under their gaze. Watching, almost seeing into things, used to noticing. Still, it’s different to her; at the worst of times, Celine’s gaze can feel hungry, searching not to sate her curiosity but to have every last thing laid bare, knowing all for the sake of controlling and predicting outcomes.

Hers is icy. This is warm, and when he truly meets their eyes, just for a moment, he understands, too.

A bit hesitant, perhaps, nervous, but not malicious-- far from it. Mostly, it’s curiosity, and for its own sake at that. A creature of the same standing, wondering if friend or foe, and the blazing intelligence to do with that information as it will.

They have lovely eyes.

He catches himself, warm in his cheeks, and clears his throat once more before pointing to their stack of books, neatly set aside. A question he hopes they’ll understand.

Their eyes flick over on cue, and they take another second or so before nodding, using one hand to push the stack closer to him.

Smiling, grateful that his hopeful expression didn’t read as desperate, instead-- or maybe it had, he can’t say-- he takes one off the top. Before he can so much as offer his thanks, something else scoots towards him, across the table.

A notebook. Theirs, turned to a blank page, with writing across the top. It isn’t the neatest, but it’s legible enough for him to read while standing.

Sit, please. It’s easier, should you want to look at something else.

When he looks up, there’s a twinkle in their eye that stokes the heat in his face once more, though it disappears so quickly he can hardly say it was there to begin with. A chair beside him scoots forward, seemingly of its own accord, and he takes it gratefully as his new tablemate straightens up in their chair.

It’s smart to use notes, considering how voices carry, and he whips out his pencil to write his own, nudging the book back once finished.

Thank you for allowing me to borrow it. Unfortunately, I need it for my class, or I wouldn’t have troubled you.

Almost immediately, a reply comes back.

I shouldn’t have taken all of them. I suppose I’m used to biting off more than I can chew. I apologize.

Well, you gave it back, and allowed me to join, so I see no reason to condemn you. I’m Damien.

I know who you are.

He blinks up at them, surprised. He doesn’t exactly try to be much of anyone on campus, let alone a notable name. Perhaps he isn’t as successful as he imagined.

You do?

Yes. You’re the mayor’s son. A legacy. People talk about you often.

Ugh. As he should have guessed, his father’s shadow overtakes him. He sighs and returns pencil to page.

I wish they wouldn’t. I don’t particularly care for being a legacy. I can’t imagine what others have to say is the most kind.

Not always, no. People equate you to him.

Is that why you hesitated?

I wanted to see for myself who you are. You aren’t like him.

You just met me, how could you know that?

In his periphery, he just catches the slight upturn of their mouth.

Well, for one, you don’t want to be. Besides, Damien, I see things about people. I wouldn’t have offered for you to sit if I saw anything bad.

See?

Notice. I get feelings, but I mostly just pay attention. You can know all you need to just by watching and listening.

Also, I sit behind you in class. You’re smarter than he could ever be.

He barks a laugh before he can stop it, and they’re both asked to either be quiet or leave. Their own laughter, warm but quiet giggles, solidifies their decision to leave, but he can’t bring himself to mind.

He learns their name, their major, their preferences. They like to sit out on the quad in the last of the warm September sunshine, sunning like a cat in the grass. They like to drink tea with their pastries and tease him over his black coffee without a single grain of sugar. They like to read and write and debate him over nothing, eyes shining when he grins over the challenge.

Mostly, they like to sit and watch.

In the dining hall, in the library, in the quad. In the local diner and the park. They sit and just take it all in, dark, curious eyes tracking the people around them.

They aren’t a gossip. They don’t tell him anything he couldn’t have guessed on his own, snippets of conversation he, himself, heard; still, he knows they hear and see more than they let on.

They only have a few favorite places to take a lunch, mostly because each has plenty of options his friend is actually capable of eating. It’s a solemn decision, one that neither of them take lightly, and a deviation from a choice can spell a ruined afternoon at the very least-- they don’t handle changes in plans very well.

Still, one very stormy day, they change course to the diner instead of the cafe, and not five yards away do they hear a crash. A branch, caught up by the wind, knocked through the front window.

They eye him another time before handing over their handkerchief. “Keep it,” they insist, eyes quite serious, and so he pockets it. What else could he do? At the very least, it will assuage his friend’s worries for him to keep it a day or so.

The next day, he can’t stop sneezing, feverish yet chilled. It’s difficult to rise from his bed, limbs aching and weak. He sleeps through most of it, and that handkerchief on his bedside table is a godsend when he can’t make it to his drawer for a fresh one.

Damien’s normally very good at keeping up with his coursework, but between his family and his other classes, a paper falls to the wayside. As he sits over it by candlelight in his dorm, the deadline of eight o’clock looming, his friend puts a hand on his shoulder. “You have time,” they say, eyes too dark in the golden light. “No need to rush.”

He has less than twelve hours to complete five pages, and while their belief in his abilities is quite flattering, he just shakes his head. The next morning, however, his professor pushes the due date to the following week, rushing out in a hurry past the messenger-- he can’t very well miss his child being born for a few papers to grade.

They know things before he ever could, and he can’t say it’s just good guesswork, just observation, not when he knows what Celine can do if she really wants to. He doesn’t mention it to them, unsure if they even think it’s something preternatural, but he does wonder.

Whether or not it’s a gift beyond humanity’s capabilities, he finds himself copying their methods. Listening, watching, waiting before he speaks or comes to a conclusion. It doesn’t come quite so easily-- he’s unfortunately inherited a bit of a temper, growing up so with Celine and his father-- but it does a decent amount in tempering his impulses.

It comes in quite handy at their first college party.

Damien’s partaken of alcohol before, though not to excess; his friend, on the other hand, looks to the sea of bottles with fascination, though little temptation. “Should I?” They ask over the crash of voices, wincing a bit and covering their ears as a portion rises in a cheer. “I haven’t-- but that’s what college parties are known for, right?”

“If you want to.” He shrugs, looking over the array. Strong stuff, befitting the raucous nature of the party. “I’d start small, though. It doesn’t taste good-- maybe some with that mix over there?”

It looks similar to Celine’s drink, the last time he saw her-- cloudy citrus with the sharp sting of alcohol-- but it isn’t frosty, and the scent of clover comes from it, honey swirled in the mix.

His friend seems to enjoy it well enough, a smile on their lips after their first tentative sip, and he thinks nothing more of it. It’s a party, and he tries to have fun.

For the most part, he succeeds, properly speaking to other people his age about topics that aren’t politics, for once, hopefully proving the ones who find him a carbon copy of his father wrong. He partakes of his own drinks, though few enough to leave a simple, pleasant warmth in his stomach; there’s no need to overindulge.

Maybe it’s his own intuition, or perhaps a touch of some gift he can’t explain, or even simple concern for his friend, but he goes to find them the moment the urge hits him, something twisting in his gut. He must find them, and soon, but where in the whole sea of bodies could they be?

He takes a breath, and looks, and listens.

Whispers about someone drinking too much. Snickers about lightweights, eyes cutting toward the back of the party.

People give away everything when they aren’t paying attention.

Surely, he finds them on a couch towards the back. Their posture is too relaxed, the tapping movements of their fingers too languid and clumsy on the cushions. When he comes around to their front, noting another empty cup in hand, their eyes are glassy, distant. It takes them some time to properly focus their eyes to look at him, and when they do, they give him a smile-- big, not like their small, secretive one.

“Damien!”

Oh, yes, they’re drunk. Quite drunk. He sighs, though his irritation can’t override his fondness. “I imagine you’ve had a few too many, my friend.”

“They were… quite good,” they confess, attempting and failing to sit up properly. “I didn’t think… I think they put in a lot. On accident.”

“Perhaps.” He cuts his eyes back to those students serving drinks. Not a one of them looks back in their direction, but something tells him that’s less due to their responsibilities and more due to avoiding them. As is best, really-- if he finds out who... “You need to get home. Can you walk?”

They can, but only with one of his arms around their waist to keep them upright and stable. He steadfastly ignores any looks or whispers as they step out into the November night.

It’s cold. Not freezing, but cold, and it seems to sharpen his friend up a bit. “Brr. Uh… I’m sorry I… had so many. That we have to go.”

“That’s alright,” he assures them, and it is. “I was about finished. I can only take so much social interaction for one evening.”

“Rich coming from the future mayor,” they laugh, swaying further into his side, though whether it’s out of intoxication, warmth, or humor, he can’t say. It warms him all the same. “But… not for long. You will be, but then… he’ll...”

They stop suddenly, almost pulling him off-balance, and when he looks down, there’s a vague horror in their eyes. Distance that isn’t from alcohol, but in the way they get when… when they know something.

He swallows hard against rising dread, the warmth placed by a chill too deep to be the air around them. “My friend? What is it?”

“You…” They swallow, too, then: “The grass, quick!”

He winds up holding them up, out of their own sick, looking away lest the sight bring up his sick, and rubbing their back. “Thanks for the warning. Are you alright?”

“Uh-huh.” They spit and groan, leaning back on their heels for a moment. “I think… that got it out of me. Thanks.”

“It’s no trouble. Let’s get you home-- I’d rather the wrath of your mother seeing you drunk than the wrath of her for letting you freeze.”

Whatever they saw, whatever they were about to say before they were sick across the frosty grass, haunts him, though. It haunts him, until one day it’s tucked into the back of his mind, and then it’s too late to be of any help at all.

--------

Bee’s Knees

--

50ml/2oz gin

20ml/1oz honey syrup

10ml/2 barspoons lemon juice

lemon peel, to garnish

Add all ingredients to a shaker with ice and shake until well-chilled. Strain into chilled cocktail glass and garnish.

Simple and even nondescript at a glance, but with more depth than expected. Sweet, only a bit tart, and floral-- like spring sunshine.

And then…

They grow up.

And then…

They grow apart.

And then…

They have a party.

And then…

Everything changes. Forever.

[joshuasumter]

Across the Netflix-Verse: Joshua Sumter Meets She-Ra and the Princesses of Power 

SYNOPSIS: When creative and autistic Joshua Sumter teams up with orphan-turned-heroine/warrior princess Adora, Etheria will never be the same! But together, they just might save the universe. Think you know the story of She-Ra and the Princesses of Power? Well, think again because Etheria will never be the same as Joshua Sumter stars (and returns) in his latest self-insert, Isekai-turned-multiversal, retelling epic that not only flips the script on the hit animated reboot from DreamWorks and Netflix by ND Stevenson to reimagine and change the events of the show...but also spans across the wild, the wacky, the scary, the magical, the mythical, and sometimes very mature worlds and universes of the Netflix-verse, a multiverse featuring your fan-favorite Netflix shows and movies. Based on the hit animated She-Ra and the Princesses of Power series and in the tradition of Space Jam (1996), it's an Isekai-turned-multiversal, dimension-spanning epic that reimagines the narrative of the show -- with the inclusion of Joshua Sumter as an unlikely, live-action hero who finds himself on a strange, animated world and beyond that is familiar but slightly changed.

Life was carefree for creative and autistic Joshua Sumter (That would be me) of Earth (Our universe, the real world) as he was enjoying yet another typical, relaxing day and cozy life eating food, reading media tie-in books and comic books, and writing fanfics. Everything was perfectly normal...that is, until he lands smack-dab into the war-torn planet that is oddly familiar but yet slightly changed. It is the planet of Etheria, the world and universe of the hit animated reboot series from Netflix and DreamWorks She-Ra and the Princesses of Power, where an ongoing, full-blown war ensues and rages on between the princess-led Rebellion that wants to maintain peace and harmony for all of Etheria and the dreaded Horde that wants to conquer the planet in the name of its leader, Hordak.

At first, Joshua believes under the impression that everything going on is all just a dream of himself being in a reinterpretation of the rebooted TV series from the 80s as a full-fledged guest star, taking the first steps of his very own Isekai adventure when he bumps into Adora, Glimmer, and Bow, hangs out with them, and unknowingly accepting the full invitation to join in on the fray as a feature of his dream (All the way from Season 1 to the Battle of Bright Moon). But Joshua's enthusiasm falls flat when he quickly gets wrapped up in some very serious stuff during that experience, letting his newly found zany antics and madcap-style wits guide his ideas and actions enough to make Joshua fully consider the oddest possibility...that this ISN'T a dream after all.

Not only that, but the soul and consciousness of the previous She-Ra, Mara, resides in Joshua's body, along with all her past memories, allowing her to control his body as the two experienced many battles as possible in order to increase their combined strength. This transferal-like link allows both Joshua and Mara to communicate with each other, as if living in their shared mind, providing guidance and advice. When Mara manifests in the physical world as a corporeal spirit in her ethereal appearance and bluish glow, only Joshua can see her. Despite this unexpected turn of events, Joshua and Mara formed a cooperative relationship, much to Joshua's little shock and ire of Mara living inside him*. (*Similar to the term 'Emblems' from Fire Emblem: Engage; the Soul transferal from Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles; the Soul Link System from Dragon Ball FighterZ; Jaden/Yubel's relationship from Yu-Gi-Oh! GX; Byleth and Sothis from Fire Emblem: Three Houses; and Yuma and Astral's friendship from Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal in the trope of "Symbiotic Possession", "Fusion Dance", "Sharing A Body", and "Romantic Fusion")

Now forced into a whole, new universe, surrounded by characters he now considers his new Etheria pals, having the soul of Mara living inside him, and being completely aware that he's starring in his very own self-insert retelling of the animated show while helping Adora, Glimmer, Bow, and more allies like Perfuma, Mermista, Frosta, Sea Hawk, Spinnerella, and Netossa in their fight against the Horde, Joshua decides to flip the script on the She-Ra and the Princesses of Power series to make some changes around here his own way by reimaging and changing events of the show that'll help turn things around for the future of Etheria and Adora's destiny...sort of.

As Joshua continues to influence the characters with his twisted action makajalaka of awesomeness in the form of a hard-hitting baseball bat that acts as his holy-sword-like weapon, his sense of imagination, his Official Handbook-level knowledge and more while imagining his fights in the style of the Persona 4 Arena games, Adora and her friends can't help wonder about what they make of Joshua and his bizarre, other-worldly perspective and shenanigans, not to mention how he fights like an entirely different person, courtesy of Mara's soul possessing him.

Along the way, Joshua later gets into numerous comedic adventures across the Netflix-Verse, a shared crossover multiverse of worlds and universes based on and inspired by your favorite Netflix shows and movies.

But when things in Etheria got a little too serious and with the help of the soul and consciousness of Mara, along with the animated worlds of the Netflix-Verse, will Joshua be able to beat the odds by letting loose the looniness and wreaking some hilarious mayhem in the process to help his new Etheria pals Adora, Glimmer, Bow, the Princess Alliance, and the Rebellion out of a real jam by saving the world his own way from a much, bigger threat than the Horde?

Based on and inspired by the She-Ra and the Princesses of Power series by ND Stevenson and featuring the worlds of your favorite Netflix shows and movies such as "The Cuphead Show", "Green Eggs and Ham", "The Dragon Prince", "Tiger & Bunny", "We Can Be Heroes", "Lego Elves: Secrets of Elvendale", "The Sea Beast", "Maya and the Three", "Nimona", "Jurassic World: Camp Cretaceous", "Dragon Age: Absolution" and much more, be prepared for a block-busting, hard-partying, mind-blowing, world-hopping, fourth-wall-breaking, live-action/animation mayhem in this self-inserting tale that spans both our world and theirs. DISCLAIMER: In the tradition and style of Space Jam (1996) meets Epic (2013), the Kingdom Hearts series, Gwenpool, and other Isekai tropes, Across the Netflix-Verse: Joshua Sumter Meets She-Ra and the Princesses of Power basically reimagines and changes the narrative of the show (Seasons 1-5), but with the inclusion of, yours truly, Joshua Sumter, and new twists and different outcomes inspired by some of the She-Ra and the Princess of Power fan fictions than the ones in the actual show for "anyone who wants to enjoy an entirely, different story with some few changes".

The Netflix-Verse, as the name implies, is a shared multiverse of worlds and universes that are mostly based on, inspired by, and from your favorite Netflix shows and movies in the tradition of Powerpuff Girls: Super Smash-Up!, Sonic Prime, Space Jam: A New Legacy, and the Kingdom Hearts series. The main hub of the Netflix-Verse is a vast expanse of space between that resembles Netflix's home menu, composed and surrounded by posters that served as gateways to these worlds. From the wild, the wacky, the scary to the magical, the mythical, the epic and sometimes very mature, it's a dimension-spanning epic into these Netflix-based worlds.

Inspiration and allusions from...

Space Jam (1996) and Space Jam: A New Legacy (2021) – Just like how Michael Jordan and Lebron James are live-action superstars entering a spectacular animated world and teaming up with the Looney Tunes in their two movies, Joshua Sumter (That would be me) does the same as he gets forced into the animated world of She-Ra and the Princesses of Power to help Adora and her friends in the princess-led Rebellion in their ongoing war against the dreaded Horde.

Epic (2013) – M.K. is a teenager finds herself transported to a deep forest setting where a battle between the forces of good and evil is taking place. In similarity, Joshua is a grown, autistic young man who finds himself transported to a war-torn planet based on a rebooted TV series from the 80s.

Kanji Tatsumi’s storyline from Persona 4: Arena – In Persona 4: Arena, Kanji Tatsumi still thinks that everything in the entire P1-Grand Prix tournament is all a dream until he eventually finds out it is in fact not, so when Joshua first lands smack-dab in Etheria, he believes that his experience in Etheria from Season 1 to the Battle of Bright Moon is all a reinterpretation/Isekai adventure dream, that is…until he eventually later finds out that it’s not a dream when he reaches the first episode of She-Ra and the Princesses of Power’s Season 2.

Kingdom Hearts and PowerPuff Girls: Super Smash-Up! – The Kingdom Hearts franchise features Disney-based worlds and how Sora embarks on an epic journey across the multiverse and encounters Disney and Final Fantasy characters in their respective worlds and helps them while the Powerpuff Girls: Super Smash-Up! comic crossover mini-series is a dimension-spanning epic inspired by Batman: The Brave and the Bold where Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup visit other Cartoon Network universes. In Across the Netflix-Verse: Joshua Sumter Meets She-Ra and the Princesses of Power, Joshua did the same thing - this time, it features worlds and universes that are mostly based on and inspired by your favorite Netflix shows and movies. In actuality, the She-Ra and the Princesses of Power world Joshua was first isekai-ed into was one of the Netflix-based worlds in the Netflix-Verse, so he then later goes on a world-hopping journey across the Netflix-Verse and encounters main characters in their respective worlds like The Cuphead Show, Green Eggs and Ham, The Dragon Prince, Tiger & Bunny, We Can Be Heroes, Lego Elves: Secrets of Elvendale, The Sea Beast, Maya and the Three, Jurassic World Camp Cretaceous, Nimona, Firedrake: The Silver Dragon, Puss in Boots: The Last Wish, and Dragon Age Absolution and helps them out.

[imsorryimlate]

follow-up post in reference to this post

jack’s whole thing with propriety and keeping up appearances is actually something that’s been on my mind for a long time, because i think it says a lot about him, the way he’s “self-regulating” or whatever one should call it, he’s constantly aware of when other people might possibly see or infer something questionable. he comes across as quite paranoid, i’d say, like he has something to hide. i know that a lot of people, myself included, headcanon him as gay/bi and autistic, both of which he’d probably be masking and hiding.

@the-malfunctioning-somnambulist made a great post about van helsing representing a sort of foreign freedom (broadly speaking), and in it quotes stoker’s letter to whitman where he describes himself as “a conservative in a conservative country”, and i think perhaps that applies to jack as well.

which moves me from analysis to headcanon. i headcanon that jack was a lot less constrained in amsterdam. there’s the way that the continental side of western europe in general tend to represent freedom and open-mindedness (ironically at times), and then there’s also the fact that homosexuality was legal in the netherlands at the time. and jack was a student in amsterdam, and a lot of people tend to grow more conservative as they get older; while jack isn’t old in canon, he’s still older than he would have been in amsterdam.

also, the way van helsing is incredibly informal with jack and does things like barging into his room unannounced (several times) and pull at his ear, etc., could be read as a fun little contrast between a tight-laced person and a free-spirited person being besties, but it could also hint that this is how they used to act around each other, and that jack’s behaviour in his native, conservative england is different from what his behaviour was like in free-spirited amsterdam. van helsing barging all over jack’s boundaries doesn’t necessarily have to signal carelessness, but could just be what van helsing is used to their relationship being like.

and so basically i headcanon that jack was a lot more free-spirited himself when he was in amsterdam, and that amsterdam and van helsing continue to represent a sort of freedom for him – which nonetheless was temporary. at least he believed so at the time but who knows what happens post-canon.

(it is also something i explore a bit in my helward university days fic, which i should probably write in my author’s note before someone accuses me of straying too far from jack’s canon characterisation)

[tommybowefuneralattendee]

✏️❤️‼️ for the writing asks! -baflegacy

✏️"what are your current WIPs about?"

well. so the actives (not including the ones i've just got concepts for and haven't started) are as follows

untitled ianthony smut i've been working on since i joined the fandom. like four thousand words of build up before they even kiss. halfwheeze classic. admittedly daddy kink

untitled amangela mutual pining - angela pov, a lil angsty but not too much, you like her so much it makes you look stupid core

untitled amangela mutual pining 2: electric boogaloo - amanda pov, somewhat confident!angela, a lot of flirting

bad miracle - nintendogs fic, werewolf!chosen - basically runs through chosen grounding himself through the five senses in times where being an autistic werewolf in a loud, bright, populated place isn't always fun

untitled vague nintendogs fic that i've just barely gotten out of concept mode and into writing mode - there's an altar involved

one for me, one for you - nintendogs smut continuation of can't you see that i am not afraid? with kink exploration and negotiation and lots of fluff

a summer night's full moon - shaymien smut. like fully, this is shaymien smut. nothing further your honor

untitled shaymien fluff that might have smut eventually who knows - shaymien working on having an adult conversation <3

untitled spommy continuation in the universe of trust fall. also smut. plot light

maybe we can sleep in - nintendogs fluff with light angst, also possibly going to become smut because what else am i doing

untitled nintendogs fic about gender exploration

i did not realize that five of my eleven open wips were nintendogs until having to go through them. woagh

❤️"what are your favorite scenes from your WIPs?"

surprising no one, i really love writing hurt/comfort, especially light on the hurt and heavy on the comfort. what love did then love does now, not to me not if it's you, love is an action, etc etc.

‼️"what has stayed consistent across all drafts?"

so. one of my personal flaws. is that i do not draft. rather, i suppose i do, but just a single draft. and i work with it til it's done. i never do rewrites or a lot of removals. i'll move stuff around in the document, but i've never been someone who can do the multiple draft, rewrite the whole thing, finished in parts kind of thing. i go from draft 1 directly to line editing. so, like. all of my fics stay consistent across all drafts. because there's only one draft lmao

[yeetspace]

This gets the idea across pretty succinctly right? Like the whole point of it is that there's this desperate clinging need to argue for a better candidate. The problem being that it's argued for no matter the given circumstances. To the extent where it's just this blind thought of "It is not to the standards that I've set So it's the absolute worst (while completely obscuring their view from the thing that's screaming loudly about how it's going to kill everyone if it gets power, Cuz it's really loud and scary and we don't want to think about that right now because we have more important things to make you feel bad about)".

Because like it feels like they just fully attached all of their emotion to their politics and so genuinely cannot comprehend the idea that just because you vote for someone doesn't mean you 100% agree with them on every ideological stance possible and in fact, when Red actively says they'll make things worse, it doesn't really matter if there's the prospect the blue is arbitrarily deciding to lie and will too, but the problem is there's that hypothetical situation and then there's what's happening in reality which is the other candidate SAYING so. We can magically what if about what if it did happen but we also know it won't be a question if if the other option happens. With one it's a speculation of what if we've been lying to the entire time with the other one it's what if people just don't fucking care. Cuz like as much as you want it to be the case you voting third party doesn't do fucking anything especially when we just saw what happen with the other guy it's almost as if weirdly enough the government's corrupt it's almost as if like when it tells you it's giving you a lifeline you should usually never fucking grab it cuz it's usually electrified or something like that.

It's it's almost as if when the government says you should trust them about something and how it will definitely work this time you should never do that ever in any capacity if you want to keep fucking breathing? A thing that's been the case since the establishment of organized government as it exists now? Like and I know for a fact that it's because I'm autistic I feel is the least thought processes come much more basic to me, like obviously someone with an exorbitant amount of power is at some point going to do something shitty with it you don't get that WITHOUT being shitty to begin with. Humans are all inherently equal we're just just meat and shapes and people want to make a fucking problem about that to the extent of making up politics in the first place to fucking murder people over it like that's all this is we're just a bunch of fucking meat-shapes with electricity on a fucking DUST BALL Basically playing The universe's most extreme game of kite flying because we're just being fucking swung around in 14 centrifugal directions away from like 14 other pulling forces that are all individually just incrementally larger forces of absolute and abject destruction. Like how the fuck did we get here to make politics a thing when there are plants on this plant that make you see colors that you can't even comprehend otherwise? How did we fucking get here

[whenthechickencry]

Umineko EP4. Replay Part 1

Certainly not her genes, Kryie, also Rudolf sees through Kyrie in that even when she's talking friendly about Asumu she's burning with jealousy. Certainly was never a healthy dynamic in any case.

The talk of miracles here is so interesting and I will probably talk about it in more detail later. Rika's belief in a miracle is what allowed her to break through her dead-end fate. Ange's belief in a miracle is what is slowly destroying her life. I don't think either framing is entirely right or wrong, and unlike others, I don't see Umineko as a sort of response/rebuttal to Higurashi as much as something that expands on its themes, but still... it's really interesting to think about.

You can tell that R07 has been in kind of damage control mode for Beatrice since the end of ep3 lol. He really needs to hammer it isn't as black and white as you might think and she isn't just an evil monster who tricked Battler for fun.

This is a really funny scene too, by the way.

Battler's is, as Beato says, in a lot better state than last time shit like this happened. I think he got the general gist that Beato wasn't acting 100% and that there is more to what is going on than meets the eye.

Ange's right. Battler is starting to try and seriously understand Beatrice's heart but that's opposed to Ange's purposes, which are for him to completely trample on her heart as soon as possible so she can get Battler back.

You can tell Ane's view of others is really warped by now, it's basically a less over-the-top version of Erika. Sure if you never trust anyone you will never get tricked but you will never build genuine relations either...

This is in complete opposition to how Satoko entered the school in GouSotsu, so I guess the schools work differently across... universes or whatever it is you would call this.

Well... considering the events of this chapter where she continuously gets attempted to get murdered by her family I can't really blame her for strongarming Ange's family....

The game is pretty clear the abuse didn't take long to start.... it's easy to take a more sympathetic reading of Eva later but it is clear she bears responsibility for attempting to take care of a child she was in no way emotionally capable of doing at the time.

Ha.... the way Maria got mocked at her school but she didn't get it and saw it as genuine praise really makes me think she has autism... I remember at school laughing along at jokes I didn't get until I finally got that the joke was disparaging me. The game doesn't show this as an entirely negative thing, though... after all she is able to create 1s from 0s. Also, I am not disparaging Ange in any way but it shows the level of her isolation that the closest image to best friend she can conjure in her head is the girl she hung out with once a year on a family conference.

I have never heard of enchilada cheesecakes before and now I want to try them out.

....uh huh Rosa....

It's no surprise Ange latched on to the diary.... she does the same magic Maria does towards Rosa to Rudolf. "He sometimes came home at my birthday so he loved me a lot" aka he couldn't be bothered to even be at my birthday usually.

Haha.... this scene is so sad to read.... Rosa is constantly embarrassed of Maria even in his idealized version of the scene.

Huh... I wonder if this kind of bullying is common for autistic children? This is exactly word for word what was done to me in school.

This is also a common thing for abused people to think, I used to think I had to stay in abusive relationships because if I didn't someone else would get abused. I am sometimes kind of in awe about how R07 can accurately represent many kinds of situations.

It's not really sustainable in the long term for Maria, though. She can pretend she isn't sad and that she's fine all she wants but in the end, she chose the Golden Land over living. You can't exactly blame Maria for her thinking like this, though, she's just a 9-year-old making the best of an awful situation.

In other words, "I am glad I can neglect my daughter now that she has a stuffed toy I bought at a supermarket to keep her company instead of me"

Rosa, you set way too many fucking rules for someone that can't even be bothered to get home.

Maria knows perfectly that her mom considers her an embarrassment, huh.....

Man, Ange is so fucking depressed.... almost every line she says has a hint of extreme sadness behind it....

He uh.... didn't ask that Maria.... you can really tell she's extremely lonely.

Okonogi shows up and immediately wants Ange to do something that would kill her, lmfao.

Okonogi hits the mark right on the head but mixes up "Yasu" and "Eva" which is pretty interesting!

Of course, the one who actually had that ring was Yasu and not Kinzo at the time, so Okonogi's theory came from false assumptions.

I had.... completely forgotten that Okonogi of all people was the one to introduce the concept that without love, it can't be seen... haha I was very shocked here. Okonogi is also pretty much 100% right here, esp wrt Ange being unequipped to find the truth as she is.

An impressive resume would be a shame if you would get beaten and tortured by a nine-year-old girl.

Ange's already making hints about the fact it's really a suicide plan more than anything, Beatrice and Ange parallels are bigger later on but the fact they both had elaborate suicide plans with Rokkenjima is interesting to me...

[notmuchtoconceal]

"Ask Friend" here. If you're wondering why I haven't said anything in a while, it's because I'm actually taking your advice and pacing myself. I've actually taken your advice a lot and learned a lot from you. You did well to change me for the better. And you did more for me in a handful of interactions than most people who wanted me to change did in a lifetime. I'm not joking. This isn't a trap. I'm done with traps. I don't need them anymore.

If you're wondering why I seem to be such a formless shapeshifter of a person whose kindness (and even frustration) comes across as insecure or possibly a trap, it's mainly because I read your content, and because performance doesn't naturally translate the same way as meaningful verbal communication does, so I try to match the strange performances and whiplash you make. This isn't an insult, by the way. It's an observation that we tend to mirror each other, and that if you scan through your own content, you'll notice that one moment you'll be saying something profoundly beautiful and empathetic and the next you'll be suggesting that perhaps you are a sociopath and that it's for your best interests. If I could offer you one criticism (not coming from a place of malice) it's that you acknowledge that you are seven different men, yet accuse me of doing the same. I am no longer fishing for a specific kind of reaction from you. I do not want your pity. I do not want your dominance. I simply want to talk, and be listened to. I became greedily obsessed with you and had no idea how to handle this for a moment, because I had never had someone who really *listened* before. But now I've become sober, and in doing so, become more self-actualized than I've ever been. How could I not love you?

Whatever you are, be it sociopath or not, be it a dozen men or just one, you are exactly who you need to be. And for the record, I don't think you are a sociopath. You've come to the realization that self-love is not selfless--not through cold, utilitarian ideology, but through experience and self-reflection. And I've met real sociopaths. I've read enough to know you aren't one of them. Even if you were, why would you want to confine yourself to such a category, anyway. If you think of yourself as something, you're more likely to become it, I suppose. Perception shapes reality.

Anyway.

When I say you've done more to fix me than anyone else possibly has, I mean it. You were able to cure me of a sickness that has long since haunted me because you spoke through my medium. I escaped through writing because I wanted to escape body language, facial expressions, vocal inflections. I didn't understand them. I wanted people to be simpler, more universally understood. It stems from my own autistic tendencies and was nurtured into being when I grew more alienated from people over time. "Couldn't people just speak plainly?" How do you think Language Demon was born?

Writing is actually very reductionist if you think about it. All of the subtleties of oral speech are erased and a blank canvas is made. All of those pesky subtleties can be imagined by the reader as whatever is most convenient and appropriate for the occasion. I don't have to consciously put my eyebrow at the exact 31.765-whatever degree angle needed to convey that specific sort of anger. Instead, I simply write about anger and you do my work for me. You imagine the eyebrow tilted at the exact angle it needs to be.

I apologize for projecting myself onto you from a single photo. I was practicing is all. I was practicing recognizing subtleties. I should not have used you in that way. Forgive me. Forgive me without pitying me. We are equals.

I suppose the lesson learned here is that we are all carrying a unique sort of pain within ourselves and that we assume that the cure for pain is this universal blanket of Good and Love and Doing Right, when in actuality the cure may be a ridiculously complicated jigsaw piece that only fits that one person's specific kind of pain and it can be used nowhere else. That's not to say that Good and its principles are simply meaningless aphorisms, but they are rarely the exact cure--simply, they are the guiding path needed to more easily find that jigsaw piece. This was how I got more out of you, a stranger, than I did from years with loving people setting me on the path of Good. But you still have to want Good if you want to be fixed.

I won't bombard you like I did before. I know it's hard to believe, but in a short time you've awakened a tectonic shift in me. You've completely altered the way I look at the world. Usually when someone gets fixed so suddenly, there's a healthy amount of skepticism involved--hence the jigsaw analogy.

You really did more than you possibly could have imagined, and you did it by being true to yourself and by being harshly honest with me in a way I was craving but could never get out of people. You have no idea how frustrating it's been to feel like I'm the only truly honest person out there, and the relief it was to discover you. When you found me, I was beginning to turn away from my own honesty because I assumed people in general just wanted dishonesty. How very, very wrong I was.

I wish, whenever you speak ill of yourself (and this is not you, but likely a combination of one of your personas and/or an imperfect reflection of yourself through this medium and through performance--but I digress), that there is some way I could be as useful to you as you were to me, which is why it pains me so much when you imply that I'm not able to give you anything of true value or substance or that you've heard it before. For someone like me, I feel as though this is quite literally impossible, even when I reflect on the vapid self-help Good I've been spoonfed by the countless hordes who've tried to cure me.

But I have hope, because after all, when I first interacted with you, I drew assumptions about you that were wrong and were projections, and perhaps the same can be said about how you think I am. There are simply conclusions you have made about me that, just like the conclusions I once made about you, couldn't be further from the truth. You even thought I was an ex-collaborator of yours, after all. But there's not a person on earth who can say that they truly understand another human being with perfect clarity.

Anyway, I just wanted to take a moment to let you know you're beautiful. That's all.

Your note of woundedness, there's no need to worry. I'll forgive you, of course. I assume you're responding to that dallop of sludgy pearls which leaked out of the gaping hole in my queue a few nights ago.

I'd written that as a first response to -- maybe your third or fourth ask, so it was representative of a more unmade mindset. I cut and pasted it into a draft and some time later added the draft to my queue. Mostly because I didn't care to casually scroll past my own broiling rage, but still felt I wanted the text saved in case I could recycle it. I think I sent it to the top of the queue on accident, as my screen is prone to lag. It posted one night when it was the next thing and I happened to be out and distracted.

This happens with my queue enough, or has been happening, coming off a prolonged state of emotional dysregulation, but I suppose one part of me does, at all times, know what I'm up to and will account to take care of things later if I slip up. Being with my ex-collaborator, it was like -- his accusations flew so fast, I had to really clamp down to convince myself I'm secretly not some master strategist, but oh what's the use?

I am a master strategist. I am, at all times, weaving invisible webs of chance and fate circling to ensnare you. You lie in wait, eager to find yourself encumbered in my charms, my anguishes, my delights.

The truth is, I've found you indispensable. I've been quite fortunate over these last few months to be gifted with a handful of kind and soulful correspondents who've responded to my work -- at different degrees of comfort and consciousness -- who've spoken honestly and given me the space to express and explore myself during a trying time.

Briefly, I'd like to thank @mishnayos for his serenity, his placidity, his endurance; the quality of rippling like a still pond when I clunk stones into him. Every day I dream of pinning him beneath my earthy socks and watching him succumb to bliss as my cock engorges with blood in my briefs. @obedientdesires for reigniting a flame of tantric oblivion in me with a spark of youthful vivacity, and for otherwise having an intellect cold and stainless as a surgical scalpel when he isn't being mewling and puppyish and rolling around in his own piss. @redneck1305 for just being a total bro, bro. it is so weird, one day he's just telling me things, and it's like trust sneaks up on me and i think he's my friend. i'm not sure how it happened, man. it was sorta magical, and i think he deserves a fondle. @alphadose for being one of the most disarmingly polite and well-rounded individuals to ever interface with me as a gregarious sadist. I feel such love emanating from him, I want to zip him into a bag and beat him raw and bloody. His such an understated warmth, tenderness and sense of duty and attention, I feel honored in his presence in a way which is sometimes unsettling, but always alluring. @kinkbuck for having a brain like a steel lattice on which vermin may be roped, writhing and crucified, for hours, days, indefinite time as incalculable as an ever resurging dialing of exquisite torment. @pethion for being such a responsive gentleman, good listener and affable submissive, so full of light. @athleticbrutality2 for being a spaz. @nation-of-bros for his integrity, his prolificity and shamelessness. @flyoverkushtaka for all the good times.

Yet, as you've said likewise, though I've only known you a short time and our every interaction is publicly documented, there's something we share in common which was mutually revelatory. That we possessed not only complementary sympathies, but tactics, inclinations -- and that you bore such a stark if superficial resemblance to the my ex-collaborator, and likewise had so much in common with him strategically, that I could not only dispatch you so succinctly, but also have you listen in a way which I couldn't him -- it displays not only both our growth, but restores my faith in the broader aptitude of human communication, or at least the reality of interpersonal connection. My ex-friend, I knew his anguish so well, it was easy for him to lead me back into places I'd long thought I'd outgrown, but an addict truly is an addict for life -- whatever his addiction may be -- and relapse is always an inevitability if one lets it become one.

The day you sent me this ask, I was thinking to myself --

The primary point of similarly between you and my ex-collaborator is you both have a strategy of gradually introducing more and more entropy into a closed system by gradually escalating and complicating contact.

What I mean by this is the tendency to make rapid assumptions, then elaborate upon them before the messages can be received, or consent to discourse even granted. It can feel like conversations rapidly descend into series of hostile takeovers, then corrode into slowdowns, freezes, graphical failure, before breaking apart into glitchy messes.

This has its origins in neurosis, so its oftentimes difficult to parse the degree to which its conscious or intentional, but I suppose very few human beings -- if any -- are ever fully conscious of their intentions, usually having multiple at once, many of which conflict.

When I speak ill of myself, mostly I'm attacking what I feel is the imprint the ex-friend left in me. The arterial crustings of his sludge which cling to my subtle nerves and brain. This juvenile, insulated moron's achingly reductionistic projections -- and yet I still can't hate him, though I know he's ultimately the sole and remaining architect of his own misery.

When I was a younger man, I used to delight in putting out cigarettes on my arms and hands. Girls would often ask me to stop and make a big boo hoo; softboys would look at me as if on the verge of weeping.

Truthfully, I realized I caused myself more pain by avoiding pain, and I proved this every time I burnt myself. The moment before the sizzle -- the anticipation, the awareness I going to be burned -- the dread of it was far worse than the release, the pain itself, for it was so light, so quick, over before it started. It seemed absolutely insane to me that anyone could be so delicate as to regard this as problematic behavior. I wondered if they were all so mislead by the tragedy of medical glamours, they were made to see horrors which weren't there -- so well trained to happy families, they missed all the ones that were -- or if they unproblematically had different standards and no clue. I often feel like so-called "normal people" exist in a different dimension, for mostly they've meshed their trauma projections so well into a kind of generalized positivity-based pablum, half the time they don't know what they feel, displacing their feelings onto others, or some spasm of the servable zeitgeist.

Anyway, I'm well-aware of all the ways I'm deeply unhappy, and equally aware of all the ways I am. Most truthfully can't say either.

I am one person, though I realize the source of my misery and longstanding alienation comes down to a bias -- largely I believe as a consequence of over-identifying with one's social role -- of considering one part of me more "real" or "representative" than others.

The pretense not of having to put on a performance -- for all culture is performance -- but of having to put on a hackneyed and insincere one. Of feeling like you need to erase your own feelings, for you need to play to a mindset which is fundamentally alienating; one you quietly suspect is far from normal, in fact a degeneration brought about the constructed social traps made to make men easy to churn as choked-down slurry.

You could say -- personification remains the problem, for personification, like language, is largely an unreality we use to make things approximate to us. The idea of turning a process -- of nature or of the psyche -- into a form of representational humanity makes an abstract idea accessible, but introduces distortions. Yet also -- these distortions, on an emotional level, are closer to hues, contrasts, textures -- they reveal things in ways which form like stalagmites, drip by drip over expanses of time, until a formation has arisen from nothing by many minute splatters. There are things which can only be revealed -- in the twitch of an eye, the corner of a smile, the way the head tilts away, a tell-tell twitching of the jaw.

I've felt things on my own face I only knew were real, for I'd seen them in the things I'd written. I've had moments where I'd feel my face move, then remember a scene I wrote six or eight months ago, and realized I'd undergone a real and concrete change in myself that started with seeing it and writing it, or writing it then seeing it. Sometimes the word makes the image, sometimes the image makes the word.

There are certain things -- which can become untrue by the way we represent them. I used to joke that I had "multiple personalities". The irony was lost on many. Quietly, it fed into my own fear of losing control. I believe in the state of nature, before institutional Crissendom largely convinced us otherwise, consciousness was more nakedly pluralistic as nature is a lush cornucopia, though in modern industrial societies, a person will only appear "fragmented" if certain breakdowns in self-awareness or capacity for personal control occur.

Poetry is useful, on a pragmatic social level, for how it can depict simultaneity by highlighting the literal as a vehicle for the symbolic, while in conventional narratives, the notion of the symbolic is often dismissed as unintentional or an overthought, for it's always "just a story".

Some people are almost aghast, it seems --

if you tell them: "I want you think."

"I want this to be beautiful."

To me, it's always been the most preposterous and yet commonplace form of entitlement and pretention that something should flatter the taste of the tasteless by being "only" entertainment.

It says I Am Human Garbage. You Should Be Human Garbage, too.

Or Else.

Most of my life -- because I was trying to please people I had no business pleasing, for they were unpleasable by design; having largely given up on bettering themselves, and settling on making things worse for anyone they could wrangle some meager power over -- I had a tendency to conceal and erase my mistakes with a self-effacing intensity which came about from seeing myself as fundamentally ugly and unworthy of affection. This made things worse. Running from my mistakes ensured I kept making them. I needed to confront everything that happened to me. I needed to take responsibility for what mas my fault, and claim righteous indignation against anyone who wrongly trespassed against me.

Once I started to make mistakes -- not only allow them, but revel in them -- I began to see a lot were forms of unconscious rebellion, unstated preferences begging to be explored; indications of my real wants and real self I'd dismissed as arbitrary, for they were not the most optimal or rational. After so many years of thinking there was one way to play, and I would always be tired and miserable, for there was no way to make it end, I finally internalized -- there is a way I am, and want to be, and I don't owe anyone an explanation, and I don't need anyone to give me permission.

People think they need to give me permission.

People think they owe me an explanation.

There are so many people -- sitting there before me in terror, rationalizing themselves for an audience who isn't me, yet who they persecute themselves with through me -- all the people who've ever talked down to them, contradicted them, poisoned them -- I am the screen.

It's all so clear. What people are afraid of is inside them.

But they don't look inside. They look out to others.

Try looking at every single mistake you've ever made. See how much of it you really wanted. See if you can find out what you were really after.

Might shock yourself how clueless you are, bro.

[ateez-ficrecs]

Unrealistic

Author: Eyela

Ship(s): Yeosang/Mingi

Chapter(s): 1/1

Rating: Teen and Up

Warnings: No Warnings Apply

Tags: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Space, Misunderstandings, Mistaken Identity, Androids, but not really, Getting Together

Summary:

When the spaceship Destiny gains two crewmembers, it’s natural that Mingi, as the technical maintenance officer, takes the new android under his wing and starts giving him jobs around the ship. He’s not quite sure what model ‘Yeosang’ is, but he’s clearly very advanced, with a high-quality humanoid body, a large database of information, and high enough artificial intelligence to hold full conversations, even if he’s still a little stilted and awkward sometimes. He almost makes a convincing human. Too convincing, in fact – before long, Mingi realises with panic that he’s starting to catch feelings for a computer who can’t possibly reciprocate them. Meanwhile, Kang Yeosang, regular human with a lot of random knowledge, a good brain for maths, and a tendency to stare blankly into space, is enjoying all their time spent in the engine room together, and quietly hoping his crush on Mingi might just be mutual.

Notes: i have genuinely no idea how, because i don't think i followed the author on twitter before, but i came across the first prompt for this fic there and have been dying to read it since! it's just as cute as the first tweet implied.

the author chose not to tag because, yeah, it's never mentioned by name, but yeosang is autistic (or autistic-coded i guess) and it's very important for the plot in the cutest and most natural of ways.