#with positive traits and things that are good about myself

[angelnumber27]

I think that I am going to get better

[charliespringverse]

i think it should be possible to scream without making any noise or disturbing anyone or inviting any questions . just sometimes . as a treat .

[kindacreepy-kindaugly]

I mean I'm not goin back to him I'm not(!!!) but at this point I got no idea why

Literally just screaming into the fucking void

He already broke me to the point where all the shit he's said are my only core beliefs n even if I try to shut down the voice in my head repeatin it all I still believe every damn word

So no matter how long I cut him off for it's always there just the same. But no one else can always be there to make it go away. W/ him I at least go from a total waste of oxygen to the one thing I'll ever be any good for. It's an upgrade I can almost live with.

So what's the point? What do I or anyone gain from me stayin away?

I've been tryin so fucking hard n it's just not getting any easier. I don't know where to put all this fucking self loathing, I can't keep pouring it onto other people. I always need to keep so damn much inside n some of it still spills out n that's already bordering on too much. I don't wanna be a burden. I know everyone is, to some extent, but not like this. Not all the time. Plus they have something to give in return, I only have things no one else wants, just Val's happy to take em if offered.

I still feel the pull all the fucking time. It's like the chain he used to have around my neck but I know he's not doin the pulling, he doesn't care if he has me or not anymore. It's all me now. I'm the one who keeps wanting to go back. The rational part of me is screaming no cause I know he'll just hurt me n find new ways to cut even deeper but. What's left that he hasn't already done?

Maybe this time he'll make the feelings n the noise go away. Maybe this time he'll make it all quiet.

[bamsara]

If given the motivation I would ramble more about Trod, specifically Tyren and how he's my little dude but also a character who's behavior I've based on being a victim of obsession and idolization myself and how it's very cathartic to write a character exhibiting all the traits, both good and bad I've experienced in the Lamb's position and then knowing exactly how his story ends

That and some Narinder rambles and how Lamb is more comfortable with him than a sweet dog that surely shows more respect for them (idolization that does not see them as a person)

edit: nevermind I did end up rambling. Some TROD spoilers

its great I love this stupid dog and his scheming ways and writing just *why* he's doing what he's doing with genuine belief it's to better protect what and who he loves without actaully taking into account the subject of his affection's feelings on the whole matter. He would never hurt the lamb physically but clearly that three eyed cat is nothing but stress for them (and is he wrong? is Narinder not a source of stress? We are not light in the 'enemies' part of the friends to enemies to friends to lovers part of the trope)

Though the difference between Narinder and Tyren, the rehabilitation and the corruption, although all entitlement, is agency.

Narinder often touts himself as uncaring and hostile to the Lamb and is still angry from the betrayal, as they are, but their agency is still considered even in anger.

In the Fox chapter where Narinder wishes to sacrifice Grekimar and Tyren, Lamb refuses. They argue about it and Lamb stands their ground, Narinder is unhappy about it but does not go behind their back and sacrifice cultists anyway when he very well could.

After reuniting after the fight when Leshy is revived, Narinder and Lamb argues heavily over the subject of whether or not Narinder is allowed to kill Leshy, someone who harmed both him AND the Lamb severely, and even though he's bitter about it, Narinder acknowledges the Lamb was not given a choice prior and will sacrifice his own revenge and comfort so the Lamb can have their agency returned, at least a little bit.

^^^ This one is a complicated one because between both characters, neither killing the bishops nor keeping them alive would result in both characters getting what they want, with reasonable desires for it (wanting to have choice again, wanting revenge on their tormentors, ect)

so Narinder essentially sacrifices his comfort for the Lamb, someone who is constantly sacrificing pieces of themselves and sanity to keep everything in peace

It works the otherway around as well: Narinder demanding talismans and God Tears and Relics from the Lamb and they agree, not because they're required to do what he says but because that's their friend, and they trust him enough to help him with whatever he's doing

(and back to the argument where the refusal to sacrifice two followers was in exchange for some of their heart, Narinder refuses and breaks the deal off immediatly even though the Lamb was willing. The Lamb is obviously more important than whatever goal he had in mind, essentially scrapping his partnership with the Fox and method to gain power because he didn't want his usurper to be weakened. and other things.)

I won't talk about EVERY instance of this because this is already a long post, but overtime the two are forming communication, compromise, and even in anger, there is a respect there that puts them on the same level as equals.

Tyren does not really fall into that.

Tyren would never, and I mean NEVER hurt the Lamb physically. He would never yell at them, never be angry with them, never be upset with them, because he does not see them enough as a person to feel those things around them. And if the Lamb does disagree with him or make him upset, he will simply....disregard their current feelings on the situation and do what he thinks is best for him and them, even if it goes directly against their wishes.

And unlike Narinder, he would do it behind their back to stay in their good graces.

Tyren does care for the Lamb. Genuinely. He did long before that necklace was around his neck. He was already a little obsessed before the loyalty necklace was on him, it just gave him a slight edge.

He respects them but also doesn't. He takes their rejection at the party in stride and is completely unphased by it, completely understanding, but also plots to kill someone the Lamb called a 'friend' because the three-eyed hermit is clearly stressing them out and it makes no sense as to why they're crusading with him, or spending time with him when he's been nothing but a murderer and a blight.

I think a good summary of all this ramble is that when the Lamb tells Narinder to leave Tyren alone, Narinder goes 'whatever i fucking hate you and this stupid cult anyways. die forever' but does what they ask, while Lamb tells Tyren to please leave Narinder alone, and Tyren goes 'sure! :) anything for you my lamb' and digs up a corpse and drops it's mashed remains outside of the cat's hut with a fake letter from the Lamb saying it's 'breakfast'.

Narinder and Tyren are both very selfish, but in different ways

None of this probably makes sense

It is also 6AM

[flowercrowncrip]

Therapy today wasn’t emotional, but was one of the biggest shifts in perspective I think I’ve had so far.

We were talking about what I’ve learned from the experiences of worsening disability, and I mentioned a lot of positive personality traits I have now that are stronger than when I could still walk.

I listed things like my ability to return to be in the present when previously I’d always been anxious about the future. And my ability find joy and gratitude in seemingly small things. My ability to be able to take one day at a time in the face of potentially life changing medical things. And to be able to trust myself to navigate difficult times.

And then I realised that those things aren’t “personality traits” that magically appeared one day, they’re all skills that I developed due in part to the choices I made. Yes the circumstances I was in were a catalyst, and there was a degree of luck and privilege involved, but there was no guarantee that I’d come out with these skills.

I learned how to ground myself in nature, how to recognise when I needed a break and chose to make time for that.

I chose to continue to look for the good in things around me and to reject the voices saying I was being weird or cringey for getting emotional over mundane things.

I leaned in to focusing on the present and learned how to not try and catastrophise over my health. It wasn’t instantaneous and took time and effort and practice.

And I have never ever given myself even the slightest bit of credit for any of that before.

[lu-is-not-ok]

A Narcissistic reading of Hong Lu

Yup, I'm actually doing this.

To lay down some facts first: I have NPD, alongside a bunch of other things that coalesce into a nuclear concoction strong enough to kill every dark empath in a five mile radius. If I find you ableisting it up, I give myself the permission to smite you. This is a threat and a warning.

Now, let's talk about Hong Lu. Because as it turns out, he might just be the most difficult literacy check in Limbus Company according to what I've seen.

I could just say "I'm a narcissist and Hong Lu is just like me fr fr so he's a narcissist too" and end the post, but honestly, where's the fun in that? There are, legitimately, things I want to yap about, so I'm going to yap about them, and no chucklefucks can stop me.

So, to start this off, let's make one thing clear.

Hong Lu is not only a good actor, but also a skilled liar. The way he navigates conversations and the methods he uses are just as important to analyze as the actual words he says, if not more so. In fact, I'd go as far as to say that trying to understand him based Only on what he says and not how he uses the things he says would result in an understanding that's not only incomplete, but potentially outright wrong.

Now, this isn't really tied to why I think Hong Lu could be very reasonably read as having NPD, at least not directly. Narcissists aren't inherently evil liar manipulators, and if that's what you take away from this post, that's more of a you problem (and you can go ahead and block me considering I'm one of the evil liar manipulator narcissists according to you).

However, there is a reason why I have to bring it up. And it's because almost all of Hong Lu's narcissistic traits become a lot more obvious once you look at the exact ways he takes control of conversations.

With that out of the way, what exactly are we even looking for?

NPD, in my experience, primarily affects one's sense of self-worth and self-esteem. I personally found that the analogy of a pendulum makes the most sense to me - a narcissist's sense of self-worth can swing between massive highs and massive lows, almost never staying in a middle "balanced" position, with even the tiniest things being able to throw it to one side or another.

The ways this can present outwardly are. Quite frankly, way too fucking many to count. But there are some common threads we can keep in mind:

High sensitivity to criticism

Need for an external source of validation

Tendency to seek out ways to make oneself feel more special, important, or powerful

So, does Hong Lu fit those criteria?

Well. Yeah. This post wouldn't exist if he didn't.

Let's talk about the first point, high sensitivity to criticism. And, immediately, I would like everyone to remember Hell's Chicken, specifically the scene where Meursault begins to verbally roast his team's dish, and in the process laying down a verbal smackdown on everyone involved. That scene ended like this.

Curious, isn't it? The moment Meursault was about to start criticising Hong Lu, he just jumps in and distracts Meursault with a change of topic - something even Dante's narration points out.

Mind you, this isn't an isolated event. This is just the most obvious example of Hong Lu exhibiting this kind of behavior.

Don't believe me? Just look at these.

These are all examples of Hong Lu either backpedaling, changing the subject, or otherwise trying to avoid the acknowledgement of something that criticizes his status, thought process, or (in the last example) which would reveal an emotional vulnerability.

This is a fairly consistent pattern for him, and that's not even getting into the fact that the line he says when hovering over him before a skill check he has a Very Low chance at succeeding in has him suddenly try to excuse himself and leave.

Hong Lu is absolutely highly sensitive to criticism, it's just that his primary emotional reactions aren't ones we're privy to. Instead, what we get to see is how he acts to try and minimize the impact of those criticisms, if not outright find ways to never let them leave someone's mouth in the first place.

Next up - need for external validation.

This one doesn't have as many examples as the previous point, as Hong Lu is a generally closed off person who keeps a certain level of distance from most other Sinners. However, that doesn't mean I don't have any.

One such example comes from Canto 4, where soon after acting out his part in the play, Hong Lu seeks validation from Yi Sang.

Then there's this moment in Canto 6, where Hong Lu, once again, seeks validation for something he's done.

And then there's also these lines from Hong Lu's various Identities.

Aaaand then there's these base Identity voice lines, which, if you ask me, feel a bit like fishing for compliments.

This point is a lot harder to say is a definitive one, mainly due to Hong Lu's more closed off projected personality. That being said, the fact that one can find examples of it despite that is pretty notable.

And for the final one - trying to make oneself feel more special, important, or powerful.

This is one that's a bit harder to provide exact examples for, as again, Hong Lu isn't someone who talks about how he feels often, and when he does it's not always exactly trustworthy. He's not like Rodya, who while still putting on a facade, is pretty open and easy to read about how she actually feels.

But, there's still some non-mutually exclusive interpretations I want to posit here. Two, in fact.

One - I believe that for Hong Lu, the thing he sees as power is control.

See, avoiding criticism isn't the only time Hong Lu steers conversations. In fact, it's something he does All The Time. He's often the one asking questions to get the group moving, trying to gather information that might be relevant to him, and generally taking over the direction a conversation is going in. Chances are, if Hong Lu speaks up, it's likely to alter the conversation he joins in noticeable ways.

This, I think, is one of the ways Hong Lu makes himself feel more powerful. After all, it's not that hard to guess from what little bits of his background we have that Hong Lu lacked agency for most of his life. So, wouldn't it make sense for him that having that agency, that being able to be socially in control, would be the exact kind of thing that would boost his self-esteem?

In fact, the only times we see him rendered completely speechless, seemingly stripped of that confidence in conversations he usually exhibits, are in Canto 7 - specifically in scenes where he's Not In Control of what the others are talking about. Those scenes being when the other Sinners start shit-talking Xichun in front of him, and when Xichun actively tries to bother Hong Lu by alluding to the way he's been treated back at home.

Extremely confident until something external happens that utterly strips him of that confidence... sounds familiar, doesn't it?

Then, there's the second interpretation.

See, with NPD, there are two ways a narcissist can try to make themself feel more deserving of attention. One is the one most probably think of when they think about narcissists - setting out to fulfill extremely high goals to feel amazing when one reached them and then feeling utterly crushed in the case one doesn't. This would be someone like Rodya.

However, there is also another way, one which I personally have much more experience with - to undersell. To set extremely low expectations, so that it's as hard as possible to fail reaching them, and to feel way better upon surpassing them than one would with higher, more "regular" expectations.

This, to me, is exactly the kind of narcissist Hong Lu is. Think about it. He's constantly putting out this image of an extremely sheltered person that barely understands the outside world, with notable moments where it's made clear he's Just Making Shit Up at points. Wouldn't making one seem unable to do anything, only to then proceed to do things you've led people to not expect of you, make it feel like you're much more exceptional than you really are?

The underselling goes the other way too. When the other Sinners point out something odd about Hong Lu in a more positive way, he's often quick to point out how it's Nothing compared to what his Family expected of him. Wouldn't that make one feel exceptional, to make it seem like whatever effort you're putting in to do well is but a fraction of what else you can do? That you don't even have to try to be able to be special?

...So, there. That's all the analysis and interpretation I find important to do to get my point across.

Just to make it clear, I don't think that the only thing wrong with Hong Lu is the narcissism. There's definitely a lot more shit going on in that head of his. But, I'll be honest, the NPD reading felt so obvious to me that it genuinely took me by surprise that other people don't see it.

Though... maybe I shouldn't be shocked. Some fuckers out there still think Faust is a narcissist when she's literally just autistic.

[ahsxual]

Hello lovely!! I have read all of your stories to do with Matthew Lillard and OMFG I love them sooooo I thought to request one myself. :D

I was thinking a Stu Macher x Fem!Reader who is Billy younger or twin sister (idk it’s up to you on that darling) who he is very positive of and has told Stu not to ever think about getting with her, one day Stu goes over there to hang out with Billy but had gone out with Sydney so Y/N answered the door and just tells him come in and they can watch a movie as they waited for Bill to come home, one thing leads to another and they end up in Y/N’s bedroom…..

Thank you for reading this request and I hope you are having a great Day/Night!

Don't Tell My Brother About Us

Warnings: +18 content, Cocky Stu, dirty talk, fingering, cunnilingus

Word Count: 2,7k

A/N: Tysm for requesting this, dear anon! I loved your idea and I really hope you like this❣️I also appreciate the fact that you like my writing 🥺🤗 I'm actually proud of this fic, I'm just gonna say that ;)

You knew Stu Macher from high school, since he was your twin brother's bestfriend. You even tried to join his friend group after a while since they all seemed so nice and fun, yet your attempts were declined by your sibling, for much to your chagrin, because Stu was constantly bothering your brother by making flirty jokes whenever you were with them, according to Billy. Even though you didn't like the fact that your brother wanted to keep you away from Stu, you couldn't help but feel delighted to acknowledge the real reason behind it.

Stu became your crush from the moment you met him, as his energetic, extroverted and cocky personality traits never ceased to charm you. He was incredibly fun to be with and as you hated feeling bored, you thought that would be impossible if you ever stayed with Stu. Those thoughts were obviously put aside the moment Billy noticed how you and Stu looked at each other. Billy had never seen you as amused and happy with a guy as you were with Stu, your eyes so bright that he was convinced the words sadness and boredom were no longer known to you. However, that wasn't enough to convince Billy that Stu was good for you, and that was the reason you drifted away from him: although he made your days brighter and vice-versa, Billy didn't lose his overprotective sibling attitude, always keeping an eye on his "sweet and innocent" sister.

.............................................................................................................................

"I'm going out with Sidney." Billy told you, while you were reading a romance book on the sofa about a serial killer who fell in love with one of his victims. When your brother said he was going out on a date with his girlfriend, you simply looked at him with a raised eyebrow, as if you didn't believe there were any genuine romantic intentions in what he had just said. "What?" he sounded annoyed by your judgmental gaze.

"Hm I don't know, you don't seem very excited about it. It looks like you don't even have true feelings for the girl." your tone was confident and assertive, since you knew your twin brother all too well. He just rolled his eyes at your comment, not wanting to admit you were right.

"Just cut it out, ok? As if you know what real love feels like, anyway." annoyance was present in his voice as he searched for his house keys.

"As if my lovely brother allows me to know what real love feels like." you simply replied, not moving your eyes from your current favorite book. Although you weren't looking at him, you could tell Billy's gaze on you could kill if you stared back.

"Y/N, we've talk about this. I'm not gonna let you be with Stu, you got that? I know him better than you, so listen to me for once and stop being such a brat." at this, it was your turn to roll your eyes, before getting up from the couch and heading to your room.

"Whatever Billy, enjoy your lovely date." you intentionally made an annoying tone at the word "lovely", which made Billy even more pissed by your behavior.

"I'll be back in two hours. Don't even think about inviting Stu over. I'm dead serious, Y/N." and with a final warning followed by a death stare, he closed the door to go out with his girlfriend that he pretended to be in love with for whatever reason.

You never understood why Billy was so overprotective over you when it came to Stu. Did he know something you didn't? Was Stu somehow dangerous or would he break your heart into a million pieces? Even if that was the main reason, honestly you didn't mind finding out for yourself if it meant you could be with Stu sexually or even romantically.

No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't concentrate on your novel after that conversation with your brother. Those questions couldn't leave your mind either, so you decided to use your free time to take care of yourself and get a proper treatment. You went to the bathroom to turn on the hot water, wanting nothing more than to relax after a long day of school. The water felt incredible on your skin, making you moan at the peaceful feeling. After a few minutes, you looked down at your legs and thought you'd better shave them as well as your pubic hair, since you wanted your skin to feel clean and smooth. Once you had finished, you put on a face mask before applying a body cream to your body. It felt so refreshing, as your worries and personal problems temporarily disappeared and were replaced by the feeling of pretending to be treated like a princess. You had so much fun on taking care of yourself and helping you raise your self-esteem that you almost didn't hear the doorbell ring. Why is Billy back already? And why did he ring the doorbell if you saw him take his house keys before he left? You quickly put on your cutest pajamas, since you were taking your princess treatment seriously, and ran to the door. You knew it was dangerous to open the door without checking who it was first, however you were expecting Billy, so you didn't pay much attention to it.

"Stu? What are you doing here?" you frowned as your eyes widened in disbelief, immediately feeling your cheeks turn red, because Stu was seeing you in your pajamas for the first time. Perhaps you should have checked who it was before opening the door so confidently, you noted mentally.

"Oh hey, Y/N! I didn't expect you to open the door. Not that I mind, you look really cute. Where's your brother?" you felt his big blue eyes on you, clearly checking you out as he looked you up and down. He also complimented you as if it was the most natural thing for him to do, probably having no idea of how hysterical it made you feel inside. After that, he walked past you as if he felt he had the right to enter your house without waiting for your permission.

"Uh... Billy didn't tell you? He left with Sid like half an hour ago. You should come back later or call him instead if you want to talk to him." you tried to say the right words so that Stu would get the message that he had to leave, since you didn't want to upset your brother and go against his word. However, deep down, if you listened to your needs, you wanted nothing more than to stay with Stu and enjoy his company, allowing yourself to get to know him better without being pressured into making small talk with him.

"Nahh it's cool, I can wait here. Wanna watch a movie? There's this crazy horror movie that came out recently and I really wanna watch it! Since Billy is not here, we could watch it together, what do you say?" his enthusiasm and energy were something you'd never seen before, and you found it very ironic and funny that he was the complete opposite of Billy, yet they managed to have such a deep and strong friendship. You were left speechless, knowing that your plan to convince Stu to leave your house before your brother got back went down the drain.

"Yeah, sure. Sounds like a plan." you answered, trying not to sound too excited about the idea of watching a movie with him and finally being able to be close to him and having some time alone with him as well.

"That's my girl! Where's the popcorn?" he asked casually, as he headed towards the pantry since he already knew yours and Billy's house like the back of his hand. What was he trying to do?? Drive you crazy with his constant compliments and flirting? Without needing your help, he picked a big bowl of popcorn that you had bought for yourself a few days ago and sat down on the sofa, using the tv remote to put on the movie he had chosen all by himself without giving you a chance to suggest any other ideas.

You stood paralyzed in the middle of the living room, still not processing that Stu was right in front of you waiting for you to join him... in your own house... alone.

"Are you gonna sit here with me or do I have to lift you up and make you sit on my lap instead?" his eyes were on you again, while an evident smirk was plastered on his handsome face. Oh God, he's definitely trying to drive you insane. It was then that you managed to move from where you were standing, walking slowly towards him. As soon as you sat down by his side, trying to keep some distance between the two of you so you could control yourself, you decided to speak.

"Look, Stu. I'd really enjoy to watch a movie with you, but you know damn well that if Billy finds us, he will-" as soon as you mentioned your brother's name, Stu immediately rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically.

"Come on Y/N, don't be like that! Billy is not here and if we want to be with each other, why should I stay away from you? It's not like I'm gonna jump on you and force you to have sex with me or something. I mean, unless you want me to." he laughed as if the whole thing was a joke to him, like he didn't understand the risks and the trouble you could both get into. He never took anything seriously and sometimes you wished you could be more like him. You blushed instantly at his shameless confession and your heart skipped a beat. Did he just admit he wanted to have sex with you as much as you did? When he saw your face, he started laughing exaggeratedly, obviously proud of himself for leaving you speechless and very shy with just a few words.

"My brother can't know you're here with me. Stu, I'm serious..." you didn't know what to say or how to react. The only thing you knew was that you weren't wearing panties and your pajama shorts were already wet.

"Oh really? Because I bet if I touched you right now, my fingers would be soaked." this time, his face was dead serious, his pupils dilated with lust and his intense eyes not leaving yours for even a second.

Your breathing was heavy by now, not wanting to give Stu the satisfaction of discovering how much you craved him. Without any warning, Stu grabbed your thigh and pulled you closer to him, surprising you with his unexpected strength. With his free hand, he easily moved the thin fabric of your pajama shorts and touched your bare cunt, proving his suspicions right. His long, slim fingers traced the drenched lips of your pussy, collecting your juices before circling your clit lightly. His teasing made you gasp and moan unintentionally so you bit your lips, forbidding yourself to let any more erotic sounds escape from your throat. He then brought his wet fingers into your vision, showing you how soaked you were for him with so little, as if you didn't already know. You felt extremely embarrassed at the sight displayed in front of you that Stu forced you to see, before a broad smile appeared on his face filled with pride. He eagerly took them into his mouth, moaning and sucking your cum off his fingers like it was the most delicious honey he had ever tasted in his life.

"Holy shit, I didn't know you tasted this good. Looks like I was right! My intuition never fails me, baby. You even shaved for me... looks like you knew this was gonna happen after all." he confessed with a big grin on his lips. You stood there with your legs slightly spread, not knowing whether to kiss him now and make your dreams come true or wait for his next move. Just as you were about to gather the courage to devour him, he was quicker and spoke first. "Now, let's watch this movie before that asshole returns home." and just like that, he pressed the play button and started the movie while eating popcorn as if nothing had happened.

You felt extremely annoyed and mad at him. How could he do this to you, only to stop his teasing and pretend that nothing had happened? How could he have so much self-control? Obviously, you couldn't focus on the movie, so you just enjoyed the sweet taste of the popcorn while trying your best, yet in vain, to extinguish the fire that was lit inside you. Twenty minutes into the movie, there wasn't as much action as you'd expect, which annoyed you and Stu as well. You almost missed how his eyes remained fixed on you, a smirk returning to his face with the intention of putting an end to what he had begun for good. You felt his right arm around you, after he had slowly approached you, as he whispered in you ear.

"I really enjoyed seeing you all frustrated because of me, but I promise you I'm not a selfish guy. I want to see my girl satisfied, even tho I like to tease you a bit. Come here, let me help you finish what I started." he said before getting up from the couch, offering his hand for you to take. You couldn't contain your excitement, so you rolled your eyes at him playfully and smiled excitedly, leading him to your room.

When you got there, he wasted no time and pushed you against the wall while kissing you feverishly, as if he needed to kiss you in order to survive. Your tongues and lips moved against each other as you fought for dominance, saliva spreading all over your chin and lips as he moved to your neck to give you visible love bites. You knew you'd have to cover that up later, but right now you didn't give a damn as you craved his possessive marks on you. You felt his hard cock against your core, rubbing against you to relieve some tension from both of you, and you could tell by its size that he was big. He quickly undressed you completely while he stripped only his shirt, enjoying your desperate look to see him fully naked too.

"Don't worry baby, you'll get to see my cock soon. Wait until it's inside you." he teased once again, before pushing you onto your bed, climbing up and grabbing your thighs close to his. He stared at your body as if it was the first time he'd seen a woman's naked body, as his lips salivated from hunger and desire. "Fuck, I knew you'd be beautiful naked, but nothing prepared me for seeing this gorgeousness all spread and wet for me." before you could react, you felt Stu kissing, sucking and biting your thighs to tease you a little longer, yet he quickly gave up on that idea and pressed his warm tongue against your throbbing clit.

To say that you moaned loudly was an understatement, as you screamed at the contact of his tongue on you while you clung to the soft sheets onto your dear life. He began eating you out like a mad man, alternating between sucking your clit and fucking your needy hole with his long tongue. You could tell he was skilled at oral sex, since it was the best you'd ever received and he made you cum in less than five minutes. Maybe you were ridiculously horny and turned on by him? Undoubtedly, yet his oral sex skills made everything better and much more intense. After that, he didn't stop his assaults on your overstimulated pussy, even if you begged him to. He made you cum a second time, but this time with his long fingers curled deep inside you. You felt like you were in heaven, as he gave you the most intense orgasm you had ever had in your entire life. You moaned like a porn star, unable to contain yourself, before you heard your front door slam shut.

You immediately leaned up on your elbows as you looked at Stu, who had an "oh fuck, we're screwed" expression on his face, accompanied by a contained laugh.

Indeed, you were both definitely screwed.

[elysiansparadise]

hello love! i love your posts so much they're very insightful and actually helped me learn a lot about myself. can you do jupiter in 5th? <:

Hello love, thank you so much for your words. I'm glad they have been helpful for you. 💗

Jupiter in the 5th house

Talented, intelligent and people who are very easy to talk to, as they are seen as warm, kind and sensible by other people. Able to attract attention easily, these natives are people with natural charisma and charm [they may not realize this if Jupiter is retrograde or making tense aspects with Moon, Mercury or Saturn]. Good stage presence and very skilled at creating good impressions on other people. These people can create wonderful things, because once they are in the state of inspiration, great ideas can come out of their minds. They have a strong passion for learning and inquiring, especially about their talents and abilities. They are likely to be notable or popular for some skill, talent, gift, or their people skills. Self-expression is an important avenue for their personal development, they have ingenious ways to express themselves, as well as a firm belief that they always have to be authentic regardless of whether that seems good to other people. These natives like to try new things and explore different forms of expression and entertainment. They have strong self-esteem and will never allow themselves to be made to feel small by other people.

They are very passionate, charming people with a beautiful way of loving. These people have very strong ideals when it comes to relationships. They seek to live an inspiring romance, next to someone who teaches them many things and brings great things to their lives, good humor, romanticism, support, joint values ​​and a positive environment in which they can feel good to be themselves and keep growing. They will not be in relationships with unnecessary drama, superficial ones or ones in which the other person is always complaining and being difficult or uncooperative. They may feel attracted to people who are different from them, whether in background, personality or even of a different nationality. Romancing them is a joyful experience, full of adventure and excitement. These natives can bring new perspectives on life and romance to their partners or even those they usually hang out with. They like to enjoy life and for them this is synonymous with doing what they are passionate about. They are people with multiple hobbies and interests, as well as great creativity and ability to be spontaneous.

They are very attractive people for different reasons, from the shape of their body to the way they carry themselves. There is a mix of confidence, good humor and powerful traits. They tend to quickly captivate others and have that quality to cheer and inspire others with ease. They may have admirers throughout their lives and many people may like them, from physical attraction, romantic attraction or both. They are people who will never do things just "because they have to", they need to be passionate about the subject in question to be able to do or carry out something. Many of them can do things to enjoy the moment, they do not like to drown in the past or overthink the future. They can achieve a lot of success if they mold and work on something related to their talents or hobbies. These natives will activate their luck or feel that things are going better for them when they strengthen their self-esteem and learn to be authentic. They like to do things that keep their inner child happy. They can be seen as pleasant by children and will always seek to treat them cordially. If they decide to have children, they will be happy, spontaneous, intelligent and adventurous, with a tendency to be somewhat playful. Their relationship with their children will be positive and they will be very interested in motherhood/fatherhood and how to improve their dynamic with their children.

-> Go back to the masterlist

[pawberri]

thank you for all the posts you've made, your takes are always so refreshing to hear.

I want to know your thoughts (if it's okay with you, you can also totally ignore this) about all the "men hate" I see online. like I (poc transmasc non-passing) get it, there are genuine societal gender problems. transmisogyny does exist-women face more challenges than men do. but it genuinely hurts when women, especially trans women, think it's funny/quirky to call men trash or say they want all men dead or whatever. idk I just am hoping someone else understands, you know?

There's a lot of nuances to this question. First, I just want to caution against focusing too much on trans girls as the perpetrators of this. A lot of the asks I get from trans men seem to really fixate on trans women as the perpetrators of hard line gender essentialism. I really think trans girls are not the main people we should be focusing on here. If a trans woman is saying this stuff, take the time to analyze her ideology outside of that pithy comment and consider how much trauma and how little power she has in the world. That said, trans women are affected by this kind of ideology just like us, and they rarely have the power to wield it against others in the way cis people can. I know it hurts to feel isolated by your own community, but that kinda gets into my second point.

Part of dealing with this is learning an impulse progressive cishet dude have had to get used to over the decade. Sometimes, "men are trash" or even "kill all men" are not literal phrases. They are things women say when they're in the throes of trauma to vent their frustration. "Men are trash" in particular is generally pretty lighthearted and used to complain when you have a bad date or something. You have to get used to analyzing what someone actually means and airing on the side of empathy. You, as a man, are the one with some amount of systemic power over that woman, so you are the one who needs to prove you are dedicated to not being a misogynist. The same thing happens when my friends say they hate white people. I have to assume they don't hate me given that I'm their friend, but that I still have some of the negative traits of whiteness. I need to care enough to be a good friend by being anti-racist and checking myself on my behavior. I need to be willing to prioritize their comfort over mine. That includes not becoming this meme:

Now that that's established, there ARE times when "all men are evil and should die" is an actual ideology. It's an ideology that hurts tons of minority groups before it hurts the most powerful, but it's also not really great if we assume it only hurts cishet white guys. Following it to its logical conclusion, it just proposes a reversal of oppression dynamics. This gender essentialism is a key part of radical feminism, trans exclusionary or not, but it leaks out of that community to general feminism all the time.

As a young person on Tumblr and Twitter, this deeply affected me. I internalized the idea that you can "just be a girl." It was repeated by some trans girls, but also a LOT of TME people. It was framed as trans inclusive, but it's trans inclusive in the way "political lesbianism" is lesbian positive. It posits gender as a moral choice that is completely up to the individual and unrelated to biology. It's the lazy version of "gender is a social construct." I felt sick and disgusting for wanting to be a boy because tons of well-meaning friends of mine had made it clear that "being a boy" was a choice, and it was the wrong one. "Boy" was a social category that could and should eventually be eradicated. Trans women were conditionally supported because they, in theory, made this future possible. This didn't amount to actual support, of course. It was an ideology mostly spread by afab queer people that mostly benefited afab queer people. There were a few trans girls who spread it, maybe some due to genuinely believing in the ideology and some due to social pressure, but there were also a lot of people straight-up grifting as trans girls who used this thinking to feel powerful in a niche community of teens. Remember fucking Yandere Bitch Club???

At a certain point, I genuinely thought of being a man as an unambiguous moral failing, and I lashed out at out trans men because of it. I wanted to feel powerful, and here was a type of man in my community I could shame and exclude. I still feel bad for making a bunch of ~girls only~ stuff in HS that excluded the one out trans dude at our school, my friend, because he was just a ~binary man~ and leaving him with no friends and no community. I treated transphobia like it wasn't a real oppression on its own and, in doing so, perpetuated transphobia. It happens a lot.

I wasn't really able to accept that there was nuance to the concept of manhood until I read this article while struggling to accept my own gender:

This is a pretty seminal piece of writing. It has its flaws, of course, but the empathy and intersectionality it highlights was life-changing. It also shows that this kind of thinking is largely perpetuated by TME people and hurts trans women greatly.

Gender essentialism is a bad ideology, it's a transphobic, transmisogynist, racist, etc etc ideology. It's literally essential to patriarchy. But it's also very easy to repackage into leftism and easy to dogwhistle. As a result, it's natural to be hesitant when you see someone saying they hate all men, but you have to tread extremely lightly and actually care what they're attempting to express. Because, yeah, men as a social class still hold power over women. They still have reason to fear and hate men.

I'm writing a comic about this stuff, actually, so look out for it in the future..........

[xiki-pupper]

I can understand how Shuro may be a frustrating character to some folks - in fact that is kinda what he is there for, narratively speaking. But it really gives me ick when people just wanna shit on him for "being awful/the worst/an asshole"

The way I see it, the dude is his own different flavor of Autism- repressed, conditioned, awkward, and forced to participate in high society, not to mention the culture clash - and he sees laios just being his own weirdo self and he hates it --- no, thats not it. I honestly don't think he hates laios; i truly believe he hates that Laios gets to be TRUE to himself, and he (shuro) Doesn't get to be.

And it's a feeling I can understand and sympathize and empathize with, as I have been on my own personal journey to try and un-mask and deconstruct and heal myself in a world that has made me feel broken my entire life

People scream "hypocrisy" as shuro sees the same traits between the touden siblings, and is attracted to one whilst hating the other - and yes, I can agree that it's a bit hypocritical, but yall are taking it at face value and not understanding where his feelings are coming from. Shuro doesn't hate laios because he has a special interest, shuro hates that his whole life, he has had to squash himself into a form-fitting box, behave as his family commands, and now he sees laios being free of expectation, just out here being a weirdo, and shuro is possibly feeling that frustrated grief that comes with the late diagnosed autistic situation of "I could have been happy, too, but no, *I* had to be the responsible one"

... at least, that's how I view it. Coz I myself have had those thoughts. And I know, it's NOT a good look for me to be out here admitting that I have felt this way, like for example, maybe I see someone else's struggle with anxiety, whether it's online or in real life, and I have this bitter thought to myself of "yeah, I have anxiety too, but *I* was still forced to be a responsible adult anyway" which makes me momentarily frustrated.

And before anyone jumps my ass about it, NO, I definitely DO NOT think that "if I had to suffer thru it, so should everyone else" that's NOT what I'm saying. But I AM saying that, there is a bitterness, when u see someone who is able to avoid a struggle that you had to endure - that bitterness is NOT thinking that everyone should suffer as I did, but me being bitter that *I had to* at all.

Does that make sense? Coz I really feel like Shuro just gets shit on because people think he's there to interrupt the Yuri and be mean to Laois, and I really feel that he's a whole ass person. And a somewhat melancholic one, at that. He makes me think of how I had to grow up Christian whilst being queer and undiagnosed Audhd my entire life, and I would be very very surprised to hear that a large chunk of dunmeshi fans didn't ALSO grow up this way, feeling broken and stupid and tired, forced to do things the "normal people" way, and then NOT understand how Shuro feels when he sees someone who is in a position to be mostly free of that...

[brooklyncircus]

"Until you..." part. 8.

Hiromi Higuruma x reader.

Until you came into his life, Hiromi Higuruma had occasionally considered making a change within himself—mentally, emotionally, and physically—but he had never taken the idea with the seriousness it truly required.

Until you came along.

And now, here he was, tossing and turning in his bed, the blankets strewn about at his feet and tangled between his legs. Low grumbles and muttered curses escaped him as he rubbed his hands over his face, almost violently, and made a faint, barely perceptible pout.

“I just want to sleep. God, please help me sleep…” he whispered under his breath, attempting once more to close his eyes, only to open them twenty-eight seconds later.

He stared up at the ceiling, once again thinking about how, indeed, your presence had changed so much in him. So much so that he was making a mental list of the things he considered wrong in his life and that he might change.

But part of him thought this whole situation was rather ridiculous and amusing. Who would have thought he’d be planning to alter his routine, his habits, his surroundings, even himself... just because he’d met you?

But it wasn’t a joke, not in the slightest. In fact, he took it as a sign that he should do it. It wasn’t that he thought of you as “ridiculous and amusing.” No.

No.

Not at all. That would be the last thing he’d think. He felt that way about himself—about how he was feeling now and how he wanted to change because of your presence.

Reflecting on it more deeply, something he was reluctant to do out of fear—fear, obviously, of discovering the truth—he realised it was entirely because of you. Thanks to you. Because of you.

For you.

Hiromi had come to realise he had good qualities, clear values, and “positive” things. But putting it all on a scale… What weighed more? His good or bad traits? His good or bad habits? Was he worth it? Could he be “someone important”... to someone?

Could he… be the right man for someone?

For you?

He swallowed and turned over in bed, his charcoal-coloured hair becoming even more dishevelled. He found himself curling up into a small ball, feeling more vulnerable than ever. And, at that moment, two tears escaped his eyes.

“What should I do, God? What do you want me to do?” he thought, his hands covering his eyes, ashamed at the idea of crying again.

And the answer appeared in his mind, clear as the first glimmer of dawn, like a light at the end of a dark tunnel, like a choir of angels in the midst of an infernal storm…

Don’t be afraid. Make the changes you deem necessary. Do it for yourself.

And it was at that moment he opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling—frightened, yet euphoric at the same time. His heart felt as if it were about to leap from his chest. He sat up in bed and then let his legs dangle over the side.

He stood, and with slow but steady steps, turned on the light in the small living room. Rummaging through the papers, he found a small notepad and a pen. “Damn, this is real,” he muttered aloud to himself.

Almost running in his nervousness, he went to the table and sat at the edge. With trembling hands, he wrote:

“Things I want to change about myself.”

And he felt that his world, in that very moment, had indeed changed. He had taken the first step. Thanks to you. Thanks to your existence. He found himself writing item after item, planning everything, and his trembling gradually subsided.

Another list. “Things I want to change about my flat.”

Yet another. “Things I want to change about my office.”

“Things I want to learn.”

“Things I want to do.”

“Things I want to improve in.”

And from the early hours of dawn, where the stars adorned the beautiful night sky, to when the first rays of sunlight began to seep through the windows, Hiromi Higuruma was planning, researching, and making changes.

When he finished, he decided it was finally time to prepare to go to work. And he did so lightly, feeling more at ease with himself. Happy, expectant, with a faint smile.

And until you came into his life, Hiromi Higuruma had occasionally considered making a change within himself—mentally, emotionally, and physically—but he had never taken the idea with the seriousness it truly required.

Until you came along.

[furiousgoldfish]

When you're continually berated and punished for something, even something harmless or normal, it's going to feel like a 'wrong' thing to do, or to be. If your appearance is constantly insulted, it's going to feel like you 'look wrong', if your curiosity is being shut down and attacked, you'll start to perceive your own positive traits as bad, annoying and wrong.

Abusers especially love to punish any 'standing up to them', or 'questioning their intentions', and 'getting rightfully angry at them'. Or, god forbid 'attempt at creating boundaries'. Those will get shut down and punished very fast, and you will instead be 'corrected', and 'told how to think and how to act instead'. So you'll be told that the correct thing to do is to stay silent, not voice your thoughts, not talk back, repress and stuff down your anger and sense of justice indefinitely, don't believe you have any right to deny abusers anything they might want of you. And you always, always have to assume their intentions are what's best for you, for everybody, or at least, each and every of their actions has good reasons behind them.

I was trained to think like this as a child, and thought it was in fact, wrong to ever make a negative assumption about anyone's behaviour; this in fact will make them act bad! I thought the only correct way to behave was to defend and try to rationalize and understand any kind of disgusting behaviour. To the point where even when looking at the fictional characters, or people who had nothing to do with me, I would always attempt to see what had happened to those people and understand their motivationss for doing evil. I even mistakenly thought that this was some depth of character and a way to see nuance and good in everybody, I thought it was a positive trait of mine that I tried to understand everybody. It would later prove to be a vulnerability, since I  never extended the same grace to myself, and nor did anyone else.

Understanding why people do what they do makes sense if you're talking about friends, people who understand you back. It makes sense if you're trying to extend compassion for victims, trying to understand how they felt during what was done to them, and why they reacted in the way they did. It makes sense if you're trying to understand how the world works, and if you want to attempt to make changes. It even makes sense if you look at why abusers do what they do – but in that case, you can't look at their perspective for the answers. What they do is explained perfectly in what it accomplishes.

If constant berating, humiliating and shaming their victims accomplishes to ruin the victim's self esteem, being too scared to stand up to the abuser, struggling to socialize and ending up alone, isolated and more vulnerable to the abuse – then that's exactly what it accomplishes. If abuser's violence, threats, blackmail and manipulation hold the victim hostage, make the victim scared to run, scared to fight back, scared to disobey, scared to put the end to the abuse – thats what it accomplishes. If abusers control of victim's finances, appearance, social life, behaviour, activities and work gains the abuser the ability to control this person's life, and extract as much labour, catering, emotional care, and lack of a fight at violations and pain, that's exactly what it accomplishes!

A person's past doesn't come with instructions to hold someone hostage and hurt them indefinitely, no history will accidentally cause this. It cannot be explained by past experiences, because no past experiences get resolved by controlling another person to one's pleasure and benefit. Nobody is predisposed by their past to engage in intimate violation of another person's well being and integrity, hold it secret, and stop this person from defending themselves or running away. This is learned, calculated, purposeful, intentional and self-aware behaviour (or they wouldn't hide it, would they?).

Why they do what they do lies in what they get out of it. They wouldn't be doing it otherwise. You don't need their history to explain it, because the reasoning is very simple: they want to, they can, and they think they can get away with it. Difficult and painful past can cause a person to isolate themselves, to fear others, to struggle with emotions, trust, panic, triggers, to avoid situations where another thing like that could happen, to struggle with eating, to not be sure how to properly form bonds and connections, how to socialize, how to get close to people, or how to get separated when things get bad. But it doesn't cause a person to blatantly lie, fake, untruthfully promise and manipulate another to believe they're being loved, only to lure them into a hostage situation where they're not allowed to be a person anymore, not allowed to even voice what's happening to them. Nobody does this accidentally or because they 'don't know any better'. They do it with calculation because their intention is to exploit and harm for benefits. And that's not something to defend, in fact once you understand it, you know there is no possible defense in the world.

And to circle back to the beginning of this post, they shut down your curiosity because curiosity results in new knowledge, and any new information you get is a threat to them; curiosity is a powerful and desirable trait to have! Nothing was ever wrong with your appearance, they just prefer if you don't go outside and feel too ashamed of yourself to ever examine whatever is wrong with them; it's to keep you in shame and self doubt so you wouldn't notice how unworthy the abuser is of you. You standing up to others and fighting for what's right is not only a positive trait; it demands courage, integrity and personal strength to do that. And being suspicious when it comes to someone's intentions can save you mountains of trouble and abuse. You have every right to doubt what people are saying, every reason to notice if things are a little too convenient, little too unbelievable. It shows a clear mind and unclouded judgment - which, I can't judge you if you don't have, because I don't have it either.

People with good motivations don't need their actions defended, because the motivations are reflected in their acts, not their words. Anyone who needs you to defend them when they do evil, likely does not deserve it. Anyone who would have a problem with your appearance, curiosity, courage, strength, reasoning and distrust, could only have it because they don't like how you can see trough them, and fight them on their abuse. All of these traits should earn you respect and dignity.

[roseofthewind]

Furina and High-Masking Autism

A lot of people don’t know how to recognize high-masking autism because its presentation challenges many stereotypes about what autistic people are like, but Furina continues to be a perfect example of it.

It should go without saying, but I love Furina as a character and this analysis is in no way putting her down. Autism is an entirely neutral trait that carries through to adulthood, and if you have a strong negative reaction to the idea of a character you like being autistic, you have probably absorbed a lot of misconceptions about autism and have some unconscious prejudice to unpack.

In the paragraphs that follow, I am going to explain several autistic traits and give examples of how Furina displays each trait.

*thinking face on*

1. Autism is, at its core, a difference in the way the brain takes in, processes, and shares information. This can make it challenging to communicate with other people who don’t share this neurotype, but a high-masking autistic person has observed the way other people interact and spent years copying them, figuring out through trial and error how to act to best fit in and get the most positive responses from other people.

Furina’s ascension speech in Act V of the Fontaine Archon Quest, where she first presents herself to the people of Fontaine, is a great example of this observation of others with the goal of masking as well as possible. Furina initially gives the speech as comes naturally to her in a very straightforward and honest manner (also an autistic trait!). After the speech, she realizes that her citizens are responding with hostility to her humility and lack of authoritarianism, so she then plays off the original speech as a ruse and immediately redoes the entire thing more assertively according to the feedback she picked up on.

(Calm down, Furina… Think. Think. What do the people want? How would they imagine a god to speak and act?)

Fontaine AQ Act V, Chinese audio: (link starts video at 3:10:07) https://youtu.be/T-AbXi5bufk?si=eQADAWw6n8Sk0PZE&t=11407

This is the kind of social trial and error that many autistic people do over the course of years so that eventually we can say the “right thing” the first time around, and it’s a testimony to Furina’s skills as an actor that she course-corrects so quickly.

Because of all the constant mental calculations, social situations are usually very tiring for autistic people, even when the social event lines up with their interests. In Clorinde’s Story Quest, Furina has no interest in Navia’s suggestion of pulling an all-nighter to keep playing D&D (I mean, Tabletop Troupe!) and wants to go home and rest.

Furina: Huh!? Oh, um… I’m not sure I’ll have enough energy for that…

Furina has shown other signs of needing to take a break from socializing– for instance, in Lynette’s hangout event quest, Lynette gets tired of all the people at her post-performance reception and goes upstairs to a quieter room to find Furina already there.

Furina offers to give Lynette tips on the best ways to slip away from an event, and Lynette misunderstands at first and isn’t interested in Furina’s advice because she thinks Furina loves everything about the spotlight and doesn’t realize how much they have in common. This goes a long way to show just how well Furina masks her autistic traits!

Furina: I see you’ve escaped the crowds to seek refuge on the second floor. Fame can be overwhelming at first, can’t it? Perhaps you’d benefit from hearing about the experiences of a veteran celebrity such as myself?

Lynette: No thanks, I’m good. Pretty sure this’ll be my first and last time in this situation…

Furina: Hey, at least let me finish! I have top tips on dealing with belligerent reporters, slipping away to hunt down snacks during the intermission…

Lynette: …Tell me everything.

Conversely, when alone, Furina will stay up late reading or doing something else that interests her and will not feel the same need to stop and rest, because when alone, there is no need to expend extra energy worrying about socializing properly.

At the beginning of the Fontinalia Film Festival limited event story, Traveler and Paimon go to Furina’s apartment and she answers the door sounding a bit groggy.

Paimon: Did you just get up, Furina? It’s already past noon, you know…

After Traveler chastises Paimon for being rude, Paimon panics and says something nonsensical about how the weather is so nice in the afternoon and sleeping in is fine, actually, and Furina responds that she’s just a bit tired because she was up late reading:

Furina: I was just up late last night reading some novels…

When focused on an interest, it’s very easy for an autistic person to lose track of time and it can be difficult to break out of the focused state and go to bed. (This is a trait that overlaps significantly with ADHD.)

2. Alexithymia is a difficulty with identifying, processing, and expressing your own emotions, and in extreme cases presents as an almost total lack of emotion. Some degree of alexithymia is common in autistic people.

I believe, in the flashback scene below from Act V of the Fontaine Archon Quest, that Furina genuinely did not realize she was upset and did not realize she was crying, which could be explained by alexithymia.

Fontainian citizen: Are… are you crying?

(If you played this part with the English voice acting and interpreted it differently, try listening to it in Chinese- Furina’s voice sounds completely confident and in control the entire time, and it’s not until the other person points out she’s crying that Furina sounds at all upset.)

Fontaine AQ Act V, Chinese audio: (link starts video at 3:22:00) https://youtu.be/T-AbXi5bufk?si=fl8xSwkQ0rRLFPQU&t=12121

I am a believer that Furina and Focalors were originally the same person, and Focalors is just Furina’s divinity and pre-archonhood memories— so if Furina is autistic, Focalors is autistic.

While talking to Neuvillette, Focalors is extremely matter-of-fact with her explanation of her plan, very matter-of-fact about the suffering of her own human self, and very matter-of-fact about her own impending death. There is no show of emotion— she just tells Neuvillette the facts. This could be related to alexithymia, but regardless it is a very autistic way of communicating that is often misinterpreted as cold and uncaring. In actuality, someone who is willing to sacrifice their own immortality, divine power, and freedom to save other people’s lives cares a great deal, even if the tone of their voice doesn’t reflect it!

Focalors: I mean, did you think I would be the sort to enjoy peaceful repose while Furina suffered?

3. The autistic nervous system takes in a lot of information that a neurotypical person’s would filter out as not being important enough to bother with- this is why autistic people are so much more sensitive to sounds, lights, textures, and any changes in the environment. Too much sensory input can actually feel painful.

There is a documented instance of the Opera Epiclese becoming so loud that Furina was overstimulated enough to yell at everyone to be quiet.

Furthermore, post-Archon Quest, after moving out of the Palais Mermonia and into her own apartment, Furina eats primarily macaroni for an unspecified amount of time— weeks or months on end. After a huge life change, it’s common for an autistic person to want anything they can control to be the same, so their brain has more space to process everything that’s different.

There is no neurotypical explanation for eating the same food over and over to the exclusion of everything else. It makes no sense to someone who doesn’t experience overstimulation and distress at too much change. Case in point, during Furina’s Story Quest, Traveler and Paimon are rather baffled:

Traveler: …Don’t you get sick of macaroni every day?

Furina: Not at all. As long as you have different kinds of sauces in, you can have macaroni and tomato sauce one week, macaroni and bolognese the next…

Notice that Furina says “macaroni and tomato sauce one week,” implying that she’s fine with just that sauce for an entire week, and then uses a different sauce for the next entire week. Still not very much variety!

Paimon: Oh, sounds like you’re really struggling to cope… Traveler: Is it because you have to do all your own cooking now?

Yes, Furina is struggling to cope, but not because she’s incapable of learning how to cook more complex dishes! She’s just too burnt out to want to make or eat a variety of things right now. Furina explains this and Paimon doesn’t believe her, but since we know that Furina’s special dish is an even more extravagant version of La Lettre a Focalors, if Furina is capable of baking at that level, she would certainly be capable of cooking.

4. Stimming, or self-stimulatory behaviors, are repetitive actions that serve to regulate or soothe the nervous system. There are countless behaviors that can be used as stims, but some common ones are rocking back and forth, hand flapping or waving, leg bouncing, skin picking or scratching, rubbing or squeezing a comforting object, dancing, spinning in circles, humming or vocalizing, or listening to the same song on repeat for hours. (It’s worth noting that stimming is not exclusive to autism— especially when stressed neurotypical people do some of these things too. Stimming can also be commonly exhibited by people with ADHD who aren’t autistic, although there are also a significant number of people with both ADHD and autism.)

One of Furina’s idle animations and also her normal attack sequence include behaviors that can be interpreted as stimming. Furina’s idle animation with Surintendante Chevalmarin involves her holding the seahorse up, waving her around, squeezing her tightly and rubbing her face on her head. Chevalmarin is made entirely of water and loves Furina dearly, and so does not mind being cuddled like a stuffed animal.

If you use all four of Furina’s normal attacks, she spins around several times and the final attack culminates with her spinning on a bubble and swinging her sword for AOE. If you use just three of Furina’s normal attacks and do not append any additional actions, Furina spins around again before plunging the tip of her sword into the ground (I do not have a gif of this). Furina also spins around when added to your 4-character party. That’s a lot of spinning, which certainly makes it seem like a preferred stim!

5. I got this far without mentioning special interests because I have so much other evidence that I hardly need to bring it up— but since it’s a much more commonly recognized autistic trait than many of the things I discussed at the beginning, I will include this part of Furina’s teapot dialogue, which does indicate that Furina engages in special interests:

Furina pretty much defines “special interest” with the above statement: it’s something that you’re interested in (to the point that it may feel like an obsession) and you have to know everything about it!

These are just a few examples of autistic traits that Furina exhibits— there are absolutely more. Furina is shown many times to have a high level of near constant anxiety despite being someone who is confident enough to perform on stage. This anxiety could come from other sources, like c-PTSD, but it’s very common for a high-masking autistic person to have chronic anxiety from being hyper-aware of avoiding potential social blunders, repressing stimming to appear more “normal,” and dealing with the increased risk of overstimulation that comes with repressing stimming.

If you made it this far, thanks for reading! Even if you don’t agree with my interpretation of the character, I do genuinely hope you learned something about autism.

[literatureloverx]

Eeeeh!!! Your writing is just! Too good! This should be your full time job. I think my brain has overloaded with request ideas. I'm sorry...I'll try and contain myself. But..if you want to please either of these...

Fyodor and bondage...please let's go there.

Fyodor general relationship headcanons (guys clearly yandere by nature..but how does that look for his darling.)

❤️

Thank you so much for the huge compliment, dear!♥️ I wish I could live off of this.

I’m so sorry it took me so long to write this. Please, please forgive me.♥️

I’d love to hear all your ideas and requests! I’m a slow writer, so it takes me some time to complete posts, but I’ll get to them eventually. Please don’t hesitate to share—though it may take a while, I’ll get there!♥️

I wrote bondage headcanons + a scenario. I’m not trying to be arrogant, but I think it might be some of my best work so far.

Mdni, yandere!Fyodor, wife!reader, sub!reader, dom!Fyodor, bondage, VERY detailed.

Note: You have a huge mirror on top of your canopy bed. Which means: you can see every single filthy thing he’s about to do to you.

The headcanons are under the first cut, the scenario is under the second cut.

Enjoy.♥️

Fyodor & Bondage

"You and me... your eyes wide open, wrists bound to the bed, and my hands marking every inch of your skin as mine."

Headcanons

Fyodor Dostoyevsky's obsession with control isn't simply a trait—it's a reflection of his very nature, an extension of the meticulous mind that crafts every move in his life like a grand game of chess.

In the bedroom, this need for control manifests in ways that blur the line between cruelty and devotion, creating a deeply intimate yet unsettling dynamic between you.

He doesn't tie you up just for the sake of it; every knot, every piece of silk that binds your wrists to the bedposts, is an act of art in itself.

He takes pleasure in the delicate balance between pain and pleasure, understanding how the tension in the bonds heightens your senses.

The way your chest rises and falls with each breath, constrained by the bindings, is a symphony to his ears—a rhythm he orchestrates with masterful precision.

Fyodor's control is not just physical; it's psychological, a deep-seated need to own not just your body but your mind.

He whispers in your ear as he works, his voice a soft, dangerous lullaby that wraps around you, lacing his words with a poison that makes you crave his touch even more.

He knows your thoughts before you do, anticipates your desires, and then dangles them just out of reach until you're nearly frantic with need.

To him, the act of binding you isn't about restraint; it's about possession.

Each time he ties you down, he's reminding you —and himself— that you are his to keep, his to protect, and his to break if he so wishes.

The marks he leaves on your skin are not just evidence of your encounters but symbols of his ownership—a canvas of bruises and bites that declare to the world that you belong to the Fyodor Dostoyevsky and no one else (though he would never allow you to flaunt them to anyone).

In these moments, as you lie there, every inch of you under his control, you understand something about him that no one else does.

He craves beauty, not just in the art he admires or the music he plays, but in the way he manipulates you, his perfect creation.

He takes you apart piece by piece, only to put you back together again, stronger, more bound to him than ever.

And then there's the mirror—his favorite tool of seduction and domination.

Positioned above your shared kingsize bed, it serves as both a reminder and a revelation.

Fyodor loves to make you watch yourself as he works, forcing you to witness the way your body responds to him.

The sight of you in the mirror, bound, gagged, vulnerable, with his hands marking your skin, is a reflection of his power over you.

He enjoys the way your eyes, those beautiful, expressive eyes he refuses to cover, reflect both your submission and your defiance, the internal battle he has mastered like a seasoned conductor.

Fyodor is not a man of brute force; his strength lies in subtlety, in the way he makes you crave the very bondage that holds you down.

It's in the way he can make a single touch linger on your skin like fire, the way he can make you beg for mercy with nothing more than a glance.

His pleasure comes not just from your surrender but from the knowledge that you choose to surrender to him, time and time again.

He has cultivated your dependence on him with a precision that rivals any strategist's plan, making sure that even in your freedom, you're never truly free.

And yet, in this dark dance of power and submission, there is an undeniable tenderness.

Fyodor cherishes you, his fragile, soft, perfect little wife.

Every time he binds you, it's not just about taking control—it's about giving you something as well.

The security of his dominance, the assurance that he knows exactly what you need, even when you don't.

He molds you, not out of cruelty, but out of love, a love so intense it manifests in ways others might find terrifying.

He knows every inch of your body, every weakness, every secret pleasure.

And he uses this knowledge to break you down, only to build you back up again, shaping you into the perfect reflection of his desires.

It's a process that's as intimate as it is intense, a bond that goes beyond mere physical connection.

In Fyodor's eyes, you are more than just his wife—you are his masterpiece, a living, breathing testament to his power, his control, and his love.

And as he watches you, bound and beautiful beneath him, he knows that this is where you belong—by his side, in his arms, forever under his control.

Scenario

Fyodor Dostoyevsky's mastery over you is a delicate art, a carefully crafted symphony where each note resonates with the tension of control and submission.

As Fyodor watches you from above, your body spread before him like an exquisite canvas, his eyes darken with a possessive intensity.

The mirror reflects every angle of your submission, every quiver of anticipation that runs through you. He revels in this moment, savoring the power he holds, not just over your body but your very soul.

He doesn't rush; every movement, every touch, is measured, as if he's composing a piece of music where you are the instrument, and your body, bound and trembling, plays the melody of his desires.

When he binds you, it's not simply to restrict your movement.

No, for Fyodor, the act of bondage is a ritual, a way to elevate your shared experience to something almost sacred.

The babypink silk ropes he uses are chosen with care, soft against your skin, yet firm enough to hold you in place.

The knots he ties are intricate, each one a reflection of his calculated mind, designed to allow just enough movement to keep you on edge, but never enough to break free.

The ropes bite into your flesh, not painfully, but just enough to remind you of your submission to him.

The tension in the ropes mirrors the tension in your body, a taut line that could snap at any moment, but never does, because Fyodor is in control, always.

Your legs are spread wide, ankles secured to the bedposts, leaving you open and vulnerable to him.

He takes his time, his gaze traveling over every inch of you, as if committing the sight to memory. There's something almost clinical about the way he studies you, but there is a dark hunger in his eyes that betrays the possessiveness underneath.

He moves with the grace of a predator, each action calculated, deliberate.

His hands glide down your sides, his touch light and teasing, sending shivers up your spine. He pauses at the curve of your hips, fingers digging in just enough to leave a mark, a small, cruel smile playing on his lips as he watches your reflection flinch at the sharpness.

It's a reminder—every bruise, every bite he leaves on your pale skin is a declaration of ownership, his signature on the masterpiece that is you.

He reaches up, tangling a hand in your hair, soft strands slipping through his fingers like silk. His grip tightens, and he pulls your head back, exposing your neck, your chest, as if offering them up for him to mark.

"So fragile," he murmurs, more to himself than to you, his breath hot against your skin.

There's an odd mix of reverence and cruelty in his tone, as if he's marveling at how easily he could break you, yet relishing the fact that you trust him not to. Not entirely, at least.

Fyodor leans down, his lips brushing over the sensitive skin of your neck, before he bites down hard enough to draw a gasp from you. The sting is sharp, sending a rush of heat straight to your core, and you feel his smirk against your skin.

He pulls back to admire the red mark blooming on your neck, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes.

"Perfect," he says softly, and there's something almost affectionate in his voice, a rare glimpse of the man behind the mask that you know so, so well.

But the softness is fleeting. His hand leaves your hair, trailing down your body, fingers brushing over the marks he's left, over the ropes that hold you in place. He's in no rush, savoring every moment, every reaction he pulls from you.

You feel his hands on your thighs, cool fingers tracing the sensitive skin there, and you can't help the way your breath hitches in anticipation.

His fingers dance over your skin, teasing the sensitive spot there, before moving higher, where you're already wet and aching for him.

He's not even touching you where you need him most, but that's the point, isn't it?

Fyodor revels in your desperation, in the way you squirm under his gaze, every nerve in your body alight with need.

He leans down, his breath hot against your inner thigh, and you shiver at the proximity. But instead of giving you what you crave, he moves away, his lips curling into a knowing smirk.

"Patience, my love," he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, the kind that sends a shiver down your spine.

Fyodor enjoys making you wait, dragging out the anticipation until it's nearly unbearable. He knows exactly what he's doing, knows that with every second he makes you wait, your desire for him only grows.

The mirror above you captures everything—the way your body arches off the bed, the way your lips part in a silent plea, the way your eyes, wide and desperate, lock onto his in the reflection. Fyodor makes sure you see it all, makes sure you understand the full extent of your submission.

You are his, bound and laid bare for his pleasure, and the sight of you like this, helpless and needy, fuels his own arousal.

He's still fully clothed, a stark contrast to your nakedness, and that only heightens the sense of power imbalance. He's in control, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

His hands move to your breasts, fingers tracing the curves, brushing over your nipples until they harden under his touch.

He takes one in his mouth, sucking gently at first, then biting down just hard enough to elicit a gasp from you. The pain mingles with pleasure, sending a jolt straight to your core, and you tug at the ropes instinctively, your body craving more.

But Fyodor isn't done teasing you yet. He lavishes attention on your other breast, leaving a trail of bruises in his wake, each mark a reminder of his possession.

When he finally, finally, moves lower, you're a trembling mess, your body practically vibrating with need.

Without warning, his fingers slide over your slick folds, parting them with ease, and he lets out a low hum of approval. Your body arches in response, a strangled moan escaping your lips.

"So wet for me, already, мышка?" he muses, his tone darkly amused.

His fingers dip inside you, curling just right, and you can't stop the moan that escapes your lips. He pumps them slowly, torturously slow, his thumb circling your clit with just enough pressure to drive you mad.

"Look at yourself," he commands, and your eyes are drawn back to the mirror. The sight is overwhelming—your body laid bare, trembling under his touch, your face flushed with desire, and his reflection, calm, controlled, a stark contrast to your desperation.

He adds another finger, curling them inside you just so, hitting that spot that makes you see stars.

You can feel yourself edging closer and closer to release, but just when you think he'll let you come, he pulls away, leaving you gasping, on the brink but not quite there.

Fyodor's laugh is low, dark, vibrating through you as he watches your frustration build.

"Not yet, my love," he murmurs, his voice like velvet, wrapping around you, suffocating in its intensity.

He watches you, taking in every twitch, every whimper, as you struggle against the bonds, desperate for more. But Fyodor isn't interested in your pleasure now, not entirely.

He's interested in your submission, in the way he can bring you to the edge again and again, only to pull you back, making you beg for him, for his touch, for his mercy.

And he does make you beg. He makes you plead with those beautiful eyes of yours, makes you promise anything, everything, if he'll just let you come.

But your dear husband is disciplined, and he takes his time, drawing out your torture until you're nearly sobbing with need. He loves this—the power he holds over you, the way he can make you lose yourself so completely in him.

It's intoxicating, a heady rush that he will never tire of.

When he finally decides you've had enough, he doesn't give you what you want immediately. He teases you with his length, sliding it against your entrance, rubbing it over your swollen clit, making you writhe beneath him.

"Keep your eyes open," he whispers, his voice a dark, velvety command that sends a thrill of both fear and excitement through you.

Fyodor has no need to raise his voice; the sheer authority laced in his words is enough to ensure your obedience.

"Look at me," he commands. Your eyes flutter open and snap to his, where you see the cold, calculating gleam, before shifting to the mirror.

He wants you to see yourself as he does—beautiful, vulnerable, utterly his.

He shifts, positioning himself between your legs, his hands gripping your hips with a bruising force as he lines himself up with you.

But before he pushes in, he pauses, "I want you to watch," he says, his voice low, commanding, brooking no argument. "Watch how I claim what is mine, моя любимая.”

You nod softly, almost pathetically, and watch as he pushes inside you, slow and deliberate, filling you inch by inch until he's seated deep within you.

He thrusts into you, hard and deep, and you can't hold back the cry that escapes your lips. The stretch, the fullness, is overwhelming, and Fyodor doesn't give you a moment to adjust. The sensation is overwhelming as well, and you cry out, your body straining against the bonds, desperate for more.

“The gag…looks so beautiful on you, love..”~

He pulls back only to slam into you again, setting a brutal pace that has you gasping for breath, your body straining against the ropes that bind you.

The mirror reflects it all—the way your body jerks with each thrust, the way your hands clench and unclench in their bindings, the way your eyes, wide and glassy with pleasure, never leave his.

He sets a slow, torturous pace, drawing out every thrust, making sure you feel every inch of him. The pleasure is almost too much, and yet not enough, and you can't help but whimper, begging him with your eyes to go faster, to let you come. But Fyodor is in no hurry.

He watches you, watches the way your face contorts with pleasure, the way your body responds to him, and he drinks it in, savoring the power he has over you.

Fyodor watches you, his gaze never wavering, taking in every detail, every expression, as he drives you closer and closer to the edge.

"Such a good girl," he murmurs, his voice a harsh whisper as he leans down, his breath hot against your ear.

"Taking me so well, so beautifully."

His praise is laced with possession, a dark undercurrent that only heightens your arousal. You can feel the tension building, the coil tightening in your belly, ready to snap at any moment.

Fyodor's thrusts become more erratic, more desperate, as he nears his own release. He shifts his angle slightly, and suddenly he's hitting that spot inside you with every thrust, driving you wild with pleasure.

You can feel yourself teetering on the brink, so close, so achingly close, and you can't help the way your body arches, seeking more, seeking him.

When he finally does let you come, it's with a rough, punishing thrust that sends you spiraling over the edge.

"Come for me," Fyodor orders, his voice rough with need, and it's all you need to push you over the edge.

Your orgasm crashes through you, violent and overwhelming, your vision going white as wave after wave of pleasure rips through you. The orgasm rips through you, powerful and all-consuming, and he doesn't stop, prolonging your pleasure until you're a trembling, incoherent mess beneath him, tears of sheer ecstasy slipping down your cheeks.

He follows soon after, his release shuddering through him, and he holds you close, his breath hot against your ear as he murmurs soft, possessive words, claiming you all over again. He holds you there, his grip on your hips almost painful, burying himself deep inside you as he spills into you, a low, guttural moan escaping him as he does, grounding himself in the feeling of you wrapped so tightly around him.

For a moment, the world seems to stand still, the only sound the harsh breathing of the two of you, the only movement the slight tremors that still wrack your body.

Then, slowly, Fyodor pulls out, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he takes in the sight of you—utterly spent, bound, marked, and completely his.

He takes his time untying you, his touch surprisingly gentle as he massages your wrists, soothing the marks left by the ropes. He unties you with a tenderness that's almost jarring after the intensity of what you just shared.

He rubs soothing circles into your wrists, kisses the marks he's left on your skin, and pulls you into his arms, pressing soft kisses to your temple, your cheeks, as he murmurs words of praise and affection, a stark contrast to the roughness from before.

In the aftermath, as you lie there in his arms, completely exhausted, you feel a strange sense of contentment wash over you.

Fyodor has pushed you to your limits, taken you apart and put you back together, and in doing so, has only strengthened the bond between you.

You are his, in every sense of the word.

Fyodor may be a man who craves control, but he's not without care. He cherishes you, his fragile little wife, and in these moments, when you're sated and secure in his embrace, you understand the depths of his love for you.

You belong to him, body and soul, and as you drift off to sleep in his arms, you know that there's no place you'd rather be.

Fyodor has claimed you, bound you to him in every way that matters, and you wouldn't change a thing.

In his arms, in his control, you are exactly where you belong.

~

FYODOR’S MASTERLIST => HERE

TO MY OTHER WORKS => HERE

[cvpiddszn]

𝐝𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐮𝐞 | 𝐣.𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬

a/n: part three has been anticipated. i've been extremely busy rn, BUTTTT the last part is here, but i will continue to write for these two because i love them. a masterlist is in the making!!!! also might write for ellie and quinn, nyx and luke, AND kie and nico

summary: birdie finally comes forward about her feelings

warnings: babies, suggestions towards sex, major miscommunication, fluff

word count: 3.1k

series: part one, part two, part three

My head was fucking pounding at the commotion downstairs. I could hear the squeals of the twins, their squeaks making the hangover worse than it already was. I tossed to the other side, feeling the cold sheets beneath my body at the new position. I closed my eyes hoping that sleep would consume me but alas: nothing. I knew the minute I walked down there Blair would know I was upset. With her empath ways which I silently cursed plenty of times, she could always sense when something was wrong but I knew that she wouldn’t say anything unless I told her myself.

I crawled out of the bed, making it and clearing out all of my stuff. We had plenty of guest bedrooms but Ellie and Quinn had sort of claimed this exact one which was closest to baby Amara (which I would’ve thought was a curse waking up to her cries). Closing the doors softly in hopes that I wouldn’t be caught coming out of the guest bedroom.

I nearly slipped into Jack and I’s room without trouble but a small Lowen was blinking at me, “Mommy?” He asked, his head tilted to the side in a question and I closed my eyes sharply praying that this was all some kind of bad dream.

I turned around and opened my eyes, masking my face with one of contentment, one that showed that I was happy with my life. He stood right in front of me, so I leaned forward kissing his forehead, “Yes, baby? What do you need?”

“Why’d you come out of Auntie Ellie and Uncle Quinn’s room?” Lowen’s blue eyes were held with curiosity and sometimes I wished that these boys inherited less traits of Jack. 

I crouched down, placing my hand against his cheek, smiling softly. “I was just making sure the room was ready for them, cleaning up. I saw a hot wheels car that was on the carpet. We wouldn’t want Auntie Ellie slipping and hurting herself on it. Would we?” The lie came easy, and I felt terrible having to lie to my boys but they weren’t old enough to understand. The words that Jack had said played through my head, but I knew that he would try to hide it from our kids for as long as he could. He believed in fixing things, he always had.

With a nod, Lowen raced down the stairs eager to do whatever it was that he was being entertained with right now. I finally walked into the room, seeing the blinds already open letting the sun come in. The alarm clock on Jack’s side of the bed read ‘10:29’, and I wanted to curl into the large bed and sleep. I was uncomfortable last night, and extremely cold knowing that J wasn’t there to warm me up. He was like sleeping beside a heater. always warm and never cold, which was why I was a good contrast for him. To cool him off when he got too warm.

Walking into the bathroom and locking the door behind me, I saw my reflection. My hair was a mess of curls, my makeup smudged, eyes were nearly red from crying. Starting the shower turning the dial much hotter than usual. To the point where I knew that it would turn my skin red after I got out.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Lake ran toward me, throwing himself at me as I made my way to the bottom of the stairs. Everyone was sat in the living room, Amara content to play with Ellie on the floor while Jack and Quinn had a hockey game already playing. I nearly rolled my eyes before my son flung himself at me.

I caught him with a grunt, his legs clinging onto my thighs instead of my hips. I dragged him along, kissing his head feeling my arms beginning to get weak as he continued to cling. “Morning, sunshine.” I grinned down at him, letting myself sit down on the couch beside my husband. I knew Jack wouldn’t want his brother to know about his relationship problems and he knew that I didn’t either so he let his arm rest just behind me. A simple gesture that had my heart racing.

Lake crawled up to my lap, hugging me for a quick second before moving to play with his brother. The boy couldn’t sit still to save his life, always needing to be preoccupied with something. As he left, Jack’s hand grabbed onto my shoulder pulling me in while he continued to talk to his older brother. My legs pulled up to the side and I watched as Ellie spoke to my little girl in a quiet voice to make sure not to startle her even though she had two older brothers who are extremely loud.

Without thinking my head resting on Jack’s shoulder, I closed my eyes comforted by his warmth. When I opened my eyes I saw Ellie’s eyes nearly question me. Kiera must’ve told her something so I only looked away, avoiding her eyes because I knew that she could read me just as well as I could read her. 

I stood up leaving my human heater, “Hey, Ellie, you mind helping me in the kitchen?” I asked, to which she nodded. “J, you mind watching her?” I asked as Ellie stood up beside me, I fiddled with my fingers resisting the urge to pick at them and pull at the skin.

“She’s just right there?” Jack replied, giving me a harsh look. It was hard to ignore a lot when your husband was actively glaring at you as if I had said the stupidest thing ever. 

Quinn slapped his brother’s shoulder, looking towards me and smiling. “We’ve got her, Mads.” Even after I had been married, he still called me a nickname that had my last name in it and I missed the familiarity of being young. “Don’t we?” The oldest Hughes stood up from his spot, scooping Amara up from her spot on the floor.

Looking towards Isla with a smile, seeing her admiration of Quinn with a baby in his arms. I grabbed onto the blonde’s arm pulling her along with me to the kitchen. When we were a good distance from the living room I let her go.

Ellie held her hands on her hips, holding some motherly pose that would’ve made me laugh in any other situation. “Okay, now, what’s been going on? Why is Jack looking at you like you committed some crime against him? Kie had mentioned something-”

My arms wrapped around her quickly, and she paused when she felt that I was crying, my shoulders shaking with every sob. I sank to the floor, and she followed with me. Her hand rubbed circles into my back, there had been plenty of times that we had cried together, yelled (or what Isla considered yelling) at each other, and so much more. 

“I can’t, I don’t know how,” None of my words made sense as everything just followed me. Not a sentence seemed to form right in my head or mouth. “J, he- and Amara. I can’t-”

“Hey, take your time. Relax, you’re safe alright? I’ve got you, B. Always.” Her words only made me sob harder.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"Hey angel, you ready to go?” Quinn’s voice came closer, Ellie and I both paused looking up at the boy with wide eyes. My eyes were no doubt puffy and red, while we were both sitting on the floor in a comfortable position that we had been in for a while. I could already feel my ass beginning to hurt from the hardwood under. 

Ellie shook her head as I removed myself from her sniffling softly and wiping under my eyes, thankful for waterproof mascara. I grabbed one of Amara’s face clothes ran it under cold water and dabbed it under my eyes to reduce the swelling, hearing their hushed whispers behind me.

“We’re taking your kids to Kie’s, we’ll be back sometime later tonight.” Ellie’s soft voice was heard through the silence, she placed her head on my shoulder in a comforting spot and I bit back the urge to brush her hand off but she knew exactly what I needed even if it wasn’t said. She quieted her voice between the both of us, “I want you to go out tonight, I want you to take the time to fix it. You two are the one relationship I know that can work anything out. You are not your parents, Bird.”

I only nodded, placing the cloth over the tap turning around and giving the blonde a small smile. One of reassurance, that I was okay and that I would be okay. It was something so little, a doubt in the back of my mind. Old Birdie would’ve laughed if she found out what I had been so upset over.

Ellie left the kitchen, passing her husband who gave her a look that had her nodding. I always admired the two, their communication and how with a simple nod Ellie knew exactly what Quinn meant. They were synced up, and if you believed in soulmates; they were the perfect example of it.

“Trouble in paradise?” Quinn finally spoke, keeping his distance from me. Unless I had said or initiated any sort of physical touch, Quinn preferred not to. He wasn’t a big hug person, despite his younger brother being the definition of physical affection. Though he made an exception for me.

I managed a laugh, his commentaries were never all that serious. He knew that was what I had Ellie around for. “Something like that,” I replied, wiping my wet hands on a towel to dry them. Quinn gave me this look that I knew he knew and the dread began once again. The aching feeling of people knowing. The look of pity on people’s faces nearly made me want to cry all over again.

“I’m sure you’ve been lectured enough about this so I won’t bother with it. You know already. I will ask though, are you okay, Mads?” I was silent for a while as he waited for my response, deciding that I needed a drink because my head was beginning to pound once again. 

“Word of advice: do not drink when you have kids. You will never sleep or have any freedom. I think it’d be a little different if it was just the boys but Amara doesn’t like letting me sleep at all, she prefers to cry and scream until I get J. Daddy’s girl for sure.” I spoke, hoping to avoid his question. “It was only eight years ago when you swore off women and claimed you never wanted children. Then you got married and I imagine that you’re trying for children?”

We had somehow made our way into a spot in the kitchen that allowed you to peer through the living room. Quinn’s eyes glanced toward Ellie, with a sort of glassy look, it took him a minute to respond but I never questioned it. “I never wanted children, always expected that I would be the cool Uncle who spoiled the kids but kids make her happy. I want her to be happy.” He swallowed, I leaned my head onto his shoulder, to which he wrapped his arm around my arm, pulling me into his side.

“You guys are good together. You’d be a great dad, Quinn.” I reassured him, he kissed the top of my head and I already felt much lighter. The pair were perfect, the quiet and reassuring with the calm and calculated. They would make some kids extremely proud one day.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"Do you have everything? The diapers, the car seat, wipes?” Jack’s worry was clear to everyone as he began to name things on a list like it was memorized and I nearly smiled rolling my eyes at him but bit the inside of my cheek to keep myself back. 

Instead, I placed my hand on his shoulder, “Everything is in the bag, nothing has been removed and you even watched Quinn put the car seat in to make sure that it was put in right.” My voice was light and when Jack looked back at me, I could see so much worry. I looked towards the couple at the door, waving them off, “You better leave now before J finds something that you need.” I shooed, walking over toward Ellie who had Amara snuggled in with her. 

When I backed up, I could feel a crash into my legs and when I looked down I could see little five-year-old hands on my thighs, unable to wrap themself around me. I turned around in what little space I had being trapped between the five-year-old arms. Lake looked up at me, wide-eyed. It wasn’t often that they left the house without us, sure there was a lot of travelling from Michigan to New Jersey so that we could be close to their grandparents for the summer, but within their five years, there was a lot of going to Jack’s games travelling. Especially when Jack’s team played against Quinn or Trevor’s. 

I smiled, ruffling the boy’s hair. Quinn called out to Lake telling him that they were leaving and the boys scrammed from his spot, hurrying out the door and closing it behind him. I could hear the gravel crunching underneath the tires.

Feeling hands wrap around my waist, I embraced the feeling, letting Jack stand behind me and slightly rock me as my head came back to rest against his shoulder while his head stayed in the crook of my neck. Placing a kiss between my neck and shoulder, I sighed aloud, letting out a breath of anxiety that I held. 

There was a silence that washed over the house, it was quiet and I wasn’t sure what to do with it. I had been home with the kids for the last six months. Did I know what to do with myself in my free time? It was obvious that neither of us wanted to have sex, especially with the tension that filled our marriage for the last two days.

My hand placed itself over Jack’s pulling it from my body but I kept a hold of his hand dragging him with me to the couch. We sat down, my hand still placed into his and I cherished the feeling of it.

“We should talk,” I suggested finally feeling prepared. Though I wished I had some script, it would help with the anxiety. “About last night, about Amara, about everything. But first I want to say something, and you’re not going to argue with me on it because I already told them yes.” He never said anything so I took it as the queue that I could continue. “I’m going back to work in a month. We’ll hire a Nanny, Amara will already be seven months old. I can’t take care of the kids all by myself anymore. I got a job offer at a University, I’ll be getting paid twice the amount I did working at a High School.”

Jack only stared at me, as if he was trying to process my words and still manage to come up with something smart that wouldn’t make either of us upset, so he nodded. “Okay, we’ll start interviewing people next week. I might not always be there, it’s the first roadie of the season.” 

I nodded my reply, I knew that Jack didn’t like Nannies, especially since he claimed that Isadora took care of four children herself without any help but I couldn’t do it. “There has to be changes here too. I don’t want a divorce or to confuse our kids. I want to sleep in our bed, but I was doing some research and it said that babies need to start sleeping in their cribs when they’re six months old or they’ll get confused. Amara is confused and upset right now, I’m giving her formula now and she’s a bit fussy about it and she’s not used to you not being home. Sometimes we have to let her cry it out.”

“I get it, but sometimes we’re both too tired to argue with her.” He stated, and I remembered the time I had even brought her to sleep with us because she wouldn’t stop and the boys were in the room next door. I definitely regret setting the boys in the room next door to the baby.

“Another thing, I know that it’s different for both of us. You would think the second time around and with previous twins, I would be an expert but I’m not. I can assure you that a girl is much different than two boys. One more thing that I know is that I love you, and I’m sorry. I was completely jealous of our little girl getting all of your attention. It wasn’t fair that I was being selfish.” His hand squeezed mine in reassurance and he gave me a soft smile, kissing my cheek gently.

“I know that was hard for you to admit,” He teases with a smile knowing my stubbornness and I slap his bicep in protest, nearly speaking up in my defence before his lips came crashing onto mine and pulling back, “I'm sorry too. But to be fair, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to give you attention. You’ll always be my number one, Bird. Amara is a bit like her mother, don’t you think? Extremely needy and jealous?” He kissed me once again, his hand finding my back before laying me on the couch with him kneeling between my legs, his wedding band creating a chill on the back of my thigh as he brought it up to rest against his hip.

My hands pressed against his cheeks, pulling him closer. “I just love it when you insult me trying to get me in your bed, Mr. Hughes. Might want to watch your tongue.” I teased softly, my nails softly brushing against his jaw.

His brows raised in a challenge and I only grinned further. “You’ll get into my bed, either way, Mrs. Hughes.” Jack’s mouth came crashing against me again, and suddenly it felt as though we were newlyweds unable to keep our hands off of each other. It was rare that we actually slept around the time, staying up late and talking or doing other activities that involved no sleep. Little did I know that I would always remember this night.

[time-travelling-chaos]

Aziraphale and autism representation: episode 1

So, I was rewatching Good Omens recently, and I wanted to come back on how Aziraphale is represented as autistic in the show. I especially want to focus on the positive representation here, what makes me happy about it and how I see myself (and other autistic people can see themselves as well) in it. I'm probably going to go way too much into small details here, and end up analysing every scene where he is present (but to be fair, an autistic person is always autistic, whatever they are doing even if it's not always visible). And yeah, I'm probably going to be projecting a tiny bit here.

So, let's start with the first episode here, and especially, let's start at the beginning:

When we first see Aziraphale it is at the moment he meets Crowley and the conversation starts like this:

Crowley: That went down like a lead balloon Aziraphale: Yeah. *Laughs* Sorry what was that? Crowley: I said 'Well that went down like a lead balloon' Aziraphale: Yes, yes, it rather did.

There are two points that I find interesting here, about the way Aziraphale reacts to what Crowley says. He doesn't understand or hear the question right away, but still reacts to it before asking Crowley to repeat. One of the ways I read it is processing issues that often happen with autism. Sometimes, it simply takes time to process or to understand and information that has been given (and it has happened to me so many times, asking someone to repeat something to only realise what they have been saying when they start repeating it). Plus, here Aziraphale doesn't actually seems to realise that he has missed the information right away, it takes him a few seconds to do so. And sure, this can happen to everyone, but it happens more often with neurodivergent people, so it's a nice touch. The good thing about that as well, is the reaction of Crowley. He isn't upset, he simply repeats what he just said, and the conversation keeps going. This way of processing information is shown again later, when Crowley says 'it would be funny if we both got it wrong' and Aziraphale chuckles first (because it is objectively funny here) and only then realises the implications of it. [I'll insist here, but none of that means that Aziraphale is stupid. He is, it has been said over and over, a really intelligent being, I'll come back to it later.]

The second interesting point though is about masking. I'll come back to it later, because it's not the most interesting instance of it, but his first reaction to the question, is to pretend that he understood, to pretend that things are ok, and that he was following the conversation correctly, to not show that he didn't understand. And once again it's something that I do a lot. I miss pieces of information all of the time, because I didn't hear it properly, or wasn't focused or simply didn't understand something. And people get easily annoyed by that, plus it can be exhausting sometimes to ask to repeat all the time, so pretending to have heard something, and continuing like nothing happened is also a thing that I'll do quite often.

Now, one of the most visible things here, is the relation that Aziraphale has with eye contact. He makes eye contact with Crowley, plenty of times. But also (and this one also applies to Crowley to some extent), they spend a lot of the conversation not looking at each other.

And this is something that happens often in the show, when they are discussing, they don't always look at each other. It's more visible when Aziraphale is uncomfortable about something, or when he need time to think about something, he'll simply look away for some time, to give himself some time to rest and think properly.

Now, one of of the things I love about him, is his moral sense, and the way he cares. A common autistic trait is a strong sense of justice, but it means, most of the times, having your own sense of justice. And Aziraphale definitely has his own, that doesn't align with Heaven's one. He gives his flaming sword away to protect humanity, without hesitating a second. He doesn't want to kill anyone, not if he can avoid it. He is a strong character, and a protector and I love him for that.

Another thing about him, that can also be seen in that first scene, is that he has a tendency to overthink things. He clearly spent a lot of time worrying about the consequences of giving his sword away before talking to Crowley. While, that, by itself is not a positive trait, it is on that I love seeing in characters, because it is something that needs to be shown and discussed as well.

Now, the next scene where we see Aziraphale is the sushi scene, which shows a completely different side of him. Here, he is relaxed, and doing something he absolutely loves. I adore this part the way it shows the care he has for small things, the small ritual that he follows before eating, how it is shown that it is part of his habits/routine. It's a place he his familiar with, and that he loves. And the specific way he loves it. He takes time to do so, time to enjoy the smell, to care and love things slowly. And this is something I wish I'd let myself do more. Take the time to do things slowly, to fully appreciate them. And of course, that scene pictures the care and love for familiarity, for sameness, for small rituals, not in a boring way but in a caring and comforting way.

And then Gabriel arrives, and his expression changes, he becomes more nervous. And he stops talking freely. There is here a really nice parallel to make between autism masking and Aziraphale's relationship with Heaven. Autism masking is a way to protect yourself by trying to fit in a neurotypical society. And the way Aziraphale acts in Heaven, or in presence of Gabriel is extremely similar to that. He becomes nervous, and careful of what he is saying. Then we have this discussion

Gabriel: Why do you consume that? Aziraphale: It's sushi. It's nice. You dip it in soy sauce Aziraphale: It's what humans do.

And several things can be said about that. First, Gabriel's question wasn't really a question, more of a disguised insult here, to which Aziraphale replies as if it was a literal question from him, which does show some literal thinking. It's not the only instance of that, and a similar reaction will happen later in the discussion with Crowley about Warlock

Crowley: If there was no boy... Aziraphale: But there is a boy. He is right there.

Then, the way he talks about sushi. He is hurt that Gabriel doesn't like sushi, and he starts explaining what it is giving a tiny piece of information about it, and his face completely light up as he does. Food and especially certain type of food such as sushi are definitely one of his special interests, and it makes him really happy. He wants to talk about it, and he wants his interest to be appreciated. But then, he realises that it's not something Gabriel approves of, and hides his own feelings, stop talking about it, and try to justify it, to make his love acceptable (It's what humans do). And, ouch, this hurts. Having to mask your own interest when they are not deemed acceptable or, because you are talking 'too much' about it and it's 'not interesting' is absolutely a common experience of autism, and it is often heartbreaking.

Now, I don't really want to go into details in the relationship between Aziraphale and Heaven, because as I said I would like to focus more on the positive and on the parts that I find relatable, and also because it's a complex relationship and I'm not in Aziraphale's head, but I feel the need to say a few things about it.

Does Aziraphale have faith in Heaven? It's a bit of a complex question here. Plenty of times, he is shown talking about Heaven in what can be seen as positive (Heaven will finally triumph over Hell, we're the good guys). But he is also shown hating it, going directly against it (I don't like it anymore than you do...). He knows that the other Angels are, for most of them (not counting Muriel here), not good, and he is always careful around them. When we see him in Heaven, he has a tense face, makes small, constrained smiles, keeps masking and keeping his thoughts to himself, not trusting them. So where exactly does he stand with Heaven? I do believe that, at least in that season, he still has some faith in God, if not in any of the other angels, as he will end up praying to Her at some point, but there are other factors to take into account when analysing this relation. [Also I'm only focusing on the first season/ first episode here, I'm not going to the end of S2 at all here, which is a completely different topic]

First of all, liking the idea of something does not mean that you will like the thing as it is. To take a personal example here, I love academia. Except I don't. I love the idea of academia, the idea of public research, of being able to learn and to transmit knowledge. But academia is a shitty place. So, so much people are sexists and racists, (queerphobic as well, even if less perceived usually), and a lot of my friends have horror stories of their own about it. A lot of people are burnt-out, tired, it's a system that asks you to work relentlessly to get a chance to survive, in which a lot of people spend more time looking for money to work that actually working. Academia is absolutely awful but the idea of academia is amazing.

Then, as I mentioned it before -and this is the point that I really want to mention here- Heaven is associated to masking. And yeah, here, I know some people have mentioned that Heaven can check on him any time, meaning that he has to keep up appearances, but that's not exactly relevant to what I want to say here. Masking, when done for a long time, becomes a part of who you are, and you sometimes forget a part of who you are without it. For a long time, I used to go back home after my day and not being myself either, acting as if there was still people around me. Because, the rest of the time it's what keeps you safe. So you keep doing it without realising. Sometimes, I catch myself stimming or doing something I like when I'm alone, and I stop myself because it's not something you're supposed to be doing. Masking, when done for a long time, becomes somewhat a part of what you are, even when you are alone and safe.

And in a very similar fashion, it takes a lot of time to unlearn things. Not necessarily masking, but things that you learn from your family, you relatives, and you later realise were incorrect. I don't know how much (if to any extent) autism impacts that, but on some occasions, it had taken me years to manage to unlearn stuff (and some I still struggle with). And it's extraordinarily frustrating, both for you and for the people around you and sometimes hurtful as well. Now, Aziraphale has been with Heaven for thousand, even millions of years, it would make sense that some things stayed in his head. [Now, because I have seen that too many times, NO, he doesn't need to violently realise that Heaven is bad, he know it. In a similar way, I don't need to be let's say screamed at for masking, because it would only trigger the opposite effect. Aziraphale needs to be free from Heaven and some time to heal from it.]

Also, Aziraphale doesn't have any other option than Heaven at the moment (here in S1). Things are going to be destroyed and he will be stuck in Heaven, one way or another. So, maybe a part of it is simply him, trying to convince himself that there is good in Heaven because he doesn't have a choice.

Now, I don't want to say any of these are true, or try to analyse that relationship in more details, those are just a few points that I wanted to mention here, because they are (at least the part about masking) relevant to the rest of the discussion about autism so I'll stop there because there would be so much more to discuss and analyse, but that's not the topic of this post.

But as I was on the topic of Heaven, I'm going to do a small skip forward before going back to a linear discussion of the episode, and talk about that conversation:

I am an angel, you are a demon, we're hereditary ennemis. Get the behing me fool fiend! After you.

Now, I love this sentence, because it says a lot about his relationship with Heaven. He knows Heaven's rules, but he also knows when and when not to follow them. Of course, him and Crowley are enemies, that's how Heaven sees them. But they are also friends, that's how they constructed their own relationship. To some extend, it reminds me of the Don't Play With Liquid Nitrogen moment. [And before I go any further in my explanation, I'll emphasise on that: DO NOT PLAY WITH LIQUID NITROGEN, it doesn't matter whatever I say next, DO NOT PLAY WITH LIQUID NITROGEN GUYS].

When I was doing an internship in my second year of bachelor, one of the person I was working with started to show me and another student something, and told us that we were not supposed to play with liquid nitrogen, while himself splashing so of it around. The thing is, liquid nitrogen is dangerous, but when you know how to do it, you can touch it for a few seconds without getting burnt. And here it is a bit of a similar situation. By simply following the rules, they shouldn't interact, let alone be friends. But they've been there for long enough to properly understand the situation, and to know they can follow their own rules instead of Heaven and Hell's ones.

Now, back to the rest of the episode. After the scene with Gabriel, we next see Aziraphale in the bookshop. He is putting up his coat on the hanger, and while doing that, he is humming along with the classical music in the background. Here, he is at home, a place where he can be himself, do whatever he likes. And I love that we see him stim along with the music. We see him stim plenty of times during the show (with the music, when he eats...) and it shows that it's a part of who he is. And most importantly, it's never shown negatively or mocked, and yeah, it's just so great to see a character stimming (and I'll add: stimming in a non-cliché way. Everyone's stims are different and do not always fit the cliché representation that most people have of it) and enjoying doing so, in moments of relaxation and happiness.

And in the second part of that scene, the phone rings, and he is visibly annoyed. He likes the quiet, doesn't like been around people (even if he loves humanity and people themselves) and doesn't like unexpected things to happen. And thus, he also immediately goes to an automated script instead of starting a conversation (I'm afraid we're quite definitely closed).

Now, I'll take the opportunity to mention the bookshop itself, because I absolutely love it. To be fair, it would be one of my dream place in the world, but that's not the topic here.

The bookshop is such a comforting place. The lights are dim and it's quiet (despite the outside of it being in a crowded place, so that probably took a miracle), which makes it a dream to relax and avoid overstimulation. But also, it's a place where he stores everything related to another of his special interests: books (and also wines, and other things he loves). So books are a special interest that I share with him, so of course, it's something that I means a lot to be, but to be able to be surrounded by so much of things you love, with music you love in the background, it's simply amazing , and I'm repeating myself here, but it's absolutely a dream place to be. Plus, going back to the representation part, it's so, so important to see special interests shown as they are. Once again, not in a cliché way (and by saying that, I have absolutely nothing against special interests that can be considered more cliché (look a me right now, writing an essay on two of my current ones, autism and Good Omens)) but simply them being things that people can usually enjoy, but to a much strong extent in Aziraphale's case. And once again, it's never here to be made fun of, simply to be shared and appreciated.

Something notable as well about Aziraphale is his posture. He sits in a very straight way, that doesn't seems comfortable. Now, autistic people tend to have more the opposite problem, which is to have bad posture. But a usual one is also a notable sign as well. But also, his posture when walking is interesting.

He is holding his hands close to his body, and most of the time is stimming once more, with his hands (or perhaps with his ring as well). And this type of posture, is so, so nice to see. When I was younger, I had the tendency to hold my arms around my stomach, in a way that was a bit similar to the way Aziraphale is holding himself in the picture above. And, of course, I got scolded and criticised for it, until I stopped doing so. So seeing Aziraphale having a similar posture, and knowing the type of comfort it can bring, and how this type of contact is important, makes me really happy.

Now, I'm diverting a bit from the topic for a second here, but there is an interesting parallel to make between Aziraphale's posture, and the one of the other angels:

When we look at the angels in Heaven, they all hold their hands in front of them, but it's in a tense way trying to show authority and rigor, while for Aziraphale, it's in a more relaxed way, and the goal for him is comfort. It's similar, but it's also so different, and it creates and interesting contrast between Aziraphale and the other angels.

And when I'm talking about the posture, I'd also like to mention the vocabulary. Aziraphale's vocabulary is peculiar, old-fashioned, but it's also really precise. Now, that is not something I particularly relate to, but a lot of autistic people do tend to have a very specific and precise vocabulary to communicate their ideas in the clearest way possible, and I like that this is something we can find in Aziraphale as well.

Quickly after the discussion between Aziraphale and Crowley, they discuss going out for lunch, and mention the last time that happen, and start discussing the reign of terror, to which Aziraphale replies 'We had crepes'.

And while he does so, his face absolutely lights up. Now, I've seen people mentioning the fact that Aziraphale doesn't really show (or worst doesn't really have) emotions, but this scene is so much the opposite of that. When he is talking about something he love, he is so expressive and his love for it is so visible. And I love seeing that, seeing the love for special interests being accepted and represented in such a positive way. Now, when talking about emotions, there is a sharp contrast between this scene and the previous one, where they were discussing about Heaven where he kept his face neutral. Having a neutral face is something that is often seen as one of the characteristics of autism, but it's not fully true. First of all, it can be related to masking (and I've already discussed the relationship between Heaven and masking here) but also, it usually depends a lot on the situation, and when autistic people are talking about their interests, they can, in fact, be very expressive, as this can be seen here with Aziraphale.

Another thing that I love about that scene is how he connects the discussion to one of his interests. Now, another characteristic of autism is to see patterns between things, and for a long time, I thought this didn't quite applied to me. But it does, and usually in the way it's shown here with Aziraphale. When I have a special interest, I have a tendency to find way to connect everything to it, to make links between ordinary things and my interest, and that was a really cool thing to see here.

And now the dinner scene. I've mostly already discussed everything happening in the scene before, but I'll just say it again, because it shows that those things are constants in Aziraphale's character, and not a one time thing. First is his love for food, that we can see there once more. Then he is once more stimming after eating. And also, he is finishing eating much after Crowley already finished his meal. He takes his time, takes the time to really savour the things he loves, and I love that for him.

Another thing that I want to mention, is his gardener disguise (and much later in the show, his newspaperman disguise). It is, in both cases, so exaggerated, and shows a lot about how he comprehends the world. It's something that I can connect to the idea of learning how to be human only from what you see in shows and books, and that's something a lot of autistic people can related to. (And of course, this rarely works in real life, the same way that it seems odd in the show).

There is another interesting point to mention, and that's questions. When we think about Good Omens and questions, we directly think about Crowley, and him asking questions. But in the show, at least in that first episode, Aziraphale is the one asking a lot of questions. Especially about how precisely things will happen.

Won't people remark on the sudden appearance of a huge black dog? His parents for a start?

He needs precise information to know how things will happen and to be able to prepare for what will happen, and that, once again, is a strong autistic trait. (I could also discuss about the fact of Heaven not liking questions, and autistic people usually being criticise when asking questions to understand clearly what to do, but I think that would be going a bit too far in the analysis here.) Still, I love seeing the way he understands the world, and the way he sees the potential issues that could arise. And also, there is that scene with Crowley, that I particularly relate to.

Aziraphale: If he comes to his full powers, how will we stop him? Crowley: This won't happen. Aziraphale: *quick annoyed smile*

And this scene is important, because it shows the difference of what autistic people can expect when the ask a question, and what other people understand. Here Crowley tries to reassure him, and Aziraphale gets slightly annoyed, because it was not what he needed. This is a situation I've been here before, and when I ask this type of question (because at the same time I'm overthinking and I need to plan how I'll act and have a plan) people offer reassurance. And this is rarely helpful to handle the situation, because in that type of case, what I need is answers (or at least something like 'we'll figure it out'. Because things can go wrong, and I need to be prepared for this eventuality as well). And yeah, I really like the scene for showing that discrepancy between what is needed by autistic people, and the answer that other people usually provide.

One more of Aziraphale's special interests is magic, and it has quite an important part in the show.

As it's the case with all of the times we see special interest, we also see Aziraphale being extremely happy with it, and his face always lighting up. But this one is a bit different because he is bad at it. When he does magic, he is clumsy, and drops things and fails most of the time. And that's great, for two different reasons. First of all, clumsiness, and poor space management is often a part of autism, and it's one that is rarely shown or represented, so it's something that I like to see. But, and most importantly, it shows that you don't need to be good at something to enjoy it, and this, by itself is amazing. And it's especially great in the context of special interest, where once again, one of the clichés is that autistic people have to know everything and to excel at their interets, which can end up putting a lot of pressure on people (also as some autistic people, myself included, are extremely perfectionists). So seeing him simply enjoying it without being good at it is refreshing here, and helpful as well.

I'm now going to very quickly mention that conversation when the Hellhound doesn't arrive

Aziraphale: Wrong boy Crowley: Wrong boy

Simply because I've discussed earlier in the post about processing issues, and about how it had nothing to do about Aziraphale's intelligence. Well, here is a perfect example of it, because this time, just after learning about the situation he is able to have a good understanding of the situation, and, if that's completely obvious for us, it is much less to them.

And I'm now going to conclude with that sentence said by Aziraphale at the end of the episode: Welcome to the end times.

I don't have any specific analysis behind that one, I just happen to particularly love it and I wanted to share it once more.

And to conclude a bit more with that analysis of the first episode, I absolutely love how Aziraphale is depicted in the show. He is a strong and caring character, but also a very complex one. I find it really great that his character is able to show the good and the part parts of autism, and also, that it never turns any of it as a joke, nor goes strongly in the clichés. So, yeah, I absolutely love him.

So at first I was planning to do a similar analysis for every episode, but I had not realised how much time and energy this would cost me. I really loved doing it though, so I might continue, but I'm not making any promise here.