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toastofthetrashfire · 7 months

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DFF and Color Part 4: Episode 8

Okay let's jump into color again! Posts 1-3 on color here, here, and here. As before this is a brainchild in collab with @slayerkitty

Tee continues to wear and use blues and grays. And being around his uncle only reinforces this.

Non continues in reds, oranges, pinks, and tans and other warm colors. He starts in the same tan shirt we left him in last episode, faded, angry, hurt. But by the time he's off with his new script he's back to a brighter pink, ready to act for himself.

Unlike previous times, he's gone with the group he has no greens, grays, or blues on him (with the exception of his jeans but I'll read those as neutral). He's set against the group, and it reflects his determination to embody that role.

The rest of the group continues to be in blues and grays, with the exception of Jin. In the last episode, he went from yellow to pink. Here, he's in a middle ground of orange. Perhaps because he still has some hope of getting past what he did, he's not as pink as the last episode, so perhaps not as deeply mired in anger and guilt. But he's certainly not his usual yellow. In either case, he is marked by his guilty conscience in a way the others aren't. It also makes him much closer in color to Non at the very point where he can't even look Non in the eye, almost as if he, like Por in last episode, is stealing and draining Non's color.

The threat of the group (or primarily Tee in this case) comes back through the greenish gray water bottle.

As they film and Non confronts them, they've switched into all blues and grays so Jin is matching the group now. It's the group vs Non. Jin apologizes but ultimately Non passes out before it's resolved, leaving Jin still complicit.

Meanwhile Non is drowned in the black costume. It's not the first time he's worn it, but it's certainly an important moment. His shirt collar and bracelet give him his last bit of color but we can see the toll everything has taken on him. If last week his battery and color were being drained, now he's running on fumes. The pink that stood out before as Non tried to take control is covered over much like the drug Tee gave him kicks in before Non can continue or resolve the situation. Of course black can also be linked to death, which looms over Non as Tee takes him to his uncle. Like his fate, Non is shrouded in black, a mystery with high stakes--death or disappearance.

The gang circles the wagons and continue to wear blue while talking to the police. This includes Jin who chooses to protect the group. We don't know why he does so, but whether it's out of fear, a desire to not betray his friends, or another motive, he is siding with the group. We're clearly meant to read this as Jin once again slipping back to the group and hurting Non.

Interestingly, Tee wears blue but also pink. In fact his outfit mirrors what Jin wears in the present day. I can think of two ways to read this. If for Jin, pink represents his guilt, perhaps Tee also is feeling guilty or at least a cognitive dissonance. We know that later in the episode he'll grapple with the implications of what his uncle may have done to Non even if he lies to himself that it's fine. On the other hand, we could read this as Tee stealing Non's color, much like Por did last episode. This reading makes a lot of sense since Tee is currently the most culpable of the group and the most aware of what happened to Non. It makes this an extra gut punch as Tee wears the same color Non did when he handed him over to his uncle while at the same time hiding everything.

They all are in their blues and grays again as they finish the film. The only other color (aside from Top's hint of his future yellow) is the orange camera case. Perhaps a reminder here of our absent friend.

This is where it gets interesting. While Jin stays in blue with Por, the other three are in orange and red. Now Tee has mixed in red before but always with blue along side it, and we haven't seen Fluke in any colors beside blues and grays in the past. Top has had some yellow (cause who can keep his "winning" personality down) but orange is new. In the scene Jin begs the group to call Non "Non" instead of Greasy for once. Normally when he speaks up to the group he has other colors going on, but now he's in conformist blue so what's going on? Perhaps his blue is a final hope that he can reach the group, get them to understand without having to abandon the friendship.

Meanwhile Fluke, Top, and Tee are in Non's range of colors. I see three possibilities here. First, they have stolen Non's color. Similar to last episode and Jin and Tee respectively at earlier points in this episode. Though in it's interesting that Fluke takes the pure red while the other's take orange. Perhaps because he is now the lowest in status? Or perhaps it marks the distinction between Fluke as a bystander and Top and Tee who took the active role.

The second possibility is that the color shift marks their guilt. Non's blood is on their hands and seeped into their color schemes. We even have the same alcohol cans as Jin smashes after he films Non and Keng. The amount of remorse they might feel will vary but they're tainted nonetheless, just as Jin moved to pink after the video.

The third possibility, which is perhaps interrelated, is that it marks these characters starting to shift to the colors they'll use in the present. Fluke goes from blues and greys to red, perhaps overshooting but soon will settle into purple. Top moves to orange on his way to yellow. And Tee is now adding orange which he'll later mix in when he defends White.

Interestingly in all of this Por remains in blue like he hasn't been impacted at all. In addition to having likely no guilt, unlike the others he has a lot more protection from consequences due to his family's wealth and influence. So while, Non's blood is technically on his hands, it can't touch him, and won't be visible to others.

At the premier, Tee and Top have bounced back to their usual blue. Meanwhile Fluke remains in red, again perhaps because he's now the lowest tier member, or perhaps because (as we see in the future) the weight of this is much heavier on him psychologically. Jin meanwhile has lost color. We could argue this is part of the gray part of the blue/gray color scheme, but it reads more brown to me, like a unsaturated yellow or pink that's turned brown and muddy. We can tell by his facial expressions throughout this too that he is increasingly jaded. Like Fluke, it's weighing on him but in his own way.

Por has taken credit for Non's work, erased him from the film. But he is still quite literally "the hidden character." The fact that Por can't fully cover this up is evident in the red letter "H." Non is present even as he is hidden and erased.

Por has a touch or blue/green in his shirt but is mostly in black here like his father. He is shrouded and overshadowed by his father, his achievement ultimately linked to his father and not his own efforts.

DFF really likes it's red, yellow, and blue scheme. Again, despite how hard they try to erase Non they're surrounded by his color during the premier. Showing how they can't escape their culpability but also how they've appropriated his color for their own gain.

Interestingly they throw in one audience member in blue. At first I thought it might be White, but looking through shots I think it's just an extra. Still a striking choice to throw blue into the sea of red and yellow.

Phi continues in his own blue but still mixes in Non's colors. He still wears the bracelet in the scene with his father, and in the theater he is framed against reds and oranges. On top of that of course is the fact that he is collaborating with someone in red (likely Tan).

When Tee talks with his uncle they're both in blue, but the orange tigers hang over Tee just like him wearing orange before. The implications of what he's helped his uncle do hang over him as well.

Interestingly, Tee's uncle is typically in blue except for this scene. Here the shot mixes reds and blues. He looks like he's in purple, with red and blue lighting and decor mixing in the background. Similarly Perth's character mixes red with blue as well. I'm wondering if this is to signal that Perth's character will in some way be aligned with Non or help in some way to take down the uncle. His presence and touch change the uncle's color but still hide his own intentions.

That's been this week! Next week we have Jin sporting red! Could it be his guilt, a slowly deteriorating relationship with the group, his budding relationship with Phi? I'm interested to see.

#dff the series #dead friend forever #dff meta #my posts #my meta

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plush-rabbit · 3 years

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Aphrodisiac Induced Reader + The League of Villains

A/N: For the anon who asked nicely a few days ago!! I hope you enjoy it!!

You were certainly in a wrong place, wrong time type of situation. A mugging- someone pressed against the wall and you react before thinking- courage in your veins from who you associate yourself with. You bark out a warning, the mugger instantly pulling away and the victim running without a look back. The mugger with eyes wide and face pale, they puff their cheeks towards you.

The mist-like perfume floats towards you like a cloud. You take a few stumbling steps back, your hands covering your nose and mouth but it isn’t enough, the cloud penetrating through the gaps in your fingers. Immediately, your eyes begin to water, your chest booming with heavy coughs that make your lungs ache. You nearly double over, worry clouding your mind that this is some noxious gas and you’re dying. There are rushed steps that sound beside you for a moment and when you turn around, through bleary eyes, you can make the figure of the person running away from you.

It’s a few moments before your cough finally stops, the heaviness in your chest dissipating. You take a few heavy breaths, your hand on your chest, feeling the way your beating heart pounds against you. You slowly rise to your height, and look at your hands- singular hands with no blurry vision surrounding them. You let out a short chuckle- you’re fine. You take a step forward and you double over, your hand shooting to the wall and eyes wide.

There’s a heat in your body, a crushing weight on your chest that makes it impossible to breathe. Your sex pulses, leaking past your slit with each small movement. Your body flushed with arousal and heat, sweat sticking to the back of your shirt. With a barely cognitive mind, you realize that the cloud that invaded you must have been an aphrodisiac. You curse under your breath, making slow, careful steps towards a familiar hideout in hopes of being taken care of in any type of way.

Bubaigawara Jin:

One of the better choices to go to is Jin. He can be quite brash and speak his mind without warning- out of his control, of course- but he is more than happy to help you hide out when you barge into his room. He doesn’t know what’s going on with you- you won’t even speak to him about it, only rushing to his room and locking the door behind you. He’ll give you a suspicious look, but he won’t question it even when you curl onto his bed, stuffing the flimsy blankets between your legs as you turn your back to him. He’ll prod carefully, his words repeating and eyes always shifting, the only steady thing about him is his steps.

His hand will touch your bare hand, and he pulls away when he finds your skin hot to the touch. He can hardly make out your words through your breathing- it’s heavy, as if you’ve ran all the way towards him and from the way your face is flushed and the sweat on your brow, he thinks you did. You ran to him, and there has to be a reason for it. He prods you once more, a bit more forceful than last and it’s then that you hold his hand tight enough that it hurts just a bit. You pull him tight towards you- he sits on the bed and you bury yourself into his stomach. You mention a single word- aphrodisiac. He stiffens under your touch, aware now of how close you are to him.

You cling tightly onto him so tightly that it takes a sharp pinch against your bicep to make you let go but even then he believes that it’s because of arousal by the sharp moan rather than a yelp. He pats your head awkwardly and stands, trying to ignore how your arm reaches out towards him, the way tears cling to your lashes. He’ll clear his throat and turn away, his whole body tense as he shuffles inside of a drawer. All that he needs is a simple distraction- nothing more and nothing less. Coins will clatter to the floor, in his hand a cigarette box with two remaining cigarettes and deck of cards, the corners roughed and bent.

The cigarette does nothing to ease his nervous state. You’re on his bed, legs clenched and he can hear you call his name in broken gasps. He puts the cigarette out, the smoke wafting in the room and ash filling the tray. The cards won’t stay still, always being shuffled in his hand or stacked but never as good as it usually is. He’s nervous for a few reasons and they all stem around you. His eyes are closed and he’s tempted to put on his mask for a sense of control until the bed creaks. When he turns his head, you’re behind him, perched on his lap and hands cupping his face. He can feel your grind against him, your eyes filled with tears and your hand slipping to hold his and cup your breast with it. You ask him to take care of you.

His lips taste like nicotine, smoke heavy in your lungs and invading your mind like the quirk did prior. Jin is almost as needy as you are, watching your lust filled gaze, your parted lips that shine when your pink tongue slips past your lips. You hold yourself close to him and his kisses are slow and shaky until you slip your tongue. His hands hold your body close to him, lips marking themselves against your skin, your cute, little humping against him turning into something more and more, until your panting his name, your face scrunched up and hidden in the crook of his neck. His hands dance against the waistband of your shorts and then to your underwear, slipping past the fabric and onto your sex. His hands are calloused, touching as your leaking sex and he can feel your tears hit his neck. You move yourself into his hand, pleading for him to never stop as your arms wrap around him, nails digging into his shirt.

Dabi:

Going to Dabi is a choice. He’s crass, always rude and snarking out an insult, but somewhere deep down, he still has his humanity, a piece of him that feels to such a high extent that it’s painful. When you come to him, the door knocked on repeatedly that he has half a mind to scare whoever is on the side, he’s ready to make an ugly face until you hide yourself in his chest. Heat against heat, a fire so damaging to you that it makes you unable to feel and a fire that is killing him the more he lives, he lets you enter without a word being said. But that’s the only freedom you are given. He’ll push and push, prod at you until you scream in frustration, your breath hot against his collarbone that it’s because of an aphrodisiac quirk.

He’ll laugh at you, shake his head and sit down at the edge of the bed, legs spread and for a second, for a brief moment, he wants to mess with you. He wants to make you beg for it- all in good fun- but then he sees the way that you pinch your legs, the way your knees practically buckle under your weight and the desperation that leaks off of you like a heavy perfume. It’s no fun messing with you if you can’t even fight back. He’ll offer you his room as a safe haven, let you rest on his bed and turn a blind eye when you hug the thin blanket close to your body. The bed will creak under your eight and he knows it isn’t the most comfortable, but you take it gratefully, huffing and puffing, near tears as he simply looks down at your shaky body.

He’s no stranger to making himself at home on the floor. He’s trying to distract himself by reading an old magazine, trying to ignore how you claw onto the mattress but it’s no use. He stays silent, hoping that you’ve forgotten that he’s still in the room with you. The bed creaks, springs that squeak and echo in the room. He tilts his head back, eyes closed, hoping to sleep until your heat has worn off. He’ll open his eyes slowly and turn to the bed, see you peeking at him above the railing. He simply looks back and then you call his name, begging for him to join you on the bed, promising that you won’t touch him, that you just need someone beside you and that it all hurts too much. In a moment of empathy, he rises, groaning at the stress in his knees. The bed creaks under him and he is stiff beside you, the mattress under his head as his pillow is between your legs.

Your hand clasps onto his, your nails digging into his pale skin, pinching onto him tightly. He lets you hold his hand, eyes closed tightly when your breath is against his neck, ragged and heavy, his name like a prayer under your breath. He doesn’t let you come any closer than that, just letting you linger against him, pushing you away when your leg brushes against his calf. He doesn’t want you to touch him, it burns in ways that he is unfamiliar with. He’ll make a snarky comment, look the other way as he puts himself down, telling you that you’re only here because it’s the aphrodisiac. Maybe it’s unfair to do this; to make you pity him when you’re so giving, but he can’t help himself. His free hand scratches into the mattress, and lets you sit above him, your eyes filled with tears and mouth tasting like the sweetest thing he’s ever had in his life.

He tries to push you off. His hands curve against your chest, your nipples peeking through your shirt, your kiss sloppy and he welcomes it. He lets you kiss him, to let your lips linger between his staples and charred skin, to have your bottom lip brush against skin that is still soft and reminiscent of someone who has died long ago. Dabi will let his hands roam under your shirt, feeling the soft skin of your stomach, the way you shiver and moan into his mouth when he teases under your chest. His name on your tongue is something that he wants to hear repeated until your voice is hoarse. Your skin is warm, different than his ever burning one, it’s softer and welcoming, your back curves above him, your lips peppering over his face when he breaks the kiss. Rough hands will touch your aching body, searching for every place that he can touch, for every inch of skin that feels like something that isn’t his. Tears that fall onto his skin when his fingers slip against your leaking slit, a heavy cream that lingers on his fingertips and slips slowly down his fingers. You’ll be above him, the light behind your naked body and his nails will pierce into your skin when you swirl your hips above his.

Iguchi Shuichi:

Due to his quirk, Shuichi can smell you before you even near his room. It’s heavy in the air, and instinctively he takes deep breaths, making it all much worse for him. He holds the door open with a hand, his claws scratching against the door, marks left etched into the wood. You cling to him, gasp for breath and he wonders if you can hear his heart beat with you so close. You’re muttering about how much it hurts, your hands digging into his shirt. When you look up at him, your face flushed and mouth parted, he stutters in his words, only to end the sentence by letting you come in and closing the door behind you. He knows you aren’t hurt, but he also knows that whatever it is, is so much worse. You cling to him, brush your lips along his neck and tell him how you got hit with what you think is an aphrodisiac quirk and his heart sinks.

Regret is evident in his expression, eyes narrowed and hands curled into fists; he regrets his decision to let you in almost immediately. In such a confined space, it’s torturous to have you in the same room as him. He lets you rest on his bed, his scarf tucked under the pillow, now held tightly in your hands. He sits at the floor near the bed, legs shaking, clicking rapidly at a game console, ignoring how you whisper his name through hissed teeth. His teeth tear through the flesh inside his mouth and he’s so uncomfortable in the entire situation. Due to him being ostracized, he doesn’t really know how to interact with people he’s attracted to. He’s stiff, trying desperately to make small talk in order to avoid how awkward it is to have you in heat on his bed.

It’s horrid and you can barely keep a conversation going. The bed squeaks, your moans muffled by his scarf and he wants to ignore it all but you’re right there and he can’t. You call his name, your hand scratching at the bed sheets. He doesn’t know why he does it, he shouldn’t have answered your calls, he should have turned the other way and left the room, left you alone in private to figure yourself out until the aphrodisiac wears off. But he doesn’t. He sits beside you in bed, flat on his back and he lets out a breath he’s been holding when you hold his hand. You pull yourself close to him, clinging to him, his name a pained whimper under your breath while you keep your eyes tightly closed.

He lies there for what feels like an eternity. He stares at the ceiling, ignoring your breaths, how you go to cling to him, and how you rub your thighs together. With his heightened sense, he can smell your arousal; the sweet aroma of it, how fast your heart beats and everything that comes with you. He tries to ignore how you begin to not-so-subtly touch yourself against him but his own arousal gives him away. His own breathing begins to match yours and he’s trying to ignore how you call his name but then your hand slips from his. You roam his body, begging for him to take care of you. Your arousal has leaked heavily, a noticeable spot darkening, your face dazed and movements sloppy as you rise above him, his tent pressed against the inside of your thigh.

Your lips are on his. It’s an awkward, tense kiss, your tongue slipping into his mouth, the soft muscle touching at the points of his teeth, and your lips peppered over his face. You’re so desperate, and he tries to control himself, to not let his claws pierce your skin but you’re above him, crying for him and grinding yourself onto him. He’s a heavy weight above you, crushing you and letting himself touch your body. Shuichi is almost as needy as you are. He keeps a hand on you, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck as he slips inside of you, your sex leaking onto him making him fit so nice that his only thought is that you were made for his cock. He pays no mind when you nip at him, when your limb circle around him in a desperate attempt to keep him close to you. He rocks steadily, trying to keep himself calm in order not to let himself release inside of you. His pupils dilate, his claws digging into the fat of your body, grabbing at your and burying himself deep, so desperate to feel your cunt try to milk him.

Sako Atsuhiro:

Atsuhiro nearly jumps out of his own skin when you barge into his room. He worries at first, fearing the worst when he sees you nearly doubled over, hissing and calling his name with a shaky voice. His hand will round your shoulder, bringing you close to him, his voice drenched in worry. You flinch from his touch and he’s growing even more frantic- asking if you need anything, where does it hurt, and most importantly what happened. Through gritted teeth you are able to make out that you were attacked but not in the way that he thinks- a puff of an aphrodisiac that you had accidently inhaled is what’s making you act so strangely. Now with the worry of you being injured out of the way, he laughs. He’ll rise from his knees, and offer you his hand, not missing the way that you whine when he picks you up. In a half-serious, half-joking tone, he’ll ask if you want to be put into a marble until the effects have worn off.

He’ll lead you to your room, making sure that the only thing you touch is him. He’s careful to not let anyone see your sensitive state. While he is rather pleased that you came to him during a rather vulnerable moment, he knows that you’ll be much more relaxed in your own room. Once inside, you lean onto him, holding his hand tightly that your knuckles have begun to pale. He doesn’t know the full effects of the aphrodisiac, how painful it feels, how you’ve soaked yourself with just a simple hand hold, and how you can feel your hold on your control slip with every passing moment. He simply assumes you’re in a rather more needy state than usual. He’ll sit you down on your bed, cup our face with gloved hands and tell you that he’ll go fetch you some water to cool off but as he rises, your hands grab onto his wrists.

Assuming that the potency of the aphrodisiac wasn’t’ strong at all, he assumes that you’re more embarrassed rather than needful. He’ll sit beside you, jokingly offering the marble situation but his words die in his throat when you sit on his lap, your arms snaking around his neck as you pull yourself close to him. It’s only until he’s looking at your disheveled state that he realizes that the aphrodisiac must have been stronger than anything he thought about. His hands will shakily go to hold your hips, sucking in a sharp breath when you flinch from his touch. He’ll apologize quickly, only to falter when you let out a distressed whine and move your hips above his.

Living life as a villain and a rather older gentleman certainly limits his sexual interactions. His hands will return to your hips while his gaze remains on your eyes that are clouded with lust. He hadn’t realized how aroused you were and you seem to be nearing him with every beat of his heart. He can feel your breath on him, sweet like strawberries and your chest rising heavily, meeting his own. You cling to him, press yourself closer until he’s unable to differentiate which beating heart is his and which is yours. His hands will leave your hips and he’ll shush your quiet pleas for him to return his hands. His gloves will slowly come off, dropped to the floor without a care. His fingertips will brush way the hair from your face and when you’re so close to him where your lips brush against his, he’ll kiss you and smile when you return it feverishly, gripping onto him and deepening what was meant to be a soft kiss.

You’re much softer than he imagined, the taste of strawberries and vanilla. Atsuhiro tries to be soft, to not let his own feelings get in the way while you’re in a heightened state, but he is unable to. He holds you close, lets his back hit your mattress, kissing your lips and letting you grind yourself above him. You’re feverish, touching him all over, letting your hands roam his body and he touches carefully. His hands will graze over your breasts, his knee will rise and rub against your sex, your moans muffled against his mouth. His bravado falls behind closed doors, his charisma nothing more than whispers under his tongue as he kisses your collarbone and makes his way to your chest, sucking in a pebbled nipple into his warm mouth. He can only whimper your name, watching as your face scrunches in pleasure, your legs straddling him, hips slowly lowering to slip him inside of you.

Shigaraki Tomura:

Going to Tomura is certainly an option. He isn’t doing anything particularly interesting when you come to him, but he is annoyed at having his solitude interrupted. When he opens the door to find you curled up as you crack out his name, practically groveling at his feet, he will narrow his eyes. He ushers you into his room quickly, a careful hand around your forearm, pulling you close to him, ignoring how you lean closer to him. He’ll toss you onto the bed, and he’s crouched before you, calling your name to look at him. Worry is evident on his features, his hands hovering over your shaky frame despite his control on his quirk. He’s nervous until you lean on him, face buried into his shoulder as you recount what happened.

He’ll laugh at you. It’s humorous to know that you were reduced to such a mess by a mistake of your own. He pulls himself away from you, rising to his full height, his brow bone raising slightly as your hands cling to his shirt, your body desperate to hold onto his. He’ll give you a wave of his hand, tell you to sort it out for yourself over in his room. As a joke, he’ll turn, and offer himself, a wicked grin on his face but he turns around before he has a chance to see your response. His name is called, and he’ll only give you half of his attention, and when you ask him if you can stay at his place for the time being, his shoulders will square. He’ll give you a flippant wave of his hand, returning his attention the game before him.

You’re fussy is the best way that he can describe your state. You cling to his bed, you try to edge yourself closer to him, and it’s starting to become a nuisance when you wrap yourself around him. You aren’t thinking clearly, your mind too fuzzy with arousal so heavy on your mind. He can handle your fluttering touches on him, can bite the inside of his cheeks until blood stains his tongue and he can even lean into it, his face hot when your lips ghost over the pulsing point in his neck. His attention on the game is fading, concentration lost and more hit points being done onto him. You’re slipping yourself onto his lap, pleading for him to take care of you, grabbing his hand and kissing his fingers. The controller falls from grip and onto the small space between your body and his and the sound of a game over is a background noise compared to your heated pants.

He is growing more and more annoyed, his erection straining against his sweatpants. He isn’t necessarily angry but seeing you in such a sensitive state is making him more and more restless. He’ll tell you to stand and with the authority in his words, you listen to him. He leads you to the bed, pushing you done to sit, fingers pinched at the bridge of his nose. He understands that you’re in a state that you can’t control, but he can control his but even then, you’re begging him to touch you, grabbing his hand and pressing your lips against his palm. His lips ghost over yours, his hand pinching your face together until your lips are pursed, your tongue out, panting heavily and you stare up at him, tears in your eyes and your thighs rubbing together. He’ll tell you in a slow voice that if you really want him to take care of you then to beg for it.

It’s pure frustration on his part as Tomura towers over you on his knees. His hands are on you, his lips kissing at every exposed skin and with just the simplest touch you become undone under him. You call his name, hold him close to you as he fingers go to slip around your throbbing sex. He’s careful over you, his hands harsh and soft, pulling taut on your nipples and rubbing teasingly slow around your leaking sex. His hair falls around you like a curtain, his lips pressed against you, until you both run out of breath. You’re gasping for breath, hugging him close to you, kissing at his scars and over still red stained cuts that curve around his neck. He pushes himself close to you, sighing as he slips into your leaking sex that hugs him close. Scarred hands will ghost over your body, each touch leaving you a burning mess that only makes you kiss him more and more until you’re gasping for breath under him.

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hawkinsschoolcounselor · 2 years

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If Will Byers was a student at the school you work at as a school counselor, what advice would you give him?

That would depend on what I know. I mean, I know a lot about him since he's a fictional character, but that wouldn't be the case if he were a real student of mine. Will is incredibly good at hiding his feelings, so I might not have a good sense of what is going on with him.

I suppose I would start by talking to him about the bullying. We often know something about bullying that goes on in our schools, even if we often don't know enough, usually because bullies avoid getting caught, to do anything about it. Word would eventually get to me that Will gets bullied for being perceived as gay. I would also be aware of the fact that his father left the family, which would also have me wondering about any potential abuse.

The first step is always to attempt to build a rapport. You never just go in and start poking and prodding. That would cause any kid, let alone one like Will, to close up and just hide even more. I'd start listening for any loose threads I could gently pull at, seeing what may or may not unravel. The idea to get a sense as to what is on his mind. What are his strengths, weaknesses, protective factors, risk factors, etc? What needs to be built up, what needs to be coped with?

There's no easy answers when it comes to working with a student. If Will started to talk about the bullying, I'd ask how he felt about it and what part of it bothered him most. Is it that they turned things that should be positives (art, being kind, etc.) into negatives? Is it that people might think it's true? Is it because he's afraid it's true? That last one I'd never bring up unless he did first. The point is to help him get to the root of the issue. The only outcome I'd be trying to direct him to is a healthy self-identity, but I can't tell him what that identity is supposed to be. And, hey, if stuff about Mike comes up, I'd be a judgment-free ear to listen and help him unpack it all.

As for the stuff with his dad, I'd want to help him process all of that, but, again, only if he brings it up. Is he afraid of proving his father right? Does he still value his father's approval of him? Does he hold himself at all responsible for him leaving? The point here would be to help him identify any cognitive distortions where he places any undue blame on himself, and help him reframe things in a more positive, helpful manner. He's a good kid whose mother and brother love him, whose friends value him. Sometimes it takes an outside perspective to help shift things back into place.

As for the supernatural stuff, well, I'm not sure I'd be much help there. Since he's an artist, I'd probably assume he's being metaphorical if he even dared to broach the topic. Of course, then I'd almost certainly be pulled into the situation. I'm not sure I'd like my chances, but, being a school employee, I know that there's, sadly, always a possibility that I have to come in between my students and danger.

#stranger things #will byers

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feuilletoniste · 2 years

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as someone else who enjoyed Hough's essay, one of the things I thought was interesting was the question she raised as to just how much of Mardoll was fictional. like obviously he was lying about and concealing some things, especially regarding his job and financial situation, but I always got the sense that he believed he was the identities he claimed, in the discourse he started, even if AM is not his real name. or is Mardoll the wholly constructed persona of a troll?

Obvious disclaimer that all of this is speculative -- I have no intention of or interest in attacking Ana Mardoll, and I'm certainly not going to try to "uncover" him or anything (I'm not as respectable as kurganfilledwithbearbones in this regard) -- but I digress:

I'm not on Twitter, and I'm not enmeshed with YA publishing drama, so thankfully I've avoided most of this ~discourse~ until I saw my mutuals' posts and then read Lauren Hough's essay. But, based on what I've seen, I can pretty confidently say that Ana Mardoll reminds me of other grifters I've seen, people who are similarly chronically online and inclined to lie about their identities. It's also interesting to me because, to an extent, I think lying to people on the internet is fine. My "real" name isn't Mia, but it's still what I say it is when I'm talking to people online -- I might tell a story and change some names or dates or locations, but that's still considered within acceptable parameters. The difference, I think, is that this kind of lying isn't making any meaningful difference -- a story about embarrassing yourself in a hotel hot tub is still a story about embarrassing yourself in a hotel hot tub whether the hotel hot tub in question is in Rome or Dubai -- whereas it's the minor details that add up. In all likelihood, based on my experiences with these types of people, AM started his grifting career as a deeply insecure and guilty person. He was, or still is, aware of his immense privilege, and it made him feel bad. This is also one of the reasons people -- almost always white people -- end up racefaking to try to gain or regain some misbegotten sense of "authenticity." Being your actual self sucks, so you invent a different person to become, and then you can manipulate your life the way you want it to be.

And the thing about these people is that they do, to an extent, believe their own hype. If I found out AM genuiely believed he was a righteous force for good, I wouldn't be surprised. Do I think that's how it started? No, almost certainly not, but it definitely ended up there. This really gets into a question of how we define the boundaries of trolling -- if your entire online persona becomes the troll, is Theseus's ship still the originally Argo? -- regardless of the effect. Neurological studies have shown that you can convince someone to confess to a crime they know they could not have possibly committed, just by putting certain pressure on them, to the point where the subject genuinely begins to believe they committed the crime. Human memory is fallible. Humans brains in general are complicated and confusing. If you don't believe your own hype, at least to an extent, no one will be fooled for long; authenticity can usually be sussed out pretty quickly, especially when you're in the spotlight.

So yeah, I have no doubt that AM viewed himself as persecuted, as underprivileged, what have you. I wouldn't even be surprised to learn that he legitimately believed (on some level) that he was entitled to all the donations he scammed people out of by claiming he was impoverished. Cognitive disconnect is scarily powerful that way! Much in the same way that purported leftists might watch a bunch of Fox News and then claim their hatred for Democrats has nothing to do with falling for propaganda. (To continue the political comparison a bit: Mehmet Oz was far less liked than Donald Trump, even though their political positions were broadly quite similar, because the latter -- for better or for worse -- is genuinely insane and believes his own bullshit to an extent that the former did and does not. There are a bunch of cool sociological reasons why authenticity can be perceived -- more or less reliably, although with noticeable and significant exceptions -- but this isn't the point, as cool as it may be.) Similarly, I have no doubt that hivliving genuinely believed, to an extent, that she was the person/people she claimed to be. Does anyone remember medievalpoc? Same deal: she felt guilty for being white and otherwise privileged, so tried to adopt a persona that could assuage her of her guilt. It's not even limited to idiots on tumblr -- Misha Defonseca, Rosemarie Pence, James Frey, and A.J. Finn all come to mind -- but social media has only made these types of people more obvious to the average person.

The bottom line is that people who engage in this sort of behavior are in need of serious help, and should not be encouraged or acknowledged, much in the same way playing along with someone's schizophrenic delusions is only going to make it worse. Hough was exactly right when she said that ignoring this is the best way to make it go away, because this is attention-seeking behavior. Deeply unhealthy, inevitably harmful (to the self and others), but functionally on the same level as a child making up an extreme lie because all attention is good attention.

#mine #asks #cardassiangoodreads

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sendouakira · 3 years

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Introduction to Basketball Intelligence

As we all know, there are many different attributes and a certain degree of athleticism that make up a good basketball player, including jumping ability, height, speed, reflexes, etc. But there is a key component that a great player possesses which cannot be measured and is often acquired only by playing the game itself. That key factor is basketball intelligence (basketball IQ). In this analysis, I would like to highlight the importance of basketball IQ and how Inoue Takehiko depicts this component in his work, the legendary manga Slam Dunk.

By definition, basketball intelligence is essentially "the ability to just instinctively play the game and adapt to any situation that comes up." These cognitive skills require a blend of on-field experience, technical skill, and game awareness. Basketball IQ pertains but is not limited to the listed skills below:

Ability to predict the next move of the opponent

Know what to do when not in possession of the ball

Ability to choose when/whom to pass the ball to

Observational skills of the game

Adapt to changes

and so much more.

Since this is a deep and very broad topic, I can only analyze a few scenes from the manga and this analysis alone is nowhere near enough to discuss basketball IQ thoroughly. Let's take a look at the first example of the first characteristic of a player who possesses high basketball IQ:

1. Ability to predict the next move of the opponent.

In the picture above, we can see that Rukawa can't quite shake off Sendou yet, since Sendou is able to predict his next action. This is purely from Sendou's on-field experience. He simply can tell when Rukawa is going to run with the ball. In this scene, we can also see how Sendou shifts from his analytical mind to pure game sense. At first, he's asking himself what Rukawa would do, then after seeing Rukawa dribble, his body instinctively has an appropriate reaction.

This is not the only example when players can guess another's next course of action in the manga.

In the 2 pictures above, Miyagi is also able to read Mitsui's intention without having to discuss with him their attack against Kainan beforehand. Notice how Mitsui intentionally stands right on the 3 point line, in this case, obviously wanting to deceive Kainan's defense that he would go for a 3 pointer.

2. Know what to do when not in possession of the ball

This attribute often requires a player to have an awareness of good spacing, when to set a screen, where to move if a teammate is dribbling towards said player, when to spread defense, etc. Let's take a look at how Akagi does it.

This is a very nice example of screen coordination. Akagi not only knows how to best take advantage of his large body but also knows when is most appropriate to do so. Since forward-center Yuradaira doesn't have the experience, height or strength like that of Uozumi, he's no match for Rukawa's extraordinary speed and skill. Thus, it's most logical to screen Sendou, and create space for Rukawa here because he would have no difficulty getting past Yuradaira.

Similarly, Uozumi also displays the same skill in the same match.

And then, there is Sakuragi, clueless as usual (lol, sorry, this is kinda funny, I have to include this here).

Here is another example of knowing exactly where to be on the basketball court.

Fukuda knows exactly where to run on the basketball court. He gets an opening and decides on the spot to do a cut in. Notice that he doesn't even look at Sendou to ask for a pass, such tacit understanding between these 2 players is very impressive.

3. Ability to know when/whom to pass the ball to

Perhaps I don't need to stress how important it is that a player knows when or whom to pass the ball to. Let's compare the 2 opening tip-off scenes between Akagi and Sakuragi.

Akagi passing the ball to Miyagi, Shohoku's point guard who is responsible as a playmaker for his team (and afterwards, he does make an excellent pass to Rukawa, Shohoku's scoring machine).

I don't need to say much here. Sakuragi's inexperience is plenty evident, thank you Rukawa for your concise explanation.

We need to look at incredible point guards such as Maki, Fujima, Miyagi and Fukatsu to truly appreciate fine plays. Again, there are way too many scenes to include in this analysis, so I will just talk about the ones that I happened to stumble upon first when I read the manga again for the 9th time.

Not much to explain here. Aida Hikoichi already describes clearly how fast Fujima makes decision when to pass the ball, or when to attack himself. He's very flexible and responsive to different situations that may arise on court.

Often times, players have to decide, on the spot, possible routes of offense to take (dribbling-penetration, shoot on spot, pass the ball). And just like Fujima of Shoyo, Minami of Toyotama also shows us a beautiful example of quick decision-making on court.

Although Mitsui correctly guesses that Minami is about to pass to Kishimoto, Minami immediately makes an impromptu decision to pass to Itakura instead. Even though Minami is forced to switch whom to pass to on the spot, his decision is very accurate since Itakura is quite fast. He's in a good position to make a shot and he's a lot taller than Shohoku's point guard, Miyagi.

4. Observational skills/game awareness

Of course, there are various players that demonstrate their extraordinary ability to "read" the flow of the game.

One such player is Mitsui. These two pictures are taken from the match between Ryonan and Shohoku to secure the last ticket to national championship.

Mitsui immediately realizes Ryonan's offense strategy (as nicely explained by Fujima and Maki), he then stops Fukuda, Ryonan's offense spearhead at the time by intentionally making it look like Fukuda is committing a foul. Such skills also require a certain degree of game experience and knowledge of offense/defense strategies, and it's worth noting that Mitsui is the very first player who notices Ryonan's guarding approach.

A highly intelligent basketball player also has the characteristic of knowing what is going on in all corners. More often than not, such a player has a high degree of game awareness that they may appear to focus on the opponent in front of them only, but it's actually the opposite.

Miyagi has the habit of looking elsewhere, but it doesn't mean that he's not paying attention to other players' movements on court. All in all, point guards (including Sendou, who plays this position once) often demonstrate this attribute since they are regarded as the conductor of offense in Slam Dunk.

Surprisingly, Sakuragi also shows that he has a certain degree of game awareness after 4 months of playing the game. In the match against Sannoh, he is instructed to observe the game once by coach Anzai, then immediately applies what he learns during the very same match.

Sakuragi figures out Kawata Mikio can only shoot under the basket after playing against him for a short amount of time. He is finally able to use some tactical thinking based on what he can observe about his opponent. He's very different from the usual Sakuragi Hanamichi who never thinks about his own plays or only uses his brute strength to win on the basketball court in the beginning of the series.

5. Know what play to make and when

This particular skill requires high level of strategic and game based knowledge. In my opinion, coaches in Slam Dunk are the ones that show this skill the best. Let's take a look at the beginning of the final match between Shohoku and Sannoh.

Coach Anzai decides to switch Shohoku's focus of offense from Rukawa and Akagi to Sakuragi. This has several impacts on Sannoh:

This change surprises most players in Sannoh's defense line, even coach Doumoto himself is taken aback.

Because of this surprise attack focus, Shohoku then asserts that it's not any basketball team that Sannoh has played against before.

Later, when coach Anzai sees that Sannoh's captain, Fukatsu still calmly commands offense and defense effectively in Sannoh's favor, he then utilizes Mitsui, Shohoku's second offense spearhead. It is clear that Anzai is very experienced and creative with plays. He knows what is the best strategy for each opponent and he's quite flexible when it comes to adapting to changes in play styles for his team.

That is not to say he doesn't value Shohoku's traditional style of play. In the match with Toyotama, he makes a claim that if Shohoku regulars cannot play as they normally would, they will not emerge victorious the next round. That is because as a team, Shohoku must feel comfortable with their own distinctive style of play first (Run&Gun) before they can even attempt another play style.

The key is: when to use Run&Gun, Shohoku's most preferred play style and when to switch to another style of play. Coach Anzai always seems to know what's best.

Another talented coach that also has great basketball IQ is coach Domoto of Sannoh. Although he's the youngest basketball coach in the whole series, his level of coaching is not much inferior to that of coach Anzai. Let's analyze the scene in which he calls a timeout in chapter 230.

It's quite unusual that coach Domoto decides to call for a timeout here, even though it's explained that Sannoh fails to take the lead. It's only the first 15 minutes of the match, and the score is 19-14 in Shohoku's favor; it's especially strange since Sannoh is not playing too bad (except for Sawakita who is not focusing on the game). Previously, Domoto decides to take out Sawakita and Masahiro to use Mikio, a first year player with no experience. Why call for a timeout now when Shohoku is still unsure of how to deal with a giant like Mikio?

The answer is because Sannoh players are not in the right mindset. Coach Domoto then makes a bold decision.

As stated above, he decides to use the first timeout because Sannoh players are not playing as they normally should. It's not the score that coach Domoto worries about, it's his players' state of mind that matters. Not only that, he promptly makes a decision to use Mikio as the new attack point since Sakuragi still cannot come up with countermeasures against Mikio. He uses this timeout especially to tell his players that they will use Mikio as the focus of offense instead because he hopes he can take advantage of Sakuragi's inexperience.

This decision is very reasonable in the perspective of a team that has dominated the nation multiple times. Sannoh needs to get back its own rhythm first, and its players need to grasp the flow of the game as they usually should.

Lastly, we need to look at the player with the highest basketball IQ in the whole series, Sendou. Near the end of the match between Ryonan and Kainan, Sendou realizes his team is in a desperate situation. His captain, Uozumi has fouled 4 times, Ryonan's offense specialist Fukuda is subbed out. Knowing that Ryonan would not last much longer against Kainan's defense line, Sendou intentionally lets Maki catch up with him, trying to bait him to committing a foul.

If Maki actually commits a foul like Sendou's calculation, Sendou will get 2 free throws, thus sealing victory for Ryonan. Even in case Maki doesn't fall for it, at worst, Sendou will have fought to a tie for Ryonan. It's amazing to see that even coach Takao and coach Takato don't really know something is amiss. The only people that suddenly realize what's truly happening at that critical momemnt are Fujima and Maki.

It's almost scary to think about how unfathomable Sendou's game based knowledge and intelligence is. Even Maki almost falls for the trap he sets out.

All the scenes above from Slam Dunk can truly testify that basketball IQ isn't just about scoring points. Elite players generally have an instinctive quality that helps them make quick decisions on the spot effectively. Through a few examples in the manga, we can clearly see the stark difference between a good player and a great player. And that difference is the immeasurable factor-basketball IQ.

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goblincave666 · 3 years

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analyzing tw personality types number 1: corey bryant - ISTP 5w6 sx/sp

hey thats his lacrosse number

so yea he was underdeveloped but i’m gonna try to explain my reasoning. i will probably also do liam, mason, theo and stiles and then maybe some other lads if i don’t give up at that point

also if you dont know what these numbers and letters mean: ISTP is mbti, ti/ne/se whatever is mbti theory, 5w6 is enneagram, and sx/sp is the enneagram subtypes. this post assumes you know more abt it so this is more intended for tw fans experienced with personality theories/personality theory tumblrs that happen to know about tw. cool? cool.

side note: trust me when i say i know what i’m talking about, i used to video edit & i have made so many scenepacks of this invisible fuck that i can quote MANY lines & tell you exactly what he does from start to finish. doubt my mbti knowledge, not my knowledge on side character lore >:)

auxiliary se

we’re starting with se because i can explain ti/fe in the same section & struggled to explain one without the other.

so people generally tend to characterize se as being physically active and aware of your surroundings which uhh isn’t it??? at all??? it’s just being straight to the point and surface level. of course ni helps istps with underlying themes, but their first instinct is gonna be to perceive reality without underlying themes. it’s just plain old vanilla reality.

despite corey consistently defying the se related stereotypes and playing right into the INxP inattentive can’t see shit in front of himself stereotype, he thinks like an auxiliary se user. when mason talks to him about the good guys vs bad guys dichotomy, he just mentions that he wants to stay alive and theo’s side seems to be the best way to do that. intuitives might pick up on underlying themes and patterns more, but corey literally does not give that a second thought. this could also be because of death “darkening his soul” or whatever the show tried to explain half-assed though.

so let’s look at more examples:

>genuinely getting absolutely nothing out of the schrödinger’s cat lesson multiple times. usually not being able to keep up with mason’s rants about things until mason directly explains what they mean. this might’ve been throwaway if it happened once, but it happens a lot. i know not being good at school has nothing to do with cognitive functions, but everything being explained to him are FIGURATIVE concepts, ones not based in concrete reality; xSxPs can find figurative stuff tedious or a waste of time.

>being able to 20/20 see how screwed up beacon hills is and wanting to leave immediately, not even remotely excited about the possibilities of the supernatural. like i know he got his ass kicked multiple times before he could even register that maybe the supernatural would be cool, but i think an ne user might be like “woah what else is there” or smth, even in a morbidly curious way. corey does not give a shit about that. he wants to leave because shit’s demonstrably dangerous as hell.

>”your friends aren’t my friends” is pretty surface level. like dude liam has been mason’s best friend for their entire childhood presumably, or at least since 6th grade. (to be fair liam was also being a douche. they were both douches. douche solidarity.)

>he literally disappears immediately with mason in 5x18. he isn’t taking any chances with scott after, i don’t know, scott claws him in the neck and generally doesn’t give him any help despite helping hayden loads. i’ll come back to this topic one day bc while i like scott as a character (but not a protagonist) this WAS a fucked situation in general. basically se>ne for this too bc for all he knew scott could’ve killed mason & he wasn’t taking his chances like an ne user might.

(please don’t attack me i’m not a scott anti)

>”i just wish i could help her, you know, to-“ — “be alone?” mason is clearly ignoring that lydia told him and corey to shut the fuck up MANY times when he was still there helping, and corey quickly brings him back to reality by saying she literally would do better without their help.

so basically tldr he thinks more literally and concrete than about possibilities than an INxP, even if he has stereotypical INxP energy lol

tertiary ni

so ni users have this thing called “ni tunnel vision” where they can’t see possibilities around them that might be actually viable. the same way si users are so stuck in what worked before that they can’t see what COULD’VE worked. etc etc etc. i have the most rusty idea of ni so if this doesn’t make any sense i will not be even remotely surprised.

but basically you NEVER see corey consider multiple perspectives or ideas. he narrows things down, and that’s the difference between ne and ni. ne expands and can get carried away with all the possibilities, ni narrows and focuses too hard sometimes. it “just knows” things and often doesn’t have concrete reasoning.

so some swaggy ni examples (forewarning, i am kinda grasping at straws. while ti-se seemed obvious to me, ni is pretty hidden & barebones.)

>being hellbent on leaving until he actually needs to stay to help at the lacrosse game, and even that took convincing from mason

>i know “hunches” are one of the dumbest ni stereotypes, but ne/si users might not even be able to catch onto hunches they have, and might think “oh well it just could’ve been this lol.” the fact that he’s sure some shit went down at the library in 6x2 & doesnt consider another possibility seems kinda ni to me??

>honestly the best point i can use to prove the existence of ni is that he uses se. keep in mind that i’m using like 30 minutes of screentime to justify what i’m saying here and ni is the least obvious function for him (and generally a really weird/hard function to spot anyways)

dominant ti/inferior fe

so while i waffle a bit with the n vs s dichotomy for corey, i know DAMN well he’s an IxTP at the very least because of the glaring dominant ti and inferior fe.

at the beginning of the show he tries as hard as he can to stay away from the supernatural. he doesn’t consider the fact that the others might need his help, and he doesn’t ask them for help either. he DOES come to book club, but states that he’s only on chapter 1, and after scott claws him in the neck he’s just about done with helping.

up until 5x10 he pretty much only shares stuff he discovers with mason. in 5x7 (i think) he does look into how the sting he got mysteriously healed, but it takes mason’s intervention for him to even open up about it, and it takes mason’s intervention again for him to try out weights before he subsequently dies. so he’s a generally uninvolved person.

he even tries to go off on his own from the PACK THAT RESURRECTED HIM & asks mason out, and is only thrwarted from this when theo threatens him with sort of a “i brought you back, i can just as easily kill you again” type shtick and then yeah i mean i’d help too. dying doesn’t seem ideal.

basically ti dom/fe inferiors stay pretty uninvolved and personally autonomous. they don’t need a lot of interaction, come off pretty introverted, and usually prefer to be left alone. they can actually come off mean/cold unintentionally, since fe is literally based in group values.

which brings me to my next point. he definitely does come off mean/cold unintentionally.

>”you like me, go out with me.” corey says as the guy he’s allied with literally almost got mason’s best friend to MURDER his alpha

>explaining why him and the others have to “leave” in 5x15 to mason very matter of fact. he’s sad, and he does throw in the let me protect you line, but anyone without feeling in the inferior position would approach that conversation with more tact yk

>”they’re just rumours. they don’t know anything.”— “they know everything.” liam literally asks corey why he only shows up when there’s bad news because he’s so blunt about the situation throughout 6x14.

>6x2 is a good ti vs fi conflict (with mason’s fe on the side since he’s inbetween liam and corey.) liam gets mad at corey in kind of a moralistic way, angry that he didn’t try to help hayden and mason more during the fight against the beast, when corey just remarks that he literally wasn’t physically capable of doing anything useful. & liam doesn’t take that for an answer at first bc he tries to do the right thing & he’s kinda stubborn yk. liam’s definitely more idealistic in that way, and i think it shows how matter of fact corey is by contrast and why he doesn’t really comment on liam’s feelings at all.

another interesting thing to note in the difference between INTPs and ISTPs: ISTPs are (stereo)typically colder. INTPs can actually end up seeming a little nicer/softer than ISTPs, because INTPs can use their ne to sense underlying social patterns, even if they end up awkward and scattered. ISTPs have the double whammy of inferior fe and se seeing everything as just the way it is. this is why “your friends aren’t my friends” and “you like me, go out with me” are very se/inferior fe examples. corey doesn’t see underlying themes as easily, and the inferior fe makes that even worse.

(also if any of this came out harsh, i literally have inferior fe too. this is me personally attacking myself. i will also roast the other characters about their inferior functions so dont you worry)

enneagram 5w6

i’m still considering 9w8 as a valid option for his ennea too, but there are a few reasons why i lean a bit more into 5.

first of all: triads!! remember that they actually do mean things.

what triads do 9 belong to? positive outlook, attachment, and withdrawn.

withdrawn totally checks out. he’s an introverted guy. he literally turns invisible when confronted. if that isn’t the most withdrawn triad shit idk what is.

but things get a bit muddy when we move into the other 2. attachment triad types struggle to separate themselves from others, and after what i discussed before, i think corey has the opposite problem. positive outlook types have a positive outlook. enough said. he’s pretty far from optimstic.

what triads do 5 belong to? competency, rejection, and withdrawn again. i’m damn near certain he’s withdrawn.

competency fits. reactive could kinda work too, but i think competency works the best. when stressed competency types kinda just work as hard as they can & focus on what they can do. corey doesn’t seem to fall into his emotions like a reactive type would, nor does he literally ignore reality like a positive outlook type. he also visibly worries about his ability to do things, like in 6x3 when he had to fight for the first time, and in 6x15 when he’s upset about having stood by while liam “got his ass kicked.”

and rejection is what sold it for me. his family seems neglectful, judging by the fact that they didn’t notice him literally dying. even if that was an exaggeration on corey’s part, you don’t say stuff like that about parents lightly, so they obviously lack some sort of care that parents generally provide. rejection types basically learn at some point in their childhoods that they have to fend for themselves and need to learn how to do that yk. 2s generally try to help everyone else & resist help from others (even if they secretly want affection back,) 8s refuse help because vulnerability feels like weakness and weakness leads to being controlled, and 5s observe the world around them and don’t know how to ask for help or reach out.

so about 5s in general and why i think corey’s a 5: despite lacking in the stereotypically intellectual area of 5s, corey is basically a stereotypical 5. they’re called observers for a reason. when 5s don’t think they know what they’re doing, they retreat. this is literally what corey did for the entirety of season 5 because he thought just being able to turn invisible wouldn’t exactly fare well against werewolves & chimeras and the fucking beast of gevaudan (who turned out to be his boyfriend poor thing) so he retreated. when he realizes he probably has to fight in 6x3, he’s openly insecure about this and needs a ton of reassurance before he can even try.

it’s why 5s sorta stay in their caves and don’t initiate things, they’re afraid of incompetence and stuff. he has no idea how to navigate this world that is already terrifying as all hell for him. 5s are also in the fear triad, and from what i can tell, he’s a 5w6, which is literally DOUBLE fear center!! we love to see it

i also don’t think he’s a 9 because he isn’t scared of conflict. physical conflict sure, but he has every right to be, and that ties into the competency thing. emotional conflict is completely different, and he’s never seen sugarcoating anything or avoiding conflicts to please people, which are hallmark 9 symptoms.

side note that may or may not be canon: so on the tw wiki i found a transcript for superposition (https://teen-wolf-pack.fandom.com/wiki/Superposition/Transcript) and it’s REALLY descriptive. like as an aspiring screenwriter myself i’ve looked for screenplays past 3A and been generally unsuccessful, but some of the descriptions in here are like more descriptive than the actual ACTING in the show, so i wanted to share a couple of them that definitely support my theory:

COREY: I didn't even know it went that high... I'm stuck at a 2.7.

[Mason immediately tries to comfort his boyfriend when he realizes how insecure he is about his academic life]

MASON: Liam, look-- it's not like chameleons are the apex predator of the animal kingdom. All Corey can do is disappear.

[Corey's expression darkens, visibly hurt by Mason's comment, and when Mason realizes what he has just said, he starts to feel guilty for his unintended rudeness. Liam, however, continues to reject their attempts to argue Corey's case]

like??? who wrote this and why is it so descriptive???

anyways if that was what was intended then uhh 10 points for gryffindor

and my w6 explanation. he seems a lot more security oriented and dependent than a 5w4. that’s the only reason. i also don’t really see much 4, although it also seems like the only possible heart fix, so even though i dont really believe in tritypes he’d be a 594 probably. merry christmas tritype fans

sx/sp

let’s look at what the 5 subtypes are so we’re all kinda on the same page because enneagram info on the instinctual variants are so painfully inconsistent that sometimes arguing with other people about them is like arguing with a brick wall because we’re literally going off different definitions.

sp 5: Very protective of personal space and privacy, this type sets clear limits and boundaries and is very comfortable living a relatively solitary life with just a few close friends. They would much rather observe social life than participate in it. Often truly introverted, they prefer not to reveal much of their inner self, finding it difficult to lower their guard for fear of losing their privacy or sense of safety.

sx 5: The typically cool, analytical Five connects to passion in this subtype, focusing that passion on one or two people in an otherwise reserved life. They experience strong ‘chemistry’ with another person, enjoying the connection and trust and openness this permits. They risk depending on this other person to make them feel vibrant and alive, leading them to ‘test’ their partner’s loyalty or resist sharing them with others.

so 5: The SO Five searches for the essence or meaning of situations, with a focus on the big questions as they pursue wisdom and knowledge. They connect with groups or experts who share their brilliance and high ideals, often disconnected from everyday issues or emotions. While sharing values and ideals with energy and enthusiasm, they may resist sharing space, time or inner resources, disconnecting from the people around them

so uhh yeah i think he’s sx/sp/so in that order. he is generally indifferent to having friends throughout the show but seems to really care about mason, and i’m sure if the show went on or we got a spinoff he’d eventually open up to liam and maybe even theo too. 5s are just guarded like that. i don’t see any so 5 so i mean yuh thats about it, it’s pretty self explanatory

conclusion

anyways this ended up way more rambly and long than i intended but if you enjoyed then hope you look forward to the other ones i may or may not write!!

#corey my beloved #i have adhd and i made this in 2 hours #my eyes are burning #corey bryant #teen wolf #mbti #enneagram #instinctual variants #personality theory #personality typing #character typing #fictional typing #typing characters #teen wolf mbti #myers briggs type indicator #ISTP #5w6 #sx/sp #goblincave666 personality typing

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magnus-the-maqnificent · 3 years

Note

(First things first I'm not a scientist or work/study in this field so if anyone wants to correct me go ahead! ) also disclaimer I COMPLETELY agree that malec is completely different than twilight I just wanted to expand on the Warlock aging thing.

Um a question. Is it confirmed that the brain stops aging? Because that just honestly doesn't sound right. We know that the body stops aging and that hair stops growing but I feel like while the brain will stop aging at some point it would almost have to be 25 for everyone (almost because well this is more of a theory)

But why do u say that? Well that us the age that the brain is fully developed and no matter how smart a teenager is the rational part of the brain isn't developed yet and good judgment isn't going to be something that teens excel at. I mean it may sound harsh but it is the truth. Yes teens are intelligent and can think for themselves BUT especially today we basically view teens as fully capable of ALL the things an adult is capable of and it's just not true and no this is not about experience.

In fact, recent research has found that adult and teen brains work differently. Adults think with the prefrontal cortex, the brain’s rational part. This is the part of the brain that responds to situations with good judgment and an awareness of long-term consequences. Teens process information with the amygdala. This is the emotional part.In teens' brains, the connections between the emotional part of the brain and the decision-making center are still developing—and not always at the same rate. That’s why when teens have overwhelming emotional input, they can’t explain later what they were thinking. They weren’t thinking as much as they were feeling.

-university of Rochester medical centre

What does this have to do with warlocks(and other immortals)? Well this does prove that the brain does age still but differently. Because while everyone makes emotional decisions from time to time immortals are usually the ones described are the wisest or most rational (and literally Magnus is dubbed the wise one in the cards cj made when she made the 7 vices and virtues series I think it was called) and that can't exactly happen in the brain isn't fully developed because while everyone can make emotional AND rational decisions there is still a very big difference. It is literally one of the reasons why teens a criticized so much "why did you do that" " teens these days can't think" etc .

Also an aging brain is when the cognitive parts of the brain start failing. But also for a lot of people they become bitter. One part of the description about warlocks is this

Warlocks are immortal beings. At one point in their lives, they stop aging—which point exactly will depend on their demon parent.At one point, however, after an unspecific but long duration of time, warlocks, like most immortal or long-lived beings such as Silent Brothers, can "fade" and "petrify"—when they grow bored or unsurprised by life and stop looking forward to their years ahead,when the weight of their long lives settle on them, they may begin to lose their minds,and/or stop feeling and living, in all other essences of the word except literally.

So basically what I'm saying is that the brain of a Warlock and other immortals. Like it's WAYYYY slower after the stopping of aging but solitude makes is faster(the codex talks a bit about that in the oldest known warlocks and in the bane chronicles about Nix ). But the point is especially warlocks are big critical thinkers. The magic is basically fused with science. We see Magnus become frustrated with shadowhunters all the time when they are reckless (literally just saw it with Julian and Emma in sobh) and while Magnus himself acts emotionally from time to time too and could be attributed to physically being 19 (like saving ragnor with the swords in tlbotw and jumping to save every bleeding heart at the drop of a hat) but when you compare him to an actual 19 year old he is wayyyy more rational and again that is not JUST experience because it is proven that rationality just isn't something you learn at any age but something that is developed in the brain in the mid 20s. So I guess that when it comes to Magnus in particular I can't say that his brain is or isn't completely developed BUT standing next to the shadowhunters who physically are usually around his age and because of shadowhunter culture are supposed to age quicker so 18 year old act like 30 year olds sometimes these 16-20 year old shadowhunters are still obviously way younger mentally than Magnus.

Maybe only immortal exception is vampires because they are dead and their bodies are literally corpses when you think about it so it is improbable for their brains to age, plus there is that thing that vampires are regarded as the biggest prima donas and the biggest partiers. We can see how they act during the party in tid, the coke craze Magnus had to stop in the bane chronicles, literally the water that the downworlder-shadowhunter alliance was crated was Alec calling Lili out on just being emotional and not bringing actual decisions and important stuff to the table.

Sooo yeah anyway sorry it kind of turned into a big rant...I hope you don't mind

Hello there!

It hasn’t been confirmed that a warlock’s brain stops aging along with the rest of them anywhere in canon, but it’s an easy assumption to make. If a warlock’s brain aged similar to a normal human being’s, it would mean that their brain cells would start dying out as they age and nearly every warlock would have dementia, or at the very least their would degenerate as they grew older, which is obviously not the case.

But after reading this, I agree and- yeah! It makes sense that warlock’s brains would age much slower instead of completely freezing like the rest of them (also, I don’t think hair growth completely stops?? Cause Magnus is mentioned to have stubble a couple of times, most notably in the qoaad proposal scene, and that wouldn’t entirely be possible if hair growth stops?? Or maybe it’s just an inconsistency ksksksk) ANYWAY back to the point - in trsom we see that Magnus creating the Crimson Hand cult was mainly emotionally driven (he’s hurting, he wants to lash out at his father, tsc.) but at the beginning of trsom, he makes it clear that he would never start a cult, even as a joke (and he has no recollection of his memories of the crimson hand, so this isn’t a learning through mistakes situation). There’s clearly some growth in those couple of hundred years 🤔

I think part of Warlock’s ‘petrifying’ also has a lot to do with their mental health tbh. A person living in solitude, especially for several years will obviously have a different mental state than someone who isn’t. And warlocks obviously lead very difficult lives, which can often be detrimental for their mental health.

At the same time, this is very complicated tbh 😂 Magnus is the only warlock that we know for sure who stopped ageing as a teenager (19 counts as a teenager, right???). Everyone else, including Tessa, stopped aging when they were adults, and they all seem more mature than Magnus. (There’s also Hypatia and Malcolm but we don’t know exactly when they stopped ageing, so yeah)((if it was mentioned, then I don’t remember it ksksksks). But Magnus is somehow BOTH mature and wise, and sometimes emotionally driven and reckless. 🤔 I still do think part of his wisdom is all the things he’s seen and experienced, which is all far more than any of us could comprehend.

I feel like I need to a lot of research at this point tbh - go through all the scenes with Magnus and chronologically date them and correlate them with his age and dissect his thought process and shit before I come to a conclusion about how his brain is aging 😭😭😭

Kskskkk this post is all over the place I’m so sorry about that 😅

But you don’t have to be sorry!! I love a good discussion about warlock anatomy :) also, that study about adult brains vs teenage brains sounds very interesting! 👀

#I wish Magnus was a real person right now #I wanna dissect his brain and study it ksksksk #I’ll get on that research… at some point #magnus bane #tsc #asks #blues and then purple pink asks

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treenissanderssidesstuff · 3 years

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Flawed Logic

Chapter 1: Everybody's Favorite Side

Main Pairing: Analogical

Trigger Warning: self-harm

Ao3 Link

Summary: Logan writes.

Logan wasn’t sure how this got started. Okay, that wasn’t quite true. He knew this traced back to the days of childhood, an innocuous punishment meant to force a point on a young mind. Logan supposed the better question was, how did it get this far?

The Logical side stretched the fingers in his left hand, out and in, out and in, twirling his wrist joint to work back in some feeling.

He felt…fuzzy. Like he was underwater. Logan knew there were voices speaking around him. He was aware he was in Thomas’ living room, called once again for god-knows what reason. Logan certainly didn’t. He could barely keep focused enough to stay upright, much less put in the effort to care about what was going on around him. It’s not like it was anything new. It never was these days. It was just more of the same shit cycling over and over again, making it a pointless venture to give his own opinions anyway. He’s given them before and they certainly weren’t listened to in previous cases. Instead he simply let the voices wash over him like raindrops in the imagination, pouring over him as he sought out the storm. He had taken up standing in the center of it all, letting the cold H2O molecules fall against his figmented skin and freeze him to his very core.

It was the only thing that made his thoughts feel clear recently.

“-gan? Logan?” A voice cut through the undefined ringing in his ears.

He jerked to the sound of his own name, turning toward the speaker without even intending to. His eyes met purple.

“Lo, you okay?” a quiet voice murmured underneath Roman’s latest monologue that had only been interrupted by Janus’ occasional quips.

Patton tried his best to keep the peace between everyone under their new arrangement. Since the Deceitful side’s entrance to the (as Roman dramatically puts) “lightsides,” Patton had been making an extra effort to try and calm the turbulence Janus had caused with Roman and Virgil. Outside of dilemmas, Logan hardly saw the heart anymore. As things currently stood however, it seemed nearly impossible that any kind of harmony could be found between Roman and Janus. They had apparently each taken recent events quite personally and refused to listen to any sense when it came to trying to set aside differences for their common goal of helping Thomas. The arguments were almost silly at this point because the pair nearly always wanted the same thing but refused to listen to each other.

Logan sighed and took the time to simply rub his eyes beneath his glasses and returned them to their rightful place before focusing his attention back to Virgil.

“I am fine Virgil. Thank you for asking. I am simply fatigued by the circular progression of the conversation and looking forward to it’s conclusion,” Logan replied back dryly, not bothering to lower his voice the way Virgil had. He wasn’t ashamed of his own ire. Had any of the other sides asked him about his current state of being, he would have replied the same.

“Oh look! Everyone’s favorite side has something to add!” Janus replied, mockingly clapping his hands. “That never happens.”

Logan rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, clamping his mouth stubbornly shut as Janus dramatically gestured his way with a bright yellow glove wiggling in a half-hearted jazz hand. He let himself glare toward the snake side until the count of five, in which he let his eyes fall, causing Janus to disengage and the others to turn their attention away from him once more. Despite popular belief, Logan didn’t have anything against Janus. The deceitful side could be generally annoying and bafflingly skewed in his perspective, but he could also be insightful. Logan appreciated the few rare philosophical conversations they have had since his inclusion to the consciousness. He didn’t often agree with his counterpart, but he appreciated the engagement none the less. Janus had proven to be thoughtful and an interesting conversationalist when other factors weren’t at play.

When it came to Thomas though?

Janus was frustrating.

He was stubborn with his beliefs and logic didn’t always sway him away from problematic behavior. As hard as Patton tried, he tended to veer toward emotionally based arguments, which never held up against Janus’ thoroughly researched counterpoints, even in the cases Patton was right. In those cases, the emotional side just simply didn’t have the data to show why he was right. Logan did, but again, he wasn’t welcome to the conversation.

Roman wasn’t helping either. Mind you, he tried, but rather than actually focus on what Janus was saying, Roman verbally attacked his character and tried to eject him from the conversation altogether, leaving him to rot in caliginosity with the duke—not that Logan himself wasn’t essentially in the same situation.

Even Virgil hadn’t been much better in the beginning either, usually taking Roman’s side on what seemed principle alone. That had only begun to change recently, Logan noticed. He was not certain what had prompted the anxious side to quiet himself to Janus’ disturbance among the others, but he had. He watched, waiting for the right moments to provide input and counter-arguments, but rarely called Janus out for simply existing in the same space anymore.

If only Logan could have that kind of luxury all around.

But no, he was not like Janus. He would not push himself where he was not needed. It would be illogical to try and force an opinion or explanation where one was not wanted, where it would not be listened to anyway. That would be a waste of time, for him and for everyone else involved.

So no, he would not push himself where he was unwanted.

The current thread of conversation had moved on without him anyway, as was usually the case as of late. Logan let himself breathe a sigh of both relief and disappointment, the feelings mixed uncomfortably in his stomach. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to refocus his breathing and get through the moment of uncomfortable lurching. As it slowly passed, he pressed himself against the wall of the stairwell, knowing the others were too wrapped up in the snake and the prince’s current discourse to pay him any mind.

“Lo, you sure you’re okay?” a slightly rough voice muttered from his right.

All except Virgil.

Virgil was watching him.

Logan would have to be more careful around him in the future.

“I am fine,” Logan muttered, trying not to drawl attention his way again. His muscles wanted to droop and a fog swirled around his brain, clogging up every spare bit of space he had for cognitive functioning. He just felt much too tired to be a part of the conversation anyway. Perhaps it was favorable that he was excluded.

He only wanted to give them his best.

“Really? It’s just…” Virgil said, fiddling with the hem of his jacket. His lips were parted just slightly, as if he were holding the words he wanted to say on his tongue, but wasn’t sure if he should say them. “You just… you have some anxiety at the edges… I can see it sparking around you a bit.”

“The continuous arguing is just beginning to aggravate me, you need not worry.”

Virgil frowned at him, narrowing his eyes, but seemed to accept the sentiment and after a hesitant moment, he nodded. Logan tipped his forehead forward just slightly and letting his feet fall away from himself to sink out of reality, watching a wince come over Virgil’s face as Logan let himself fall away. He should have left ages ago. There was no point in staying when Logic was ejected from the conversation.

With a heavy sigh and a hand running through frustratingly floofy locks that constantly made a point to obstruct his vision, Logan pushed his bangs aside for the umpteenth time and let himself slump into his desk chair, just taking a moment for himself to breathe. Strictly speaking, it wasn’t something he had to do but as human as Thomas pictured them, it certainly made him feel better sometimes. There was a heaviness to him. His shoulders wanted to droop until he sagged into his chair and slowly melted away into the metaphysical floor beneath him. However, Logan did not allow himself such folly. He buried those urges to instead sit straight in his chair, shoulders back, and feet apart for proper posture as he grabbed a notebook that had recently taken permanent residence on his desk. After locating his smoothest pen, Logan pressed pen to page. It was his favored study method when trying to drill in some concepts he needed to understand.

I am not the favorite side. I am not the favorite side. I am not the favorite side. I am not the-

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #analogical #logan sanders #virgil sanders #angst #tw self-harm #logan angst #logan pov

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drummergirl231-2 · 4 years

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Happy Autism Awareness/Acceptance Day 2020!

To me, true awareness and acceptance go hand-in-hand. I still don’t mind the word “awareness,” since most people, even people who think they’re spreading Autism awareness, aren’t totally aware of what it is or what it’s like. But I also love calling it Autism Acceptance Day, because that’s what we need more than anything.

To spread some awareness, I’d like to address some misconceptions about Autism and share some other thoughts I wish people knew/understood.

1. Autists/Aspies do not lack empathy.

I found this thing and it explains it super well so I’ll just leave it here:

Imagine a scenario where you say something totally innocent and it triggers the person you’re talking to. They start flying off the handle at you and you don’t know why. But because they’re angry, you are, too. But since you don’t know why they’re angry, you don’t know why you’re angry, either. It’s crazy overwhelming and confusing. And you want to fix whatever you did because you don’t want this other person to be angry or hurt, but you don’t know how, because their all-consuming rage makes it really hard to think and try to put yourself in their shoes. Also, you’re scared on top of it all.

That’s what having high affective and compassionate empathy and low cognitive empathy is like. It’s not that we don’t care. It’s that we care too much, and all the super specific nuances of socializing are things we have to learn one at a time, through either our mistakes or others’ mistakes. These things don’t come naturally to us, but it’s not like we can’t learn. If I were to compare math to socializing, it’s like you all have calculators or other doohickeys to do all the math for you and we just have paper and a pencil... and no eraser.

2. Autism is not a mental illness to be “cured.”

Now don’t get me wrong, I am ALL FOR people finding ways to help us be able to deal with the world better, whether that’s a better diet, items to block out sensory stimuli or items that stimulate, or counselling that can help us navigate social situations and talk through anxiety and/or depression. But those things don’t “cure,” us because Autism isn’t a disease or something wrong with us. Autism gives us different challenges, sure, but neutotypicals have their own challenges.

The symptoms typically associated with “low-functioning,” Autism don’t necessarily have to be a part of Autism. Many non-verbal kids grow up to be verbal. That doesn’t mean they stopped being autistic. There was a celebrity mom years ago who claimed to “cure” her son’s Autism with a gluten-free dairy-free diet. He’d been so trapped in his head, he couldn’t engage with the world around him. She altered his diet and one day he laughed at Spongebob, and that was a turning point. He became able to interact with people and react to things on TV. It was a huge breakthrough. But he was still autistic. If you were to have plopped me down on a rug as a toddler next to a toddler like this celebrity’s son before his altered diet, you wouldn’t think I was autistic at all by comparison. But I was, and I am.

Autism is a different neurological blueprint, and yes, brain-healthy diets and detoxes can do wonders for us because it seems like our brain type does make us more susceptible to negative effects from neurotoxins. But if you think someone has lost their Autism just because “the bad parts,” went away... no. That’s not how it works.

3. Not everyone is “a little autistic.”

When I was newly diagnosed and trying to process it, someone told me something along the lines of, there there, we’re all a little autistic. But that’s not true. There are a lot of traits associated with this brain type, and yes, a neurotypical person can have a few of them. That doesn’t make them a little autistic. To be considered autistic at all, you’d have to have a large number of quirks plus social delays (not associated with excessive technology use), odd or repetitive behaviors, unusual and intense interests, communication struggles, and unusual sensory processing. Suppose you’re white. If you are white, this should be easy to imagine. Say an African American just told you about some of the challenges they’ve faced, whether it’s race-based bullying in school or racial profiling later on. Would it be appropriate to say, “There there, we’re all a little black?” NO. One, it’s false. Two, while all people struggle with stuff because to be human is to struggle sometimes, the struggles of different groups of people are totally different, and you can’t say you know exactly what it’s like or pretend everyone’s the same. We all have equal dignity and worth, but beyond that, everyone’s different. Don’t pretend differences don’t exist. Just value them.

4. Autism doesn’t have a “look.”

When I tell people I’m autistic, this is usually what I hear: “Wow! I wouldn’t have guessed! You don’t look autistic.” ...What does that even mean??? Is it supposed to be a compliment? Because if it’s a compliment I “don’t look autistic,” then that’s kind of an insult to other autistic people. Or do they mean it like, “I don’t believe you’re really autistic because I have a preconceived idea of what an autistic person looks like and you don’t fit the bill so I’m not going to give you grace if you act weird?” I don’t know. Y’all say weird things too, sometimes, ya know? But Autism doesn’t have a look. There is a sort of distant intensity in our gaze sometimes... and I can legit see it when Jim Parsons plays Sheldon Cooper, but when I see an interview with him as himself, it’s gone. It’s not a fixed feature of our faces, and a talented NT could totally put it on.

5. Autism presents itself differently in boys and girls.

You know how not a lot of people know the symptoms of heart attacks in women because mainly people only talk about what a heart attack is like for men? It’s kinda like that with Autism, too. Typically when you hear about Autism, you’re hearing about the signs and symptoms in boys. Even most pediatricians only know to look for the way it presents in boys, which is how so many girls don’t get a diagnosis until later in life, if ever. One difference is that, for whatever reason, girls tend to be better at nonverbal communication and taking hints. We’re mimics. Chameleons. We take on the mannerisms of those around us and who we see on TV as we force ourselves to adapt. Verbal boys might speak at unusual volumes or with an unusual voice, rhythm, or cadence, but verbal girls learn to mimic the speech patterns of others. Our special interests/obsessions aren’t typically seen as strange given our age and sex. For example, a six-year-old autistic boy might be fascinated by WWII. I was interested in fetal development. People thought, “What’s so weird about that? She’s a little girl who loves babies.” We often play with Barbies or other dolls long after our peers have stopped. It helps autistic girls process social situations. When I was shamed out of liking Barbies, I started writing stories in notebooks or in my head. Autistic boys usually struggle with social communication from an early age, but autistic girls usually don’t have any major communication struggles until adolescence, when relationships, platonic or romantic, get way more complicated. Since little autistic girls can mimic their neurotypical peers, and since some doctors only know how to look for Autism in boys, we tend to fly under the radar, causing that huge gender gap in diagnoses.

6. Mental illness is common with Autism, but NOT part of it.

I read an article by an autist in the UK who struggles to get help for his anxiety or depression because therapists have brushed him off, saying “Well, that’s just part of being Autistic, so it can’t be helped.” NO! Just like neurotypicals can be mentally healthy or unhealthy, Autistic people can be mentally healthy or unhealthy. Just because something is common for us doesn’t mean it’s how it’s supposed to be, or that it’ll always be that way, or that it’s part of who we are and we need to embrace it. People with mental illnesses should be embraced (literally or figuratively, depending on what they’re comfortable with). Mental illnesses should not be embraced. Ever. Because autistic kids and adults often face abuse, bullying, discrimination, and are ostracized, anxiety (especially social anxiety) and depression are common for us. In more serious cases, especially in autistic teens and young adults, dissociative disorders can develop. What’s worse, it doesn’t take much looking to find the dark corners of the internet where people, autistic or not, are encouraged to embrace their developing dissociative thoughts and feelings. I once saw an interview with someone who found healing from a dissociative disorder, and she gets emails every day from others with the same disorder she had who regret some of the things they were talked into doing while living with the condition and who want to find the healing she did. She said many of them are autistic and under the age of twenty-five. Autistic people with mental illnesses shouldn’t be talked into believing their mental illnesses are a part of them, or not mental illnesses at all, or something to celebrate and cling to. I reject the notion we should have to settle for being ill in any way. We deserve to be as healthy and whole as anyone else, and it makes me sick there are so many internet predators preying on us in this way, and that there are therapists who think Autism and mental illness has to be a packaged deal.

7. If LGBT people were treated the way autistic people are by the media, it’d lead to outrage. But it seems like no one is outraged on our behalf.

We’ve seen the news stories, haven’t we? A couple invites the news over to their house, upsetting their autistic child who then has a meltdown, the meltdown is filmed and aired, and the parents are just like, “This is what our life is like because of Autism. And it sucks. Pity us.”

There was one video I saw... I’m just so enraged by it, even after two years. A mother was praised for her open honesty as she vilified her autistic son and complained about how he ruined her life and how hard it is to go out and have people stare. I’m sorry, hard for WHO??? I don’t even want to go into the details. I know only sharing this much doesn’t make it sound like that bad of a video, it’s just... ugh. Guys. It’d be a whole separate post. I can’t deal with it right now.

If parents went on the news after their kid came out to them as gay, and wept and begged for pity and said some of the things this woman said of her autistic son (wondering what she did wrong that made her deserve this or that led to this or saying she doesn’t believe in God but finds herself praying anyway that God’ll “fix him”), America would call them the worst parents ever. But parents of autistic kids who do this are praised for their openness and vulnerability as they publicly shame their child.

Another time, after a mass shooting carried out by a teenage boy, the news reported that he was autistic and that might have contributed to the attack (there they go, combining mental illness with Autism as one and the same again).

If a pedophile were arrested, and they said on the news, “And we just got word that he’s gay, so that may be why,” there’d be a riot. But the news can pin autists as mass murderers and no one bats an eye!

All of May last year working at a clothing store, I watched as various departments filled up with pride t-shirts to get ready for June, and I couldn’t help but think,

Where were the Autism acceptance t-shirts in March to get ready for April?

I probably shouldn’t be so surprised with the media painting us as life-ruiners and life-enders.

I know it’s a vile and disgusting thing for me to be jealous of LGBT people in this way, especially since they have their own struggles, too. I just wish society had our backs and celebrated us instead of wanting us “fixed,” for their own convenience, ya know?

8. Almost all of us hate Autism Speaks, and those who don’t are probably just new. XD

I used to be all “Light it up blue!” as well (even though that seemed weird to me, given blue lights might be overwhelming to some people on the spectrum). But then I read something on their site that made me feel really betrayed, and down the line, I learned most autistic people hate them... some because they saw them say the opposite of what I saw they said. Basically we all have different opinions but Autism Speaks spouts whatever information their donors want them to (sellouts), and that donated money doesn’t go towards helping us, but toward more fundraising or research on how to prevent people with our brain type. I guess they’re not fond of the artistic and scientific advancements we bring to the table. They should change those puzzle pieces from blue or multi-colored to white with black specks because they want a world that’s vanilla.

9. Some of us still like the puzzle pieces, even if we hate Autism Speaks.

I’ve talked about this in a fanfic, but I’d love it if we could redeem the puzzle pieces, because they’re still a good analogy if you assign a different meaning. Autists and NTs are puzzling to each other, no sense denying that, but the more time we spend together, the more we start to understand each other. Also, Autism does have a lot of pieces, and figuring out I was autistic was like solving the puzzle of my life. The missing pieces came together and things became clearer and made more sense. Also also, some autistic people are really good at puzzles. And then there are autists like me who aren’t necessarily good at puzzles, but get totally absorbed in working on them anyway (my parents have been doing some puzzles during the quarantine lol they’re traps! TRAPS I SAY!!!).

Nevertheless, I understand why other autistis don’t like the puzzle pieces and prefer the rainbow infinity symbol, and I quite like it, too. It’s very pretty, and the way the colors fade together is a nice symbol of how it’s a spectrum.

It’s a sign of the infinite possibilities in our lives when we’re empowered, because we can do and have done good and great things in the world.

#autism acceptance day #autism awareness day #autism #asperger's syndrome #self-advocacy #I'm like hecka impressed if you read all this

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dumbkombuchakid · 4 years

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I’m finding more and more that mindfulness and awareness play a massive role in everything. All the growth I’ve undergone has been rooted in cultivating those skills in myself.

Getting curious instead of judgmental, asking questions and being objective, letting go of outcome and expectations. All of these things seem tiny and maybe insignificant on paper; but in practice have made all the difference for me.

This past Thursday, I met with my therapist (as I usually do on Thursdays) and she told me she was proud of me. I am so grateful for that feedback, for her helping to contribute to my awareness of myself. Awareness extends beyond the present moment, it encompasses patterns and trends and habits and intentions and consequences. It informs decisions and aids processing and understanding. Awareness is the key to it all.

She commended me for staying in wise-mind while telling her about a situation that was upsetting me. She noted that though I had the opportunity to allow my emotions to take control, to pull me into a spiral, I made a choice to remain in control. That’s not what I would’ve done a year ago. That might not even be what I would’ve done a few months ago. Her providing that feedback about my new patterns and trends, specifically my ability to abstain from following old, maladaptive patterns and trends, brought that new data into my awareness. It’s very difficult to be cognizant of your own patterns. It requires parallel processing of data about several versions of yourself in different but comparable situations across a timeline. That’s not a skill that comes naturally; that depth of data about each version of ourselves just isn’t stored.

I am proud of myself. I’m proud of my ability to say that I’m proud of myself; proud of my capacity to believe that I’m proud of myself. For the larger majority of my life (I’m talkin 1st 19 years) I refused to allow pride to penetrate my consciousness. I grew up fearing that I’d slip into narcissism and lose who I was, instead developing into some spawn of my father; a figure I’d associated with all things self-centered and antisocial. Any shred of pride or self-esteem was too great a risk; I’d rather be humble and miserable but secure in my pro-social self-appraisal. I vividly remember the day I felt true self worth for the first time. It was in june, a month before I’d turn 20. That day came a few years after another significant (in hindsight) day when I began working with my current therapist. I fear I may accidentally catalog the past several years here for the sake of clarity and continuity, but the main takeaway point is that I’ve undergone immense growth, all a result of my own innervism.

Innervism is a term I’m borrowing from Elizabeth Lesser, the author of the book Cassandra Speaks. It refers to inward awareness and intentional growth. Tuning in to tune up. If not for facing the things about myself that I didn’t want to get true, I’d never have reached a point where I’m able to act with intention and display a self of whom I’m proud.

I’m far from perfect, and I’ve made a personal vow to never stop growing, learning, listening, and adapting. I will never reach my final form; there is always room for growth.

My point in writing right now is to address some of the cognitive behaviors I’ve noticed myself exhibit when in relationships. In the beginning, when things are wonderful and new and affection has a strong presence, I latch on. I start to fantasize about the future and how my life could play out with this other individual by my side, treating me the way they do at the beginning.

This tendency to idealize based on that first impression, that best-behavior scenario, extends into the period when things begin to slip. When the negligence begins, when manipulative tactics begin being employed. When I am expected both to change myself and also to unilaterally accept the other’s lack of change. I am projected to grow into a mould that aligns with their current state, rather than the two of us developing into a new shape, together.

Internally, this is accompanied by a fear of communicating my feelings. A hesitation to go against the grain and a tendency to shrink and abide by these new terms of engagement. I get quiet and small and they become all powerful. I am aware of the red flags and harm and damage and yet I remain docile and strive for perfection in their eyes.

This is how I’ve always done it, it’s how I’ve been conditioned to behave in relationships. I’ve been conditioned to accept that A) there will be a power imbalance and B) it will not favor me.

I no longer accept that. Today I did something that past me would not have done.

A few important things to note about the situation that allowed me to make this development are that:

1. my “picker” is getting pickier. I’ve always fallen into relationships with narcissists in the past, not because I chose them, but because they chose me and I only knew how to go along. This time, in my current relationship, I made a choice as much as they did. The quality of their character actually had a chance to play a role in deciding whether or not the relationship was worth pursuing.

2. I trust them. I trust that they care about me and want this to work. I trust that they want me to be happy and healthy and that they’re willing to grow.

We didn’t talk much today because he had a big day of doing things that I won’t get into, but then tonight when we did finally get to talk, we spent a long time discussing his day in depth and then never shifted to talking about me. Instead, he started multitasking and doing other things and talking and singing to himself. I told him if he wanted to do those things that was fine, but if we were going to be on the phone that I wanted to him to talk to me, to pay me attention. This didn’t actually turn a result, which hurt me.

Eventually, he got tired and said he was going to turn in, and wished me a goodnight. I said goodnight too, without my typical enthusiasm or affection, and he noticed that those were missing. Instead of asking why though, he simply told me to say it like I meant it, since he didn’t believe me. He has a tendency to make jokes when I’d really rather he be serious, and I’ve stopped laughing along and instead stay true to the tone I want to be received. I don’t want to diminish the weight and value my thoughts and feelings deserve. I’ve decided to not accept less than I deserve.

We hung up and I journaled a bit and felt myself getting worked up, and this is where I did a few things I’m proud of.

I called him back. He didn’t answer, so I recorded a snapchat video and told him how certain aspects of our conversation made me feel, and how I had realized that if I didn’t tell him then he’d have no way to know that those things had hurt and upset me.

This was honestly terrifying, and sending it (and not getting an immediate response) made me feel a whole other type of awful.

I decided to set a timer for 15 minutes and meditate. During my meditation, I focused on a few things. I repeatedly reminded myself that I must let go of outcome; remind myself that I spoke only about my feelings and my feelings deserve to be heard. Silencing all the spiraling thoughts about the conversations that could follow was hard, and I noticed the colors in my awareness shift as more potential outcomes forced their way in. I repeated the mantra “I deserve love” to myself and focused hard on not allowing expectations or theories about what could or may happen in. Those things aren’t real, they’re imagined. I forced myself to choose to refrain from processing events until an event actually occurred.

15 minutes passed and I felt a little lighter. Part of me still really just wanted to cry, but then eventually I got a notification. He said he was sorry, that it was more of a mental hiccup than a true representation of how he feels.

I thanked him - intentionally rerouting from a typical path of saying “it’s okay�� in response to an apology. I then wished him sweet dreams and told him we’d talk tomorrow, and I meant it.

It was uncomfortable, I’ll admit. It’s never fun to confront something that hurts you, especially when it’s something or someone that you don’t want to lose. During my meditation I had to remind myself that if someone doesn’t value my feelings or have respect for me, then they aren’t the person I should be with. That’s terrifying - holding people to a higher standard. Choosing to not accept less than what I deserve is something almost completely foreign to me and is fucking scary, but it’s also sort of exhilarating. The idea that mutual respect is now a requirement, that my partner needs to give a shit about me and express that through their behavior is something I deserve. I never used to think about myself as deserving anything - at least not anything good. But now? I put so much effort into who I am and how I treat others. I’m a good, kind, caring person. I know that I am because I do it on purpose. I think that qualifies me as deserving someone who treats me the same.

It’s 5am now. My sleep schedule is off kilter in a big way. I’m going to finally stop and allow this day to end. I’ve already made a to-do list for tomorrow and I hope the day brings joy. I appreciate you reading what I have to write; it helps me to do this and I hope it helps you to read.

Goodnight and sweet dreams, remember that you deserve love.

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themelodicenigma · 4 years

Text

Eh, fandom is weird.

For context, Misha Collins mentioned both Cas/Dean and Sam/Dean ships in a tweet, and I guess apparently people got offended by the mention of Sam/Dean? He wasn’t even comparing them, just mentioning ships within the fandom in a funny thing about Amazon or something. Like guys, they literally even made fun of Sam/Dean in the show—all the production staff should be pretty aware of all this shipping stuff in fandom.

This, however, does make me question the mindset here about those against incest shipping who do similar things.

Are people offended by incest purely by the premise of having romance between those who are related by blood (which to be fair is the ligeral extent), or is it offensive by having romance with those you just share a related by blood emotional connection [how people feel about/recognize each other] with?

At first, the answer seems to be strictly due to the blood relation. But then....why? And to be clear, the contexts of which people ship these kinds of things aren’t within the problematic contexts of which someone in real life would feel triggered by—we’re simply talking about people finding romantic potential between characters not related by blood but have this relationship regardless. Seeing how consistent people are okay with shipping those who solely have the emotional connection, who emulate the sibling relationship, I feel the real answer seems to be because a fan can’t reconfigure blood related character relationships in their headcanons like they want to without suffering that cognitive dissonance of platonic ≠ romance.

Which, this solely being based on the blood relation, is so....hypocritical?

This is where I start to question people’s logic.

Some people in any fandom have no problem shipping characters who only have the emotional connection of platonic familial relationships, that is, if they’re NOT related by blood. Then it’s good, then it should be "safe" to think about a “brother” being with a “brother” and.....

No wait, I mean two people who "don't" have that relationship.....in my head....

See, usually in both situations [blood related or not] you’d have people ship on the premise that the emotional connection changes. In other words, they wouldn’t view each other as brothers anymore if they were to be in a romantic relationship. Problem solved. Let’s write the fics.

But, for non-blood related shippers, if the real issue here is “don’t have romance with a sibling”, why would it matter whether or not they’re related by blood? To ease your mind if you do want to ship them? Since when has the biological technical really mattered for how people perceive each other and act upon that? Or how we recognize and use these ideas?

That is to say, can two non-blood related characters who have a canonical sibling-like relationship NOT be recognized by a fan? Absolutely if they happened to miss the information, but the understanding of the reality of the relationship should still be had once investigation starts. This all mostly applies to what actually is implemented (or logically implied) between characters, it doesn't necessarily count for non-confirmed emotional connections between characters.

At that point people are just arguing their personal perspectives.

But in a normal situation...how did you get there?

Especially in Supernatural, a show where literally Dean himself talks so much about how “family don’t end with blood”—this is one of the strongest, meaningful themes in the show. Why the hell should someone reconfigure the relationship if what is presented in the context IS a canonical platonic familial relationship in the first place? How’d you even get there if you DON’T recognize a sibling relationship as something with romantic potential?

You’re still shipping brothers for all intent and purpose—as they’re presented and meant to be identified as, something relatable to a real-life perspective and functionality. The issue thus is something that happens quite often in fandom, which is reconfiguring the context of the story and its characters for your own purposes. Which in and of itself isn't so bad, but doing this and then enforcing said reconfiguration onto others is really annoying, straight up.

It reminds me of the bullshit with Sesshomaru and Rin shippers back in the day for the first Inuyasha series—it doesn’t matter if you headcanon Rin as older, how did you even get the idea of shipping them when all that existed is the relationship between an adult and child? You’re shipping an adult Rin with an adult Sesshomaru second, but you’re shipping a child Rin and adult Sesshomaru first, otherwise the thought wouldn’t even occur. Who looks at the relationship between someone who looks like an adult and a literal seven year old and fantasizes about romance blossoming there? Especially when it follows all the patterns of the adult acting as a hogosha (guardian—parent sentiment)?

I don’t...

If what exists in the context is what it is, then that remains the basis of your ship no matter how you reconfigure it in your head. You saw that relationship and shipped it. You either just didn't recognize it or you're purposely ignoring it. But "not recognizing" it is a stretch for a lot of situations, and again, it makes me wonder how on earth you got there. Especially when, the process of shipping it usually includes the praising of the relationship as it is.

I don’t care as much about incest shippers as I would ones that are like, grooming scenarios. The latter severity there is much worse, obviously where contextually there’s no level where the latter isn’t problematic, and I am not by any means comparing the actual crux of these issues. What’s being compared here is the reconfigure shipping logic in the fandom—where the type of cognitive dissonance happening is the same with shippers rationalization for how they ship characters.

Shipping in general—I typically don’t care too much as long as fans aren’t trying to deny what the actual context is in actual discussions. You do you, I guess, that’s what shipping is for.

Which I mean, listen, I get the concentration of “eww, don’t be romantic with someone you share blood with”—I’m not exactly being an advocate here. But for me, my opposition is so much more based on the fundamentals of how we recognize and define those types of relationships to begin with. The romance concept naturally clashes with that of the platonic family relationships—it’s just a conflict of meaning. In which that's the reason you often see people recognizing the inherent platonic nature of sibling-like relationships, thus "they're like a sibling" is often used in real life as a deterrent to any nation of romanticism.

Just like with what Dean says, the above philosophy of recognition doesn’t “end with blood”. I don’t care for seeing incest anymore with people who aren’t actually related by blood because the existing meaning of family for an individual goes WAAY beyond that simplistic factor. Ya’ll know this.

But, apparently don’t care, I guess.

However, I just find this idea of being outraged by blood related incest shippers a bit fallacious when people also actively ship those who have the context of the emotional connection anyway—you know, something that is written and important for the characters, how they feel and perceive each other. Especially when you feel compelled to go after an actor for simply mentioning it, when like, they’re from a show that literally makes fun of the ship in the show. Really? Blood related or not, you’re both just creating headcannons that the way the characters feel about each other changes. You’re the same.

Now, stories that show a conflict with this, like one of the characters explicitly not feeling the same way, or if in the actual context, the deviation of this relationship is made—hell, I’ve read a manga where two people fall in love, but then LATER find out they’re related and have to struggle with the truth and their feelings—those situations are a bit more understandable, especially the latter in how we think about love. Some people find taboo/tragic/complicated relationships compelling, especially in contexts where the problem really is JUST the blood relation. I’m not really about it, but I can understand I suppose given the previous storytelling described above. But like, man, if the context is literally about found family and that is their relationship without any sort of complication......

For non-blood related shippers: Is the aspect of the blood REALLY the thing that bothers you? Or, is it really because only an emotional connection is something you can reconfigure without presenting a conflict for yourself?

If the way we recognize and appreciate familial bonds goes beyond blood, I find it odd that shipping philosophy doesn’t do the same. And then you get mad at others when you’re basically doing the same thing.

I just don’t get it.

Fandom is weird.

Anyone interested in my ramblings, I made a follow up post about recognizing relationships in media and such.

#shipping #fandom #supernatural #inuyasha #fandom analysis

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eldritchteaparty · 3 years

Link

Chapters: 4/? Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Rosie Zampano, Oliver Banks Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Fix-It, Post-Canon Fix-It, Scars, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, I'll add characters and tags as they come up, Reference to injuries and blood, Character Death In Dream, Nudity (not sexual or graphic), Nightmares

General summary: Following the events of MAG 200, Jon and Martin find themselves in a dimension very much like the one they came from--with second chances and more time.

Chapter summary: Jon and Martin head back to the Magnus Institute, where Martin goes on an interview outing with Tim and Jon starts to catch up with Sasha’s “statements.”

Chapter 4 of my post-canon fix-it is up! Read above at AO3 or here below.

Tumblr master post with links to earlier chapters

***

Shortly after Martin’s phone flickered to life, he found a lot of messages waiting for him—and they were almost all from the same person.

Are you ok?

Message soon please.

Do you need anything?

Answer when you can.

Still worried…

He glanced at Jon, sitting on the other side of the bed and looking through his own phone.

“Sasha been messaging you too?” Martin asked him.

“Yes. And I’ve got one from Tim.”

Martin had that one also. “Telling you to answer Sasha?”

“Yes—and calling me something I won’t repeat.”

Ok, so he didn’t have exactly that one.

“All right,” Martin said a few minutes later. “Let’s do this, then. I’ll message Sasha back.”

“Wait—what are we doing? What’s the plan?”

He typed out a simple message to Sasha telling her they were ok and he was sorry for not answering sooner. “We lie to them.”

“Hm.” Jon seemed uneasy.

“Did you… want to tell them the truth?”

“Well…” Jon thought. “Obviously, we can’t. I’m just concerned that—”

“Exactly. And even if we did tell it to them, they wouldn’t believe it.”

Jon still looked doubtful. “Martin, I’m not sure if I—”

“Look, sometimes there are good reasons to lie. We just need to keep it simple, make sure it doesn’t get out of hand.” He read the message one more time and hit send. “Anyway, don’t act like you don’t know how. You’re actually quite good at it when you want to be.”

He didn’t mean to add that last part; it just came out, and it came out bitter. He looked at Jon again and regretted it immediately. He had come to realize he much preferred Jon’s anger to his sadness, especially when he was the cause. He opened his mouth to apologize, but as he did his phone began to buzz. They stared at each other.

“Jon, I didn’t mean that. I’m—I’m sorry—forget it, ok? I have to—hang on.”

He answered Sasha’s call on speaker, turning away to concentrate.

“Hey, Sasha.”

“Martin? Are you all right?”

“Yes. I’m sorry I didn’t answer you sooner. It’s been—”

“How is Jon, do you know?”

“Yes, he’s—he’s with me. We’re both ok.”

“Oh, thank god.” Her relief was clear, even over the speaker, and Martin felt a pang of something in his gut. He hadn’t had a moment to consider how much he’d missed Sasha, how unfair it had all been, and how much it felt like she’d somehow come back. It would have been so easy to think that way—except their Sasha was still dead, and he may very well have been responsible for the death of the person she thought she was talking to.

“You do sound better,” she continued. “Look, I really didn’t want to tell you what to do, but—tell me you went to a doctor or something?”

Martin cleared his throat, aware Jon was listening to the conversation. “We did, actually. We did end up going to the hospital. I think we were maybe in a bit of shock after all.”

“No kidding. What happened? What did they say?”

“Physically, we’re—we’re all right.” He thought about all the blood again, and decided he should add a little more. “I mean, we were very dehydrated. They put us on a drip for a bit. And—and antibiotics, just in case. But they said we’re healing well, I guess?”

“That—that’s good. What else? What about—not physically?”

“Well, they did a lot of tests. The kind where they asked a bunch of questions. They didn’t want to call it amnesia, exactly, but we’ve—we’ve got some memory loss.” Experience told him the less specific the lie, the better. “Neither of us really remembers what happened. And it’s possible… we might have forgotten some stuff from before, too. We don’t really know how bad it is yet.”

“Oh. That’s terrible.”

Martin looked over his shoulder at Jon, who had crept closer to hear better. He nodded, and Martin turned back.

“It’s not great, but the good news is they don’t think there are any deeper issues. I mean, they’ve got us signed up for all kinds of therapy, but they don’t think there’s any—how did they say it—no lasting cognitive impairment.” Cognitive impairment was a phrase that maybe came to him too easily after caring for his mother; he felt like he was maybe pushing it a little.

“Well, that part’s good. How are you feeling, though?” Sasha asked.

“A lot better.”

“Did they feed you? Do you need anything? Can I bring you something?”

“No, that’s all right. We’re—actually, Sasha, we were wondering if we could… maybe come back. To work.”

There was a moment of silence on the other end, and Martin cringed and held his breath through it; he didn’t look at Jon. He might have gone for it too soon.

“You want to come back? Already?”

He exhaled quietly, away from the phone so Sasha couldn’t hear it. “They said the more we could normalize things, it might—help? I mean, I know there might be some issues rehiring us—but maybe if Elias hasn’t replaced us yet—"

“No, I mean—you know Elias, he hasn’t even taken you off payroll. It just seems… fast. Are you sure you want to?”

“Well, if you’re worried, we don’t have to come back right away.” Jon grabbed his arm and Martin frowned at him, shrugging him off. Wait, he mouthed. “I know we might not be up to our usual workload, and we’re going to have to take some time off for therapy and all… I’m really only bringing it up because they thought it would help, but it’s completely fair if you don’t want to take—”

“No! No, I don’t mind.” She sounded upset, and he felt bad. “That’s not it at all. And we could use your help, honestly, but I really don’t want to put pressure on you while you’re recovering. Do you promise you’ll let me know if it’s too much?”

“Yes,” Martin answered. “Yes, of course. Jon too.”

“Well…” said Sasha, “When are you thinking about coming in?”

Um… hang on.” He muted himself and turned to Jon.

“What do you think?” Then, before Jon answered, he added, “And do not say today. It’s already after 2 pm and that would just be weird.”

“Fine. Tomorrow, then.” Of course. He sighed.

“Sasha?” He said, unmuting the phone. “Jon says—Jon says tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? Really?”

“Yeah. Yeah, actually. If you’re all right with it.”

There was more silence.

“And I mean Sasha, I wouldn’t—I wouldn’t mind being around people. It would be nice.” That wasn’t even a lie.

“Ok. Sure, Martin.” It had done the trick. “Take your time getting in though, ok? And get some sleep tonight.”

“Will do. Thanks, Sasha.” He hung up, and turned his head slightly in Jon’s direction. “Happy?”

“Thank you,” Jon answered, putting an arm around Martin to press his mouth briefly to his cheek. Martin couldn’t help but smile.

“Yeah, all right. Just don’t exhaust yourself. Remember, you’ve got to eat real food and sleep real sleep now.”

“Mm.” Jon was already headed out to the sitting room where his desk was.

“What did I say, Jon?” he shouted.

“Eat and sleep,” Jon shouted back.

Martin grumbled to himself.

The rest of the day was spent washing the one set of clothes that he had, and going through the phone to learn what he could about his current situation. His passwords and fingerprints opened all the apps, but that didn’t faze him anymore. He was able to figure out from email and voicemails that the apartment building where this world’s Martin had been living had indeed kicked him out, but thankfully his belongings were being held in storage. He could pay two months of back rent and a late fee if he wanted to reclaim them, although it wouldn’t be until the following week.

Fortunately, Sasha had been correct that they hadn’t been taken off payroll—not only had they not been taken off, but Martin had been paid his full salary for the last two months. If he hadn’t already been convinced that Jonah Magnus was not running the institute, that certainly did it.

***

Although he didn’t successfully get Jon off the computer for it, he did manage to get him to eat most of a meal that evening at his desk. And while Jon didn’t get in bed at the same time he did, Martin was still up to hear him come in.

“Hey.”

“Sorry,” Jon said softly. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“No, that’s all right. You didn’t. I actually—something’s been bothering me. I wanted to apologize for what I said right before Sasha called today. About… you. Lying. I mean, we need to talk about it—what happened—but not like that.”

“Martin…” Jon shifted under the covers. “I want to talk about it. I do. You deserve that. I’m just…”

“You’re not ready yet.”

“Not yet.”

“I’ll—I’ll try not to push,” Martin answered, closing his eyes again. “I want to do this right. Or at least better than we’ve been doing things. Just… you try too, ok?”

There was a moment of quiet before Jon answered. “Ok.”

***

Going back to the Magnus Institute in the morning already felt much easier than it had the first time. It didn’t hold the same sense of discontinuity—it felt less like déjà vu and more like returning to a place he had genuinely spent a lot of time. Rosie was away from her desk when they arrived; Sasha and Tim were in Sasha’s office with the door closed, and they could hear muffled conversation through the door. Jon sat at his desk, but Martin decided he’d wait for Sasha before he even pretended to do something, and sat on the sofa instead.

“So,” he asked Jon, “how are you feeling, now that you’re here?”

“Good, I suppose,” he answered. “Well, not bad, anyway. I’ll feel better once I can start looking through some of Sasha’s statements.”

“They’re not statements, Jon. I expect you’re going to be disappointed if—”

“I just meant that I’ll feel better once I have some understanding of…” He trailed off. “Why do I need a pin?”

“Hm?”

“My laptop. I need a pin.”

“Wait, didn’t you have one before?”

“No. Sasha kept telling me to set one, but…” Jon sighed. “This would be a lot easier if we could remember things about this place when we wanted to.”

A thought occurred to Martin, something they hadn’t talked about yet. “Are you going to be all right, Jon? With Sasha being the archivist here?”

“She’s not the Archivist. There is no Archivist here. Not even me, right now.” Martin could hear him typing, trying different combinations of numbers, and could also hear his frustration growing.

“Hang on, let me try a couple things before you go getting all worked up.” He got up and went to join Jon at his desk. “And no, you’re right, of course—I just meant, are you ok with her being the head archivist here? At the Institute?”

“I don’t care.” Jon leaned back from his desk so Martin could reach the number keys. “Wait—is that the sofa that Tim brought in when—”

“Yes, it is. And it was a good idea.” The pin would have to be something Jon would easily remember, and knowing Jon, probably also too easy for someone else to guess. He tried Jon’s birthday; it didn’t work. He tried the street number of Jon’s flat, and that didn’t work either. “Hmm…”

“Well, I suppose professionalism isn’t as important when your entire area of research is—”

“Jon, hush.” Last four of Jon’s phone number?... Nope. He stared down at the keys and a wild thought entered his head. No reason he couldn’t try it, though. He typed the four-digit combination and was surprised to find that it worked.

“Oh.” Jon leaned forward. “What did you type?”

“I don’t know,” Martin lied. “I was just trying things. I don’t remember what I did.”

“Well, how am I supposed to get back in next time?”

“You’re going to have to change it.”

“I don’t want to change it.”

“Sasha’s going to make you change it.”

“How is Sasha going to know that—”

“Because I just saw Martin type it in for you,” Sasha said from the door of her office, smiling.

“Hey, Sasha.” Martin let himself smile in return—it was easy, if he forgot the last four years of his life. “Thanks again for letting us come in today.”

“Honestly, I’m already wondering if it was a mistake. I told you to take your time and really, it’s first thing in the morning.”

“Well, Jon just couldn’t wait to get back,” he said, reflexively rubbing the back of his neck. “He—hang on.”

He snatched the mouse away from Jon and clicked through to the screen where he could change his pin, while Jon did his best to appear extremely inconvenienced. “Oh, stop. Type the new one, I’m not looking.”

Jon grudgingly did as Martin instructed.

“So why were you so eager to come back, Jon?” Sasha asked.

“Oh.” Jon cleared his throat. “I, um…”

Martin interceded. “He’s actually been very concerned about—about the things you said have been happening here since we were gone.”

“I wondered if that was it. I’ve been thinking about that myself,” Sasha said. “I know you don’t remember anything, but the timing was just so… Jon, I know you’ve always been a skeptic—”

“And I still am. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation for everything.” Martin thought maybe Jon would catch on after all. “But it would be quite the coincidence if it were unrelated. I was actually wondering if I might review some of the notes you took during your—interviews.”

“It’s not a bad idea,” Sasha replied. “To be honest, I haven’t the slightest idea what to do with them. They aren’t exactly typical archive material. Maybe you can help me—”

“Morning, everyone.” Tim cheerfully disrupted the conversation as he slipped into the room behind Sasha. “How are we all feeling?”

“All right,” Martin answered, when no one else did.

“Great. Especially coming from you, Martin, because we are going on an adventure today.” Tim made his way to his desk and picked through a few papers.

“Oh?” Martin looked at Sasha.

“What Tim means is that if you are up for it, there were a few people who contacted us but couldn’t come in, and we haven’t had a chance to get back to them. I haven’t felt comfortable sending Tim to interview people alone, and well—it’s not really our job, and I’ve got more than enough actual work to take care of since—well, we’ve gotten a bit backed up.”

“What do you think, Martin?” Tim asked, waving the papers toward him. “Up for it?”

“Oh, well, I—I guess I could, yeah.” He glanced at Jon, who was suddenly sitting up very straight in his chair.

“Martin, I—are you sure?”

“I think so,” Martin replied.

“I’m just thinking that if something were to happen…”

“What—what sort of thing?”

“Yeah Jon, what sort of thing?” Tim echoed. They both turned to look at him and found him with a curious look on his face. “Oh look, if you two need to consult about this, please go ahead. Don’t mind me.”

“Yes, thank you, Tim.” Jon spoke through gritted teeth, indicating the sarcasm hadn’t escaped him. “Martin, just—come talk to me.” He stood up and took Martin by the arm, leading him out into the reception area and closing the door—but not before Martin saw Tim bite back a grin.

“Jon, what—”

“Martin, we have no idea what’s going on, or who or what could be out there, or—”

“Do you want Tim to go by himself?”

“Well—no, but—”

“Look.” He took Jon by the arm now. “I know we haven’t been apart since—well, not for a long time. And I know every time we have been apart, it’s been bad. But things are different now. This is different. You’ll be all right here with Sasha, and I’ll be with Tim and—”

“And with anything else that’s shown up since we got here. And if something happened, I—” Jon stopped and looked toward the floor. “I wouldn’t know about it.”

“Yeah, well, welcome back to being a normal person.” He squeezed Jon’s arm. “Look, if you’re really worried, I’ll come up with some excuse. But Jon, we’ve got to—we’ve got to try and be functional here. Plus, if you really want to figure out where things are—if you’re here going through the interviews, doesn’t it help for me to be out there? Talking to people? You know—like I used to do for you by myself all the time?”

Jon pressed a hand to his own mouth, thinking.

“Jon, I’ve got my phone.”

“Technically you had your phone when you went to look for Jane Prentiss.”

“Ok, I see why that’s not that reassuring, but do you realize how long it took for Jane Prentiss to—become what she was? And I will be with Tim, and—”

“Yes, you’ll be with Tim. Great.”

“Jon.” Martin sighed. “He’s just concerned. Ok, what if I—what if I look through the contact forms before I leave? Make sure I don’t recognize any names on them? Like—no bad names?”

“We don’t even know if it works like that.” Jon thought for another minute, but Martin could see his resistance starting to come down. “Look, I don’t want to… maybe I am being overprotective.”

“You think?” It didn’t really bother him to hear Jon say it; in fact, he got a bit soft knowing Jon felt that way, but it wasn’t going to help the situation to admit it.

Jon finally gave in. “All right. Do look at the names though—and if anything happens—”

“I’ll let you know right away. I won’t do anything dumb.”

“I know. Martin, I—” Jon looked up at him again. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He leaned down for a quick kiss, which Jon returned. “I’ll be fine, ok?”

Jon nodded, reluctant.

***

Despite another look from Tim, Martin did check the names as promised; there were only three for that day, and he didn’t recognize any of them. By the time they left, the thought of spending time alone with Tim made him more nervous than their actual task. He imagined that as soon as they were out the door, Tim would start peppering him with questions about where he and Jon had been, what had happened between them, or both.

As it turned out, though, their time together was quite enjoyable. Martin had forgotten how easy it was to be around Tim—that he had that thing he could do that just made everyone comfortable when he wanted to. They took the tube out to a suburb, and on the way, they talked about the weather a little bit. They talked about a new café that had moved in down the street a few weeks ago; Tim said it was all right for an occasional something different, but nothing special. They talked about what Tim had been up to in his free time. As it turned out, his brother Danny was getting married soon to a girl Tim absolutely adored. Martin suddenly remembered when Danny had come into town and visited Tim at work one day a few years ago, and he’d been amazed by how similar the two of them had been when they stood side by side.

I’ve met Danny Stoker. The urge to smile hitting alongside that awful catch in his throat was becoming a strangely familiar feeling.

Their first interview was with an older woman in her home. She had gotten in touch with the Institute after receiving their information through a friend of a friend, who’d heard a story from yet another friend. Martin really thought there wasn’t anything to it. Well, he supposed it was possible there was a ghost living in her television set that just happened to have moved in after her daughter had tried to help her set up a new voice assistant—but in all fairness, it seemed unlikely. The second interview was equally unimpressive.

Once they finished up, Tim made a phone call to their third interview subject, and announced they were headed back to central London. The man didn’t want to meet at home, but he was willing to meet them somewhere public; Tim arranged to meet him at a deli not far from the Institute. The ride back was pleasant enough, if a bit quieter.

“It’s getting late,” Tim said, after glancing at his phone. “We have time to eat first, if you’re up for it.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Martin was pretty hungry again by the time they sat down with their food. He supposed he’d missed being able to enjoy food, but having to eat multiple times a day was sort of annoying when it came down to it. He was just wondering if he should send Jon a reminder to eat, when he realized Tim was staring at him; he hadn’t touched his sandwich yet.

“Everything ok?” he asked.

“What happened?” Tim asked. “To you and Jon.”

“Oh, I—” Martin swallowed the bite in his mouth. “I assumed Sasha told you. We don’t—”

“Don’t remember.” Tim cut him off. “Really, though? Like—nothing?”

Well, here goes. “Really. Nothing.”

Tim regarded him thoughtfully. “We looked for you. Me and Sasha, we looked everywhere, for weeks. Well, everywhere we could think of.”

“Tim, I’m—I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” That was the truth. In fact, he was sorrier than he was going to be able to explain.

“Sasha took it really hard, you know?” Tim said. “I mean, you were at work when it happened. She felt responsible. Like it was her fault.”

That sounded familiar.

“It wasn’t,” Martin replied. “It wasn’t her fault. It had nothing to do with her.”

“I told her that. Every day. I don’t think it made any difference, though. And I’m sure it hasn’t really sunk in yet that you’re back.” Tim picked a small piece of crust from his sandwich bread and chewed it carefully before swallowing. “I mean, it almost seems impossible, doesn’t it?”

“What do you mean?”

“You were gone for two months, you left no sign of what had happened or where you were—and then you just show up again one day, making out on the landscape, covered in your own blood.”

“We were not making out,” Martin snapped.

“You were too,” Tim answered. “What’s that about, anyway?”

Martin didn’t answer him.

“Look, I have no idea what happened, but… I’ll admit, I’ve always wondered if you maybe had a thing for him. I mean, the man’s always been a bit of a wreck, and I’ve watched you defend him and try to take care of him ever since we all started working together. And it’s not like you got along that well, but I know you and it just seems like the kind of thing you’d go for. But I never thought—”

“You really don’t like Jon, do you?”

“What? No, I like him just fine. You know that. But I like him for who he is, and this just seems like… it seems like a lot after two months.”

“Tim, it’s complicated, and I don’t know how to explain it. You don’t—you don’t know what we’ve been through. What he’s been through, or what he’s—”

“I thought you didn’t either.”

Martin’s heart skipped, and then beat double to make up for it. “I just meant—look, I don’t know what happened, but I—I feel things I can’t explain. And I can say that it feels like it’s been a lot longer than two months since—since we disappeared.”

“Is that so?” Tim asked. “Just tell me. Do you not remember, or do you actually not remember?”

“I—I really don’t remember.”

“Why did it sound like there were quotes around that?”

“There weren’t.”

“Right.” Tim said. “Well in that case, I ‘believe you’”—he paused to make large air quotes— “and I ‘definitely won’t keep asking.’”

“Tim—”

“It’s fine,” Tim said as he finally took a large bite of his sandwich, then continued with his mouth full. “Whatever happened, I am glad you’re back—and whenever you’re ready to talk about it, I’m here.”

As hungry as he was when he’d sat down, Martin couldn’t touch the rest of his sandwich. He kind of resented the way Tim was able to keep eating. Tim had always been that way though, hadn’t he? Able to say what he thought without worrying about the consequences. It had taken on a different flavor after he’d found himself trapped at the Institute, of course, but even then, he’d stood up to Elias without any fear of what might happen. Even when he’d died, he’d gone out the way he’d wanted too—no regrets.

Martin wanted so badly to tell him the truth in that moment. Instead, he sat in silence and watched him eat.

A short time later, Tim grabbed a napkin to wipe his mouth. “I think that’s him. Our interview. Yellow shirt, black jacket.” He raised a hand toward someone coming through the door behind Martin.

“What was the name again?” Martin asked as he turned around.

“Hang on—” Tim pulled out one of the contact forms. “Here we go. Antonio Blake.”

Wait. Wait, there was something familiar about that name—shit. He’d thought about it too quickly that morning. He’d completely forgotten about the alias.

Jon is going to lose it when I have to tell him this.

“You’re—you’re Oliver Banks,” he said to the man now standing directly in front of him.

Oliver looked suspiciously from him to Tim and back again. “I didn’t—how did you know that?”

“I—don’t know. It just came to me.” Given what Oliver had to be going through, maybe there was half a chance he would find that plausible.

Tim gave him a look. “You know him?”

“Not—not really. Please, sit.”

Oliver continued to hesitate. “I’m not sure I want to.”

“Look—I am sorry, I didn’t mean to—I’m Martin Blackwood, from the Magnus Institute. This is Tim Stoker.”

Tim stood up and offered his hand in that easy, open manner he had, and Oliver tenuously accepted it.

“Please,” Martin said. “Whatever you have to say—we’d like to hear it. It might be important. Maybe we could… help.”

He didn’t feel great about himself for adding that last part.

Oliver slowly pulled out the third chair at the table and sat down. Martin didn’t know what he’d expected him to be like, but somehow this wasn’t it. He felt sad for this man. He looked so tired, but at the same time so ready to run. He reminded Martin a bit of Jon, actually, during the year after Jane Prentiss had come to the institute and before they’d realized that Sasha had been murdered. He supposed that made a lot of sense, the more he thought about it.

Tim spoke again. “You didn’t leave a lot of detail in your message, so—do you want to just walk us through what happened to you?”

“Well…” Oliver looked from one to the other of them again. “I’m really not sure you’ll believe me. To tell the truth, I’m not sure anymore that I’m not going crazy. I’ve—I’ve not been sleeping much, and it’s…” he trailed off.

“You don’t want to sleep because you’re afraid you’ll dream again.”

Oliver re-focused on Martin. “How do you keep—”

“It’s all right.” Martin said. “I just want you to know that I’ll believe you. If you want to tell us.”

They sat in silence for several minutes. Martin didn’t want to say anything that might send Oliver back out the door, and Tim followed his lead. Finally, Oliver spoke, quietly enough that it took some effort to hear him.

“It was a dream. Or it started with a dream. The first time, I dreamed that I was walking near Canary Wharf—I used to have a job there years ago, and—well, I don’t need to get into that, do I… The point is, I know the area. There were people around me, people I don’t actually know, like happens in a dream, but they all had these—I don’t know—tendrils.” He paused and made a motion with his hands, like he was holding something heavy. “I don’t really have another word for it. Like snakes, almost, but not alive like snakes. Just tendrils, everywhere, and they went through these people—like their hearts, or their heads, or around them somewhere. I really didn’t like it, you know, but also I think I knew I was dreaming. Everything was sort of pulsing and—and I was trying to ignore all of it, but when I headed home in the dream… Well, it was my landlady. She had lots of them, like black veins, running into her chest, or her lungs, really, somehow I knew it was her lungs. I woke up not long after that.”

Martin tried to keep his expression neutral. This was so much like the statement Oliver had made years ago in their world, to Gertrude, but it was also so different. Most obviously, it wasn’t a statement at all, it was just Oliver talking. That made sense. There was no Archivist here, either with them or in general, which Jon had so intently pointed out that morning. The words weren’t just pulled out like Martin was used to, thank god. And certainly, the people Oliver had first dreamed of in their world would have passed years earlier. The basic story, though, was the same.

“OK.” Tim nodded, scratching down some notes. “But I assume there’s more?”

“Well, the thing is—not even two weeks later, she—she died. Lung cancer. It was sudden. Undiagnosed. I’d almost forgotten about the dream, to be honest, but that… it shook me.”

“Understandable.” Tim nodded again. “So you think your dream was a—a warning?”

“Well, I mean—of course I was sort of struck by it, that day, but after a little time, it didn’t seem like such a big thing. She smoked her whole life. I know sometimes people know things they aren’t really conscious of, and maybe I just—knew she was sick. But then… it happened again. A man at the bakery near the shop where I work now. I barely knew him. It was his heart. And I—I dreamed it again. The whole thing. A week before it happened. And I just started wondering if—if every person I see in that dream…”

Tim frowned and looked toward Martin, which prompted Oliver to do the same.

“What do I do?” Oliver asked, and Martin swore a shiver ran through him—maybe it was from nerves or too much coffee or not enough sleep, or maybe all three. “I thought maybe you would—know something about this. Maybe you’ve heard of it before. Do you think—do you think I could help them? If I found them, if I talked to them—”

“No,” Martin answered. “I mean, I have heard of it before, and… no. You can’t help them. I’m—I’m sorry.”

Oliver worried at his lip. “I’m not—I’m not causing it somehow, am I? I was thinking that maybe—if I keep trying to stay awake—”

“No.” Martin shook his head. “No, you’re not causing it. You—you should know it’s not your fault. And if you sleep, or if you don’t sleep—they’ll still… they’ll still die.”

Oliver nodded his head, digesting the information. “So I can’t do anything. I just get to know they’re going to die, and I can’t do anything about it.”

“I’m sorry.” Martin wondered what he would have said if he’d had time to think about it. Would it have been any different? Would he have thought of something better to say, something that didn’t fall so flat the moment it left his mouth, something that could have actually helped?

Would Jon have said something better?

“All right,” Oliver replied softly, bringing Martin back from his thoughts as he stood up from his chair. “Thank you for listening. I—I think I’m going to go.”

“If you need anything—if we can help—you know where to find us.”

Martin wasn’t sure if Oliver even heard him.

“What the hell was that?” Tim asked loudly, once Oliver was out of sight.

“Nothing,” Martin answered.

“That wasn’t nothing. You knew that man. You knew what he was going to say.” Tim pointed at the door, waving his finger for emphasis. “And then you…”

“Tim, I can’t explain it right now.”

He turned his finger on Martin. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I don’t like this.”

“I’m sorry. I wish—” His phone, which he had set on the table, buzzed at him. It was a message from Jon, asking if everything was ok. “Let’s go back now, all right?”

Tim shook his head in disbelief. They didn’t speak on the walk back.

***

Jon jerked up from his desk when they walked in, which was now covered in numerous hand-written notes and manilla folders. Martin suspected he’d maybe been taking an unintentional nap. “How did it go?”

“Fine,” Martin answered. “Did you eat?”

“Not—not yet.”

“Here,” Martin said, tossing the rest of his sandwich onto Jon’s desk. “I didn’t finish it.”

“Oh.” Jon peeked under the wrapper. “You barely ate this at all. Are you sure you don’t—”

“Yes.”

“All right, well—thank you.” Jon took a quick bite and set it aside as he resumed reading.

“Well?” Tim said.

Martin ignored him.

“Are you going to tell him about your friend?”

“What friend?” Jon asked, eyes still on the paper in front of him.

“I didn’t catch his name, actually,” Tim replied. “But I do know it wasn’t”—he pulled out the now-crumpled contact form— “Antonio Blake.”

“What?” Jon immediately stopped what he was doing.

“Jon—”

“You saw Oliver Banks.”

“Oliver Banks.” Tim deliberately overpronounced the name. “That’s right. Thank you, Jon.”

“Tim—”

“How could you miss that?” Jon stood up.

“It was fine! Nothing happened. I would have—”

Jon didn’t even need to speak to cut him off; the look in his eyes was enough. “We need to talk.”

“Please,” Tim cut in. “One of you talk, at least.”

“In private. Come on,” Jon said, once again taking Martin by the arm. Rosie was back at her desk now, but Sasha had temporarily stepped out, and they spoke in her office with hushed voices, without bothering to turn the light on.

“Jon, it really was fine, I—”

“Stop.” Jon reached up to take Martin’s face in his hands. “It’s ok. I just want to know what happened.”

“Nothing, really. He—he’s had a couple dreams, that’s all. He wanted to talk about it. He wanted to know if there was anything he could do to—to help them. I told him he couldn’t. I felt bad for him.”

Jon closed his eyes and breathed out, then opened them to look at Martin again.

“Jon, I don’t see what the big deal is. I mean, what does he even do? He sees people’s deaths, and wakes up other people’s”—he paused— “Archivists.”

“It’s not funny. Or that simple.” Jon let go and turned to face the wall. “Martin what if—what if he had seen your death?”

“Well then—at least I’d know? I guess?”

“Or what if he’d seen Tim’s? Or—or mine?”

Martin could sort of see Jon’s point then—but only sort of. “Ok, but—I still think we weren’t really in any danger. Yes, I messed up, and I should have caught that, but—”

“It’s too dangerous,” Jon interrupted. “You can’t do this again without me. And—and neither can Tim.”

“Oh really,” Martin responded. “And why do you—”

“It’s not just Oliver,” Jon broke in again. “I found some things in the—in the interviews Sasha did. Do you remember the thing we called the Anglerfish?”

“Yes?”

“And do you remember Laura Popham?”

“Um—”

“She went caving with her sister and—”

“Oh, right. Lost John’s Cave.”

“They’ve… they were in there, in the interviews. Already. In just two months.”

Martin was starting to understand Jon’s reaction.

“And I was hoping it was just those sorts of things,” Jon continued, “and no… avatars, but if Oliver Banks is already connected to the End—”

“I see.” Martin stepped closer to Jon to put an arm over his shoulder. “All right, I get it. Things are happening fast.”

“Well… most things.” Jon sounded a little offput.

“Wait.” Martin almost laughed, but not because he found it funny. “Wait, are you upset because you aren’t connected to the Eye yet?”

“Upset isn’t the right—”

“Now who’s jealous of Oliver Banks?”

“Technically that would be envy, not jealousy—”

“Technically yes, but that isn’t the—”

“—and I’m not,” Jon finished. “I just—I feel like I know it’s coming, and I’d like to get it over with.”

“Right.” Martin rolled his eyes, but only because Jon couldn’t see it in the dim office. “So what do we do now?”

“First, if there are more interviews to be done, they could be important, but… we do them together. You and me.”

“There are. And… if Sasha is ok with it.”

“And then I keep going through Sasha’s notes. And then I go back before that, just to—”

“Jon, you’re going to exhaust yourself.”

“Then I do.”

“No. It doesn’t do anyone any good if you—”

They were interrupted by Sasha’s voice.

“Jon? Martin?”

“Yes,” Jon answered. “Sorry, I needed to speak with Martin, so we borrowed your office.”

“That’s fine, but you didn’t need to do it in the dark,” she said, switching on the light. “So I was just talking to Tim, and it sounds like today was… eventful?”

“That’s not exactly what I said, but I suppose that’s the polite version.” Tim followed her into the office.

“Well, I have something to report, too.” Sasha sat down behind her desk. “I know I said I was going to get back on regular archive things today, but… well, let’s just say I got curious, and may have found a back door on the web to access certain matters of official police business.”

“Really?” Tim’s grin was back. “That almost sounds like someone’s misbehaving.”

“I’d feel bad about it, but let’s also say I wasn’t too pleased with the way a certain missing persons case was handled.”

“Good for you.”

“Thank you, Tim.” Sasha did seem very pleased with herself. “But that brings me to my next point. Tim, I know you have some… contacts at some of the local police stations who might be able to—supplement the information I’m getting? I could use your help with that.”

“Sure, boss,” Tim said. “And that should work perfectly, actually, because I believe Jon was just getting ready to forbid Martin from going on any more interviews with me.”

“That is not—” Jon started over. “I would like to go with Martin on any further interviews, if that’s agreeable.”

“I mean—that’s fine, and I certainly don’t want anyone going out alone,” Sasha answered, “but what about catching up with everything here? It seemed like you felt that was pretty important.”

“I’d like to keep doing that too. I might need to put in a few extra hours.”

Sasha sighed. “I was afraid you’d say that. Maybe? Let’s see how you’re doing next week.”

“Sasha, I’m—”

“—already worn out, and a very bad judge of your own health.” Martin nodded in agreement, and shrugged without sympathy when Jon glared at him. “For the rest of this week, if you come in, you’ll both stay here. Jon, you can keep going through my notes, and Martin—would you mind helping me catch up on some of the filing and patron requests? I don’t even want to think about how far behind we are. Those other interviews have waited this long, they’ll wait a few more days. Especially if Tim is able to help follow up with the police angle.”

“Of course,” Martin answered. Even if Jon didn’t think he needed to take it a little bit easy, Martin was more than willing to acknowledge his own limitations—and sometimes Jon’s, even if it wasn’t appreciated. “Oh, and Sasha—we’ve got therapy tomorrow morning, so we’ll probably be a little bit late.”

“Good,” Sasha replied. “And for now, don’t take any of those notes home, Jon.”

Jon stared daggers at Martin, but he didn’t regret it—especially not after Jon fell asleep on him on the couch during dinner a few hours later.

#the magnus archives #tma #mag pod #tma spoilers #jonmartin #tma fanfic #my writing

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variantia · 4 years

Text

HEADCANON // YOON BUM.

Characteristics of borderline personality disorder / emotionally unstable personality disorder that Bum tends to exhibit.

Borderline personality disorder ( BPD ) / emotionally unstable personality disorder ( EUPD ) is a mental illness, often something that’s lifelong, which manifests with symptoms of unstable relationships, intense emotional reactions, a warped sense of self, and other long-term patterns that are often harmful or self-destructive. Bum ( in my interpretation, at least ) is affected by BPD in several different ways.

There are characteristics or symptoms of BPD that are possibly also explainable by the C-PTSD ( complex post-traumatic stress disorder ) that he also suffers from, but brief descriptions of characteristics that are probably a result of BPD, which affect Bum in his daily life, are outlined in the bullet points below. Read on if you think it may help you understand and interact with him more easily, or if you’re simply interested in how his mind works !

SPLITTING : Bum often views the world in black and white terms. People fall into vague categories like good or bad, kind or cruel, just the same to him as people might fall into specific categories like tall or short. Cognitive behavioral therapy is helping him break these thinking patterns, but it’s a process and he still falls into those things sometimes. When confronted with two opposing traits existing in the same person, such as a cruel person being kind occasionally, it’s difficult for him to accept that one person can be both. If that happens, he usually defaults to the first category his mind decided they were. For this reason, he can appear very stubborn and set in his ways and like he doesn’t want to change, when he does, and his mind just has a lot of difficulty reconciling the positive and negative.

INTENSE OR DISPROPORTIONATE EMOTIONAL REACTIONS : Bum seems to feel or express his emotions in a way that seems like an overreaction to most people. He’s depressed instead of sad, manic instead of happy, furious instead of irritated ; his emotions frequently jump to the extreme end rather than starting out mild and building up to the extreme. If someone does something nice for him that is very small, i.e. perhaps letting him go in front of them in a grocery store line, he feels as if it’s a huge gesture that he should be incredibly grateful for, even if it wasn’t that big a deal. Conversely, if something slightly bad happens, i.e. he’s late for an appointment, he feels as if he’s an inconsiderate person who can’t keep track of time, even if he’s on time on every other occasion. The medication he’s on is aimed at ‘ turning down ’ his emotions so he doesn’t react as intensely to things that don’t merit an intense reaction, but just as with his therapy, the medication can only do so much, and intense reactions are definitely something he still experiences, just not as often as if he wasn’t on medication.

FEAR OF ABANDONMENT : Bum is terrified of being rejected and left alone, and will go to extreme lengths to keep it from happening. He, personally, wouldn’t go so far as forcing someone to stay with him, but he will absolutely make promises about being better, being whatever the other person wants him to be, begging them not to leave him alone, to the point of probably accidentally manipulating their emotions. It’s not a conscious decision to make them feel bad for leaving or not wanting to be in his life anymore, but rather he truly feels like he’s not worth anything on his own. Predictably, most people don’t enjoy being put in that position, so it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy in that the more he begs and promises, the more most people will want to leave.

UNSTABLE RELATIONSHIPS : Bum often gets very attached, very quickly, to anyone who shows him kindness. He has trouble maintaining relationships with other people because he wants all of their attention, and is very sensitive to what he perceives as rejection. If the other person says that they’re busy and can’t be with him right now, but they will later, all he seems to process is the first part. He feels as if they don’t care about him or don’t want to make time for him. This can lead to him treating them with anger, such as giving them the cold shoulder or saying things he doesn’t mean to them. Once the fight is over, he will usually apologize ... but he often expects an apology from them, too. It also happens that he seems to move very quickly in a relationship ; saying “ I love you ” within the first few weeks of a romance, calling someone his best friend after maybe a month, etc., which typically scares a lot of people off. Dialectical behavioral therapy is helping with improving his relationships, but these issues will almost certainly still crop up from time to time in any relationship he has.

DISSOCIATION : Bum will sometimes ‘ zone out ’, but in a more extreme way than daydreaming. His mind and his body experience a disconnect, and when this happens, he seems to be staring off into space. It takes effort to make him respond, to the point that it might be worrisome to those around him. This will sometimes happen during extremely negatively emotional moments, where Bum will dissociate completely from himself, his mind’s effort to avoid the physical and emotional pain which comes with strong reactions. He describes it as a sort of “ empty ” feeling, like he’s suddenly ceased to exist for a few moments, like his whole being is filled with static, like he has no idea what’s happening to or around him, before he suddenly snaps back to awareness. He seems numb immediately following an episode of dissociation, but he’s actually often distressed by it and doesn’t like the feeling.

SELF-DESTRUCTIVE OR RECKLESS BEHAVIOR : most of the time, Bum’s self-destruction takes the form of things like self-harm. His typical method is cutting, usually along his arms, sometimes on his legs. It’s not something he engages in daily or even weekly, monthly. It is, however, something that when it happens, he does it several times within a short period. He may make several cuts a few times a day for several days, then not again for months. It depends. Doing this causes his brain to give him a rush of endorphins to combat the pain, and that makes him feel ... good for a moment. Then he feels guilty that he hurt himself, and wants to feel good again, and it becomes a cycle of addiction to his own hormones. Again, it’s not a ‘ regular ’ thing he does, but it does happen. Other things he does are to engage in risk-taking - things like crossing the street without looking to see if a car is coming that might hit him, or going out in the rain for long enough that he’s almost guaranteed to get sick. When he comes out on the other side of those things still alive and relatively okay, boom, rush of adrenaline that makes him feel good. Therapy and medication are helping a lot with these behaviors, but he does still fall into them occasionally, especially when he’s experiencing a lot of stress, needs to feel in control of something, or is attempting to cope with an intense emotion where his healthier coping mechanisms haven’t helped. He’s attempted suicide in the past because of emotional pain, and still sometimes has those ideations in his head, particularly as intrusive thoughts when things are actually going well for him.

POOR SENSE OF IDENTITY AND SELF-IMAGE : Bum doesn’t truly know how to describe himself to others, and doesn’t think he’s really worth much. He thinks of himself as having only two big interests ( frogs and sweets ) and the rest of his personality is simply nothing. Often he feels like he’s only ‘ interesting ’ when he’s with someone else. When asked to pick a few words to describe himself or a few things he enjoys, he will struggle with doing so to the point that he might break down in tears because he feels like he doesn’t know who he is. He’s working hard on discovering himself, but it’s a long, slow process that involves steps such as trying new things, which is very scary to him.

Bum is a man who has a lot of issues, and even though he’s working on trying to put the pieces of his life together and be healthier, many of the BPD symptoms he experiences will often inform his behavior. It’s a struggle, but he really is trying.

Patience, understanding, and encouragement, coupled with the willingness to not enable or reinforce his unhealthy behaviors, will go a long way in helping maintain a good relationship with Bum ! Be kind to him, but also be willing to stand firm if the situation calls for it. Even if it’s hard and upsets him at first, he appreciates those things, because he knows it will help him in the long run.

#bpd tw #self harm tw #suicide tw #suicidal ideation tw #killing stalking tw #that’s just what I think anyway. ( HEADCANON. )#some days it feels like a wrecking ball is swinging through my ribcage. ( BUM. )#(( w h e w I've wanted to get this post out for a few days #I've done as much research as I can on BPD / EUPD and I still feel I don't /fully/ understand it #but I I understand it insofar as it affects Bum's behavior and thought processes #it fascinates me to get inside his head so deeply even if there are parts which make me slightly uncomfortable #honestly I just thought I should warn anyone who might be interacting with him on a regular basis #that he does have BPD and it affects his behavior quite a bit #just so anyone who thinks about interacting with him in a more intimate capacity for any kind of relationship #whether romantic or platonic #is aware that these are things that may manifest within that relationship because BPD affects Bum's behavior #ty for reading this tho I know it's really long but !! I have fun getting inside his head it's very interesting #I've always been interested in how the mind works and doing research for Bum is very rewarding #it makes me feel like I have a better understanding of the mind in general <3 ))

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yusuke-of-valla · 4 years

Text

like rats fleeing a sinking ship, pt 6.

intermission ii

<-Previous Next->

AO3

“What the hell.” Akechi is the only one to speak as everyone staying in Takemi’s apartment stares at the TV and the news of Sae’s arrest. “What the actual hell, Sae?” Akechi runs a hand through his hair and starts pacing. “How could you get arrested? How.”

“Makoto’s here.” Akira mutters, more to himself than anyone else.

“We need to deal with Shido. Tomorrow.” Akechi says.

“Akechi, how many times do we have to tell you. We can’t be hasty,” Morgana snaps.

“We don’t have any more time to stall.”

“We have to find Makoto first, at least.” Akira insists. Akechi scowls and Akira rolls his eyes. “Don’t give me that look, if Sae got captured then Makoto’s hear, and our time limit just got that much shorter, we’ll need as many healers as we can if we’re going to finish the whole thing.”

Akechi grumbles. “Fine. Fine, but that’s it. Then I’m going in without you because you’re clearly no use otherwise.”

Akira sticks out his hand “Deal.”

Akechi takes it firmly.

Tae’s apartment only has one bedroom, but she’s let Akira use an air mattress and given the Akechi the couch to sleep on, not that either of them really sleep that night.

Akira stares at the ceiling, thoughts swirling around in his head. Where could the others be? It’s been about a week since Shido called for their heads, and he hasn’t heard anything from half of his friends. He should be able to protect them.

His thoughts drift around some more, though they keep returning to the sinking feeling that he’s failed as leader for not being prepared for this, until Akira doesn’t so much fall asleep as feel his consciousness be ripped away from him.

With a gasp, Akira sits up on a familiar blue cot, with his wrists shackled.

“Trickster.” There’s something... off, about Igor’s tone. Caroline and Justine look more serious than usual too.

“Look, unless you’re here to tell me that you know where my friends are, I don’t care.”

“This is very serious, Trickster. Ruin is approaching faster than expected.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“Show some respect, inmate!” Caroline shouts, slamming her baton against the bars.

“Our master is trying to assist you.” Justine says.

“You seriously can’t fail! You already messed up letting this Shido guy get the upper hand on you.” Caroline says.

“Our master personally contacted you to make sure you’re aware of the circumstances.” Justine adds, and Akira realizes that she’s nervous. Her eyes keep flitting to Igor, and Akira takes a good look at him.

His air of perpetual smug confidence is gone.

Igor is scared.

“This is different from the other ‘Ruin’ I’m supposed to be avoiding, isn’t it?”

“This was not supposed to happen. An unfortunate miscalculation, but you must understand the gravity of this situation. Ruin may befall us all if you allow your current opponent to go unchecked.”

“Alright. I won’t fail any of you. I promise.”

Just before Akira feels himself wake up, he smells the faintest scent of seawater.

“Akira, come on!” Morgana is patting his paws against Akira’s face to wake him up, and Akira slowly shoves him off.

He checks the time on Tae’s oven and realizes it’s almost time for them to meet the others. Akira gets up quickly and throws on a hoodie and jeans, then grabs his bag as Morgana jumps in and runs past Akechi, who’s been standing by the door the whole time.

They meet in front of Takemi Clinic, and the knot in Akira’s chest loosens up a little when he sees Ann.

Ann’s face lights up when she sees him, and they hug.

“I’m glad you’re ok,” Akira says.

“Same to you.”

“Good to see you again, Akira.” Shiho says.

“Yeah, you too.”

“So, what’s the plan,” Ann asks. “We saw the news last night.”

“We’re going into Shido’s Palace tomorrow.” Haru’s eyes widen and Akira shoots her an apologetic look. “I know we said we’d take a couple more days to look for the others, but with Sojiro and Sae going on trial, we don’t have time.”

“The plan for today is to start preparations,” Morgana says.

“But that doesn’t mean we’re giving up on looking for the others,” Akira adds, giving Haru an reassuring look.

Shiho nods. “I know Ann and I are going to go to Ryuji’s house and try to talk to his mom.”

“Right,” Morgana says, “we also need you to pick up some crafting supplies so we can make tools tonight.”

“I have no clue what you just said, Morgana,” Shiho says, “but I’ll do my best.”

“I’ll try and ask around for Makoto,” Haru offers.

“Can you stop by the church in Kanda too? I want you to ask Hifumi Togo if she knows anything about Yusuke.”

“Absolutely.”

“And while you’re walking around, maybe hit up some vending machines for energy drinks. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.”

“Sure. And you?”

“We’re going to Kichijoji to talk to that friend I mentioned before.”

“Alright.”

“We’ll meet back at Tae’s apartment tonight, and then we meet in front of the Diet Building and secure the route to Shido’s treasure, for better or worse.”

Ann, Shiho, and Haru all nod, and as brief as their reunion was, they split up again.

Akechi is silent for the ride to Kichijoji station, but once they arrive at the promenade he speaks up.

“I thought we weren’t worrying about Kitagawa.”

Akira stops. Then he grabs Akechi’s arm and pulls him into an alleyway. “Morgana, can you go on ahead, I’m going to talk to Akechi.”

Morgana leaps out of Akira’s bag and shoots him a concerned look before heading off.

Akira turns to Akechi, dead serious. “Look, I get it. You want to get back at Shido, or whatever. But we’re going tomorrow, just like you want. So can you stop complaining for five minutes?”

“I’m trying to give you perspective. If you’re distracted, he’ll kill you without hesitation.”

“I don’t think we’ll run into Shido’s shadow-”

“I wasn’t talking about Shido. I’m talking about Shido’s cognition of myself,” Akechi says, “who’s responsible for this.” He points to the wound at his side. “I suspected you were messing around in Shido’s Palace and went to confront you. Instead I found that thing that Shido thinks I am.” Akechi’s nose scrunches up in disgust and he bangs his fist against the wall beside him. “A damn puppet who’ll do anything for him. And who unfortunately is powerful enough that even going all out, I barely escaped with my life and arrived at your doorstep.”

“That’s how you knew Shido was about to put out the arrest.”

“Yes.”

“What did you even get from working with him?”

Akechi takes a deep breath. “He’s my father, and I wanted revenge. It was because he abandoned my mother that she killed herself and I was thrown into the foster system. Moving from home to home, completely unwanted. Until I awakened to my Persona. Suddenly I had powers unlike anyone else. I was special. So I made a plan. I approached Shido and offered him my services. I spent countless nights dreaming of the pure satisfaction of the moment when he won, when he was at his highest. And then I, the son he threw away, would force him to admit that he could only achieve his goals with my help, force him to acknowledge me, and then I’d cut him down.”

Akechi’s hands are shaking.

“So that is why I can’t afford to have you hesitate. It seems he would never acknowledge me as the reason for his success, since he thinks I’m some mindless weapon that he always intended to throw in the trash.”

“If he had a change of heart he’d acknowledge you,” Akira says after a moment. “He’d even apologize. Sincerely.”

Akechi snorts. “Yes well, I wasn’t aware of that option at the time. Maybe if I’d met you sooner, things could have been different.”

They fall silent again. Akira sighs. “Look. It seems like we both underestimated Shido. You thought you’d earned his respect, we thought we’d avoided his suspicion. We were both wrong. But the reason he wants to get rid of us so badly is because somewhere, deep down, he’s scared. Even the smallest threat to his power has to be stamped out, even if it’s a random teenager who stopped him from harassing some woman.”

Akechi’s eyes widen. “Wait, that was Shido?”

“Yeah. Your dad sucks. But he’s also a rattlesnake, trying to appear bigger than he is because he’s cornered and scared. We have a chance to beat him, but only if we work together. And we can’t work together if you’re constantly complaining about how I’m not doing things on your timetable. As much as we both want Shido out of the picture, we’re not the ones he’s hunting right now, so you’re going to sit back and let me worry about my friends.”

“You truly don’t give up on anyone, do you?” Akechi asks, tilting his head. “No wonder they adore you. Very well, I’ll refrain from any commentary for the rest of the day.”

“Thank you.”

“Senpai! Akechi-kun!” The two young men turn around to see Kasumi Yoshizawa running towards them, Morgana in her arms, who she lets jump to the ground to throw her arms around Akira. “I’m so happy you’re okay! I’ve been so worried but I had no clue how to get in touch with you.”

“Good to see you too, Kasumi,” Akira says with a smile.

Akechi looks between them. “Yoshizawa-san? You understand Morgana?”

“Yep,” Morgana says, “she’s a Persona user, but not a Phantom Thief. She’s still pretty new to it, but she’s strong.”

Kasumi nods. “Yes, although I’d like to change that middle part. Senpai, please let me accompany you on your current heist. You’re targeting Representative Shido, right?”

“Well, at least you pick up on things quickly.” Akechi says.

“It’ll be really dangerous, Kasumi.” Akira warns. “I mean, you’ve probably seen the news, we’re not in the best position right now.”

“I know the risks. I can’t turn my back on someone who needs my help though. So, please let me join you! Or actually-” Kasumi stands up straight and looks Akira in the eye. “I’m not asking. I am joining you on your next heist.”

Akechi nods. “Alright then. Welcome aboard.”

#alto writes #on the run au #akira kurusu #goro akechi #wordcount: 1500-2000

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