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#stop speaking over us

clownrecess · 1 year

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(Tw for ableism, meltdowns, elopement, etc.)

Hi, I am currently in an argument with someone in a comment section because they are saying that autism is not a disability. So I decided that I want to make a post about it, and thoroughly talk about it.

If you do not know me, hello. I am an autistic primarily nonspeaking teenager with mid-high support needs. I'm disabled.

I am honestly very tired of low support needs autistics saying that autism isnt disabling, because it very much is for me and a lot of other people. Just because your experience isnt the same as ours, doesn't cancel out our experience.

I will never live alone. I am a teenager who can not make food, or blow dry his own hair. My ability to use oral speech varies a lot, and when I can use it, I usually end up having severe meltdowns from it. I am in special ed. It hurts when I brush my hair. I have put myself in danger by running into the street. My emotions are extremely strong, so I often seem rude when I'm not, I just can't control the fact that when I feel something it's so incredibly strong that it hurts. I have little to no internal sensation. I could not bathe myself until I was 9 or ten, and even now I will not just go and take a shower myself; I need someone to tell me to, and I need a visual schedule to help me do so. And many more things.

The person's response was to then say that is not because I am autistic, that is because of the way mankind is. That my autism is not disabling, society is. And whilst I do agree that society is horrible to disabled people, and it would be much much easier to exist as a disabled person in this world if society was different, that doesn't change the fact that my autism is disabling. Me being nonspeaking is not because of society. Me being unable to care for myself is not because of society. Most of the things on that list are not because of society!

Just because low support needs people exist, does absolutely not give them the right to speak over us, and tell us what our experiences are or are not.

My autism is disabling. Listen to me. Listen to me. My life has been severely impacted because I am disabled. You can not sit there and tell me that me being unable to care for myself, and unable to live alone ever, isn't disabling, and that it's because of society.

I am disabled. Stop speaking over high support needs autistics.

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thottybrucewayne · 10 days

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I think what I want to get into with the "Anyone can do harm." thing that I keep beating yall over the head with is that literally anyone, anyone at all can do harm it's not "in your DNA" to be an abuser or written in the stars that you'll be a predator. Whatever image you have of an abuser in your head, drop it and replace it with your favorite person in the world and you'll probably be closer to the truth than you realize. It's easy to address harm when it's coming from someone you already hate. I see it happen all the time. Someone you couldn't stand for no real reason does something heinous then all of a sudden here comes the avalanche of "I always knew they were a fucked up individual." No, you didn't. There is no possible way you could have known, you just already didn't fuck with them before they started doing something you could use to justify your hatred of them. I'm guilty of it too! I'm petty, mean, vindictive, and yes! I'm way quicker to believe something bad about someone I hate versus someone I love because I'm human. Still, y all gotta learn to move past that initial "Well, they were always nice to me!" gut feeling and understand that nobody truly knows anyone and anyone can be capable of anything. Even victims. Even you.

#thotty speaks #thotty rants #I was thinking about that Christine chan post and its like yeah yall really don't know how bad it got for her before she did what she did #It reminded me of that thing on tiktok where people take 'cringy' cosplayers videos (most of whom are literal children) and put racist or #bigoted text over it then reupload it to call them out then the og creator gets a flood of harassment mostly from people who hated them for #the crime of being weird on the internet but now they can use 'oh but they're a bigot!' as an excuse to tear them down until they come out #and say 'hey i didn't say this someone stole my shit' and nobody takes their vids down nor apologizes because they didn't fuck with them #anyway so wash rinse repeat #idk I just wish that people had the same smoke for people they actually like #mostly cause I'm tired of being accused of 'switching up' every time I cut people off or stop fuckin with an artist #like this is what we should be doing!!!! ACG ANYBODY CAN GET IT!#It should be smoke for ANYONE who does harm every your fave people!#otherwise you create this world where taking people to task for the harm they've done is less about the harm #and more about justifying our own actions #anyway keep that same energy across the board that's all I'm saying #cause if it comes out tomorrow that somebody close to me did some fucked up shit I'm out of there period #aint no talkin bout shit and that's on me growing up as a child told that certain grown folks can't be alone with me #but they allowed in my house...#Idk about yall but i'm ending that generational curse with me

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slutdge · 4 months

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people who have never experienced sexual violence before freaking out about and condemning sexual violence being depicted in art made by people who have actually experienced sexual violence is something that makes me so unbelievably filled with rage. sorry your delusion that somehow sexual violence isnt traumatizing and ugly was shattered, were allowed to express ourselves however we would like through art though. cunt.

#i have more to say on this that ill add when i calm down #in general idk pipe down maybe on this issue and stop speaking over us. we can speak for ourselves.

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thecraftyninjacat · 2 months

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Mahoro, Matakara, Aladdin and the Princess

I think Episode 8 finally confirmed to me that the role of the Princess in the Aladdin allusion was actually split between Mahoro and Matakara, rather than it being one or the other. There's a reason why they're both represented by Jasmine-chan during the Nyan Nyaight Love cutaways!

Preface; imo Bucchigiri's narrative takes inspiration from both Disney's Aladdin and the original Aladdin story, so I'm going to switch the Princess's name depending on which version of her I'm referring to. So Jasmine -> Disney's Aladdin, and Badroulbadour -> 1001 Nights Aladdin.

From what I saw in the 1001 Nights Aladdin, Badroulbadour didn't have much of a personality, so it makes sense that a lot of Mahoro and Matakara's personalities were taken from Jasmine, while their roles in the story were slightly more influenced by Badroulbadour.

Mahoro: The feistier side of Jasmine. She has a sharp tongue and always speaks her mind, regardless of potential danger. Eg. Mahoro stands up to Akutaro after he gains the upper hand on both gangs, similarly to how Jasmine refuses to bow to Jafar when he becomes Sultan.

She's also regarded as pretty desirable, and has charmed several men to get them to do what she wants (something that both Jasmine and Badroulbadour do at some point to trick Jafar/the sorcerer). Arajin falls for Mahoro at first sight, similarly to how both versions of Aladdin fell for both versions of the Princess, and like Aladdin his crush on her becomes his driving motivation throughout the series. Akutaro also talks about turning her into a NG Girl and…abusing her, a la Jafar. Ik it's just to trigger Arajin but yk what I mean!

Matakara: The gentler, more naive side of Jasmine, in that he trusts/believes in Arajin...a lot more than he should, really. The main 'lying' plot point between Disney's Aladdin and Jasmine is directly implemented into Matakara and Arajin's relationship. On a surface level there's also their blue colour schemes and phonetically similar names (Asamine -> Jasmine). Near the climax of the 1001 Nights version, the sorcerer tricks Badroulbadour into giving him the lamp with the genie in it, similarly to how Akutaro manipulates Matakara into shooting himself with Ichiya. Both actions trigger a Very Bad Turn of Events that Aladdin stops/will have to stop with the help of his own genie.

Also very interesting how Ichiya has a moon motif, and Badroulbadour's name is a metaphor for female beauty meaning 'full moon of full moons'. Totally not losing my fucking mind over that no sir

Though they both fit the Princess allusion, the entire show is screaming that Matakara is Arajin's true Jasmine, and Arajin is going to realise he was what he needed all along. Honestly, it doesn't get more obvious than Episode 9.

That's not to mention how Mahoro and Matakara also have many, many parallels to each other via their relationships with Arajin. (Both visit him one-on-one at his mom's restaurant to convince him to do something and order the exact same dish, Arajin thinks of child Matakara after seeing both current Matakara and Mahoro get hurt, his meetings with both of them are juxtaposed with one another and described as a 'fated meeting' in this trailer, etc.)

Aside from that, there's also a lot of little stuff that the two have in common! (Both suck at cooking, both deeply care about their older siblings, both are cute as hell etc etc.)

(it's also pretty neat how they're technically both the respective 'princesses' of Minato Kai and Siguma, being the younger siblings of the leader/former leader of each gang!)

#bucchigiri?!#mahoro jin #matakara asamine #arajin tomoshibi #crafty speaks #you know the yaoi is good when i start to use normal grammar #gotta stop the princess talk before i make this about utena again #anywaysss here's hoping matakara and mahoro become besties and bond over their abysmal taste in men <33

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anendoandfriendo · 5 months

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You've seen "excluding neurodivergent people is ableist" and now understand "neurodivergency is disability" but now get ready for for this one:

Neurodivergency can be disability but not every single neurodivergency is, actually. Yes, even those who technically could qualify for a diagnosis under the DSM or ICD may consider their neurtype to be beneficial to them, actually. And some neurotypes can be adjacent to the DSM and ICD without actually falling into them!

Neurodivergency can be disabled but in the way all squares are rectangles but not all rectangles are squares.

The people seeing themselves as more abled for a neurotype that's disabling to you are not your enemies.

Break free of your chains, stop letting the DSM and ICD, the biggest perpetrators of ableism, define us and our communities.

#we're veey much thinking about endogenic systems here. but we're also thinking about left-handed people.#and we're thinking about how “autism is my superpower!” has been used to dismiss people who are disabled by their autism but how #there IS a potential to like. not “reclaim” that as that's not the connotation we're looking for.#there are many ideas that would make sense if they were more inclusive but have been absolutely ruined by aspie supremacists because #bigots ruin EVERYTHING and we need to stop letting them rule over us.#you get what we mean?#that whole saying where the difference between a psychotic and a psychic is like how much they're drowning so to speak.#do you understand? but do you TRULY understand?#trans people used to be pathologized under the DSM too. <3 #“that's not the same” well actually we would like to propose a solution: it is the same actually.

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milkweedman · 6 months

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Needed something to do last night bc I couldn't sleep, and spinning takes about a million times less brain power than knitting or crochet, so now I'm working on this.

Its from a 2.8 ounce batt that I had labeled southdown Romney blend, and I'm 99% sure that what I was told it was when I bought it (I remember thinking how much I love a good southdown blend), but when I finally unrolled the batt last night it had a label that said Suffolk hampshire blend. I think that's what this is--it feels 100% down breed rather than a down and strong wool blend. Honestly I probably still would have bought it as a hampshire blend, so I don't mind that much.

No clue what to do with it. It's not soft but the prep wouldn't do for socks, which is my usual idea for coarse down wool. It's also got a much darker section that I've been trying to decide how to feature (if it's worth doing at all).

#Supported spindle #Supported spinning #Hampshire #Suffolk #Super bad painsomnia last night n then it's finally morning #And as soon as my mom (she's visiting) got up she wanted us both to do chores #And I by the time I finished that and was sitting down with my coffee I was very relieved and in tons of pain #And then proceeded to spill my coffee all over the armchair I was sitting in and had to spend another hour #Cleaning it up. By which point I was in too much pain to speak and just wanted to go lay down in bed where I might stop making messes #And then having to clean them up. And thankfully that has been the case. Am pretty much done with the ability to do anything else today #So I am just gonna try and spin and not make anything worse #I probably would prefer something rly colorful to spin today but I don't have anything prepped already... and that would be too much effort #So gray down batt it is

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distant-velleity · 5 months

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Stay With Me

Summary: Santiago and Chrysos have a lot of feelings to work out. Spoiler alert: they still don't confess. Word count: 2.6k Warnings: major character not-actually death (this is my Boxing Day gift to you all) A/N: I wish I could've put Major Character Death as a real warning. Alas... such is life. Anyway :) I'm super done with writing this, I don't wanna keep going insane, I'm just gonna post it as is. It's actually pretty tame for angst on my part. Enjoy!! Tagging: @thehollowwriter (finn mention!!!) @kitwasnothere and @nahelenia as my top 3 murderers <3

When Santiago comes to, groggy and lightheaded, he’s greeted by the watered-down sun filtering through the seas of Octavinelle above him. Bird and sky separated only by the glass and several gallons of water, his limbs sure feeling as distant and heavy as the ocean.

Ah, he thinks, ever-intelligently. How did I end up here…?

He can’t quite remember. All of his recent memories are escaping like soap bubbles in the wind.

While he racks his brain trying to figure it out, someone approaches and kneels next to him. A single glance at the person’s blonde hair and red eyes tells Santiago all he needs to know.

“Sorry about that,” Chrysos says, monotone as always. It’s hard to tell if the merman really is sorry or not. “I usually don’t get normal customers involved when 86’ing nuisances.”

Santiago can’t help the smirk that comes to him all too easily. “Are you sure I wasn’t the nuisance?”

“Hard to say,” replies Chrysos with an amused huff. He stands back up and offers Santiago a hand, to help him stand up.

Something about it feels off—maybe because Chrysos’ gaze seems so benevolent, that he seems so unbothered about gently helping someone he’d normally be too embarrassed or proud to. Still, Santiago laughs and sits up. “Tight-lipped as always,” he comments, and reaches for Chrysos’ hand, pulling himself up to stand.

They hold hands for a moment longer than they need to. It feels, if he dares to admit it just to himself, nice—

“Hold it.”

As if he’s been burned, Santiago jumps away from Chrysos at the sound of Azul’s voice. Approaching them are the Octavinelle housewarden and his entourage of three.

Santiago notices, with a distant sense of dread, that he’s never seen Chrysos look so furious and disappointed upon seeing his upperclassmen.

“Get back, Parrotfish,” Floyd warns. “That’s not the right Lionfishie to be getting all buddy-buddy with.”

How odd. Why would Floyd, of all people, go out of his way to warn him?

Santiago glances at the Octaquartet, then at Chrysos, whose expression is steadily darkening.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Chrysos says coldly.

“My, my.” Jade conceals his magic pen, clasped tightly in one hand, beneath the other. “There’s no need for that frigid tone. I’m sure we’re already on the same page.”

“No?” interjects Santiago. “No, we’re not. What’s going on?”

Finn looks him dead in the eye and then cocks his head towards Chrysos.

Santiago turns back around, and everything changes.

Where Chrysos was just standing as normal, there’s suddenly inky shadows surrounding the Octavinelle freshman. His eyes flare red-and-yellow as the ink (no, blot) viciously wraps around him in strands to form a cocoon of sorts. Santiago staggers back when the cocoon contracts, a dark purple haze spreading throughout the area and blocking out the sun. The whole dorm is plunged into a deep-sea darkness.

It’s Chrysos and a towering Phantom now, him hovering a little too close to the glowing pendant around its neck for anyone’s liking.

“We’re running out of time,” Azul says grimly. “Our fight from earlier didn’t do anything—”

“I’ll help fight him if it cuts down on time,” Santiago immediately declares without missing a beat. “If it saves his life.”

“Of course you would. Well, stay sharp, then.”

And Santiago tries, of course—

—but it doesn’t stop him from misfiring at some point, trying to hit the Phantom, only for it to grab Chrysos with a sickening crunch of his ribs and hold him up in range of the destructive fire spell. Santiago can only watch as it strikes Chrysos indiscriminately.

The resulting wail of agony is bloodcurdling and unbearable, but not nearly as much as when the Phantom moves a thrashing Chrysos closer and closer to its chest, a gaping hole like a beast’s maw forming there, the pendant dangling right before it.

“Wait—”

It’s what all the teachers warn about when they discuss the occurrences of Overblots. Defeat the Phantom, and the victim will come out unscathed. Take too long to destroy it, and the Phantom will… will…

Chrysos is brought to that gap, drawn in like an object near a black hole.

Santiago can’t breathe.

He can’t bring himself to close his eyes either. Even when a sinking feeling blossoms in his stomach, gripping him with all the force of a predator’s claws.

The ‘hand’ of the Phantom squeezes, another crunch of body parts that shouldn’t be breaking—

“Don’t you dare take him—let him go—” Santiago begs, but it’s useless.

The Phantom simply. Tucks Chrysos away in itself like nothing. Ignorant to his furious, fearful screams.

The hole in its chest closes over with viscous blot.

Santiago can’t look away.

“Ah… Ahh…”

can’t

look

away—

“AAAAAHHHHH—!!!”

A guttural scream tears its way out into the open from Santiago’s raw throat, burning and hoarse and painful. Still begging for a life not his own, his eyes fly open as he sits up in a grieving frenzy. “Chrysos, please, don’t leave—!”

“I’m right here,” calls a familiar voice from beside him, miraculously free of its terrifying Overblot overlay. It’s melodious and soothing, easy on the ears, just when he thought he’d never hear it again.

“You—” Santiago’s hand shoots out without thinking, clamping down on Chrysos’ where it was gripping the edge of his blanket.

…his… blanket…?

Only then does Santiago realize, half-delirious, that he’s on a bed in the school infirmary. He’s not in Octavinelle, he’s not surrounded by torrents and mists of pure blot. The air is clear here, and the sun is shining bright and pleasant through the windows like it does through the forest canopy back home. Although his lungs still burn a little, everything’s okay.

And, looking at the boy sitting right next to him—Chrysos is okay. He’s alive.

In silent awe, Santiago squeezes the cold, ungloved hand in his a little more tightly.

He’s alive.

Chrysos bites his lower lip and pointedly avoids looking at their joined hands. “What a nightmare you were having,” he says, false indifference in his tone. “Screaming like that… You’re lucky the nurse isn’t in right now.”

Santiago blinks. “A nightmare?”

“Yes. You were trembling and crying out in your sleep. If it weren’t the first time you’d shown any signs of movement in days…” Chrysos trails off, brows pressed tightly together.

Putting aside the fact that it was all little more than a bad dream, thank the Great Seven— “What do you mean, in days?” Santiago echoes disbelievingly. “I don’t even know how I ended up here, and you’re telling me I’ve been unconscious for days? Hello? Way to hit me with the double whammy.”

It was an attempt to lighten the mood for both their sakes, but when the corners of Chrysos’ mouth twitch downwards and his lips thin in a stressed frown, Santiago immediately realizes he’s said something either really wrong or really stupid. Or both.

“You don’t remember what happened at the SDC?” asks Chrysos. “Weren’t you there? You know, for Schoenheit’s Overblot, like Yu said…”

Santiago’s eyes widen. He only slightly loosens his grip on Chrysos’ hand a second later. “Oh, you mean—”

Toxic purple mist surrounded them, reeking of a sickly sweet concoction.

More saccharine still was the smile on Vil’s face. Even as blot dripped down his snow-white face from beneath his elaborate crown, he still found it in himself to pursue being the fairest one of all.

Showing simultaneously all and nothing of his burning jealousy and bitterness.

“—yeah, I remember,” he continues, letting out a laugh with no real humor in it. “I even remember getting a faceful of poisonous mist and then passing out right after the awards ceremony ‘cause I tried to act tough.”

“At least your brain wasn’t permanently damaged. That’s good,” remarks Chrysos with a half-hearted smirk. “Maybe you’ll be out of here sooner than I thought.”

No, there was definitely a screw knocked loose if Santiago was imagining Chrysos Overblotting in place of Vil… much less sobbing desperately at the possibility of his death…

…Santiago swallows, mouth suddenly dry for no good reason. “Uh-huh? I don’t know, I still feel a little off.”

He nearly jumps out of his skin when Chrysos suddenly leans forward, hand subconsciously moving at lightning speed to place itself on Santiago’s wrist. “You still feel off? You’re not messing with me, are you?” he asks, voice demanding with a hint of… something else. “I swear, I will have the nurse over here faster than—”

“Whoa! Don’t get your boxers in a twist, jeez!” Santiago exclaims, and Chrysos halts immediately. “Am I still dreaming? Did you just gaslight me into thinking this is reality? I mean, seriously, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this worried about me.”

“I’m not worried,” retorts Chrysos, although the watery look in his eyes as he tries to meet Santiago’s gaze says otherwise. And where there would normally be an underlying bite to his tone, it’s totally absent. “Isn’t it fair to ask questions when a certain someone has been unconscious for days?”

Nevermind, I’m definitely not still dreaming.

“So you’ve been worried about me. Got it.” Hopefully that isn’t giddiness bubbling up in his chest, despite—or because of—the way Chrysos sputters out another denial, because it sure as hell is conflicting with his sense of spite. “Why don’t you save any of it for yourself? You’ve been a resident here way more often than me.”

Chrysos stiffens, before puffing up a little; chin lifted indignantly and gaze judgmental. Santiago wouldn’t have it any other way.) “I was conscious all those times and did not actively inhale dangerous toxins made by a very powerful mage.”

Seriously, this guy… Santiago shakes his head. “Dude, I heard you nearly turned yourself into sand that one time, also because of ‘a very powerful mage.’ I saw for myself when you could’ve died fighting Jamil or Overblotted at the same time and had to stay in the infirmary for a very lengthy check-up. You know, you—”

died in my dream because of me and I would never forgive you or myself for that matter if that actually happened,

“—are a grade-A idiot getting hung up on the wrong details,” he decides to say instead. “One of these days, you’re gonna end up back here and I’m gonna get to say ‘I told you so.’”

“Hmph.” Chrysos scoffs and turns his head away. To anyone else, it might look aristocratically prim and stuck-up in the way his hair tosses slightly. “You wouldn’t come running to my bedside crying out my name, then?”

It’s Santiago’s turn to stiffen, feeling called out in too many ways. “...fuck, I forgot you heard me talking in my sleep. Well…” He pauses, searching for an appropriate response. “I would if you wanted me to.” He doesn’t have time to appreciate how smooth that was on his part before his traitorous mouth moves faster than his brain, going right ahead and saying, “And I’d still do it even if you didn’t want me to, ‘cause if you die on me I’m absolutely going to—”

Crap! Backtrack, backtrack, backtrack!

He shuts up immediately before he can incriminate himself any more, pursing his lips and watching carefully for signs of a negative reaction.

Almost too neutrally, Chrysos glances back over at him from the corner of his eyes, the piercing look in his irises only partially hidden by his lashes. “...You really would be that concerned?”

“Maybe,” Santiago answers, pasting on a nervous smile.

“‘Maybe’ isn’t an acceptable response.” Chrysos looks him straight in the eyes. His hand feels warmer, for some reason. “Don’t be shy. What would you do?”

Santiago huffs defensively. “Fancy that, you telling me to not be shy—”

“Santiago. Stop messing with me already.”

That tone, desperate and curious and impatient all in one, is singlehandedly more commanding than any other order Santiago has ever gotten in his life.

The beastman slumps back against the headrest, being sapped of his will to argue. He already knows it’s pointless. It’s kind of hard to beat around the bush when the bush has already slapped you in the face with a very thorny nightmare. “Miss you, probably. I mean, I dreamed about it, but…”

He thinks about the way he screamed and forced himself to wake up because that scenario had seemed so real. Probably can only begin to describe whatever he was feeling.

“...Well. You’re the only person who’s ever gotten me, y’know, so don’t die because you couldn’t help yourself. I don’t wanna have to cope with my dream becoming reality. Please,” he finishes lamely.

“Oh.” Chrysos stares blankly at him for a moment, then at their hands. “...oh,” he repeats, in a much quieter ‘sudden realization’ sort of voice.

Santiago squints at him. “Dude. What kind of guy tells his buddy to open up about his feelings in such a pleading tone and then is surprised when he actually opens up about it?”

“The one right next to you who was expecting his buddy to dodge the question again.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Santiago replies, rolls his eyes.

Chrysos worries his bottom lips, gaze shifting to the side suspiciously quickly. It looks like he’s considering something.

“...Are you taking that literally?” Santiago wants Chrysos to take what he said literally, to be honest, but that’s beside the point.

“Because you’re so dense, yes,” Chrysos snaps back. His free hand comes up to tug one of his curls closer to his face in that bashful way he always does. “If you died like you could’ve from Schoenheit’s poison, I would march right over to the afterlife and drag you back into the world of the living. Then I’d beat you into the ground for hurting me like that. Your ass is not leaving this life until I say it’s okay to. Does that make enough sense to you?”

“I don’t remember the story of the musician and his muse being this violent,” mutters Santiago, feeling incredibly touched despite the brash nature of that admission. Or maybe because of it.

Chrysos’s cheeks flush as red as the ends of his hair. “You asked. I delivered. Look who’s being a hypocrite now.”

“Touché.”

It feels like something between them has… changed, when they both fall silent for lack of things to say. Not in the terrifying way Santiago’s surroundings shifted during his nightmare, but a change for the better. Like a burden has been lifted off his shoulders, making the silence bearable.

“I… think I may need to go,” Chrysos says, a dusting of pink still on his face. Maybe because he’s spoken too much, or at least by his own standards. He stands up, letting go of Santiago’s hand. “Culture fair and. All that. You know how it is. I’ll see you—”

“Wait a minute.”

Santiago reaches out and, instead of just grabbing, intertwines their fingers. His longer ones settle perfectly between Chrysos’ knuckles as if they were meant to be there.

The merman goes still.

“Hypothetically,” Santiago begins, “if I asked you to stay a little longer—would you say yes?”

Chrysos’ mouth opens, freezes, and then closes. When he next speaks, it’s slow and cautious, like he’s testing out how the words actually feel. Testing the waters. “In this hypothetical scenario… I could be convinced to stay. Possibly.”

“Cool. So don’t run away just yet. Stay here with me.”

They make eye contact.

“...How persuasive. Well—” Chrysos sighs and sits back down, before offering Santiago a small smirk. Barely noticeable, but there. “It seems like I’ve actually got plenty of time to spare all of a sudden.”

Santiago can’t help but smile too.

#kai's writing #twisted wonderland #twst #twst oc #santiago parro #chrysos pendentif #with a minor guest appearance from #finn clearcove #canon character appearances <3 too lazy to tag once again #bro. these. these freaking two.#santiago 'i cope using humor because i don't think my true feelings are socially acceptable to talk about' parro #and chrysos 'i am going to go ten different kinds of insane if this bird doesn't speak clearly to me' pendentif #theyre FINALLY getting over themselves a little #santiago: im going to hide how i feel about this! he'll never know!#santiago when chrysos deems the situation dire enough to actually sniff out his bullshit: ...fuck #ill stop going insane in the tags but #these two are literally an inch away from just confessing 💀 im so done with them

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