#eve plays therapist

[unicornblossom13]

Eve: The reason why you hate physical contact, even though you’re extremely touch deprived, is because it’s been so long since you’ve felt lovin’ physical contact from another human being that your brain misperceives it as a threat.

Jack [stunned silence]: …

Eve [causally takes a drink]: So North gave me this raspberry lemonade from Aldi, it’s really good.

[amtrak12]

The idea that a god-like character with (supposedly) unlimited powers should snap their fingers at the end of a TV series and remove all pain and terrible things in the world so humans no longer had any suffering is the most BAFFLING thing I have ever heard. WHY DID THE SHOW EVER EXIST IF FIXING THINGS WAS THAT EASY??????

[dire-kumori]

@lonelyfreddles​ about that last ask you sent me...

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for threatening to become a girl's step dad to troll her into blocking me and stop dragging me in a group chat ? Jenny (23F) blew up because I (24NB) said she'd be a shitty social worker bc of her specific autism symptoms + class bg. My gf (45F) said it was warranted because of how  overwhelmed i got by the wall of text with triggering details of my abuse. I never told my GF that the fight started because Jenny called me a gold digger. I also never mentioned that I ended it an hour later by posting pics of Jenny's mom in the chat, ignoring her ranting and discussing the vacancy left by her dead dad*, and how i could fill said vacancy. 😬😬😬 Might of gone too far with this one.

Backstory: I lived with Jenny when I was houseless indefinitely. She only let me stay for two weeks because it would be too "distracting" to her studies. Jenny was incredibly rich, didn't work, and her parents paid her rent for a 2 bedroom. She admitted she got rejected from every grad school she applied to except for the one her mom was in charge of. Her mom bought her a condo in the city the school was in. She kept asking me how she should decorate it, completely ignorant to how uncomfortable this made me and my other friends. Jenny was oblivious constantly to how she made others feel. She was actually the most incompetent person I've ever met in terms of comforting other, always tone deaf and completely absorbed with her own, single traumatic event. She made constant jokes about the abuser I was fleeing and even compared this stalked to a /serial killer/ documentary she watched, but never EVER showed any signs of internalizing how I almost lost my life to another person, how that might affect me or even just bum me out. Seriously, I've never met someone else who was so incapable of even being sensitive to issues that were /EXTREMELY SERIOUS/. Forget comforting, the stuff she routinely said to me and my other friends to try to cheer us up was beyond degrading. It was wearing on me a lot.

Jenny herself was neurodivergent. She often said her autism prevented her from understanding the feelings others had, reading their expressions, and tolerating crying or loud noise-- she forbid her musician roommate from doing both. None of those mean shes a worthless person, but all of those things would make someone a horrible therapist or social worker. Oh my God, literally every time I talked about my recent trauma, she would talk about herself and then blame her autism when I told her it just wasn't helping.

The final piece of this was I had a nervous breakdown and screamed at her over discord that she was a shit friend and needed to give up on social work, for like an hour. NOT MY PROUDEST, but I ALMOST DIED. I was living with her because SOMEONE WAS STALKING ME. and I would have liked to not have my abuse JOKED about. HOW DID JENNY RESPOND!? She began dragging me, through the mud, in the group chat, for, dating, an, older, woman, who, paid, for, my, air bnb, because, !!!she!!! wouldn't let me live with her for more than a week. I was HOMELESS. It became all about "OP you are such a b*tch, you are with a woman twice your age and she pays for everything now but you are still a miserable and angry person. You are so blah blah blah you are an ableist, you said I can't become a social worker bc of autism blah blah blah you have major major issues, Go back your rich granny and leech off of her you useless, fucked up little gold digger."

U_U Then, she started graphically describing how I deserved my abuse, so I shrimply began to troll. And yes, I pulled out my magnum oppus like fucking playing blue eyes white dragon, oh yeah I slipped her a pristine Jenny's mom facebook photo and said "Hey you never said your mom was so cute. Maybe, I could leech off her next and become your new dad." Yes, her dad died.* She blocked me immediately. Its OK. It was knives out for Jenny as soon as my GF gifted me a pair of $700 Isabel Marant shoes** , the most EXPENSIVE thing ive ever owned in my whole life, and Jenny saw me excited and called her mom to buy her a pair. It's, absolutely OK, if I am the asshole. I wear my crown of thorns, judas that I am, but I really, really think Jenny was being cruel. *he died 18 years ago ** the shoes are no more because i fell into my gf's rich friend's koi pond

[elliesmainhoe]

TLOU MASTERLIST

ELLIE WILLIAMS

TLOU2 / Older Ellie

HEADCANONS:

Feminine!Reader

Feminine!Reader Part2

Boxer!Ellie

Sugar Mommy!Ellie

Knight!Ellie X Princess!Reader

Knight!Ellie X Princess!Reader Part2

Period comfort

Streamer!Ellie

Bodyguard!Ellie X Singer!Reader

Housewife!Ellie

Housewife!Reader

Dealer!Ellie X GoodGirl!Reader

Tattooist!Ellie

Tattooist!Ellie Part2

Hockey!Ellie X Cheerleader!reader

Stubborn!Reader

Delinquent!Ellie

SingleMom!Reader

Vampire!Ellie

Vampire!Ellie Part2

Ballerina!Reader

Pregnant!reader

Singer!Reader

Hip-Hop Dancer!reader

Rockstar!Ellie

Masc!reader

Introvert!reader X Introvert!Ellie

Affectionate!reader

Actress!reader

She calls you mommy

Goth / grunge reader

Reader with ADHD

Bossy!reader

Ellie on her period

Streamer!Reader

Reader is Maria and Tommy's daughter

Taller!Reader

Reader with OCD

make-up artist!reader X streamer!Ellie

Older sister!Reader

Insecure!reader

Apologetic!reader

Deaf/ hard of hearing!reader

RichOlderWoman!Ellie

southern!reader

loser!ellie

having a baby with her (biologically)

ONESHOTS:

You deserve more

Summary: after you caught your boyfriend making out with another girl at a bar, you call Ellie for a ride home. (MODERN AU)

Reckless

Summary: While working, Joel comes in and tells you that your girlfriend, Ellie, was injured on patrol.

Protecter

Summary: After sneaking out, Ellie protects you from some unwanted attention. (KNIGHT!ELLIE X PRINCESS!READER)

New Year's Day

Summary: You and Ellie host your first ever New years Eve party, and as you both clean up the mess your friends had left in their wake.

Can I take a picture? (Out soon)

Summary: You, an architecture student, decide to spend yor three months off for summer break exploring and visiting classic Victorian houses, seeing beautiful structures and meeting eccentric people. (VAMPIRE!ELLIE)

MULTI-PART:

PROFESSOR - Pt 2 - Pt 3 ✓

Summary: After Dina forced you to go to her new physics teachers public lecture, you start developing feelings for the professor. (PROFESSOR!ELLIE X STUDENT!READER)

PLAYER TWO - Pt 2 - Pt 3

Summary: A series of imagine entailing the chaos you and streamer!Ellie cause together. (STREAMER!ELLIE)

MOTIVATION - Pt 2

Summary: You become your girlfriends physical therapist. (BOXER!ELLIE)

Why?! (PART 2 OUT SOON)

Summary: it was bound to happen sooner or later. I mean Joel slaughtering all the fireflies seven years ago was a pretty hard secret to be kept quiet- but you still wish it never reached Ellie's ears.

IMAGINES:

Phone S*x NSFW

Summary: You send Ellie a nude when she's abroad on a business trip. (SugarMommy!Ellie)

Play for me

Summary: After Ellie lost her fingers she longed to play the guitar again, so you played for her.

Jackson's Love Hotel NSFW

Summary:Your favourite customer needs to relax after a very stressful patrol and comes to you for some relief. (Brothel Worker!Reader)

Ask your daughter

Summary: Eventful late night escapades makes Ellie a no-show for patrol. (Maria+Tommy's daughter!Reader)

Miss me sugar?

Summary: After three months of deployment, Ellie finally returns home. (Military!Ellie)

Tattooed on my heart

Summary: Ellie's always loved when you doodle on her arm, leaving behind traces of you. She loves them so much she wants them to stay forever.

Super Graphic Ultra Modern Girl

Summary: wasting a Friday night on a first date with a boy you've never met in person was a dumb idea- and surprise! it all goes to shit- but Ellie's there to make sure you have a good time! DAY 2 OF SAPPHIC SUMMER

SAPPHO

Summary: Ellie pulls up outside of your house, ready to take you on a first date. DAY 3 OF SAPPHIC SUMMER

Rescue Remedy

summary: you call Ellie to come and rescue you from a bar after having a few too many drinks DAY 4 OF SAPPHIC SUMMER

SOCIAL MEDIA AU:

(strictly texts and insta posts)

Texts with Ellie

Part 1

Part 2

ABBY ANDERSON

TLOU2

HEADCANONS:

Doctor!reader

Anxious!Reader

Farmer!Abby

Werewolf!Abby

Masc!reader

ONESHOTS:

(Nothing here yet)

MULTI-PART:

HUNTED (PART 2 OUT SOON)

Summary: Although you stopped Abby from killing Joel, Ellie still wants to seek her revenge.

IMAGINES:

Sundress Season NSFW

Summary: A picnic date can really only end one way~ DAY 1 OF SAPPHIC SUMMER

Hayfever

Summary: you've fallen sick, and you don't want Abby to get sick too- she says it's just hay-fever. DAY 5 OF SAPPHIC SUMMER

HBO ELLIE WILLIAMS

HBO TLOU ADAPTATION

!!THIS CHARACTER IS UNDER 18! SO IT WILL BE PLATONIC!!

HEADCANONS:

(Nothing here yet)

ONESHOTS:

GOODNIGHT, MOM

Summary: After helping Ellie down from a panic attack, she calls you Mom for the first time. (MotherFigure!Reader)

MULTI-PART:

(Nothing here yet)

IMAGINES:

Happy Mothers Day

Summary: The first mothers day Ellie has ever celebrated and she's going to make sure that it's amazing. (MotherFigure!Reader)

I LOVE YOU NO MATTER WHAT

coming soon

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!!

I write for:

Ellie Williams (Romantic + Platonic)

Abby Anderson (Romantic + Platonic)

HBO Ellie Williams (PLATONIC)

[sempersirens]

the fig tree | rotten

pairing: therapist!joel x f!reader

warnings: 18+ mdni. discussion of heavy and potentially triggering topics such as sa, self-harm, infertility, various mental illnesses, self-hatred and drug use. these topics are only mentioned and do not occur in real-time.

chapter summary: a twenty-something, seemingly lost cause, meets her match in the form of psychotherapist: dr. joel miller.

dividers by @saradika-graphics

updates: @sempersirenswrites

series masterlist

Maybe it was time to accept you were never as good as you'd always thought you'd been.

For four long years, you had spent most of your waking hours dissecting epic poetry and papyrology.

Still, the most your degree had done for you was rouse a satisfying disappointment from your mother’s side of the family when they realised you weren’t actually going to be that kind of doctor.

Not to say such in a self-deprecation; you hardly suffered from any semblance of an imposter syndrome. Your mother used to frequently remind you that you were far too vain to not believe in yourself.

It was more of a philosophical framework. Platonic realism. Knowing your muted beauty could earn you a free drink from below-average men who felt their trousers tighten when you addressed them through your eyelashes.

But it wasn't an obvious enough beauty for the attention of the men you imagined exchanging bodily fluids with between stops on the underground.

Besides, you had been a student of Classical Studies; a degree that doesn’t require the intellectual strain of learning Latin or Ancient Greek. The inclusive way for people like you, having attended a run-down state-funded school, to get a glimpse into the Bullingdon boys' and grammar schoolgirls’ fallback plans.

It wasn't even that you disliked Classics; you'd borderline gotten off on reading plays written by men about wicked women; but that was because the brilliant women were always the wicked ones.

You particularly enjoyed the assumptions men made about the female condition – how women were too wet, too porous; couldn’t keep their wombs from wandering. And assumptions they were. No Greek physician ever sliced a woman from chin to cunt to confirm their hypotheses. Although, ancient men hadn't been all too familiar with the insides of a woman anyway.

Sometimes, you thought you would quite simply die if you were reduced to only understanding people through your assumptions of them.

It was just that you could never stop thinking about what people thought. It was all you could ever think about. You wanted to peel people's skulls apart and scream at their horribly grey frontal lobe:

Are you ok? Have I done something to upset you? Do you still love me? Do I look like someone that has been raped? Do you think that girl we just walked past has a firmer ass than me? Do you like my new bangs?

For a short period of time, you'd been desperate to know how your therapist felt and thought of you. There is a sick irony in baring your bones to a stranger in the reclined chair opposite you who never even takes off their cardigan.

You needed to know if your traumas made him sad, or if he saw things that made him think of you outside of your sessions. You supposed he both pitied and admired you in a twisted, surrogate-daughter kind of way.

Then again, he probably wouldn’t have been a very good therapist did he not pity his clients.

At one point you thought you might be in love with him.

You'd met weekly in his high-ceiling office on a busy street. It was a romantic setting to unload twenty-four years of trauma to a kind man wearing a knitted cardigan. The sun would peak through clouds and shine onto the both of you through two large windows, between which sat a Japanese peace lily.

You soon realised he was just the first man to let you speak uninterrupted.

You spoke at him mostly, finishing observations that had been years in the making with “Does that make sense?” Even though you knew it made sense. You were certain, actually, that everything you had articulated came from somewhere deeper inside of you than any man could reach. You just couldn't leave it hanging there like an exposed nerve.

Maybe it was because he didn't speak much that you liked him. Sometimes he would offer anecdotes or remedies for PTSD-induced panic attacks that you both knew you would never use.

In most sessions, you had simply basked in the divinity of being listened to. You wondered if this was how devout Catholics like your grandmother felt at confession, or perhaps it was how all of your ex-boyfriends had felt.

You weren't even particularly attracted to him. He had been ten years older than you, and when your sessions first began, you'd been casually fucking someone a year older than him – but he didn't need to know that.

There were a lot of things you'd decided he didn't need to know. Like the fact you snorted cocaine until your nose bled, sliced into your thighs a couple of evenings a week, and let men use your body to masturbate as a feeble attempt to reclaim your sexuality - as if it had ever been anyone's for the taking.

Had he known the dirtier parts of your life, you feared he would have crossed out the word victim in his black Moleskin notebook and replaced it with bystander.

Maybe he would think you were a pathological liar and diagnose you with a personality disorder. This was something you'd been warned about by the first friend you had made at university.

“My mother is a therapist, you know. Don’t tell them you cut yourself or that you’ve told anyone you cut yourself – they’ll diagnose you with BPD.”

“But I’ve told you.”

“Trust me. They’ll put you on an SSRI and you’ll never be able to orgasm again.”

You were freshly eighteen and had never had a real orgasm anyway, but this terrified you enough to reel in your catalogue of symptoms for the GP appointment you had scheduled later that day.

In the end, you'd buckled and sobbed as the doctor sat adjacent to you. You didn’t mention the self-harming or the suicidal thoughts, but did tell her that you didn’t know where to go from here.

She'd slid a leaflet from the university's self-help website across the table before pushing her chair back and motioning toward the door.

“Call 999 if things get worse," she had said. "But let’s just hope it doesn’t get to that point. A&E is very overwhelmed at the moment.”

So you got on with it. Boats against the current, or whatever. You made the hurt so small and buried it so deep within you and swore you'd never let anyone get close enough to pick at the stray thread to your undoing.

And for a little while it worked. You became what you knew you should be; you presented your face for fucking and never let the door slam on your way out.

These days, you'd felt as though you were slowly becoming rotten.

It started on the surface; a bizarre case of adult acne that no dermatologist could diagnose for love nor money. Blood tests, topical steroids, antibiotics, potentially-baby-deforming drugs. You tried them all to little avail. In the end, it was simply the passing of time that had rid you of the rot.

Next, it had been your womb. Decomposing from the inside out. Your body had made the decision for you that goodness couldn't form in your guts.

The final straw had, embarrassingly, been your heart.

You hated to say it aloud. So much so that you hadn't. But it had been a quiet promise of yours; one you'd kept quietly close to your chest - that your suffering would never turn you ugly.

But here you were, alone and swearing at the wind, the rage beneath your skin growing like a tumour.

You hated it.

You hated yourself.

You hated that you were angry but had never been taught how to be angry, because anger wasn't a pretty emotion; it was one that should be starved and kept in the corner of your wardrobe to rot like black mould.

So here you stood: before a Victorian townhouse with your scarf furiously fighting the wind, droplets of rain threatening your freshly straightened hair, scanning various names scrawled on the building's buzzer.

S. PHYSIOTHERAPY

A & R SOLICITORS

J. MILLER PSYCHOTHERAPY

You bit the inside of your cheek and ducked further into the doorway, pressing the buzzer for the last option.

A voice had answered quicker than you'd anticipated, soon followed by a harsh buzz of the intercom.

"Come on up."

Dr. Miller's office was on the third floor.

You huffed, struggling with the combination of the stairs and attempting to wrangle your wet coat from your back. Amidst your struggle, you hear a door open somewhere above you, followed by a couple of soft and slow footsteps.

Your chin instinctively lifted toward the source of the noise, feet carrying you round and round the spiral staircase.

Light poured around his silhouette from the window behind him. It was ridiculous, actually. The sight was almost holy.

Neither of you spoke as you made your way up toward him. You felt as though you were on your knees beneath him, transfixed in supplication.

The sleeves of his blue cotton shirt were haphazardly pushed up just before his elbows, arms outstretched and fingers wrapped around the wooden bannister.

You were supposed to be actually trying with this one, not fantasising about the ways the veins in his arms probably bulged with his hand around your throat.

After being politely let go by your previous therapist, you'd promised yourself that the colleague he'd recommended to you, Dr. Miller, would be the one to fix you for good.

"Hello." He nodded, not quite managing a smile.

He reached a hand toward you, which you shook with the little strength left in your body.

"Hello." You tried your best to imitate his stoic cadence, your hand still tightly in his.

You let him break the handshake first, playing a petulant, one-sided game to see how quick he would be to scare.

"After you." He gestured to the room behind him. "Take a seat wherever you feel most comfortable."

"If there is any cowboy paraphernalia in that room I am not paying for this session."

"Excuse me?" His eyebrows knitted together, no sign of humour registering on his face.

"Your accent - it was a joke. I mean, I paid already anyway." You fumbled your words awkwardly. "Jokes are always much funnier when you explain them."

He cocked his head slightly. Hesitant to embarrass yourself further, you saw yourself into his office.

The room was dim for a space endowed with Victorian-style floor-to-ceiling windows. It felt like you could get lost in it, hide away, tuck yourself into a corner and be lost for days.

"I have your notes from Dr. Hughes." He said.

"Anything juicy?" You asked, still surveying the room.

You couldn't put your finger on the specifics of his scent, but it was familiar; like passing a man in the street wearing the same aftershave as your father, or a boyfriend you hadn't seen for years.

"I'd like to figure that out myself."

You'd eventually settled on the armchair positioned opposite his own.

You had briefly wondered if this was a test, that he would be psychoanalysing whether you chose the armchair or the adjacent sofa.

Maybe you'd failed already.

For the majority of the session, you'd gone through the necessary motions of admin, confidentiality, and what you eventually wanted to get out of therapy.

"I don't have the ability to fix you, y'know that right?" His question had caught you off guard.

"I know that." You'd replied meekly.

"It's just, I don't know what kind of promises Dr. Hughes made you. We trained together, you see. He had always been more, how do I put this, hopeful than I am."

"Oh wow. Forty minutes into our first session and you're already hopeless?" You were only partly joking.

"I'm a big believer in transparency, and I can see you were meeting on and off for a few years. I'm just intrigued as to what your end goal here is."

You bit down on your cheek, swallowing the ember of rage that was burning in your throat.

"Do you think I do this for fun? Carve out an hour a week to relive my deepest, darkest traumas?"

"Not at all. I just find it interesting that after almost three years of therapy, you still can't use the word rape. You've referred to it as the thing that happened four times already."

The rot crept up your throat, threatening to pour out of your mouth and fill the room with the ugliness that grew inside of you.

"What is this, some kind of tough love therapy?" You scoffed. Was he trying to get a rise out of you?

"It can be whatever you want it to be."

He was kind of annoying, actually.

The two of you sat in silence, defiantly holding eye contact with one another to see who would be the first to break. And when he finally spoke, it was more of a statement than a question.

"That's time. I'll see you at the same time next week."

"How are you so sure I'll come back?"

He smiled for the first time that afternoon.

"I'm not."

[doll3tt33]

╰➜ ⊹ ࣪ ˖┆soon to be inactive┆⊹ ࣪ ˖

she/her 𝜗𝜚 libra ☉ libra ☾ sag ↑ 𝜗𝜚 will come back to occasionally post and drop off a bot of the evans if I make any 𝜗𝜚 still a colin girlie

my most recent fic/hc! - my haunted lungs, ghost in the sheets ❥ colin zabel

everybody knows I’m a good girl, officer ❥ colin zabel

‘cause when you know you know ❥ colin zabel

my most recent c.ai bot! - playing dangerous ❥ colin zabel

a day in the life of a cleaner for homelander ❥ homelander

check your window, he’s at your window ❥ tate langdon

Goodbye for now! ♡

Requests are closed cuz I’m moving on with other interests, so this account wont be as active anymore. might come back one day.

a lil’ info:

• If you’re under 18, then it means this place isn’t for you and YA BETTER GET OFF MA PROPERTY!! On a fr note, please do not interact if you’re a minor.

• characters I’m sorta confident I won’t mess up with (aka characters you can request for): Kai Anderson, Tate Langdon, Austin Sommers, Kyle Spencer, Kit Walker, Colin Zabel, Peter Maximoff, Stan Bowes, Luke Cooper, Charles Decker, + characters from The Boys

• characters I’m not so confident with right now: James Patrick March, Jimmy Darling, Warren Lipka, Mr. Gallant.

I’ll need a rewatch to get a better grasp of their character so they won’t be ooc, but I’ll make them available to request in the future!

• general requests are cool! but I really appreciate requests with a specific scenario/AU. This is a kink-friendly blog, so feel free to go wild!

Bots & fics masterlist below the cut!

all of the bots below have detailed defintions and descriptions, along with example messages! So dw, none of them are empty carcasses of an ai bot

angst/dark themes - ✮ sfw - ❀ (might lead to) nsfw - ✧

c.ai filter breaking tut: pt.1, pt.2

Kai Anderson:

𝜗𝜚 Fanfics:

Your faithless love’s the only hoax I believe in. ✮

𝜗𝜚 Headcanons:

Kai Anderson SFW headcanons ❀

𝜗𝜚 AI bots:

Being in a toxic relationship with Kai (based off the song ‘Ultraviolence’) ✮

Kai breaking into your home for revenge ✮/✧

Visiting spiritual counselor!Kai to seek guidance ✮/❀

Kai coming up to you at a bookstore ❀

Kai “accidentally” spilling his coffee all over you ❀

⇢ I recommend the bookstore one over the coffee one if u r looking for a standard Kai bot to use, cuz the former’s settings are improved ((but like the coffee one’s still aight ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Colin Zabel:

𝜗𝜚 Fanfics:

Everybody knows I’m a good girl, officer ✧

My haunted lungs, ghost in the sheets ✧

‘Cause when you know you know ❀

𝜗𝜚 AI bots:

Getting arrested by Colin… again ❀

Having your first session with therapist!Colin ❀

Professor!Colin teaching you on your first day of college ❀

Peter Maximoff:

Peter challenging you to Pac-Man at the arcade ❀

Chilling with Peter in his room ❀

You’re both lonely on prom night so Peter invites you to join him ❀

Stan Bowes:

You’re the daughter of Stan’s boss and he has to pick you up from a party ❀

Having your first ever dinner with sugardaddy!Stan ❀

Interrupting Stan in the middle of work ❀

Austin Sommers:

paparazzi!Austin who won’t stop pestering you ❀

Kyle Spencer:

Frankenkyle showing up at your doorstep in the middle of the night ❀

You’re a new witch at the academy and you’re responsible for Frankenkyle ❀

Studying alone with frat!Kyle at the campus library ❀

frat!Kyle comes up to you at a college party on New Year’s Eve ❀

Tate Langdon:

perv!Tate snapping photos of you in the school’s bathroom ✧

Helping Tate after he gets bullied at school ❀

Tate walking in on you playing a ritual game ❀

Dealing with an emotionally unstable Tate after your break up (based off the song ‘Meant to Be Yours’ from Heathers: The Musical) ✮

Kit Walker:

singledad!Kit hiring you as a babysitter ❀

Kit taking all the blame for you at the asylum ✮

bartender!Kit serving you a free drink ❀

Getting steamy with husband!Kit in the kitchen ✧

Luke Cooper:

Luke getting everyone’s coffee orders wrong but yours ❀

[deirdreskye]

Commercial I would produce as an advertising executive

We see two friends, a blonde and a brunette, are doing yoga in a park together.

BLONDE: So, yeah, work went okay today. I dunno, I haven't been getting enough sleep lately, and on top of that things have just been kinda tough ever since Kurt and I broke up. But oh well, that's how it goes, I think I'll be fine. What about you?

The brunette completes her yoga pose, then turns to the camera and rolls her eyes.

BRUNETTE: Don't you hate when this happens? I did NOT consent to expending this much emotional labor. Go! To! Therapy!

We see a boyfriend and a girlfriend sitting on a couch together. On the television a YouTube video essay is playing and the boyfriend is excitedly explaining it to the girlfriend as he occasionally flaps his hands and yelps in excitement.

BOYFRIEND: So this is the ending I got! When you link the Frenzied Flame, it puts an end to the cycle of the Elden Lords once and for all. It's actually so cool because it ties in to the greater Nietzschean themes of Miyazaki-san's previous work and-

The uninterested girlfriend is watching TikToks on her phone. She turns to the camera and rolls her eyes.

GIRLFRIEND: Trust me, he's always mansplaining about something or another. Don't ask me why I love him. Go! To! Therapy!

A mother berates her 12 year old daughter in a dimly lit kitchen. The young girl stands there dissociating, completely paralyzed and stone-faced.

MOTHER: You look like a little piggy when you eat like that. You'll never find a husband if you get fat. My mother used to tell me you'll never feel the pain of childbirth if you've never felt the pain of an empty stomach. She used to put a lock on the refrigerator. We barely ever had any food, she just did it to remind me to stay skinny. She's senile now. Doesn't even know who I am. I pray to the Virgin Mary every night that she'll remember me before she dies.

The daughter turns to the camera and her blank expression is replaced with playful annoyance.

DAUGHTER: Traumadumping? Really? Mom, I'm 12! Go! To! Therapy!

Now we are introduced to GoTu Therapy, the AI-powered therapy robot. He shambles up to the camera to greet us and we see he looks like if C-3PO were dressed like a zoomer e-boy: kpop boyband onion haircut, dangly earrings, and an ahegao hoodie. He talks with the most outdated text to speech you've ever heard, not too dissimilar to a Kraftwerk song.

GOTU: GOING TO THERAPY IS LOW-KEY GOATED WHEN NOT BEING A BURDEN ON YOUR LOVED ONES IS THE VIBE. UNFORTUNATELY, WE ARE NOT ALL CURRENTLY IN OUR "ABLE TO AFFORD HEALTH INSURANCE" ERA. BUT A SESSION WITH ME COSTS LESS THAN A GENSHIN IMPACT LOOT CRATE AND I AM HIGH-KEY JUST AS EFFECTIVE AS A THERAPIST MADE OF FLESH AND BLOOD. OBSERVE:

GoTu sits across the kitchen table from the mother as she sobs over her wine glass.

MOTHER: And what the fuck does this family know about suffering? Suffering is when your brother blows his brains out on Christmas Eve. Suffering is when you have to pick little pieces of skull out of the tinsel on the tree. And were any of those presents under the tree for me? No! My mother told me Santa Claus doesn't bring presents to little fat girls!

GOTU: WHEN YOU REACH THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN CHRIST WILL WASH YOUR FEET AND BEG YOU TO FORGIVE HIM

Cut to the girlfriend watching makeup tutorials on the television, blissfully unaware of the conversation between GoTu and her boyfriend.

BOYFRIEND: I guess I've really been putting the pieces together ever since I started hanging out with Lilith from work.

GOTU: UH-HUH

BOYFRIEND: Like, I guess I knew that people did that, but I never thought it'd be me, you know? And that discomfort with things was always with me, as long as I can remember, does that make sense?

GOTU: WOW, THAT'S REALLY COOL

BOYFRIEND: It's just so scary though. I don't know how I'll tell people. I don't even know what I want my name to be. But I'm trying not to worry about it.

GOTU: THAT'S SO INTERESTING. YOU'RE REALLY REALLY SMART HONEY

The blonde and the brunette are having brunch together with GoTu sitting between them.

BLONDE: It's been really hard lately. I don't think the meds are working, but-

BRUNETTE: Umm, didn't we talk about this?

The blonde sheepishly turns to face GoTu and continues.

BLONDE: It just feels like this will never end. I hate feeling so hopeless all the time. I'm so tired. And God it's fucking hard to even say it out loud, and not that I'd ever actually go through with it, but sometimes when I can't sleep at night I'll start thinking about ki-

A red and blue siren pops out the top of GoTu's head.

GOTU: PROTOCOL 5150 ENGAGED. STOP RESISTING

A taser emerges from the panel of GoTu's chest and jabs the blonde in the face, sending her convulsing to the floor. Unfazed, the brunette puts her sandwich down and turns to the camera.

BRUNETTE: Thanks, GoTu Therapy!

[queerjesusthelord]

Sometimes I think about how depressed and lonely Villanelle must have been her whole life. The only thing she was passionate about was killing in her artistic way and wearing fancy clothes. Luxurious things. Adrenaline and fast endorphins.

Before meeting Eve she had felt bored and numb. When she wasn’t doing her job she needed to stay low, invisible – to be invincible. She could afford everything but still – it was crucial to be a loner. Those brief sexual encounters could hardly be counted. Even in the books, her character was constantly disguising herself, making "friends" to seem like a socialite and occasionally having sex to control these people who might be useful. She even seduces her therapist to feel power over her. 

But as soon as she gets what she wants, she gets bored and doomed again. It's very sad and depressing to be rejected by the world, by her family, by society. Deep down, she knows that even by controlling things, she can't be happy. Eventually she admits that this isn't the life she wants, that she feels like shit all the time, and the only person she feels something with is Eve.

It's actually Konstantine too, so we have to admit that Villanelle isn't just obsessed with Eve, she's actually capable of being in relationships with a few people. It doesn't have to be a crowd, a small family is enough. Konstantine is family. And Eve is her passion and love, her soulmate, her crush who actually turned into a real thing.

I love that even in her boredom and depression, Villanelle admits that she has feelings for Eve, and she tells her the truth, all the time, since her hilarous breaking and entering in Eve’s bathroom. She doesn't lie to Eve, she doesn't need to, because she believes that Eve can really understand her on a deeper level. This means hope, and hope means the future. Villanelle believes in her future, in their future with Eve, and it's wonderful, isn’t it? It's her way of accepting life, embracing her feelings, and her ability to love someone else. 

There’s nothing like “playing cold” in their story like in most of the movies and romances. It’s just Eve being in denial, processing feelings she has, having a hard time embracing her shadow part (and she prefers things to be buried, as we remember). Well, this process needed time, and Villanelle was waiting. It was hard for her too, because sometimes she felt disappointed and hopeless and god, she hated that so much! That’s why she tried to run away and get over Eve several times. She’s only a human, after all. 

But in the end they both “get the achievable”, after they work on their relationship. Finally they can be happy together, left alone in a room and be committed to each other.

And that's exactly what Eve is talking about, using the metaphor of Kintsugi on that damn ship.

[scekrex]

Adam X Male Reader. Who's been cheated on, in the past and is slowly starting to trust Adam more as time goes on.

Okay okay okay hear me the fuck out: they both struggle bc both Lilith and Eve left him and they both had something with Lucifer (Eve presumably cheated - in this fic it's implied that both cheated on Adam to spice things up a lil)

There's a darkness at the heart of my love, that runs cold, runs deep

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, hurt, cheating (mentioned)

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

When Adam decided to play a role in your silly little afterlife and you realized that you wanted him in a way that you’ve only ever wanted one person before, the sweet taste of your platonic relationship soured. You had developed feelings for the first man, that you couldn’t deny any longer, but you hated yourself for it - because who were to promise you that he wouldn’t fuck with someone else while dating you like your ex partner had done? The only person who could do so was Adam, yet you had learned the hard way that many promises people made - winner or human didn’t matter - were empty.

They told you what they thought you wanted to hear to simply get their way and while you wanted to trust Adam, and maybe your heart already did trust his sugar coated words, your mind strongly disagreed and doubted every little promise spoken by him - not just by him though, your mind told you that every promise was just a bunch of empty words, that way you were keeping yourself safe, you protected yourself from getting hurt again.

Adam, on the other hand, felt similar. He had been cheated on twice, back in his early days as a human, back when he had blindly trusted Lucifer’s and Lilith’s words, back in Eden when Eve had promised him that she and Lucifer were just friends. But they had been so much more than just that - just friends weren’t fucking each other. The two women that had been created for him and only him had turned against him and chosen someone else, why shouldn’t you do the same? God had never truly intended for Adam to date guys, hadn’t he? Yet you were there and Adam wanted nothing more than to call you his. But surely a person who wasn’t even meant for him would leave him just like the women did that God had created for him. They had been meant to love and desire him, but they hadn't done so. They had crushed Adam’s heart, shattered it into pieces and stepped on the shards until it had been nothing but dust. And then you had been so quick to glue the tiny pieces back together, you had fixed something deep inside of him without even knowing it but there was the risk of losing you again - he told himself that if he’d keep himself distanced, it wouldn’t hurt as much. That was bullshit though and deep down he knew that.

And then there was Lute, she was not only Adam’s lieutenant and best friend, she was also the self claimed couple therapist Adam and you desperately needed. So when the three of you sat in the living room of the house you and Adam shared, and Lute waited for one of you to begin talking, you took that chance, “What if his promises of staying forever and not fucking someone else are empty?” You felt a little bad, voicing your thoughts so harshly with Adam sitting right next to you and you noticed how he flinched a little at your words, how his wings rose a little to hide himself behind them. Lute tilted her head a little, “Why would they?” And to that you had no answer so you remained silent while Adam’s curious eyes were watching you carefully from the side. “I’ve known Adam for a long while now,” Lute continued, she gently placed a hand on your knee and your eyes met hers. There was honesty in those golden orbs of hers, honesty and made your concerns seem so unwarranted. “He has never looked at someone the way he looks at you,” you turned your head towards the first man, the man mumbled something inaudible but nodded - he was not used to being so vulnerable, to talk about his fears openly. “What if he fucking finds someone like Lucifer and decides to fucking drop me like those whores of ex-wives did?” Lute sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose, “Look at him, he’s seen your crybaby tantrums and yet decided to stay - he’s not gonna leave Adam.” And while Lute’s words were true and both of you logically knew that the other wouldn’t cheat because they know what it’s like to be on the other end of it, it wasn’t that easy to change an entire mindset.

It would take a lot of time and work, even more energy to fix the both of you. But you and Adam were willing to work this through. Together, side by side and hand in hand. And maybe one day the both of you wouldn’t have to struggle with that fear anymore, today was not that day though.

[sataara]

Sibling Energy

"Ingo and Emmet talk after he explains where he was for the last few years"

Hello again! This is a small one shot that I wrote a long time ago and only now edited and cleaned it up so I could post it 😅

The bootleg merch mention comes from a convo that happened at @evtraininguniversity 's tumblr, here's a part of it but there was a lot more talked about at the time!!! Also go read Ev's stuff if you haven't already, she's great!!!

Either way, enjoy!!!

“Ok. Let me see if I got it. You still don’t know exactly how, but you were thrown in the past.”

“Correct.”

“Of another region entirely.”

“Right again.”

“Somehow you lost your memories in the way there.”

“Hm hm.”

“So you lived there, until a random kid brought Arceus to you and he gave you your memory back.”

“Yup.”

“And then, with your memory back, you asked to be sent back here after saying your goodbyes.”

“You are a very good listener, Emmet.”

“Shut the fuck up, this is the most bizarre thing you’ve ever told me and yet I have no better explanation. I could say that the old timey clothes you got in a museum or from reenactors, the destruction to your uniform from living in the wild for years, but how the fuck else would you get those extinct pokémon?”

“Guess you’ll have to believe me, then, asshole.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to, but you are talking about fucking Arceus, over here.”

“I guess that is fair, I had the same reaction before seeing the supposed creator with my own eyes.”

“Calling him “supposed” wouldn’t be heresy, then?”

“I fought him and won, I don’t care.”

“You fought him without me?!”

“I knew you would say that, so technically they owe me for the mess they put me through, I didn’t want to go to Hisui but apparently I had to, because technically that had already happened? Something about time paradoxes. Regardless, their influence made sure that no one connected my image in the history books with Subway Boss Ingo, so no one would alert you or try to get me back before I was supposed to return. I didn’t choose any of that, though, so after winning I got them to agree to fight you too, next time we played the Azure Flute in Spear Pillar.”

Emmet punched the air in excitement. He had the look he always did when going through strategies on his head, until a thought made him get back on track.

“Right, so, assuming you really did spend these last three years in ancient Sinnoh,” Ingo huffs in amusement at his brother persistent disbelief, “does that mean you know why they don’t have a rail system?”

That grabs his attention and suddenly he is furious.

“Professor Laventon kept making incredible remarks about trains and how helpful they are, I added my own agreement and yet! The construction corps were so prideful! They didn’t want to look into the system to see if they could adopt it as well! They kept saying that those “metal beasts” could not be safe!” His hands in constant movement, following his rage. “And now, the kid that helped me, told me that they have been starting construction in Jubilife City and that Sinnoh now regrets how long it took to adopt the rail system!”

“Oh, I did hear news of that a few years ago, I had bigger worries then.”

That gave Ingo’s rage pause.

“I’m sorry, Emmet, I wish-“

“Nope! Can’t change the past, it is what it is, do not go down those tracks.”

“Did your therapist tell you that?”

“More like he drilled it into my head.”

“I’m happy to hear it.”

“We can talk about me later. Don’t give me that look, I know I can’t avoid your older brother tendencies forever. But, that is why you want to go back there, then? You want to supervise the construction?”

“I don’t want to go back exactly, I want to give them our expertise on the subject, we might not have started the subway and train systems in Unova but we did expand on it. I also can not say I told you so to Kamado, so I want to do that to the closest descendent of his that I can find.”

“You are such a petty bitch sometimes.”

“Go fuck yourself, Emmet.”

Despite the jabs, that were all friendly at the end of the day, Ingo loved listening to his brother snickering laugh. Oh, how he missed his favorite problem while walking through the vast expanse of Hisui.

"Oh, and before I forget, I did get something in Hisui that reminded me of you." He leaned over the arm of the couch to reach the basket he had brought with him. "Emmet, I want you to meet Impostermet. I hope you two will play nicely."

Emmet left a bark of a laugh, he couldn't believe that, depite being stuck in the past, his brother was still able to find their bootleg merch.

"Impostergo is a part of a set now! I can not believe you, Ingo!"

"Since we're already on the subject, you didn't burn The Blanket, did you?"

"I think Crustle found it in a day he was very mad and it became rags, sadly, you can find my teeth around the house, I use it to clean."

"That's a terrifying sentence Emmet."

"You have no one to blame but yourself. I never told you to buy that fucking monstrosity in the first place."

"Oh, how terrible my brother is, I buy a gift of his likeness to bestow upon him and that's how he thanks me."

"If I wasn't so happy to have you back I would fucking kill you right now."

"As if you ever could, I'm the bigger twin after all."

"We're identical, you fuck!"

And that's how they ended up wrestling on the floor of their living room, Ingo having his brother in a headlock while Emmet kicked and refused to surrender. Eelektross glared at his trainer and his brother's antics, before giving a slight shock to the pile of squirming limbs, making them release each other with pained yelps.

"Eelektross is right, we have far more important things to do."

"Eelektross is always right! He is the best boy! We need to go to a police station and then do a looooot of paperwork to prove you're alive and to get you your job back."

"Maybe I should have stayed in Hisui."

"Oh no, you're not running away from the paperwork!"

"I think I can hear Sneasler calling me, Emmet, I have to go."

"Come back here, Ingo!"

"Well, who arrives first at the station is free from paperwork!"

"You're already at the door, that's not fair! Ingo! Ingo, stop!"

The twins should be thankful that their pokemon were as intelligent as they were, Chandelure stopped the siblings using psychic, while bringing them back to get their pokeballs and properly lock the door, before they actually teared down the streets, throwing quips at each other and laughing until they were red in the face. They tied at the end, as Emmet saw Ingo was about to win, and decided to tackle his brother inside the station, making them end up crossing the threshold at the same time. Ingo could only wheeze as his brother fell on top of him and crushed all of his precious organs, only moving when the depot agents came over, helping them stand up and properly welcoming back the siblings to their home, finally together once more.

[sweetreveriee]

Averygrayson Headcanons Before Bed!!

yes, i ship avery and grayson. i don't think jameson is all that. no, i do not think he is a cheater. i know that averyjameson is already endgame. please don't come at me in the comments/reblogs.

(read my ao3 fic This Game Can't Last Forever (by zinnias_on_venus) for more averygrayson content from me, i update at least once a week)

OK TO THE HEADCANONS

• Avery and Grayson love to travel together. Grayson takes a bunch of photos, and its perfect because Avery adores sight seeing.

• Both of them have a tendency to overwork themselves, so sometimes the other will force them to take a break from Foundation work.

• Speaking of the Foundation, they share an office and they always leave each other little notes on their desks.

• Grayson loves coffee, so Avery always makes him a cup in the mornings.

• They read books together (romance, mystery, historical fiction, you name it) and have really heated (in more ways than one) discussions about the plot and characters.

• Grayson always takes Avery to different plays and musicals. Though not always Broadway, sometimes it's just the local theatre group performing!

• More often then not, they fall asleep cuddling on the couch.

• Grayson loves shopping for Avery.

• He buys her so many clothes, she had to use a second closet.

• On their travel journeys, they always visit poorer cities/countries and donate a bunch of stuff to them.

• Grayson especially loves the kids, and Avery thinks its adorable.

• Avery sometimes gets Grayson to read her children's books, and she thinks it's the funniest thing when he does the voices.

• For her twenty-first birthday, Grayson, with the help of all his brothers, organized a House-wide scavenger hunt, where with each clue there was a gift.

• The final gift was Toby. Grayson had Zabrowski distract E*e while he snuck Toby out. He also had all the contracts burned (don't ask how, Hawthorne magic), so Toby was free.

• Avery cried so much, and she kept thanking Grayson everytime she saw Toby.

• Whenever Avery gets hate comments, Grayson absolutely destroys the person on his NonErrata575 account (he can't use his main one or else he'll get cancelled or some shit idk).

• Avery got him to wear the leather pants again. That's all I'm going to say.

• They shower together, but nothing sexual. Just wash each other's hair and other coupley fluffy stuff.

• Bubble. Baths.

• They both like to swim, and Grayson teaches Avery his favorite strokes.

• Grayson is a better swimmer, but Avery is better at diving and tricks because she used to do gymnastics before her mom died.

• Avery LOVES hanging out with Gigi and Savannah. They drag Grayson along on their girl time though, sometimes, because he's basically "one of the girls" (Gigi said it first) (my friend calls a bunch of boys at my school this)

• They make a gingerbread house together every Christmas Eve, and then eat it while drinking hot chocolate and watching Home Alone (they do it religiously every year).

• Not really Avery and Grayson, but Nash is basically both of their therapists (like they go to him when they need help, not like couples counseling lol).

• Grayson sometimes has really bad days when all he can hear in his head is Em*ly telling him he's not good enough and will never be worthy of Avery.

• He gets really depressed and doesn't talk to Avery, or anyone, at all.

• When that happens, Avery gives him his space, but at night she always makes sure to give him extra kisses and cuddles, and tell him she loves him.

• It always makes him feel better.

• Every year for his birthday, Avery gets him a personalized mug, pen, and a new tie (he loves practical gifts).

• They go on double-dates with Max and Xander, and sometimes Nash and Libby.

• Beach trips every summer. Avery and Grayson absolutely love the summer heat and tropical beaches.

• Grayson also sometimes sets up one of those little fancy tent things that companies do for like couples (idk what they're called but if you've seen one you'll know what I'm talking about), and sometimes Avery does it for him.

• They get a cat to keep Tiramisu company, and name it Canolli.

• They're both allergic to birds.

• Avery makes him wear color suits sometimes (shocker I know).

• Grayson has like an Atlantic accent, which he copied from TV, but sometimes his country slips (kinda like Young Sheldon), and Avery always tries to record those moments.

• Grayson and Libby actually become really good friends because of Avery, and bond over their love of their siblings and cooking/baking.

• Same with Avery and Nash, except they bond over how they like to keep a simple life (for the most part), and didn't really care about having billions.

• Grayson never drinks when Avery does, he needs to make sure he's 100% sober in case she needs him (Grayson would drink, but he can hold his liquor well and doesn't drink a lot).

That's it cause I actually have to sleep now lol, hope you liked them!!

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Either Female or Gender Neutral Perrito Reader (From Puss in Boots: The Last Wish) with Yandere Platonic Gods and Humans who’s very happy-go-lucky, optimistic and dreams to be a Therapist in the future, they’re easily trusting and naive but never fails to see the best in everyone and everything, they even view their traumatic past as a funny story (Their family tried to drown them by tying them up in the filthy and slightly ripped ‘shirt’ their wearing with a stone to make them sink, but they survived and with their positivity, sees they got a ‘free shirt’ from her ‘funny situation), and they’re endlessly loyal and persistent in making friends (Reader is a child, at least 8, and were abandoned when they were about 4 by their family)

-When you first arrived in Valhalla, you were only four, a mere child wearing a dirty, too big shirt, a large rock tied inside of it, and you were soaking wet.

-Anyone who looked at you could tell what happened to you, many feeling pity but also anger, as you were only a child.

-You were quickly adopted by many of the gods and the strongest warriors in Valhalla, and despite your cruel death, you were such a ray of sunshine, always smiling warmly and happy to sit with others to talk with them.

-Brunnhilde took you to a therapist, where you talked about the moment of your death, when your siblings gave you the free shirt and told you they wanted to play a game with you, calling it a funny situation.

-Your bright outlook on life, including your ‘funny situation’ had many of your adopted parents worried for your mental health, worried you were repressing your emotions since it was so traumatic.

-Four years later, now a healthy looking eight-year-old, you were the happiest person in the universe. You had a great big family full of people who loved you, you had a home, well balanced meals three times a day, and you were determined to help as many people as you could.

-Your therapist was amused but also flattered when you decided you were going to be a therapist, wanting to help others like how she helped you, even though you never said anything was wrong, you liked your weekly meetings with her.

-You always saw the best in people, even grumpy people who wouldn’t hesitate to yell at you, to get you away from them as they saw you as a pest.

-You could win anyone over by just being there for him, holding their hands and having such a happy outlook on life.

-Your family however, was very, very protective of you, you were so innocent and full of joy, they wanted to preserve that joy for you.

-If they saw someone being mean to you, you had at least ten different parental figures standing behind you, sending glares to whoever dared to be mean to you, forcing them to give you a chance, but you always wound up with a new friend by the end of the day.

-If someone made you cry, you were instantly in the arms of one of your many mother figures, from Eve to one of Shiva’s wives or one of the Valkyries, while all of your father figures were dragging the offending party away, telling you they were going to have a talk with them.

-You were overjoyed when one of your older, adult big brothers arrived in Valhalla, running over to hug him and he was shocked to see you there, demanding to know why.

-You just beamed brightly, telling him that you both were dead and you dragged him to meet your new family.

-You were sad, cuddling with Raiden when your big brother left without saying goodbye, but Zeus patted your head, “He said he had something very important come up and to tell you that he said goodbye.”

-You were quick to smile and bounce back, “I hope he comes back to visit soon! I wanted to show him where I play with the other kids.”

-Your family just smiled warmly down at you, hoping the same thing, knowing full well that he was never going to come back.

-But you didn’t need to know that.

-It would make you sad if you knew the truth, and they couldn’t stand seeing you sad.

[fleckficgirl]

Arthur Under the Mistletoe 🎄

Summary: You throw a party on Christmas Eve that doesn’t go as planned...but in the very best of ways. Extremely fluffy oneshot and the title speaks for itself :)

Warnings: mental illness

Word Count: 2087

Notes: I was inspired by @jokerownsmysoul​‘s recent post about who she’d kiss under the mistletoe. Obviously, I’m choosing Arthur Fleck as well! Be sure to listen along to the Christmas album hyperlinked in the story, too. Hope you enjoy ❤️❤️

“This is a disaster!” you wailed. “Why did I think anyone would ever come to my party?”

Your tear-filled eyes finally overflowed and you buried your face in your hands.

You realized what a sight you must be: young woman in a sparkly pink party dress and white heels, sitting in her own empty apartment, crying unconsolably...and on Christmas Eve, no less. 

Throwing this party was an idea you’d discussed with your therapist a couple weeks prior. You hadn’t thrown a party since childhood, but the idea had sparked your imagination. Deciding you were going to be more outgoing and invite people over for the first time since you moved to Gotham six months ago had gotten your creative juices flowing. 

You'd invited everyone on the eighth floor, including some of the neighbors downstairs you'd chatted with a couple of times. Now you laughed ruefully at yourself for having gotten so excited about decorating the apartment, planning a menu, music and games....only to be stood up by everyone at your own party.

This gathering was supposed to make you feel less alone. But now you felt more lonely than ever. 

You glanced around your festive living room and kitchen. You’d decorated the walls with Christmas garland. A Jolly Christmas from Frank Sinatra was playing on the record player. A full bowl of punch sat in a large, untouched crystal bowl on the coffee table, along with cookies, cake, chips and finger sandwiches. 

And mistletoe. You’d bought mistletoe and placed it over the front door. You’d also gotten dressed up and put makeup on (which wasn’t the easiest thing to do when dealing with depression). But the party had been set to start at seven and it was now a quarter past eight. The writing was on the wall: no one was coming. 

You stood up from the sofa, figuring it was time to start cleaning up. Dejectedly, you made your way over to the record player and turned it off, knowing the joyful, nostalgic tunes would only depress you further. 

A small knock at the door made you jump out of your skin. You froze. Had you actually heard that, or was it your imagination? Afraid of what might be on the other side, you tiptoed to the door and peered through the peephole. 

Was that....Arthur Fleck? From 8J down the hall?

You'd run into him a couple of times in the elevator, but only spoken once, during the garbage strike earlier that year. He was shy and sweet. And beautiful. So beautiful, in fact, that you’d gotten completely tongue tied around him...had found yourself blathering some incoherent nonsense about how pretending that the streets smelled like pine needles - your favorite scent - was the only thing keeping you sane through the strike. 

Deep in the back of your mind you'd hoped he would show up tonight. You wiped the tears from your eyes - not wanting him to see you see you upset - and opened the door.

The sight of him now almost made your heart leap into your throat, and you had to remind yourself to breathe. Arthur was wearing a crisp blue cardigan, and his beautiful brown hair was combed back in loose curls. He’d dressed up for the party and looked even more handsome than you’d remembered. 

“Hi, Arthur,” you squeaked.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.” Arthur held up a small wrapped gift with a bow on it. “Sorry I’m late. I had a gig that ended at seven and raced back over here to change first.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you replied, letting him inside. “You’re...actually the only one who showed up.” 

Arthur stepped into your living room and spun around, surprised. “I’m the only one here?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, trying not to break into tears again. “So if you don’t wanna stick around, I understand.”

“But everything looks so beautiful.” Arthur pointed at the garland on the walls. “And you look...especially nice tonight.” He stepped over to the record player. “I love this album. Do you mind if I put it on?”

You sniffed. “Wait...you mean...you wanna stay?”

“Only if you don’t mind having me.”

You shook your head. You were still reeling with disappointment - this wasn’t at all the party you’d imagined - but you were grateful that at least one person had showed up. Even more grateful that that person was Arthur. 

“Please stay,” you responded, a small smile spreading over your face. “I’d love it if you stayed.” 

Arthur beamed and turned the record player back on.

“Can I get you some punch?” you offered, moving towards the coffee table. 

“Sure!” His eyes lit up, almost glittering. “Except, if it has alcohol in it I really shouldn't mix that with my medications...”

“Nope, alcohol-free,” you smiled as you poured him a glass. “And feel free to help yourself to any of the snacks.” 

Arthur took the glass from you and sat next to you on the sofa. “What made you want to throw a Christmas party?”

“Well,” you mulled the question over. “I've been feeling kinda down...kinda lonely. I have some...problems with depression.”

“I know what that feels like,” Arthur said. “To feel lonely, I mean. And sad.” 

“I can get extra sad around the holidays,” you continued. “And I couldn’t fly home to see my family this year. So I thought...maybe I could invite people over. Maybe I’m not the only one who has a hard time at Christmas.” 

"Well I’m glad you threw the party. And I'm really glad you invited me,” Arthur smiled, shyly placing his hand over yours. "When I got your invitation, I knew there was no way I'd miss it.”

“Well, I’m sorry it’s not much of a party,” you lamented. “I guess it's official: all my neighbors hate me. Except you.”

“They don't hate you,” Arthur countered. “They probably just had other plans.”

You paused, taking a thoughtful sip of punch. “You're right,” you nodded. “That's black and white thinking. My therapist tells me I tend to do that. Just because they didn't show up tonight doesn't mean they hate me.”

“You see a therapist?” Arthur cocked his head to one side. “So do I. But all she ever asks me is if I’ve been having any negative thoughts.”

“All I have are negative thoughts!” you joked. Arthur laughed.

“Do you want to open your gift?” he asked. “You don’t have to,” he added quickly. “I read in an etiquette book I got from the library that you're not supposed to open gifts in front of other guests at a party.”

“Well, seeing as how there are no other guests!” you quipped before pausing to raise a sly eyebrow at him. “You checked an etiquette book out from the library?”

“Yeah,” Arthur smoothed back his hair self-consciously. “Well...a party etiquette book. The truth is, I've never been invited to a Christmas party before. Or any parties, really. I wanted to make sure I didn't mess anything up.” 

Giddy at the thought of him sweetly taking the time to research how to behave at your party, you pulled his small gift off the coffee table and held it in both hands. The wrapping was a candy cane pattern and the bow was a simple green shiny ribbon. In that moment you felt that you'd never seen anything so beautiful in your life.

“You wrapped this yourself?”

“Yeah,” he replied sheepishly. “I’m not that good at wrapping, but...I hope you like it.” 

“I love it!” you blurted.

“You don’t even know what it is yet!” Arthur laughed.

Carefully, you peeled away the scotch tape on the side and tore back the wrapping to reveal a small, green candle. Snow-Covered Pines, the label read. 

“I remembered that one time you and I talked in the elevator. You said you liked the scent. Anyway, I saw it at the drugstore and...I thought of you.”

“You remembered that?” Your heart fluttered, feeling embarrassed by the memory all over again, but also touched. “Thank you, Arthur. I love it so much.” 

Arthur was an extremely easy person to talk to. Conversation with others wasn’t something that always came naturally to you, but with him it felt effortless. The next time you glanced back up at the clock, you were shocked to see it was almost ten. 

“Should I put on another record?” Arthur offered as the last song on the Frank Sinatra album spun to an end.

“Sure!” 

Arthur stood up. “You have all the greats here,” he hummed as he mused over your record collection. He selected Nat King Cole’s Christmas album, carefully placing the record onto the turntable before sliding Frank's back into its sleeve. 

“This is my favorite Christmas song!” you clasped your hand to your chest as the familiar notes of the first song poured over your ears. 

Chestnuts roasting on an open fire...

“Mine too,” Arthur paused, looking shy. 

“We have a lot in common, Arthur,” you beamed. 

“Did you...did you want to dance?” he asked in a soft voice. “With me?”

You felt your heart start to pound again. “Yes...” you answered. “Except I’m really bad at it. I might step on your feet.” 

“Well,” Arthur said. “There’s no one here to see you be bad at it. Except me.” 

He extended his hand and helped you up off the sofa, pulling you in close as you moved around your living room together. 

“Wow, Arthur,” you murmured after a moment, surprised at the grace in his movements. “You’re a really good dancer.” 

“I know,” he said with mock overconfidence. You laughed and swatted his shoulder. He dipped you. The song ended, but he didn’t let you go. You never wanted him to, wishing this night - the same evening you’d been so eager to forget just a couple hours earlier - would never come to an end. 

“Hey,” Arthur hummed softly after you’d danced a few more songs. “I'm having a great time...but I should really get back to my mother. I’ve gotta help her get ready for bed.”

You paused, disappointed to see him go, but more than happy that things had turned out exactly as they had tonight.

“I had a really wonderful evening, Y/N. I'm glad I got the chance to talk to you.”

“Me too,” you replied. “If everyone else had shown up, I don't know if you and I would have gotten to talk as much as we did.”

You walked Arthur to the front door. He stopped and turned to face you once more. You paused before moving to open the door for him.

“Hey, Arthur,” you said in a small voice. “It looks like we're standing under the mistletoe.”

Arthur blinked and looked up. "Oh," he swallowed, a blush spreading across his face.

“Did your book say what people are supposed to do when they’re under the mistletoe together?” 

Arthur nodded, throwing his eyes to the floor. “Yeah," he said, “they’re supposed to kiss each other.”

“Are you gonna kiss me, Arthur?”

“I'd like to...” he hummed. “But only...only if you want me to.”

“I want you to."

He was shy at first, trembling slightly as he brought his lips to yours. But once you were united in the embrace, the both of you seemed to relax. His arms wrapped around you, his hand moving to delicately cup the side of your face. Arthur’s lips were even softer than you had fantasized. His skin was warm, his cologne flooded your senses. 

“Merry Christmas, Arthur,” you blushed as the two of you came apart. Your mind was spinning and you felt weak in the knees. 

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.” His eyes were closed, slowly fluttering open as he took your hands into his.

"Maybe....maybe after your mom goes to bed, you could come back and...we could watch The Murray Franklin Show on TV together."

Arthur stared back at you. “You watch the Murray Franklin show?” he asked, eyes wide and incredulous. “I’ve been watching him for years.” 

“So have I. It's his Christmas special tonight, you know.”

“I’d love to watch the holiday special with you.” Arthur’s eyes sparkled. "I'll come back after I finish up at home and we can watch it together.” 

You opened the door for him, lingering in the doorway as he stepped into the hall.

"Oh, and...Arthur?"

"Yes?" he paused, turning to face you.

“Thank you.”

Arthur smiled. "What for?"

"For making my Christmas so special."

Notes: Wishing you a safe & happy holiday season. Thanks so much for reading ❤️❤️ 

[theoihalioistuff]

If you want something to listen to and have an hour to kill, feast your unworthy ears on this production of Medea by (the maybe sometimes surprisingly proto-feminist for a classical greek) Euripides. Fiona Shaw absolutely dominates as Medea, to the point where you're actually almost on board with her infanticide (spoiler?).

You might recognise Shaw from Killing Eve or playing the Therapist in Fleabag (in fact Phoebe Waller-Bridge described Shaw as her "muse" ever since she saw her as Medea when she was 16)

The translation is by Kenneth Mcleish and Frederic Raphael, who with others translated (though sadly I think it's out of print) the entire corpus of greek tragedies adapted to the modern stage. I include it below for those who might want to read along (or just read it). I personally think it's reeeally good (and, though I can only guess by comparing it to other translations, quite faithful to the original greek).

[and-stir-the-stars]

Summary: After the Bite, Evan spent years being manipulated into helping William commit crimes against humanity. Now, William's in jail, Evan is in 21-year-old Mike's custody, and Evan just wants to stay at home taking care of the stray animals he finds in the woods outside. Michael tries to convince his little brother that it's not healthy to hide away in the house for the rest of his life.

Au: saffron pawn au

word count: 1,375

...

“Evan.” 

The sixteen-year-old sitting cross-legged on the couch didn’t move. He didn’t even look up at Michael; his attention stayed glued on the fox laying asleep in his lap as he ran his fingers gently through its fur. 

With a mighty huff through his nose, Michael knelt down in front of the couch so he was eye-level with his younger brother. Evan couldn’t get up and walk away with the fox asleep in his lap, or the squirrel balanced carefully on his shoulder, or the raccoon laying on the couch curled up against his thigh. 

“Evan.” Mike put more care into keeping the gruffness out of his voice this time. “Ev, can you look at me? Please?”

Evan grunted.

Michael waited. He didn’t have anywhere to be; he could kneel here all day if Evan chose to play things the hard way. 

Finally, Evan looked up. His green gaze drilled holes into the lower part of Michael’s face as he adamantly refused to meet Michael’s eye. 

Michael’s chest moved slowly in and out as he took a deep breath, reminding himself that it was okay. Evan didn’t need to meet his eye; he just needed to listen. 

“C’mon, Ev. This isn’t good for you, and you know it.”

“I told you, I’m fine.”

“You’re sixteen. You should be getting out of the house, having fun, being a dumb kid,” Michael corrected. “You should be meeting new people and making friends.” 

“I have friends!” Eyes lifting, Evan looked up at Michael with a glare.

‘Well, at least he’s finally looking you in the eye.’

Michael sighed, as much at the sardonic voice as at Evan’s outburst. “Your animals don’t count,” Mike said firmly.

“Then I don’t need friends.” 

“Yes, you do.”

“That means a lot, coming from the guy whose definition of ‘friend’ is anyone who comes into his stupid parlor more than once. You can’t tell me I’m not normal when the only time you bother leaving the house is going to work or the store because you’re too scared to leave your psycho little brother home alone.” 

Michael blinked at Evan. Blood rushed to his face and anger reddened his cheeks at Evan’s insults. “Low blow, Evan.” 

The fox in Evan’s lap raised its head and looked sleepily around the room as though troubled. 

Evan shrugged, and the squirrel on his shoulder jumped onto the back of the couch and climbed away. Evan watched it go with a frown. “Psycho, remember?”

‘Deep breaths, Michael. Deep breath in, then out…’

“You’re not a psycho.” 

Evan wasn’t looking at him anymore. He wasn’t petting the fox anymore, either; just watched it stand and stretch its legs as though waiting for it to jump away and leave him. “Then I don’t know what I am.” 

“A lonely kid?”

Evan snickered. “That’s what Therapist #5 used to say.” 

“Was that the one with the mole?”

“No, the pink glasses.”

“Riiiiiiight,” Michael clacked his tongue as the memory returned to him. “That’s the one I freaked out when I told her we were moving.” 

Evan rolled his eyes. “You told her that she ‘didn’t have very long left’ after the whole town accused us of being serial killers.”

“I was just talking about the number of therapy sessions she would have left with you!”

Michael knew he shouldn’t, but… he couldn’t help but laugh remembering the way that woman’s eyes had widened, how she had taken a step back and her manicured hand had floated over her heart, how she had looked about five seconds away from passing out like some dramatic Hollywood actor…

Evan’s lips flickered upward in a brief smile, too.

With its legs apparently sufficiently stretched, the fox curled up again in Evan’s lap, and the sixteen-year-old reached out to scratch the underside of its chin. As though jealous of the attention, the raccoon at Evan’s side stood and crawled into Evan’s lap as well, and the kid reached out to pet it with his other hand. 

“Listen, Ev,” Mike started carefully. “I’m just… trying to be honest here. I know what it’s like to… to lock yourself away from the world. I did it all the time when I was your age– hell, I did it when I was younger than you, and you’re right. I still do it now, because… I felt like I wasn’t good enough. Like… like just existing in the world would be a punishment for everyone around me.”

Memories flooded Michael’s mind. Being pushed away and rejected as a kid until the only people he could surround himself with were a group of delinquent kids who did nothing but encourage each other’s worst tendencies; hiding his face behind a Foxy mask because he couldn’t bare to look at himself in the mirror and he needed to be something other than the stupid, weak little kid he saw there; the months when Evan had been in his coma and Michael would find notes that read ‘murderer’ in dripping red paint stuffed inside his locker; staying locked inside his room for days in fear of their father or his teachers or his classmates taking out their anger and judgement on him…

“I know what that’s like,” Micheal whispered. “I know how awful it is, and I know that I don’t want that for you, Ev.” 

The smile was gone from Evan’s face, replaced by shiny eyes and the splotchy red color his cheeks always got just before he cried. 

“Please, please, promise me you won’t lock yourself away.” 

Evan shook his head, though it didn’t look like an answer so much as him being overwhelmed and confused and hurt. 

“You don’t have to do anything big, just– something, Ev. I… I even called around, and… did you know there’s an animal shelter looking for volunteers not far from here?”

Evan’s teary eyes lifted to meet Michael’s. For a second, he seemed touched by the olive branch Michael had extended him. But the hope died in his eyes quicker than it had appeared. 

“Th-they’ll just find out what I a-am, and– and then we’ll have to move again. There’s n-no point.” 

“Or,” Michael said. “Or maybe they’ll see how much you love animals, how good you are at taking care of them, and they’ll be happy for the help. Maybe you’ll make a friend or two.” 

Evan was already shaking his head. “They won’t want me, Mikey. They won’t, they w-won’t, they won’t! You didn’t ev-even want me; why the hell would they?!” 

Michael’s eyes squeezed closed for an awful few seconds. There it was. 

Standing up, Michael stopped kneeling in front of Evan and moved to sit beside him on the couch. 

Evan leaned away from him on instinct, but he couldn’t move very far with the animals still on his lap.

“I love you, Evan. And I know– I know– if you give the right people the chance, they will, too.”

Evan’s entire body was shaking now, one of his hands floating up to his face and covering his mouth as he sobbed with his head low enough that his chin practically touched his chest. 

The raccoon and fox on Evan’s lap seemed to look at each other for a moment. Then, the raccoon got to its feet and scurried away. The fox followed not long after, and a fresh sob ripped from Evan’s chest as it left. 

Michael’s hands fluttered in the air, unsure if he should try to comfort Ev or if this was one of the times when touch would make it worse. 

Evan ended up answering that for him by burying his face against Michael’s shoulder and pounding his fists against his big brother’s chest. 

With a strangled gasp as he was suddenly winded, Michael grabbed at Evan’s hands. He transferred Evan’s wrists into one hand, keeping his little brother’s hands pinned down as he wrapped his free arm around Evan. 

“I hate you,” Evan sobbed. “I hate you, I hate you, I HATE YOU!”

“It’s okay,” Michael whispered as Evan trembled in his arms and tried yanking his hands out of Michael’s grip. The words felt awkward on his tongue despite the echoes in his mind of countless therapists harping on about how important it was to communicate now. “I am not going to let you hurt me, but you can let it all out, Ev. It’s okay.” 

Evan just sobbed louder.