#how therapy is supposed to be used to actually see results.

[jvzebel-x]

🦋

[toomanyideasandfandoms]

Idk if you're still taking requests but imagine one day Kazuha finds Creator's death note diary and finds a bunch of names. Realizing those are the people who killed the Creator before, he went "Ykw, I'm giving Our Holy One some therapy with the help of my friends" and kidnaps grabs Fischl, Mona, Xinyan, and finally you for an adventure-therapy or something something-

*cutely inserts Tomo breakdancing in Celestia*

PFFT that would be obviously hilarious and adorable.

I can definitely see the group having so much fun, probably telling stories of their lives that aren't mentioned in game. Maybe the creator also gaining information on how these specific characters views others. Like Mona's views of Fontaine or something.

Bonus if where they went was towards those summertime event islands.

But if we're considering Death Seeking Creator (I should probably make it known if those who send in asks don't want me to talk about Death Seeking please just tell me cause otherwise I'll just assume and we know what happens when assuming) though I don't think it would be possible considering he also was someone who killed the creator. Now I don't think he did it out of pure religious reasons, he's more level headed than that. He's someone who only kills "imposters" out of mercy, like Kaeya actually.

He makes it as quick and painless as possible, sometimes having done sneak attacks (so in the diary, the entries would only mention what the day as like before they write about them suddenly seeing darkness and then waking up in another nation). Not too mention the creator would use every single opportunity to experience another death.

They definitely would question Kazuha on why he's doing this, maybe even have some small breakthrough of where they're screaming at him and hurling insults that were thrown their way. Just absolutely trying to beat a dead horse essentially of why they have to die and that they don't understand why everyone is suddenly saying the opposite.

Tbh this makes me think of how confusing any therapy would be for Death Seeking Creator, because I can imagine them as this childishly stubborn person who refuses to see it as any other way purely because everything they did, they tried to do to change the outcome, always resulted in death no matter what. Peaceful talks? They couldn't get a word in before being sliced down. Fighting like a wild animal? Like they could defeat a god with their bare hands. Hiding and never greeting another person? They're always found out somehow, it's like the characters are drawn to them. Disguises? Even that doesn't work. Nothing they did work. So it had to be destiny right? They had to have this role of constant death? Why? Who fucking knows? They're not a god, they were never supposed to be a god. Why question the ways of a being they have no comprehension of how they think? It would be better to just play the role given, to be the the target every hunter wants. To be that white rabbit that gets chased by Alice throughout the story. But how they go? Well that'll be up to them, if the gods want some sick entertainment, why not make it more interesting?

[lemotmo]

I'm so sorry I already sent you one today but this is the one I've been waiting for her to be asked. I sent the question and the answer. EVERYONE READ THIS ANSWER! EVERYONE READ THIS ANSWER! THIS THIS THIS THIS THIS!!! Oh please! Oh please!

Q. Do you think it would be possible for Buck to ever get to a place where he would be comfortable going by Evan? And since you keep saying it, what is the point of Tommy if he is just a plot point?

A. Hi anon, first of all I want to say that I'm stunned given how often I have said the words Tommy and plot point that this is the first time I've been asked that question, so thank you! I personally don't see Buck ever getting to a place where he wants to go by Evan again. I think he associates Evan with the kid nobody wanted. The son who was born strictly to give life to his older brother. The kid who never felt like he belonged anywhere. The kid who wasn't wanted by anyone. Maddie occasionally calling him Evan is fine, Maddie was the one person he believed loved Evan. Eddie calling him Evan when he's trying to make sure he's actually listening to what Eddie is saying to him is also fine, because he knows how Buck feels about the name, and he knew that calling him Evan would ensure Buck knew he was being serious. I also think if Buck ever did decide to 'reclaim' the name it would 100% be a canon conversation. It's a series long theme for Buck. It would absolutely not be an off screen conversation.

Now to Tommy. I hope this all makes sense, lol. So walk with me, anon. I think Tommy is a version of Eddie that Buck is allowed to admit he's attracted to. I think that's why Tommy 'worked' in the first four episodes, especially 7x4. We were seeing the parts of him that were similar to Eddie. He was likeable when we could see bits of Eddie, that's why the dialogue made a point of telling the audience that Tommy and Eddie had similarities (if they had been able to stick with the original plan of it being Eddie who he was supposed to kiss Tommy would have had similarities to Buck, but when they had to swap Eddie for Buck, Tommy's personality changed as well, hence plot point). I think the reason he felt so different in every scene after 7x4 was because then the show was highlighting all the ways he's different from Eddie. And how they don't fit with Buck. They're unflattering differences where Buck is concerned. Not necessarily bad but certainly wrong for Buck. It started with their differing participation levels at the bachelor party. The show made a point of showing us that Eddie fully committed and matched Buck freak for freak, while Tommy began his pattern of indifference. Eddie represents a lot of things Buck's never had before, and as a result Buck doesn't think to examine what his feelings for Eddie actually are. He just long ago put them in a very particular box inside of him that has just always belonged to Eddie. He accepts Eddie Is just different from everyone else but doesn't look too closely at why. His relationship with Tommy will force him to examine those feelings. It's also how Buck and Eddie get their own plot within what will essentially be the same storyline, the buildup to Buddie.

I think Eddie will be able to admit to his feelings for Buck easier than Buck will be able to admit to his feelings for Eddie. Eddie's spiral will come from realizing his sexuality. Buck's spiral will come from realizing his true feelings for Eddie. Buck has deep, deep abandonment issues. And admitting he's in love with Eddie and having to decide whether or not to explore the possibility of a real relationship would also require accepting that if the relationship doesn't work, they won't be able to go back to what they are now. Things would inevitably be different. That will terrify Buck. Eddie is already at rock bottom. We will see him rebuild himself from the ground up. I still think his sexuality stuff will somehow come up in therapy and because of his upbringing, his Catholic background, coupled with his military background that realization will terrify Eddie. And he will fight it. But I think once he comes to terms with it realizing he's in love with Buck will be a natural conclusion, 'I'm into men of course I'm in love with Buck'. I think for Eddie realizing his feelings for Buck will actually be a sense of relief. So although I think Buck will arrive at the beginning of their relationship more physically prepared. I think Eddie will arrive more emotionally prepared.

I think Ryan and Jennifer both saying they wanted scenes together was actually them telling us that Eddie and Maddie will actually have scenes together this season. That puts Maddie in the perfect position to point out the Tommy/Eddie thing to Buck. Something that Buck is currently, blissfully ignorant of. I also think Ryan saying he wants Eddie to have more scenes with Karen was also letting us know that they will indeed share scenes this season. I think Karen is who Eddie will confide in. She's involved enough to know how big a deal it is, but separate enough that Eddie won't feel like she's watching his every move with regards to Buck. Obviously the details I've described are up for debate, and of course subject to change, but I do think overall this is the story they are telling. Right now Tommy is surface level similar to Eddie enough for Buck to be attracted to but at some point the real Eddie will be a real option. What will Buck do at that point.

This got very long, lol. I'm so sorry! But this is more or less the story I think we're getting. 💗

Okay, I just woke up and I have very little time to answer to this, so I'm just going to post this without adding anything. It doesn't really need anything added to it, to be honest. This answer is, once again, perfect. Thank you OP!

I fully agree with everything in this post!

And remember, Lou said in a cameo that he couldn't call Buck by his own chosen nickname, but that he HAS to use his full name: Evan. Another red flag right there.

Thank you Nonny for dropping it in the askbox!

Remember, no hate in comments or reblogs. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of the anonymous OP’s posts, you can find all of their posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[antariies]

how to build a chair........... director's cut ∠( ᐛ 」∠)__ this is about to be a very long very self-indulgent post where i just talk about my own writing. i also doodled on all the pages i think it makes the whole thing more fun to go thru. welcome to my ted talk

SIKE before i begin. credit where credit is due, this post was the start of it all. it changed my brain chemistry my jaw was dropped i was in awe i was obsessed and before i even finished it i knew that i would eventually have to make something similar for the commander or else i would be cursed to think about it for the rest of my life. and i Was cursed for like two years every day i would just be like........ is today the day i sit down and draft the commander chair fic of my dreams....... maybe tomorrow......

and then i got accepted as a writer for the gw2 zine ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ the chair idea was actually my backup option in case my first idea didn't pan out, and thank god it didn't, bc this one worked so much better. (still working on my initial idea, just turning it into a full fic! it was wayyy too long to be a zine submission.)

this is the chair i used. i downloaded the assembly instructions and tried out a bunch of different free pdf editors until i found one i liked, which ended up being sedja. if anyone's interested in doing something like this, i recommend printing out the pdf and writing directly on it! it was a lot easier for me to just figure out everything on paper first and then digitalize it after :P here's a picture of my physical copy

okay actually getting into it for real this time !!!!!

1. yeah i could've just erased the ikea logo and left a blank space but then i realized i could turn it into an in-universe joke. and then i ran with it.

2. i ripped this straight from the product description on the website. thanks ikea

3. i'm not sure if anyone went and looked it up, but it's a real item code!

hehe :3c

4. if your commander willingly goes to therapy i'm happy for them but TO ME? you'd have to drag the commander kicking and screaming. it's not that they don't know that something is wrong with them, they know, and they know YOU know. you're just never supposed to talk about it. they don't look at their own psych eval results bc that's none of their business.

5. i normally avoid specifying the commander's race when i write them bc i enjoy the challenge, but for the zine i was assigned to write about a norn commander! as a human main i was uhhhh very ill-equipped. but that just meant i had to study up on my norn lore (•̀ᴗ•́)و i spent hours on the wiki, then went around interviewing norn mains for their opinions, which was great fun :D it all helped me narrow the focus of my piece: joining the war on commander objectification on the side of commander objectification (ㅅ´ ˘ `)♡ and no one self-aggrandizes quite like the norn commander!

and to balance that i knew my narrator had to be patronizing as shitttt. they've clearly been following the commander since the beginning and seem to know a lot of intimate details about their life, despite not thinking very highly of them. wonder who that could be :3c

6. i can't stop making references. so the original part number is actually #122620 in the manual but i've changed it here (and on the previous page!) to #082812, as in 08/28/12, the date gw2 was released! no real reason for it, @dalennaugw suggested it for funsies and i liked it. if you're my pal and i show you a wip and you have a cool idea for it, chances are i Will put that shit in. hi dale if you're reading this

7. another thing about me. i loveeee repetition. here the word "over" is repeated four times to match the picture. honestly a lot of the creative process for this piece was just staring at the pages and figuring out how to tie the pictures to the commander in ways that weren't extremely corny or trite. idk why i enjoy writing like this when i could be frolicking in the beautiful prosaic meadows of a word doc instead but. it's like i see a tiny little restrictive box and i'm like OH BOY can't wait to think inside of that thing!!! i like when the format matters just as much as the content and in some cases informs the content. am i making any sense here. well all you need to know is that i'm a virgo and my favorite book is house of leaves

7. aw fuck just realized i wrote 7 twice. whatever i'm not changing it this is 7 part two now. the theme of my piece is glory, what it means to the norn commander, and how far they're willing to go for it.

8. does norn culture place emphasis on seeking individual glory Yes are norn also very community-oriented Also Yes. i think it's common to see norn kids napping together in a big pile, usually after they've worn themselves out playing games outside. it makes sense practically (apes together warm) and socially (pack bonding good) but that's just my hc. growing up i used to share a bed with my cousins all the time so it's normal to me.

a young, naive not-yet-commander, with no real combat experience, has no point of reference to compare a "blaze of glory" to. but the way everyone talks about it, it must be a good thing. a wonderful thing. a reward fit for a life well-fought and a legend hard-earned. so they imagine it must feel like falling asleep surrounded by the people they love, who love them in turn.

9. .........i was playing a lot of ace attorney when i wrote this page. i wish i was joking 👍🏼

10. ohhh shit the truth come OUT this whole chair thing was all a ploy just so i could write about the departing. again.

will i ever stop thinking about her. reply hazy, try again later.

11. out of all the pages, this one has the most emphasis on text placement, like comparing the enlarged picture of the screw to a sword, the numbers counting the screws, and "up up up" being arranged to mimic a wisp of smoke.

i also wanted to lean into the viking/norse mythology influences with my word choice.

12. more nods to norn culture. i didn't know they referred to the six human gods as "spirits of action" until i was doing the research for this piece :O

and the domain of the lost is called a hall of ghosts....... cause valhalla.....

13.

i'm sorry this so funnyyy. SAYS the guy who literally clawed their way back to life for a rematch.

me when i'm in a sore loser competition and my opponent is the COMMANDER!!!

14. arms as in "limbs" and also arms as in "armaments" :•]

15. haha get it because the picture makes it look like there are two mirrored speech bubbles while the text paints two opposing interpretations of the norn commander. one that's selfless and humble versus one that's selfish and vainglorious.

16. and the best part is IT DOESN'T MATTER which one is true bc at the end of the day no matter what their motivation, balthazar is dead by their hand. ofc i'm of the opinion that the most compelling interpretation of the commander is both, simultaneously. contradictions are good for the soul.

17. i could've name-dropped kas, the only person present that would do something like that, but i felt it was better to leave it ambiguous.

18. low-hanging fruit. the metaphor was so obvious here but i had to do it. for the culture

19. the alternate title for this piece was "THIS COULD BE GLORY". "how to build a chair" was only supposed to be a placeholder title til i figured out a better one, but the innocuousness of it grew on me. also i came up with the other one too late and had already advertised under the chair title lol

20. my first instinct was to end it with something more reassuring, like "what you have built so far is enough" but that would've been an ooc switch-up for a narrator who has been nothing but snide and detached this whole time. gotta stick to my guns

21.

obligatory chair joke as the last line. for realsies though it’s meant to be an earnest appeal to the commander to take a break, to have a seat, but it’s also a challenge. are they willing to lean on their friends? are the bonds they’ve forged strong enough to hold their weight? are they willing to put their faith in someone else’s hands? are they brave enough to try? well. only one way to find out.

also guess what that wasn’t even the real last page of the manual. it's THIS

but no way i was letting this be the image we ended on. IT LOOKS LIKE A DICK AND BALLS!!!

and on that note, THANK YOU if you made it this far!! a very special shout-out to @hawkepockets, my lovely boyfriend and beta reader, without whom this piece would not be nearly as polished. i would bring him pages to look over and he would say Scrap half of those lines you can do better than that. kill your darlings. i would complain and argue for a few minutes then we would revise. rinse and repeat until we had honed this thing to perfection. i can't stress enough the importance of having a second pair of eyes on your work throughout your creative process, even better if it's someone who challenges you. i don't even pay him 🫶🏼

and if there was anything i didn't cover that you still have questions about, please feel free to shoot me an ask! (ㅅ´ ˘ `)♡ thanks for reading! see u later dudes ;P

[atinylittlepain]

Part Two

no outbreak!joel miller x f!oc

series playlist

joel miller masterlist

series masterlist

She's tired. He's tired. They're neurotic. They're in love. Something needs to change. They need to change.

word count | 5.1k

chapter content info | 18+ little angst, couples counseling, just two tired people trying to figure out the tangle of their relationship together

a/n | part two is here, and i'd just like to say thank you to everyone being so kind about the first part - i know this isnt the usual peepaw fare, so thanks for giving her a chance - and also big thank you to @wannab-urs for beta-ing this bad boy <3

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

This is not a failure. She is not failing. They are not failing. Every Thursday at four o’clock she shuts her laptop and locks her office and stops in the bathroom at work, silently repeats these things to herself in her mind while she rubs her fingers at smudged mascara in the bathroom mirror. Like a mantra, though she’s not sure she’s fully bought into it yet. Because the truth is, she has had plenty of conversations with plenty of girlfriends that, really, they shouldn’t have been having about other girlfriends, not in the room with us girlfriends who, did you hear, started going to therapy and, did you hear, started going to therapy with their, oh no, husbands. Yes, she has been the bitch who has made jokes about death knells and a marriage’s last gasp for breath, jokes about the husband having the emotional range of a goldfish, and the wife being so up the husband’s ass she should give him a colonoscopy while she’s at it. She’s not really making jokes like those anymore. 

She’s not supposed to be doing what she’s doing this Thursday at four o’clock. When they first went to Vicky (LMFT, for the record) her fundamental decree had been a period of full separation. Sixteen years, she had asked, and they had nodded, and she had said whoa boy, yeah, y’all need to back off each other before we do anything else. If Paula Dean had a penchant for self-help instead of butter, she’d be something like Vicky. And so, with all the care of a drill sergeant delivering commands, or a mechanic running a diagnostic on a fucked-up car, Vicky had told them how this is going to go. An apartment, she said, don’t care which one of you lives in it. Minimal contact between sessions, right, keep it civil, right, this isn’t for forever, right. So Joel got an apartment, and Tommy helped him move all the furniture in the basement with admittedly minimal, but still present, wariness, and for the last four weeks they’ve been doing everything their beloved herr-therapist tells them. She supposes it’s working, although you can’t really do much fighting when you only see the other person for ninety minutes every Thursday so, the results might be confounded, actually.

“Hey there.” Hey there? What the fuck, what the actual fuck. He doesn’t think he’s ever said those words to her, ever, maybe not to anyone actually. He feels a little insane, a little itchy under the skin, mouth full of cotton, brain too, because they’re not supposed to be doing this, not really. The first time she’s seen the apartment, or, well, the doorway of the apartment, doesn’t really seem interested in stepping further inside, running her curled palm up and down the strap of her purse and right, not here for that. He shuts the door behind him and then they’re on their way to therapy because it’s four o’clock on Thursday and this is what they do now at four o’clock on Thursday.

“Thanks again. I didn’t think my car would still be in the shop today.”

“Oh of course, you said it’s a transmission leak?” 

“Yeah, the bad, expensive kind that’s above my paygrade. Guy said they’re still waiting on a part for it.”

“Well I’m off work tomorrow if you need a ride anywhere.”

“Vicky’ll get pissed.”

“If she finds out. Are you gonna tell on me to Vicky?” It’s a joke, they can joke, right? She laughs a little on the end of her words to make it clear, hey, it’s a joke, awkward and out of touch and unsure of what the rules are. But he offers a breath of a laugh, at least, fine, it’s fine, they’re fine, and now they’re silent driving to Vicky’s office. 

Should he ask her how her week has been? If the kitchen sink is still leaking? He’s not sure. Not sure about any of it, really. Every week, Vicky asks them how they think they’re doing and Cass doesn’t even hesitate. Good, she says. Not fine, not okay, but good, usually with a sure, terse nod. It takes him a little longer to find the right word to describe how he’s doing. Not sure about that either, but it’s definitely not good. Some things are better, sure, easier not to argue when under foot, easier not to remember all the ghosts they’ve built up around themselves. But at the most basic level, he misses her, even misses arguing with her, in a perpetual state of missing something, walking around and wondering if he left his wallet at home, or if he remembered to call a client about a new build, wondering if he’s missing something essential, a limb or an organ he didn’t know about. No, none of that. Missing something else.

“You’re not wearing your ring.” She flexes her left hand over the steering wheel in response, her very bare ring finger making him feel a quick pinch of something he’ll call anger, though it’s probably something else entirely. 

“No, Vicky advised I try not wearing it during the separation.”

“Why the fuck would she tell you to do that?”

“Joel.”

“I’m just asking.”

“You’re swearing.”

“Well, why didn’t she say the same thing to me?”

“Maybe because I told her this is how you would react.”

“I think I’m having a pretty normal reaction to it, actually.”

“It’s not a big deal. It’s just for now.”

“Right.”

“It is.” 

“Seems like a strange thing to advise someone to do when they’ve been married for nearly two decades.” She parks outside of the office complex that Vicky works in, lets out a long sigh through her nose and doesn’t spare him a glance as she reaches around to the backseat and pulls her purse up front, producing her ring from somewhere deep inside of it and sliding it back on her finger. 

“There, are you happy now?”

“Why the hell were you keeping it in your purse?”

“Oh my god, really?”

“That’s a real easy way to lose it is all I’m saying.” The truth is, she’s been keeping it in her purse in order to have easy access to it. Like a pulsepoint, sometimes she just needs to know it’s there, reaching into her purse underneath her desk and yep, still there, still okay. Sometimes she doesn’t get through a whole day without putting it back on. Like reflex, like ghost limb aching. But she’s not about to tell him that.

“Do not bring this up with Vicky.”

“Why not?”

“Because then she’ll know we drove here together.”

“You’re that worried about what Vicky thinks?”

“She’s our therapist, I’m a healthy and appropriate amount worried about what Vicky thinks.” 

“You know she’s not the arbiter of marriage just because she has a couple of degrees, right?”

“Really, the arbiter of marriage?” 

“Are you doing that thing you do, is that what this is?”

“What thing?” 

“Cass.”

“What thing?”

“Are you trying to win therapy?” Fuck him. No, really, fuck him. He’s doing that thing, his thing to her thing, half a smile in the passenger’s seat like he’s got her. Awful, of course he’s got her, smug and sure in his getting her. She doesn’t answer his question, knowing that her silence is an answer in and of itself and not really caring because they have therapy, damn it, and it’s going to be his fault if they’re late to therapy, damn it.

“You know, I’m starting to see why Vicky told us no carpooling to sessions.” Slammed shut, he sighs when she gets out of the car, thinking idly to himself that yes, he doesn’t necessarily disagree with that commandment of their therapist either. At the very least, Cass’ ring is still on her finger. He tried a few times in the past to get her something new, something nicer than the gold band he had given her when they were still young and still not able to afford much of anything, but sure enough in each other to want to keep doing it, all of it, together. No, she would tell him, doesn’t want anything other than the gold band. What she doesn’t know is that he pawned his grandfather’s watch and an electric saw for the ring the shop owner kept in a padlocked display case. Twenty-six years old, and looking back, he thinks he would have sold a whole lot more just to get it for her. 

He used to call her pearl. Something about grit that would make her roll her eyes and ask him what late night National Geographic TV special he got that line from, all the while inwardly swooning because sure, she had been baby before, babe, an errant sweetheart even, but pearl was new, and tooth-decayingly sweet. And when he proposed, Sarah bouncing around them like a manic cupid, Cassandra made an ugly sound somewhere between a laugh and a cry, little black velvet box and a ring that was more signet than wedding, simple and gold and a single pearl set in the center of it. Her hands clasped, she runs the pad of her finger over her ring, wordless and worrying it on the elevator ride up to Vicky’s office. 

Vicky has a thing for lamps and art prints of naked women. Her waiting room is a little dim, no windows, green velveteen loveseat and two high-backed wooden chairs that they always take when they get here, his eyes scanning over the coffee table laden with back-ordered Psychology Today magazines, headlines about overcoming anxiety and exercising your way out of depression. There had been one about postpartum  depression somewhere in the pile the last time they came, but he had made a point of hanging back after Cass left, some excuse about checking an insurance thing with Vicky, though what he really did was pluck out that magazine and throw it away in the men’s restroom down the hall. One less thing to worry about, at the least. 

“Hi, you two, come on back.” The sessions always start the same. Vicky asks them how they think the week went, and they both offer up some iteration of fine. Vicky asks them if they’ve been upholding their phase of separation, and she answers before Joel can, pointedly not looking at him, yes, no contact between sessions. But apparently, this week is going to be different.

“We are nearing the end of the total separation phase. After this initial period of cooling off for both of you, the real work can begin.” Right, phases, because Vicky works in phases like this is some sort of military siege. He tries not to roll his eyes at the real work beginning. 

“Can either of you remember the last date you went on together?” 

“It would’ve been in August, right before the separation.” Cass scoffs at his answer, tilt of her head like, really?

“Tommy and Maria’s baby shower hardly counts as a date. But we did go to dinner at the end of July.”

“I don’t think your work banquet counts either.” Vicky hits them with that look, that yeah, that’s what I thought look, all raised brow and scrunched nose and nodding. Not that she is, but if she, hypothetically, were trying to win therapy, Cassandra thinks she wouldn’t be doing a great job of it right now.

“Right, well, you’ve made my point for me. It’s not unusual for people who have been together for as long as you two have to let things like this fall to the wayside. However, it can be very helpful to reestablish some of these routines. Think of it as marriage maintenance.” 

“So you want us to start going on dates again?” 

“Yes, but not with each other.” Did she? Did he? Hear that right? Cass is nodding like it’s the most reasonable thing in the world, like, yes, of course, this is just the solution they’ve been looking for. This time, he doesn’t hold back a laugh.

“I’m sorry, what?” Both of them look at him like, yes, keep up, please, let us explain this to you very slowly so you can keep up, please. Something about seeing what life is like outside of their marriage, testing the waters, seeing if they still like the same things without their extra marital limb, something about making a decision about their marriage, though he tunes most of that part out because, no, thanks, no new decision has been needed since he got down on one knee during that trip to Galveston, sunscreen and sticky sweet and he’s not sure if he or Sarah was more excited, but he was definitely more nervous. And Cass said yes, and then he wasn’t nervous anymore, not scared anymore, and that’s all there was to it, is to it, right? Right. 

“This is the closing exercise of the total separation phase. It’s really important that you both have this opportunity to see what it’s like to be back in the dating pool. Think of it as a trial run of if you decide to make this separation–”

“No, no thanks. That’s not– we’re not those people, so, you know, we can just move onto the next phase.” 

“Joel.” The mom voice of all things, and he knows for certain now that Cass is trying to win therapy, nudging her shoe into the side of his, and, come on, really? She’s really bought that hard into what Vicky’s selling? Now that, that isn’t like her, at all. 

“What feelings are coming up for you right now, Joel?” She fucking hates that question, and she imagines that he does too, fingers drumming on his knee, long sigh, and she knows that look, that’s his getting ready to bolt look. Big man, big, skittish man who has accidentally nailed his fingers to house frames and hardly shed a tear. But feelings? Yeah, forget it. 

“Uh, I guess I’m confused as to why that is so important for us to do. We came here to help our– to help us, not to create more problems.”

“And you think that if you and Cassandra went on dates, one date, with other people, that it would create more problems in your marriage?” Well, it’s hardly rocket science, Vicky, though judging by the way she’s speaking to him, he’s pretty sure he failed some kind of test of hers. He doesn’t particularly care.

“I imagine it’d do that to anyone’s marriage.” 

“It’s just one date, it’s a part of the process.” She’s starting to get pissed, and trying very hard not to show it in front of Vicky should she get the what feelings are coming up for you treatment. When they agreed to start going to therapy, like a pair of dogs gagging down a pill, they had both agreed to put their full effort into it, and if Vicky wasn’t in the room with them currently, Cassandra would sharply remind him of that agreement. 

“Maybe I should clarify the expectations around this exercise. It’s one date, preferably with people outside of your shared social circle, and it would be best if the focus is just on the date, no sexual relations.”

“Oh really, you think that’d be best?”

“Joel.” He gives her a slack and slanted look, speaking two different languages, apparently. And really, she doesn’t see what the big deal is. One date versus sixteen years is pretty obvious math for her to square up, though it doesn’t seem to be for him. But, watching him engage in psychological tennis with Vicky, some new jab dripping in sarcasm for every reassurance she tries to offer him, the realization comes to Cassandra slowly, simply. Joel is scared. 

By the time they leave Vicky’s office, he feels deflated, defeated, because yes, they are, apparently, going to do this fucking exercise that fucking Vicky has fucking assigned to them, scheduled in three weeks instead of one to give them time to do this fucking exercise that fucking Vicky has fucking assigned to them. 

“Can’t we just, you know, say we did it but not actually do it?” 

“Are you serious right now?” Judging by the look she gives him, a quick, sharp flicker of her eyes before she focuses back on the road, he thinks he probably shouldn’t say anything else. He shouldn’t, but, well. 

“Is this about pleasing Vicky, or are you just that interested in dating someone else?”

“Don’t be a child about this, Joel. It’s a therapeutic–”

“It’s bullshit is what it is. I don’t– I already know what I want, and I don’t need to go testing the waters to be sure of it. What I’m not so sure about is if you can say the same.” She can’t put her finger on anything specific,  probably just a slow-building amalgamation of things. Stressful week at work, and the leaking sink getting worse, and her doctor increasing a medication dosage that’s made her body feel like something other than her body, and this fucking therapy and this fucking trying and she’s trying so hard and she feels like she’s failing and when she glances at him he looks hurt, really hurt, a close crumple in his face, deep frown, and it frustrates her because all she’s trying to do is do it right, and all she gets is this constant rhythm of resistance, this push and pull and yes, it’s all of that, all of that creeping up her throat tight and hot and curling behind her eyes sending salt pinpricks and sharp pangs. When the first sob breaks, it does so as a gasp, like a small and stunned thing in her chest. And, well, it’s never uphill from there, is it?

“Do you– do we need to pull over?”

“No, I don’t need to fucking pull over. I’m not an invalid, I can cry and drive at the same time.” Except it doesn’t come out quite like that, not smooth like that. The words get stop-started with each new shudder, new stutter, hiccuping on fucking and invalid. The world has gone to slanted stained-glass through all her tears. 

Unsure what to do, but that’s nothing new. He doesn’t say anything else, watches her through the wary side of his eye, sobs turning into something more subdued, little wounded sounds high in her throat, a choice fuck you with a little more bite behind it when someone cuts her off merging onto the highway. He feels useless, feels like, maybe, this is what Vicky should be talking with them about instead of her siege on marriage plan. All he knows is that he seems to get it wrong every time, so this time, he doesn’t interject or intervene, doesn’t say any more than he already has. He lets her cry, and he lets her drive.

He doesn’t know when it happened. When he decided he was going to fix things for her, or just fix her, really. His lady in pieces and he was going to put her back together, and it seemed like every time he tried to, she just shattered a little more. That April is the obvious answer, the most shattered he had ever seen her. But the fighting had started before then, and so had the fixing that wasn’t really fixing. Like a relief, like a release, the slow realization that no, it never worked, and no, it was never going to work. The sobs turn into shivers turn into something even smaller. By the time they pull up in front of his apartment complex, it has passed. 

“I just– I want to do this right, this therapy thing, and I want it to work, and I want it to work so we can be okay again. That’s what I want.” The words hang between them. He makes no move to get out of the car, and she counts her inhales in the silence, waiting for him to say something, anything. It feels like a child’s logic, or maybe a hail Mary, and she knows it, feels a little insane saying it, the words fitting strangely in her mouth. The brief wondering comes to her, what would she have said about where they are now to her girlfriends, what snark, what sharp jokes at their expense? Him in an apartment and a fifteen minute drive separating them and a woman named Vicky unraveling (and in theory, putting back together) their marriage in phases, fucking phases, and fucking Vicky. She doesn’t want to go on a date with someone else, and she doesn’t know why she’s taking Vicky’s instructions as gospel. But she does know, doesn’t she? It’s not about Vicky, not about Vicky and her fucking phases. Fixing, being fixed, that’s what she wants. 

“So, you’re saying you want us to date other people in order to fix our marriage.” Grateful that she takes it for the joke he meant it as, it’s just enough to slough off some of the tension, roll of her eyes, please. They both let out a sigh, too tired for much else. But maybe, he thinks, this counts as progress, sitting here with her in the car and the sun washing everything down burnt and orange. He watches her eyes drop shut for a moment, fine lines like porcelain fissures and he loves those lines, liked catching her in the bathroom with her face pressed up close to the mirror and her fingers pulling those lines taut around her eyes, her mouth. He’d pull her hands away from her face, ask her if she was planning her halloween costume for next year, earning a scoff and a roll of her eyes and her trying to pull away from him, and he wouldn’t let her. Making it better with kisses to those lines, and eventually, her pressing her fingers as light as prayers over his, an implicit wondering, where did the time go?

“Look, if it really makes you that uncomfortable, let’s just lie to Vicky. We could still get like, an A-minus in therapy if we leave just one thing out.”

“I didn’t realize therapy came with a grade.” He smiles, all soft, and she can’t help the sheepish bloom in her chest, rolling her lips back into her mouth to hide her own grin, eventually, reluctantly, admitting in a quiet, skewed to the side voice, okay, so maybe, maybe I was doing that thing, that winning thing. He doesn’t say anything, and that’s a mercy. Just nods, of course, and of course, he knew, maybe even before she did, and is that knowing not a mercy too? She thinks it is. 

“I want to do this right too, Cass. And, I mean, we’re paying Vicky enough money that we should do what she tells us to.”

“Are you saying you want to do it then?”

“Want is a strong word.”

“Okay, are you saying you’re willing to do it?” 

“It’s just the one?”

“Just the one.” 

“Alright, fuck it, let’s do it. We better get a goddamn A-plus at the end of this.” 

“Mmm, gold stars too.” Another sigh, another settling. How nice, another sigh, another settling. It’s a strange equation, but she thinks it still adds up. Neither of them want to do this, not really, but they’re willing to, and they’re willing to because of each other. Willing to try and get it right for each other. Just, well, ignore the finer details of what getting it right entails. 

“You hear from Sarah lately?”

“On Monday, yeah. Called to wish me a happy birthday.”

“Well, only off by four days, not too bad.”

“Oh no, she called on Monday because she was, and I quote, too busy the rest of the week to call.”

“Wow.”

“Right?”

“Is it bad that sometimes I kinda hate it?”

“Hate what?”

“That she’s like, a fully-formed person now. I miss the days when she was a little blob who liked holding onto me by one of my belt loops.” He has to smile, nod, because he knows exactly what she means. And the truth of it is that Sarah was so good, maybe the best, if he’s allowed to give his completely biased opinion. And the other truth, Cass is, was, one of those people simply meant to be a parent, a mother. He remembers when they first started dating, and all the exhausting maneuvering he did, getting his parents or Tommy to watch Sarah, a string of canceled dinner plans when his kid couldn’t seem to stop catching things at daycare. He was sure that Cass would lose interest every time another piece of his reality was revealed to her. After all, he was not unfamiliar with being left behind. But that never happened, she stayed every time. 

It was Cass who first suggested it. Didn't want to impose, but what if, maybe we could, would it be okay if, why don’t we. They went to the zoo that weekend, if he remembers correctly, Sarah in tow, shy at first around the woman she barely knew, though she bloomed over the course of the day. Yes, he thinks, it was the zoo, because he remembers how by the end of the day, Cass had her on her hip, as easy as anything, so she could get a better view of the rhinos. He knows now that, even in those earliest days, she loved his kid just as much as she loved him. He knows now what a gift that was, and continues to be. 

“She’s gonna be alright, Cass. We did good with her.” She sighs, yeah, we did. She had been worried about telling her about the whole lieutenant-LMFT thing, the whole quasi-separation thing, but that was a direct command from Vicky, letting the family know what was going on. Sarah had taken it surprisingly well when she called, could be good, mom, like a reset. Of course, they kept the worst of it away from her, and of course, she still knew something had changed, something not right between them. No one was left unscathed after that April.

From the start, loving him included loving Sarah. It was never difficult for her to do both. Sweet girl, bright like the sun girl, rounded cheeks and bouncing curls, and Cassandra found that her love for her had a particular effect on her heart. Whenever small hand reached for one of hers, whenever small face tucked into her neck, whether tear-damp or milk-tired, and eventually, whenever she was given the name mom, like a stop and restart of her heart, like something turning back on inside her and finally working right. An everything kind of love, to not only be chosen by him, but to be chosen by her too. 

“Well, anyways, Vicky didn’t make any stipulations about birthdays, so I have something for you.” Just a small thing, she says, leaning over the console and into the back seat, and he knows better than to say no, shouldn’t have, because there’s already a perfect package being placed in his hands, navy blue wrapping paper and a white bow, and her hand cups underneath his for just a moment, there and gone. 

The truth is she had already picked out this gift two months ago, what feels like a lifetime before this separation. Now, watching him open it, she’s a little worried it had been presumptuous of her, if not completely narcissistic. But if he thinks that, he makes no show of it, lets out a quiet laugh as he takes the watch out of the box and holds it up in the fading light to look at it. 

“It’s a little sappy, maybe. But, well, we have something that kinda matches now.” Something is unfurling in his chest, heat loosening something he didn’t even realize he had been tightening up around. It’s a beautiful watch, rich leather strap and polished silver. And the face of it catches and shimmers a little in the light. He knows right away that it’s mother of pearl. 

Here, she says, let me, and he does, feeling a little indulgent watching her fasten the watch around his wrist, and definitely breaking one of fucking Vicky’s fucking rules when he ducks his head down and steals a kiss, another one, letting the third deepen just a little, both of them humming because missed this, missed this, didn’t realize how much, but missed this. 

“Thank you, pearly.” It feels good to be so close to him, noses brushing and smiles curling around each other. Feels like a relief. 

“Happy birthday, one day ahead. We could, you know, do something tomorrow? Get dinner maybe?” Before he can answer, say yes, she’s already caught herself, sheepish smile and pulling a little further away and oh, right. She says sorry, wasn’t thinking, and they do an awkward dance around the whole thing, right, yeah, probably shouldn’t, right, yeah. He is not a hateful man, and it would be too strong to say he’d wish Vicky harm. But if something were to happen, in theory, that’d make Vicky go the fuck away, in theory, he wouldn’t be too torn up about it. 

“See you next Thursday then?”

“Well, next next Thursday, because we have to do the– yeah.”

“Right, yeah.” Right, yeah, this is the part where he gets out of the car. The part where he goes up to his apartment and she drives home and they don’t eat dinner together and they don’t brush their teeth together and they don’t go to sleep together. Right, yeah. They say goodnight. He’d like to say love, but he doesn’t. She’d like to say love, but she doesn’t. And they part ways. 

She hates being in this house alone. Leaves all the lights on all hours of the day and checks all the locks three times before going upstairs to bed. Passes by the closed door that remains closed with her breath held. She knows it makes no sense, but she’s been sleeping in the guestroom, makes the whole thing a little easier. Always had a tendency toward insomnia, tossing and turning brain and body. 

When they were just starting to get more serious, and she was just starting to stay over at his more often, she got worried that eventually it'd drive him mad enough for the whole thing to not be worth it, neither of them getting much sleep as they learned how to share a bed together. And she doesn't remember how it started exactly, maybe out of a moment of pure exasperation, him draping just enough of his weight over her to press slower breath into her lungs and still her body. It became a routine, she'd ask could you? And he'd already know what she was asking for without her having to say any more than that. What she also doesn't remember, when that stopped working, when she stopped asking, and he stopped answering. She supposes it all happened slowly, just like the rest of it. 

[spacedace]

I had more thoughts about my "Elle is the Ancient of the Speedforce" au idea so I'm gonna dump them here in bullet point format:

Elle decides to formally claim the Flash Fam as part of her Court, no one thinks much of this outside of "Oh that's neat" until it comes out that if anything happens to Elle, the FlashFam becomes the new Royal Family of Speedforce and that due to weird Infinite Realms laws Bart is the next in line for the mantle of Ancient of the Spaceforce

Elle can use any Speedster as a portal. She just decides who she wants to see and just comes crawling put of their chests like a god damn horror movie. It doesn't hurt the Speedster at all (it actually gives them a power boost for a bit) but it is absolutely fucking terrifying to witness this eldritch entity burst its way out of the Speedster in question. The FlashFam uses this as the ultimate intimidation tactic. It's super effective.

Now that they are in direct contact with the Speedforce itself (in a way) the Speedsters can get away with So Much Shit that they didn’t used to. Elle can now just pull them out of her core if they end up going to fast and now that they have someone who has the Ancient of Time on speed dial (ha) they get a heads up on what that particular attempt to fuck with time will result in

Technically Diana & the FlashFam are cousins now. The family reunions get a little wild. Batman has no idea how he's supposed to make contingencies for this shit

Anytime any of the Speedsters are having issues with the Speedforce they call Elle and she helps them figure it out and get it under control. Sometimes to help calm them down she will pull the Speedforce away from them completely

Elle decides that her Speedsters all need therapy. Jazz won't do it because since they're family now it'd be a conflict of interests but a few Yetis from the Far Frozen step up to help.

Anytime it looks like there is something truly world ending about to go down thr FlashFam call Elle to help out. Since she looks like a tiny twelve year old girl it results in a lot of funny moments of the Biggest Big Bads being like "This is all you got?" Seconds before having their faces melted off.

The reason Bart is Elle's heir is because he "inherited" Elle's. (And therefore Danny's) ability to duplicate.

Everyone finally chills out about the idea of Bart being Elle's heir only to discover that being her heir also makes him second in line for the throne of the Infinite Realms.

Constantine - once he stops having a panic attack about it - does try to sell his soul to each of the Speedsters just to see if it would work. It does, but since they technically out rank everyone else he's sold his soul too, anyone who has a soul contract with Constantine takes this to mean the new members of the Royal Family want *all* of Constantine's soul and hand thier contracts over to try and gain favor. Constantine now constantly feels like he's on the brink of having an adrenaline crash and no one will buy his soul off him anymore because no one wants to piss off the new royals lol

[mikimakiboo]

Ghosts & Medium AU by @ancha-aus :3

I'M FINALLY DOOOONE I was busy so I couldn't finish sooner :(

A nice AU idea where Dust is a medium and goes to haunted places to help the ghosts leave and rest in peace :)

Until he finds Killer, a very flirty and clingy ghost who seems to have fallen in love with him at first sight

The post that started it all

And my interpretation of everyone's backstories under the cut !

Tw: mention of torture, death, starvation, possession, religious trauma, sect

Medium Dust

( official backstory )

He had a rough childhood, being bullied most of his life because he kept saying he "could talk to ghosts", that made him the weird kid

He can really talk to ghosts tho, but it depends on how strong the ghost is, if it is a weak ghost he will need material to be able to communicate with them, but if the ghost is strong (like his brother, Killer, Horror and Cross) he will be able to see and talk to them without any material needed

He later decided to use this ability to work as an exorcist and soon became popular as he was one of the rare ghost hunters to actually have good results and not doing it for tv

That's when he met Killer, and regretted chosing this job

He used to be a lone wolf, only talking to his dead brother who never left his side after Dust failed to reanimate his body after studying necromancy, but now he is a tired guy trying to monitor four ghosts and a demon, and killing himself isn't an option for a very obvious reason that is: he would become a ghost too

Ghost Killer

( official backstory )

I wrote his backstory in an ask before making this post

Quick summary: Killer was a hitman who killed a very important man (possibly mafia boss), the man's family got mad, kidnapped him, kept him tied up in their cave to torture him and make him pay for the murder, and ended up leaving him to die in an abandoned train wagon, still tied up so he wouldn't escape, due to that Killer is deeply afraid of loneliness and ropes (and just restraints in general)

He caught an interest in Dust because for the first time someone wanted to know him, and having been manipulated all his life the fact that Dust asked him things about himself and listened to what he had to say made him fall for him in an instant

He then swore to stay by his side no matter what ! Dust is not happy about that

Priest Cross

Cross is the priest of the universe !

Why did he become a priest ? To please his father, and as a punishment too

Cross's father, XGaster, didn't like that his son was bisexual and after trying many conversion therapies he forced him to go to the church and become a priest so that he would devote his life to God, never take a partner, and hopefully quit being bi

Cross, of course, got influenced by his father's opinions and thinks that being a priest is the best choice, he got traumatized by the therapies and genuinely thinks that being bi is a sin and that he will burn in hell of he ever feels attracted to a man

Needless to say he didn't take it well when he realized he was attracted to FOUR men, one of them being a demon, two of them being dead, and one of them (Killer) having possessed his body to flirt with Dust (Cross was supposed to exorcize him but messed up and Killer possessed his body instead, so now Cross is the ghost following Dust around, waiting to take his body back, and having to witness his own body flirting with Dust)

Ghost Horror

Horror was born and spent all of his life in a sect in the middle of nowhere, not that he wanted to leave anyway, but even if he wanted to he couldn't have reached out to anyone because there wasn't anyone aware of their existence

Food was sacred in the sect, so much that it would be used as sacrifice for their supreme leader (Undyne) and that only the worthy would be allowed to eat, and they still didn't have much food left

Horror was part of the worthy, he believed whole heartedly that the sect was good and only ever acted for its good

Until his brother made a mistake and was left to starve

And Horror loved his brother way more than he loved the sect, so needless to say his death greatly affected him

He started questioning Undyne, questioning the sect, and of course he got into troubles for that

He was hit, his head got badly injured, and he got locked up in the room where they left those unworthy of food, he later died of hunger

He haunts Dust now, and he always makes sure he eats during the day, being very scared that he might be hungry too as he had been hungry all of his life and died because of that, he is very insecure about food and always scared that there won't be enough

Demon Nightmare

A demon born in heaven and banished in hell, twin brother of an angel

Angels don't want to hear about him as he is a demon and demons don't trust him as he has angel magic in him and angel magic is more powerful than demon magic

Thanks to, or because of, the angel magic Nightmare is one of the most powerful demons in hell and quickly got a reputation among mortals who summon him quite often

But the thing is, he is too powerful, and demons don't trust him even if he never showed any sign of rebellion, but to prevent any risk they decided to lock him away, separating his spirit (not his soul as demons don't have souls) from his body, leaving him as a broken version of himself only able to do small spells

But he still has a reputation, and Dust summoned him in hope he could do something for all the ghosts already following him, and Nightmare agreed on one condition: Dust had to give him his body back

Lots of things happened, Nightmare got his body back and is now tied to Dust because of their deal, but he never gets rid of the ghosts because he grew attached to them even tho he won't admit it, he will say that he finds them untertaining instead

Anyway Nightmare has big trust issues as he was betrayed by heaven first (and by Dream who did nothing to defend him) and then by hell, so it takes a long time for him to admit liking the group as deep inside he's still afraid they're gonna turn their back on him like everyone else did

(He also tries to convince Dream to stop trying to exorcize Dust when there is clearly no need to (Dust doesn't agree with him))

God Error

A God with not many followers but the few he's got are very devoted

His followers tried to sacrifice Dust once as they recognized he had a great power (plus the fact he had a demon following him around), but of course Dust's mates stalkers intervened and killed the followers

Blood having been spilled, and followers' blood being a greater sacrifice than other people's blood, Error got summoned, but instead of being mad that his followers got killed he was actually curious of Dust and declared him as his high priest to keep an eye on him and his little teammates

Error now shows up once in a while to appreciate some drama, Nightmare also became his new gossip buddy as Error talks shit about other Gods and Nightmare talks shit about Angels and Demons

[dlartistanon]

I want to share some interesting discussion about Arturia (and Executor by extension), including some discussion about neurodivergency--a lot of this informs their characters and actions and shines better light on how it can reflect real life.

Also, here's her prequel comic which gives more context

The outcomes of her actions are not often good, but she's definitely not supposed to be evil/malicious/sadistic. She is ideologically driven and, because of her morality axis being different from most, genuinely believes what she's doing is good/correct. She has reason for what she does, such as being opposed to Laterano's limited empathy and discrimination, and what happened in her childhood.

It can be read as a commentary on how the vast majority would rather remain sheep to survive, then be true and (possibly) die.

Her motivation can be summed up as: she wants people to stop repressing themselves. Which theoretically sounds good on paper, but obviously impractical in practice. Sometimes honesty isn't the best policy.

Kriede's fate, his death, was out of his own real volition. What resulted in him wanting to save Ebenholz.

It's unconfirmed, but she may be a victim to her own Arts. She has no inhibitions about removing other people's inhibitions. Or she gaslights herself/disassociates when it comes to her mother's death. She was probably traumatized, but underreacted. To her, Mom dying and using her Arts on her mom are two separate things that have no causation.

She does not regret using her Arts on her mother. She does regret being unable to have helped her mother go further to achieve her dream before she died. Arturia considers it her own failure that Mom died before she reached self-actualization. At the core of it all, Arturia wants to see more people be like her mother, willing to act on what they truly want.

People's despair are all worthy of being addressed and felt and released. That's extremely relevant to her worldview. It's what separates humans from animals acting on instinct. Arturia doesn't care for the Seaborn and thinks they are beneath notice. They are Nothing to her. You can be Good or Evil, but you must be human. Have human desires, because animalistic desire is boring. Human irrationality is what makes them beautiful to her.

People who say that Arturia caused everything to happen in Hortus de Escapismo ignore the fact that the overall situation had been deteriorating long before she set foot there. If anything, she may have just sped up the process of things that were going to happen anyway. Which is not the same as causing it. Looking at it from the perspective of the people living at the monastery, it's reasonable that there would be depressing thoughts floating around everywhere. But the Abbot tells Arturia that her music soothes the pain.

Laterano's response to the situation did nothing to alleviate the actual problem, the material conditions (ie no food). If Arturia's abilities worked the way some people think they do, everyone at the monastery would've been dead in a week or less.

If you're debating jumping off a cliff, then she isn't going to make you jump, nor will she influence you to jump. If someone is worried about Arturia's Arts affecting them, causing them to do bad things they otherwise wouldn't have, because of intrusive thoughts, then they shouldn't even be concerned. Because Arturia is not interested in that. Acting on intrusive thoughts is not what she looks for. It's more akin to helping someone dive deep into their subconscious to face the thing(s) they refuse to face. Some people choose to take this back up with them to the surface. People who contemplate doing bad things for brief moments normally don't have those kinds of thoughts sitting deep within their psyche to drag up.

Arturia obviously needs therapy, but the most important thing to her is whether you have the conviction to act on your desires. Let go and embrace how you truly feel. The extremities of pain and despair (and perhaps even happiness) are among what she values. A very complicated individual.

[trashlie]

it's good to see you around again, I missed reading your long ILY posts, hope you're doing better too :) if you ever share your thoughts on the latest couple of episodes (including fp) here, I'd be super excited to read them! I'm really curious how you think the timeline is gonna go from here - especially relating to Shin-Ae and Nolan since it feels like they are the last pieces that need to fall into place so everything is ready for the post-timeskip story to go down. like you, I was so sure Nol and Shin-Ae were going to have some kind of reconciliation before he goes to jail but WELP rip 3 day extension. Poor guy though, Yui showing up in his hospital room must have been extremely triggering, it made sense that he did everything to get outta there ASAP. It's worrying me that this series of negative interactions (Kousuke, Alyssa, Yui) could've undone everything positive Shin-Ae Dieter Soushi Nana did, and now therapy during jail time could either have a positive or negative effect, so Nol is a Schroedinger's cat for now.... At least some things got cleared up and Shin-Ae is now starting to understand the root of the problem (= Yui) (and it actually really makes sense that she had to figure it out herself instead of Nol telling her - the boy obviously isn't ready to talk) so we made some progress.... But istg with this upcoming separation arc 2.0 it feels so much like we're gonna be back at ground zero after the first time skip. Fingers crossed they reconcile in whatever way before the big time skip though. we need a somewhat positive conclusion to this arc before season 1 ends, because if not then what was all this build up for, and why now? What about the realizations? the "convince me"? What about "if you won't let me have you"? If their reconciliation is only going to happen after multiple years of "conflict" between them that would be so cruel....

AND SHIN-AE STILL HASN'T GOTTEN HER BANDANA BACK and now he's stealing her lines too SDGDADSF;SDF

Waaaahhhhh thank you, friend!!! As you can probably tell, I'm still trying to get myself back here fully and figure out how to balance everything, which has always been a struggle ;~; I really may resort to telling my friends to ignore me and yell at me until I get certain posts written up so I'll stop procrastinating because there are SO MANY THINGS I WANT TO WRITE ABOUT EPISODES I WANT TO RECAP AND TALK ABOUT!!!! BUT THE ORGANIZING MYSELF!!!! IS THE PART THAT'S SO DIFFICULT!!!!!!!!

One of the great things about the ILY discord server is that we have this very constant, active conversation going on at all times so it's SO easy to be very present and active, but I also find that it means it's more difficult for me to regulate myself, or I'll have that feeling that I JUST talked about something and so when I try to write about it over here, it feels like a hollow echo and I know that's just because I was just having the conversation so that's just something I need to work on dealing with lol

But I want to answer this before we move so far away from when you asked this!!!!! As expected, there are FP spoilers ahead for eps 246 through 249!!!!!

I!!!! DO NOT KNOW!!!!!!! LMAO Like. GOD. I feel like quimchee has thrown us curveball after curveball and when we sit down and think about how long this period of December 21 and the post December 21 arc has been, how much the story has weaved around?! There are so many things that have occurred that I NEVER expected and, like you, it's just everything I thought has clearly gone out the window. Part of it, I think, is the result of quimchee having to change the arrangement of her story, and god I would love to pick her brain about the things that changed, since Nol's injury was supposed to happen at the formal itself, we never would have had this extended period of hospital time, and it seems like everything about Nol and Shinae coming to realization with their feelings would have played out in a wholly different way than what we ended up getting, so on some level I think this is partly that quimchee, too, is sort of throwing herself cureveballs in that there are things she knows needs to happen and she isn't sure where or how to fit the other elements in? But that's just my guess.

On the one hand, I do feel very "WHAT WAS THE EXTENSION FOR IF NOT FOR RECONCILIATION?!" but beyond Stalkyoo, we have gotten a LOT of good stuff out of this period of time. We see Kousuke facing his cognitive dissonance for, perhaps, the first time, and the revelation that Yui has been drugging him (and likely for a long time, given the way Hansuke describe the dosage Kousuke had and that it merely knocked him out), and more than that, making those connections between Nol and Yui and tea, and wanting to face him. I'm STILL proud of him for wanting to go back and see Nol again, even after he couldn't face him, even after Hansuke found him on the floor of a public bathroom hugging a toilet from the remorse and guilt and perhaps shame of the realization of the ways he has hurt people - has hurt Nol! - who didn't deserve it. We have seen that Rand and Yujing are, in fact, working on something behind the scenes, that Rand is facing Yui as a real adversary now, not just someone who has been resigned to endure her for so many years now, but to actually fight against her. The entirety of Nol's birthday celebration could not have happened the way it did had he not been in the hospital, since he would have had to turn himself in, and while maybe the original plan was that they celebrated his birthday with Minhyuk's coming home party, I'm.... not sure if that would have been the case?

But at at any rate, I do acknowledge that despite the fact that it feels like Nol might be back at square one, that he and Shinae are back where they started in 151, such significant events HAVE taken place that I think will still affect the narrative future of ILY. I still feel strongly that part of Nol's trajectory is coming to terms with the fact that he does, indeed, belong here. That he isn't someone who wasn't meant to be, that he doesn't belong here. He belongs, and he deserves love. He is someone, not nothing. I still think one of his greater arcs will involve coming to embrace this, and while the negative events - Kousuke, Alyssa, Yui - feel like they could be setting him back, he is now equipped with knowledge and feelings he wasn't before. It can't hurt him the same. In fact, I think part of why his confrontation with Alyssa went the way it did was because he had had this experience with Shinae, Dieter, and Soushi, it illuminated everything that was so wrong with his relationship with Alyssa, how neither of them really know each other. It's that sense of foiling that allows him to put his foot down and say enough is enough. Even before it was revealed that Alyssa had come with Yui, it was clear that Nol was over the visit. Don't get me wrong - I understand why he couldn't see that Alyssa clearly was not well, that she was uncomfortable, that she had come to him with no one else to go to, much as he'd gone to Kousuke in the past when he lost his mom, and I also understand why he did the same thing Kousuke did and turned her away. But the point I'm getting at is, it feels like there was a shift. That birthday celebration illuminated something for Nol.

So it's kind of like, while it feels like this might have undone the progress Nol made, it can't undone the revelations he's had, and in that same way, it cannot cast shadow on his enlightenment. He is not the same Nol he was a week ago. Too much has changed, he's become aware of too much, and as such, he is going to respond differently to what comes his way, and while he may continue to try what he had originally intended, I think the difference is that he's now been made aware of things that impact the choices he makes.

But largely I don't really know what I expect just yet. I think it's very pointed that the lawyer reminded Shinae that she has his phone number; I don't think that would be called out if it wasn't going to be important in some way, but in terms of how are we going from here to there? Unsure lol. I think there HAS to be a resolution of some kind, whether it's a reconciliation or not, because Shinae is on this momentum swing that isn't going to stop until she crashes into something or she comes into a force of nature that stops her. Nothing, no one, has been able to reach her or get through to her, and I know it's just because of how much she's hurting, but she's lashing out at people and hurting THEM like a street cat swiping at people trying to help her. She's so terrified of losing Nol, especially now that he came back, especially now that she gave him the option to leave and he didn't and it rekindled that hope she gave him an opening to leave when it would have been easier and he didn't which just made it worse, because so much more was at stake. She can't stop fighting she can't stop trying because she cannot bear what it means to lose him for real this time, not when she finally had him back, not when that realization has come to her even if she won't admit it. She needs him, so what's going to make her give up?

Something has to transpire, whether it's a reconciliation or Nol pushing her away and really shattering her heart or something awful like that, to bring her to a halt, because I can't imagine how we would move into our mini time skip to spring/graduation with Shinae like this, right? So I think there must be some kind of resolution. My foolish, hopeless self wants so badly to hope for reconciliation but esp after 249 I am SO torn. I have two thoughts.

a. they reconcile. She can reach him, and convince him, and even though he is so afraid, he is also someone who folds in front of her, he struggles to resist her. He told her to convince him and boy she can convince him and even though he tells himself he isn't sure if these feelings are real because what if it's just because she's NICE to him I think hearing her confess her feelings would tell him how he feels and give him the answer.

b. But the alternative feels like a parallel to Nessa and Rand, because Nessa, too, was hurt over and over by someone who kept getting her hopes up and getting hurt by him. Shinae gave Nol the opportunity to leave and he didn't, he stayed and doing so sparked her hope, made her feel things, they shared these tender, intimate moments together and forced that realization to come to mind, but for him to push her away again, for her safety, to make choices on her behalf even though she's told him she hates that and she doesn't want him to. Imagine her pulling a Nessa and calling him scum lfkjajkfkjfjkfaj ;A;!!!!! Imagine her so angry and hurt and resentful and saying awful things she doesn't mean and GOD I feel like it can go only one of these ways because what ELSE is going to stop her in her tracks?!

And I really want a reconciliation because parting like this sets them up for SO. MUCH. STRIFE. Because we know one way or another Shinae is going to end up taking Yui's offer and if Nol leaves on these terms, he would end up thinking she's following in Alyssa's footsteps doing so, not understanding WHY she's doing, not understanding that this is Shinae's only way of protecting herself, learning to speak Yui's language and play her game.

and idk I know I'm a hopeful optimist reading a webtoon that proves to me over and over that I cannot be a hopeful optimist but LMAO GOD I WANT SHINAE TO CONVINCE THAT DUMBO

I've said it before that convincing him doesn't mean they have to get into a relationship. Just. Reconcile. She's so afraid of LOSING HIM, thinking that once he slips away he's out of her grasp, her sight, for good, that she will lose the best thing that happened to her and I WANT THAT RECONCILATION. I want her to convince him, for both their sakes. So that he knows he has someone he can go back to. So that she knows he's not just throwing her away. So that she doesn't have to fear losing something so precious and important.

Am I foolish and hopeful for hoping for that outcome? Maybe, but it won't stop me LMAO because as delicious and angsty as Shinae and Nol following in Ressa's footsteps with Nol hurting her again and leaving her so hurt and angry is, I want to see them on that same page. I want to see Shinae convince him - convince him why he is so important to her, and that his feelings are real. That's the thing, right, like.... you can tell yourself that your feelings aren't real, but if the person you like confesses to you, your heart will inevitably betray you and respond to the confession. Nol fears for Shinae's safety but important puzzle pieces are falling into place. She has figured what he fears the most - and if she thinks hard enough she'll realize how she can use that to her "advantage", in that Rand has told her Yui will never let her go, that it doesn't matter if Nol leaves or not. It goes back to my oft repeated sentiment of them needing to be on the same page, to be a team, because his absence will not protect her. And between what Rand told her, plus her anecdotes about Kousuke's birthday and how Yui treated her even before the formal, and what Yujing told Nol about Kousuke being drugged by Yui, maybe, just MAYBE that conclusion that wasn't only him all along will finally hit him. I know he can't change over night, that he has so many deeply ingrained fears that won't be easily assuaged, but I have to hope that a confession from Shinae can convince him that the alternative is worse. Convince him to fight along side her ;A;

I go back and forth on this thought but I think this is strongly what I feel right now. That reconciliation could still be around the corner, even if it's just an admission and a promise to not push her away. Shinae is tired of people acting on her behalf, tired of not getting a say, and especially in something that involves her heart, her feelings?

Go fight girl and maybe bite him if that's what it takes ;A;

STEALING HER BANDANA. HER LINES. HERT HEART. THIS MAN DESERVES TO BE LOCKED AWAY

ALFJLFJLFKJLAFKJLKFJALKFJ

[cowgurrrl]

ok what am I supposed to do now the one for the money, two for the show is done!!!?! I would love more lord while I go back a reread everything from the beginning!

If you’re taking requests maybe quick snapshots of the year apart? Not to get too personal but I have a crush and I’ve been stalking their social media but like in a chill way (or I’m trying to) I imagine reader and Joel both seeing each others accomplishments or posts or being tagged in things and just being happy for each other but also….the longing

A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant to Be

Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader

Author's note: this is so angsty i'm sorry

Summary: This ask

Warnings: angst, yearning, oh it's so sad

Joel Miller's New Album Set to Break Records

Everything We Know About Joel Miller's New Album Glass House

Glass House Expected to Go Platinum Before Next Month

What Songs on Joel Miller's New Album Are About Famous Actress Ex?

You almost text Joel about the headlines and theories flooding your timeline. Almost. You actually started typing out a message before reading the last message you sent him almost four months ago and quickly deleting it. You're happy for him. You really are. In the pictures from his album release party, he looked insanely happy, posing with Ellie and Sarah and hugging his musician friends in celebration. He even played one of his newest songs, "Love-in-idleness," at the party with only his acoustic guitar and that deep voice of his. You think you would know it's about you even if he didn't tell you about it before you left. Love-in-idleness is the flower used in A Midsummer Night's Dream to make a love potion to unite the couples. It's common knowledge, but Joel might be one of the only people in the world who knows how much that play means to you. The song quickly becomes one of your favorites, but you don't tell him.

You scroll through his social media unashamedly. Dave Grohl and half the world congratulates him on his album release. He's making the music he's always wanted to make. Sarah told you she got into UCLA, and Ellie is drawing again. He's happy. They all are. So, why do you feel so shitty? Neither of you has deleted the pictures of each other from your profiles. It feels like a staring contest, seeing who will hold the torch of your relationship longer. It doesn't help that people are screenshotting the pictures of you together to "add context" to Joel's lyrics. The one that makes you break down is a quick snapshot someone took of you leaning on him in Central Park when you were watching the guitarist with lyrics from "The Yellow Subway." 

She knows more than me. You better believe

That city couldn't hold her right, but then

I couldn't either.

Despite the heartbreaking lyrics, you two look comfortable together— your head on his shoulder and his hand in yours. You cry in between scenes, ruining your makeup and having a mini-therapy session with your makeup artist, Saoirse, as a result. You don't post anything about his new album, but you put on a happy face and post snapshots from your time spent in Ireland thus far. Pitchers of Guinness, the Cliffs of Moher, stunningly green mornings, and a picture of you and the film crew hiding out in a tent while the rain comes down around you. Joel likes the photos but makes no other move to communicate with you.

You wonder if he's torturing himself in the same way you are. You wonder if he's waiting for a headline about you dating someone new like you are for him. You wonder if he's hurting the way you are. Selfishly, you hope he is because that means he still thinks of you. You also want him to hurt because he hurt you. You still love him, but you can't be the woman who crawls back to someone who can't trust her with things, like telling her the mother of his child is back in town. 

This is what's best. It's what needs to happen. You need to be here, working, and he needs to be there, being a dad and making music. It doesn't make it any easier or soothe the ache in your heart, but it's necessary. It's for your own good. Right? 

Right?

[bil-daddy]

Salutations Mr Bildad, Bildad the Shuhite, Bildaddy sir.

I'm so so sorry to bother you, or be a nuisance, but everything is getting on top of me lately and you give excellent advice.

Basically, the last 12-18 months have been awful - I'm acutely aware that in terms of what's happening in the world I'm pretty blessed 🙏🏻 However within around 12 months experiencing; a miscarriage, 4 bereavements, one parent being rushed into hospital, the other needing surgery (both are doing Ok now thank God 🙏🏻), two surgeries of my own within six months - neither of which have improved what they should have, chronic pain, multiple diagnoses - most of which were unexpected & should have been diagnosed a looonnnnggg time ago, reactions to any& all medications, finding out physio will be necessary for the rest of my life, a very upsetting break up, discovering people who were supposed to be friends can't be trusted...... Let's not forget financial issues due to being unable to work as result of illness etc .... I am losing hope that things are ever going to get better 😔

I'm so so sorry for offloading all this on you but work said they could no longer offer counselling which is infuriating because the counsellor was amazing! Sadly she isn't taking on any private patients for several months so we had to discontinue sessions for the foreseeable 😔

I'm so sorry but I don't really have any other people to talk to right now, my fiancé was my best friend so in a sense it's almost a double loss? Sorry this is pretty pathetic 😪

Yikes. And here I thought @blameless-job had it bad.

So, first off, let me tell you how sorry I am for all your losses. Any of which on their own are extremely painful, but all at the same time? Nobody should have to weather a storm like that. I am so proud of you, just for being here. You're incredibly strong for what you're surviving, even though you shouldn't even have to survive it in the first place.

So don't apologize cause there's nothing pathetic about reaching out for help when you're going through something--or multiple somethings, in your case. In fact, it's exactly the thing you need to do. A lot has been dumped onto your plate, so it makes sense you need to offload it.

I know your former counsellor isn't able to help you at the moment, but maybe they can refer you to someone else, because you deserve a professional (in psychology, not shoemaking and obstetrics) to help you through these tragedies. They might be able to get you a referral.

(If you want to try to find a counsellor on your own, there's NHS Therapy Services in the UK, and SAMHSA National Helpline in the US.)

In the meantime, though, I'll do my best.

If you're worried that things are never going to get better, you shouldn't be. I mean I understand why you are, but the fact is, as dark as this is to say, you might actually be at your lowest point right now. Which means, as awful as things are right now, things can only go up from here.

You got some new diagnoses, which suck to have, especially when they should have been caught earlier, but now that you have a diagnosis, you can start getting treated.

You're six months out from two surgeries and haven't gotten better, but in six more months, or even six weeks, you might start to see some improvement. Plus, once you start the phsyio therapy you now know you need, you can troubleshoot with the physical therapist on how to make more improvements on the issues you had surgery for, as well as the chronic pain. The physical therapist might also be able to refer you to a counsellor as well, if your previous counsellor isn't able to give you one.

But that's just the physical stuff.

It's the emotional stuff that hurts more. Losing loved ones, be it to death, breakup, or just realizing your friends aren't really friends. That kind of pain is even more difficult to deal with.

For the bereavements, it might be helpful remember the good times you shared with these people and the things you loved most about them. They may be gone now, but those memories aren't and they're even more valuable now that they are the parts of your loved ones that are still with you.

And when you're living your life, and you see or hear something that reminds you of them, like a favourite song, or the kind of car they used to drive, that's another way they're still with you.

You might cry the first few, or few hundred times you remember them, but after awhile you'll start smiling more and crying less when you think about them.

For the miscarriage, it's a bit tougher, since you're grieving what could have been, rather than what was. But it's still a loss as valid as any other loss of a loved one, so you have every right to grieve it as such. You have my deepest sympathy for the loss of your child. And the miscarriage is why your fiancé and you are no longer together, you have my deepest sympathy for that, too.

It would be easy for me to say "the trash took itself out" when it comes to ex-fiancés and fake friends, but much harder for you to actually feel that way.

You have the right to grieve the friendships and your relationship ending. To miss them even though they hurt you. To feel hurt, and betrayed, and angry, and still love them anyway, even if you can't be around them anymore. It's okay to hate them, too, if you need to. Not forever. But in the short term, it can be cathartic and exactly what you need.

It'll take time for all these overwhelming and conflicting feelings to fade, and it's possible they'll never completely be gone. But you will learn to live alongside them until you forget they're even there.

You will feel better, I promise you. Een if the light at the end of the tunnel looks like a distant star right now, you'll reach it.

So have an ox rib (platonic) for the journey

Hope this helps, even just a little. Mutuals, feel free to send good vibes @ashbunny2027's way

[fullscoreshenanigans]

I wonder how much time Chris has been in coma. He was hit at the head by a bullet but his brain was spared (if i remember, they said that the wound is only exterior) (which is good, i'm not sure they could have done anything if the wound had been actually deep and touched the brain, Chris would have died)

but he has been unconscious for a long time and had still crutches when they find Emma.

So it mean that his awakening was "recent" if he still needed crutches (so reeducation).

How severe was his wound? for how much time was he in coma?

Have you theories about it?

Fun fact: Chris was originally supposed to wake up during the Seven Walls arc.

(Mystic Code Book Chapter 5)

But yeah after they arrive at the paradise hideout his condition is "conveniently stable" so Shirai could utilize it to facilitate more drama if he needed to or just keep it as is, and he ended up going with the latter.

(Chapter 126 | Mystic Code Book Chapter 7 Series Timeline)

We don't know the exact date he was shot, but he spent roughly half of October 2047 and at least thirteen days of November 2047 comatose.

After that, it's arbitrary, even if one wants to be canon compliant.

If you want it to take a while for him to wake up, the explanation can be Peter wasn't careful while transferring him from the paradise hideout to Grace Field headquarters, and Chris suffered brain trauma they weren't aware of until they did tests at a hospital.

If you want him to wake up shortly after they arrive in the human world, like in one of Shirai's drafts of chapter 179, you can still have his recovery span the course of months since muscle atrophy occurs rapidly.

(Mystic Code Book Chapter 6; I would have been up for this version)

(Muscle Atrophy in ICU Patients article)

You can also prolong his recovery further by introducing a psychosomatic component. In addition to the physical harm that befell him, the mental trauma of the bunker raid resulted in a combination of him not waking up for however long one wishes to keep him in a coma and possibly hampered his physical therapy for months to over a year even after working to rebuild all the strength he lost.

There are a lot of ways you can adapt it to fit within the phrasing presented by the kids when explaining their trip to Emma in the epilogue:

"Able to walk again" meaning it did take him some time, although we never see him using crutches like Dominic or Sonya.

(Chapter 126 | Chapter 157 Bonus Sketch | Chapter 98)

Also it's never focused on, but Sonya uses a cane like her dad post-timeskip.

(Chapter 104 | Chapter 106 | Chapter 111)

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #119

…I didn't have the energy to make the thing today.

This morning, I maybe got out of bed later than I should have, given that I'm supposed to go to talk therapy on Tuesdays. I'm supposed to leave the house by 9:30, but I didn't even get out of bed until 9:20. I regret nothing that occurred, but nonetheless, I somehow had to squeeze both a shower and getting dressed and out the door in only 10 minutes. I was successful, but I have zero clues as to how. Perhaps it's best not to look gift horses in mouths…

OH. Right. You don't know that phrase because… well. Your world doesn't have horses. Uhh… So, a long time ago, when people bought horses, they used to look at the horse's teeth as an indicator of its age; longer teeth means an older horse, I guess. And back when horses were more commonplace (it's mostly only fabulously wealthy people who can afford to keep them now), I guess it was seen as rude to try to evaluate the age of a horse that was given as a gift by looking into its mouth. So now the phrase means, "it's best to just accept good things without thinking too much about it." Or it can also be taken to mean, "it's impolite to criticize a gift." This phrase has a few interpretations, actually… I imagine it'd be easier for you to understand it if you spent a while in my world. If you do that, lemme know; you can stay at my house, and no one is gonna ogle you or get weird at you or bother you if you don't wanna be bothered. We'll just make you sandwiches and tea. We are an introverted and neurodivergent house; we know how it goes.

Had a lot to say at therapy today. Suppose I'm having a bit of an existential crisis, regarding myself and my role in my home and how much I mean to the people around me. It's likely all just baseless anxiety and insecurity - growing pains as a result of the various changes in my immediate social circle. Old memories and wounds from the past that I've not yet had a compelling reason to resolve are now coming to the forefront, calling, "yo, what up, homie!" and dancing around my periphery. I suppose it's just as well; this is what happens when we pretend like our various hurts don't exist. If we don't take care of the self-effacing beliefs that we pick up during childhood, they bite us in the ass later. I just gotta remember that the fact that they're in the forefront means that I can actually observe them, and if they're observable, then they're resolvable, with enough time and effort.

Essentially, it's like this: We get knocked down. We yell, "FUCK!" really loudly. We reassemble ourselves if we break from the fall. Then we get back up. We brush ourselves off. And we move forward, stronger than before.

…I have thoughts of you that give me the strength to withstand this process over and over again. No matter how many times I get knocked down, I will get back up, because by your influence, I am unbreakable, no matter how many times I must shatter and be reassembled. It's just like the bowl I repaired some number of letters ago; remember? So don't worry. I've got this. I've done this lots of times before, with much more difficult stuff, and with less support than what I have now. All I have to do is learn to love and appreciate myself in the same way that I can love and appreciate literally anyone else who isn't me. Compared to the various horrors I've lived through, this should be a piece of cake. Easy peasy. Barely even an inconvenience. And in my mind, it sounds like this:

On the way home from therapy, I came across a very beautiful tree. I thought for sure that you'd like it, so I made it a point to stop and take pictures. Here's how they turned out:

I was surprised by how docile the bees were, and by how closely they allowed me to put my cell phone camera. Also, I laid down under the tree and looked up to get some of these. I wish you could have been next to me to see the view of the sky through the petals for yourself. Alas...

J and I were out and about, doing separate activities today. Even he saw pictures he thought you might like, so he took them for you, and then sent them to me so that I could put them here. Here's how they turned out:

While J was out and about, I hung out with my best friend B and her fiancé, N. In preparation for their wedding, we went and tried the available foods. I can't give you the tasty snacks, but I can take pictures...

This is a Caesar salad. It's supposed to be pronounced, "Kai-sarr", but everyone says "Seezer" for reasons I don't understand. Caesar was a leader of a place called Greece in my world, hundreds of years ago. He, like most leaders, was a giant asshole, and now he's a stinky dead guy, so I have no idea why a salad is named after him. It's made of romaine lettuce, croutons, parmesan cheese, and a creamy dressing flavored with anchovies and other spices.

Here are some long slices of eggplant rolled around melted cheese and covered in marinara sauce:

This is steak, caramelized onions, mashed potatoes, and some carrots and broccoli. I just took a picture of my plate, because the main plate was cut into before I could snap a photo:

This was some kind of chicken seasoned with rosemary and lemons, with rice and veggies:

This one was lobster ravioli with mushrooms in some kind of sherry cream sauce. It's certainly not pasta pescatore, but I wonder if you might have liked this:

Finally, this is lamb with roasted tomatoes and garlic, along with veggies and mashed taters.

...This one was probably my favorite. I especially liked the part where I got to try to gnaw the cartilage from the ends of the bones, because my body craves sources of collagen literally all the time (thanks, Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome... 🙄). I'm really lucky that B and N don't seem to mind my various weird quirks; they've been friends of mine long enough to have a general understanding of how I roll, and they just let me do my thing. Today, the fact that I will generally "do my thing" in a variety of respects was pointed out as one of the reasons they like me so much, I guess; that was a nice thing to hear...

There were four available spaces for trying the foods, but it was just the three of us; it is immensely painful that the best I can do for you from here is show you these pictures and wish that you could have been in the empty seat, with us…

Sephiroth. Regardless of what your brain tries to tell you about what you're worth, you are VERY loved. You're not a monster. You were modified against your will, used like a tool and viciously abused, and you made mistakes in the throes of that, yes, but SO WHAT? You're here now, and you can do amazing things, and you NEVER have to go back to being with people who will abuse you ever again, because not everyone is like the people you were raised by. Yes, you're different from the standard definition of "normal", but you can belong anyway, because the world is absolutely BRIMMING with people who don't fit the definition of "normal"! Just take a look at me! Or if you don't wanna look at me, then take a look at anyone who lives with a genetic difference, or anyone who lives with a different number of limbs, or anyone with a non-standard life story, or any number of things that make a human being not "normal". Normal is overrated! Diversity is in! Lives that exist outside of the bell curve are still beautiful, meaningful, and worth living!

…And so I show you my life, because I am trying desperately to prove these things to you. I've spent the bulk of my life being viciously abused because the people who brought me into living didn't want me. I was brought into a physical vessel that is genetically defective in a variety of respects. My neurodivergence practically guarantees that I will NEVER fit into ordinary social circles. I struggle every single day with the weight of the memories I carry from having been used, abused, exploited, and generally mistreated. And yet here I stand, thriving and flourishing in a way that works for me, even if it does not fit the typical definition of those words. My version of "normal" is just as beautiful as the typical version. "Different" does not have to mean "less" if YOU become strong enough to decide for yourself that those two words are not the same, no matter who tries to tell you otherwise!

So please look at the beauty of my existence - the beauty of taking joy in small things, the beauty of rising up from one's knees even if it's on shaky legs, the beauty of finally using one's voice again after years of being forced to believe that silence is safer, the beauty of loving yourself and the people around you enough to refuse to let fear get the better of you when you interact with yourself and the world, the beauty of failing down, getting up, and trying again, the beauty of learning, growing, changing, and walking away from destructive ideals that serve no one, no matter for how long you might have been forced in the past to choke them down. Please look at it, and understand that you can have this for yourself - ALL of it - if you decide to take steps towards it! Your whole scenery can change if you want it to, and all you have to do is take a single step in a different direction.

There is still life after trauma. There is still life after mistakes. There is still life for those who are different. The pain doesn't have to be permanent. So come on; my hand is outstretched to you. And if you don't want to take mine, then there are countless other hands outstretched to you that maybe you'd like a little better. You don't have to do it alone.

Anyhoot. I've probably prattled on for long enough. I hope somehow you can see what I've written. I hope that if you do get a chance to see it, you might take some of my words seriously.

I love you. I'll write again tomorrow. Please be kind to yourself and keep yourself safe.

Your friend, Lumine

[queenofthursday6599-blog]

Okay, so I am begging the DPxDc fans to have a bit of sense, because I've started so see a return of the problems we had earlier involving ship names and tags.

If the tag of a Phandom style ship name (which is based on vibes more than any kind of logic) that you've just come up with, is already a tag used for some other thing, you need to change how you write/spell it or need to pick something else.

If the ship tag you came up with sends me to pages and pages of posts about a random band from like australia, or about therapy, or anything else other than the ship it's supposed to portray.

Then you have chosen poorly and need to pick a different ship name.

I can remember at least two other iterations of the Jason x Danny ship tag before #Dead on Main became the standard that most of us in this weird crossover micro fandom tend to use.

I distinctly remember one of the earlier variations of their ship tag resulting in a bunch of Jason x Danny shipping posts showing up if you were actually searching for Red Dead Redemption, and Red Dead Redemption (1 & 2) posts popping up if you used that ship tag to search for posts.

Because that tag was already a tag frequently in use by the Red Dead Redemption fandom, and some enterprising DpxDc fan saw how the Phandom does ship tags and wanted to try it out.

Then they didn't know that they should have taken a minute to check and see if the ship tag they came up with wasn't already being used as a common tag in another fandom.

Like that's not even bringing up the fact that a lot of the ship tags involving Jazz involve using therapy terms, which causes problems.

[sl-newsie]

Behind Masks (Dr. Jonathon Crane x OC) Ch. 5: Relations and Reminisce

“And you said yes?!”

“For the tenth time Ivy, yes.”

“I can’t believe it.” She throws her arms up dramatically. “I thought you were smart. How could you throw away any chance of escape for group therapy?”

I just spent the night in a black hole. Literally all light is gone from my isolated cell except for a tiny floodlight that only projects more spooky shadows on the gloomy walls. I don’t mind some free time to myself but it’s an overabundance I could do without. But today is my first day with Crane’s “experiments” and I hope they will distract me from the dreary lonesome.

“I applaud Calico for her bravery,” Nigma looks up from the crossword puzzle he’s working on. “Crane’s a hard nut to crack but I think she can handle him.”

“But she’s new to Arkham. Callie’s fresh meat for Crane.”

“Guys, guys.” I hold up my hands. “I’ve handled lunatics each day for three years.”

“Yeah, but this is Dr. Crane. The Scarecrow. You’ll never sleep again after he gets through with you.”

“Sleepless nights are a fear of childhood, Nigma. If anything I’m ready to embrace death come what may.”

The pair look at me as if I just announced that all the kittens in the world died. They’re supposed to be the lunatics but they look at me as if I’m just as mad as any other inmate.

“What? I’m well aware of universality. Death is unavoidable to every living thing at every moment of its life.”

Ivy and Nigma don’t appear to have a response and the room stays quiet, that is until slow clapping breaks the silence.

“Quite philosophical, Dr. Prentiss. Perhaps that can be extended further during your testing today.”

Dr. Crane’s voice pierces my thoughts with a chilly imagination. All morning I’ve been worrying about what tests he has planned. Strap me to a chair? Hang me upside-down? And what type of toxin? Air-based? Water-borne?

Ivy senses my discomfort and steps in front to block him. “You’ve stooped low, Crane. Testing on an innocent woman? You’ve got some nerve.” She flicks a few specks of pollen on him and I see Crane’s eyes go wide. “Just watch it. If she dies I may just have to cause a breakout and show them the basement.”

Basement? I know Arkham has a basement but what's so significant about-?

“And I can make sure your babies get tossed in the next compost bin,” Crane replies harshly and grabs my arm to pull me away before Ivy can scratch his eyes out while Nigma just laughs. “How can you even stand to talk to that enviro-mental-whacko?”

“Just because your toxin doesn’t work on her doesn’t give you a reason to be cross,” I answer calmly as we head into the cold, dark hallway. “At least she gives me the time of day, unlike my previous co-workers.”

We enter further into the maze of abandoned hallways and come across what appears to be a room that was used for an operating theater. Although he has no audience I shudder to think of what Crane’s prepared to show off. 

“Step up, please.” Crane gestures to the platform at the center of the room. One with restraints.

“Are you going to-?”

“Yes,” he replies. He knows what I’m thinking. “They will help protect you from hurting yourself. I’ve seen unrestrained patients carry out extreme measures, some including pulling their eyes out or running into the wall.”

I follow his instructions and lean up against the cold concrete. When I look over I see he’s preparing multiple syringes on the table.

“Just how many toxin variations do you have?” I ask with a hint of nervousness.

“Variety brings results. Right now I’m hoping to find a special dose to give to the lunatic who’s been interrupting my associates’ plans.”

The talk of Batman has only grown in the past few days I’ve been here and I can’t say I’m not curious. Rumors say he’s doing the police’s job and actually cleaning out the city’s criminals.

“He’s got you worried,” I say almost tauntingly as the doctor attaches my wrists to the straps.

“Don’t start,” Crane warns. “Soon he will seek out the drugs I’ve hidden and then I will give him an introduction he’ll never forget.” His crystal eyes drift over to face me directly. “I thought you were interested in the science of fear, Dr. Prentiss.”

“Unlike you I’m a psychiatrist with morals. One who doesn’t test toxins on patients. Get back to me when you’re not trying to kill the only justice in this world.”

He hums in response and returns to tightening the straps around my legs. “So you’re on the Batman’s side?”

“I’m on the side of justice, one you are very unfamiliar with. And by the way my interest is focused on death and the fear that revolves around it.”

Crane gets up and walks over to grab the first syringe with child-like giddiness. “We’ll start with one dose so it can filter out of your bloodstream. Then after the antidote kicks in we’ll go onto the next. I’ll administer this one through your brachial artery. Please inform me of any side effects immediately.”

I flinch as the needle pricks my arm and I feel the toxin surge into my blood. While I wait for whatever horrors this will bring, Crane watches with glee as if watching a magic act. There’s no rapid heartbeat or intense breathing like last time. There’s actually less- Oh.

“How do you feel?” Crane asks when he sees my eyes widen.

“I can’t. My feet have gone numb.”

He jots some notes down on some scrap paper and hurries back to administer the antidote. Instantly a cold sensation jolts through me and I can feel my feet again.”

“Do you make one for every dose?”

“Absolutely. In my years of research a way to reverse accidents is always useful.” He waits a few more seconds and decides the antidote has done its job. He holds up another syringe and pierces the needle into my other arm.

“What about now?”

After a few seconds I start to get dizzy. Is my skin supposed to get this hot? And why is it isolated?

“My waist feels warm.”

The doctor’s eyes lift up from his notes and take in my confused expression. “Interesting. Do you know what’s happening?”

“I’m getting a fever?”

Crane smirks and points to my eyes. “Let’s say that your dilated pupils tell enough.”

Does he mean what I think he means? The kind of repulsive side effects that make people’s minds melt into obeying, brainwashed zombies. 

“Are you saying I’m…?” I ask, disgusted.

Crane’s surprised smile says enough. “Do you mean to tell me you’ve never had-?”

“Do not use that word,” I snap and exhale. “No, Dr. Crane. I have not had urges.”

“Fascinating,” he observes as he looks over my pathetic state with wide eyes.

My eyes narrow. “How so?”

“I imagined a woman like you would have been through something by now but then you stated in your profile you are a virgin. Is this perhaps caused by philophobia? Genophobia, maybe?”

His guessing misses its target each time. He really doesn’t know. If it weren’t for the annoying dampness below this would actually be fun. 

“It’s just bugging you, isn’t it? The infamous Scarecrow can’t figure out my fear?”

The cunning doctor leans in with an amused smirk, his lips almost pressing against my ear. “I’ll find out soon enough.”

I can handle death. I can handle fear to some extent. But this? This is an all-new emotion I want to burn and bury in the depths of forgotten embarrassments. Just because I can’t control my own biological response doesn’t mean I can’t keep a clear head. Time to end this twisted game.

“I’ll spare you the trouble. Atychiphobia.”

Crane nods with a look that says he won. “Ah. The fear of failure. I should have expected that. Am I going to receive an explanation to go along with this?”

Fear of failure is a peculiar phobia. No matter how hard I try it always seems to make me second-guess everything. People praise me for my accomplishments at the same time I hate myself for not being perfect.

Now the effects of the failed toxin are replaced by a furrowed brow and clenched fists. Crane must think he’s struck the motherlode-

“It’s ok to be upset.”

That’s him? Did someone just replace Dr. Crane with a real therapist? He puts a hand on my still-shaking shoulder and for some reason part of my rage melts away. My mind can’t decide if I’m angry or depressed.

“I never had a ‘normal’ childhood since my parents sent me to prep school. They always wanted me to be the best at everything. Any time I did less than perfect they would shame me.” I scoff and look to the floor. “My father would yell while my mother ranted about how I disgrace the family name.”

“You obviously come from money,” Crane observes softly.

I shrug, still eyeing the cement floor. “It’s no big secret, really. If you do enough digging you’ll probably find news articles of me in high school winning the Metropolis Genius award with comments from my father about how ‘there’s always room for improvement.’ Money means nothing when it comes to love. Flaunting my parents’ riches never gained me anything but a spot in Metropolis University.”

The doctor nods again, almost appearing empathetic. "I think that's enough experiments for today."

I expect him to write more notes but he never does.

“Aren’t you going to write about how sad my childhood was?” I mock darkly. “Just another excuse to keep me locked up as a ‘crazed inmate.’”

But he just shakes his head. “I know a thing or two about family issues. We’ll keep this off the books, shall we?” 

This is the same person who sprayed me with fear gas?

“How did they die?”

There we are. Right back to picking apart my diagnosis.

My eyes narrow. “You know how. Anyone who watches the news knows.”

“It might be better if you say it-”

“They were killed, ok?” I burst, surprising both Jonathon and myself. “Another statistic to the growing number of casualties in Gotham. Some psychos blew up a bridge and they just happened to be driving on it.”

By now I’m shaking both from the last few effects left from the toxin and the emotional imbalance whirling inside me. If it weren’t for the straps still securing me to the wall  I would be bent over in tears. And that’s what happens when I feel Crane release my limbs from the restraints. My knees buckle and I go forward- But instead of ending up sprawled on the ground Crane catches me. I look up and want to yell at him for getting so close but my mind’s too full to speak, distraught with old memories and broken regrets.

“I can see now why you don’t fear death,” Crane whispers.

“The experience of death becomes more familiar the more you are exposed to it. A death of a family member or a close friend could impact how one sees death. Another instance could be a near-death experience such as a heart attack or car crash, causing possible trauma and a different view of death.” I take a shaky breath. “After my parents died, death became everything to me. I believe that if I walk the line of embracing death then I won’t be scared to do anything.”

Slowly, Crane walks me over to a chair and we both sit down. I’m not shaking so much now and I can actually think. “Maybe part of the reason I left Metropolis is to get a fresh start. Though this isn’t exactly the prime scenario.” I gesture to the dull operating theater.

Crane lets out what I think is an actual laugh. No mockery or sarcastic intention at all. “But you have to admit this is far more exciting. You need to loosen up, Dr. Prentiss.”

“And I suppose the man who dresses up in a burlap mask knows all about stress relief?” I arch a brow. “You don’t strike me as someone who goes clubbing.”

“You don’t seem the type either. Am I right?”

I give an annoyed grunt. “Yes. Social drinking is incredibly overrated and only results in bad decisions and depleted brain cells.”

“Speaking of brain cells-” Dr. Crane pulls out what looks like a mini calendar out of his pocket. “I’m scheduling you for both an MRI and a CT scan to make sure there’s no damage to yours.”

He gathers up his things and gestures for me to exit the theater. 

“All for me?” I gush dramatically as we head back to my ‘private cell.’ “Aw, you shouldn’t have.”

Before Crane closes the door he looks through the gate with what appears to be legit concern. “Can’t have a prime mind like yours going to waste, can I?”

[an-au-blog]

Arlong and Dr. Kureha have a long and serious and needed talk after the accident and Dr. Kureha explains to Arlong that kids fall down and get hurt sometimes but thats okay because its better then to help them when they get hurt then not be there at all. Also Jinbei helps Arlong to understand that no matter how much you wanna protect your kids, if you go overboard with it you get kids who don't trust you with important stuff and Arlong gets therapy to help deal with his grief and trauma. And he does apologize to the girls for treating them like they were china dolls and not like real people.

Jinbei agrees to watch the girls while Arlong goes to therapy (he goes on a weekly basis) and Jinbei becomes part of the group as their Uncle Guppy (something that Nami used to call him as toddler and he still insists using it to this day).

Ace is dating Yamato who has the strictest and smothering dad in the world who doesn't approve of anyone dating his son. Lest of all the son of his nemesis. (He and Whitebeard were friends a long time ago but had a falling out when Kaido called Whitebeard's and Dadan's adopted kids, goldfish kids, consolation prize kids and mocked them for taking the easy way to get kids and Whitebeard flipped out and they had a fight that resulted in the cops getting called on them, no charges were pressed but that fight still ended their friendship).

(for context)

Yeah, dr Kureha would.

Jinbei would be a great uncle. He'd give her piggyback rides and the biggest softest hugs.

I love me a modern Romeno and Juliet but like... better because, hot take here, but I don't believe Romeo and Juliet was supposed to be an actual romantic play, more like a critique of the overly cheesy ones. I got a bit off track.

Ace and Yamato sneaking around to meet at first as hangouts and slowly becoming a bit more. Long nights of sharing thought on top of one of their car trunks, ducking every time they see headlights in fear it's one of their dads. Thankfully, it never is.