#realistically i REALLY should ask for help and go to an actual therapist instead of dealing with this alone -

[lonesomenecromancer]

once again, the great question of "if i do this thing i will be upset but if i dont do this thing i will still also be upset"

[organizechaoss]

Fic-Rec Friday!!!

This one is a massively delicious huskerdust slow burn

There are many things I absolutely love about this fic but I think the qualities that are best for a recommendation is: THE PLOT (it's intriguing and well thought out with appropriate twists and turns), ANGEL'S MENTAL ILLNESS (this story circulates on Angel's ability to dissociate and is the most unique and beautiful way I've seen someone write dissociation), CHARACTERIZATION (if you appreciate exploring Alastor's sort of fucked up relationship with Husk, this delves into it in an appropriate way, imo).

If you wanna see more about the plot and more things I love about this fic, see the 'read more' for spoilers and stuff <3

Dissociate, Disappear by FishHeadMan

Rated: M

Words: 143,741

Angel dissociates to cope, but it's making his new relationship complicated. This fic boasts wildly intense HuskerDust hurt/comfort, an 'enemies to queer-platonic' RadioApple ~situation,~ and Angel struggling to heal after violently escaping Val. This fic is like if season 2 was a cozy fantasy about Angel healing & going to actual therapy, instead of a musical comedy adventure about Charlie fighting god. What do people have to do to get into Heaven? Will Alastor be the Big Bad? Will Angel and Husk fuck?! We're getting into all of it.

DEFINITELY worth the read. You should check it out if you're a lover of angst like me <3

[Like always, pls consider giving ME some recommendations (if ya wanna, check this post for what I will or won’t read) but if you have any fics that are a similar vibe to this one, drop it in a comment or a reblog!]

THE PLOT:

we get a few chapters of exposition that is a beautiful introduction to this writer's writing style and how they characterize Husk and Angel and their relationship

and then things start kicking off when Valentino suddenly dies

Angel flips the fuck out and begs for Alastor to help protect him and the hotel (he thinks the V's are going to kill him)

I'm not going to spoil too much on what happens here, but essentially Alastor and Angel make a deal (nothing soul binding) where Angel isn't allowed to tell anyone how exactly Val died, including Husk

There's also fairly entertaining radioapple moments (not romantic) but more of the entertaining tension that they have in the show and lucifer being a quirky celestial and mentally ill

Then the rest of the fic is basically Angel trying to figure out how Val died, trying to redeem himself by doing Charlie's shitty therapy (while dragging Husk along), falls in love with Husk, and figuring out Alastor's fucked up mind.

There's a sub plot of Alastor that is very intriguing about how he became the person he is. This includes flashbacks to his living life and an insight to his mind a couple times throughout the fic

OTHER THINGS:

ofc my favorite parts of most huskerdust fics is the characterization of Husk and this author does it extremely well. Husk isn't Angel's side piece or his therapist or his lovely perfect partner. He's a man who loves Angel but has his own insecurities and ties to the plot with his complicated relationship with Alastor. Angel and Husk navigate sex, love, abuse, and mental illness together. They grow in a realistic way and communicate healthily and realistically (with mistakes and white lies and apologies)

Angel's dissociation is also really intriguing as the author writes it as 'The Presence' which appears a lot like how I imagine DID would feel. The Presence is more of Angel's caregiver and protecter that takes care of Angel when he's hurt or scared. The Presence also doesn't like other people all that much and forces Angel to isolate and not ask for help when he needs it. It's a pretty cool device to show Angel's trauma response and leads to beautifully angsty moments throughout the fic

the finale also ties into my initial point which is gonna be major major spoilers so pls be aware before reading any more of this bullet point... So essentially the end of this fic ends with Husk being tortured by Alastor and Angel coming to save him. We all know I love when Husk gets hurt and this was so so so fun for me. I love the angst and the torture devices that Alastor uses (damn that was a fucked up sentence for me to write... wow). It's also a fun reversal from other fics that have Husk rescuing Angel from his overlord. The tables have turned and Husk needs a lil rescuing this time around and it's great.

there's so much more that I love that I can't possibly write down but if any of this interests you, you should definitely check it out <3

[mbti-notes]

Hello! I love your blog, thank you for spending your time sharing such thoughtful advice !

I was wondering if you have any recommendations in what to look for in a therapist (especially for XNFJS).

I’ve not quite found yet one whom I felt really heard or that actually helped me instead of congratulating me for being “too self aware”.. I know my problems but not what to do with them- instead of useless overthinking patterns.

Is that a common issue? I know how beneficial therapy can be and I suggest it to a lot of people, so it kinda feels frustrating that it doesn’t seem to work for me.

Though I have general knowledge about therapy that I picked up during my education, it isn't my area of specialization, so I can't tell you whether it's a common issue without taking a deep research dive.

1) The Relationship: The success of therapy is very much contingent upon the quality of the therapeutic relationship. It is vital to form a healthy collaborative relationship with the therapist. You must work together to figure out the problem and carry out a plan to resolve it.

Building any kind of good relationship requires some time and effort. On the client's side, there has to be a willingness to open up, explore, communicate, and cooperate. On the therapist's side, there has to be a capacity to listen, empathize, understand, hypothesize, analyze, explain, support, guide, plan, organize, and be impartial and objective. Between you, there has to be a feeling of trust, comfort, rapport, and good personality chemistry/compatibility.

Successful collaboration relies on all of the above ingredients, so if any of them are missing, you might encounter more difficulty.

2) The Purpose: It's good to enter with a clear idea of what you need and want to get out of therapy, what your goals are. What you need or want can in part be related to your personality type. For example, having high Ni and Fe might affect your relationship and communication preferences, and having low Ti and Se might affect your choice of therapist if you want them to play a role in your efforts to use those functions better.

Discussing your needs, wants, and goals at the beginning is good for setting realistic expectations and dispelling any misconceptions about what is/isn't achievable. The therapist should ask about your goals even when you don't bring them up, but it doesn't hurt to be proactive and assertive in communication. You should be able to describe your goals even if it's in very general terms. If you've already been through enough therapy to know that there's a specific form of therapy you want, ask whether the therapist is well-trained in delivering it. If they aren't, have them refer you to someone who is.

Perhaps you've experienced issues in therapy partly because you haven't been clear enough with the therapist about what you need and want. As a general rule, therapists are trained to be emotionally supportive before anything else. Many clients suffer from negativity or low self-esteem, so it's important that the therapist help the client feel better before getting into the thick of things. However, if emotional support in the form of "congratulations" is not what you really need, you have to speak up. The therapist doesn't want to be wasting time either, so help them help you by letting them know whenever they say/do something you deem unhelpful. If they are any good as a therapist, they won't be offended but rather grateful for the clarification.

Remember, in order to build a good relationship, it takes time to get to know each other. The therapist will be slow in getting to know you if you don't assert yourself and express how you really feel. NFJs tend to struggle with, perhaps they're even afraid to speak with complete honesty, so perhaps that's something you need to work on. The sooner you can get the contents of your mind out in the open for the therapist to work with, the faster the process will go for you.

3) The Issue of Self-Awareness: Too often, people don't know any better but to approach therapy as though going to the doctor's office, expecting the therapist to have a definitive answer and prescribe a cure. There is good reason for keeping the fields of psychiatry and psychology separate. You can treat a psychiatrist like a doctor because they are in fact a medical doctor, trained to deal mainly with issues based in biology. However, a therapist works differently because their focus is mainly on the mental side, meaning they must wade through your subjective experience. Dealing with the empirical facts of your biology is very different than dealing with the murky nature of your feelings.

The process of getting to the bottom of mental problems can be quite convoluted due to the subjectivity, complexity, and irrationality of human psychology. Therapy goes more smoothly the more you're able to articulate what is happening in your mind, to describe things with as much clarity and depth of detail as possible. Unfortunately, one big reason therapy is difficult is that clients have varying levels of self-awareness. Due to the way defense mechanisms operate, some people are opaque to themselves and have no idea what's really happening in their mind. They only know that they suffer, which forces the therapist into a role more akin to detective or investigator. They have to explore, probe for clues, and experiment and inch their way ever deeper into the client's mind, often meeting obstacles and resistance along the way.

Since I approach mental health from the perspective of depth psychology, I personally don't believe knowing about problems is enough to call a person self-aware. I suppose you could say that "knowing" is one level of self-awareness, but I would not qualify it as a high or deep level of self-awareness. I've already explained in a previous post the difference between knowing and understanding a problem and how knowing isn't enough.

Have you said exactly what you just said to the therapist, i.e., that you know you have a problem and what you want is to figure out why and how to resolve it? Be direct. Say exactly what you mean.

4) Exercise Your Freedom of Choice: Not every therapist out there will be a good fit, for a variety of reasons:

Therapists are human after all, so they each have their individual traits, preferences, quirks, blind spots, limitations, weaknesses, flaws, etc, that might make them incompatible with you.

There are varying levels of competency among workers in any profession, so some therapists are certainly more skilled or experienced than others with your particular problem.

Humans are diverse and suffer from a wide variety of psychological issues. There's no way for one therapist to understand them all, so they must choose a specialization. Double check that their educational background matches up with the nature of your problem, e.g., you shouldn't go to a grief counselor about an eating disorder.

Keep an open mind and grant yourself opportunity to shop around and try out many options. You ask me what to look for in a therapist and the simplest answer I can give you is to find one that is well-suited to your needs. But, going back to the earlier point, the more primary step is to be able to express what exactly it is you need.

[pinkopalina]

Hello I didn't get to say this the other time but you just reminded me!!! That therapist sounds so bad like genuinely how did they even end up a therapist? I hope you find someone who can help you:<

i will give her the benefit of the doubt and say maybe she was just trying to apply a lot of realistic out in the community perspectives, and I tried to meet her in the middle with that.

I told her maybe I'm not so unstable that I'm actively hurting myself or others, it's cool that I'm able to keep a full time job and I do have a stable relationship, so that's great, but I told her I have an extremely difficult time regulating my emotions.

asking me "how are you" can be triggering for me, is how unstable my EMOTIONS are, even if my life seems stable. the only reason it's stable is because I bottle everything up and then lash out and/ut I've pushed a lot of people away (unfortunately as a consequence. hey if it keeps people happy I guess ... I'd rather they not be with me), and I don't want to do either of those anymore.

I told her I was trying to figure out where I was with my mental health bc idk what's normal, idk how unstable I should feel, how much something should stress me out all I know is that I'm not doing it right at the moment

I only did two sessions but each time I ended up crying and venting a LOT. because I hadn't gone to therapy in a couple of years and I've lost friends in that time and blah blah blah depressing shit.

the second session, she didn't really comfort me or have any therapeutic advice, just watched as I had a break down, asked me if I had done ketamine (because I was talking about how WATCHING THE CARTOON PRIMAL CHANGED MY PERSPECTIVE. APPARENTLY THIS IS EQUIVALENT TO DOING DRUGS.), told me these sessions seem to bring up a lot for me, and then asked me if doing 30 minutes was okay instead of the 50 she usually allots her patients. I told her it was okay, but I IMMEDIATELY felt huge red flags, I wish I had told her I didn't think that was a smart idea, it immediately triggered my abandonment issues (she didn't even try to help me get through the breakdown I was having. she helped me do box breathing so I could stop sobbing but then she cut me off in the fucking middle of the conversation and indicated to me that NEITHER of us currently have the skills to be in therapy with each other).

I'm not fucking paying you to listen to me EVEN less, and talk to me less, because you can't handle my emotions. that's the fucking solar opposite (lol) of why I'm even here

so I'm not going to be looking for another fucking talk therapist right now, even when they claim they've been around other people with mental issues.

I decided that when I have the time and money I'm going to seek an actual psychiatrist who can be dedicated to diagnosing and medicating me properly instead of being triggered that I'm triggered and taking all my money but doing half the fucking work

[olderthannetfic]

You have way more wisdom and experience than I do and also approach topics with a lot of nuance (which I really appreciate) so I was hoping you could offer some help. If this ask is too heavy or it's too weird feel free to ignore.

I've been Poor my whole life and I've also been severely mentally ill most of my life. Mental health care isn't covered by my country's government and therapy is really expensive so I pushed on using mostly online tips and tricks to manage my depression. But that's not working anymore. I do everything I see online but it's not helping any longer. I've journaled in old school notebooks, I've worked out at home so much I'd be buff if I wasn't too underweight to gain muscle, the little food I can afford is so meticulously chosen as to be healthy that I put health food bloggers to shame and a host of other stuff people tell you will cure depression.

I recently realized that a lot of the things that happened to me as a kid were actually extremely traumatic and abusive which only added to it.

I'm desperate for any support but I can't afford therapy and I also can't just say to my friends "I need you to help me with complex trauma." that would be overstepping boundaries and also very entitled of me, so I'm definitely not doing that.

I worry that eventually it will be too much and I'll fully have a mental breakdown, which would be disastrous for me as I pay for my college myself and a mental breakdown wouldn't exactly be good for my barely above minimum wage job.

How do I prevent that? Are there any sources that can assist you when you know that realistically you can't afford therapy? Or are there books or online services that can help? Is there way to work through this right now until I save enough for a therapist. I'm at my wits end and it's starting to become obvious to those around me that I'm struggling a lot mentally. Just going through the day is soul crushing and my only motivation is the money I pay for my degree not being wasted.

This is a lot to ask from anyone, especially an online stranger, so please don't feel obligated to answer. if you can't answer that's fine and I'll probably ask Reddit again. Also if any part of this is trauma dumping please let me know as I struggle with knowing when I'm just telling people stuff and when I'm trauma dumping

--

Nah, this isn't trauma dumping. That usually involves more details of what happened to you and is often in a derailing context in an existing conversation.

Unfortunately, if there were easy answers, you'd already have found them.

The first thing is not to beat yourself up. Mental illness and poverty do a number on anybody.

All that "go jogging to feel better" shit is for people who have mild situational depression. You don't. No matter how hard you work, none of that crap is going to fix it. I mean, eating healthy couldn't hurt, but it's not your fault it didn't work. It was never going to work.

Yours is presumably a brain that needs meds, and until you can afford to pump some different chemicals into it, it's going to keep making the wrong ones and ruining your day. Health is a nice goal... Under the current circumstances, however, I think a more useful goal is just to survive. Every day above ground is a win.

As long as you're still kicking, there's always time for things to improve. You don't need to be a superhero and fix yourself right now. You just need to make it through school till you can at least focus on just the shitty job instead of the shitty job plus school. (And hopefully, a better job, eventually.) Whatever keeps you upright and heading for that goal is what you should do.

In terms of specific resources, you could try looking up the DBT resources other people have been talking about. DBT seems to be used on otherwise intractable depression, suicidal tendencies, etc. and often on people with a hot mess of a childhood.

Unstructured journaling and general "try to be healthy" stuff has not helped, so I would focus on more structured practices that involve specific homework. Meditation and mindfulness exercises may help (and are a part of DBT).

[golbrocklovely]

I fully agree with you, if he hasnt walked a mile in another person’s shoes, someone who hasnt had it easy, hasnt lived a life of privileged or had that cushion where he knew if he fucked up he could easily move back with mom and dad, then he has no right to tell people how it is and how its supposed to be based on what he’s read off self help books. Its not like he spent years helping malnourished children in a extremely poor part of the world and went “wow these people with so little still manage to be happy by doing this”, no he bought philosophy for dummies and ran with it.

Personally i think the people that preach the most like he does are trying to convince themselves they are happy, so they go on these rants and spiels trying to convince people it should be like this or that because that is how their life is currently like and because they really aren’t happy. Not to sound like a jerk because i’d kill to have that life where i can be my own boss, follow my own schedule, and my biggest headache is “i need to edit & film” and not “how the fuck am i going to pay rent”, but Sam is over here complaining about editing all the time and how “its starting to feel like work”, yeah im not gonna feel bad for you buddy when you’ve had the means to hire editors and a team, no one told you to disassociate from friends or move and buy A second mansion and just abandon the first one. His issues are rich people problems and for him to have the audacity to say we shouldn’t put all our joy into vacationing!!! When the majority of us cant afford to travel every other week like him is absurd.

The same way Colby gets called out for the littlest things, i WISH someone would call him out and tell him if he feels like ranting to go to a therapist first and then if he still can’t scratch that itch, to actually take the time to get out of his comfort zone and learn about people and society instead of being so generalized with his thinking.

i don't think he would have to go that far to understand struggle. but i do think weirdly he can come across with a lack of empathy. i think he genuinely cares, but i don't think he fully grasps how bad some ppl have it. hell, even i to some extent don't. but bc my lows have been deadly to some extent, i care for those who have struggled more than me, bc i could barely make it thru.

and you nailed it right on the head. i think internally he struggles to find himself, to find things that make him happy, and bc of that, he tries to project this air of "i'm so happy and you can be just like me if you follow along." and it's just… not realistic.

i personally believe that regardless of life circumstance, you can still bitch about how life feels. even they have bad days. my issue is that maybe venting to us isn't the best way to go about it. go vent to your influencer friends who understand you gripe. i will say tho, when they do complain, they also immediately follow it up with "but we don't really have all that much to complain about" so… win some lose some lol

but i do get your point that they could easily hire someone to help take the stress of editing out of their life, but instead don't forever whatever reason bc they want someone they can mold into the perfect editor for them.

side note, and not related to this at all, on xplrclub they talked about how they might be hiring this one editor who's gonna basically do sam's half (or at least help out with that half) and i'm just like…. WHY THAT HALF??? they bitch constantly that they don't want anything flashy that a lot of editors do now-a-days, so clearly they want control on the back end of the editing. why not just hiring someone to cut the video up and make it make sense, and then the two of them can split between the music, subtitles, transitions, ect???? that would be SO much easier. also i basically said at this point they should just hire a fan to edit bc even i at this point could make a video like theirs lol

anyway back to your ask

oh yeah, when he talked about not living for things like vacation and trying to find happiness or positivity in the mundane, i get it. but like…. wrong messenger. you can actually afford a vacation. some of us can't and will never be able to. so like, if we some how miraculously can, shut the fuck up and let me enjoy it sksksks

highkey i would love for snc to both go to a therapist. like, i just know they need one. we all do tbh. but at least they can afford to go to one.

[vegalocity]

I have to ask for another Jasmintea because I love your writing so Kisses 15 and 28 and Touches 24, please. Preferably in Sandy’s perspective but you can do Tang’s if you want

Affection meme

15. Soothing kisses

28. Neck Kisses

24. Whispering in their ear, lips touching the skin

I don’t think we done any Jasminetea stuff where Tang is Just Some Guy, so i’m gonna do that here because it’s my favorite theory (like everyone else has some deep connections to the classic Pilgrims, Tang is just Some Guy, it’s hilarious)

@tigerseye46

--

He knew the way trauma worked, that sometimes, even long after you’ve processed and moved on, it can still hit you again. It’s one of the things he’d learned rather quickly after starting therapy. His therapist had wanted him to understand that first and foremost so he could better handle these moments as they came and not begin to think that he may be ‘getting worse’ or something along the same lines.

Thankfully he was always content with being the odd duck in his little family, new and old members alike knew that he preferred solitude. While he enjoyed company and would be as pleasant as possible, while he’d do anything for his family, he just preferred the quiet. Which meant that when those sort of relapses happened and a trigger made its way straight into his panic response he was alone.

Well… not ALONE alone granted at least Mo and the other cats were always there, but alone-ish.

There was no point in bothering the others with it. The kids would just be worried, He’d rather Pigsy not find out, Eldest brother…. Likely already knew, he’d poked into his brother’s web history when they were at Flower Fruit Mountain he’d spotted ‘Do I have PTSD?’ in his search history, so it couldn’t have been hard for him to put two and two together.

But Tang…

He really didn’t want Tang to know.

It wasn’t exactly a hope that had any real chance at turning out in his favor, especially since through some minor miracle Tang had somehow gotten it into his head that he was actually someone worth desiring, and now they were… a thing… then surely it would be coming out sooner or later.

He’d just more realistically hoped that it would be on his own terms.

Not like this.

Not with him sealing himself in the water tight shower stall on his boat, letting the water run with the drain plugged until he was totally submerged because the water in the harbor was too dirty too slimy, too full of pollution and invasive mollusk species, it wasn’t the way water was supposed to be, but the only way he could feel okay right now was if he let his gills open up and breathe so he had to make do.

It wasn’t ideal. When he had these specific bouts he’d much rather just take the day, sail out until land was just a speck on the horizon and the ocean water felt much more right, but he didn’t have the option today, he really didn’t want to cancel the date he and Tang were going to go on tonight, and that coupled with the fact that he’d long since given everyone standing ‘always welcome aboard’ invites, that meant that anytime within at least fifteen minutes of the assumed meeting time, Tang was going to just show up, and he needed to be ready.

So this and then whatever yoga he could fit in the time between him calming down and the assumed date time would likely help him stabilize enough that he could handle tonight, at worst he might not stay for a cup of tea when he brought Tang home like the gentleman he wanted to be (and both Tang AND Pigsy would playfully mock him about being) and he could then take tomorrow for himself and do his usual plan.

He knew better than to get frustrated, days like this were just part of the process, he should be glad His bad days didn’t usually try to bring out the rage that had (for the most part) become quiet.

Then there was a tapping on the glass, disturbing the water and making an echoey ‘thunk thunk’ that startled him from his meditation. He flailed and the water sloshed and swirled around him with his motions, as he turned in the direction of the threatthreatthreatthreat the noise.

Tang was peering in on the other side, eyes wide and curious.

“Did I come at a bad time?” his voice was distorted and muffled between the glass and the water but Sandy heard him all the same, his heart a panicked flutter in his chest when did Tang even get there? Why was he here so early? Or- or was he on time? Did he lose track of time? He couldn’t lose track of time like that! Not when he still wasn’t better, not when being outside the water made his skin too dry and his hair too stiff and his gills close up and notsafenotsafenotsafenotsafe-

He wasn’t ready yet. He wasn’t ready yet! He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out he wasn’t better yet.

It seemed Tang quickly began to pick up on what was going on, much to Sandy’s equal relief and embarrassment, curious eyes turning sad for a moment, before the thoughtful gears began to turn. He nodded to himself and held up a hand.

-Before standing and calmly leaving him to his devices.

The part of him that was still screeching and refusing to calm insisted that it was better this way, but he still couldn’t help but miss the company, however brief it was.

Tang was always a bit… energetic… in comparison to Pigsy or himself (even back when they were young! (when Pigsy and Tang were young at least)) a bit of a thrillseeker even if he didn’t overtly appear as such. But he was glad that he at least had the good sense to just leave Sandy to his devices, perhaps fixing himself some tea and settling down with a book, allowing Sandy the time he needed before he was ready, honestly Tang was just such a great guy already it did quite a bit to settle his mind to be assured that he was going to be patient with him when it came to this, should it happen again (he hoped not for a long time, but his hands weren’t anywhere near done shaking yet so these ‘unsafe’ moods might start making themselves more frequent again.

And then Tang burst back into the room, shed of his outer layers and clad only in his undershirt and boxers and a stepladder, determined grin looking far too cute for the pieces Sandy was quickly putting together. It didn’t take much for his head to go above water so he could speak, he technically just hand to arrange himself so he was sitting on his knees instead of rear and straighten his back, and Tang had the look in his eye that implied this was probably going to be an ‘academic debate’ he’d lose--Several argument points and a fair few more rebuttals already on the tip of his partner’s tongue as he set the stepladder at the base of the shower and started attempting to heave himself over the edge of the shower walls--so he did so to both be able to speak and to better make a bit of room.

“Studies! Have! Shown! -huff huff- that! Acts! Of-!” A yelp cut Tang off as his grip nearly slipped and sent him backward, Sandy jolted, about to stand up to help but Tang regained his footing and held out a hand to wave him off as he finally was half tilted on the top of the glass shower wall, resting for a moment before trying to heave the rest of his body over the edge. “Where was I? Right, acts of solidarity are better for recovery in the long run than simply allowing the person who needs it to stew on their own.” And then with one final scrabble against the glass Tang braced himself and dropped.

And would have completely bashed his head against the showerhead if Sandy didn’t reach out and properly lower him onto the tile.

Instantly he watched his partner freeze up, stiffen and hands suddenly clamp around his chest as the temperature of the water hit him at once.

“Wow that’s cold!”

Sandy hummed and prepared to help him back out but Tang took a breath and dunked his head and shoulders underwater briefly to be properly soaked before resurfacing, pushing his hair back in a way that had no business being so pretty while Sandy was still in the middle of freaking out. “Much better.”

“Can you talk right now?” Quite the question. Talking while his gills were open was always a bit of a hit or miss situation. Sometimes it just made his voice sound a bit garbled, but if he had just surfaced from the water-

He held out a hand infront of his mouth and tested, and sure enough nothing but the faintest huff came out. So he just shook his head in the negative and smiled to try and relay a quick apology.

Tang hummed. “Yes or no questions then.” He was too good. He’d clearly researched this whole thing long ago and had been preparing what to do when the time came ever since, not coming out and saying so, but being prepared when the opportunity arose.

In a strange way it sort of reminded him of something Master would do… He really needed to get back in contact with Sanzang actually, But what would he say to him? Would master even recognize him after everything that had changed? Would he be upset that he’d tracked down Middle Brother’s reincarnation and hadn’t immediately gone to tell him? Or keeping the fact that Eldest Brother was starting to participate in the world around them again and hadn’t immediately gone to him and told him he was right in anticipating Sun Wukong’s eventual return? Would he just be upset with him for how long it had been since they’d spoken? They used to all be so close would the gap that would have formed be so wide and massive that they may as well be strangers again-

“Can I touch you?” Tang broke through his quickly spiraling thoughts calmly. Sandy peered down into the water again and saw him wringing his hands nervously.

He nodded.

“Just push me off if it gets uncomfortable.” Tang paused for a moment. “Not too hard though, Pigsy might say i have a hard head but I don’t know if it would handle collision with tile”

Sandy was able to get a quick laugh out of that, though it came out as silent as anything else with his throat and lungs full of water.

He opened his arms and Tang slotted comfortably inside. It was a bit awkward, since he had to make sure his partner could keep his head above water, but it was manageable, quickly Tang braced himself on Sandy’s shoulders and began to press gentle kisses to what exposed skin was above water.

And it was a bit embarrassing how quickly it was calming the raging storm in his mind. Just… the presence of another warm body against his but still cool and protected by the water around him, it made a shiver crawl up his spine but… in a pleasant way.

Tang pressed himself a little further against Sandy’s chest, mouth resting on the space between his cheek and ear. “I’ll shut up now.”

He wished he knew how that little insecurity got its way into Tang’s head. The man was one of the most confident people he knew, (save Big Brother, but nobody could shake the confidence of Sun Wukong.) and he would show unshakeable he was under cruel words every time they were aimed at him, hell, his primary method of rapport with Pigsy was the both of them bullying eachother relentlessly (in their own words too!) but for some reason once they got romantically involved Tang kept making self-deprecating jokes about being ‘annoying’ and ‘talking too much’ and Sandy’s heart ached when he couldn’t help but wonder how many relationships Tang had been in that crumbled from his supposed ‘annoying’ nature.

Tang took then to take a gasping breath and plunged beneath the water. Sandy was worried for a moment, but then it seemed like Tang knew exactly what he was doing, quickly pushing aside the floating beard hair and wriggling his face in to get near his neck, and for a moment Sandy froze. His gills were still gently pushing and pulling the water through his system and even though he knew Tang would never (intentionally) hurt him his body stiffened as his face (Mouth, teeth, he knows how painful it is to have air blown into your gills he hates it he hates it what’s Tang gonna do he has him at his mercy now) came near such a sensitive part of his body.

Tang placed a gentle kiss on his neck, right over the topmost gill and pulled back out, taking a gasping breath upon surfacing.

“You know, today might just be a good day for one of those low energy ‘Stay in’ dates, wouldn’t you agree?” He was so good.

Too good for him.

But still Sandy nodded and Tang smiled at him in that handsome broad way again before taking another breath and plunging back down.

--

send me stuff!

[florenceandthemachine]

The last meet-cute I asked you for was so good and I saw this prompt on someone else’s blog so if it sparks anything: “We’re both hiding in the garden furniture section of IKEA”

do you ever see a prompt and just have a full fucking fic pop into your head? just me? ok. 

here’s some fluffy-trope-y-nonsense! also saw you just had lasik sorry if reading this unedited nonsense makes you go blind again xoxo

When it came to IKEA, Eddie was typically a messy person. Normally, he relied on one of two things if he needed to stay focused; a thorough, detailed list, or Christopher, who had absolutely no patience for Eddie wandering through a literal warehouse of crap, designing for a home he didn’t buy.

Which was rough, considering his current mission—buy some new furniture for Chris’s room for his birthday. Which meant he had no list, no sense of direction, and no Christopher to keep him on track. That would normally spell a recipe for a distracted disaster—but he was so focused, so determined to get this right, that he was confident in his shopping abilities for once. He had to be, he only had two hours until Carla brought Chris home, and two hours wasn’t enough for an IKEA visit on a normal day. So he had to be focused.

He’s so focused, in fact, that as he passes by the Poäng’s and the Fjällbo’s, he almost doesn’t notice the man in the plants.

And no, that isn’t something that he can clarify. 

There is a man. In. The plants. 

What?

He tries to walk away, but the image of a tallish, blondish, beefyish, honestly pretty cuteish if Eddie is being honest, fully grown adult hiding in the plastic bamboo is a bit too much for him to ignore.

“You know, those plants are fake. If you’re trying to check the soil, they’re definitely not gonna need water any time soon.”

He tries not to laugh as Plant Man immediately stumbles, nearly knocking over a Smycka, a Fejka, and a whole case of hanging planters as he turns around. It’s cute. Kinda sad, but cute.

“Oh! Uh, yeah, I kind of figured. I mean, they’re realistic looking, but definitely fake. No, I’m—I’m hiding.”

Hiding? This was an IKEA, a place where you could get lost without even trying. 

“You’re hiding.”

“Yeah. My ex is here.”

Oooooohh. That, Eddie could understand. 

It was easy enough to spot who he thought was the culprit, if the harrowed look on her face and half empty yellow bag was anything to go by. 

“Shorter, redhead, kind of sloppy smokey eye, looks like she would stab someone with a high heel?”

Plant Guy laughed, but the sound didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, that’s Taylor.”

Eddie pretended to be engrossed in his phone as he looked over to the stranger again, tilting his head to the side. 

“Well, I’ll tell you what. If you agree to help me load what I buy into my truck, and get me a plate of meatballs before we leave—the full size plate, by the way, I’m not settling for less than ten meatballs—I’ll help you get rid of her for good. I’m Eddie, by the way.”

“I’m Buck.” Plant guy—Buck—looked like Eddie had just handed him a goose that laid golden eggs. “For good? No, way. You can really do that?”

“I can.” Eddie said seriously, extending a hand to Buck. “But you have to trust me. My methods may be extreme, but I can almost guarantee results.”

A bit dramatic, maybe, but he still found himself smiling as Buck easily took his hand, taking a moment to savor the warmth. A sharp tug was all he needed to pull Buck up and out of the plants, making a sort of yelping noise, stumbling over a row of Boysenbär pots as Eddie put a hand on his hip, helping him steady. 

The effect was instantaneous—while the noise wasn’t loud, it was just enough to draw the attention of anyone who happened to be searching through the warehouse already. 

Eddie could feel the redhead’s eyes laser lock onto him as he steadied Buck’s hips, his opposite hand coming to cup Buck’s cheek. 

“Sweetheart, you okay?” He plastered what he hoped was a look of concern on his face as Buck turned bright red, something that thankfully could be attributed to his stumbling, and not the fact that a near stranger was calling him ‘sweetheart’. He was mercifully quick on the uptake, at least, a smile blooming over his face as he chuckled, ducking his head, pressing into Eddie’s hand a bit more, and oh, wow, that was fucking adorable.

“Yeah, I’m good, sorry, I just… thanks, baby.”

Eddie chuckled as he dropped the hand from Buck’s face, the hand on his hip lacing with Buck’s instead, tugging him along. “C’mon, I want to look at a new lamp for the living room. We need something brighter, and as much as your smile lights up a room, I’m tired of stubbing my toe in the morning.” Eddie said, pulling that story directly out of his ass, hoping that he was selling the ‘teasing boyfriend’ aspect as he pulled Buck along.

It was purely coincidence that the route to the lighting section of the warehouse was only a row away from the redhead that was currently glaring daggers into Eddie’s back. 

Once they turned the corner, Eddie let his hand slide out of Buck’s easily, the air a little cooler than he was expecting after being so close to someone so hot something so warm. 

“Holy shit, that was amazing.” Buck blurted out, looking at Eddie like he hung the moon, and yeah, Eddie could admit, he preened a little under the admiring gaze.

“There you go. You’ve just earned yourself a harassment free shopping experience.” Eddie said proudly, winking as he took a few steps back, snatching up a yellow bag and tossing it over his shoulder easily. Buck still looked a little flustered, and honestly, it was cuter than anything Eddie could have hoped for—but the tick of his watch brought him back to his mission. “Hey, I hate to scare off an ex and run, but I gotta make some quick choices, so...”

“Oh! Oh, uh, for sure. Thanks again, Eddie.”

“No problem. Good luck, Buck.” Eddie winked for good measure as he turned around, feeling warmth pool in his stomach. He hadn’t had that much fun flirting since before he was married, and while he worried occasionally that he lost his touch, the blush on Buck’s face begged to differ.

--

Eddie was making good time. He had narrowed it down to two potential presents—it was either a Vitval bunkbed / loft, complete with a desk and a physical-therapist-approved ladder, and Eddie knew that Chris had been dying for a bunkbed for forever, but... on the other hand, there was the Phal workspace, with plenty of drawers, shelves, and surfaces for Chris to completely drown with his pictures, Legos, arts and crafts. 

He had been stuck between the two—literally, standing between both display models—when he felt a hand slide into his own, blinking in surprise, a low voice in his ear before he could turn. 

“Sorry, uh, she followed me out of textiles. I’m so sorry, this is super weird, I just can’t shake her off, and—”

“Phal or Vitval?” Eddie asked, cutting him off, raising a brow as Buck just blinked.

“Uh, gesundheit?”

“Very funny.” Eddie said, squeezing Buck’s hand, tilting his head between the two. “I’ve been stuck here for like twenty minutes, and you’ve been no help, leaving me just so you could get your...” A quick peek into Buck’s bag told him everything he needed to know. “...artwork and lightbulbs. Which should we go with? Phal or Vitval?”

Buck blanched at that and Eddie let himself chuckle, shaking his head as Buck groaned. “Come on, Eddie, you know I’m no good at making decisions. I don’t even remember which toothpaste I like, I rely on you for things like that.” he said, and Eddie had to admit, he was impressed with the little tidbits of information Buck was throwing into their faux-relationship so easily. If this Taylor chick was still in earshot, Eddie would have bet that she was just plain pissed by now.

“I know, I know. You really are hopeless, aren’t you?” Eddie said with an exaggerated sigh, bringing their linked hands up to his cheek, pressing Buck’s knuckles against the corner of his mouth. It wasn’t intimate enough to be a kiss, not really, but to the casual bystander it would have looked like a simple show of affection, kissing his boyfriends knuckles in the middle of an IKEA. 

As he pulled the hand back, he did a quick scan around them—no redheads in sight. “I think your coast is clear—is she still hanging around?”

Snapping himself out of what looked like a trance, Buck blushed again—Eddie could get really used to that—and looked around, shaking his head. “No, I think she’s gone, um. Thanks again. And sorry. Again.” he said, their hands falling free again. Buck was the one to retreat this time, pointing a thumb over his shoulder. “I should, uh, probably go back and grab the dish set I had to ditch, but If you want my opinion, you should definitely go with the Flem.”

“Buck,” Eddie started, trying and failing to keep the smile off of his face and the laughter out of his voice as Buck turned away. “That was not an option!”

“Sorry, can’t hear you! Go with the Flem!”

--

In the end, Eddie had wound up buying both—Chris was turning ten, damn it, Eddie was allowed to treat him—and finished up ahead of schedule, swinging by the restaurant to make sure he had everything before he started the trek out to the parking garage. He was double checking his receipt when a tray clunked down across from him, two plates of meatballs sliding his way as his brows rose up into his hairline. 

Buck sat down shortly after, looking incredibly too apologetic as he handed Eddie a fork. “Sorry, she kind of followed me away from the register, and I saw you here, and... I did promise you meatballs, right?” he offered, and Eddie actually laughed, resting his head in his hand as he took the fork Buck offered, raising a meatball to Buck’s lips to help keep up posterity—and immediately stealing one from Buck’s plate for himself afterward. “So, Buck. What do you do when you’re not hiding in fake bamboo?”

It was incredibly easy to talk to Buck, Eddie found, dangerously easy. They had a fair amount in common, turned out—both had older sisters, Buck with one while Eddie had three, both spent a good amount of time at the gym when they weren’t at home, and Buck had spent some time with the SEALs while Eddie was in the Army.

They even worked together, in a sense—Buck was a firefighter with the 118 while Eddie was a paramedic with Station 6.

“...though I promise, I did not come to IKEA to enlist the help of a handsome paramedic in avoiding an ex girlfriend that literally might be Satan in disguise. I just needed some art to cover a drill hole in my wall before my landlord kills me.”

Eddie almost swallowed his fork, feeling a certain thrill build up inside of him—Buck was flirting. Flirting with Eddie! Eddie hadn’t been flirted with in an age and a half, but as much as he wanted it to continue, he knew that it would be unfair for him to let it continue without addressing the childs-bunk-bed-sized elephant in the room. “Well, much as I hate to admit it, I didn’t come to IKEA today to help a firefighter run away from Satan either. I’m here today buying some furniture for my kid. It’s his birthday next week.”

Eddie squared his jaw, watching Buck process the information, ready for the easy let down. “You have a son?”

Here it comes. Oh, well it was nice meeting you. Oh, well thanks again. Oh, enjoy your day, Oh—

“Do, um. Do you have pictures of him? I love kids.”

... oh. 

Any hesitation Eddie might have felt melted way as he brought his phone back up, easily scrolling through endless pictures of Chris, paying painful attention to the way Buck’s eyes grew wider than his smile.

Oh, no. 

Buck wasn’t just hot, he was cute.

--

Eddie had to admit; after Buck helped him load the furniture into the bed of his truck, true to his word, and Eddie had scribbled his number out on Buck’s hand with a hot pink marker (the hazards of sharing a vehicle with a kid), he wasn’t sure what he should be expecting. What he definitely wasn’t expecting was a message to be waiting on his phone as soon as he started his truck.

Unknown Number, 11:01 AM: so maybe i have a confession to make

Sent, 11:03 AM: Maybe?

Eddie couldn’t deny the spike of curiosity he felt with that, taking a moment to save Buck’s number in his phone as the three dots appeared again.

Buck, 11:05 AM: yes, maybe. taylor maybe actually left when you pulled me out of the plants

i didn’t see her again for the rest of the day

i was just kind of... being self indulgent after that

wow this sounds way creepier than i thought i am so sorry

Literally laughing out loud in his car, Eddie let himself reread the message twice, a smile growing on his face as he typed out a response.

Sent, 11:09 AM: Tell you what. You help me build these monstrosities, maybe bring over a beer, maybe let me kiss you goodnight, and I promise I won’t hold your awkward flirting against you.

He felt another thrill race through his stomach as he sent the message, putting his truck in gear, not trusting himself to look down as his phone buzzed again until he was safely at a stop light.

Buck, 11:11 AM: it’s a date :) :) :) :)

[sunnys-rewatch-blog]

S2, E1

"It's Alive"

TW: SA mention

Whoohoo! We have passed the landmark of reaching season 2. So far I am still very much enjoying myself, in spite of the many criticisms you see here.

It is absolutely horrible that someone had proof Jenna was SA-ing Toby and they did nothing to help or protect him.

"He's probably on his way to the meat grinder!"- thanks for the visual, Em. I guess her and Alison bonded over being fucking morbid and watching Mr. Meaty.

They were blackmailing Ian? Doesn't blackmail imply some kind of manipulation or extortion? Oh, the money!

Are the adults really trying to take these kids to a therapist as a display for public sympathy? No wonder they're so resistant and feel like it's punitive! This is something that should come from a place of compassion and care! It's so infuriating, by making them feel like they're completely being forced into it you're setting them up to resist treatment instead of getting help. How was Alison not traumatized with the knowledge that they would care so little about her death?

Fuck. Off. Peter Hastings.

Wasn't anyone gonna tell me you can buy breast milk online, or was I just supposed to find out from PLL? I looked this up and it's actually true. I don't know what to do with this information, but now I have it.

Aria is, realistically, going through so much right now and both Ezra and the showrunners think Ezria is so goddamn important we have to have this little "Are we over?" chat like. Right now. Man, I get it in a way, but sometimes you need to be okay with being on the backburner.

Where even are the Cavanaugh parents?

Pam, truly, could not be any more wrapped up in herself. What is she thinking, with this move to Texas? I understand the family stuff and wanting to be with your husband, and even wanting to leave this town where your neighbor's kid died and weird shit keeps happening- but Emily is kind of...involved in a murder case. She's been questioned several times in regards to this investigation at this point, and that doesn't show signs of stopping, especially since she is also now involved in a second death. I don't know what they do if they need to conduct a police interview across state lines. Maybe it's as simple as making a phone call.

More to consider, though, is what do you know about queer acceptance in the area? That's something maybe a homophobic "cishet" (in quotes because it's implied but never confirmed, in-cannon) wouldn't think to ask, but there are places in the US where LGBTQ+ acceptance hasn't progressed much. From what I know- thanks to a friend who has Texan contacts and has visited at least once-the major cities are generally pretty accepting, but other areas vary wildly. It's still common for people to move to safer places, some have to stay closeted until they can do so. Queer culture is Googling the new city you're about to move to so you can assess your personal safety.

Side note- what even is Pam's profession? Is she supposed to just be a housewife? Last time I checked, "wallowing in self-pity and feeling personally victimized over my daughter's sexuality" doesn't pay very well.

...how much time has passed since Lucas left to go pick up Caleb? How much school has he missed? Someone should be looking for him, too.

Is this supposed to be group therapy? Or are the writers just banking on having an audience that doesn't know how therapy works?

Caleb sure does fall hard, fast. He really went all the way back to Rosewood just so that Hanna wouldn't think he left without saying "Goodbye."

And, to be fair, Mona ripping up and trashing his letter isn't anything that most good friends wouldn't do. If they weren't trying so hard to sell us "Haleb= True Love," this would be portrayed as commendable.

I know the whole "fake dating to true love" pipeline is a trope, but they do it with at least two of the Liars and it's not really satisfying in either case. In my opinion, it sucks all of the enjoyment out of it for the narrative to keep it a secret from the audience, there's way more joy in it to watch a scheme unfold- especially if both characters have an investment in the farce. The way it's done here doesn't build tension, so when the boiler explodes it seems sudden and out of place.

The girls have had one complete session with this therapist and she already thinks they should be forcibly separated.

Why would the name they picked out be something only Ian would know? I don't think Melissa even once implied this name was a secret. Maybe it makes sense in her mind that no one else could have possibly been told before she was told and couldn't have found out after.

Even though I don't find Ian likeable, and he's kinda squicky going after young girls, I almost wish he had been alive. I want to see what effect that would have on the story.

[cordria]

Horror

Danny dropped onto his bed with a groan, exhausted after a long day of traveling. Of course Jazz had to pick a college so far away, and end up in a dorm room up several flights of stairs, and pack herself a library’s worth of heavy books. It had been a very long couple of hours getting her settled in her dorm room.

But now she was gone, and Danny’s head was filling with all the positives. The quieter house. An empty room - the larger one, with the better view - that Danny had plans for maneuvering himself in to. And, perhaps the best one, no more nosy budding therapist trying to explain away everything she saw.

He stretched, feeling some of the tension in his muscles fade away. Being home was awesome.

“FAMILY MEETING!” came a shout from downstairs.

Danny moaned, rolling onto his stomach and burying his head in his hands. “Really?” he muttered. “We’ve been home for, like, five minutes.” He glanced over at his bag, still sitting where he’d thrown it. “I haven’t even unpacked yet.”

“DANNY!”

“Alright, alright,” Danny said, crawling off his bed and slinking downstairs. He really would rather have taken a nap.

His parents were already perched in their spots in the living room, a vaguely familiar poster spread out on the coffee table. Danny eyed it, then headed towards his normal spot on the couch. It felt weird, being the only one on the couch. Lopsided, almost.

“We just got home,” Danny complained, “what’s so important?”

His mother took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and glanced at his father. Danny followed the look, but looked back at Maddie when neither spoke. “Well,” she finally started, “we’ve been talking.”

Obviously. Danny caught the word before it escaped his mouth. There was always a lot of conversation leading up to one of these family meetings. Danny usually knew what these meetings were going to be about, because his family didn’t have the ability to discuss things in any sort of a quiet tone. This one was a bit of surprise - a lot of the talking had probably happened in the RV, driving back from dropping Jazz off at college, while Danny was listening to music and playing games on his phone. He twitched an eyebrow up, waiting for her to continue.

“Now that you’re the oldest child here, that comes with certain responsibilities and expectations-”

“You’re going to have more chores,” Jack cut in.

“Jack,” she chided. “That’s not… well, yes, we’re going to have to split the chores three ways now instead of four, so we’ll all have more chores… but that’s not the point of this conversation.”

“Then why did you make me get the chore poster?” Jack muttered.

Maddie scowled at the man before turning back to Danny with a smile.

Danny felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise and his stomach tighten. “Um…?”

“You’re older, you’re getting more responsible, and we want to reward that budding maturity. And we want to start getting you on a path towards becoming a young man.”

Danny waited. His mother was being very, very careful with her words. It didn’t bode well. “Okay...” he said into the silence, trying to figure out where this was going. It always paid to be two steps ahead of his parents when they were planning their words this carefully; these sorts of conversations rarely worked out in his favor.

“Starting next week, you’re going to start working for us a few hours each week. Mostly weekends, so you can keep caught up with your school work.”

Danny’s jaw dropped. “But I don’t have time for that!” he protested. “The ghosts don’t-”

“That’s another thing we need to discuss,” she interrupted, her voice going from searching and tentative to more firm. “With your sister here, we had someone to help keep tabs on this ghost hunting thing of yours-”

“Thing?” Danny complained. “But you guys love gho-”

Maddie held up a hand. “-and we certainly don’t want to squash your interests, but it is dangerous. Being out on your own isn’t safe.”

“I have Sam and Tucker!”

“Who are little more responsible than you are,” she said. “Danny-”

Danny bounded to his feet, offended by the implication that the three of them couldn’t handle themselves. They’d done perfectly fine the last two years. “Jazz isn’t even two years older than me. You trusted her to watch me, but not me to watch myself?”

“Jazz is significantly more reasonable and responsible than you are, and you know that.”

“Dad,” Danny turned to his father, who had stayed remarkably quiet. “You agreed with this?”

The man opened his mouth, but closed it again.

“Danny,” his mother said, coming over and pulling him into a hug. “Sweetie. Calm down a bit. You’re reading more into this than there is.” 

Danny held still, feeling her warmth against his back. He let out a short breath. 

“It’s a couple hours a week - you’ll be paid, of course - and a plan to keep tabs on what you’re doing a bit better.” Her voice was quiet in his ear. “And yes, perhaps a few more chores.”

“You don’t need to keep better tabs on me-” Danny protested.

She turned him around by his shoulders, her nose inches from his. “Danny, I should have been keeping better tabs on you for years,” she whispered. “It never should have been Jazz’s job.”

Danny pulled away from her a bit, eyeing her suspiciously. This didn’t sound like her at all. His parents believed in independence and scientific discovery and whatnot. Based on a solid sixteen years of evidence, his parents certainly didn’t believe in… parenting. She wasn’t possessed - he’d know. And she didn’t even have an echo of having been possessed. “Who got into your head?” he asked. “You were perfectly fine with it being Jazz’s job yesterday.”

“Jazz and I talked-”

“Of course,” Danny muttered, dropping down onto the couch. His sister had followed him home after all. No doubt this whole conversation was her idea. It certainly helped explain why it was happening so soon after they got home.

“She’s right, Danny,” his father cut in. “Jazz did have a point.”

Danny shot the man an unhappy look. He rubbed a hand over his face. “So what does this mean?”

“I was getting to it,” Maddie said, sitting back down herself and taking a deep breath. “You’re going to work a few hours a week with us-” she gestured to herself and Jack, “like I said, mostly on the weekends. Think of the benefits, Danny. You’ll make a little money, you’ll know a bit more about the science of ghost hunting, and the finances of our business-”

“I don’t want to know the finances of your business,” Danny interrupted. “I’m not part of your business.” 

Maddie hesitated a moment. “Sweetie…”

“Mom…” he parroted back.

“You… I…” she seemed uncertain of what to say.

Danny pressed his advantage. His parents hated having these parenting moments. They were never comfortable with it. Over the years, he and Jazz had perfected the art of sidetracking them. “Look, I get the point of this. I’ll help you guys out a bit on the weekends, and I’ll keep you more informed of what I’m doing, right? I promise. Can I go?”

“No.” She straightened her shoulders. “Danny, we need to start being realistic.”

Danny was already half off the couch. He paused, startled. Normally his parents would have taken the out he’d given them, and everyone would have left the meeting happy that they had gotten their point across and nothing would have actually changed. That was the pattern. “Realistic?” he asked.

“It shouldn’t have taken Jazz sitting me down and pointedly saying so, but it did.” His mother sighed. “It shouldn’t have taken this long for me to decide to be a parent, but it did.”

Danny blinked, and glanced over at his father. Jack looked uncomfortable, but he wasn’t leaving. In fact, he looked like he was ready to back up Maddie. 

She continued. “We can’t keep pretending that the future is a long ways away. We can’t keep pretending that the future will just be normal for you. Certain accommodations will need to happen-”

Danny didn’t like the way this conversation was going. 

“-and it just is what it is. Your father and I have to be more involved with what you are doing, to help you stay safe and to start to understand how best to help you. And you’re going to be more involved with what we are doing, to start opening some future paths for you.”

“I already have a future path,” Danny said. “I’m going to college, maybe astronomy or something. None of my future paths involve working for you guys on the weekends.” He shook his head. “I don’t mind it - having a bit more money sounds good and all - but I don’t need to. I could get a job somewhere else too. The Nasty Burger is hiring.”

“And how long would you stay employed?” Maddie asked. “You disappear all the time.”

Danny hesitated. “There’s lots of jobs… but I already said I’d work for you guys on the weekends, right?”

“I’m talking longer term, Sweetie,” she sighed. “You’re only making it through school by the skin of your teeth as it is, with Sam and Tucker basically teaching you what you missed after school. How do you think college will go?”

“I’m not in college yet,” Danny shot back. “So why are we worrying about it?”

“Danny…” she trailed off. 

“What?” he asked after the silence stretched on for almost a minute.

She pressed her eyes closed and rubbed at her face. “Let’s… let’s just deal with today. You’re going to start working with us. We’re going to set up a plan to keep better tabs on you.”

“I already agreed to that. Can I go now?” Danny asked.

For a moment, Danny thought his mother would go with it. She looked tired of the conversation. “No. We need an actual plan. One we’ll actually follow. We all know what will happen if we don’t.”

Danny gritted his teeth. He’d been counting on the lack of follow through. “Like what?” he asked. “You want me to text you? Call you?”

“Yes, that’d be a good start,” she said. “Not Sam or Tucker either - you. And two extra hours of unpaid work each time you forget.”

“But sometimes-”

“You, Sweetie. If there’s ever a time when it’s so important you can’t text me, then the two hours of unpaid work would be worth it, right?”

Danny scowled at her. “Why? Why does it have to be me? Why is that so important?”

“Because,” she said, frustratingly not giving an answer. 

“Can I go now, then?”

She let a breath out through her nose. “Fine. Repeat back what you’re going to be doing and you can go.”

“I’m going to text you when there’s a ghost. And I’m going to work a bit for you on the weekends.” Danny got up from the couch. “Can I go now?”

She nodded. 

Danny shot a glance at his father, who nodded as well, and Danny took the opportunity to escape up the stairs, desperate to get away from this conversation.

“You were a big help,” he heard his mother say sarcastically behind him. Danny hesitated at the top step, glancing back. “And Jazz was right. He doesn’t understand at all, does he?”

“And we didn’t even update the chore poster,” his father added.

“Enough with the chores, Jack,” she said. “This is bigger than chores. How could we have missed this?” There was a loud sigh. “What sort of rotten parents are we?”

[coleyholts]

Trigger Warning: Depression **I AM NOT A SELF-HARM RISK**

I have become two people.  

That’s kind of a weird concept to fully grasp.  What do you mean two people?  This post is dedicated to my damaged self, who needs to realize that becoming one with my rational self is a goal we can all look forward to achieving.  Also, to the people that love me, here’s a look into where I’m at right now with guilt.

Here’s the thing.  RATIONAL SELF

I’m a smart, experienced woman with years of childcare under my belt. I am completely confident in my marriage, knowing loyalty, fidelity, and support will never be an issue.  I actually enjoy my job and being around my coworkers.  I have the greatest friends anyone could ever ask for that have stuck by my side for decades.  My parents adore me and want me to be happy.  My siblings and in-laws are my best friends that always make me proud.  I love spending my time doing art. I’m social, approachable, and confident.  I am a great mother. Oh, and I’m HILARIOUS.

But here’s the OTHER thing.  DAMAGED SELF

I’m depressed and feeling guilty and so much regret.  I want to stay in my house and do nothing because it doesn’t really make a difference if I attend events.  No one misses me at stuff like that.  Asking for help is a huge inconvenience to the others. Asking for alone time makes me feel guilty, so I tend to never ask.  I’m scared something is going to happen to my baby as a result of the accident-something that creeps up out of nowhere like some random, preventable hemorrhage or something.  I don’t deserve Natasha.  I had my chance and failed.  Daniel should resent me.

As an intro to this elaboration here, I want to just briefly touch on the fact that PTSD, depression, and like conditions will all bring on good days and bad days.  What I am describing are short spans of time (minutes, usually) where my “two selves” are arguing over how shitty I am.  This is not a bad day.  This is just any day, anytime, anywhere.

I left work early on Friday.  My back has been out all of August and I have some nerve damage, which I will end up writing about eventually, that tends to make my healing process suuuuper slow.  Even more challenging, I have a 20+ pound baby beauty that loves seeing how fast she can crawl towards things she shouldn’t. SPOILER ALERT: ...it’s pretty fast. *eye roll*

I was about five minutes from home when I just had this random, hateful thought.  

I hurt my own feelings. I made myself sad.

I have been pushing it off when people I trust have asked me (very lovingly and at appropriate times) if I was sure I wasn’t feeling guilty.  And, I was sure.  My “normal” self, the one that presents to people when I am not a pot of anxiety or in physical pain is RATIONAL.  

So RATIONAL Nicole (hereon referred to as “I/me”) knows that statistically speaking, most babies are going to fall off of something at some point before they reach the 12-month milestone, whether it be the couch, out of a swing, out of bed, etc.  They are resilient. They experience injury and they learn. I denied the feelings of guilt because I was able to suppress them with knowledge of anything and everything I could find relating to what took place that day; anything I could store in my brain that would serve as concrete evidence that this wasn’t my fault and that I can forgive myself.

DAMAGED Nicole (hereon referred to as “the voice”) is a paranoid jerk with no faith in me.  This in-house antagonist decides to remind me of what happened, quite often focusing on the fact that I caused it.  I put her on the bed.  I laid with her. I let her rest beside me instead of in my arms because she was a little sweaty.  I fell asleep.  She rolled across and over onto the floor, while in MY care.  I had one job:  Keep her alive and healthy... The voice will not let me forget it.  

I am not hearing the stereotypical, personality disorder kind of voices. This is my conscience, a one on one with myself.  This is how trauma has made me perceive myself, and when I make progress, that voice, MY voice, is telling me everything on a list, thought up by ME of “Reasons as to Why I Still Hate Myself.” **Note for emphasis: I DO NOT WANT TO DIE. THIS IS NOT A CRY FOR HELP.  JUST LISTEN <3 **

It’s when the silent back and forth begins between the voice and I that I’m transported back to a swampy wasteland of sorrow over the fact that I “just should’ve put her in her crib.”  The air is thick there, and has a flavor of burnt.  Taking it in is what one would imagine inhaling flavorless, vapory gravy mixed with a heap of soot feels like. It feels dry and my throat burns. There is a heaviness in my lungs and chest as my heartrate increases.  I try to keep my breathing steady, reminding myself, “it’s just one of these.” But then the voice hits me with a reaaaaaally low blow.

“You killed your baby.”

...Listen to me when I tell you it made me SICK to hear those words together, directed at me, formulated in my own damn mind.  My therapist says to try to remember to counter thoughts like these with realistic affirmations about myself, Natasha’s full recovery, the strength my marriage has gained... But the voice is mean.

The reason I have not been able to let go of the guilt is because my rational mind doesn’t argue after enough of a beatdown that I run out of answers.  

Why couldn’t they find her heatbeat? Because she was bleeding in her skull.  Why was she bleeding? She fell off of the bed.  Why did she fall off of the bed? Well....

Thinking with only your rational mind is like a math problem: a= Natasha sleeping b= me putting her in her crib c= me bringing her into my bed d= Natasha falling.

a+b=a & a+c=d.

What was the difference? ME. Situation-me=happy, rested baby. 

MY choice is what physically put her in a place where she could fall.  This is so hard for people to understand.  “Well, she's okay now” truly is not enough. With all of the support I have been experiencing, I’ve been served my fair share of phrases like that, and I want to be pissed, but I’m just thankful that none of the people I love have the frame of reference to fully get it.  

I don’t want you to know this pain.  I want you to help me through it.  

So to wrap it up, I am living my life with little battles in my head all day.  In therapy, I am working on getting these two sides of myself better acquainted, hoping the bravery I have gained from all of the crap my family and I have been through together can be worth something.

I deserve my baby.  I’m a great mother.  I am her calm, and she is safe with me.

I will get through this.  100%.

Just wish it wasn’t going to take so long.

[missmentelle]

What exactly do i tell someone who is suicidal but does not want to die (eg wishes they didnt exist but doesnt want to die,has no plans on how they'll die, wtc)? Are they still technically suicidal? Do I tell them to call a hotline? What even do I say at all?

Anyone who expresses any kind of suicidal intent, no matter how mild (including “I would never actually do anything to harm myself in a million years, but I sort of wish I didn’t exist anymore”) is still considered suicidal, and they can absolutely seek help from a suicide hotline. When we are evaluating suicide risk, we start by seeing if the person has any desire to not be here anymore - whether that’s “I want to kill myself” or “I sort of wish I’d just never been born” - and then look for higher-risk warning signs from there. For the record, warning signs that might indicate a person is “moderate” or “high” risk for suicide include some of the following:

Knowing what method they would use to end their lives

Having access to a method of suicide, especially a firearm

Having a time frame for when they want to attempt suicide

Having a detailed plan for suicide

Having made at least one past suicide attempt, even if it was aborted before they actually harmed themselves

Having a diagnosed mental health condition 

Current or past issues with substance abuse

Current or past self-harm, self-injury or intentionally reckless behavior

A family history of suicide

The loss of a friend or loved one to suicide

A recent major life stress, even if it is “positive” - new job, move, end of a relationship, etc.

A recent change in their mental health treatment regime - discharge from hospital, new medication, change of therapist, etc.

Whether someone is at low, moderate or high risk for suicide, the steps for supporting them are more or less the same. Some of the things you can try are:

Encourage them to call a suicide hotline. Suicide hotlines are there as resources for anyone who is toying with thoughts of suicide, even if they feel confident that they would not act on those thoughts. Wanting to stop existing is a sign that you are in pain, and even if your life does not appear to be in imminent danger, it is still appropriate to seek help to cope with that pain in a healthy way. Hotlines are a free and anonymous resource that are available to anyone, and they can be a good starting point. 

Call a suicide hotline yourself, and ask for assistance in supporting your friend. Suicide hotlines receive many, many calls from overwhelmed family and friends asking for assistance in supporting a suicidal loved one, and volunteers receive training in how to assist these callers. They can teach you how to talk to your friend about suicide, point you to some resources, and teach you how to manage your own feelings of helplessness or panic that sometimes come with trying to support a struggling friend. 

Encourage your friend to make a suicide safety plan. You can look online for templates for suicide safety plans, but you don’t necessarily need a fancy template to make one - a simple plan can be just as effective. Basically, making a suicide safety plan involves coming up with a list of things that trigger possible depressive episodes (could include small things, like ‘didn’t get enough sleep the night before’ or big things, like ‘end of a relationship I cared about’). You then want to identify signs that the person is potentially in danger (could be as simple as ‘I start thinking about suicide’ or things like ‘I stop answering my friends’ texts’). Finally, and most importantly, come up with a list of steps that your friend can do to keep themselves safe when they are having suicidal thoughts. This might mean contacting someone (they should create a list of who to contact, with backups in case people don’t answer) or it could mean distracting themselves with TV, a hobby, exercise, etc. They should have enough possible steps laid out on their plan that they will always have at least one effective thing they can do to get them through their rough patches. 

Reiterate that you care about them. It’s okay to just be honest and say “Look, I’m not really sure if there’s anything I can say to make you feel better, but I want you to know that I really care about you and I am here to support you as best I can”. You don’t need to be a trained therapist providing formal mental health counselling here - that’s not what your loved ones expect from you. Just reminding someone that you care about them and that you’re going to do your best to be there for them can mean a lot more than you think. 

Ask your friend what they need. It’s okay to ask your friend directly if it would be more helpful for you to offer advice, or if they just want you to listen to them while they talk about their problems. They may not know exactly what they need, and that’s alright too - the two of you can try to figure it out together. Communicate openly, give them possible suggestions for ways that you can support them, and again, be open about the fact that you’re willing to try to support them in whatever way they feel they need. 

Offer them distractions. Sometimes, people turn to their friends and family when they are suicidal because they want to be distracted from their pain, and not because they want to have an in-depth conversation about all the things that suck in their life. If your friend doesn’t seem to want to talk about what’s going on in great depth, sometimes the most helpful thing you can do is just say “Would it make you feel better if we got some junk food and watched a marathon of your favourite TV show?” Offering to just be with someone and distract them with pleasant things can be more helpful than you realize. 

Acknowledge their pain, and be cautious with optimism. It can be really, really tempting to just bombard a suicidal or depressed person with as much optimism as you possibly can - everything will be fine! You can get through this! It’s always darkest before the dawn! People mean well by doing this, but it comes across as dismissive and disingenuous - it makes people feel that their pain makes people uncomfortable and that they should stop talking about it. Instead, just acknowledge that the other person is in pain and that their situation absolutely sucks right now. Listen to what they say, and let them know that you are hearing them. It’s a simple thing, but it can make a huge difference. It’s okay to provide support and express optimism, but it’s important to be careful about how you do it - instead of “Everything will be fine”, the person might feel a lot more heard if you say “I know everything is not okay right now, and I don’t know when things will start to get better, but I hope that they do and I will be here for you while we wait for that to happen”. 

Stay aware and check in on them regularly. Your friend might be in a place right now where they say they would never hurt themselves, but that can change, and it’s important to check in on them if you feel that their mental health is starting to slide. You don’t need to appoint yourself as their babysitter - their safety is ultimately their responsibility, not yours, and you are not their keeper - but it’s a good idea to just stay aware. If they are not answering messages, or if they haven’t been online in a while, or if they just seem “off” somehow, reach out to them and ask what’s up. If you can’t reach them when you usually can, network with other people in their life to make sure someone has seen them. If you know an important date or event is coming up that could potentially cause them a lot of stress, reach out before, during and after to offer your support. Take care of yourself. Trying to help a very depressed person as a loved one can be exhausting, and it’s important that you don’t also burn yourself out. Try to avoid shouldering too much responsibility here - it’s great to check in and offer support and do what you can, but you ultimately cannot force someone to get help if they don’t want it, and that isn’t your job. It’s okay to take time for yourself, and it’s okay to focus on your other relationships while you are helping this person. Have realistic expectations - this is not a problem that you can fix for someone else. You are there to hold their hand while they go through something painful and remind them that they are loved and cared for, even if it doesn’t always feel like it. Best of luck to you and your friend. Miss Mentelle

[lutrain2020]

Meet the Creator!

Introducing: Aprici / Soybean or Lili!

Commission:  I don't do commissions because I don't have a way to transfer payment, but I do take requests.

Social Media: AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Japo_Chan23

Tell us a little bit about you!

My name is Lili, but online I typically go by soybean or Aprici. My favorite color is blue/pink and I really enjoy playing video games and writing. Despite how long I've been writing, I've always dreamed of being a psychologist or therapist, so once I graduate high school I'm going to have a double major in psychology and social services. I might keep writing when I get older, but it would be more as a pass time than anything.

Is there someone who inspires you and your writing?

Barry Lyga and Neal Shusterman, for sure. They are both phenomenal writers and I want my style of writing to be similar to theirs because it just makes everything fit so well. Lyga, in his I Hunt Killers trilogy, was able to capture suspense perfectly and had very good pacing, and Shusterman was able to tell a great story with diverse and well thought out characters. I aspire to be able to write things that are well paced and have fully thought out characters one day. Lyga and Shusterman were the main reasons why I started writing again after I dropped it for a few years.  

What got you into writing?

I was looking at fanart of Gravity Falls on Deviantart and I found this one fanfiction and it just seemed really interesting so I read it. It then led me to fanfiction.net and then I decided that "why don't I wrote my own fanfiction?". So I did, and this was when I was in 5th grade so it was REALLY bad haha, but I ended up reading a lot in middle school and got a better grasp on storytelling and overall just how to write. I was writing constantly during middle school, and I got better once I entered high school.

What's your favorite part of the writing process?

Oh boy, I don't really have a writing process, so I just lack any outline whatsoever.  Sometimes I just get struck with some idea to write a story and then I'd go and do a livewrite immediately without a plan in mind. It makes me happy when I just start writing and then I don't stop. I like the ideas I get out of nowhere and then having the ability to execute that ability it just my favorite.

What's your least favorite part of the writing process?

I absolutely HATE editing and just rereading everything. When I think about what I'm going to write I end up losing the inspiration to actually write what I wanted, or if I do write it it just lacks the emotion or detail that I had originally wanted. It just doesn't work with me if I write something that I actually thought out. In the fanfiction I'm writing right now, "Pick Your Poison, Love" I was originally gonna just have it be like five chapters, but on the third chapter I was like, "hey, how interesting would it be if I just killed a character and made a murder mystery of sorts and then that's how the characters become closer?". I hate making a plan or thinking about what should come next. It ruins my flow, so whenever I decide to make a plan or something, everything I write ends up losing the love that I have for what I was writing because it just doesn't turn out like how I expected.

Whats your favorite type of scene to write?

I looooove writing characters bonding. It comes easily to me. I also love writing scenes of just detailing the world around you or the actions a character is doing. It just comes easily for me.

What's the hardest for you to write?

Fight scenes, anything super extreme, and adult content. I just struggled with writing the simple details that come with it. It's hard for me to write because if you miss one detail everything falls apart and it doesn't turn out well whatsoever. I'm very inexperienced in these areas because I just lack the detail in writing it out. It just comes out bad and bland.

What's your favorite genre to write?

I like to write a general hurt/comfort kind of thing, or something modern/realistic. I like the balance between fluff and angst. I never really enjoyed writing full on angst because I just lack the motivation to write someone getting hurt and then just not having support, and sometimes fluff is hard to write as well if it's just too much, you know? I just want to write something the embodies both elements of angst and fluff.

What fandoms do you enjoy writing for?

Right now I've mainly been writing for Legend of Zelda, hence why I'm doing this train. I used to write for a multitude of others fandom that I soon dropped. I've only wrote for Legend of Zelda right now, but I enjoy writing Twilight the most. He's just simple and I like writing him with Midna.Twilight Princess was one of my first Zelda games, so once I replayed it I just fell in love with the character again. The Linked Universe fandom is also really sweet and I love talking to everyone in the discord! I really appreciate everyone there because they all have so many ideas and they're all so creative, and I love just hearing what other people have to say about it. I used to write for Marvel a lot (specifically some Spiderman stuff), but I haven't recently, but I really like writing Peter Parker because it just came easily to me. Peter's a nerd who went through a lot of grief, and after my grandmother died I projected a lot onto him and wrote a lot of stuff relating to him and Gwen Stacy or Harry Osborn because it just came easily to me.

What's the work you are most proud of?

I wrote this fanfiction recently called Sunkissed (https://archiveofourown.org/works/24318283) and I ADORE it. I love it so much, it was fluff, but it wasn't too much, and I added some humor to it as well. It was just all the boys having fun and acting like a family and it just made me happy to write because the scene at the end where they're all playing in the river is literally just how I act with my friends sometimes. I just like this piece a lot because it just gives me a warm feeling. I'm also super proud of called It's Complicated (https://archiveofourown.org/works/14798700) which is based on Peter Parker trying to make amends with Harry Osborn. I really like it because I feel like this was the one time I was able to really capture who these characters are and it just had a good balance of emotions that these two had over everything that happened between them.

Is there a specific scene you are particularly proud of?

There's this one scene in Pick Your Poison, Love when Midna and Twilight are about to go and meet Dead Hand that I'm fond/proud of because it just seemed like, such a Midna thing to do. Cause Twilight fell from a ladder and instead of catching him she just let him fall. They just met so I tried to make her act more like how she did when you first meet her in Twilight Princess. Also I'm proud of the opening scene I had for Secret Agent W, when they all met Wolfie for the first time. I really enjoy that scene and I find it funny, even though I wasn't really intending there to be too many in your face jokes, you know?

Is there something you had to work through that forced you to grow as a writer?

I had to go through some things in real life relating to my family and my relationships, but going through everything made me grow as a person, which then impacted my writing as well. Growing as a writer was hard because a bunch of my super old works were REALLY bad, but it was just the act of writing them continually that helped me grow as a writer. I know what I was writing was bad, but I did it anyways because I liked it. I became a better writer when I got older because of how often I was writing.

Do you have any fics inspired by real life stories?

I wrote this one story that was just making a bunch of metaphors, but I just included this one scene I was asking this guy, Rick, if Italy was pretty when he went there and when he said it was beautiful and I was almost in tears haha. I include a lot of moments from my life. In Sunkissed, at the end when Warriors and Twilight are throwing Wind back and forth towards the other, that was what my brother and my dad did to me when we were in Florida! We were in a pool at night and they were just chucking me back and forth! It a memory I'm really fond of. There might be a bunch of references here and there in any of my stories that have happened in my life, but I can't think of any off the top of my head, and I have like 45 works posted on my ao3, so I don't really want to go check, haha.

Where do you post your finished works?

https://archiveofourown.org/users/Japo_Chan23

[alexisthedevilsfox]

Just a friend

Hi ^-^ One day, while I was enjoying a peaceful life, I heard a song that gave me an idea for a scene that I had to write immediately. 

Well... then I had that one scene but that was it.

But when @lace-maze and I talked about it, we both had some ideas, so now I have the whole story. 

Fandom: Jacksepticeye

Pairing: Schneeplebro (Chase and Henrik)

Summary:  Just a friend. That's what Chase is for Henrik, but... he wants to be more... so much more.

Warning: There is angst but don't worry, it has a happy ending. In fact, I would describe it with a sentence from Harry Potter: You're gonna suffer, but you're gonna be happy about it.

Oh also... Big thank you to Lace for being my beta and my partner in crime xD

Just a friend

Chase was a happy person. He really was. After he stopped drinking, found a therapist, and settled things with Stacy, his life began to feel more like... well, life. He could see all the mistakes he had made, but he learned to face them and solve his problems. Or at least he tried to solve them if he could. 

The green haired man also learned that he could ask his friends for help. There was always someone who was willing to help him, most of the time Henrik. The doctor was a big help and Chase had no idea what he would do without him.

The problem was that Henrik ... was the source of his sadness lately. 

They were friends for so long, that it took him two years after his divorce with Stacy to realize that he loved him as more than just a friend. But then he also realized that he probably didn't stand a chance with Henrik. Chase was a realist in this. Who would want such an emotional mess as he was? Especially Henrik, who was so damn smart, handsome and a doctor.

He was the dream of every mother who wanted to marry their daughter to a doctor. Well, actually… who wanted to marry their daughter in general.

Chase, on the other hand, was just a regular guy who liked to make stupid jokes and watch cartoons. He was nothing special, so he decided that even though he loved Henrik, he wouldn't tell him. Chase didn't want to ruin their friendship, and he was sure it would be enough for him to be Henrik's best friend.

Well... after a few months, he realized he was wrong.

Almost every time they were outside, for example for dinner or coffee, there was someone who came to them and told them that they made such a cute couple or asked them how long they had been together and he then had to listen to Henrik say quickly that they were just friends. It was as if Henrik was practicing the answer because he always told it almost the same way, without the slightest hesitation. 

At first it was fine, they even joked together that they would definitely be the perfect couple. That they would even surpass Marvin and Jackie. It was funny and he laughed at the idea of them being that picture perfect family with white picket fence and maybe a dog. 

But after a while, it stopped being funny. It started to hurt him every time he heard Henrik say, "Oh no, he's just my best friend." 

He realized that he actually wanted them to be that perfect family. It would be so easy.

His children loved Henrik, even jokingly calling him their second dad and Henrik's children called Chase "dadcle", the cutest combo of 'dad' and 'uncle' merged together. He loved them for it. It was so sweet to call him that and he would be happy to be their actual stepdad. He also knew that if he wanted it to become a reality, all he had to do was tell Henrik how he felt, but it was so fucking hard. Every time he had the words on his tongue, Henrik said the damn word starting with F, Chase just lost his courage or both options at once.

Unfortunately, this was not all. 

To make matters worse, Henrik started going out with a woman. According to what the doctor told him, her name was Grace and she was a nurse, working in the children's ward and Henrik spoke very nicely about her.

When Chase saw her for the first time, he almost cried. Her bright blue eyes looked at Henrik with love and she looked like a kind woman. 

That day he felt as if someone had ripped his heart out. Even Henrik noticed that something was really wrong and asked him what's going on. But Chase dismissed him, saying that he was just not feeling well and that he's going home. He didn't want to ruin it for Henrik, because he deserved to be happy, even if it was with someone else. Even so, it didn't change the fact that it hurt like hell. 

Because of Grace and also because of his own mental health, he began to distance himself from Henrik. He just couldn't handle being so close to him anymore. Especially when he knew that Henrik was already taken.

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

One afternoon his phone rang, Henrik's name on the screen. For a moment he considered not picking it up, but he hadn't spoken to Henrik in a long time, so at the last moment he answered.

“Hi, Hen. What’s up?” he asked.

“Hello, Chase.” Henrik's slightly deeper voice came from the phone. “I've been thinking... we haven't seen each other in a long time, so what if I came to your apartment? If you have time, that is.” the doctor said.

“Uhm…” Chase had no idea what to say. He really wanted to see him but he wasn't sure if it was a good idea.

“I'll bring food. How about your favourite, Hawaiian pizza?” Henrik continued.

“But... you hate pineapple on pizza.” the green haired man mumbled.

“Yes, but I like you so I’m willing to eat that monstrosity with you.” a quiet laugh could be heard from the phone. Chase's heart skipped a beat.

“Awww… man, how did I deserve such a great sacrifice?” he asked.

“I've already said it, we haven't seen each other in a long time.” Henrik answered, and Chase was overwhelmed with guilt. It was his fault that they didn't see each other as often as before, because he couldn't deal with his own fucking feelings.

“Okay then, you can come.” the sad dad really wanted to see him again, and he wouldn't turn down the pizza either.

“Great. I'll go for the pizza and then to you. Want anything else? What if I brought donuts?” the enthusiasm in the doctor's voice was impossible to overhear, and Chase sighed.

“You missed me that much, huh?” how the hell does he have to forget how he feels about Henrik when the man does things like that?

“Yes, I did.” Henrik answered immediately, “but no more talking, bye for now and I'll see you in an hour.” he said and hung up. Chase stared at the phone for a moment, then set it down on the coffee table and looked around the living room. The room wasn't that messy, but it wasn't downright clean either, so he decided to clean up a bit. Thanks to that, he didn't even register how much time had passed and was interrupted only by the doorbell. Chase swallowed nervously and went to open the door.

Henrik looked as good as ever. Even in those worn out jeans and t-shirt, he looked like a treat.

“Hello, Chase.” the doctor smiled, a pizza box in his hands and on top of that a box from Krispy Kreme.

“Uhm… Hi. Come in.” Chase steps away from the door so Henrik can come inside. He was afraid it would be weird, but instead everything went back to normal.

They both settled in the living room and spent a good half hour arguing about what movie they should watch. When they finally decided which movie to play, they opened the pizza box and started to eat. They talked about their kids, their work and how they were doing. It was nice but then Henrik mentioned Grace.

“Uhm... how is she? How do you enjoy being in a relationship again?” Chase asked, though he didn't actually want to know.

“Oh we… we’re not together anymore.” Henrik replied. the green haired man blinked in confusion. He didn't expect Henrik to tell him they broke up.

“W… why?” he needed to know.

“Well, we realized that it doesn't work, we don't feel what we should have as a couple. Grace is more of a good friend than a girlfriend.” he shrugged. 

It seemed to Chase that Henrik didn't really mind, but he still said, “I'm sorry it turned out that way.” because what else was he supposed to say? Chase wasn't sorry at all, but that would be really rude to say, “Can I… help you somehow? Do you wanna… Get well soon card?” he joked, and Henrik rewarded him with a snort.

“No, you're helping me now. By the way, thank you for that.” the doctor smiled, “It would be easier if I could find someone as funny and kind as you.” he added, and Chase suddenly lost his words.

“I uhm… Thanks?” He replied stiffly. ‘Say it you loser. Say… Date me then.’ Chase tried to convince himself to say it out loud.

“I mean it. Who wouldn't want to date you?” Chase heard what Henrik was saying, but he still couldn't bring himself to say the words he wanted, his throat tightening with anxiety and Henrik continued, “You’re a great guy, Chase and I’m really happy that you’re my best friend.”

After these words, something snapped in Chase. The anxiety disappeared and was replaced by anger. There was that fucking word again.

Best friend.

Only a best friend.

“Yeah... best friend. That’s what I am.” he said bitterly. Henrik's blue-gray eyes looked at him with surprise.

“Did I say something wrong?” the doctor asked.

“Nothing! You didn't say anything wrong.” the green haired man snapped. He desperately needed to move, he couldn't just sit there, so he got up from the couch and started pacing back and forth through the living room. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that Henrik got up too.

“Clearly, I had to say something because you're angry now. What's wrong?” there was confusion and guilt in the doctor's eyes, and Chase felt terrible, which for some reason fueled his anger even more.

“Nothing is fucking wrong, okay!?” Chase shouted, hands clenched into a fist, “Just… just go home Henrik. I… I can’t talk with you right now.” he tried to say calmly, body still shaking with anger.

“Chase, we haven't talked in a long time and now that something is obviously wrong and it looks like my fault, you don't even want to talk to me? Seriously, what’s wrong? Please, we’re friends. We can figure it out.” Henrik tried to speak softly and calmly, hoping Chase would calm down.

“Friends, huh?! Well, there’s some fucking news for you. I don’t wanna be your friend anymore!” the words fell out of his mouth too easily. Powered by anger and desperation, followed by a complete shock of what he said. Blue-gray eyes stared at him in stunned disbelief. Uncomfortable silence spread between them and the only thing Chase could hear was his own heart pounding in his ears.

“Well then… if that's what you want, then so be it” the doctor managed in a trembling voice. Chase could hear the pain in his voice but he was so shocked by his own words that his brain couldn't form a response, much less get it out of his mouth.

“Goodbye, Chase.” Henrik said as he turned to leave the room.

That finally forced Chase to act. He grabbed Henrik's hand and squeezed it tightly. “Please, wait! Don’t go,” the green haired man had no idea what he was going to do.

“What? What more do you want from me?!” Henrik looked at him and freed his hand from his grip.

“I wanna… I didn’t… I didn't mean it that way.” Chase mumbled.

“How did you mean it then?” Blue-gray eyes watched him with intensity and Chase gulped.

“I… I can’t tell you.” He tried.

“Either tell me or I'm leaving and I guarantee you we won't see each other for a long time!” The doctor said, anger slowly overtaking him. Chase looked at him desperately, his eyes filled with tears. The silence around them was almost unbearable, bright blue eyes staring into the blue-gray ones. Then Henrik shook his head and turned again to leave.

“I love you!” Chase blurted out immediately, afraid Henrik would leave, “I love you so much it hurts and I… I can’t take it anymore. I think about you almost every single day and I know I’m just a pathetic loser, but that doesn't change the fact that all I want is to wake up next to you every morning and fall asleep next to you every night.” Chase completed his monologue with ragged breath, keeping his gaze on the floor while tears ran down his face. 

Silence filled the room again, but Chase couldn't stand it for long, so he started talking again.

“I’m s-sorry, Henrik. I… I know I ruined e-everything but I can’t get rid of it. I tried but… I just love you so much,” he sobbed “and I'm probably not… not your best friend a-anymore and it’s my… my fault,” finally he raised his head and looked at Henrik. The doctor looked shocked and still didn't say a word.

“Please Hen, say something... Anything. Please.” he looked at him desperately, tears still streaming down his cheeks.

“Say it again.” Henrik suddenly spoke and moved closer to him.

“Wha...what?” came the shaky question.

“Say you love me.” Henrik reached out and wiped away his tears with his thumb. A shiver passed through Chase's body.

“I… I love you.” he said it much more quietly now, voice trembling. Bright blue eyes watched a small smile appear on Henrik's face.

“I love you too.” Henrik replied softly.

“You… you do?” the disbelief in his voice could be clearly heard.

“Yes.” a simple answer followed by Henrikd’s hands, which took his face, pulled him as close as possible and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. Chase squeaked in surprise but as soon as Henrik began to pull away, he grabbed his shirt and pulled him back for another kiss.

“Please, tell me this is not a dream.” the anxious man begged between their shared breath. Neither of them seemed to want to stop any time soon.

“No, not a dream.” Henrik assured him as one of his hands moved to the man’s waist and the other to his hair, deepening the kisses. This was something they had both dreamed of for so long. It was almost surreal, but all the more beautiful. 

Eventually they broke apart, both trying to catch their breath.

“You really love me?” Chase asked, still unsure.

“Yes, I really love you and for quite some time actually.” he adjusted his glasses, which, thanks to their kissing, ended up crooked, “I was just too scared to ruin our friendship so I never said anything.” he added.

“Well, that would be both of us then.” the anxious man admitted and Henrik stifled a laugh.

“Good god, we’re idiots.” he sighed, and this time it was Chase who laughed.

“You know… at least we can be idiots together.” Chase said with hope.

“Oh, definitely. You won't get rid of me anymore, Mr. Brody.” he said, cupping Chase’s face and pecking a light kiss on the man’s lips.

Chase laughed into the kiss, “I didn't even plan to do that, Mr. Schneeplestein.”

“Good.” was his only answer, which they drowned in another of many kisses.

[norahastuff]

A little late watching this week’s episode but I was so impressed, I’m going to talk about it anyway. Fair warning, this got longer than I intended it to.

This is Us has a reputation as an overly treacly kind of show, and for the most part that couldn’t be further from the truth. It’s a smart nuanced portrait of flawed characters, the relationships between them and how the effects of trauma can reverberate throughout the years. However, there have been times where the show has leaned into that preconception many have of it as a sappy show and when I heard the concept for this episode, “What if Jack had lived?” I’m not going to lie, I thought the show was going to go down that road. I needn’t have worried - they know what they’re doing. 

No this wasn’t a tear jerking whitewashed episode about how great everything would have been if Jack never died, it was a deep dive into Randall, his anxieties and mental issues. The things he’s spent his whole suppressing and refusing to acknowledge. The Big 3 have all for so long blamed a lot of their problems on losing Jack, but for lack of a better way to phrase this, that was a convenient excuse. Obviously I’m not saying losing a parent is convenient or anything of course, but that it is understandable. It’s a concrete thing that you can point at and hold onto. A tangible reason for feeling bad, for things going wrong. You lose someone you love and it hurts. There’s no grey area there. To use a quote from Bojack Horseman “My mother is dead and everything is worse now.”

(Ironically in that case there was a lot of grey area but I won’t get into that in a This is Us post...but do yourself a favour and watch Free Churro - I’ve never gotten over that episode.)

It’s easy to understand the pain when it comes from losing your father. But what about if things are more complicated than that? That moment when the therapist - Pamela Adlon is such perfect casting by the way - calls bullshit on Randall’s Norman Rockwell style sanitised version of his life. Where he saves one father, solves his other father’s addiction problems and also cures his stomach cancer. No more Daddy issues means Randall would have no underlying issues to address (Crazy Ex Gf reference intended) and happy endings all around.

But that’s not how life works. Our pain and our issues tend to be a lot more complicated than that, and usually stem from many different factors. And for the most part, most of those factors are not under our control, and no matter how hard we try, they never will be. Not being able to accept that is and always has been Randall’s biggest problem. It’s frustrating as hell, but completely and utterly realistic that even though his therapist has pointed that out to him and he acknowledges that it may be true, he’s not going to change his entire sense of self overnight. One enlightening therapy session is not going to suddenly make him do a 180 on how he’s handled his thoughts and feelings his whole life.

So Randall does something very wrong. It’s wrong for Rebecca yes, but it’s also very much wrong for him. His therapist helps him to admit that he hasn’t addressed the resentment he still feels towards Rebecca. That while he made it seem like he’d moved on, he really just buried the pain he felt after that betrayal. He needs to talk to her about this. He should deal with these feelings with her.

We know what Randall should do. Dr. Leigh knows what he should do. Hell for a split second I think even Randall knows what he should do, but he doesn’t. He instead does what he’s been doing his whole life and clings tightly to the need to control things. Having an unpredictable confrontation with Rebecca where he has no idea if it would change things, make him feel any better at all or just destroy their relationship or...honestly I’m sure the many many possible roads a conversation about something so tangled and complicated, filled with love, lies, pain, good will and betrayal have all occurred to Randall. Hell he explores two of them in his what if? scenarios. Best case, he forgives her early, they remain close, he deduces she has Alzheimers early and saves her. Worst case, he resents her, falls out of her life and doesn’t return till her disease has progressed too far. Either way, it’s still about him and what he can do for her. It’s his job to fix it and he’s the only one who can.  Just like Jack he’s a black and white kind of guy, he doesn’t do well with the grey areas. 

So Randall decides not to talk to Rebecca about William. No instead he chooses to use these unresolved feelings to try and control the situation. It’s easier for him to wrap his mind around. And he can justify it by saying he’s doing it to save his mother’s life. But Randall you can’t control other people, and even if you can, even if you have the power to - like you do with Rebecca right now - you shouldn’t. 

It’s complicated. Randall’s doing the wrong thing but he somehow simultaneously has the right and wrong motivation and intentions. I understand that he wants to save her but also he wants to control the situation. He can’t let things just play out...he needs to be a driving force. Oh Randall, don’t you know what they say about the road to hell?

This was one of the best written episodes of the show, and yes it made me feel a lot of things frustration, pain, sadness and unease among them, but not because of bad or lazy storytelling - the opposite actually. It feels completely natural and almost inevitable but I will say I don’t think I’ve ever felt as uneasy and on edge watching this show as I did when Randall started his phone call to Rebecca with “Mom I’ve been a good son” because you could tell exactly what Randall was about to do. Something he could never take back. But those last few seconds of the episode, I truly felt like my heart had dropped

Randall: I've been a good son, Mom. I've been a good son, and I've never asked you for anything. But I am asking you for this now. And I need you to say it. You are going to St. Louis. You are going to do this clinical trial.

Rebecca (Whispering): Okay. ( Shudders ) I will go to St. Louis, and I will do the trial.

This show man.

Couple of other things

- I just want to reiterate how much I love Pamela Adlon and how perfect she is as Dr. Leigh. Every moment was so good but to pick a random moment the one after Randall apologises for insulting her “cheap” shoes she dismisses him saying “Oh please, I live for this stuff.” Adlon’s delivery was gold.

- Beth talking about Watchmen “It took six episodes, but it finally makes sense.” I’m sure there’s no meta relevance of that to this show at all...(spoiler alert: there is)

- Kevin. Goddamn Kevin and Randall have a lot to sort through. In Randall’s worst case scenario, Kevin was the perfect son. He went into the family business with Jack, he helped Rebecca with the cooking. Jack gives a toast at Kevin’s wedding and tells a story about Kevin when he was 11 years old. He’s the centre of the family, as becomes clear when he loses his patience with Randall avoiding any family get together. 

In Randall’s best case scenario, Jack gives a toast about 11 year old Randall at Randall’s wedding. Kevin doesn’t really play much of a part. In fact the only thing Randall really says to Kevin throughout the whole scenario is the very first line when Kevin asks if they lost everything in the fire 

“You’re lucky you weren’t there.”

There’s a lot to be said about how Randall’s relationship to Kevin is also mired in his control issues. For a while now, Kevin’s been the only one who Randall could go to when he was losing control, the only one he was able to let see him that way. They’ve grown a lot closer, have been there for each other and done a lot of work on their relationship. The things is, Kevin’s also done a lot of work on himself. Those underlying issues that Randall isn’t addressing, Kevin has been forcing himself to deal with his own for a while now. As a result Kevin has become a stable presence, a rock that Rebecca and the family can lean on and rely on right now. For so long that was Randall’s job. Unfairly or not, he was Rebecca’s rock, and losing that at a time like this, where he also might be losing Rebecca, it’s bringing to the surface a lot of the resentment Randall still feels towards Kevin.

“You’re lucky you weren’t there.”

I have more to say on this but I’m going to wait and see where the finale is going to leave them. Plus this post is already way too long. 

This episode really got to me.

[meetthefantasticmrfox]

The Librarians Chapter 2

Holy mushrooms this took off quick. Special thanks to all of you who have liked and reblogged, even to my first follower! This really made my day!

Anyways! uhm Chapter 1 is here...

The Librarians Chapter 1

Hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it and if you have gone and read my other posts this is not the story I was talking about in my Intellectual Genius post, that one I am still writing and haven’t really found time in my surprisingly busy day. 

Have fun and here are some warnings and other do-dads!

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Summary: Jeremy has ended up in the hospital, somewhere he cannot afford finacially to be and his employee Logan Constell has been running the library between very frequent visits to his sickbed along with Jeremy’s parents and little brother.

Pairings: Loceit, and Parental Remile.

Warnings: Swearing, hospital scenes, mentions of sexual abuse and alcohol, very angsty chapter this one, and just let me know if I need to add.

Alternate Universes/Headcannons: Human Au, Vitiligo Headcannon for Janus, Sibling Headcannon for Virgil & Janus

Janus=Jeremy for you first time readers

Virgil=Victor (middle name is Virgilius or Virgil so he goes by that)

Enjoy!

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The last thing Jeremy remembered was falling from that ladder and the sunset following him down to a sure injury. He didn’t know if Logan’s confession had made him fall or the distraction of the sun in his eyes but whatever had caused it had led him to cause nerve damage in his left leg.

“You’ll need extensive physical therapy and a brace with crutches, maybe even a wheel-chair for a while afterwards.” That’s what the doctors had told him at least. Nothing about any heart or bodily problems other than his leg unfortunately. 

“The bills are far too high for anyone with your lifestyle and salary to afford.” Logan said in one of his visits. Jeremy hadn’t said a single thing to him out of all the week he had visited. He was aware he wouldn’t be able to afford his therapy or medical care and the thought of being a crippled on the streets of Florida seemed to have paralyzed his tongue along with his leg for the time being. Jeremy hadn’t been able to move it even a centimetre in over thirty-six hours which wasn’t exactly a good sign according to the doctors. Now it was seventy-two hours which was even more concerning. So concerning that Jeremy hadn’t even really slept the past few nights.

“I...I’m sorry for what happened with the ladder.” Logan said pointlessly.

“I knew better.” Jeremy said in response quickly, despite the dried lips and hoarse vocal cords for not have spoken in over three days.

“Pardon me?” Logan was shocked to have heard him speak.

“I. Knew. Better.” Jeremy repeated slowly and louder. Logan stayed quiet this time having sensed a sharper tone in his employers voice. 

The two sat there in silence for several minuets before something miraculous happened. The door opened and instead of a doctor walking in a man with summer green eyes and hair in a sand colored over coat with a cotton candy pink undershirt and glasses. He wore equally sand colored pants and sleek black shoes. In followed another man with pitch black hair and eyes like the night sky wearing a simple white shirt and leather jacket with dark jeans and tennis shoes. The man in black had smooth milk chocolate skin much like Jeremy.

“Oh my!” The man in tan had a higher pitched voice than Logan had expected and he had covered his mouth as soon as he saw Jeremy. His face paled just the slightest bit and tears began to coat his green irises.

“Em, calm down the doctors said he was fine for the most part.” The man with the night-like eyes muttered to the one named ‘Em’ and touched a broad hand to the other’s shoulder.

“That’s our boy Remy! How can you not be upset right now?!” Em looked at the other with a hint of anger in his teared eyes.

“Dads please don’t fight right now.” Jeremy snarled before the one named Remy could reply.

They both paused and stared at the librarian.

“Logan, meet my parents. Emile is trans and got surgery after having me. He’s a therapist for the recently traumatized and this is Remy, my birth father. He’s a businessman for a string of coffee shops known as Sleepy Time Teas and Wonderful Morning Coffees.” Jeremy sighed and gestured towards the two men. Emile shyly waved at the man sitting down while Remy barley gave him a single glance.

“Is he your...?” Before Emile could finish the question Jeremy cut him off abruptly.

“No, he works for me at Hawthorne.” 

“Oh, well it’s nice to meet you...uhm Logan was it?” Emile scooted over to shake hands with the intellectual who politely took the gesture.

“So what’d you do?” Remy said dully and waved a hand towards the non-moving leg.

“I fell.” Jeremy said simply and didn’t show signs of enjoying this visit.

“Y’know we’re your parents and you should show a little more respect with that voice of yours.” Remy snarled at his son. 

Jeremy just glared at Remy with such intensity flames might as well have burned in his dark green eyes.

“Remy calm down, he’s hurt and probably under a lot of stress with the library and the medical bills. He might never walk right again.” Emile hurriedly said before a fight broke out.

Logan checked his watch, sensing the building tension between Jeremy and his family. “Well I must go back to the library. My lunch break is nearly over.” and with that Logan rushed out. Jeremy would never admit he was kind of ashamed that his family feud drove his employee away.

Once Logan was gone the flood gates opened. Emile started truly crying and stifling it best he could while Remy fumed about how disrespectful Jeremy had always been.

This continued for a few minuets before Jeremy broke.

“JUST SHUT UP!” His voice stopped everything. Remy’s eyes widened in shock and Emile had jumped so hard he had stood up.

“I am PARALYZED in my bed and you are complaining on my TONE?! I have medical bills piling up to my neck while I have a salary of barely a thousand a year and you don’t even bother to ask me how I feel!” Jeremy lid off the sheets and moved best he could, dragging his numb leg with him as he attempted to stand. 

“Jeremy ju-” Emile started.

“Don’t get involved Emile. It’s about time he showed some backbone.” Remy snarled.

“No! Let him get involved. He’s the therapist for trauma and you’re just a coffee and tea maker!” Jeremy shot at him.

“Jeremy you shouldn’t speak to your father like that!” Emile hurriedly said before Remy could say anything. “And you shouldn’t be standing, for Christ sake sit back down you look like you’re about to faint!” 

“I’m fine.” Jeremy said through gritted teeth and just about that time there was a high pitched ring and Jeremy staggered and nearly fell but gripped the railing of his hospital bed. His numb leg drug on the ground and he looked down at it with the remainder of his vision before the door opened again and a doctor and nurse rushed in.

“Why is he standing?!” The doctor and nurse immediately gathered Jeremy and laid him back down on the bed as sleep claimed him again.

~ Time Skip ~

Logan came back a few days afterwards when Jeremy was supposed to start physical therapy. Apparently Emile and Remy had covered . Emile had sent Remy away and someone new had arrived. The new person was much smaller and younger than Jeremy and Logan suspected maybe a close cousin or even brother. He had jet black hair and big deer-like brown eyes. He had stared at Logan strangely when he first came in like he was analyzing him looking for a threat. The boy had eventually calmed down and looked back at his phone. Jeremy was busy talking to Emile about something Logan could not hear.

“He’s my employer.” Logan said abruptly. The boy next to him jumped at the sound of someone talking to him.

“H-he’s my brother. Uhm adopted. I am.” The deer-eyed boy said shakily and made staggering eye contact with Logan. 

“Logan.” The intellectual introduced himself quietly.

“Virgil.” Virgil answered back quietly. “My real name’s Victor, Virgilius is my middle name.” 

“Like the Roman Poet?” Logan asked slyly. Logan had always been a bit looser around people younger than him. He had been a teenager once, he understood them a bit better than adults. He was just now getting to be one.

“I guess. I write poetry in my spare time but it’s pretty dark.” Virgil shrugged and seemed to relax just as Logan had.

“Do you have your notes?” The librarian slowly asked.

Virgil slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out a small purple notepad with a hand-drawn skull with a stormcloud with a lightning bolt behind it. Before Virgil could flip the notepad open Logan spoke again.

“Did you draw this?” He seemed amazed.

“Uh....yeah actually. It’s a therapy method Jeremy taught me. Channeling your feelings into art or words. Poetry and art are kinda fun I guess.” The boy said slowly.

“It’s astonishing accurate for a high school student.” Logan complimented.

“Yeah.” Virgil looked down at his realistic drawing and seemed to smile slightly.

“Were you and Jeremy close?” Logan asked warily.

“Yeah, I’d say so. He used to go on walks with me and helped me with homework. On the weekends he would take me on drives at night once he got his license. Then he went to collage and dropped out because of tuition. Remy thought he had gotten involved with alcohol or something and had lost his job. Jeremy told me he had gotten sexually harassed so he quit. Remy wouldn’t listen though. He never does.” Virgil explained quietly.

“I...I never knew.” Logan turned back to where Jeremy was slightly smiling with Emile now and his eyes occasionally drifted to Virgil sitting in the corner.

“He wouldn’t have told you. Jer has always been kind of closed off. As far as I knew I was the only exception.” Virgil stated blandly.

“Hey Vee!” Emile smiled brightly and waved him over. Logan suddenly felt out of place. He considered leaving but he couldn’t bring himself to leave. He needed to talk to Jeremy.

Jeremy embraced Virgil best he could and ruffled his brightly indigo streaked hair, messing it even more. They started talking and Jeremy smiled brighter than Logan had ever seen. That smile made his palms sweaty and his heart skip, Logan wanted that smile to stay forever...

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Okay yeah this chapter was angsty and Remy is way out of character but I needed a reason why Janus was always so bitter. I managed to include some fluffy heartache bits though so I’m proud of myself. Next chapter I think I’ll include the library again, and I can’t decide whether to put Janus(Jeremy) in a wheelchair or put him on crutches SO you my dear foxlings get to help me out. Crutches or Wheelchair and should he be permanently paralyzed in that leg? Let me know via a dm or just comment (reply) on this post.

 Until next time my dear Foxlings!