#this series is the reason I need therapy and the therapy itself

[brungeons-and-bragons]

Me starting GTN after hearing about it from a friend: NEEEEEEED the bone lesbians to kiss

Me finishing NTN: love is all around me and god needs to die.

[cjlouwho]

Prompt: Everyone knows that Tommy is a pushover for Buck's 🥺 eyes (it's a running joke for the 118/217), but when Tommy gets upset and is very quietly 🥺, Buck is shocked by how completely and utterly insane he goes to make Tommy feel better.

(bonus points if it's a completely dumb reason, like Tommy's run out of ice cream or something and it's just A Bad Day)

A little silly, a little serious, I hope you enjoy!

One of the many things Buck loved about his and Tommy's relationship is that he got to see a side of Tommy that no one else saw. He got to see many sides of Tommy that no one else saw, actually.

While everyone got a piece of calm, cool, and collected Thomas Kinard, Buck got all that and everything in between.

He saw him on his best days, his worst days, goofy days, sick days, horny days, tired days, all the days! He often thought of making a list of all the things people would be surprised to know about Tommy. He'd never share it, of course, but it'd be nice for him to have.

Like, how Tommy was ticklish only on his right side. And when he got tickled, he didn't do his normal laugh. Instead it was a high pitched giggle with a snort.

Or, how Tommy was super proud of the fact he knew every single word to We Didn't Start the Fire and he felt the need to sing it at the top of his lungs at least once a week.

How he loved human connection, but hated being touched by strangers. He'd hug a friend all night long if you needed it, but if he didn't know you please keep your hands to yourself.

How he liked tomatoes on cold sandwiches, but never on toasted ones.

How he loved when Buck would sit on the countertop and kiss him because it made him feel smaller, and he loved feeling small and protected in Evan's arms.

How his voice got deeper during sex. Whether he was inside Buck or Buck was inside him, his voice would always get all gravely and deep in a way that sent shivers down Buck's spine.

Maybe one of the biggest ones was how Tommy was not always the stoic, perfectly poised man as he presented himself to the world.

Tommy could get emotional. Emotional in a way that was usually reserved for movies written by men about women during their period.

Buck was thrown off by it the first time it happened. He almost thought it was a joke, until he saw the tears in Tommy's eyes as he mourned the fact he was out of whipped cream.

Then it was just heartbreaking.

It didn't happen often. A series of bad events throughout the day would build up in his body and brain until the smallest inconvenience caused him to fall apart.

They'd talked about it before. Tommy had grown up having to hold in his thoughts and feelings. They'd build and build until he'd do something erratic or harmful. Then he joined the army, and those emotions would build up the same way. Being in the army itself was a bit erratic and harmful, so he didn't have the best coping skills.

It wasn't until he started therapy, and his therapist helped him realize that he needed to let himself feel whatever he was feeling that he slowly and gradually became better at opening up.

However, there were still days where he felt the need to let everything build. Build and build until he burst. Except, now days, instead of becoming erratic or harmful, his eyes would well up and his lip would come out in a pout, and Buck would feel the need to move heaven and earth to make it all better.

Buck knew something was off as soon as he got home from work. Tommy was already there in the garage, half bent over his truck as he worked on the engine.

Buck let out a whistle. “What a view,” he teased.

Tommy glanced back at him, gave him a half smile before focusing back on his truck. “Hey, Baby. I ordered dinner. Should be in before it gets here.”

To anyone else, that might seem like a regular conversation. To Buck, it was the exact opposite. Normal Tommy would make some teasing comment right back, letting Buck know what he was seeing was just a preview of what was to come.

This... This was the start of an emotional night.

*****

Dinner was fairly quiet, with Buck leading most of the conversation. He knew not to ask questions yet. If he did it too soon, Tommy would completely shut down and it would take even longer to get any information out of him. As much as Buck hated it, this had to play out a certain way.

Luckily, he was fluent in Tommy.

It was a little after dinner, once Buck had settled in the living room, that it began.

“Evan?” Tommy called out from the kitchen.

“Yeah?”

“Is... Did you put my ice cream in a different spot?”

“No, it's-” Buck froze, thinking back to two nights ago. Jee had come over and wanted a treat. She ended up eating the last of Tommy's favorite birthday cake ice cream. He knew that, on a regular day, Tommy wouldn't care that it was gone.

He also knew today wasn't a regular day.

“I think it's all gone, Babe,” he said cautiously as he got up from the couch and headed into the kitchen.

“Oh. Okay.”

He wasn't angry. He never got angry over little things like that.

He was sad. Resigned to the fact he would not be getting any of his favorite ice cream tonight.

Buck often felt like it'd be a lot easier if he just got angry.

He made it into the kitchen just as Tommy closed the freezer door. His face downcast, he glanced up at Buck through his eyelashes, eyes wide and wet. His bottom lip jutted out ever so slightly before he turned away from Buck and headed for the pantry.

“I'll have cookies instead,” he said with a sniff.

Buck got out his phone and pressed a few buttons before stuffing it back into his pocket and walking over to Tommy.

“Honey, why don't we just go sit down for a minute?”

“I just...” His shoulders sagged. “I really don't want cookies.”

Gently, Buck placed his hands on Tommy's back, nudging him until he could lead him toward the living room. “Why don't we go sit on the couch, okay?”

Tommy simply nodded, but Buck could see him lift a hand to his face and wipe a tear off his cheek.

The thing was, Buck knew he could be a handful sometimes. He was bratty, pouty, stubborn, and jealous. And Tommy accepted all of that. Not just accepted it, loved it. He loved every part of Buck, even the parts Buck didn't love himself.

Buck also knew Tommy would do anything for him. Would drop whatever he was doing and run to Buck's side the second he got a call. Would wait on him hand and foot. He spoiled Buck rotten, and everyone knew it.

There weren't as many opportunities for Buck to reciprocate that level of love and support. But when these days came along, that what's Buck's time to shine. He hated to see Tommy like this, but loved that he could be there for him. Loved that he could help him through it. So that's what he did.

They got situated, Buck leaning against the arm rest with his legs sprawled out on the couch. He pulled Tommy down so his back rested against Buck's chest. Buck wrapped his arms around him, hands meeting just over his heart. Tommy's hands drifted up and latched onto Buck's, holding tight.

“Why don't you tell me about work?” Buck asked, pressing a kiss to the top of Tommy's head. Things had been fine before they left for work the previous morning, so something had to have happened during their shift.

“I only had two calls.”

“And?”

“And the first one was a drunk driver. It was noon, Evan. Noon.”

“Casualties?”

Tommy shook his head. “No, but a young girl got hit. Spinal injury. She probably won't walk again.”

Now Buck had a starting point.

“After that?”

Tommy's body tensed so Buck squeezed him tighter. “The new probie, Jenkins, did something stupid and pissed me off.”

“What'd he do?”

“Doesn't matter.”

“If it pissed you off, it matters.”

“He's one of those religious types that carries pamphlets in their pockets,” Tommy explained. “I guess he overheard me talking about you- about us- a few weeks ago so he gifted me a pamphlet today.”

Buck knew where this was going. “You're kidding me?”

“I wish. It was some Adam and Eve crap, not even original. It reminded me of my dad. He... He used to say things like that. Anyway, I threw the pamphlet away without reading it.”

“Good for you.”

Tommy shifted slightly, tangling his and Buck's legs together. “The only thing that kept running through my mind was how we watched a little girl's life change forever, she will never walk again, and all Jenkins was thinking about was turning me straight.”

Buck brought a hand to Tommy's hair, carefully running his fingers through it. “I'm sorry, Tommy.”

“My aunt texted me too. Wanted me to come to the next family reunion.”

“Are you gonna go?”

“I told her I'd have a plus one and she... she said she doesn't wanna hear my dad complain for an entire weekend. I was quickly uninvited.”

Buck took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I- If you wanna go-”

“There's not a single part of me that wants to be there, especially without you. I'm good.”

“If you're sure.”

“I'm sure.”

“What about your truck?” Buck asked. “You were working on it when I got home.”

“Oh. That.” Tommy rolled his eyes. “That was the icing on the cake. Engine light came on in the middle of my drive home. I think I fixed the problem for now, but I'm gonna need a new engine soon. Everything just fell apart today, Evan, I- sorry.”

“You don't need to be sorry.” Just then the doorbell rang and Buck gave Tommy a pat on the shoulder. “You do need to get the door though. It's for you.”

Tommy sat up, eyebrows furrowing at Buck before he got up and headed for the door.

About thirty seconds later, he was back with a paper bag in hand. His eyes were soft and tear-filled, but not with sadness this time. “You ordered my ice cream?”

Buck nodded, giving him a smile. “Of course I did.”

Tommy set the bag down and walked over to Buck, kneeling beside the couch and resting his head on Evan's lap. He wrapped his arms around Evan's waist the best he could, his face pressed against Evan's stomach. “I love you so much.”

After a few seconds, Buck stroked his thumb over Tommy's cheek. “Come here,” he said softly, pulling him up for a chaste kiss. “I love you too.”

[back2bluesidex]

Slide - The Reconciliation - MYG (18+)

Pairing: Producer!Yoongi X Lyricist!Reader 

Theme: Angst, smut, unplanned pregnancy. Fwb to ?

Word count: 1.2k+

Summary: 

"I can see the pain in your eyes I don't wanna say that I'm God, but I'll take you to heaven if you die" 

Alternatively, 

“There was never a time when I wasn’t yours.”

Listened to Slide by Chase Atlantics

Warnings: therapy, tiny angst.

Minors do not interact!!

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Patreon (for early access)

Taglist requests are closed for now

A/N: This is a feel-good chapter I swear! we are at the end almost. next chapter will be more of an epilogue than an actual chapter.

“Why did you choose to keep the baby? From our conversations and assessments before, what I have understood is that you are not a turbulent person. You tend to think logically before taking any step, then despite knowing the baby is not a good idea why did you keep it?” one of the doctors once asked you while you were at the retreat. 

“I wanted to keep a trace of Yoongi in my life. I know it was not a valid reason to keep a baby but for him I challenged my rationality.” You replied without fumbling. You were feeling a lot better already. You accepted your mistakes, your bad decision of keeping the baby as a replacement of Yoongi, you also accepted the fact that when you go back to Korea, Yoongi might not wait for you. 

You accepted that life needs to go on. 

You accepted that everything becomes alright when it’s time. 

“How do you feel about him now? If I ask you to describe him with an emotion, what would you use?” the doctor questioned further. 

“Love.” a smile tugged at the corner of your lips. 

“So, your feelings towards him remain unchanged despite the pain he had made you go through?” 

“Yes. I think it was tough for me because a part of me wanted more from him, be it his attention, his validation - I wanted more, which was simply unnecessary. I don’t want anything from him any longer. I can love him for as long as it lasts and it’s okay if he doesn’t feel the same this time too.” 

“Are you sure you will be okay?” 

“Yes, I am.” 

Even amid the busy cacophony of the airport, your ears register Yoongi’s voice crystal clear - as if your brain has curved out a side of it to fit his essence perfectly. 

When your eyes fall on him, waving at you slightly, you see how different he looks. 

His hair has grown longer, cheeks have sunken a bit, his eyes are tired with heavy bags underneath those. 

But he looks jovial. His eyes have a shine you have hardly ever witnessed, his gummy smile is small but real, his face is shining what you could name as prosperity. 

And all of these are for you. 

Or at least.. You think so. 

“You came.” you whispered as you reach close to him. The woody fragrance of his skin makes you feel like you are finally home. 

“I had to.” Yoongi smiles at you. And then you see him inhaling a sharp breath as if he is preparing himself for a war. 

“Y/N..” he utters your name again and this time the vibration of his voice sends a spark through every inch of your body, “I am in love with you. I think I have been in love with you for a long time now. I know I have made you go through hell all alone. But if you give me a chance - I will.. I will be the best for you. I will try to give you back everything you have lost because of me.” 

Your heart thumps inside your chest. 

This. You have waited for a lifetime to hear this. You have imagined how elated you would feel when you finally hear these words from the man that you love. But no imagination prepares you the way your heart finds itself at peace. The way you feel less excited but more content. 

So, this is how it feels to be loved by the person you love? 

It feels like a warm ray of sunshine in the cold dark winter. It feels like the first shower that cuts through the scorching summer heat. It feels like finding an oasis after wandering aimlessly in a desert. 

It feels like finding a home amid the maze of glass and concrete. 

“Are you sure you are not misjudging your feelings?” you find yourself saying. 

Yoongi smiles a little, “I have never been surer.” 

“I guess you already know that I feel the same for you. But still I think we should take it slow. We should take some time before labeling our relationship.” you place your suggestion. No matter how sure both of you are, you don’t want to jump into anything. You did once and the results weren’t in favor of any of you. 

Yoongi nods with glassy eyes, “You’re right. Let’s take it slow.” 

“What do you think?” You read Yoongi’s lips as hearing anything overpowering the sound of music is almost impossible with these headphones on. 

Putting your thumb up, you nod with satisfaction and with a smile playing on your lips. 

Min Yoongi is not only the man you love, he is also the best music producer you have ever known. 

The name of his studio is justified - this is indeed a lab of a musical genius who doesn't even need lyrics to make you feel a thousand emotions. Only the tune is enough for him. 

“Who is this for?” you ask while detaching the bulky headphone from your ears. 

“No one. This is a personal project. For me…. And you.” Yoongi smiles sheepishly. 

He looks so young under the dim and artificial light of the studio. He looks so fresh - so pretty. You want to reach out for his hair like all those times before, when you had no right on him. 

But this time you do, so you spread your fingers to touch his hair. 

Running your fingers through his long dark locks and tugging those behind his ear you say, “what about the lyrics? Have any?” 

“Not yet.” he replies, reaching for your fingers and intertwining those with his. He pulls your hand towards his mouth, places a sweet kiss on the top of it. 

“Wait then.” you leave your chair to access your bag.

Yoongi looks at you in awe when you place your notebook on his lap, lyrics written all over the pages. He takes it up and reads what you have given him. 

“Somebody does love. But I'm thinking 'bout you?” he reads quietly but his voice has dipped down an octave lower. 

“When did you write it?” he places his question. 

"Who do you love?

Who else do you think?

Who else do you remember?

Who else do you hate?

Who do you live for?

Who else are you smiling for?

Who do you cry for?

Could this be love?"

“At the retreat.” 

“Is it.. Is it for me?” 

You nod in affirmation. The back of your neck feels hot. 

“When you left, I thought you were going to kick me out of your life. I.. I thought you hated me.” Yoongi’s voice trembles. So does your heart. 

“I would never.” you reach for his lips, place a sweet kiss on those pink muscles. 

He kisses you back. Grabbing the back of your head, he pushes your entire weight on his body. 

“I.. I love you, Y/N. I love you so fucking much. Will you- will you be mine?” Yoongi speaks with fear and hesitation in his voice. 

“There was never a time when I wasn’t yours.” you connect your forehead with his. 

After a month of taking things slow with him, you think it’s finally the time you dive head first in the vast ocean called Min Yoongi. 

And the way Yoongi wraps himself around you, you know he is just as eager to dive into you too. 

You have never wanted anything more. 

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[crowleysgirl56]

The vast majority of people who work on a show are paid upfront for their labour

They don't get paid dependent on how successful a show is

They also don't do work that doesn't get paid- if they are working on a show that gets cancelled, they get paid for the work they did

All this 'stream GO for the hard workers behind the scenes' is bullshit

They work for companies are will be put on different projects

Just be honest that you want more GO (despite the message that it sends to studios- that audiences are ok with abusers! Just turn a blind eye to them! Yes that gives them more power but who cares because people will watch and make them money!)

Don't pretend your doing this for moral reasons

(And acting like you're doing this for Terry- for all we know he might want his work with an abuser completely destroyed- it's stupid to assume he'd want the series to be continued)

Like say this shit with your chest, you know?

Oh boy, ok. Gonna take a minute to answer this.

Firstly, I and a lot of the fandom, are heartbroken over what NG has done. Because we were duped into thinking he was a decent person. From the things that he wrote to the things that he said we thought that he was good person. And it is horrible that there are people out there suffering because yet another rich powerful white man decided he had the right to take advantage of them.

You seem rather angry and if that anger stems because you have experienced something similar yourself then I hope you have love and support around you so that you can heel.

If you want to talk about money, let me remind you that NG has already been paid for season 3. He will continue to get royalties, and thanks to the writers strike last year, he will now get more money for those royalties than before. If S3 doesn’t go ahead then hundreds of people will lose their jobs. Will they get other jobs? Sure, maybe. But any loss of job in this current economic climate is terrible and stressful (and I’m not talking about DT or MS here. They’ll get more work).

I don’t know if you understand how hyper fixation in neurodiversity works, but this is extremely painful for some people and takes a lot of time and energy and therapy to get over when a hyper fixation is threatened or taken away. Some people, like myself, need closure for things otherwise we can find it extremely difficult to move on emotionally. This obviously does not compare to someone trying to survive after SA, but emotional diversity can be extremely debilitating as well. They are apples and oranges to compare, but you can’t invalidate one person’s pain because you think another person’s pain is worth more.

As for the show itself, there is so little queer representation in media. There is a lot more nowadays compared to a decade ago, or even 5 years ago, but the little representation we have is so extremely important. Do you know how many people have found a truth to themselves thanks to GO? How many people discovered something about themselves that finally gives them answer to how they feel? How at the age of 40 I finally realised that I’m asexual and NOT BROKEN. That’s fucking important.

And this. ALL of this is why everyone, including me, are so fucking angry with NG. Because he has left us emotionally devastated. He has not just physically hurt these women. He has emotionally hurt hundreds of thousands of people. He is a stain.

I have spoken before when this all first happened about how I was angry that my one teeny tiny corner of the internet that made me happy was on fire. I left for a bit. I came back. I want to continue to interact with like minded people who love this fandom. I won’t stop that.

And frankly, and here’s the last I’ll say on this, the world is on fire. It is filled with a lot of fucking awful shit right now. I have suffered a very deep depression of late where some nights after I put the kids to bed I just stare and cry. You don’t know that about me because I don’t say those kinds of things on the internet, because our internet personas are facades. They’re not real. They’re not true life. I’m a real person and I’m aching inside about so many things. And these kinds of messages are just breaking me further. Seriously, when you send stuff like this do you even consider that?! So when I decide to hold onto one of the last bastions of entertainment that brings me joy, I’m not going to be guilted into dropping it because someone involved happens to be a monster. Because let me tell you if we did that every time someone turned out to be horrible, then we would never watch or enjoy anything ever again. EVERYTHING you watch or listen to or enjoy or like or cared about is connected to someone who is horrible or produced by a gigantic evil corporation (Nestle, Disney, Microsoft, Facebook, Google just to name a few). Every. Single. Thing. It’s the clothing you wear, the electronics you buy, the food you eat, the furniture in your house, and ALL the entertainment you consume. So if you gave up everything for some moral stance, then you would literally have nothing left.

Dropping Good Omens does nothing. It sends no message to anyone because the next really fucking awful person is about to produce the next big thing you might happen to love and care about. So what’s the point?

Let me have Good Omens. You don’t like that, then you can block me. That’s what the button is there for. You don’t need to send anonymous hateful messages. And if you want me to “say this shit with my chest” maybe you can send me an ask with the Anonymous off. So I can see your chest too.

I’m turning off anonymous asks now. Considering the only asks I’ve ever received is abusive shit telling me to kill myself or saying David Tennant is a paedophile or just telling me I’m a horrible person for supporting NG (when I’ve already stated before that I don’t anymore).

Sorry for those who’ve managed to get to the end here. Thanks for reading if you have, sorry it was so long. I hope you aren’t receiving the same type of messages. If Anonymous has read this far, I don’t know, maybe think twice before being horrible to random people on the internet?

[perictione00]

Selfish

Ch 1: Surprise!!!

Pairing: Geto Suguru x reader

Warnings: a bit dark and graphic..?

Synopsis: You left the Jujutsu World behind the moment the source of your warmth turned cold. So what happens when you come face to face with that one episode in your life that you wanted to obliterate? Simple, you reap what you sow.

Jujutsu Kaisen Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Malaysia, 2014

It was a tiring day, your period wasn't helping either. You were just itching to get home, take a shower, and order from that new Mexican place your boyfriend had been talking about. It was a Friday, so you were getting excited about the weekend. For some reason, you were feeling so grateful, maybe because your life was finally normal and you were happy. It was all okay until you encountered a young boy in a wheelchair, with a curse engulfing his lower body. A world that you wanted to escape so desperately, somehow never failed to present itself in a situation that made you question your morality. But after everything you had seen, you were way past morality, so you ignored the boy like you did with every other person who needed you.

"Jayden", you called out for your boyfriend as you opened the door to your shared apartment. You assumed, that he wasn't home yet as nobody answered but the familiar cursed energy you sensed said otherwise. You felt dreaded as it wasn't possible, you had dodged every single mistake that could have given away your whereabouts.

"Please no", you prayed as you walked further into the apartment. You froze, as you entered your bedroom. The bed was soaked in blood as the lifeless body of your boyfriend was being violated by a curse. "No, no, no, no, no", tears spilled out of your eyes as you started screaming in denial. It quickly turned into anger as a certain raven-haired man standing in the corner declared his presence, "Surprise!!!". You attacked him with a punch straight to his face and he didn't budge, he didn't dodge the many punches you threw his way while crying your heart out. He did stop you, chuckling, "Aww, don't cry..did you actually love this one? C'mon now, you know you're not capable of that". He started cradling you in a hug, "Now let's get back to business.., remember the traitor who left me?.. yeah, yeah, the one I trusted the most, remember that person?", his hand slid down your hair slowly as he continued, "oh wait, you look a lot like that person..the one who abandoned me".

2005

On New Year's Eve, you told your mum about some weird dreams you were having for the past few days, and of course, being a typical mother, she blamed it on your choices of television series. But you knew it wasn't because of the few Supernatural episodes that you had seen in the span of two months.

From the beginning of time, you were used to seeing terrifying figures randomly, which were avoided at all costs as you were scared of what might turn out if they knew of your existence. However, your parents thought otherwise, resulting in child therapy, which wasn't working yet you pretended it did. You adapted to your surroundings being full of creepy creatures, ignoring them, and trying to live like a normal teenager. That was until the onset of some weird dreams and a malevolent presence under your bed. It was weird, as none of them ever came in close proximity to you. Hence, you started sleeping with your parents again. The nightmares didn't stop; in spite of that, you felt good, safe, and loved, no longer scared.

The peacefulness vanished on the first day of 2006, when you were alone in the house and someone was singing a broken melody. You were petrified as you saw a woman playing a violin emerging from a newborn's skull, singing while rocking to the rhythm in the drawing room, suddenly stopping, turning, and smiling unnaturally at you.

"You would make a beautiful cello."

You bolted as it proceeded to move crookedly in your direction. It was guffawing so loudly that you had to cover your ears. Locking yourself in the bathroom, you called your parents, whispering to them about how much you loved them, until you heard a frightening tune on a piano. The call was disconnected, and the door started melting while you tried to escape from the window you couldn't reach. The room started turning white, and you saw your reflection in the mirror, smiling at you. Your vision blurred as you fell into a slumber.

Waking up, your eyes adjusted to the brightness of a white room. You felt agitated at first, but slowly observing, you saw your parents sitting sadly on a white couch. Thank fuck, it was a hospital room. Their happiness and relief after your recovery from an unexplainable incident couldn't be measured. You were spoiled rotten with love as you woke up after a week of unconsciousness. In the evening of the same day, a bulky man in all black approached your family, discussing something before finally coming to you. He introduced himself as Masamichi Yaga and unfolded the world of Jujutsu sorcerers to you. Though your parents were sure he was a cult member, you felt ecstatic; you weren't crazy after all. With that came many days of convincing, resulting in your parents ultimately agreeing to admit you to Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College after checking its legitimacy a thousand more times. They were not ready to let you go, but they came around as you kept insisting with evidence.

On the way to the campus, the tough-looking man turned out to be a total softie who was explaining to you about your unknown technique and appreciating you for exorcising a grade 2 curse without any training. You were dumbfounded, but you were a sucker for praise, so you didn't question him.

After reaching the campus, you were introduced to your classmates, an almost gloomy Kento Nanami, and a total cutie, Yu Haibara. They were great, especially Haibara, who was currently showing you around the campus. After getting a hot drink, you both settled down on a seat. You weren't expecting to get along with anyone on the very first day, but Haibara's just so sweet that anyone can feel comfortable. He showed you your assigned room, and you guys called it a night.

However, later at night, your slumber was disrupted by a growling stomach at 3 in the morning. It was odd timing for a takeout, but you still gave it a shot, ordering a Zaru Soba with cola. You were surprised at how advanced the Tokyo delivery system was, as you got your delivery within 10 minutes. It tasted better than your expectations, and with that, you started brainstorming ideas to decorate your room, which was interrupted by a knock on the door. You ignored it the first time out of caution, but you opened it on the third knock. To your surprise, a literal god stood in front of you, and you didn't know how to react. "Hey..?", you broke the ice with an awkward greeting.

"I think the delivery guy confused our orders because we ordered the same thing, so I'm assuming this is yours", the Greek god said as he offered you your cola.

"Oh yeah, thanks..um..yeah", you were doing a great job continuing the conversation with your five syllables. Before you could close the door and save your ass from embarrassment, the guy asked for your name, and you told him. Shit, now you felt obligated to ask his name, and so you did. "And you are?"

"Geto Suguru"

Ch 2

[infinialtairs]

~ Rayman and Casper in each different scenarios ~ (and...art styles I suppose)

I honestly took it overboard with amount effort I put into this even though it was suppose to be small...the pattern I swear.

But I do like how these turned out pretty much so task successfully failed?

[ ☀️ More below If you're interested in my rambles and separate images 🦊]

So...onto my rambles 2.0:

Rayman (pre-Ramon) and Casper (Non Canon Compliant)

They're sort of THE ONES I focus on a lot...even if it would never HAPPEN in any sorts of way, not even possible for them to interact, left alone...dating. But ey! more fun huh? If they DO happen to interact, it is mostly one sided hatered (from Casper's at least), Rayman only really starts dislike Casper when Casper ""tries"" flirting with him as mock and joke, finding itself annoying and stupid. But eventually liking each other and understanding each perspective's...even if Casper doesn't get Rayman's much still.

2. Ramon and Casper ( Neutral )

This is probably follows the flow of Captain Laserhawk series the most? or at least, it does. I actually been hyperfixate on that concept of them - both in lowest points in their lives but Casper letting Ramon (along with Bullfrog and Dolph) to crash over in small shitty apartment because despite hating Ramon (Rayman before) for his whole life essentially. Casper does sees Ramon in.. new light because Ramon opened his eyes and saw the real true colors of Eden. Now, I don't think they would necessary date? not saying it's impossible but considering their both positions...Ramon NEEDS TIME and HELP and THERAPY badly. (same goes to Dolph, Bullfrog and even Casper even if he will deny.)

3. Rayman? (Fakeman) and Casper ( Toxic )

This also follows mostly the canon of Captain Laserhawk series but INSTEAD of meeting Ramon by mere accident...Fakeman and Casper both meeting up in bar, Fakeman might know something of Casper MORE than he leads onto.. (I won't go in depth of what just yet but it is working in progress...) SO Fakeman purposely tries to flirt with Casper, even when Casper pushes off Fakeman with some jokes, it did get the best of him... They ARE NOT in healthy "relationship" (it's toxic for a reason). Fakeman is only USING Casper for his gains...

4. Rayman and Casper ( Eden's Cutie Restaurant AU )

in other words, completely very fluff and soft core of them where Rayman as waitress having BIG BIG crush on Casper and Casper as more of poet and writer in general, KNOWS Rayman likes him...in some way. the "Will they get together or not?" question lurks over them... I actually don't have a lot to say about this. They just exist if they didn't had traumas.

Separate images without texts:

RAMBLED ONCE AGAIN ABOUT CASPER AND RAYMAN CUZ THEY'RE KEEP BEING IN MY HEAD ARRGHH!!!!

if you have read this far or just wanted see the pics, thank you for your time, solider /pos 🫡💜

[theramseyloft]

I go you already have my apologies but can you re explain your ideal bird that you are breeding for. From the looks of your loft updates you prefer standard non exaggerated features and minimal muffs and normal length beaks

No worries. ^v^

I've been reworking a few things while we've been stuck on hiatus, so there have been some changes to the plans for the future, and I don't mind going over them.

I am trying to develop a unique breed specifically for therapy work.

As many of my long term followers know: A feral pigeon, found in a parking lot on the brink of starvation, taught himself to alert me for anxiety attacks of crippling severity.

If he could not alert me fast enough to prevent me going catatonic, he knew to go get my husband.

And he worked out a series of behaviors to draw me back out of that state if my husband was not with me.

He later developed an alert specific to blood sugar spikes.

That's far beyond the scope of an Emotional Support Animal!

And I believe that if a pigeon off the literal street was naturally inclined to develop these behaviors, then temperament traits conducive to such service work can be selected for.

I aim to do that by combining highly intelligent Performance breeds like Homers, Rollers, and Tumblers with structurally sound exhibition breeds possessing a demonstrably heritable mellow temperament.

And I want this breed to have a unique look that easily identifies it so that it will be hard for feather merchants to counterfeit. (Yes, that is a thing that happens.)

So, my favorite embellishments in the breeds we are already using are going to be enhanced by a few exhibition breeds who exemplify those traits, and one specifically for color.

To that end, we will be utilizing these performance breeds:

Feral

I can get into whether or not this is a breed in itself in another post. This is going to be a long one as it is.

There are several risks to working with ferals, absolutely.

You can pretty much guarantee that any you may find have lice, one or two species of worms, at least two protozoan parasites, and could potentially have a whole host of other bacterial or viral pathogens with out showing any outward sign.

Anyone who works with ferals as a first responder must be prepared to quarantine them carefully, vaccinate them, and test them to find out what all you will need to treat.

But there are three huge advantages for the Assistance Pigeon Project:

They are the epitome of structural soundness. That slight, agile little body has come to be through surviving generations of environmental pressures from having to travel long distances to find food to having to dodge a wide range of predators like cats and hawks.

There is no better source of intelligence than the descendent of birds that have survived for generations on their wits and luck alone.

And no better source of an excellent immune system than the result of generations living with the host of parasites and pathogens that they are so often loaded down with in the wild. There is a reason you won't see any outward sign that a feral has anything!

Once a feral's parasites and pathogens are cleaned out, they are incredibly sturdy!

Being a domesticated animal, the offspring of ferals in human care tend to focus all the inquisitive brightness that kept their line alive in the wild on bonding and communicating with their care taker.

Racing Homer

The thoroughbred of pigeons.

If you do not count Ferals as a breed, this is the most structurally sound and intelligent of all pure breeds.

Hands down the single most athletic!

They are stockier, more aerodynamic, and far more muscular than the average feral, because they were bred to be able to find their way home from drop points up to and over 500 miles away.

It takes not just fine tuned musculature and metabolism, but an excellent memory and keen intelligence to adapt on the literal fly to the changes in environment and predator populations over such distances.

Because of their exposure in races to hundreds or even thousands of other birds from lofts all across the country, Racers also have the strongest immune system of any purebred.

Birmingham Roller

This is not a breed that flies long distances like Racers or Ferals, but as a performer, it is still required to be structurally sound.

Performances consist of flying in a small flock called a Kit to perform a waterfall effect of staggered rolls where birds backflip 15-20 times in a row in midair, straighten from the roll, and rejoin the kit, one after another.

They are less flighty than Ferals and less independent than Racers, typically working much more closely with their trainer: keeping within sight of the loft and earshot of the person.

This makes them a little more human focused and naturally inclined to be biddable.

Though many traits vary wildly by line, these tend to be very small birds; energetic, jaunty, and playful.

Aside from adding that wonderful temperament, they will help keep the end result small.

Portuguese Tumbler

I waffled on these for quite a while, mostly because of their very small size and absolute breeding overdrive.

But they are excellent parents despite being the second smallest breed of pigeon in the world, and, unlike the Valencian Figurita, generally don't need one of their nestlings fostered.

And that speaks very highly of just how physically fit they are.

There are a few big breeds among the ones selected specifically for temperament, so Ports and Birms should help bring the size down and improve the parenting ability of the blend.

But the real push was just how Exuberantly friendly and playful this gleeful little breed is!

There are two performance breeds I have no hands on experience with yet that I would like to add:

Oriental Roller

This one is a dual purpose:

Once again, a structurally sound bird of moderate build, because it is still flown in competition.

But what interests me is the tail.

This breed is one of the major components of the Mindian (Miniature Indian) Fantail, Bred to Indian Fantails too small to compete with in order to improve the structural soundness and preserve the fan.

And as one of the embellishments I want in this breed is a slight fan, this body type is ideal to help display it comfortably.

Turkish Takla

The Takla is a Roller breed, still flown in competition, and becoming popular in the US for its docile, biddable temperament.

It comes with or without crest or muffs, and I very much like the grouse muffs of this breed.

We'll have to see what the temperament is really like, but the bird is gorgeous, and I expect it will blend well in terms of structure, temperament, and moderate embellishments that are still eye catching.

Breeds selected for temperament:

Show Line Danzig Highflier

This breed is the single best investment I have ever made towards the temperament of my breeding flock!

They are intensely friendly! Every bird I have raised with any amount of Danzig in them has gone on to be a beloved cuddle bug of a pet.

My Husband's ESA, Cotta, is the closest we have gotten so far to the behaviors we want in a bird bred for Service work.

Not only is he my Husband's devoted ESA, he also acts as mine when I need regulation, and even Cheeto's when he struggles with impulse control or obsessive behaviors.

Cotta is so intensely human focused that he has organized Cheeto and another bird who was only with us temporarily to provide me aid during a very severe episode of vertigo.

That temperament has passed so reliable through Satin's family that I would have to be an idiot not to incorporate this breed.

Frillback

A shockingly mellow breed!

And not just because they could only be less aerodynamic if you gave them parachutes..

A great test to rule out learned helplessness being the root of any big or showy breed's apparent mellowness is to cross them with a smaller breed that flies well so the offspring will be more maneuverable than the big or highly embellished parent.

If the offspring that can physically evade you is flighty and nervous by nature, then the "mellow docility" of the parent is just learned helplessness.

But if that more maneuverable offspring is just as docile and tractable as the parent, then you can be pretty well assured that that really is the parent's temperament.

Frillbacks fall so soundly into the "genuinely that sweet tempered" category that it has passed on into multiple generations of my flock.

I won't use this breed much, because the curls are a little much and it's hard to find clean legged birds or lines with only moderate muffs.

But their temperament is so fantastic that it would be remiss of me not to use them at all.

Lucerne

This elegant Swiss breed borders on too mellow for its own good.

There are lines with peeps so quiet that they fail to trigger the parent's feeding response. Paired with another breed, though, even completely oblivious Lucerne will respond correctly once they see their mate feeding.

My first pair, despite hating me with the fury of a thousand suns, were so perfectly tractable that working with them was a breeze.

Some of my most out going individuals are crossed with this breed.

I love their structure and their very moderate Grouse muffs.

They have a shorter beak than I like, but it's long enough to be functional, and the other breeds will keep the beak from getting too short.

Show Type Racing Homer

This is another show breed famed for their docility.

While it isn't as absolutely incredible as the breeds higher on the list, I will be incorporating them for their very simple, elegant structure, and bold, out going curiosity.

Classic Old Frill

This breed is somewhat of an indulgence, I admit.

Of the breeds included for temperament, this is the one most likely to be flighty or skittish.

But I have such a deep and abiding love for what they are: A return to form to the original standard of the Turkish Hunkari from the now beakless Modern and Oriental Frills.

Basically, the avian version of the Retromops (If you love Pugs, you should look this breed up. It's a return to the original standard: a pug with a muzzle, that can breathe normally and regulate its body temperature.)

This breed was my first love, and I want to continue to support the breeders that loved them enough to write preventative measures into the breed standard requiring that their beaks never get so short that they can't feed their peeps unaided.

There is one other breed I want to add for temperament entirely because of the temperament of mixed progeny I have purchased for the breeding program:

American Show Racer

Titan and her Mother, Ibis, take very strongly after their ASR Grandmother/Mother, respectively.

Ibis was so friendly and outgoing on arrival that I was sorely tempted to keep her as a personal pet instead of having her join the breeding flock.

Titan, despite being very defensive when she was little, grew up to be so much like her mother it takes my breath away.

I am curious to see if this breed is really that sweet tempered and it really passes so reliably, or if Ibis and her line inherited their temperament from the Lucerne side.

There are only two breeds added purely for their embellishments:

Old Dutch Capuchin

I love the Danzig's mane, and I think a little touch of ODC will add some luxury to it.

My experience with this breed was not the best temperament wise, but I have read that not to be the norm and hope to have better luck with a different line.

Garden Fantail

This is the most structurally sound of all fantails, able to fully close the fan when not displaying to fly and walk comfortably.

I do not want a full fan in this breed, but Fans seem to be a partial dominant with variable expression, if my two half fantails,

Sher and

Soiree, are any indication.

Not a necessity, by any stretch, but I really like the look of a moderate fan.

Finally, there is a single breed I plan to incorporate for color.

Archangel

There are exactly two traits I want from the Archangel:

The dominant half of its bronzing, which results in a robin like rusty breast in heterozygous form

And the intense sheen of its recessive grease quill.

With luck and patience, I hope for these nine breeds; six for performance, six for temperament, two for embellishments, and one for color...

Add up to a healthy, long lived Therapy breed whose intelligence is not blunted by their laid back mellow docility and whose unique look sacrifices none of their structural integrity.

The breeder cap will remain at ten pair, hatch controlled between evaluation periods.

Babies will be evaluated for six months.

If neither is an improvement over one or both parents, both will be classed as pets and adopted out.

If one is an improvement over which ever parent fits the program the least well, or better yet the ideal blend of their parents beneficial traits, then that one will stay, the parents will retire and go up for adoption as a bonded pair, and the sibling will be made available to the public.

New blood will come in to improve what ever trait is most lacking after each evaluation period.

Offspring we produce may become available at younger than six months once the temperament I want is reliably consistent.

But I expect that to take a fair few generations.

[bonzos-number-1-fan]

TMAGP 17 Thoughts: Hyde and Seek

Another really great episode. Of all the episodes thus far I think this one is the grandest in scope in terms of the series as a whole. It's opened up some very large topics.

Spoilers for episode 17, and light spoilers for TMA, below the cut.

First things first, Celia is blacking out and waking up in strange places again. A lot of reasons why this could be but as I believe I mentioned for TMAGP 11 Thoughts I thought the side-effects of dimension-hopping was a possibility. Given what this episode is about I think it's at least trying to imply a connection if not outright stating one.

Celia missed the date because blackouts but interestingly enough she didn't lie during this exchange. At least assumption I didn't miss any distortions, and those distortions are for lies. Anyway this was all very sweet and mushy but does have a pertinent detail. Celia was on her way to Oxford, a location prominently featured in the incident. Whether that's related of just some nice narrative symmetry remains to be seen, but we do see it's at least intentional.

The incident itself is our second Magnus statement. It's a really really good statement too. One of my favourites of the series so far, if not my favourite. It opens with a similar format to the last one and again mentions subject/agent/catalyst viability. All low. Then we get a mention of Welling Mutare Materia and "Mutare Materia" is something like "Changing Matter" and it's hard not to see the alchemic allusion in that. The set up is a, as yet unnamed, patient receiving therapy for anger issues. But that's probably the least interesting thing about this entire scene.

The most interesting thing is the thing everyone is collectively screaming about.

Anyway, there was a new receptionist behind the old front desk, some big, soft looking guy who stumbled over every word... ...There was another patient too, some bookish-looking guy with serious city miles. I used to play the game “what are you in for” where I would pass the time guessing… well, you know. In my head he was definitely some kind of weird pervert, really into stroking orchids or something.

I'm not going to get too into why those descriptions are important. If you know you know and I don't need to tell you. If you don't I'd rather not. Although I will say that it's very obvious that second one is who we all think it is. Or it's at least what we're meant to think. Alex wrote this episode and "some kind of weird pervert, really into stroking orchids" is the kind of insult you know he's revel in writing for a character like this. It also implies a lot, or absolutely nothing. Because it could be coincidence. It could be that they are responsible for the whole thing. It could just be setting the stage for what's to come. Which is what I think this is. It's an episode about interdimensional travel and it's just prepping the audience to know that's a thing that can happen. Reminding us who it could happen to. As if we've forgotten.

The patient meditates and then a lot of time seems to pass. A lot a lot. Interdimensional travel always involves time fuckery. What's interesting about it is that it doesn't ever seem to work the same way twice. Anya was a week or so, Celia was years, and this guy seemingly just sat there for weeks instead of moving in time like the others have appeared to. The methodology of this is also new where there wasn't any gap between walks to slip through, he stayed still the whole time and then woke up somewhere different. However when he meets this universe's version of himself there doesn't seem to be any significant time slip to mention. Dates in their lives don't line up quite right, which is expected, but he doesn't appeared to have travelled in time in any major way.

This does all take place in Oxford. Which is where Hilltop Road is but it doesn't appear as if the patient was at Hilltop Road for this. As we've seen previously with Hilltop it doesn't look like it works as it does in TMA here. It does seem like the Magnus Institute is monitoring Oxford for these types of events though, even if they're not happening in quite the same place. If that is the case it could also be the case that they're sending things back too. Hell, Dr. Dumfries could be in on it and sending the Institute lab rats.

I'm going to skip over most of the meat of this statement. It was really well done but really quite explicit and as such there isn't a lot for me to dig into. I don't want to explain to you what you just listened to when it's all pretty plain. But it was really great and I do want to mention that.

We do learn that his name is Darrien. The other Darrien is also Darrien. And that makes this episode the introduction of our second and third Darrien. Futures also had a Darrien who was also kind of a twat. Which is interesting. Firstly because TMA has a habit of naming characters similar names and it never meant anything. People just had similar names because people have similar names sometimes. However, our beloved Norris used to be called Neil in the pilot. But Neil is now Norris because there was another Neil. Which means one of two things to me, either Darrien, Darrien, and Darrien, are all Darrien because it's vitally important. Or Alex is fucking with up. Because it's Alex it could as likely be either.

Last thing to mention I do love how this one ends. Darrien is so sure of himself and how protected he is but we know he's locked up in a research prison from the jump. The Institute is also clearly larger than it was in TMA. More resources, more pull, more power. Love getting to see all those details bit by bit.

Interesting note here: Harcourt House isn't the Harcourt House that I think most people will have looked up on Google. This isn't in London, it's in Oxford. This is Stanton Harcourt. Which has some reputation for hauntings and cursed romances. Totally not relevant for anything going on in this episode. No sir.

Celia thanking Freddy/Chester is also interesting. She's obviously more aware of everything than the rest of the team is, and she's got history with those voices, but she's also the first to really acknowledge how pointed these incidents are. There is a very consistent theme of incidents connecting to the teams current situation or desires. I hope we get to see more of this from her where she's more aware that there a personality at play rather than just a voice.

We cap off with a lovely bit of banter between Alice and Gwen where they almost don't try to kill each other. It was very sweet. And obviously an episode with all this going on couldn't leave out a good ol' .jmj error to really hammer it home.

Also, Colin's not dead. Maybe.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Incident/CAT#R#DPHW Master Sheet and Terminology Sheet

Klaus Watch: We're back with a very exciting Klaus Watch. Row 20 has CAT2RC1147 and no date, location, or notes. I lied about it being exciting.

DPHW Theory: 1147 is interesting. Because crosslinks do seem to impact DPHWs based on the two Bonzo episodes but Mascot (Kids) -/- Murder was at 2275. Which implies that Mascot (Kids) has 2 in Death and Pain as default and that Murder doesn't increase those values. It does seem to increase Helplessness though which is something that makes a good deal of sense at least.

CAT# Theory: CAT2 is very CAT2. While it fits with the most popular theory, well enough at least, I just wrote an essay entitled Putting the CAT# Back in the Bag: The Flaws With Person/Place/Object if anyone is interested.

R# Theory: C is inline with my ideas. Very easy to discount this as entirely fiction.

Header talk: Doppleganger (Interdimensional) -/- Murder is a very interesting one. These are all existing categories so interdimensional doubles are things the OIAR have dealt with in the past. So dimension hoppers aren't anything new and with everything that's happened this episode I think we're going to see a lot more of it, and characters that are a lot more knowledgeable about it than our protagonists.

[ravenclawloverofseverussnape]

What are your opinions on snarry?

Hi, thank you very much for asking, I hope more people ask what I think about other ships, Snarry in particular..... I don't like it and I have several reasons for this.

the age difference

veran Severus is 20 years older than him, oh 21? I don't remember, the point is that the age difference is huge for me.

He is the son of James Potter

Harry is James Potter's son, which in itself leaves me conflicted. I have no opinion of Harry, but I do of James. I hate him for being a bully and practically cheating on his wife about how he "grew up," demeaned Vernon and Petunia, and intimidated muggle police officers when he's supposed to be locked up because of the prophecy.

Oh, and don't get me started on Snape's worst memory, damn, that was UNFORGETTABLE AT ALL.

He is the son of Lily Evans Potter

you see, I don't like this character very much, I've already explained why but I'll say it in summary: the fandom, J.K Rowling's writing etc paint her as "the good popular girl who wants to be with the bully even though she knows he's a bastard and falls into the clutches of that bastard (James)" it is said that she is a good friend.... but she doesn't want Snape to defend himself, despite the fact that she knows that , although the marauders DO NOT use dark arts, she continues to defend them just because of that fact and calls Snape "obsessed with the marauders" uff That's a low blow for me.

He then doesn't ask Snape about the werewolf prank, doesn't question him if it's okay, just claims that "he should be grateful to James for saving him" and claims that's what happened, doesn't bother to ask any further questions, indicating that he doesn't really care.

Let's not talk about her lack of intervention in Severus' worst memory, she spent the whole time talking to him instead of asking if Severus was okay, Lily is a popular girl who could have tried to call someone to help her or if she's so smart she could have freed him or called a teacher if she was afraid that Sirius or Peter would attack her, she could even call Remus since he's a prefect! So many things wrong with her

Harry is the product of one of HP's most toxic couples

I don't think that Jily is a good couple, James made fun of Vernon Dursley, the fiancé of Petunia Evans, the sister of his wife Lily, bragging about riches that they do not understand being muggles, Lily does not intervene in that probably, which makes his relationship with Petunia break even more, with this point also James put Lily's life at risk by running away from home knowing that Voldemort is looking for him, he being hidden in an invisibility cloak and I firmly believe that Lily was making excuses for the (childish) behavior of her husband James Potter.

For me it seems like double standards when they say that using magic on muggles is horrible, but when James shows off his wealth to Vernon and Petunia it's okay (if these characters are detestable but they are still muggles, whether we like it or not)

Lily (even though I don't like her) deserves better than James Potter.

Why did you mention Jily in a post about giving my opinion of Snarry?

Simple, the mere creation of Harry would be a trigger for Severus, yes as a fan of Severus I am aware that Harry is not to blame for having been conceived by one of the most toxic couples in the Harry Potter series, but Harry himself would be a trauma trigger for Severus when remembering the face of James Potter, a character who... until now we do not know if he redeemed himself since he died at 21, but we have seen that Severus has a trauma when seeing Harry.

Severus would need a lot of therapy to be able to have Harry as a couple.

It would take a lot of therapy to heal his past traumas, to cope with them and not see Harry as an extension of James Potter but as an individual being.

Entiendo por qué a algunas personas les gusta Snarry: la dinámica de enemigos a amantes es muy interesante, tengo que admitirlo (como alguien a quien le gusta Snirius), pero no me gusta Snarry por estas razones, creo que Severus merece alejarse de la fuente del trauma (Hogwarts, spinner ends, etc.).

[viridianevergarden]

Reading comprehension and critical thinking has really gone out the window hasn’t it? At least in a portion of the fandom.

People are forever stuck under the presumption that Az feels pure lust for Elain and nothing more. That lust suddenly doesn’t go hand in hand with love? That Az is mentally fucked up and should get therapy yet no one else in the IC should? That Az is wrong for naturally shifting his feelings of love from one person to another? That he’s wrong because he didn’t “take a break”? That because of these, Az doesn’t deserve to have love and to love in general?

People are also forever stuck under the presumption that these characters are oh so evil and shouldn’t deserve love at the same time? Take Rhys for a popular example. (When it’s a book series about the ‘villain’ getting the girl. The math isn’t mathing. He’s not even a real, true villain).

No character in ACOTAR is meant to be a saint, I thought everyone knew that. (Oh my god! Morally grey characters when they do morally grey things, shocking😧)

I find most Azriel antis are literally just people who can’t put two and two together. Or just don’t like him for whatever reason they may have. (Everyone has their opinions, yes). But my god, the shallow interpretation and failure to understand his character annoys me ngl. He’s a complex character but he’s not a damn mathematical equation. (He is complex yet linear.)

“He only thought about sex in the bonus chapter.”

As if Elain also wasn’t aroused too? And gave him permission? (Omg, mutual consent! Blasphemy!)

But also the fact that they disregard Az’s noticeable and careful attention to Elain that he has shown throughout the entire series? They disregard purposefully romanticized moments?

“What happened with Elain?”

“What about Elain?”

“I’m getting her back.”

“I can imagine.”

“Would you like me to show you the garden?”

“There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to.”

“This is Truth-teller.”

Shadows gathered around the room like snakes preparing to strike.

“Sit. I’ll take care of it.”

“Wait until everyone is seated before eating.”

“We need to get these chains off her.”

Azriel stood in the doorway, monitoring [Elain]…

“She doesn’t need anything.”

“The Cauldron made you a Seer.”

“Happy Solstice.”

Staying up with her til 3 am, talking about her gardening plans.

The kiss on the cheek.

“Beautiful.”

Countless times of him gently carrying her around.

Him constantly looking out at her garden.

Him spending actual effort to get her a thoughtful gift for solstice.

Facing death itself to get her back immediately by himself.

A laugh so deep and joyous.

Looking at that headache powder every night for over a year without ever using it.

The absence of his shadows in her presence.

“His secret to tell, never hers.”

Need I go on? Azriel is always hyper focused on Elain. Always. If it weren’t for him, Elain would probably be dead or in more trouble than she ever would have been before.

If all Azriel cared about was slipping under Elain’s dress, why did he attend to her so? Why is he hyper aware of her? Why is he so assertive with her needs over anyone else? Even over Nesta? Why would he feel the need to defend her against Nesta, her own sister, if it called for it? Why does he respect her and Lucien’s boundary by refusing to have eyes on Lucien for the sake of their privacy? Why was he the only one to show initiative over anyone else to get Elain back to safety now rather than later, by himself, even if it meant certain death?

But yeah, all he wants is her body. Right? Yeah, that makes sense…

I’m just saying. No main SJM character would ever go through so much effort just to bed another character. Thats not SJM’s style nor is it logical in the slightest.

But oh yes, he feels entitled to her and her body…

…Entitled?

Wrong E word.

Envy ≠ Entitlement.

Feeling Envious of the love that his brothers have? Of the bonds they have with the other sisters? Yet he’s the only one left all by his lonesome? He feels left out. Third wheeled. And rationally so. He’s happy for his brothers but envious all the same. (As if Cassian didn’t feel the same but no one said shit about him did they?)

I’ve said this in another post too but he is NOT looking at Elain and going “she should be mine.”

He doesn’t even think he deserves her for freaks sake.

Rhys doesn’t really know Azriel. Cassian doesn’t really know Azriel. No one truly knows Azriel. The only one who has truly understood some semblance of Azriel is Elain. Even when his heart and feelings are so incredibly gated off from everyone.

So that word —entitlement— that people keep throwing around from Rhys’ lips is completely misguided.

The sheer mischaracterization makes me see red 💀

But back to the point, with obvious and mutual romantic feelings, being horny is normal. (This is also an adult romantasy series, shocking that there’s sexual content).

I’ll die on that hill for Az and Elain.

I don’t get how it can be this hard, but maybe it’s just me.

[kaledya]

Hello !

I will just throw a "THANK YOU OMGODS", in general for everything I saw and then thank you personnality in each msg🌸

Aaaaah there is so much things to say *crying and trying to figure it out*

• The organisation and plot

I'm happy you like the plotline of this first season !

New ideas by talking is the best, I'm glad it work for you !

_

So, I think you are right for killing Valentino to save Angel, but let's not kill his soul. I'm saying this because if in season 2 of Hazbin Hotel actual show we have a backstory reveals about this villain, it will be nice to explore it in Arencha Amendable also.

So what if : Charlie kills Valentino with her poison tail, like you said but it just kill him over and over again and just block him for regenerate so he just disappear for a while. (If in the actual show Vivzie tell us things about him, he can come back, we figure it out is background in the ff and then we decide what to do with him. If there is no backstory about him, we let him dead and we don't care anymore.)

Tell me what you think of this alternative!🌸

_

I agree with you for including relationships in the arcs itself, some cute interactions and not a separate story can be nice ! I think it something that could happen easily after the big episode 6 action and drama !

Thank you for the advice !

_

For episode 6, all we be explain it time *disappeared in smoke* But I need to break Lolicia a little, but don't worry its my baby, if she suffers its for a logical reason! (The sentence that doesn't feel better at all ahah)

_

I have an epic idea for their encounter (Constantine and Lolicia) ! Ah ! I'm so excited !

_

Yes the Japanese festival is a big activity (will took 6 months in the story to prepare/ until the end of season 1) that Charlie propose and it was in the episode 4.4, she has a meeting to talk about it with Vaggie, Pentious, Alastor and Lolicia!

In act one : multiple little activities for the group to know eachothers better.

In act two : one big activity (artistic/organisation), where everyone create what they like link to festival stands + actually have important guests (Overlords) so that Charlie can show the progress in friendship of the team.

_

Oh yes !! I forgot that we had to discard Lucifer if Constantine would be crowned so soon. I understand, "bye animatic short coronation ! I loved you!" Ahah

_

• Lucifer discussion

The Constantine and Lucifer relationship being like Shifu and Tai is wild but I understand perfectly i think (love kung fu panda)

Constantine's parents pushed him to be this perfect heir destined to rules seven layers of Hell and protect his little sister. This destroyed his "humanity/softness" in him.

And at the end Lucifer kind of look at his son like "this is what I made of you..." and Constantine is just pissed because he just want his dad, the king, to be proud of him even if he is not a dreamer like him, even if he is harsher now. And Constantine would be repeating his words like "yes this is what you made of me !" *voice broke, tail lashes in anger*

But actually the family just want to be great again but like there is some problems to solve first (like problems that can be solve with therapy and others like Roo ahah).

And Lucifer just need some damn time, his life is like running a school full of psychopaths kids and nothings goes as he plans and Lilith is not there to keep him straight and his son is something so great he is surprise that his education worked perhaps too well and his daughter wants to redeemed the damn psychopaths kids.

Give him a break 🤣 poor guy, 10 000 of nonsense!

And yes I know what is Oroboros, the serpent that eat his own tail in a never ending circle, its used a lot in series !

And for Lucifer corruption design, I'm glad you like the idea by the ways ! I will try to draw it to give you a visual of what I have in mind. But I also like a lot your Lucifer with his golden scars (when he fall with Lilith) like burns. So I will try to mix it and show you.

_

• Constantine new golden accent

Hell yes ! YEESSS ! I love the new white and black and gold outfit too ! I just imagine him with a crazy scientist blouse but like with gold ahaha. I adore the little braids with rings and the new eyes. And the hair ! Slay. My favorite part even if we can see it directly is the gold makeup under the eyes (as you saw i draw it in the fashion battle ahah)

So great!🌸🌸

_

• Eve/Roo and Lilith

I think Lilith and Lucifer knows Roo, the embodiment of evil, the corruption, but I don't know if they know that Eve is the host of Roo at the moment (and its probably what surprise Lilith when she saw her little sister after 10 000 years and its the surprise that make her lost her battle and be emprisonned) i dont know if that make sense ?

Roo/Eve is definitely very strong, for sure ! In the ff, Abaddon is her guardian and needs to keep her in his womb/Hell but perhaps Roo find a way to go on Earth with already crazy human and corrupted them more like Alastor maybe ? But herself she can't get out of Hell, just part of her like a illness.

Poor Eve, she is so sweet (I love your design of her) and so damaged and in the ff very cursed. But she still try to fight, as we saw in the short story she can sometimes find consciousness again. So she is still redeemable under all the corruption of Roo who tries to keep her in control most of the time.

Arencha Amendable, Eve, indeed? Ahah (bad pun 1)

_

I like that little angry dialogue between Eve and Lucifer ! And honestly, Eve is right Lucifer could understand her if only :

  - he saw Constantine and Charlie kill eachother   - be possessed by Roo 24/7

I don't know if she is suppose to love Michael or Adam by the way ? I'm little lost with the AU and swap AU !

But I think if Lucifer would be taken by Roo (just an hypothesis) it will be chaos because Roo would be king and she would transform this Hell into the Hell we used to see (with legions and warriors ect ect) the OPPOSITE of Charlie's plan ahah. A mess.

Yes for everything you said. I like it.

_

Also the Giovanni, and Constantine looking for his mom (not us having the same idea !!! Love it) i will talk about it in a separate message. Because AH jdjdjd.

Also, I'm so happy you figure it out more about Constantine and Serenity relationship! And Serenity background, now I can write her with more details. I think i will feature it at the end of Overlords Meeting ARC, just before episode 6.

  - Alastor tries to know why Serenity defended him in the meeting against the Vees   - Serenity says "whatever ! i do what I want peace" and perhaps she says "I can't stay too long Radio Demon, some of us are busy" she smiles and *disappeared*.

That is a transition, to show Serenity going to see Constantine, make report of the situation at Overlords Meetings, [and also introcuticing the Giovanni/my OC (assistant) i create for the duo djdjd, in next chapter]

Anyway, and this is where we understand the dynamics between Constantine and Serenity that you explained. YES ! its all coming together. But I will still wait for you to agree or not the idea i got for Giovanni, (i have questions!!)

_

I'm glad you liked Abaddon interactions with his brothers and sisters !

And don't worry, Abaddon and Lucifer will figure it out. I think because Lucifer has this idea of creating another part in Hell, he will ask the autorisation of Abaddon who will be like "no ? If there is seven layers is for a reason" and Lucifer be like "damn it ! But I want that circus with a pool a ducks... *sad face*". And perhaps by talking they will brush some important unspoken business about what they feels.

_

And no, thank you ! I love talking about all that !🌸🌸 and you don't have to worry about asking questions, its just that I don't want to forget anything and I like things making sense ahah for you and for me !🌸

Don't worry, long message is a fact and not an option anymore and I like it ahah. But its me you should say sorry, I don't want to take all the place in your blog !

Have a nice day too (I'm coming back though)🤣

I'M SO GLAD THAT I COULD MAKE YOU HAPPY!!!AND I'M SO LOVED THAT YOU LIKED EVERYTHING!!🌸🌸

I seriously think you have a quality writing and the planning was very good, it's normal for me to like it.🛐

Yes! And talking about new ideas is always fun!!

--

Yes, I wasn't planning on killing Valentino, it's exactly like he has Stage 4 cancer.He will suffer with poison, just like he made Angel suffer for years.He will wish to die But he won't die.

In that arc, at first I thought that Angel would stand against Valentino and then Husk would intervene in the incident. Charlie was getting there at the climax of the incident.I did want to do this because Angel wasn't a baby who needed to be saved, he was on his own for his own freedom. Only Charlie will be the one to break the chains so he can move and defend himself. And Charlie wanted Angel to choose the punishment of valentino too

So Valentino's punishment was Angle's decision.

I think I like the alternative an lot!! It'll be kind of like a decaying man, Valentino won't die , and if we need him we can use him again, if not, we can prepare the fire.

---

I'M SO EXCITED TO SEE EPISODE 6!!

But yes, the relationships that develop between characters who participate in story arcs generally seem to be easier in terms of writing and feel more natural.

--

God PLEASE GIVE ME YOUR SPOILERS JUST GIVE ME THE NAME WHO SHOULD I SACRIFICE FOR YOU!!!

All kidding aside, I'm seriously excited for ep6 (smoke won't work next time 🤺)

This words did not comfort me. I am also kinda a writer and there is nothing more fun than giving trauma on characters.But as a reader it's just painful to read this

I hope and pray that nothing bad happens to Lolicia.🙏

AND YES THIS WORD DIDN'T FEEL GOOD

"they will suffer, but they will suffer for good reasons, for character development, FOR STORY!!! we are against unreasonable suffering🦅" - Probably Marquisev

Anyway I just hope for the best for Lolicia *cries on the floor*

--

EPIC ENCOUNTER??? PLEASE GIVE MORE INFORMATION

"MARQUISEV DROP THE CONSTANTINE'S AND LOLICA'S LORE AND MY LIFE IS YOURSSSSSS "- in a Viking sound.

--

I seriously think the Japanese festival will be a very fun and relaxing arc.And I already love the details you wrote.Slice-of-life episodes are great in such fantasy/action TV series!

And I can't wait to read the dialogues at the festival!

---

Kung fu panda is a really great series! (Movies 1&2 are still my favorite! Shen and Tai lung are seriously great villians)

Yes, I liken their relationship because the purpose of shi-fu was to make Tai lung strong was not bad he wanted to see his son become a dragon warrior, and this caused Tai lung to destroy himself for years just to make his father proud.

"ALL I DID I DID YOU TO MAKE YOU PROUD TELL ME HOW PROUD YOU'RE SHIFU TELLL MEEEEEEE"

Constantine was the firstborn male heir, the prince of Hell.One day he would be the one to rule the throne If Lilith and Lucifer had not raised him this way, this would have been the end of Constantine and Charlie.Because a weak king would be eaten by the hyenas in hell.

And Lucifer and Lilith were aware of Roo, so they wanted to prepare Constsntine for that too.

And the boy Constantine is determined to tear himself to pieces just to make his family proud and gain their appreciation.

Years passed and Constantine became what he is now because of The way is is raised (+Plus Constantine was already someone whose emotionality was slowly corrupting due to his intelligence (Lucifer and Lilith only dug the hole deeper)

Yes, he was the prince he was supposed to be, but the child inside him had been dead for a long time.And yes, now there was a perfect heir who could rule hell, there was someone who could protect Charlie, but as you said, the humanity in Constantine died. If there's still some humanity in his now, it's thanks to Charlie. Things would have been much worse without her.

Lilith and Lucifer did not follow this path with Charlie after seeing what Constantine had become.They couldn't do that anyway. Charlie's personality was never suitable for such a task. And in this way, in fact, one of the sibling symbolized the sun in Hell and the other symbolized the moon, while Charlie was hope, Constsntine was cruel thruth

If Charlie was a shield, Constsntine was a sword, a kind of balance for hell.

Lilith even made such a speech to Constantine when he was young.

-

Yes, Lucifer thought his set-up was right, but he knows that his son's current state is his own fault.

And he really regretted it, there was even a scene where Lucifer was telling Constantine that he could relax and He was telling him not to put such a burden on himself, even the strongest people could fall, And something like that,

Hearing this, Constantine seriously couldn't control his anger for a moment.

I made such a doodle while watching Tai Lung and Shifu's battle.

And the dialogue you wrote is seriously true! Now Constantine doesn't care as much about his father's approval as he did when he was a child.She doesn't even talk to Lucifer unless she has to But he still loves his father deep down he still has good memories with him.But Con's personality isn't one that would care about something like going and mending family ties.

After visiting Charlie for the last time in the series, he was going to Lucifer and talking to him.

"You have two options, Father either you'll put aside your pride and go to your daughter and listen to her as her father, not as the king of hell, or you will not only lose your son, but also your beloved daughter. Make your choice Father. And chose it well Until then, I hope you have fun in your eternal loneliness."

And yes, not only is the dialogue you wrote great, but the tail detail is really great.As much as Constantine is a poker face, his tail sometimes reflects his emotions.

When he gets scared, he always wraps his tail around his legs.When it gets angry, it makes a rattlesnake noise with his tail or it lashes his tail very fast.

If he is very happy, he starts to shake it.

Yes, in essence, it is not something they cannot solve, they need to sit down, talk and agree.

There's nothing therapy can't solve. UWU But Roo might cause some trouble

--

LMAO THE EXAMPLE YOU GIVE ABOUT LUCIFER'S LIFE IS VERY TRUE!!EXACTLY LIKE THIS I'm begging you, someone please give this man a holiday.

Dad?

Yes dear?

I want I want to redeemed those psychopath kids

Oh Father.... *Dies inside*

This man needs a holiday in Mardives and sun, beach, sea and greenery.Tired of chaos and blood

--

I'm seriously looking forward to the corrupted Lucifer design!!I have full confidence that you will make a really interesting design.And I'm so glad you loved the burn scars on my Lucifer design!!

-

I'M VERY HAPPY THAT YOU LIKE IT!

I'm so glad you like the gold theme!!

And I'm glad you like the new white themed outfit, it's probably something Constsntine will wear to very serious meeting.

LMAO it's seriously a fun sight to imagine.

I'm so glad you loved the rings in her hair and yes, the gold sequins/makeup under his eyes.💅💅

And yes, you drew the gold detail so good in the fashion battle comic! 🤌

And I have a question, do you think Con's hair looks better in a ponytail or braided/loose, I can't decide?

--

I think it makes sense because if Roo/Eve hasn't come and talked to Lucifer before, I don't think they would know that Roo's host is Eve.

And yes, even though Lilith is an arch-rival in the war, Roods is very strong (assuming that she gets her power from the existing evil). Lilith's slightest hesitation will make her lose the war. And maybe before Lilith disappeared, she got suspicious about something and started doing research, and that's how she went after Roo. She stated that she was going to go on a mission for a while, but she didn't return.So, it is not clear whether he left of his own volition or something happened to him.(It is mentioned that she has some kind of duties to do, just like in canon)

But it's just an idea, tell me what you think!!

Yes, Roo is like a plague. As long as she stays in her laboratory, she does not cause much destruction, but when she goes out and starts infecting people, she becomes the real danger.

But luckily for now Abaddon can keep her in hell.

I'm so glad you liked Eve's design.And yes, especially during the time she spent in Eden, she was a very kind-hearted and sweet woman.

Yes, even though it is very deep, there is still an old eve there.Maybe there is still hope for him, who knows

And yes, Roo's chains are really strong right now They usually prevent Eve from going out.

--

I'm glad you liked the dialogue.And that's exactly it, in short, for Lucifer is very difficult to understand her.

-

Hmm, that's a bit complicated.

But the difference in Swap Au is that Michael and Eve have moved from friendship to love because of Lucifer not rebell so they have time for This event and

.After a lot of events that happened, things got very complicated (it would take a long time to explain this, so there is no need for details, after all, this is the story of Swap au.)

They were really close friends in the normal AU, but before they got to the love stage, Lucifer started the war and by God's order, Eve and Adam were banned from the Garden.After that, Michael and Eve never saw each other again.

There used to be a concept of the two of them realized that they loved each other after the war, even though they would never see each other again, but I thought it was unnecessary.I decided not to use this. (İdk)

She didn't love him when he was in the garden, but they learned to love each other in exile.After all, they were husband and wife and they needed to start a family.

I hope I helped!!

---

This is a really interesting scenario.And in a scenario where Roo takes over Lucifer, it would be inevitable for her to take 100% control of Hell.Yes, Hell would be a place ready for a complete war.

And yes, such a scenario is probably something that could be Charlie's worst nightmare.

--

Thank you!! This new idea really makes sense.Because if these characters had met on screen, it probably wouldn't have felt natural because building a friendship between the two would have happened faster that way.Also, sweet little short stories come to my mind.In these seven years, Constantine has become a little softer thanks to Serenity And he realizes he likes wolf cubs

Really can't wait to see it. I'm very curious about both ep 6 and the future. Your writing is really great.Every evening, around eight o'clock, I'm updateing AO3 whenever I can.

you're blessing me And I haven't been able to review it yet but the last overlord episode OMG It was like watching an episode of GOT God dialouges it was so tense and I love politics mystery intrigue EVERYTHING AMAZING YOU COOKED SO MUCH!!!

I'm blessing 🛐🛐🛐

---

LMAO yes, there will probably be a scene like that, when Alastor asks for an answer from Serenity, and end up Serenity will only give him more question and leaveing from there.

"I wish you luck, Radio Demon, with your little cleanup mission and your dog branch with Vox. But for now, our meeting has to end early, you know, some are after The bigger Fish. or snake if I get specific.

And I really can't wait to see Giovanni and Hürren after Serenity reports. Seriously, Giovanni and Hürrem seem like they will be a very fun duo to read.

I'm so excited to see how you write Serenity and Constantine's interactions.I really loved how you wrote the tension between Serenity and Lolica and Alastor in the last overlord episode, masterpiece 🤌🤌

--

It was really fun to read the dialogue you wrote between Abaddon and Lucifer lmao

Good hmph, then I'll make myself a circus full of plastic ducks - Lucifer.

Abaddon- ?????

But all jokes aside, it makes me very happy to hear that there is a possibility that things can get better between them.

By the way, what is Abaddon's rank among siblings in terms of age?

All places on my blog are at your service, madam🛐🛐

Please feel free to fill in those spaces with your writing, you blessing me🤌

And yes, paragraph-like texts are now our factory setting.I wonder how long our correspondence would have been if it were a fanfic.

And thank you so much again for answering the questions!!

I wish you a good day and take care!!🫂❤️❤️❤️

[fullscoreshenanigans]

When and how did you get into TPN? For me I discovered TPN in 2021 through the Fandom page where I spoiled myself about Conny and some other stuff which I forgot and in 2023 I purchased the first two volumes of the manga and I fell in love. And the rest is ancient history!

Sorry about my little history lesson!

You're good! (If anyone else wants to share how they got into the series on this post I'd been down for that too)

My sister and a friend recommended the anime to me at some point (I want to say after it was on US Netflix) as something I might like. I did not pay any attention to this at all lol. They did lord this over me when it became one of my favorite series. But I managed to avoid all spoilers for it other than the orphanage being a farm, which wasn't a big deal to me since it happens so early on.

Fast forward to March 2021, within the ballpark of a day or two of the season 2 finale airing in Japan. I finished watching another series on Netflix, and it recommended TPN to me. I thought, I vaguely recognize this title, the description sounds interesting, and the thumbnail looks cute, so why not check out the first episode.

(dmotta3's blind reaction lives rent free in my head and inspired this post)

I got to the end of episode 6 and realized that my idea to just check out one episode at 1am was terrible because it was now 4am. But I had the day off from work, so after going to bed and doing everything else I needed to do that day I wrapped up the rest of season 1 because was hooked. I had to know what the fuck is up with these little babies with the mental fortitude and emotional maturity to handle this fantastical dystopia they found themselves in so well. And the final six episodes delivered and then some for me.

Me within watching the first ten minutes of S1e01: oh this kid with the black emo hair is going to be my favorite :)

Me upon watching S1e11: LKJFSDLKFLKDFJL OMFG?? OM?FG?? 🥴🙃🥴 THERAPY! THERAPY FOR A THOUSAND YEARS FOR YOU!!!

I noticed the second season wasn't on Netflix, so while avoiding as many spoilers as I could I took a peek around and discovered that a lot of people were unhappy with season 2. I asked some friends who had watched it if they liked it, and they said it was all right, but not as good as season 1. So what I ended up doing was figuring out where the first season left off in the manga, and then read a few chapters before watching the corresponding parts in the anime to see where it really diverged. By the time I got to the bunker in the anime and saw there was no dad to go in it, I dropped it entirely to focus on reading the manga. It took roughly four days from me putting on the anime on a whim to me reading the bonus chapters and epilogue, and I was initially kind of bummed about it for reasons I've discussed here.

(Chart I made to explain to a friend group my personal enjoyment of the series by arc because it's one of the silly things we do with each other, while avoiding some spoilers by removing the names of the last few arcs. I'd rank Cuvitidala and the human world arc a bit higher now and Return to Grace Field arc lower, but the rest is still largely the same.)

But even with my gripes with the series, it had nestled itself inside my heart and mind, and I was endeared to it enough to buy the blu-ray of season 1 and import the soundtrack.

Another crucial aspect for me was that @1000sunnygo was translating the mystic code book around this time as well as a plethora of other content that wasn't receiving official English releases. This kept me engaged with this silly little shounen that had endeared me so deeply, as I had new official content and information to look forward to every now and then in addition to latching on to some fanfics that proved to be foundational for my personal interpretation/enjoyment of the series. It also helped explain some of the issues I had with it, one of them being the pacing toward the end due to Shirai trying to salvage his health after being in serialized publishing for almost four years while still maintaining his sense of artistic integrity by ending the series on his own terms. I don't think this frees said choices from critique, but it helped me personally accept them more.

And then after almost ten months after first watching season 1 on a whim, I made this blog, though I didn't really start using it until February 2022. It was a first for me since I usually just keep everything on main in a random hodgepodge, but the brainrot wasn't going away, and I couldn't put my mutuals through another major interest, so here we are roughly 2.5 years later.

[pitroig]

Mrs. Maisel: it’s ok that you’re not perfect.

I can only describe the latest episode of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel as charming and intelligent. I believe it has perfectly encapsulated, in its pacing, scene selection, and motifs, the reasons why this series will remain embroidered in our minds like a heart in bright red thread. Additionally, I think it manages to explain the storytelling of this season and tie up the loose ends we have seen in Midge's character over the past 8 episodes, which have angered a part of the audience.

And I think that all the explanations lie in those four minutes of monologue that she steals from Gordon Brown's pettiness, and with it, steals the spotlight from all the men who have taken it from her until now.

- Is Midge a "bad mother"? Probably. Very likely, in fact. This last episode shows us a Midge so focused on her success and career that she doesn't scold her children even when they have clearly done something very wrong (pretending to be sick and insulting their elders is wrong no matter how you look at it). In the monologue itself, she anticipates that her children will end up in therapy complaining about her, as we know actually happens, and she accepts it as part of the evolution of parent-child relationships. But even more revealing is the fact that she pretends to forget her children's names and then remembers them, ah, when the monologue is already over. - Is Midge a worse character for being a "bad mother"? No! On the contrary! I think it makes perfect sense in terms of character development because from the very beginning, all Midge wants is to be the center of attention. Fame. In the Catskills, always winning awards and competing. At her own wedding, giving a monologue. Maybe she never wanted to be a mother; what she wanted was to be herself. But what she was raised for was to be a good wife. Only when she sheds that burden, only when Abe sees her exactly as she is, does she understand that it's the layers of convention that have been dimming her shine. Midge loves an audience. When years later, she has a free Tuesday, and we hope she uses that Tuesday to tie up one of the loose ends: Will she go see her children? Grandchildren? Her parents' grave? Joel's grave? No. She wants to work. She needs the adrenaline rush of the show. She needs to be the center of attention. And there are only two people in the world who understand that. One is Susie. The other, of course, is Lenny Bruce.

- Lenny Bruce. I don't want to spoil the devastating opening scene or ruin the smile of the last scene they share together, but I'll comment that in the monologue, Midge says that dates, boyfriends, lovers become cannon fodder for the comedic. She does it with her own ex-husband, right in front of him, and she will do it later with other ex-husbands. But she never does it with Lenny Bruce because Lenny Bruce, the one she doesn't want to see when he's no longer himself, is the guiding star of Midge, and she will never, ever dare to touch him for fear of breaking him.

- So, does she love Lenny or does she love Joel? Despite the undeniable chemistry Midge and Lenny share, she can't love Lenny because, in human terms, there isn't much he can offer Midge. Joel, on the other hand, despite his many faults and fragile male ego, is still the guy who cares about Midge, and above all, the guy who always sees Midge as a shining star, always the center of attention in his life. And in the end, that's what she has always wanted, right? I think it's okay for Midge Maisel to be selfish, to lose focus, and to be clumsy when it comes to handling her ambitions and her life. We're all doing the best we can, and chances are, we're messing up all the time.  It isn’t a show about a woman who has it all. It is about a broken woman who has lost the only thing that gave her life a sense of purpose and identity. It was about another woman marginalized by societal norms, ignored and living in the shadows of sticky-floored bars. And how together, they found a safe space for them to be, their reason for being in comedy—not in motherhood, marriage, or a desk job—but in building this space, they broke all the codes and rules. 

No matter the cost.

*Please note that the term "bad mother" used here is loosely defined. I am referring to widely recognized social conventions regarding the expectations and stereotypes associated with motherhood.

[punkypiscesell-writes]

chapter 5

Joel Miller x gn!/f!reader

series masterlist - chapter 4

summary: After a few weeks since you last saw Joel, you end up bumping into Ellie. What you don’t expect is to finally reach your breaking point.

rating: mature

chapter warnings: angst, hurt and comfort, anxiety, panic attack, grief, descriptions of violence typical for the TLOU world, no use of y/n, Ellie and Joel are the kindest and caring, everyone needs therapy.

word count: 7.6k

notes: Here we are, at the end of part 1. Thank you everyone who has read so far <3 Like with the last chapter, this is heavily angsty but I promise, it’s only uphill from here! The next chapter will be out in two weeks, as I’m taking a writing break to finish part 2.

divider by cafekitsune

It has been raining for a couple of days. You’re holed up in your house and the walls feel like they’re starting to fall on you. You haven’t seen anyone or heard from anyone and the longer you’re alone, the more you want to just disappear.

Dan released you from stable duty because some teenagers wanted to come take care of the horses for a while and your rotation says that you’re supposed to be working at the community garden next anyway. But that was two weeks ago. And you haven’t been able to leave your home.

You’re not sure how long it has been since you were at the cliffs. You just know that since then you haven’t been able to sleep, being afraid of the nightmares and new panic attacks. You’re afraid of them all the time, bracing yourself for the fall and loss of control. You can feel it simmering somewhere inside, ready to slap you across the face and make you lose yourself. You relive the moment at the cliffs every day and just the thought of the panic you felt is enough to make you hide in your house, behind closed curtains and darkness.

And if communication wasn’t hard enough already, it has now become almost impossible. You don’t like to look people in the eyes and being in crowded places makes your skin crawl. You can’t even imagine opening your mouth and hearing your own voice. The more afraid of your own reactions you’ve become, the easier it has been to just stay at home and not keep in touch with anyone.

You’ve had panic attacks for a long time and you’ve always been able to somehow make sense of them. You’re almost used to the intense fear by now even though it’s not pleasant. The trick was to always reason with the irrational side of your brain.

After being holed up in your house alone, they’ve gotten so much worse. And it’s not even the attack itself, it’s the shame surrounding it. It gnaws in your head, making you think things that you’ve thought to be untrue. Or at least you hope to not be true. And when you’ve tried to calm yourself down, your head has just filled with more chaos, drowning all of your attempts at finding quietness.

This panic attack at the cliffs managed to surprise you, and how different it was from the ones you’re used to. For a long time you just felt your body tensing up, your breathing getting harder that made you light headed and your head spewing fear into your whole body, making it shake.

This new episode wasn’t like the ones when you weren’t able to move and you’re glad that you haven’t had those after getting to Jackson.

But this one panic attack was like going through a night terror and realising that it’s not ending. It just kept on going, it keeps on resurfacing and you can’t let go of it. You’re dreading to experience it again.

The scariest part?

You can’t feel a thing.

It’s like you don’t have a body anymore, just a shell that somehow keeps you alive.

You don’t feel the wind whipping in from the open window. You don’t feel the heat when you keep your hand too close to the stove. You don’t feel water on your skin or if it’s cold or warm when you take a shower.

You don’t feel your feelings like you used to either.

They seem distant and strange because you know how you should be feeling, but those emotions just don’t become reality. You just are, floating through days without really existing in your life right now.

Your thoughts are spiralling once again. You’re certain that you’re not a good member of the community. People must hate you. No one is going to want to share a house with you, no one knows you and even if they did, they’re not going to like living with you and your… problems.

And Joel? He must loathe you. The way you poured your panic attack on him was unacceptable. How could you let him see it, how could you let yourself be so weak?

The town doctor hasn’t been able to help you, how could anything or anyone else help you either? You’re so sure that you’re broken that nothing can change your mind. Maybe they’ll just kick you out and your head will shut up.

Maybe you should just be out of this town so no one has to wonder what is really going on with you.

At least you haven’t been spending their food or supplies since you’ve just been living on water and porridge. Your cupboards and fridge emptied of everything else almost a few days ago.

You’re not sure how long you stare out the window but the night turns into a dull, grey morning. And then even greyer day.

You listen to the drumming of the rain against the roof and it’s almost hypnotising. Something in you makes you want to go out and get your clothes wet. At least you’d do something else than just listen to the incessant sound of your brain beating you up.

You wrap a flannel jacket over the t-shirt that you’ve worn for the past four days and don’t bother changing out of your sweatpants that you’ve had on night and day since you realised all your other pants had to be washed.

It’s almost funny that no one has checked up on you and when you think about it, your brain almost short circuits from the possibilities your negative thoughts throw your way.

You wrote to your doctor that you’re better, that you’ve gotten friends like he wanted you to and that all meetings with him would be unnecessary. You left the note into his post box and since he hasn’t contacted you, it probably worked.

At the same time you left a note to a worker from the community garden. You told her you’re not feeling well and need to take a little time off. Back then you thought it’d be just a couple of days and then you’d show up. But the more time has passed, the harder it is to let them know that you still need time to recover.

Maybe they don’t care about you and your help, maybe that’s why no one has checked up on you.

You press your hands into tight fists until your nails make half-moon shapes against your palms. Once outside you’re met with the freshness of the mountain air. It fills your chest and you cough as your lungs get  used to the cold.

You see no one which comforts you to start walking. You’re going to avoid the town centre just in case, but it seems like you’ll be left alone.

You don’t mean to walk for more than a few minutes, but you end up walking to the other side of the town. Your head has been light and dizzy and you don’t know if you can trust your unsteady legs but here you still are, further than you had imagined going.

Your clothes are completely soaked through but you don’t really mind. You can’t feel it anyway, not the cold or the wetness clinging to your skin. And at least now your brain is thinking why the hell you can’t feel a thing anymore instead of all the negative, fictional scenarios it so enjoys creating.

You’re already on your way back home when you hear a grunt and someone cursing under their breath. Your first instinct is to run away, hide, not make any contact. But when you see a girl wet from the rain, pulling on a small wagon filled paint canisters, that’s gotten stuck in the mud, you decide against it.

Ellie.

You approach her slowly, not really knowing what to expect. What’s she doing with all the paint? When she hears your wet footsteps, she looks up and her face lights up.

“Hey!” She looks genuinely happy to see you standing right in front of her. “Can you help me with this? The wheels are shit and I can’t get this fucking thing to move.” Her cursing takes you aback even though it shouldn’t surprise you.

It just seems like other people in town don’t use as much curse words and she is making sure to use all of them to fill that void. You move to push the wagon while she pulls and together you manage to free it from the mud. Ellie wipes some lose, wet strands of her hair from her forehead and she beams at you.

“Thanks! Will you help me take these home as well? I know there are some puddles that I’m not really looking forward to pass,” she waves her hand towards the street and pulls the wagon with her, making you follow her.

She just smiles at you and almost on instinct you walk next to her. You get winded from the faster pace but try to hide it from her. You look at the paint canisters and then at her, who is eyeing you with curiosity.

You hope you lift your brows at her in question but you’re not sure if that actually happens. She seems to understand your question through your expression though. 

“I’m renovating a garage for myself,” she tells you and you can hear the hints of pride in her voice. “Yeah, Joel and Tommy have been doing the building, but they’re both out on patrol and I got bored at home. Maria has been around as well, but she wants to be careful with the baby and all, so it’s just me today.” She explains it all slowly, like she’s trying to fill a quiet space between the two of you.

You’re kind of grateful she’s doing all the talking and isn’t pressuring you to speak. You do catch her watching you a few times though when the silence falls on you both and your panting comes through the sound of the rain.

She doesn’t say anything about it, or anything else for that matter, and you keep on going in the heavy rain towards her house. Maybe Joel hasn’t told her about your weak moment at the cliff which you’d be grateful for. That way there’d really only be one person who knows what a mess you are and others wouldn’t know about any of it.

You could just quietly slip away from this place and no one would miss you.

It's weird to notice that you’d like to talk with her, ask her things and hear how she’s been settling into Jackson, but you can’t make yourself talk. Your throat feels tight and your mood isn’t helping. Ellie leads you through a side gate into a garden and you help her pull the wagon to a run-down looking garage.

“Come inside, you can warm up there,” she offers when you look around and take in the backyard of a two-storey house.

It has seen better days, but it also looks inviting, like someone’s making a home of it. There’s a single light in one of the windows, beaming out warmly like a light from a lighthouse. Ellie leads you to a back porch and inside through a mudroom that now works as a laundry room as well. Ellie pulls her shoes off and you follow her example. Your wet socks squelch against the floor.

“I’ll get you something to change into.” You try to huff a no in response but she’s already on her way through the house and you’re left alone to catch your breath.

With your wet feet you make your way into the kitchen. It’s clean except for the few items on counters. There’s a mug and a plate next to the sink and a bowl turned upside down on a towel next to them. A basket full of fresh carrots wait next to the stove. And a pile of clean towels are sitting closest to the door, probably waiting to be put away.

You run your numb hand against the island counter and walk slowly further into the house. The wood floors creak softly and you hear Ellie rummaging somewhere upstairs, her footsteps thudding against the floor. The house looks comfortable and warm, even in this gray and cold lighting.

You look into the living room and see a soft, worn couch, an armchair and a bookshelf. Even your house doesn’t have a bookshelf but this house does and it’s full of books.

You get closer to the titles and recognise a few. You’ve never been much of a reader, but your bro—

Your breathing catches in your throat and you squeeze your eyes shut when your head starts swimming. You grab the shelf with your hands and try to stay up, but your legs seem to buckle at their own accord.

“Hey,” you hear Ellie’s soft voice call you and you whip around, tears making everything around you blurry.

She looks at you with wide eyes, her hands full of clothes. She has already changed out her own wet outfit into a more comfortable one, a hoodie and a new pair of jeans. She comes closer and you clutch your chest, catching your breath.

You try to make yourself calm down but it’s even harder now that your head is laughing at your and you don’t feel any physical feelings happening in your body. She stops and leaves space between the two of you, her face softening even more until a small smile crinkles her eyes.

“I had to raid Joel’s dresser, I hope these are at least a bit more comfortable than those,” she nods at you and you follow her gaze to look at the drenched clothes on you. She’s clearly trying to distract you from your uneasy thoughts.

“You can change in the bathroom over there,” she gives you the clothes before she swings her arm towards a closed door. You walk past her with wobbly legs and make your way to the downstairs toilet.

You wipe at your face furiously once the door closes behind you and you force yourself to think of other things. How the mirror is stained but clearly kept clean. The stacked toilet paper rolls in the corner. Next to the sink there’s a small plant in a clay pot that is cracked and barely holding the soil in. But the plant looks like it’s thriving.

You eye at the dark blue t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants she had given you and start to peel your clothes from your body. They stick to your skin and there’s actual water dripping to the floor when you pull everything off.

You intentionally breathe very slowly, in through your nose, holding it for a few seconds before pushing all air from your lungs through your mouth. Your heart seems to calm down until there’s only that dull, numb nothingness left.

The shirt seems to swallow you and the pants hang loosely on you, but they’re not wet and that’s everything that matters.

Even though you can’t feel the cold, you can still get ill. And that’s the last thing you want at this point. There are a pair of socks as well and you put them on, even though they’re definitely too big on your feet.

This doesn’t seem right, wearing Joel’s clothes when he’s not even here telling you that you can. You don’t know where you stand with him, but he probably doesn’t want to have anything to do with you.

He hasn’t checked up on you either.

In a way it hurts, but you don’t even know the man. It would be best to just forget about him, if it wasn’t for the embarrassment that prickles your skin. You look at yourself in the mirror and don’t recognise the person looking at you through the reflection. Your eyes, your skin, your face, they all belong to someone you don’t know. The clothes definitely hang on your frame loosely and it only adds to your discomfort.

“Well don’t you look pretty!” Ellie smiles when you open the door and carry your wet clothes in your arms. You don’t know what to do with her words, stopping right in your tracks while her smile only grows.

“Let’s hang them up to dry,” she points at the bundle against your chest and leads you to the mudroom where she takes your clothes one piece at a time to hang them on hangers.

“You hungry? Thirsty?” She asks when she’s done and you shake your head lightly.

“Okay, are you ready to paint then?” Her face lights up and you can’t say no to her even though you’d like to.

You should’ve just turned around when Ellie got home and you definitely should’ve been somehow more insistent on not letting her give you dry clothes. You should’ve just left and gone back home. Now it looks like you’re stuck here with Ellie, who wants your help.

She must see the inner battle going on in your head from your face because her smile drops just the slightest.

“You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to, just keep me company,” she tells you. She bends to put on her wellies and you move to put on your wet shoes when she throws you another pair of boots. They’re way too big for you, must be Joel’s, but you don’t seem to find any other option either.

When you get into the garage, you’re met with a worksite.

Ellie walks you through it all, introducing you to the unfinished kitchenette, with uninstalled cabinets and sink. She opens the minifridge door and you both look inside like there’s something to see, even though it’s just a couple of empty shelves and an old, yellowed stain at the bottom. She insists she has washed the fridge already. She just needs to figure out how to get the stain out.

She leads you to the bathroom, that now has walls at least. Apparently Tommy and Joel got them up last weekend, even though there’s still work to be done with the plumbing and they also need to find a door and finish the floor.

She walks you to the middle of the room and points where a couch and her desk for drawing and little tinkering are going to go. “I also want a bed in here, if some day I’d actually live here, on my own.”

She paints such a picture with her words, how there’s going to be hanging lights, a few bookshelves, bedside tables, posters, her art stuff. She wants to make this her own space and she’s clearly excited.

You stand still and imagine it all around you, even though now the space seems incomplete and kind of cold. Ellie moves around and pulls the wagon inside, bringing in mud at the same time.

“Maria showed me what to do with the paint when we finished the back wall of the kitchenette.” She points at the fresh white wall behind the waiting cabinets.

“My plan is to paint that wall, where my bed is eventually gonna go. The grey drywall is damn boring.” You look at her unloading the four paint canisters from the wagon to the floor, grunting at the heavy weight.

“Dark green,” she says proudly and takes out her painting equipment. You follow her movements as she opens the canister like she has done it hundreds of times. She pours a small amount into a bowl and takes out a wide brush. When she stands up, she faces you and you see the question on her face immediately.

“It doesn’t have to look perfect, we’re gonna paint it a couple of times. The paint is fucking old anyway, who knows what it’s gonna look like.” Her hands reach out to you with the paint and brush. You hesitate, but when she nudges them towards you, you take them into your weak hands.

“Just start from the corner, if you don’t like it, you don’t have to continue,” she tells you and you look at the darkest corner in the whole room.

You drag your feet against the cement floor to the wall and toe the boots off your feet before you sit down and face the corner. With delicate hands you dip the brush into the rich, deep paint and do a stroke against the drywall.

You spread the colour with a slow drag, carefully painting the wall right above the floor. You lose yourself in the process, watching the wall in front of you turn dark green.

Ellie takes her own brush and bowl and moves to the other end of the wall. She watches you sitting cross legged on the carboard that’s been set on the floor and paint in slow motion.

It’s quiet in the garage except for the rain hitting the roof and her own brushstrokes. Ellie is definitely faster at painting, but it doesn’t surprise her.

Something has happened to you and she can see it a mile away. There’s a dullness in your eyes, dark shadows on your face, you try to avoid looking at her and your trembling body all tell her that you’re not okay.

The fact that she hasn’t seen you since you first got into Jackson and now you look even worse than then makes her worry, but she doesn’t know how to approach that with you. She doesn’t know you and she’s not sure if you even want to talk with her about whatever’s on your mind. You don’t seem to want to talk at all, like back all those months ago.

It's like a puzzle she starts to piece in her brain. Last week she heard Joel talking with Dan from the stables when they went to see Shimmer. He had asked if Dan had heard from you, but he hadn’t. Apparently you’re doing a rotation at the garden but he hadn’t seen you there either when he had gone there to pick up vegetables.

Joel had only nodded at that but Ellie recognised the deep crease between his brows and the way his lips pursed together to be telltale signs of him being worried.

Then there was the time they were here in the garage and Joel had asked how people are housed here, if they have a say in who moves in with whom. Maria had been confused about the question, until Joel mentioned a friend who is going to be moving in with strangers at some point.

Ellie knows Joel doesn’t have close friends here, so him mentioning someone made her look at him in question. He only shook his head to make her not say a word.

Maria eyed him for a long while before she told him that people who come here alone have a say in who they’re going to be living with. Sometimes you got to move in with strangers because living on your own in a big house doesn’t make sense in this community, especially when the housing is limited. So, you have to make friends with people, or at least get to know some of the people in town so it’s easier to integrate into your new life.

And then there was the time when he got home that one evening a few weeks ago, didn’t say a word and  went straight to his bedroom. She knocked on his door to offer him some of the leftovers she had gotten from Maria earlier that day.

Ellie remembers that day specifically because Maria had visited Joel that day and asked him to go help at the stables. It felt like there was some hope between Maria and Joel to have a friendly relationship, based at least on the way Maria kind of thought he was coming over for dinner. When he didn’t arrive, she offered Ellie to take dinner home.

Ellie had opened the door of Joel’s bedroom that evening to find him sitting on the edge of his bed, wringing his hands together with a pained look in his eyes. She had never seen him like that. She sat next to him and listened to his laboured breathing, while he tried to calm himself down.

They had stayed like that for a long while until Joel just closed his eyes, cleared his throat, and rubbed his palm over his face. Finally his hand came to rest over his chest, like he was making sure his feelings were staying inside. To make sure his heart was beating normally again. He didn’t mention it and she didn’t dare bring it up. But she did hear him staying up that night, the whole night, walking first around his bedroom and then downstairs.

He clearly couldn’t sleep and she wasn’t able to chase her sleep either when she knew he was in distress. He didn’t say that he had seen you or been in contact with you, but somehow seeing you like this now makes it seem like maybe something had happened to you and Joel knows about it.

Ellie knows she’s staring at you while you work slowly, lost in your own head. You don’t even notice that Ellie isn’t doing anything, just keeping an eye on you.

When your bowl of paint starts to run out, Ellie hands you her own paint bowl and takes your empty one before filling it. She doesn’t use it though. She just waits for you to finish the paint so she can hand you more. You work meticulously, not missing a spot and being careful not to drop any paint on the floor.

“I first said I wanted to paint the wall to look like space, but Maria wasn’t so sure about it,” Ellie tells you, waiting for you to react. But you don’t.

“Maybe someone else is going to move in here at some point…” Ellie copies Maria’s voice and way of speaking. “Who would move here, we live here,” Ellie rolls her eyes.

“I know Joel wouldn’t have said no to anything, he would’ve given me the paint and the brush and watched happily,” Ellie smiles and sadness tugs at her chest. Of course, Joel would let her paint the wall, he would let her do almost anything. The implication is there, but she doesn’t want to admit it to herself.

I swear.

“Except there was this magazine that I found in Bill’s car. Joel knew Bill, he’s dead now though, so is Frank. Anyway, the magazine, it was a dirty one, with pictures of naked men in there… I bet Joel wouldn’t let me paint something like that on my walls,” Ellie chuckles at even the thought of that.

She still remembers the face he made when he realised what she was reading. He was clearly out of his element and the vein in his forehead looked like it was going to pop when she asked why the pages were stuck together. It was such a long time ago. Back then things were so simple.

“I wouldn’t want to either…” Ellie almost whispers to herself before she looks at you and sees that you might’ve not even heard her talking. Your brushstrokes haven’t paused and your face doesn’t look like you’ve registered any of Ellie’s words.

She sighs and stands up, stretching her arms behind her back before setting the full bowl of paint right next to the old one. You don’t notice her or when she leaves to go back into the house.

The clock on the kitchen wall tells Ellie that Joel should be coming home soon. It feels even darker now that it’s raining and Ellie knows Joel went to a longer trail today with someone he hasn’t gone on patrol with before.

Before she can start wondering if the other person is good at killing infected, she hears heavy footsteps on the front porch.

Joel sighs long and deep when he closes the front door after him, taking his coat off and pulling his boots off his feet. She waits for him in the kitchen, sitting on the counter behind the corner. He doesn’t see her at first.

He combs his fingers through his wet hair before he blinks under the warm kitchen light.

“How was it?” Her voice makes him jump. Maybe she should’ve let him know she was there, but she couldn’t resist the opportunity.

“Did I scare you?” She raises her brows and lets out a short laugh.

“No, of course not,” Joel huffs. He washes his hands in the sink and sees the dishes he left next to it.

“Have you had dinner yet?” He asks while he slowly washes the dishes clean and sets them on the towel where Ellie’s now dry breakfast bowl is.

“No, I was kinda waiting for you.” Her voice makes him look over his shoulder. Somehow he has learnt to understand her like he would’ve known her her whole life and instantly he knows that something’s up. It’s also past their usual dinner time, she would’ve taken the leftovers from yesterday if there wasn’t anything on her mind.

“What’s happened?” He leans against the sink, but he doesn’t have time to question her more when she already jumps down from the counter and moves to put on her shoes and go out back into the garage.

Joel follows her but stops when his older boots aren’t there. Instead there is a pair of other, unfamiliar shoes on the floor and when he looks up, he sees a flannel, a t-shirt, pair of socks and sweatpants drying on hangers.

“Who’s here?” His face hardens but Ellie looks so unsure that it only makes him confused. Clearly there’s no danger, otherwise Ellie wouldn’t be this calm either.

“I saw them when I was getting the paint from Tommy and Maria’s house and they helped me get the fucking busted wagon back home. But Joel, something’s not right with them.” Ellie’s voice turns into a whisper like someone else could hear her.

He leans forward and fear creeps into his body. He can feel his skin prickling, cold sweat pushing out on his back, his heart stammering to beat a little faster and his hands clench before he wiggles his fingers in anticipation.

He goes to get his muddy boots from the front door while Ellie waits for him. Her uncertainty is something that he hasn’t seen in a while. It sometimes peeks through, but while they’ve been in Jackson it has only become rarer. She’s finding her footing here, becoming more confident every day.

She leads him into the garage and the rain is finally starting to ease up. Joel was looking forward to taking a shower, having dinner, and sitting on the couch, maybe watch a movie from the DVD stack he borrowed from Tommy last week, finally winding down from the day.

The rain and the cold were one thing but coming across a group of infected at an old suburb that no one had checked in a while was another. Him and Jade had cleared them out, but the few clickers in the mix did make the task harder.

Jade had gone to make an official report about the incident and how the area should be checked over more regularly even though it’s not on any official routes. Still, it was too close to the town and it would be better if areas like that stayed clear rather than someone stumbling across a pack like that by accident.

The last thing they’d want is the group of infected getting bigger until they’re too hard to handle.

He was so ready to relax. He has started having a routine to get himself calm in the evenings, but whatever is in the garage is not helping him. The back of his neck is tight as he expects to see something disturbing.

The funny thing is that he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to expect. A friend of Ellie’s, maybe drunk? Someone from town who wants to snoop around his house? An infected? That wouldn’t surprise him.

Ellie opens the door to the garage and it’s extremely quiet in there. She steps in and lets Joel follow her and right away he sees you. He stops dead in his tracks and even though the door isn’t the quietest (he makes a mental note to check the hinges and oil them) when it shuts, you’re not moving. You’re deeply hunched, painting the wall deep green, like Ellie wanted, and your head is almost leaning against it.

“Should I – “ Ellie starts, but Joel cuts her off by lifting his hand.

“Stay here,” he tells her quietly as he starts to approach you slowly. He says your name quietly but doesn’t get a reaction. It’s like you can’t even hear anything that’s happening around you.

“Hey,” Joel speaks gently and crouches next to you, touching your shoulder with the lightest of fingers. You flinch and draw in a deep breath, the paint brush clattering on the floor.

It’s completely dry and the two bowls in front of you look like they haven’t been touched in a while. There’s no fresh paint dripping from the side back into the bowls and the paint on the wall has already started to dry up.

Joel looks back at Ellie who sways on her tiptoes, waiting to spring into action. Joel takes the bowls and hands them to Ellie, who scoops the unused paint back into the canister.

Joel directs his attention back to you.

“Painting, huh?” He keeps his voice low when he moves the paint brush from the floor and hands that to Ellie as well so she can clean it.

“These look familiar,” he chuckles lowly, recognising his t-shirt and sweatpants on you. The t-shirt hangs from your shoulders and the pants are way too long for you.

“It’s getting late, we should go inside,” Joel tries to direct you, but you don’t look at him. You barely register he’s right next to you.

When he first touched your shoulder, it was like an electric shock. Now you don’t feel it anymore. But he is touching you, gently adding more pressure. You breathe through the numbness, afraid to look up and face him. You’ve been afraid of seeing him because you thought he’d only bring up that shame you’ve felt. The same fear that you felt at the cliffs is squeezing your lungs, your head swimming in memories you don’t want to remember. There’s something else as well, something surprising. You don’t feel shame around him, you feel calmer than you’ve felt in weeks.

He only reminds you of breaking apart.

And here he is now, trying to coax you into action. You can’t, it’s so much worse now than it has ever been. The feeling inside you. Your eyes sting and your head feels heavy, your lungs trying to gasp for air, but it seems impossible. You feel like you’re coming back alive, wires connecting and your own being washing through you in overwhelming waves.

“Ellie,” Joel lets go of your arm and stands up. This is something he doesn’t know how to handle. Ellie is on his side and the look on her face turns more grievous the harder you’re breathing.

“Go talk with Maria, she said there was someone new here, a doctor, who might be able to help. This is too much for us.” Ellie nods and takes off without a second look.

Joel stays with you and feels at a loss. He knows people get broken in this world, he has seen it time and time again. Hell, even he was that person at some point. Maybe he still is.

But he didn’t see himself from the outside. And he directed that pain into voluntary violence, not knowing how to deal with his wounds inside.

He has been the one to turn his back when someone was on their breaking point for so long because there was no way to survive if you lost your control. But then came along Ellie who is one of the strongest people he knows, even at such a young age. She opened something in him, and he doesn’t want to turn his back anymore.

He looks around and tries to find something that could possibly soothe you. There are a couple of boxes that Tommy and Maria brought in and he opens them, finding sheets and towels. They have to do.

He picks up a towel that is soft and worn, but when he holds it in his hands, it feels thick and warm. He approaches you calmly and squats next to you. He wraps the towel around your shoulders and you bend forward with a flinch, your breathing coming out in ragged, painful gasps.

He keeps his large hands on your shoulders and moves them slowly up and down to warm you up but also to let you know you’re not alone. After a while you do calm down, but you’re shaking and he recognises the way your shoulders shudder.

You’re crying, hard.

His knees start to ache and he sits down while he tries not to jostle you. He stays next to you, his other leg bent behind you while the other is crossed in front of him. He keeps on gently rubbing your back while listening you take wet breaths between your tears.

There’s an air of sadness around you. It’s so thick that he feels like it’s being forced down his throat with every sob you let out.

He sees tears dropping in heavy beads onto your lap. He feels like he’s physically trying to keep you here and he tries so hard, but he also feels at a loss. The last time he saw you he was thoroughly broken.

The panic attack only tore open his own wounds. The face that you made when you looked at him afterwards was something he knew he couldn’t wipe away. Like you were embarrassed to show that part of yourself.

He knew he had to get away from there. From you. He knew he wasn’t able to deal with his own emotions after seeing you in such distress. The screams you had let out reminded him of the night when the outbreak happened. What his own daughter sounded like when she took her last gasping breaths.

Why you were hiding your panic attack confused him though. He had already seen you at your lowest, behind the rock and by the campfire. That time at the cliff was somehow different though.

Your breathing suddenly becomes faster. There’s a fear in him that something’s happening to you, that you’re going to pass out or that you’re having some sort of a medical emergency.

He’s ready to pull away and he’s already moving his hand from your back and arm, but you suddenly grasp onto his wrist. Your hands are cold and clammy and your nails dig into his skin. You look up and he sees the terror on your face. The dark circles under your eyes and the hollows of your cheeks trouble him.

“I- I saw h-him,” you gasp out and a fresh wave of tears fall onto your cheeks. Deep creases form between his brows.

“You saw who?” He whispers back, afraid he’s going to provoke your panic even more.

“Him, my b-brother,” you say and your voice breaks.

“Where did you see him?” He tries to stay as calm as he can but his heart hammers in his chest. Where did you see your brother, here? Why hasn’t your brother been with you if he’s here?

“When his head had been cut off,” your voice is shrill through your pained cries. The confession makes him recoil back and he’s staring at your face, unable to form words.

“A-and my sis-sister, I remember. Sh-she got s-shot in the h-head right i-in front of m-me,” you gasp out between your sobs. His throat tightens at your words and he tries to swallow his own panic down.

You keep whispering something under your breath over and over, and he leans forward, holding his hand against your back just a little firmer while you squeeze his wrist in your own.

Not long after the garage door opens and when he turns around, the first one through the door is Ellie. Her cheeks are red and her hair and clothes are damp from the drizzling rain. Tommy follows her and then there’s an older black woman he hasn’t seen before. She looks at the scene in front of her while she’s catching her breath. They all are, clearly after running here.

“She can help them. Diana, she can help,” Tommy speaks with a low voice, but frantically, nodding his head towards the unknown woman. Joel looks at her when she nods her head in agreement and fixes her eyes on you.

“I can carry them,” Tommy tells Joel and he gets closer. Joel feels his skin crawling, like he’s supposed to protect you.

He looks at Tommy with wide eyes and he’s afraid what’s going to happen when Tommy approaches you. He’s afraid you’re going to start screaming, that you’re going to go into shock if he lets go of you.

“It’s okay, we can take it from here,” Diana says from the door and her soothing voice is like honey to the soul.

Suddenly Ellie is on Joel’s side, helping him up from the floor. She keeps holding his hand and he’s not sure why. He’d like to help Tommy or at least stay with you. You need someone you’re familiar with.

But it looks like you don’t even notice who is holding you. You don’t start thrashing and kicking when Tommy picks you up from the floor, still wrapped in the towel. You have your eyes closed; your lashes are wet from your tears. You hold onto the corner of the thick terry cloth and cry with no end in sight.

“I will need to talk with you at some point as well,” Diana points her words at Joel and he’s confused why she’d say that. He’s not the one who needs help, it’s you, you’re in distress.

Tommy is already at the door, ready to carry you out when Joel sees your socks, his socks, on your feet. They look like they’re about to fall off and he takes a step forward, ready to fix them. But Diana notices it as well and pulls them up over the legs of the sweatpants. Joel’s pants. They leave fast and when the door closes with a loud groan, silence envelopes Joel and Ellie.

“Are you okay?” Ellie sounds concerned and he looks at her in the eyes. He has never seen such deep sadness in her gaze before. Just pure grief that radiates in waves.

He must look confused because Ellie reaches up and touches something on his cheek. She strokes it with her thumb and then moves to the other side, her fingers gently wiping his skin. He follows her movements and touches his own face, his fingers brushing something wet.

He looks at his hand, seeing the water on it. Ellie drops her hand and the empathic look she gives him says it all. He lets out a single laugh, almost surprised, when he realises he had been crying. He hadn’t even noticed. He was so focused on you.

“Is this why she wants to talk to me?” Joel’s voice seems to get stuck in his throat, deep and confused.  

“Diana?” Ellie’s voice is so quiet that Joel has to strain his hearing. She squeezes his hand once. He nods slowly, wiping his hand on his damp jeans.

“Maybe… She said she’s been dealing with a lot of people who have gone through trauma, maybe this is one of those things as well.” She talks like she’s trying to make sense of the situation for herself too.

Joel doesn’t answer her but lets her pull him back into the house. After a small cough and dropping his old boots on the mudroom floor he promises to warm up dinner for them both. He moves automatically, constantly having to swallow down the lump in his throat, and tells Ellie to busy herself with something while he takes a shower.

“I’m gonna be right down,” he promises her and his feet feel like they weigh a ton when he walks up the stairs.

He leans his hands against the tiles and the warm water falls on his head. His chest feels tight as he looks at the slowly fading imprints from your nails on his wrist.

He closes his eyes as he finally puts together what you were saying to yourself before you were taken away while wearing his clothes.

“I’m alone, I have no one, it was my fault, I’m alone…”

It’s the middle of the night when he walks downstairs to the mudroom. The rain has finally stopped. He takes your clothes and puts them all into the wash bucket. He wasn’t able to sleep, he couldn’t stop thinking about what you had told him.

He washes your clothes carefully. He’s thorough and makes sure that he gets every inch of fabric clean. He hangs them up to dry back on the hangers, listening to them drip on the tiled floors while wringing his own hands together while anxiety swells through his body.

The next update, the prologue for part two, will be up on the first of October! See you then <3

[monkeydluffy19920]

Quick thoughts about chapter 1031

A little late for the party but been slowly trying to catch up with One Piece. Wano has been quite eventful arc but so far this here became one of my favorite Wano chapters so far.  

Sanji’s part of the Reasons to love Mugiwaras-series  was written 6 years ago and it focused heavily on WCI arc’s revelations (his past, reasons for his certain ways of behavior i.e sacrifical nature etc.) and we got plenty of answers during the arc and he even received major character developments there. 

There is another thing that was well explained in WCI: why Sanji is competitive around other guys (for example why the bounties always were a big deal for him). I think @movedbento​​​ summed it up in their post: It’s in his childhood, he was always put in comparison against his siblings and was ignored by his biological father. Since he was the only who didn’t have the monstrous superpowers and always ended up being the last one, displeased Judge wiped out Sanji’s existence basically. So, because of the neglection he went through as a child, he has the inner need to be needed and therefore puts his own needs aside and this is what explains the tendency for self-sacrifice. 

While leaving the Whole Cake island, Sanji got the raid suit capsule and he also fulfilled one his dreams in Wano, being invisible and sneaking around the women’s bathhouse.  First he thought the suit was great but when arriving to this chapter, the problems are stacking up. 

Sanji starts to see the downside of the Germa raid suit and although his durability and fighting skills are increasing inhumanly, he notices that he is turning into his brothers. On top of that there was a beaten woman and obviously he started to hesitate whether he did it under the influence of the suit or not. So, all this leads him struggling with a huge decision, whether to trust on his own skills or becoming a Germa soldier. 

Well, he had very conflicting thoughts about the capsule already the first time he saw it and whereas Luffy and Chopper were super excited about it, the cook even stated that he prefers to get stronger by natural ways, not relying on Germa science

So far, Sanji acknowledges the good sides such as how easy it would be to win Queen or fight against ladies (which has been one of his weak points because it’s against his foster father’s teachings). However, he is also truly afraid of losing  the human side of his (the one that makes him who he is). So. again this dilemma is highlighting his strong traits: self sacrifice and kindness. 

Although he learned in WCI arc that he is valuable and important person, at this moment of hesitation in Wano, Sanji still keeps putting people first by thinking what would his captain want instead of what he himself wants.

What makes Sanji’s final decision even more meaningful storywise is the fact that it’s reflecting towards one of the main themes of this series, freedom. He got away from his birth family and tried to forget them but eventually bumped into them again and got trapped. Later he got the chance to tell Judge that Zeff is more father to him than the Germa leader ever was  which was a great moment itself but now that he has erased the final piece that links him to their family, I think this was what Sanji really needed when it comes down to character development. 

So, this chapter is basically him finally breaking free for good. Of course this or WCI didn’t magically heal all the trauma he carried inside years that’ll need years of therapy like all Strawhats need but at least now he is on the right track when it comes down on recovering and becoming stronger for his crew’s sake. 

This alone made this chapter great but also the ending was another chefs kiss-emoji.  Would be cool to see how the original dialogue goes but at least now his request (made because he is afraid things will still still end up with worst case scenario) sounds harsh but on the other hand is completely understandable. 

Most interesting thing is that Oda chose him to ask this from Zoro but somehow he’d be very logical reason compared to other crewmates. Anyway, asking for this kind of huge “favor” tells that no matter how much they bicker in the end, their nakamaship is more than just competing and annoying each other. They have utter trust for each other. 

What tells about their bond as well is that Zoro doesn’t even question Sanji’s request. It’s probably because he knows so well Sanji’s sacrificial nature and that he hates his brothers so much he’d rather die than turn into them. Zoro’s reply is great: basically he accepts the request replying the way he’d be expecting to say but at the same time he  also “ignores” it by telling Sanji he better stay alive no matter what and therefore pushes and motivates Sanji to move forward (because he knows that Sanji will kick Queens ass and just like the others, the cook also has a dream to reach). 

Anyway, all I can say is, amazing work again from Oda! *thumbs up*

[softevnstan]

³.⍭ 𝐈𝐭 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞 - PART II.

pairing. bucky barnes x gender netural!reader

summary. you couldn't believe the name that graced the file on your desk for your new patient. james 'bucky' barnes. you'd heard of him - even studied some of his history during college for psychology classes. never would you have imagined he'd be sent to your office, looking for help.

a.n. you guys responded really well for part one so i wanted to work on part two. no beta, we die like men. i have no fully formed plan with this so i apologize if i got anyone's hopes up. see part one here (make sure you read that first, otherwise, parts of this won't make sense). i also hate using 'y/n', but i don't know how not to, so i heavily recommend the 'InteractiveFics' chrome extension - it'll automatically correct 'Y/N' to the name of your choosing (and can replace other terms)

w.c. 3.6k

tags. depression mention, suicide mention, ptsd mention, therapy, recovering!bucky barnes, patient x therapist (as a whole for the series), not 100% accurate therapy - based on my own perspective and experiences.

‘What am I doing here?’ Bucky's mind played like a broken record, brain scouring for any reason to excuse himself from this appointment altogether.

Was it too late to slip out of the room? Surely not - the secretary was one of the four people (including himself) that sat in the same gray room, and she didn't seem to be paying too much mind hunched over her desk in a seek-and-find book.

The waiting room was dark - lacking any real windows in the area given it was part of a larger building that housed the offices. Bucky had taken the stairs up to the second floor after stepping into the building and searched the stretched hall for your office number and silver nameplate on the walls. Upon finally finding it, Bucky couldn't help but see it as a blessing and a curse. No more wandering aimlessly with the inkling of tension that'd begun to grow with the anxiety of someone approaching him to potentially redirect him. But it also meant he was now another excuse short for skipping this referral appointment entirely.

When stepping in, the atmosphere wasn't near as comforting as he'd been hoping. The space was dark and dimly lit by the glow of orange lamps; chairs sat neatly along the wall with a coffee table, scattered with magazines that had been flipped through countlessly since they'd been there. There was a rounded desk to the left of entering the room where an older woman sat, glasses sitting on the end of her nose and the signs of aging prevalent in her graying hair. Along the back wall, there are several doors; Individual offices, Bucky's brain supplied.

There were shelves of books and an overwhelming amount of fake plants in the room. The closest window that Bucky could scour out immediately was a narrow, rectangular one. Lone by itself given the layout of the office building not allowing for it. Hardly any natural light seeped into the room. If the actual offices with the therapists were as gloomy as this, Bucky would have better luck abandoning all hope right then and excusing himself. Save him another uncomfortable experience in the mental health field.

Working with Raynor wasn't exactly what Bucky needed as a first experience in therapy. Before the 70 years that he'd spent under HYDRA's thumb, there were no resources like this at home. Mental Health hardly existed as a concept - no awareness of the rippling effects of war or aid for the soldiers that would return traumatized and self-loathing. Hell, men beat their wives back then like property. That was even without the PSTD and fragile masculinity slammed on top.

Not his father, thank a god that Bucky isn't sure he even believes in anymore.

Christina was rough around the edges. A former officer in the military, one would think she may be perfect for the job in regard to Bucky's emotional baggage and the weight he carries. She wasn't. That was something Bucky only began to learn months later with Sam's help; That while Dr. Raynor was not a bad woman, she was not what Bucky had needed to begin opening up to people. The clipped energy that filled a room when sharing a space with Christina made it near impossible to relax fully; When Bucky was being a little difficult on his bad days (yes, he can admit he's difficult), instead of approaching him with patience, Raynor would combat his comments with her own condescending ones. It felt more like a weekly brawl where he had something to prove rather than a safe space to begin the healing process.

It was like ripping open a healing wound, wondering why it wouldn't improve, and being confused when it worsens under brutal treatment.

Dr. Raynor was not what Bucky needed, simply put.

But the one that woman did right with all certainty was to at least aid in redirecting Bucky to someone that can help him produce better results.

That's what landed him there. In the waiting room of your office with an appointment at 3:15 p.m.

Your praise was sung of being someone who was more approachable and positive, albeit not naively so. When Bucky was peering at reviews and your background check - comforting his own paranoia - he'd seen nothing but kind things said. How patient you were. How compassionate; How you make your patients feel heard and understood. How you provide the tools to create a proper support system and show people how to live again. Bucky tries not to get his hopes up for things, but he was certainly beginning to spark hope when he was able to look more into your reviews. It made him want to try again rather than give up.

But sitting in that dim-lit office, he's not sure how confident he is in that statement anymore. Bucky's left leg bounces in an anxious fidget. His shoulders are tight, arms folded over his chest in a closed-off stance while he sits back in one of the empty chairs of the waiting room. To anyone else, Bucky probably looks angry at the world - it's just him hiding his nerves. Never an intentional expression worn, it's simply become a default to wrinkle his forehead and wear a tired face.

Bucky could still leave. The heavy door that he'd pushed open to get in taunts him from where he sits.

And it's right as he's weighing out the consequences of bailing on this idea altogether that the sound of a door opening grabs his attention. Head turning in the direction of the noise, tired eyes squinting slightly for a brief moment when light pours into the room. A woman in roughly her thirties steps out of the first door lining the back wall, followed by you. Bucky is only certain of that fact because he recognizes your face from the LinkedIn profile you have.

"Thank you again for coming in, Greta, I'm looking forward to hearing about your daughter's Bat Mitzvah; tell her happy birthday for me." you tell the woman that's begun her leave.

"Of course, I hope your next session goes well," beams a woman, assumedly 'Greta'.

Bucky sucks his bottom lip in, worrying the skin between his teeth before sighing out through his nose. Attempting to take a steadying breath to appease his nerves when--

"Mr. Barnes?" your voice prompts.

Running away isn't a choice anymore. Not realistically.

So Bucky drops his arms and feels the taut muscles in his shoulders before trying to force them to settle. Rolling broad muscle under his leather coat before pressing off the armrests of the wooden chair with gloved hands to get up. His eyes remain averted from your face, but he crosses the room to you nevertheless.

"It's nice to meet you, James, if you'd please step in here with me," you hold the door open for Bucky; Allowing him to step into the relatively small space.

But it's not suffocating, he notices.

It's actually a stark contrast to the heavy waiting room he'd just been sitting in for the past 10 minutes or so. The light of day pours in from the tall, wide window on the back wall of the room. In the brief space where the window doesn't occupy the wall, there's a bookcase sat with countless psychology books. A soft-looking loveseat is pressed against the wall to Bucky's right, and across from that is a matching single chair with an end table. On the table sits a lamp, a box of tissues, and what appears to be a selection of colorful fidget toys. The walls are hogged by large framed photos; some of paintings, some of hyper-realistic photos or art. The floor is a deep gray-brown carpet, the walls painted a soft eggshell. Plants sit on the shelf in front of the window, drinking in the sun; He spots a Wandering Jew, two cactuses (both different breeds), and a succulent perched comfortably.

"Have a seat," your voice interrupts the way Bucky studies the room, and promptly he moves to the loveseat. Lowering himself into it, it's significantly more comfortable than the chair he was just sitting in. Still, Bucky sits stiffly. Uncomfortable; refraining from letting his back touch the couch and posture coming across as closed up without him even realizing it.

Like a mantra, belittling thoughts play on a broken loop through his head.

This isn't going to work. It's going to end badly. I'm going to be seen as a monster all the same. I'm a bad person, I don't deserve this. Other people deserve it more. I'm wasting everyone's time.

The thoughts spiral heavier and heavier for Bucky, even as you close the door; successfully sectioning him and you off from the rest of the world. His jaw sets as you move to sit across from him.

Bucky silently wishes the moment would end before it's even begun.

He wants to go back to his apartment, even if it makes him just as miserable.

“So, Mr. Barnes, from what I’m understanding, you'd like to make me your primary therapist and discontinue working with Doctor Raynor?”

Bucky wants to heal. You see it in him. The first step is admitting you have an issue; that there is something wrong. Not that Bucky is wrong, but his headspace surely is a defunct mess; The task ahead of you in untangling said mess is daunting, but Bucky is worthy of it. He deserves it. Even if he doesn't realize that yet.

He deserves to have someone who's willing to help him understand and put the pieces back together. Not simply throw their hands up the first time that Bucky struggles and leave him to fend for himself - this man was done far too much fending by himself.

It's clear by the silence followed by the words, 'That’s all I’ll ever ask of you', that Bucky isn't sure what to say. Rather than allowing the quiet to eat at him, you continue the conversation. Save him from the anxiety he might be feeling in being unable to muster a reply.

"So, Bucky - Can I call you 'Bucky'?" You ask, sure to keep a warm and approachable composure. Bucky's comfort is your priority; If he feels unwelcomed, he won't come back.

A stiff nod comes from the man across you. He still struggles to meet your gaze; Eventually, you'll both work on that, but for now, you don't mind. Let him take things at his own pace.

"So, Bucky," you reiterate, leaning back in your armchair and crossing your legs at the ankle. Your shoulders ease and you relax into your seat. "How about we start by getting to know you a little bit; Where you'd like to work first and what some of your immediate issues are, in your opinion."

Bucky's teeth clench - you can tell because his jaw flexes and it pulls on your heartstrings for a moment. His shoulders look so tight, his body so stiff. Chiseled features are hard, and his face doesn't seem nearly as full as you'd seen in museums and textbooks while growing up and learning American History. Dare you even say he almost looks sunken in, with dark rings around his eyes and sadness in gray hues.

You wonder how he sleeps at night - if he even does. If he eats the way he should. It's heartbreaking to see a man carved into such a husk.

"Raynor was working with me to make amends," Bucky starts, and surely that doesn't mean what you think it does-- "To make things right for what I did as the Winter Soldier, as a condition of my pardon."

"There's nothing to make right, Bucky." You answer almost immediately; your blood feeling hot for half a moment. You saw history unfold right before you, living in New York. Hearing the chaos of HYDRA overtaking SHIELD in 2014, that Boy Wonder 'Bucky Barnes' was still alive. Many things were kept from the public, as much as they could be, but one thing was for certain. Anyone with two brain cells to rub together could see that Bucky was another victim of HYDRA's. Not the catalyst for the carnage. An unwilling piece of the puzzle.

You have to stop yourself from becoming too expressive, though. Despite the quickness of your words, you maintain an evenness to them. "Now, I won't pretend to know what's happened with it all; That's something for us to talk about with time. But I can promise you right now, Bucky, that I am not Dr. Raynor. And while we can revise the conditions of your pardon, you won't be trying to fix mistakes you didn't make. We're here to help you."

Another break of silence, and Bucky has begun to fidget with his hands. Kneading them together in his lap; your own gaze flickering briefly to watch the leather rub on leather.

"I... I don't know what to say," Bucky speaks, his voice soft and timid. Unmatching the hardness of his face.

A small crease forms between his brows, eyes downcast but briefly lifting to peer at you.

"You don't have to know what to say right now," you gently tell him. "I know you may not agree with my perspective on things right now, but please hear me when I tell you that I'm not here to judge you. You're a survivor, Bucky."

A soft huff comes from him - lip curling into a crooked grin that's humorless. Bucky shakes his head right after, and the expression falls. You watch curiously.

"I'm sorry, it's... Everyone seems to either look at me like the pariah or like a victim." Bucky explains, and for a moment, your lips form a soft smile. You lean forward, shifting your position once more to lean in a little closer to Bucky's space without outright intruding on it.

"You're a survivor," you reiterate. Making sure he hears it. "And there is no shame in being a survivor - I'm a survivor and don't consider it derogatory, it's exactly what I am."

Bucky's brow knits up slightly and his attention is on you fully. Arguably the longest so far since he's been in this room with you. He looks as though he's searching for something and the answer is somehow embedded in you, and deep down, you want to give him whatever it is he's searching for.

You're a survivor, too. It's what made you good at your job. Being able to empathize to a degree with the individuals that come to you; To be able to share your own experiences and show the person sitting in front of you that they are not alone. People like to feel heard and understood. And sometimes the best way to for that is to sit with someone who's been through something similar.

Though you certainly didn't have experience as a prisoner of war who was genetically engineered...

His pink lips part as though he wants to speak, but whatever words were that die on Bucky's tongue when his mouth clamps shut and he finally averts his attention. You follow his gaze briefly to find him looking out the window parallel to him on his right. The light peeked in through the sheer curtains and lit the side of his face partially. You wonder if the sunlight makes him warm at all.

"Do you want me to draw the curtains for you, Bucky?" You offer, wondering if perhaps it's distracting to him.

Bucky shakes his head. "I'm not used to this." "Can you explain what 'this' is?" You ask, gently prompting him in hopes he keeps talking. "I, uhm..." His voice trails - clearly searching for the words. "You're... Calm. I don't entirely know how to explain it. We haven't been talking that long but I was, uh, intimidated to meet you. My precious therapy experiences haven't been the best..." It's the most he's said in a single sitting, you're impressed.

"And that's alright - sometimes not every therapist works out. Many people struggle to understand that therapy is not a 'one size fits all' matter. Sometimes we have to feel out situations and feel out people. If you decide at any point you're no longer comfortable speaking with me, I understand and will be more than happy to help you find another therapist that can specialize in your concerns." Always deliberate as to not call Bucky's situation 'problems' or 'what's wrong'. The last thing you'd want is for him to feel as though he is the root problem in his life. He's not.

"Thank you," the man murmurs softly, and you can tell it's another moment he's unsure what to say. Even the words feel as though it took quite a deal of effort to muster from Bucky. That's okay - sometimes people need to warm up. You're not surprised in the least that Bucky isn't an open book, you wouldn't be if you went through even half of what he did.

"...I'll tell you what," You begin, Bucky's attention drawing right back to you rather than the world outside the glass. "How about we start small, you and I, okay? We don't have to touch anything heavy yet, we can start simple."

"Simple?" Bucky echoes.

"Mhm," a confident nod from you, "I hope I don't sound rude at all, but I can tell you're someone who's carrying a whole lot more than they let on."

That earns a skeptical look from Bucky. You wonder in a brief moment where you potentially lost him when he answers that question for you:

"I'm sure you can." The response comes out almost irritated. No elaboration.

For a moment your mind scrambles, wondering, before it clicks. Still, you encourage Bucky to use his words. "What do you mean?"

A long sigh comes through his nose. "Oh, c'mon," he tries, but you simply look expectantly. Bucky needs to communicate, if they have no form of communication, they have nothing. "Y'know, everyone seems to know about me. Everything with HYDRA..." His expression is progressively hardening; He's lumping you with everyone else. You see it. Even if Bucky doesn't realize what he's doing, he's trying to build that wall again. Brick himself out and separate himself.

"No," You reply, "I only know what you want to share with me, Bucky. I didn't follow your story as it was happening - though I'd be lying if I said I was entirely clueless. Whatever I knew prior to meeting you today, though, doesn't matter. I want to know you. Not what everyone else's perception of you, is. Consider us strangers."

Then, as if to prove your point, you shift forward even more in your seat. Uncrossing your legs and sitting them flat on the floor as you offer your right hand out.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Bucky, I'm Dr. Y/N." Maybe the notion seems silly - and it is, honestly. You've both been talking this long.

Bucky is a little taken aback by the gesture; Blinking at you cluelessly for a moment before he huffs again. This time, his half-hearted grin doesn't look so bitter when he offers his right hand out tentatively. A ginger shake, as though he's scared he's going to break you, and the leather of his glove is warm against your palm.

While he doesn't verbally reciprocate the gesture, his expression speaks for him. A conversation without words.

It's clear that it's a bit more comforting to Bucky. For a brief moment he seemed as though he was ready to leave without coming back, but with quick thinking, you're relieved to have reeled him in once more.

"Anything about you outside of this room means nothing to me," you promise. "It's up to you how much you share. No one else."

Bucky's smile pulls just a tad bit wider, and you consider it a victory.

"We'll start simple," You repeat, pulling your hand from his to pick up the notepad on the table beside you. Flipping to a clean page and clicking your pen - you don't miss the way Bucky looks at you almost worriedly. As if you've picked up a weapon when in reality it's a pen and paper.

"I'd like you to find a nice journal that you like. One that you won't be afraid to write in, and one that you'll feel comfortable using. Next week when we see each other, I'd like you to bring it with you." You effortlessly speak while your pen scrawls away on the small lines sheet in front of you - your handwriting reads out on the paper, 'BRING A NOTEBOOK THAT YOU'RE COMFORTABLE WITH USING :)'

You tear the paper from the metal rings that bind it and pass it over to Bucky. He takes it wordlessly, looking at the piece of paper in his hands.

"That's it...?" Bucky ponders aloud. "That's it." Another gentle smile you wear. "Journaling is an extremely useful tool for going through our feelings and helping us take a step back and breathe. It can help us avoid dramatizing situations unintentionally, and it can help us develop a sense of mindfulness and gratitude. You don't need to write anything in it just yet, but if you'd like to decorate it, I won't stop you. Whatever makes you feel comfortable to begin writing in it."

"...Dr. Raynor didn't have me keep a journal," the soldier murmurs. "I'm not Dr. Raynor." you answer simply.

Your first session with Bucky seems to go well on all accounts. Sure there were a few brief tense moments, but you like to hope he'll return. At the end of the day, that's Bucky's decision. If he chooses to continue with you as his therapist, though, you want to help him in any way he can.

He doesn't know it yet, but you're determined. By the end of your time together, you want to have helped Bucky obtain a new perspective and help him live. Not simply survive.

After he leaves your office, you make sure to fill your schedule in for the same time next week.