#I had a really bad day and I’m coping by being nasty on main

[daistea]

this frame… that should be ME he’s grabbing

[pigletxpoohbear]

I saw you asking for requests and wondered if you could do headcanons for how the obey me boys would react to a Mc who goes nonverbal sometimes (especially when they aren't feeling well mentally)? If you don't wanna do all, I'd just really love to see Beel, Barbatos, Diavolo and Luke!

I hope you have an amazing day🌼

I’m going to start off by just saying when I get really depressed and my thoughts and headspace are worse than usual this is my main mechanism to cope. So, I’m going to write this based on my experiences and go from there if you want me to rewrite it please say so. I’m also going to try and keep the headcannons for this as gender-neutral.

Lucifer

Lucifer is very observant and even more so when it comes to you

When he read your file he understood you had anxiety and depression, based on that he believed he had a clue what it was going to be like with you here in the devildom

Unfortunately, he was slightly off (he was completely incorrect, but he won’t admit that.)

He realized not too long after a week or two here with you in devildom that when you have really bad anxiety you tend to keep it to yourself and when your thoughts are too much you tend to do the same

He also saw that you’d try to keep answers as short as possible when feeling like this

Luci asked you to come by his office during school so that none of his brothers would interrupt, he ended up telling you that if there’s anything that he can do such as pulling you out of classes some days and just helping you privately or putting a proper lock on your door at the HoL you can just tell him and it doesn’t have to be in person, but a call, a text, an email, or a letter just let him know

He’s the most understanding of the brothers surprisingly

Mammon

Mammon isn’t exactly observant, but does notice 

He noticed some days your answers to questions were so short or so quiet that they were almost nonexistent

Mammon was concerned about what was wrong with his human, but didn’t know what to do besides just talk to you about it

One night when you left to your room to be alone and just sit down away from anyone he actually knocked on your door instead of barging in

When he came in he sat across from you on the floor, he asked what was wrong or if there’s something that he needs to fix 

You told him that when everything becomes too much you don’t really like to talk and want to be in a more quiet place

He ended up making a door hanger that told him if it was okay for him to barge in or if today you just needed time alone (he looked like a tomato when giving it to you, he felt so embarrassed)

Anything that makes his human comfortable

Leviathan

Anxiety? Depression? Nonverbal? Levi understands this all too well, but because this is the case he’s like the last one to notice

He doesn’t really notice mainly because he’s often in his room or in his head

He ended up finding out about it because you only gave him yes and no as an answer the whole weekend and thought it was because you didn’t want to be around a nasty otaku and confronted you outside your bedroom

You had to explain that you just go basically silent when your depression and anxiety became too much to handle and said you were sorry

Now Levi felt bad after you shut the door

He went out and got some mangas, animes, and candies and left them outside (after making sure Beel wouldn’t eat them and Mammon wouldn’t take them) and left a letter and a text message apologizing and telling you that he does the same thing and he’s really sorry that he jumped the gun and if you ever want to hang out with him in silence in his room you’re more than welcome to whenever you want

Satan

Satan notices almost as fast as Lucifer

He didn’t really say anything to you about it, but when he would see signs that today isn’t a good day he usually would keep his pranks on Lucifer to himself and see if maybe you want to play with the cats or go to a nice quiet cafe he found not too long ago

On good days he also tries to reach out and just be with you just to be sure you’re okay

Honestly does a ten out of ten job when it comes to being around you on good and bad days (he doesn’t even realize he’s benefiting from it and that he's much calmer recently)

Asmodeus

Asmo is very touchy-feely and some days you don’t like being touchy-feely

Asmo only asked about it because you wouldn’t cuddle with him the last few days

When he realized he apologized and said that if it’s not a good day today then whenever it is please come by he really loves to spend time with you, but won’t force you to do something that you’re not comfortable with

You guys cuddle every now and again because it does help sometimes and either he’ll whisper sweet nothings to you or he’ll just stay quiet and rub your head or back

When you don’t cuddle he’ll bring you tea and a nice pillow or two from his room so that you can rest or just sit more comfortably

Beelzebub

(I think that Beel is an empath and that’s why Beel gets upset by others being upset) When Beel gets the first signs that today isn’t a good day he usually gives you some of his food or asks if you need anything

He doesn’t quite understand it, but he wants to make you happy even if it takes a few days for that to happen

You ask Beel for cuddles or to just sit with you consider it done and sometimes Belphie will be there (usual he is, he just happens to always be where Beel is)

And you guys just form a cuddle pile and nap either in your room, the twins’ room, or in the observatory

Belphegor

He literally is too busy being asleep to notice and I don’t think would ever find out

One moment he’s in one room the next he’s in yours cuddling with you and Beel 

Doesn’t mind too much (mainly because quiet means he can sleep)

Only realizes if someone says something to him about it, but no one asks him cause they go to you first

Clueless sleepy boi

Diavolo

He noticed because he could barely hear you one day and thought you were sick and was about to send you home with Lucifer (who had a bunch of papers he needed to sign off on and would grow immensely if not taken care of)

You explained that it wasn’t necessary and that today was just a bad day

He asked if you wanted to go home and just finish your schoolwork or some makeup work at the HoL or in his office so that you can be in more quiet and accommodating space

Every now and again you’ll do school work in Diavolo’s office and have little sandwiches and tea with him and Lucifer

Barbatos

Literally knows before you got here (he can see the future lmao)

He packs little gift baskets and things like that for you full of your favorite things and has them delivered that day or those days

He has to be with Diavolo all the time, but surprisingly is able to help with these little things that he sends you

You end up exchanging gifts and gift baskets every now and again and when he did get a day off you ended up spending it together and going to ristorante six

Simeon

Doesn’t spend much time with you outside school, but he does notice a few things that he considered odd 

He wondered why you were so meek some days, but quite vocal others

He also saw how you’d keep to yourself and stay away from people especially large groups and then other days you’d be around all of the brothers laughing

He asked Lucifer about it and he explained the situation (Lucifer trusts Simeon to an extent, but knows that Simeon only asks for your well being and no other reason)

After learning the situation he becomes less curious as to what the problem is and more curious on how to help you

When needing to get in groups in classes the brothers aren’t closer or aren’t in he’ll partner with you and make sure that you’re comfortable

Luke

Sweet boy doesn’t understand other than your sad

Makes you cakes, cupcakes, cookies, and all sorts of sweet treats

He also loves to make sure that you’re heard and stays really quiet so he can hear what you have to say

He doesn’t get it, but he does have the spirit

Soloman

Oh boy where do I begin with this one

Soloman notices, he notices everything

Is he good at this type of stuff though? No, no he is not

Wants you to try out potions and tell him the effects, but can’t hear you

Is that an effect or is that just you?

When not experimenting he’s better and tries to find things that make you happy 

Do you want cuddles? Done. Do you want food? I’ll get something from Hell’s Kitchen. Do you want to go for a stroll? I know a really good lookout point where we can be alone.

Literally, just don’t go in the potions room and you’ll have something helpful

[keyofjetwolf]

What was your first?

So a horse walks into a rehab and says “ouch”. And not a lot. Then a great deal. While also saying nothing. It’s BoJack, in rehab, and going about as well as you might think!

“The Stopped Show” may not have been much about BoJack, but “A Horse Walks Into A Rehab” makes up for it by being 99.9% BoJack, setting aside the brief appearance of the other characters to set their stages for when we get back to them. Diane’s in a shitty motel, Todd’s in a seedy alleyway, Princess Caroline has her porcupine baby, and Mr. Peanutbutter continues to deliver cheer while everything around him burns AND drowns. I’ve now touched base with them about as much as the season premier, and we’ll get busy ignoring them.

As I said, BoJack is the star today, and we continue his quest for ... what, exactly?

Trying to pin it down, that “what is BoJack looking for” question, it’s a lot harder to answer than I expected, which marks another instance of me fucking myself, GOOD JOB ME.

I initially said “punishment”, but that isn’t true, or a least, is too easy. BoJack wants accountability for his actions -- which is a very different thing than punishment -- but he wants it in a way that also absolves him from having to do any work to rise above it. So you’d think he’d love this, the constant claim in rehab that he’s powerless. It seems like the answer to everything, a blanket pass to excuse his behaviour because he’s powerless. Why doesn’t he? I’m not sure I’m entirely clicking with the heart of that, so come with me as I have a poke at it.

For one, I doubt very much rehab would begin and end with “you’re powerless, oh well”. Addiction is some nasty business, but in and of itself, it’s a symptom, not the problem. That in mind, we swing back then to BoJack having to put in the work, only now it’s with the removal of his favourite coping mechanisms.

I think what he was hoping to get out of rehab was more along the lines of “Vodka is a naughty irresistible siren who topples even the most noble of men, but if you cross your eyes and click your heels, you’ll be free from her spell forevermore.” And yeah, no.

I think we get some of that in how, for a while, rehab seems to suit BoJack.

To the point I very specifically said to Doc as I was watching this, “Oh shit, did BoJack just become even MORE insufferable?” He’s okay so long as he has the comfort of the scripts and the regimented plant therapy and the same hike every day. When he starts to get fucked is when he has push further, when he has to work harder, when the treatment demands MORE.

“I notice you tend to deflect when I ask you about the source of your addiction,” his therapist says, causing BoJack to immediately deflect, first with a joke and then, when that doesn’t work, attacking the entire system. Getting to the root of his problem is the last thing BoJack wants, to the point where the entire episode ITSELF is one giant deflection. I made a joke in passing up there about our passing moments with each of the other main characters, but that’s actually it, that’s the heart of this episode.

Each of these are efforts by the episode to deflect what’s going on NOW, tempting us with something shiny and interesting, if only we’d take the bait. I ONLY JUST MADE THIS CONNECTION WELL FUCKING DONE SHOW

And of course, there’s Jameson’s story, which is part deflection, part contrast. She’s intended to appear at first like someone BoJack can relate to, a Sara Lynn Pt. 2 that he wants to save and in whom he sees so much of himself. In equal parts, he’s the adult trying to guide her and the force enabling her, and I’d have to do a bit more thinking on whether I thought his success with her was about him walking both sides of that line, or Jameson just, at the end of the day, being lucky. Either way, it’s also not really about her, so much as BoJack talking a really good game at her, while giving her all the tools to make the worst choices.

Which is, I think, where the episode finally settles. BoJack’s choices have been his own, but they aren’t made in isolation. Throughout this episode, we get moments, presented in reverse chronological order, that could on their own answer that key question: When was the first time you drank?

To settle your nerves to get through a scene everyone was counting on you to nail?

To fit in with the cool kids at high school?

To win your father’s approval?

What’s brilliant to me about each of these flashbacks is that the further into the past we go, the more willing we are to absolve BoJack. In the first, he’s a professional actor required to kiss an attractive and consenting fellow professional in the course of a performance. Nervous? Makes total sense. Getting plastered to do it? LESS SENSE.

The high school one is the most damning, which I adore. BoJack’s the butt of some light bullying by the jock, and I don’t mean to completely dismiss that it sucks, but the remainder of events before he starts in on the beers shows he’s hardly an absolute social pariah. And even if he were, once he begins to drink, BoJack doesn’t just become the life of the party, he becomes cruel (demonstrating quite well that jokes aren’t his only tool of deflection). Worse, that he KNOWS he’s doing it, but cares more about his positive attention than their negative. Still, BoJack’s a kid and peer pressure is a hell of a thing. This isn’t a good look, but it’s also not damning, if he’d come to learn from it. 

Now we jump the line to, I’d guess, ten or eleven year old BoJack, who walks in on his father having an affair with his secretary, but too young to recognize what he’s seen. Butterscotch can’t take the risk though, so he effortlessly manipulates little BoJack into getting drunk and passing out, then uses BoJack’s shame about it to keep him quiet on the whole evening. UNDER THE GUISE OF BEING HIS FRIEND AND DOING HIM A FAVOUR BY THE WAY. No question, Butterscotch is a son of a bitch, and the only thing BoJack did wrong here was crave his parent’s love.

Even with the high school one being a little more grey, they’re all pretty cut and dry. Remember that we’re following the thread of “When was the first time you drank?” and to land on the answer “When my unrepentantly dickish father lied to me to save his own ass” puts a pretty solid punctuation mark on the whole affair. Addiction may not be at fault, but Butterscotch Horseman is. Case closed, we can go home.

BUT WAIT WHAT’S THIS

Right at the end, when you think we’re done, there’s one more flashback. A party of some sort, possibly New Year’s. The house sounds empty, there’s only the looping of the record player, stuck repeating the same five seconds again and again and again. Butterscotch and Beatrice are passed out drunk, judging from the empty bottles around them. Was it a good party? A bad one? She has her back to him and they’re about as far apart as they could get while still remaining in the room, but also, nothing’s broken? It’s impossible to know.

What we do know is that BoJack, aged about where we saw him in the “Free Churro” flashback so maybe seven or so? Very young, at any rate, and he’s alone. There doesn’t appear to be anything in the room for a child, so it’s probably fair to say he wasn’t included in the festivities. Did he have something to do instead? His own party maybe? Friends to play with, someone to watch him? Did he even get dinner? From what we’ve seen, “no” is a much more likely answer to any or all of these.

AND NOW THE FIRST TO PUNCH YOU IN THE HEART

Tiny BoJack knocks back several gulps of vodka (like a fucking pro, may I add), then crawls onto the couch next to his unconscious mother, pretending for just a few minutes that she’s cuddling him until he, too, will fall into a drunken slumber.

RIGHT SO WHAT THE FUCK DO WE DO WITH THIS JESUS WEPT

Had you told me “Just wait, seven year old flashback BoJack is going to muddy the hell out of this” I wouldn’t have ... okay, well, I know the show, so I probably would’ve believed you, but I would’ve been preemptively grumpy.

This isn’t his fault! But it is! This isn’t his parent’s fault, but it super super is! Nobody MADE BoJack drink the vodka, as the scene goes to great lengths to show. There is nobody to tell him to do anything at all. Beatrice is three fucking sheets to the wind, she has no idea he’s there and he could have pretend cuddled all night AND stayed sober. Did baby BoJack, like adult BoJack, take the drink to calm his nerves for an expression of physical intimacy? Would baby BoJack have even known that was an option? Remember, this is framed as the answer to the question “When was the first time you drank?” Not “took a drink”, but “you DRANK”, the phrasing of which I think is important. It’s all about the root of the problem. What I get out of that question is then is “the first time you drank to numb yourself”.

Baby BoJack is looking at this disaster, this mess that is his every day no matter how many party hats and streamers you stick on it, and he wants anything else at all. So he turns to the easiest thing he knows will take it away the fastest. The situation isn’t his fault. The opportunity isn’t his fault. But the response IS, in a way that EVEN AS I SAY IT, makes me feel shitty.

CONGRATS BOJACK HORSEMAN FOR MAKING ME SEE A LITERAL CHILD SLAMMING BACK VODKA STRAIGHT FROM THE BOTTLE AND MAKING ME GO “okay, but”.

SEASON SIX SHOULD BE A WALK IN THE PARK

[100daydresschallenge]

Day Two

Having ‘washed’ the underarms of the dress last night I was a bit worried that it would still be damp this morning. In accordance with the tips on the website I dampened the offending area with warm water and then hung it up to dry. Being clumsy and tired I didn’t just dampen the underarms but also half the fabric, so I was expecting it to be a bit wet this morning.

I live in a Victorian cottage and it’s not particularly well ventilated. We do have some patches of damp and there’s some mould who isn’t paying rent until it finds its feet. Drying clothes indoors through the winter is definitely contributing to the problem. I do have a washer dryer that I can tumble dry clothes in, but it costs a fortune to run and despite being only a year old it’s about as effective as an old school spin dryer. Anyway, I was a bit surprised to find that this morning The Dress was bone dry, as though it had never been dampened at all.

This really gripping information about drying clothes in my house is actually relevant to a lot more than pit-rinsing The Dress. One of my overall aims is to do less laundry. The main reason is the environmental impact, but there are more personal reasons too. As I’ve mentioned, my house is not a good place to dry clothes. Having been here a year it’s very clear that where we dry clothes suffers more from the damp problems. We also have a septic tank, because we live too far from civilisation to be on mains sewage lines, so every drop of water, and whatever chemicals are mixed in with it, goes into our septic tank and has an impact on how well everything in there breaks down. Flooding the system with soapy water too regularly could cause big problems in the future.

Working from home should mean that I get through less laundry anyway, but I have a tendency to rewear the main items (jeans, big jumpers, dresses that I haven’t got food on etc) two or three times and everything else goes straight in the wash after one wear. Personal information here, but partly it’s because I think it smells.

This is where I need a change of mindset. As said in my previous post, I felt like the pits of The Dress smelled, but actually they didn’t smell BAD. They just had a smell. At what point do we have to accept that a smell, even if it’s not bad to us, is bad to other people? I feel that if a person smells strongly of anything, be it gently frying onions and garlic or aftershave, that’s a bad thing and they’re assaulting my nostrils. At what point is a smell “strong” and do we have a duty to other people to not make them uncomfortable with our personal scent?

I have read that women have a stronger sense of smell than men. I believe this to be true and I have noticed that my ability to smell things is directly linked to my hormonal cycle. If I can smell the curtains (quite pleasant cottony-sunshine smell) or the inside of the oven when it’s shut and turned off (nasty stale cheese and grease smell with a hint of plastic chemical death) then it’s time to get the chocolate in and not talk about sick kittens. I’d be interested to know if other people experience a cycle of having super-human smelling abilities and how they cope on the low-smell days knowing that there are smells just beyond their reach.

Anyway, today I’m serving “depressed cat-owning teacher from a cartoon” and I’m serving it well. It’s warm enough in the house today to not wear tights so I’m free-legging it. My cardigan is many years old and probably needs to be recycled into rags at this point, but I’m quite attached to it. If I go outside into public later I’ll clad my legs in tights, put on some DMs and swap out Old Faithful the cardigan for a faded khaki denim jacket.

[chorusnihili]

what is wd gasters past

"A rather broad and invasive question, I'd say, but I suppose I can give you the rundown."

"I was born on the surface while tensions were already high, enough that my parents, assuming that I had them, were gone before I had a chance to remember them. I was mostly raised by a mismatch village of monsters; well-cared for, not the only one that didn't have a specific home."

"I didn't miss living on the surface and never wished to return there, quite frankly. The only thing that made it worth living there is that in my final few years there, I did have something close to an adoptive parent. Who, unfortunately, chose death over leaving their home."

"A lot of monsters like to paint the underground as this hellish, soul-sucking fate worth than death. Personally I never found it that bad. I suppose I never was the type to feel wanderlust or anything of the sort. I was happy merely knowing we were safe and humanity likely had no interest in pursuing us."

"So I dedicated most of my life to making the Underground as good a place as possible. Anything that could make life more bearable. Try to cheer up those affected the worst by the change. During this time, a lot of monsters took up psychology; you can find a lot of studies on stress, despair, and trauma written during this time; techniques for coping and helping loved ones, many of which still hold up to this day."

"Unfortunately given the fact that communication has always been a hassle to me, it ultimately wasn't a field of study that suited me well, although I've been told I'm a good listener."

"So my attention broke from such studies to poking around the world about me. Much of the underground was new and needed to be explored and understood, and, what can I say, I was young and ready to believe that magic could do anything. Except, maybe, restore my eyesight. Heh."

"The migration through the underground was relatively linear. The forests of Home, the snowy landscapes of Snowdin, the rainy marsh of Waterfall, the deep caves of Hotland, and finally, the empty caves of New Home. But New Home was the end. The final stop. Assuming a vaguely dome-shaped barrier forming to the shape of the mountain, we had found it on all sides; the entrance at Home, the exit at New Home, the presumably small entries in Waterfall that human trash falls through, the tunnels in Hotland that the lava flows through. We reached the end; there was nowhere else to go."

"Monsters began to fan out, build permanent civilizations. Asgore and Toriel chose to build their castle and kingdom right on the cusp of the barrier; why, I'm not entirely sure. Perhaps it was meaningful, to them. A sign of having conquered the humans, something to put them at ease. I never asked, it never seemed appropriate."

"Although many monsters seemed disappointed that there was nowhere else to go, I found a sense of satisfaction from it. We had discovered everything; there was nothing else that might creep out from the shadows. We had an understanding of the world we now lived in, a map from top to bottom, left to right. And now, all we had to do was reshape it into the world we wanted it to be."

"Much of my early life was uneventful. I spent a lot of time in theoretical research, interested in the topics of how and why magic worked, but specifically, the interaction of two magical forces. Why some attacks seemed to be so devastating and others seemed to do no damage at all.  A spent a fair amount of years analyzing magic, categorizing it, writing formulae for the so called Stats, for LOVE, EXP, HP, ATK, DEF, INV, et cetera, et cetera.  Frankly, the field is incomplete; close enough for most situations, I think, but not perfect.  I found it wasteful to continue efforts on it.  I believe that the main goal of science is to improve life; if the science cannot be applied to do so, then I do not see the point in continuing it.”

“My studies were broad and varied.  Sometimes I’d dip into the health sciences, sometimes I’d dip into architecture.  I’d do odd favors for people, look into anything that caught my interest, sometimes even take up tasks for the King himself; ones of minor interest that he didn’t want to bother the Royal Scientist with.”

“But, the focal point of my studies always came back to energy.  What could we do with it?  How can we harness it?  All monsters are made up of energy, of magic, it’s inherent to our souls, the way we express ourselves, even our body is made of magic, turns into magical dust due to a complicated chemical reaction when HP is depleted.”

“This, of course, lead to my most famous accomplishment.  The idea of using magic to power things had been around forever, before recorded history.  But there was always a mage or monster involved, directly or indirectly powering the thing in question.  I sought to cut out the intentional casting of a spell to induce power.  After all, this entire Underground was full of ambient magic; from previous spells, simply from Monsters existing; recycled, reused, breathed in and out, baked into food and released again:  Why couldn’t the world itself power things?” 

“It turned out to be more complicated than expected; failure after failure taught me that it simply wasn’t feasible to use magic without a soul casting it.  But, we found another way--and to be fair, it wasn’t exactly an idea so much as exploratory research, but research with very promising results.  Promising enough to earn me another scar on my face, heh.  Had one of the other scientists not pulled me out of the way, I might have been destroyed by the CORE before the CORE was even a thing.”

“Nonetheless I was far from discouraged.  I was actually very ecstatic.  Enough so that Asgore had a very hard time calming me down and getting me to explain what had happened and why I had a new crack down my face.”

“I started work on the CORE immediately.  Sketching out blueprints and gathering people to start building the skeletal structure of the building while I put together the intricacies of the mechanism that would create and convert pure energy that could be harnessed and used for whatever purposes we desired.  It took a very long time, but it’s no doubt one of my greatest creations.  Asgore asked me to take up the position of Royal Scientist not long after.  I accepted, of course, I wouldn’t think of declining, but it was a very strange thing to me.”

“It wasn’t long after that when the human child arrived.  I remember hearing about it, one of the other scientists telling me that Asriel had chosen to keep the child.  Keep the child, I had thought, like a pet, like a person would choose to keep a dog or a cat.  I thought it frankly ridiculous, but having the human child around brought a new era of hope to the kingdom and, I, ... couldn’t resist being pulled along.  I personally thought that the idea of peace between humans and monsters was ridiculous, but it was such a pleasant idea and the people were so happy...”

“Of course, it didn’t last.  In a single night, both the human child and Asriel had passed away.  The duo had broken through the barrier, only to seal their own deaths.  It was a travesty.  A whirlwind of horrors, one after another.  The devastation, the despair--it was unlike anything I had ever experienced, even when humanity had first sealed us underground.  At least then, we had the relief of peace.  Now, we had nothing.”

“The King declared war on humanity.”

“It was a dark time.”

“The peaceful life I had was replaced by one of fear and anxiety.  I knew what humans were capable of.  I lived through it, I wore the mark of their hostility on my skull--and Asgore wanted to willingly throw us back into that over revenge?  We wouldn’t survive.  There was no way we’d survive.  But if there was any chance of giving us any sort of fighting chance, I was going to find it.” 

“My research turned from finding ways to make the underground better to combat.  Once again, energy proved to be my friend.  I revisited old research about LOVE and EXP and ATK and DEF--and wrote up a hypothesis about another state.  ITK.  Intent to Kill.  Unlike LOVE and EXP, which are slowly, solely increasing values, ITK rapidly fluctuates and acts as a modifier on attack.  Even a soul with a LOVE of 1 can do an extreme amount of damage if they, in a particular moment, are filled with the desire to kill the one they are striking.”

“Monsters aren’t made for war.  In general, monsters aren’t made for hurting each other.   It’s one of the many reasons we were slaughtered so mercilessly.  So I created a ... weapon.  That could circumvent that weakness.  The ITK Blasters, as I called them, could take even the smallest ITK and multiply it to do horrific damage.”

“I did other research on the topic as well.  How to convert HP into a temporary boost of ATK.  With these two advancements...even a monster as relatively weak as I am could be incredibly strong.”

“I wanted to perfect the techniques before I tried teaching them to anyone.  But, such things never came to pass.  Asgore lost his will to continue seeking war.  He knew that he had only declared war in a fit of rage and to give his people hope.  So rather than continue killing, he wanted to find a different way to bring everyone hope.  He wanted to find a way to break the barrier without anymore bloodshed.  He asked me to research the human souls.”

“...”

“I wanted no parts of it.  We got into a ... rather nasty fight.  I said a lot of things I regret.  I called him a coward for bending to the will of his people instead of doing what was right.  I told him that any attempt to breach the barrier would result in the complete extinction of our species.  I told him that it was his job as king to protect us, not lead us to our death.”

“I was angry and afraid, and I took it out on the wrong monster.”

“It’s about at this point that you really cannot understand my history without a basic understanding of how time flows.  I’ll spare you the lecture of multiple timelines and parallel realities, but at the very least, you must understand that the flow of time is... well, it is inherently linear, but, consider it like a... I want to say a Turing Machine.  Or perhaps, a VHS Tape.  The same segments can be replayed again and again, can be overwritten, can change from iteration to iteration.”

“So the fact that Asgore died in this timeline...and is still alive in the current timeline...it may at first seem contradictory, but it is not, I assure you.”

“Asgore’s death hit the Underground hard.  Undyne took over as Queen, but the knowledge that the last remaining member of the Royal Family was gone still loomed over everyone’s heads.  Undyne was more determined than Asgore ever was to free the monsters and I felt like there was nothing I could do.”

“So...There was little I did.  I was overwhelmed with grief and hatred.  I kept at the research.  I honed the abilities, again and again and again.  I drove myself to exhaustion, I isolated myself.  I barely slept and ate.  I neglected my duties and while the others understood I was grieving, it eventually got to the point that Queen Undyne delivered the ultimatum that I had to either get my act together or surrender my position as Royal Scientist.  I resigned without any argument.”

“Much of the time is a blur.  Most of my studies and research done with poor practices and hardly documented.  The research that lead to me creating Sans falls into this. I wished to know if...  

“Of course, two monsters can create another soul.  This much is obvious, monsters reproduce on a regular basis, enough that in the modern day, there’s an ongoing population crisis for monsters that need certain environments.  But I wanted to know if ... a monster, could theoretically, singularly donate a portion of their soul and create another living monster out of it.”

“This is probably a piece of research that very much fits the criteria of not stopping to think whether or not I should try to do so.”

“It required extracting part of my soul.  Which, to do so without killing the monster, requires a massive power source...luckily, or unluckily, I had the entire CORE at my disposal.  So I constructed a machine that could, indeed, extract part of my soul.  What resulted was the most painful experience of my life and left me comatose for six months.  It’s also the cause of the circular scars in my palms.”

“I hadn’t intended to extract two pieces of my soul, but, it happened, whether through oversight or simply as a matter of how the procedure was carried out.  I used the smaller piece to create Sans; intending to keep the larger piece for further study.  I destroyed everything used in the experiment afterwards.  I felt it was something that no monster should have the power to do.”

“That’s not to say I regret creating them.  I don’t, and nothing will ever change that opinion, even knowing some of the terrible things they’ve done in other timelines.  But I do regret the methods that lead to their creation.”

“I don’t know why Sans is so weak.  And I resisted the urge to try to figure it out.  There’s a fine line between a healthy interest in your child’s health and treating them as a science experiment, and I ... wanted to stay as far away as possible from that line.  He’s fine the way he is.  He doesn’t need to be fixed.”

“That didn’t stop me from using the second piece of my soul to create Papyrus to look after him, though.  Or teaching him magic to the best of my ability, even teaching him how to use the Gaster Blasters.”

“Having them...helped.  A lot.  I won’t say whether I was very good at it, but I enjoyed being a father very much.  The grief was still heavy, but I was able to start returning to a somewhat normal life, and even start following what was going on in the Underground again.  I learned of Doctor Alphys’s research on the human souls, and though I personally disagreed with it... decided to look into it in Asgore’s honor.”

“My immediate thought was that her ideas about Determination could mesh well with my previous research about soul extraction, albeit with a few modifications--although I had destroyed the equipment I used for the process, I remembered it well enough.  So I got to work on a theoretical DT Extractor; but the further I got with it, the more horrified I became.”

“I simply couldn’t tolerate the idea of it.  Humans or not, already dead or not--the mere idea of extracting the literal lifeforce out of a soul...  No.  It was not a process I would condone.”

“I had just finalized my decision to destroy the blueprints when I fell.”

“It was... a laughably simple mistake, really.  The CORE is designed to rearrange itself to prevent the wear from the heat from causing too much damage in any one area.  The doors pneumatically seal themselves to prevent egress during this time but...  I was simply too distracted by the blueprints and I opened the door, and walked through anyways.”

“There were no further safeguards.  There was nothing I could do to save myself.  It was over before I had a chance.”

“...”

“I don’t regularly talk about my time in the void.  Not because doing so bothers me, but because it’s simply... indescribable.  When I awoke, I couldn’t breathe.  I couldn’t move.  I couldn’t speak.  There was no me, but my consciousness existed.  I could see and hear thousands of timelines at once, as if I was standing in an arena, with each and every seat filled with a television playing a different movie.  A jumbling mess of information.”

“I have no idea how long I was there for.  It was like learning to exist all over again.  Step by step.  Learning how to move closer to visions of interest.  Learning how to seep into those visions.  Learning how to block out the immense noise.  Learning how to speak without a body.  Learning how to see the void.  Learning how to construct a body out of it.  Learning how to hunt down my timeline.”

“In many ways, it was a rebirth, and with each and every step, I lost more of myself.  I lost myself to the aching hole of my soul being missing.  I lost my conscience, I lost my heart.  I dedicated everything to the endless goal of stitching myself back together again.”

“I learned so much about the reality I live in.  How malleable it and time is.  I evolved into something grotesque, something that shouldn’t be alive.  I gained power that no monster or human should have.  Things, and even souls, could be changed at my whim.  And yet the one thing I truly wanted seemed to be impossible.”

“I did a lot of terrible things while I was stuck like that.  Some were intentional, some less so.  Many were reset thanks to Flowey, others will never be fixed.”

“I have Sans to thank for finally helping me to achieve the goal, even if not fully.  He built a machine that gathered enough of my soul that... I’m able to manifest my original form and can think clearly once again.”

“Even so...  It didn’t change the fact that my soul is still shattered, somehow held together by the tug-of-war between Determination and Void, and that my fall into the Void reset the timeline into a state where I never existed.”

“And that leads us to now.  The Gaster you currently speak to exists in a timeline that has made it to the surface, though I’m not particularly fond of being up there and generally hide in my lab in the CORE.”

“Well, I certainly hope you didn’t expect even a rundown of over a thousand years to be short.”

“...Or, were you posing the question to someone other than myself...?”

[trashgirl20]

I think there are a lot of reasons why Jess Mariano is one of the only characters on Gilmore Girls that I actually like these days, but the main reason is that we are practically the same person. Only we have different life experiences. Basically Jess is me if I had a neglectful, abusive childhood.

There are three main complaints that I see about Jess, and I would like to discuss and defend each one.

1. Social Problems

It has bothered me for years the way that the other characters in the show, and even some fans, demonize Jess for not wanting to go with Rory to the Winter Carnival or for forgetting to call her like one time. I can't even tell you how many times I have been treated like some kind of rude freak for not wanting to join my ex at his huge, noisy youth group. I can't tell you how many times I got guilted into going to something I didn't want to go to and felt completely miserable while there.

It's not fair or healthy to say, "you're dating me so you have to therefore do everything I request of you at all times". This is also a complaint that we never actually saw from Rory, only the fans; which is very telling imo.

2. Disrespect

Another complaint against Jess that I see is that he was disrespectful towards adults, which I'm not going to argue only defend.

Why exactly does Jess owe any citizen of Stars Hollow respect? They labeled him a "bad kid" within minutes of meeting him, tried to exile him (which is just ridiculous considering this isn't Ancient Greece, and he was a minor), blames him for a car accident that could have happened to anyone (yes even Saint Dean), and failed him his senior year of high school without once speaking to him or his legal guardian. The whole town is filled with condescending man-babies and gossipy old women. In what way are any of these people deserving of his respect?

3. Avoidance

The final major issue that I see is Jess' avoidance of difficult and uncomfortable situations. For example, lying about the black eye and going to California without telling Rory.

I would just like to say that I really don't think that Jess did the wrong thing by leaving to California to meet his father. I think that considering he was a homeless, high school drop out in a town that wasn't going to do him any favors, and had just been in a really nasty fistfight with his girlfriends ex, I think he did the right thing for himself by leaving. Should he have said goodbye to Rory before he left? Yes, of course. However, I think if the worst thing you ever did in your life was ghost a girl because you didn't know how to tell her that you were really, really lost, then you're not such a bad person.

I think the hate that Jess recieves for his few unhealthy coping mechanisms and life choices (that he does everything he can to fix before reaching 22) is honestly disgusting when compared to the other characters in the show like Rory who has multiple affairs, Luke who has a kid and keeps it from his fiancée, Lorelai who also has affairs, Jackson who impregnated his wife after lying about having a Vasectomy, and Logan and Dean who are also manipulative adulterers. In comparison, Jess being a little bit anti-social and rude and running from his problems at 18 years old is not that bad.

It's also not fair to compare the attitude and actions of an abused, neglected CHILD to a bunch of priveledged, grown adults.

[werezmastarbucks]

Whitmore Guy and the eternal studs

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

word count: 3158

warnings: language

As summer exams were approaching, the pressure on the students of Whitmore grew immensely. And Y/N was the one who felt it clearest of all. Each student, whether depressed, or just stressed, felt only their own weight pulling them down. Y/N had to be the anchor for all of them at once.

In the incredible fuss of early June she didn’t notice that a bunch of young people were very behind in their studies. When she finished filing out all of their graduate papers and closing documents for their rented apartments, she realized at least twenty people from the whole Whitmore did not show up for their preliminary sessions in the end of May. Three of them were missing, and the police already knew about it. A week later, after Damon had finally submitted the heads to the Mystic Falls sheriff, their identities were confirmed, and the college had a big wake for them. Their names were Sheila Bent, Christopher Harris and Taylor Whitaker. Y/N remembered them from her everyday work, and they weren’t unusual; all three, like the rest of the bodies dragged to Damon’s lawn, were Mystic Falls residents. Rebekah left the town for some time, led away by Klaus. Of course, her brother was defensive of her, aggressive, even, however, the pressure of the surviving town, the main core specifically, made it uneasy for him. Y/N was honestly baffled by how him being in love with Caroline changed his attitude. How easy it is to break you, and to manipulate you, when you’re into somebody. And how nasty it is, when this somebody is not entirely on your side.

The rest of the students, who were now in the danger of getting kicked from the college, swarmed her office for the whole first half of June; pleading, begging, crying hysterically, and throwing tantrums. Yesterdays’ mature young people transformed in an almost inexplicable way. There were some athletes among them; there was a brilliant science student Alana May, whom Y/N always liked for her reasonable attitude. All of them changed into these whining kids who did not know what to do now, that they spent half a month somewhere, and couldn’t cope with their deadlines. The situation got thousand times weirder after Y/N found that they all said one and the same thing when asked what the hell they’d been doing.

They said, we were having a party. Fifteen people from different faculties, studying different things, who have never been seen before, of different age and interests, were all having party for at least two weeks, all together.

It was Damon’s birthday, and he could not wish for anything better than investigating the college drama. Although, Y/N did not call it a drama specifically; she said it was more of a sinister mystery. Damon strongly advised her not to contact the failing students again before he gets his head in. When people go missing and then return, having completely changed their behavior, there can only be one explanation, that is – in his world. They’ve been turned.

“Ah-what?!” she yelled.

“When did they come in?” Damon asked knowingly.

“All at a different time – but in the working hours. Which are during the day”.

“Did you look for the lapis lazuli?”

“No, I did not. I’ve been more busy trying to calm down four people at a time. I don’t even have lunch these days, I have so much work”.

“God, the IT guy must miss you”.

Y/N snorted bitterly.

“Joke’s on you, Damon. He brings me coffee every morning”.

“Ew. Anyway, try something if you see any them. I’ll be there by three. Gather them all in one room and I’ll stake them”.

She pressed her fingers between her eyebrows, trying to pull the migraine out. How is she not screaming at him yet.

“You’re not going to come to Whitmore and stake fifteen people who you think are vampires”.

“I’m pretty damn sure gonna. I have a lot of things to do today”.

“Like what? Buy yourself a cake?”

Damon gasped on the other side of the line.

“What? You’re not getting me cake?”

Of course not, she thought. Cakes are traditionally on Caroline.

“Damon, you gotta have at least a picture of a plan before we do it. It’s your faint assumption. Maybe it’s something worse. Or something else. Maybe they joined a cult or something. Maybe they’ve turned into very normal human terrorists”.

“Good thinking, Y/N. Get them all together. By three”.

“Don’t you think it would make more sense to first talk to one of them if you want to check?”

Damon was silent for a moment.

“Yeah, good idea”.

He hung up.

She thought, standing by the window, as she looked out on the parking lot and the football field behind it. Why would Rebekah turn all these people? Was she bitten by the same family craving bug as Klaus once was? In what world all this turning, heads ripping stuff made any sense to her? The summer solstice was getting dangerously close, and Y/N had a bad feeling. There was always a massacre timed to a big cosmic or festive event in this god forsaken town. Every Founder’s Day – someone tries to butcher half of population. And she didn’t even want to remember the Halloween party back in 2009. Or the Perseids night four years ago. Some freak put a bunch of people inside of trees everywhere in the park using magic. They never caught him, of course… those were the weird times, when they failed, once and again, to prevent tragedies. Then it just ended. There were couple of strange cases in Mystic Falls, never solved. The greatest regret of the former sheriff Liz Forbs, before she died, was never solving the case of who killed her father and grandmother.

Thank God she didn’t live to see what happened to Matt.

Y/N decided to find and secure Alana May when Damon comes. She liked her the best, and she had a great hope to save her, if anything as horrible happened to her.

Y/N closed her laptop and left her office, walking to the teacher’s room to see Alaric and involve him a bit. His life has been getting far too boring lately.

She also discovered Mal together with him. The Occult Professor was sitting in his chair, looking into his computer intensely, and Mal clearly did not read the signs of his body – or didn’t want to. Standing right behind his shoulder, he pushed Ric’s back with his stomach, and spoke straight into the poor man’s ear.

“Huh, and then she was like, I don’t really believe that you’re already closing to thirty. I was like, ma’am, just because I’m clean shaven, like any other civilized individual… I mean, you know, not to say anything about your majestic beard, Ric, but I’ve never been able to grow anything like that. There are some people, you know…”

All the while his fingers were working on the keyboard disconnected from his brain completely. Ric’s face expressed misery, and Y/N chuckled, watching them, as she sat down behind someone’s unoccupied desk.

“Hey”, Mal smiled, looking at her briefly.

“Y/N”, Alaric stood up with a swing, almost hitting Mal in the face with his elbow. “I was just thinking about you. I need to talk to you. Can we…”

Mal looked up at them curiously, and a sly smile curled his lips. Half of the time he was pissing Saltzman just for the sake of it.

“Yeah, same”, Y/N gestured, inviting him to leave the room since Mal was working. Together, they stepped out into the corridor, which was sunny, smelled of summer, and stood half empty as it was morning.

“Heavenly God”, the man puffed, looking her in the eyes, “how do you stand that person?”

She was still giggling.

“Serious stuff, Ric. You remember I complained to you about those students who chucked on their studies and were running around on fire?”

A line lay between his eyebrows.

“Uh-huh”.

“Damon thinks they’ve been turned. It’s a bit soon to tell, but when I think about it, it makes sense. They all became like one: impatient, nervous, and very short-tempered. There haven’t been any killings yet… that I know of”.

She looked at him with a question. Saltzman shook his head.

“That’s a morbid picture, if he’s right. You think they’re connected with that massacre at the Salvatore mansion?”

“We don’t know if they are vampires yet. Let’see first. He’s coming over today at three”.

Ric put his palm on Y/N’s shoulder.

“Shall we give him his present then?”

The door opened, and Mal walked into them.

“Aw, my bad. The room’s free, if you want it. Y/N, you wanna grab a beer after work?”

“Not today, Mal”, Y/N watched him tilt his head musingly. “We got uh- a thing to do”.

“Oh, the hybristophiliac police gathering. Got it”.

He looked hurt though. Y/N understood very well what he felt at that moment. There they stood, two very different people, part of her outer world, and part of her inner dimension. Ever since Mal came round, the prose of her life became even more boring. Mal was like leaving your house on a fresh morning. You don’t really wanna do that shit anymore. You want to make lava lamps in his basement, listen to his favorite music, and watch Dr Pepper cans fall out of their slots.

“Not really, it’s…”

Ric was watching them both with mist in his eyes.

“Anyway, let’s do it tomorrow”.

“Whatever. Not like I wanted to tell you something super important. It’ll wait”, he smiled and waved them with his quick ringed hand.

“I’ll go get Alana”, Ric put his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “And you watch out for the rest of them”.

“Uh-huh”, Y/N said, still watching Mal walk away. Cindy/Sandy caught her eye. As he walked past her, the girl followed him with a glance, too, and then turned and looked directly at Y/N. Something was off about that look, more than just a “woah, we’re checking out the same guy”. Y/N brushed it off. Not now. Not fucking now.

“Alright, I’ll get her into your office by three”.

“Call me if something happens”.

All those phrases were rehearsed and vocalized hundreds of times. All that routine was suffocating. Y/N walked back to her place thinking about Cindy/Sandy. Maybe she should check her name after all, to finally memorize it.

Damon was there by two-fifty. At three straight, there was a knock at her door, and Alana, led by Alaric, came into her office. Damon’s eyes were highlighted by the sunlight penetrating through the windows like juice. All pale, with bright turquoise, focused and a bit frustrated already, he moved towards the girl without a word.

Alana didn’t have time to react. The vampire took her by the shoulder, as Alaric snapped the door closed, and looked at her like a doctor with at least a century experience.

Only, Salvatore gaze wasn’t caring or curious. It was examining the depths of Alana’s majestic dark brown eyes with cold concentration, and his hard hand never left the girl’s shoulder. Y/N stood next to her, a kind of a maternal instinct rising in her, to protect her from… whatever.

“What are you now?” Damon asked quietly. Alana was looking at him with confusion on her beautiful face. She eyed the man almost angrily, and then replied,

“I’m Alana. Who are you?”

She looked at Y/N for assistance.

“What’s going on?”

“Look at me”, Damon ordered quietly, but with great significance. Y/N got a glimpse of what attracted her to this individual long time ago; he was a very obvious alpha. He was also extremely irritated all the time, which somehow added to his charm. Maybe she just liked the mean type.

Alana stared at Damon, looking all the more lost, and suddenly he straightened up, his face going a dead mask, jaws clenched.

“She’s been turned”.

“What?” Y/N barked, leaning to the student. Alana was turning her head absently at this point, trying to gain someone’s attention, but afraid to stand up as Damon was towering over her.

“Who turned you?” Y/N asked. Alana looked at her, and her eyes went blank.

“What do you mean? What the fuck is going on here?”

Heating up, the girl tried to get up, but Damon pushed her back down roughly. Y/N took him by the shoulder, and he didn’t fail to catch her hand in his inescapable clutch.

“Look”.

He bared his teeth like a tiger yawning, and bit her wrist in a flash, so fast, Y/N couldn’t feel pain at first. She only felt stinging when the first thick, dark drops of blood started to fill on her skin. She could yell at him later, and roll her eyes, too. She looked down at Alana, whose gaze was now focused on her completely. Suddenly, the girl’s face grimaced in pain, and she pushed herself deeper into the armchair, crying out,

“I can’t! Please”, her mouth opened in horror, long fangs growing out of her gums; a familiar black web of swollen veins evened out under her eyes, but she looked at Y/N.

“Your blood, I can’t take it, I can’t…”

But her thirst was stronger. Shaking and convulsing, Alana jumped out, throwing herself over the armchair, just as Damon wrapped his arms around Y/N. It was all too fast, at the vampire speed which always made everything look like changing pictures. Alana threw herself back, right onto another human: Alaric. He was a bad victim, all with instincts and ready hands that never failed him. Y/N bumped into her desk, moved it with her body, pushed away by Salvatore. Damon wanted to step forward to Alana and pushed away the armchair she’d been sitting in, so hard that it collapsed into the bookcase, breaking the glass and scattering the pieces of it. Alaric was pinned to the door, head tilted down, and Alana was immediately pushed to him. She gave out a groan, all too familiar, for Y/N not to understand.

She balanced herself back to her feet, but it was already too late. Salvatore took the student’s body away from Ric, and, having checked that she was dead, took the stake out.

“Good reflexes”, he nodded, carefully placing Alana on the floor.

“Not her”, Y/N moaned. It was her mistake. She chose her to bring here, to Damon. This death was on her.

Y/N ran her fingers through her hair, thinking. She looked at her bookcase and the glass on the floor. Oh how she could’ve used that beer after work.

“God fucking dammit”, she uttered, taking the armchair and pushing it further, to the window.

“How many are there left?” Damon asked. Y/N thought about them with horror. Right now, there’s a group of young vampires, high on thirst and anxiety, getting their blood devil knew where, scattered around the campus. One of them could be flirting with Mal.

“So, we’re not gonna talk about it?” Alaric walked towards the body and then looked at Y/N. “A newly turned vampire, that’s unable to withstand the call of blood, manages to avoid biting you, because, apparently she’s been compelled. If that’s still Rebekah, then I’m completely confused”.

Damon turned to her and gave her the longest look. Y/N felt like the vampire was staring right into her, down to her every little bone, and a nasty feeling crawled into her brain. There was something to do with her. There was a thought, in the back of her mind, almost on the brink of subconscious, that she pushed away and couldn’t reach anymore. The only sensation left was guilt. Why did she feel guilty, like she was hiding something? Why was Damon staring at her like that? He was the third already, that day.

She was walking across the football field. Thank God they didn’t make her run around the campus and look for the remaining fourteen failing students. She was swinging Alana’s keys between her fingers, looking for her car on the other side of the road. She failed to find it in the parking lot and decided to check in the street. It was a normal thing now, deaths. People died pretty often in Mystic Falls and its suburbia. Weird things, awful things happened there. They knew about it even back in Seattle. So, technically, if you come to study or live here, you claim that you’re ready to take the risks. It just bothered Y/N that deaths didn’t bother her anymore. How much does it take off a person to become jaded? It certainly wasn’t that much for her, and yet, she was calm. She’s just seen one of the best Whitmore students die pointlessly; out of Alaric’s paranoid stake throwing. And all she felt was frustration. The new knot to untie, the whole new bunch of threads to pull on. And what if someone really important gets in the way?

She finally found it, a dark blue Honda. Y/N took it back to the campus, circling the building and stopping it at the back entrance. Damon came out with the body and put it in the trunk.

“Tha-ank you”, he clicked his tongue, taking the keys from her. Ric appeared next to him and looked at Y/N with the same silent question.

“You know, if they all were compelled not to feed on you, you’re going to lure them all by yourself”.

“I won’t be luring anyone”, Y/N protested, “we don’t have to kill them. I’m sick of this… favoritism. Either kill all new vampires, or save them all. Imagine it was Bonnie, who’s been turned yesterday. You wouldn’t have staked her”.

Damon puffed.

“Oh, sweet lord. Don’t tell her that. The idea of being a vampire makes her go suicidal this quick”, he snapped his fingers and got into the car.

“Damon’s going to take care of little Alana” he announced, letting down the window, “and you find the rest of their bunch and assess them”.

Ric’s phone rang. He answered it quickly, lifting his palm as if to say, wait a second. Then he looked at them both:

“Caroline’s asking if we’re still up for tonight, at the Grill”.

“Are we really doing the party?” Y/N inquired, morosely.

Damon hummed like he did when a very bad, murderous idea came to him.

“Make it Craze. And Y/N, let everybody know that there’s a lit party tonight. It’s going to be totally sick or whatever you kids say. Let them all come”, he winked, and started the engine.

“That would be dangerous”, Ric tried to reason with him.

“Young vampires won’t be able to resist an opportunity to party”, Y/N thought out loud. “Loud music, lots of hot blood, and excitement”.

“And piles of dead bodies”, Saltzman noted, watching as Alana’s car sped away from the campus.

[yhsujin]

first of all i haven’t been in a group for some time so excuse me if i’m fuckin’ slow but omg im!!!! so excited to be here!!! i’m lea ( 22, she/her, gmt+8 ) and this is my baby nam sujin, who is the leader & lead vocalist of june. tbh i’m still in the middle of figuring her out so pls bear with me. here are her stats / profile / biography if you wanna read, but i’d also talk about her more under the cut!!! no plot page bc we don’t do that here aka im actually lazy rip please give this a heart if you would like to plot and i shall slide in your ims soon <33 if you’d rather plot on discord, feel free to ask for my username or give yours so we can talk there!!!

tldr bio:

nam sujin, 23, idol, leader & lead vocalist of june

she came from a middle class family, is the second & youngest child, has been living in her older sister’s shadow since she was born bc her mother thinks her sister is better than her :’)

she grew up trying to impress her mother but nothing she did was ever good enough, so by the time she turned 14 she’s like im over it and started to do things just to piss her mother off

literally just a nice kid turned bad bc Life Made Me Do It

music has always been a huge part of her life and she genuinely enjoys singing - another thing that pissed her mother off bc she thinks singing and listening to music are a waste of a time, but that’s the only thing that makes sujin happy so she’s like sorry mom can’t hear u im busy listening to music

never thought of becoming an idol bc she didn’t think she’s good enough for it but she accompanied a friend to bde audition one day and was encouraged by the company to give it a try, so she sang for them and surprise. she passed the audition!!!!

her mother wasn’t too happy about her decision to become an idol, thinking it wasn’t even a real profession to begin with, so she left home and never looked back bc she’s determined to make her dream come true (and also bc she just hated being home)

one of the ace trainees in the company, but it took her multiple delays of debut and two survival shows for her to finally become an idol - she had almost wanted to quit when she failed the second survival show but she ended up staying when bde announced they would be debuting the first girl group!!! and she’s in!!!

kinda upset that she’s not the main vocalist and hated the idea of being a leader at first. she thinks it’s Too Much work, but somehow managed to suck it up and did her best anyways

still hates her role in the group, but girl is Trying Her Best. keyword: try

wants to produce her own songs one day 

etcetera:

sujin was bright as a child, but eventually she grew bitter and jealous of her sister (mostly bc she always gets everything and is absolutely better than her, but she’d never admit it out loud)

actually a smart kid. she’s not that far behind her sister, but her mother always makes it seems like sujin is 1000x worse than she is, so bc of that she becomes really insecure and thinks she’s never good enough for anything but also at the same time she’s like i’m better than u

which means she fakes self-confidence bc she has none and to quote marina and the diamonds: 'cause i feel like i'm the worst, so i always act like i'm the best

due to her upbringing and the constant failure she went through during training, she’s gotten a little cutthroat in her ways of doing things, so if she’s set her mind on something, she’s gonna get it no matter what it takes

although she seems calm and relaxed on the outside, she can get hella competitive when she needs to be bc she hates losing

often misunderstood as cold and unapproachable bc she’s usually quiet and distant, especially with strangers, but she just needs the right people to bring out the goofy side of hers sometimes

on-stage persona: playful, flirtatious, sometimes sensual, girl crush

off-stage persona: quiet, distant, could be chaotic when she wants to, savage

has definitely twerk on tv several times before bc she can

loves her june girls to death, and it shows from the way she takes good care of them, but won’t deadass admit she cares for them

about her rumor that she hates her members: sujin just naturally has bitchy expressions on her and some netizen has called her out for being unprofessional or whatsoever bc she definitely has been giving looks or stares at her members and staffs on camera before, and sometimes her actions or words get mistaken for her hating her members (she used to be on bad terms w some of the members and was the Biggest Bitch to them but nope you didn’t hear that from me)

also the type to rarely express her affection in words bc 1) she doesn’t know how to do that shit and 2) she’s a huge tsundere so all she’s got is tough love to offer

will definitely 10/10 judge you bc girl can have opinions, she said

she’s quite blunt when it comes to her opinions, doesn’t really like to sugar coat things

skill-wise she’s a great vocalist, is also quite decent in dancing but again it’s a Lot of Work, she would rather just sit down and sing her heart out instead

would deadass self-sabotage when things get a little too happy and peaceful for her bc she thinks she deserves nothing good :(

which is why shes always caught up in toxic relationships but they usually start with her bc shes a Messy Bitch

instead of talking about her feelings she would just rather lash out at someone bc that’s easier and that’s how she copes with stress, except now she goes clubbing and gets her ass drunk when she needs to unwind

has a nasty temper especially when she’s super tired, but would totally try to keep it lowkey when she’s in public bc she has a Reputation to maintain but will likely go off if it’s in private

really likes to go out and spend time w her friends whenever she has off days

looks like a bad bitch but she’s actually rly sensitive and just wants to be loved

i repeat she’s a messy bitch so if our plot suddenly goes from soft and wholesome to angsty out of nowhere it’s her, it’s ALWAYS her

with that being said pls gimme angst plots bc i live for them <3333

[movingfoward291]

I have Depression. It’s a slow eating disease that affects the mind that also brings about anxiety and restlessness. I struggle with anxiety almost on a daily basis. I wanted to bring about a new dawn in my life by writing my thoughts somewhere, where I hope that more and more people can gaze upon it and realize they are not the only ones going through the motions. The current pandemic and in light of certain situations has cause a large influx of people to realize this, or not and I want to share. The other reason I want to right these blogs is due to self-reflection and my recent toxic relationship with who I thought was the one for me. I guess we can start there and get his blog post going. 

 I was 17 when I met my baby mama. She was 17 as well, and she lived two towns over, and we were infatuated with each other. We constantly talked through text message and always hung out whenever we could. I didn’t have a good relationship with my parents and we constantly fought. Looking back at it, I don’t think I was looking for the right things. As a 17-year-old boy the only thing on your mind at that time, is to have sex. But I mixed two feelings, wanting sex and affection that I never received when I was in my own house. Things went by in our toxic relationship and low and behold we broke up a year after our son was born. That was when I started realizing that I started feeling more and more depressed. I was looking for once was a part of our relationship, I started wanting to be in another relationship and wanted to fix what happened. I started dating and seeing other people during a time when I should have been focusing on myself. I dropped out of school the year prior which meant I had more time to focus on the things that made me happy. Which for that time was video games, cars and women. It didn’t help me at all. I, then, met another girl that I started dating around that time. Let’s call her Del. 

Del and I met a year after my baby mama and I broke up. We met off of Tinder and it was mostly a bunch of flirting and sex talk. We met during that time while she was up here from SoCal for work. We met at a local hotel at the time, because, I was flat broke and didn’t have a place to stay and was living back at my parents. It was suppose to be a one night stand and we ended up staying the night together and seeing each other multiple times after that. We moved way to fast. She decided to stay up here after her job tried to send her back and moved into a room for rent. Shortly there after I was kicked out my house and started hanging out with my cousins and living in my car. I would go to her house for weeks on end, and stay in my car some nights. What I didn’t know, is that my anxiety started to show along with my depression. I never wanted to do anything for her. I would show affection but only when I wanted to. I started to vape heavily and constantly wanted to drink. Looking back on that relationship, I know now that it was toxic. I was using her for my own benefit to feel better about myself but the other thing that I never noticed was that I was in a relationship for one of the wrong reasons. I was looking to fix her.

           When Del and I broke up, it was a nasty. We had an argument the night before and we had been in each others faces. But the first indication that the relationship was bad and or worse was when I tried to salvage things. I wanted to go out and vape and cool off. She wouldn’t let me and told me if I was going to go out and do that, that she was done. And that was the first moment that I stood up for myself and stepped out. In my anxiety of leaving Del I was force by myself to come back asking for forgiveness just to stay in the comfort of being in my depression, and having a roof over my head. When I came back, she wouldn’t say anything and I later met her at the local mall for her to drop off all of my stuff into a tight little 90’s SUV.

           It was shortly after this that I had bump on my head. I’m the type of person that only changes when something happens that destroys me inside. About three months after we broke up, I started vaping more and drinking. This was mostly because of my depression and the fact that I didn’t know how to cope with myself. One day though my friend that I was super close with and helped me deal with a previous break up helped me get motivation to better myself. I found anime. When I was growing up, Dragonball Z was all the rage and kids from the school yard would always talk about. It was on in the evening right after school and it was amazing! For a kid that didn’t know how to express themselves by talking, watching a listening to people talk helped. This show taught me to deal with bullies in the only natural way: by fighting back. But that was 7-12 year old me that dealt with stuff like that. How is that beneficial for a man that is 26 years old and has a child. You can’t scream and yell all the time. It was much more than that a surface level. When I started watching the show again, I was realizing something that ignited a fire in my soul. Why do I keep attracting people that are overweight and unhappy with themselves or had really bad situations or home life. Why does everyone that I come into contact to likes me even though I’m not that hot. I’m over weight and always have been. Late one night, my cousin and my friend decided to call me up and ask me to

Head to the gym with them. That night lit a fire in my soul that made me focus on myself. I started working out. I pushed myself, I pushed myself to loose some weight and focusing on bodybuilding. I wanted to be like Arnold, and just be bigger. And then the Dragonball Super made my focus even grander. I wanted to go beyond myself to have a body like the guys on DragonBall, I grew into that fashion of getting up early and heading to the gym and getting bigger and pushing myself harder. And I was loving it. I was working at auto dealership and I was making better money than what I was the year before. I pushed myself to the maximum and made excellent gains as the bodybuilder call it. I felt better for once with my depression even though I was still dealing with a lot of that. I was dealing with a crappy home life situation with my extended family.

 Then once again, I was out on the street. I was depressed and turned to tinder for that dopamine affect. I need companion ship and didn’t have the friends that were around the time that would help. However, the gym took a back burner and was only used to shower every day which should have been my main source of a crutch. As a famous philosopher once said, Hindsight is 20/20. Once things at work started to ramp up, I caught a lot of overtime. I would push myself to stay at work till the late evenings clean and doing things to work on my car. I felt like I was getting nowhere. Then I met Danni who was another one of my ex-girlfriends. Now Danni was completely different than most of the girls that I date (or so I thought).

Let me tell you guys that my two other exes were okay but Danni was drop dead gorgeous. I was infatuated the first night her and I met on Tinder (wow tinder should be paying for this). She was funny and good listener, and everything that Del was not. And things went well the first night that we met. Shortly thereafter, there was something that was not right and popped a red flag. She was very independent which in my mind was cool, but she was very very independent. She didn’t want to ever hangout because of her schedule but for someone who was infatuated, she didn’t want to spend time with someone that gave her the time of day. Which someone for me was something that I like to do. I want to get to know people and for me that level of attachment is a turn off for people. But for me I pushed those thoughts down and continued our relationship. That was the turn point again. We thankfully didn’t live together, and this was probably the shortest relationship in this entire story. But this had the biggest impact, I didn’t want another girlfriend that was like her. We dated, she needed space, and then wanted to date. She was very indecisive and didn’t want the same thing as me, and that she said things I felt were to make me happy.

 We broke things off in August of 2018 and that was final straw that broke the camels back. I stopped going the gym and felt on hard times. I got a new car and wanted to slam that thing into a pole. Things were bad and I felt like there was nothing that could make things. Then my most recent ex came into the picture. For once this was someone that was local, and that was amazing. I was homeless still and this was the perfect opportunity to move in and get on the rent that was already made. This time, however, I fell in love for the wrong reasons. But this time it took forever to realize what was wrong this time. I gained more insight on the relationship. She was very head strong but terrible with money, she was bad with doing things such as working out for herself. She always started a workout plan that would end with in her running to fast food. She would go back to being mopey and sitting around. Then things were made worse once the pandemic hit. I gained weight and had my anxiety and depression get worse. I didn’t see a way out. 8 months into 2020, she thought our relationship was toxic and choose herself and I think in my own mind, I knew we were done way before 2020 started. She wasn’t good enough to be around my son and I force myself into a relationship and caused it me more heartbreak. But this is where my epiphany started to happen. When we broke up, I didn’t cry. I didn’t get angry or do anything that would cause me to be toxic. Something in me that I haven’t felt since pre 2020 that would happen. I started school and focused on that for once. I pushed myself for one week to start running. I pushed myself to finish my runs every day. And this fire pushed me to realized that my hinderance with people is not with the people themselves. Its my own fault that I keep getting into relationships that do not work for me. I get into relationships where I find a person that seems broken and attract towards them. They aren’t relationships but me trying to fix things. That, couple with my depression lash outs and anxiety, make a tornado of shit that doesn’t work for anyone. And I think there is a correlation between me and my body type attracting people who are lazy and don’t want to work on themselves. But once again, I need to find myself and learn to love my self too. Dealing with depression and anxiety has caused me to learn that things in myself needs to change. Not only in my mind but physically. There are things that needs to be worked on and things that are coming in the following weeks related to thing as I’m still living with my ex that correlated with me. I hope that someone realizes that their situations differ, but we suffer from the same, disease and have to handle things in a different way.

Anyways guys take care and be safe. Treat each other well. Even though things are bad right now, things could be worse. Way worse. 

[argylemikewheeler]

| Richie misses his life in Maine– and someone in particular– and Mike realizes that Will moving away from Hawkins is making him feel the same way |

Standing at the kitchen sink, Mike could smell the smoke floating up from the backyard. He placed his cup down and yanked the window open the rest of the way, just enough for him to lean over and stick his head out. Richie was sitting, cross-legged and barefoot in the grass, head against the house paneling and glasses hanging on his shirt collar. He held a lit cigarette in his right hand, while his left held a piece of folded paper again his chest. The ripped envelope laid carefully between some untrimmed blades of grass.

“Mom’s going to kill you, you know that?” Mike said loudly.

Richie jerked and opened his eyes, but blinked the shock from his face. “Oh yeah? Well whose do you think these are? Holly’s?”

“Just because you found them in her dresser doesn’t mean they’re hers.” Mike sighed. “They’re the same ones she took from you last week.”

“As far as I’m concerned, these are Mom’s cigarettes. She’s the one with the nasty habit.” Richie rebutted, letting his eyes close again.

“You better put that out. The house is going to reek.”

“Eh, better than that fucking shit and piss candle Mom’s got burning.” Richie said, lifting his hand to wave Mike away.

“It’s peony, Richie.”

“It’s putrid.”

“Would you just put it out?” Mike insisted, wiping his hands. He leaned back onto his feet and walked through the kitchen to the backdoor. He unlocked the door– which if it was locked, Mike wasn’t sure how Richie got outside unless he used the windows… which might probably have been it– and poked his head outside. “Richie, I’m not kidding. Put it out.”

“No.” Richie rebutted quickly, but seemed to lack all fire in his shot back. He sounded tired; his head only lolling to the side to face Mike. He squinted against the sunshine and his nearsightedness.

“Rich, come on.” Mike stepped down from the porch quickly, his bare feet sliding in the grass, as he reached over for Richie’s cigarette. It still rested only in his hand. “Give it to me!”

“Hey, fuck off, shitbird!” Richie cried, twisting and falling onto his back. He stuck a foot out and nearly pushed Mike in the stomach. “Leave me alone!”

“Before Mom comes back, just put it out!”

“NO! I’m not even smoking it!” Richie argued, pointing at the slow column of ash forming at the end of the cigarette. Mike blinked at him– he wasn’t born yesterday. “I’m not. I’m really not. Promise. I’m just… lighting it.”

“What, like an incense? What do you think I am, Richie. A fucking idiot?” Mike retorted, yanking his brother upright.

Upon putting his glasses back on, Richie’s face didn’t unfurrow; he still looked pensive and sharp. He looked angry, but not at Mike or even the prospect of their mother grounding him. His eyes were red, only if Mike caught them in the right light. He’d been crying– but no, Richie never cried. Not like this.

“Well?” Mike continued, unsure what to say. It was obvious to them both what he’d been doing. “What are you doing, Dick?”

“I always thought I was addicted to this shit.” Richie sighed, clenching his jaw. He was speaking against his will, but for some reason all lies felt useless between them. “Turns out… I just miss Eddie.”

“Oh.” Mike eased himself down into the grass beside his brother. A quick glance to the envelope showed the return address to be the Kaspbrak household, all the way back in Maine.

There had been a few stories from Richie’s years with their aunt, Eddie’s name– Eds– peppered in sparingly and safely. Mike hadn’t thought to truly consider what it meant at the time, but it was becoming startlingly familiar. Using Will’s name in a story– one that would come bounding from his lips the moment it happened– was a game, strategically placing his name after two others or at the end, as if he wasn’t the first thought. No one was paying any attention, but Mike was. He had something to hide. And apparently so did Richie.

“I know. Stupid, right? So fucking corny.” He didn’t acknowledge the secret, only his embarrassing way to cope with the distance.

“That’s not stupid. No, that’s… that’s…”

“Really fucking sappy. I know.” Richie took a long inhale but kept the cigarette by his side. “We used to hang over this one bridge in town and share them. I used to think it was the nicotine that had me but, turns out…” He waved his hand out: it was Eddie.

“And we moved you away.” Mike sighed, feeling gutted. Sure, Will had moved away and left Mike feeling all sorts of ungrounded and anxious, but Mike was still in his home, reaching for Will. The Wheelers had taken Richie themselves and pulled him from Eddie; he was the one that was taken away, that had to deliver the news he’d be putting distance between them.

“He knows, so it’s not too bad.” Richie muttered. Oh, that was something Richie had over Mike; he’d never learned to speak any of his feelings aloud. “That’s what the letters are; something more permanent than a phone call.”

Richie’s voice was wobbling and his bottom lip quivered; Mike couldn’t stand to watch his brother break down and quickly scrambled for a joke– any joke.

“Does he write you love poems and shit?” He nudged Richie’s arm. He nearly tipped over.

“No.” Richie sniffled. He finally put the cigarette out on a out-of-place stone by his feet. “I write him about my day– things that I’m not going to tell him on the phone with fucking Ted around thinking scanning my calls is part of good parenting–”

“Understood.” Mike grumbled.

“and he just sends back his day. Signs it the same way: he won’t forget me.” He laughed wetly, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. “My spaghetti won’t ‘forgetti’.”

Richie chuckled again to himself, but Mike was left still and silent. That was kind of the saddest thing he’d ever heard.

“Richie–”

“I know it’s stupid and I love our friends here at home but, I love my friends up there and I want to go back and see them but Auntie fucking hates me because I’m such a fucking handful and I can’t stay with Eddie and his mom– no fucking way– and I can’t stay with Bev because that’s a shit idea and Stan does not deserve to have me constantly under his roof and I sure as fuck can’t ask Mom or Dad to have Eddie stay over. That’s a surefire way to get both my prescription and teeth knocked out.”

“I- uh–” Mike wasn’t sure what to say. Richie was right.

“And if I have to wait until I have somewhere else to stay to see them, it might be a year before I see Eddie again. A year. That’s so long. That’s impossible to ask of him. Or anyone. And he’s just gonna… He’ll forget me. Act like I never existed– and I mean, he should! I’m a terrible, terrible friend.”

“That’s not true.” Mike grabbed his brother’s hand. The touch spoiled the rest of his sentences; this was so unlike them. “D-Do you worry about that a lot?”

“Oh come on, are you telling me you don’t feel that same way about Will?” Richie sniffled sharply, taking a long inhale.

Mike felt as if he had taken a drag of Richie’s cigarette. “Uh, that’s completely different.” He choked out.

Richie blinked at Mike for a long time– way too long, if Mike was being honest– with a look of slight disgust on his face. “You can’t be serious.”

“It’s not like you a-and Eddie!”

“I open up to you– even the tiniest bit– and you’re gonna just lie to my face like this.”

Richie was teasing, of course he was, but he had a valid point. He was back on the brink of tears after having already cried, all because he missed his boyfriend– was that the word they used, Mike wondered. He’d never thought Richie as being any sort of “boyfriend”; it was too formal, too dutiful– and he was going to lie to his brother; Mike’s first best friend that had been sent away for four years after intermediate summers in Maine that never truly spoke a word about his “forced vacation” was sharing about his first love, and Mike was shutting him out. He was making Richie feel more alone than he had to.

Mike groaned and rubbed his face. “I’m not just lying to you.”

“Oh. Oh no. You didn’t tell him before he moved? Mike, are you shitting me?”

“Hey! Shut up! I’m not the one crying over handwritten letters here!” Mike said. It wasn’t entirely accusatory and Richie knew it. His eyebrows lifted and his jaw set in expectation: go on. “A binder– I keep all his drawings in a binder. In the basement. He still sends me some– ones he draws when he’s bored in class or just ones he does for fun. I save every single one. Every. Single. One.”

There wasn’t much Richie could say, Mike knew that, but he was just super appreciative he stayed silent rather than laughing. He nodded and collected a response. “I know I’m more like Ted than I am like Mom…”

“You’re not–”

“Dad was born afraid of emotions and has passed that onto me, I know this and I’m not going to lie to myself.” Richie said sternly. “But, my point is: if I think you should tell him? Maybe you really should fucking tell him. Like yesterday.”

“Why would I do that? He’s hours away now and–”

“And he’s sending you drawings, Mike.” Richie looked upset again. His hands curling around the letter. “That sounds a whole lot like ‘I won’t forget you’ to me. Kinda gross, actually… He’s in love with you.”

Hearing it first from Richie sent Mike almost into another plane of existence. Mike reached for the cigarette and felt around in the grass for the lighter. “He is not.” He coughed, no smoke even in his lungs.

“Okay.” Richie nodded, laughing. “I’m sure he’s just, carefully creating art for every boy he knows.”

Mike spoke without thinking. “I sure fucking hope not.”

Slowly, Richie pulled his hand from his pocket and held out his lighter. He clinked his tongue and sparked it. “Oh, you’re in far worse than I thought.”

“Am not!”

“Well, when you stop pining over some crayola art, you let me know, Mike n Ike.” Richie laughed. “Denial’s only fun for so long.”

It wasn’t denial, was it? Mike knew he liked Will but he was just so fucking sure that Will didn’t– and couldn’t– like him back. It wasn’t denial if it was the truth, right? Then again, when had Mike heard those words from Will? He was hurting from being so far from Will, but he had yet to be hurt from being rejected. God, Mike was sure being rejected would hurt a hell of a lot less.

Maybe he should test that theory. Finally, maybe Richie had given good advice. Just this once.

“If I tell him, it’s you who’s driving me to Chicago to see him.” Mike threatened, pointing the cigarette at him. “I can’t just do it in a letter or-or a phone call. That’ll kill him.”

“You chip in and help me rent a place in Maine for a week this summer and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

“Deal. Fine. Whatever you want, it’s yours.” Mike nodded, ditching the cigarette.

Richie closed the lighter and smiled at Mike, free of mischief. “Thanks, Mike… Don’t tell Mom about the smoking. Any parts of it. Please.”

“They’re hers anyway.” Mike said winking. “She really needs to quit, honestly.”

“We’re just helping!” Richie slung his arm around Mike and brought him toppling into him. “We’re the best children she could ask for–”

“– Do I smell cigarettes?”

“Fuck! Run!” Richie giggled, scrambling up his papers and getting to his feet. Mike threw the lighter and pack into the bush behind the patio and took off after his brother.

The backdoor opened just as Richie jumped the fence, Mike struggling to do the same. “You boys better get back here!” Karen shouted.

“Sorry, Mom!” Richie called back, waving. “We’re running to Chicago!”

“And then Maine!” Mike wheezed. “Be back later!”

ao3

[miguel-manbemel]

Aspects & Fanfics Ep. 40: Cream of Broccoli Gone Horribly Wrong

Here comes a new entry of the main storyline of this fanfic blog inspired on Sanders Sides by Thomas Sanders, Joan S. and the Foster Dawg Team. I really thought I wasn’t going to make it this time, because I spent a lot of time working on the “Catching the Reference” video, so much so that I didn’t have any time to write. This episode has been written literally in the last five days. When I started, getting it finished for Sunday was only a hope. Thank goodness that the hope became a reality. And speaking about it, hope and the lack of it and it’s effect on Roman, who is Thomas’ hopes and dreams, will be one of the central topics of this episode. I leave you with it now, hope you enjoy it and until next time.

SYNOPSIS: After discovering that Thomas’ lack of hope is affecting Roman and making him sick, Virgil tries to take care of him and of their injured son Chris at the same time. Both of them try to convince him to ask for help, but Virgil stubbornly tries to do this on his own. But it’s been a week, Virgil’s strength starts failing him and he doesn’t know if he can cope anymore with taking care both of them at the same time. And, exahusted and overwhelmed as he is, when he tries to make Patton’s cream of broccoli to comfort Roman, disaster ensues...

WARNINGS: Romantic prinxiety and logicality. Mentions to illness and death. Angst.

EPISODE INDEX

[Virgil is watching TV, a show about conspiracies he’s enjoying very much. A voice is heard in the distance]

ROMAN: Sweetheart? Are you there?

VIRGIL: [sighs] I thought he’d sleep a little longer… [yelling] Yes, honey, I’m here! Do you want something?

ROMAN: I’d want a little glass of freshly squeezed orange juice, if it doesn’t bother you too much, my love! My lips are completely dry and I need something fresh to drink!

CHRIS: [also voice in the distance] Could you make another one for me, dad, please?

VIRGIL: [yelling] I’m right on it!

CHRIS: Thanks, dad!

ROMAN: Thank you, Virge, I love you!

VIRGIL: [yelling] I love you back! [sighs] Just when it was getting interesting… [turning the TV off and standing up] Okay… back to work again. Come on, Virge. You endured the Dark Master’s working conditions, you can surely survive this! Two glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice. And, as Janus would say, I’m totally not tempted to squeeze my hands in the squeezer so I can join these two in bed. Not at all…

[intro sequence]

[Virgil enters Chris’ bedroom]

VIRGIL: [giving him a glass] Here’s your orange juice, Chris.

CHRIS: Thank you, dad.

VIRGIL: You’re welcome. How are you doing now?

CHRIS: My leg itches a little less today. But the question is… how are you doing today, dad? I’m worried that taking care of us both at the same time can be too much for you.

[Virgil smirks with gratitude]

VIRGIL: Thanks for thinking on me, son. But don’t worry. I can cope.

CHRIS: Are you sure? Remember that grandpa offered to temporarily move in with us to assist you.

VIRGIL: Yes, I know, dad has always been that great with us, but I can do this, and I don’t want to disturb him when he’s just starting his new life with Logan.

CHRIS: It’s just that it worries me to be a burden to you, dad. If only I could get rid of this plaster. It was really bad timing that father got so sick right when I’m in this condition. At least I could have helped you take care of him, and now you’re doing this on your own. Look at you. You look so tired, and it’s only been a week.

VIRGIL: [smiling, trying to conceal his fatigue] Don’t worry about me, son. It is I who must take care of you and not the opposite. But I really thank you for your concern. [kisses him on the forehead] I love you. Now drink that juice before it gets warm. It would be a shame that the ice cubes I put on it got melted. And I still have to bring the other glass to your father.

CHRIS: Okay… [drinks the juice, then gives the empty glass black to Virgil] It was delicious. Thank you for your hard work, dad.

VIRGIL: You’re welcome. Don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything, whatever that is.

CHRIS: Okay, I will. See ya later.

[Virgil leaves Chris’ bedroom and enters his own bedroom, whose bed Roman lies in]

ROMAN: Hi, Virge…

VIRGIL: Hi, Roman, how are you feeling now? Any fever?

ROMAN: I don’t know exactly, I didn’t check my temperature lately. The shivering and the cold feeling are already indicators, though.

VIRGIL: Let me see…

[Virgil puts his hand on Roman’s forehead]

VIRGIL: You’re burning hot. And I don’t mean your presence, which unfortunately, and I’m sorry, is anything but hot right now, sorry sweetheart.

ROMAN: [titters] Yeah, I can imagine… But the truth is I couldn’t care less right now about my appearance.

VIRGIL: Now I know you really have a fever. I was joking, though. Even when you look as bad as you do right now, I still can see that something in you that not even illness can take away.

ROMAN: So you’re basically saying that I look like a haunting ghost and as you love ghosts you enjoy my nasty look… I’ll take that as a compliment.

VIRGIL: It was a compliment and a truth. [takes a bottle of green pills from his pocket, the label, which has Thomas’ face smiling and looking at he sky with a dreamy face, reads “Thomas’ Hope”] Okay, it’s time for your medicine. Take one pill with the orange juice. That will make you feel better, at least for the time being.

[Virgil takes one pill from the bottle and gives it to Roman along with the orange juice]

ROMAN: Thanks. I owe Thomas and his friends so much for their efforts in trying to improve his mood. If it wasn’t for these little pills of hope Thomas generates for us, I don’t know if I would have coped at all… They’re the only thing that keeps me alive, literally. I hope, pun not intended, that they never run out.

VIRGIL: Me too, but remember what Logan said. You must take them fresh, because hope is strong and almost unbreakable when it’s the basis of a human mind, but it’s very fragile and gets spoiled easily when served in these small doses. So take it before it expires.

ROMAN: Okay. Can’t I have a double dose? The effect is so good, but lasts for so little…

VIRGIL: I’m not sure if it’s safe. I’d rather not take the risk until we ask Logan about it. It could be harmful for you.

ROMAN: [sighs] Okay, you’re right. Itadakimasu! [puts the pill in his mouth]

VIRGIL: What was that?

ROMAN: [still with the pill in his mouth] It was Japanese. Don’t you watch subtitled anime? They always say that before eating, as an expression of gratitude for the food they’re gonna eat.

VIRGIL: Oh, I see… You’re welcome, I guess.

[Roman swallows the pill with some of the juice]

ROMAN: Ah… this is so good. No one makes orange juice better than you, Virge.

VIRGIL: Heh… It was nothing special. If the oranges are good, the juice will be good, that’s all.

ROMAN: [grabbing Virgil’s hand] Don’t take merit from yourself, my Emo Dream-of-my-Lifetime, especially when I’m complimenting you.

VIRGIL: [smiles] Okay, I accept your compliment.

[Roman kisses Virgil’s hand, then they both look at each other for a couple of seconds with the most loving glance. It’s Virgil who gets out of this mesmerizing moment first]

VIRGIL: Okay… Now, I gotta go clean the squeezer, then I’ll make dinner. Do you want anything special for dinner tonight?

ROMAN: You told me Patton had given you his secret recipe for the cream of broccoli, right? That warm soup brought me back from the dead when I was feeling bruised. Maybe it could have the same effect with this fever. Could you make some? [puppy face and voice] Please? [suddenly serious] If it’s not too much work for you, of course.

VIRGIL: [shrugs] It’s okay by me. I have never made it before, but I’m willing to learn and if I follow the recipe, it shouldn’t be too hard. [yelling] What do you think, Chris!? Cream of broccoli for dinner!? With my dad’s recipe!?

CHRIS: [from a distance] Yay, I love Patton’s cream of broccoli! And broccoli is a good source of nutrients to help me effectively restore my bones too!

VIRGIL: Where did you learn that?

CHRIS: Uh… internet!? Oh, and grandpa Logan told me the last time they visited!

VIRGIL: [smirks] I thought so, you could only learn that kind of technical words from him… Okay, it’s settled, then. Cream of broccoli for dinner. I’ll start making it as soon as I clean the kitchen. Are you done with your glass, Roman?

ROMAN: [swallowing the last of the juice] Yes, I’m done. Thanks, Virge. I love you.

VIRGIL: I love you back, and you’re welcome. [grabs the empty glass] Now, try to rest a little bit while I’m making dinner, okay? Let the pill of hope make effect.

ROMAN: Okay. I really think I could sleep a little more.

VIRGIL: Dream a little dream of me.

ROMAN: All I do is dream of you my whole life through. [laying down in bed] See ya later.

[Virgil goes downstairs to the kitchen. He washes the two glasses, then cleans the squeezer, getting it ready for another use]

VIRGIL: Okay… now, to make dinner. I hope I have inherited some of my dad’s abilities to make that cream of broccoli.

[Virgil picks up his phone and starts reading the recipe Patton texted him]

VIRGIL: Okay, I need broccoli… Of course, Captain Obvious… I also need butter, an onion, a clove of garlic, three spoonfuls of flour, two cups of chicken stew, a quarter of liter of milk cream, two carrots… Carrots? Oh, well, Roman likes carrots. And Chris… He doesn’t need to know. And I also need salt, black pepper and cheddar cheese. Okay, time to summon it all. Here we go.

[Virgil summons all the ingredients, which appear on the counter]

VIRGIL: I wish I could summon the cream of broccoli itself already made… but I need to make it myself a couple of times before I’m certain I’m summoning it right. I wouldn’t want to serve my husband and son a bowl of swamp mud. Okay, let’s get cooking.

[Virgil starts following the instructions of the recipe. It’s not long before he starts getting anxious about the many steps the recipe has, some of them done at the same time. Soon, an awful smell starts filling the whole room]

VIRGIL: Holly sh… [bleep] ! The broccoli is burning! Oh, f… [bleep], the pan is on fire!

ROMAN: [distant voice] Virge? It’s something burning?

VIRGIL: It’s… it’s okay, Roman! I have it all under control!

[Virgil puts the pan on fire in the sink]

ROMAN: Remember, Virge, that you mustn’t try to extinguish grease fire with…

[Virgil turns on the water and a huge flame erupts from the pan, Virgil yells scared]

ROMAN: …water.

VIRGIL: [yelling almost hysterical] Okay, okay! Don’t worry, I… I knew that!

[Virgil looks for the fire extinguisher everywhere, on the verge of a panic attack. He finally finds it and extinguishes the flames that had already started burning the cabinets above the sink]

VIRGIL: Gosh… that was close… but I must endure. I need to make that cream of broccoli. And I’ll finish it even if I have to throw myself to the floor to grow the vegetables myself!

[Virgil approaches the counter, but he slips on a bunch of butter that had fallen on the floor in the confusion, and he loudly falls. He tries to hang on the edge on the counter, but he only manages to throw down everything that was there over him with a huge chaotic noise]

ROMAN: What was that? Is everything okay, Virge?

VIRGIL: [mumbling with a face of pain, covered with all the ingredients that fell on him] Aw… my arm… Talk about throwing myself to the floor… aw…

[soon footsteps are heard on the stairs and Roman appears wearing a dressing gown, white with a red belt and his logo on the left side of his chest. He’s also wearing golden slippers, and he’s carrying a walking stick, made of gold with the handle full of embedded rubies and amethysts. Roman looks horrified at the chaos in the kitchen, especially when he sees Virgil lying on the ground. Roman walks towards him, unable to run, but walking as fast as he can, leaning on his cane]

ROMAN: Virgil! Sweet Bette Midler, are you okay?

VIRGIL: [getting up with difficulty] Roman, you shouldn’t be up. Get back to bed, I can handle this.

ROMAN: Don’t worry, the pill has started making effect and I’m not feeling fever at this moment. And you obviously can’t handle this, anyone could see it. I’m so sorry I’ve made you go through this, my love. But not anymore, I swear.

VIRGIL: It’s not your fault. You didn’t choose to get sick, and it’s my duty to take care of you.

ROMAN: For starters, it never was a duty as in an obligation, and even if it was or rather you saw it as such because of your vows, you never vowed to do it all alone on your own. Logan once taught me that one mustn’t do things alone if they can gather a group of friends to help them. Now I understand what he meant and I agree. Virgil, I want you to call the others for help.

VIRGIL: So you think I’m not good enough to take care of you on my own, right? You think I’m not capable to do this?

ROMAN: You are capable enough, but capacity wears out with time for anyone, and there’s no need for you to do all of this all alone. Please, Virge, you need to rest as much as we do at this moment. Don’t you see we’re worrying about you and we’d feel better if we knew that you had some assistance? At least, let Patton come here to help you. He already offered to do so.

VIRGIL: But I don’t want to bother him…

ROMAN: [serious, firm voice] Either we call him or I call my brother Remus. You choose, but you’re no longer doing this alone.

VIRGIL: …or maybe it would be fine to call my dad…

ROMAN: That’s more like it. I knew I could convince you somehow.

VIRGIL: You say convincing, I say coercing. You know the mess that would happen if we bring Remus here to take care of this.

ROMAN: Whatever works… Will you call Patton or shall I?

VIRGIL: No, I’ll call him myself. And you’re going back to bed right now, mister.

ROMAN: I tell you I’m feeling fine at this moment. Call him. I’m not going back to bed until I see him here.

VIRGIL: [sighs] Okay… Dad! Dad are you there? Could you come here, please!

[Patton rises up]

PATTON: Hi, son. How are you do… [notices the mess in the kitchen] …ing now…? Okay I can see the answer with my own eyes… What’s happened here?

VIRGIL: Let’s just say that the cream of broccoli didn’t agree with me… while I was making it, that is.

PATTON: Okay, do not fear anymore. Your happy papi Patton is here.

VIRGIL: I hate so much bothering you… but Roman is right, I have reached my limit and I really need help.

PATTON: Hey, don’t worry, Virge. You are my son. You do this because you’re motivated by taking care of your son and husband, right? Do you think my motivation of taking care of you and your family, which is my family too, is any less strong? I’ll always be here for you, don’t you ever hesitate again to call me if you need me.

VIRGIL: Thank you, dad. Thank you so much.

PATTON: Okay, then first, Roman, go back to bed, you shouldn’t be up. Second, you, Virgil go have a shower and change your dirty clothes. And, even if you’re Vigilance and Anxiety, try to relax. Third, I’ll clean this mess before you have time to say “cookies”. And four, time to make some good warm cream of broccoli for my folks. [clapping hands] Okay, move on, now!

ROMAN: Wow, Patton, you really have your condition of dad in your DNA. You’ve organized all of our tasks in less than ten seconds…

PATTON: I said, back to bed, Princey, or do you want me to grab you there in my arms?

ROMAN: Okay, okay, I’m going, you don’t need to do that. [going upstairs] See ya later.

[Virgil also goes upstairs to the bathroom next to his bedroom. While getting a shower, he shows a face of concern while his thoughts are heard in an off-voice]

VIRGIL: [train of thought] Patton is saving the day this time… but I can’t rely on him for everything. I need to be self-sufficient. If I’m not capable of taking care of my own family… what kind of father and husband am I going to be? And Roman needs me… He doesn’t say it, because he pretends to be strong, like I do… but I know him very well. Behind that smile of assurance and that theatrical voice of bravery he displays… I can sense the fear in his eyes. He knows his life is on the stake and he doesn’t wanna die. I’m afraid to speak openly to him about that because I don’t wanna hurt or stress him… but I know he’s so scared. I wish he would open up to me, but opening up about his feelings has never been his strong suit… But is it him who needs to talk or is it really me? Is he the one who’s afraid to die… or is it me the one who’s afraid to lose him? Perhaps it is me who wants to talk to him about it… but I shouldn’t… Goodness, if I lose him… it will be like falling back into the Dark Realm again. He was the torch that guided me to the Light Side in the first place. It was literally his kiss what transformed me into a Light Side… and… I don’t know what I would do without him… [black tears fall down his cheeks, he cleans them and notices his stained hand] Oh, sh… I forgot to take my eyeshadow off before taking the shower. Oh, never mind, I’ll clean it later.

[Virgil gets out of the shower and wears a purple bathing robe. Right at that moment, Roman enters the bathroom. Virgil turns around quickly, trying to avoid Roman seeing his ruined eyeshadow]

ROMAN: Oh, sorry, I needed to go to the bathroom to pick up something and… Wait a minute. Have you been crying, Virge? Your eyeshadow is all over your cheeks

VIRGIL: What? Don’t be silly, it’s just that I forgot to take the eyeshadow off and the shower ruined it, that’s all. I…

ROMAN: You can’t fool me, Virge. I know you, and I can tell when you’ve been crying. What’s wrong, my love? You know you can tell me anything.

[Virgil turns around and looks at Roman. He’s crying again]

VIRGIL: I’m afraid.

ROMAN: Afraid?

VIRGIL: I don’t wanna lose you and I’m afraid that you could…

[Virgil gets choked up and covers his mouth and nose, desperately trying to fight the outburst of crying he can no longer hold back. Roman’s eyes get filled with tears again and he looks at Virgil with a glance overflowing with love]

ROMAN: Gosh… What have I done in life to deserve so much love from you? [opening his arms] Come here.

[Roman hugs Virgil tight until he calms down, then gives him a long kiss. Then he stares at him for a couple of seconds, still hugging him]

ROMAN: I’m scared too, I’m not gonna lie. Who wouldn’t be when his life is on risk? But I’m not gone yet, and while I’m here, I’m gonna keep fighting for my life, to keep on living, to keep on sharing my life with you and Chris, and the rest of our friends. You are the reason why I haven’t given up yet. So don’t give up either. I’m still standing and this illness won’t take me so easily. Heck, it won’t take me, at all. You’ll see. Okay?

VIRGIL: Okay…

[Roman kisses Virgil again, then Patton’s voice is heard from the bedroom on the other side of the door]

PATTON: Soup’s ready! Where are you, guys?

ROMAN: [still kissing Virgil, he groans] Mmm… I’m regretting Patton being here right at this moment…

VIRGIL: [kissing Roman’s cheek with a mocking smirk] It was your idea, Roman…

ROMAN: Yeah, I know… [gives Virgil a quick kiss, then releases him] Okay, let’s go. Now I’m feeling stronger than ever thanks to the pill… and this pill of love we’ve just shared. But I’m really in the mood for some warm soup. Aren’t you?

VIRGIL: Yeah, me too. But you go first, I’ll fix my makeup, then I’ll help Chris get to the stairs. It’s a good thing we can summon the chair lift at will to help Chris go up and down the stairs while his leg is still in the plaster.

ROMAN: Yeah, it is. Okay, I’ll be waiting downstairs for you two to arrive. I love you, my Hooded Dark Prince.

VIRGIL: I love you too, my Sir Sing-Along.

ROMAN: [opening the door] I’m here, Patton.

PATTON: Oh, there you are. [noticing Virgil in the bathroom before Roman closes the door behind him] I hope I’m not interrupting something.

ROMAN: No, we were just having a husband-to-husband talk we both needed to have, but we were done. I can’t wait for that broccoli, I’m hungry! My kingdom for a bowl of cream of broccoli!

PATTON: It’s a good sign that you feel hungry, kiddo. Let’s go.

[meanwhile, in the bathroom, Virgil cleans his face, then applies new makeup. Looking at himself in the mirror, he smirks]

VIRGIL: Things are coming rough right now… but as long as we’re together, we’ll get through it, I know.

PATTON: Virgil, your soup will get cold! I already helped Chris down the stairs, so hurry up, we’re all waiting down here, all the four of us!

VIRGIL: [changing to his usual outfit, then opening the door] Yes, I’m ready, dad! Don’t eat all the cream of broccoli without me! Wait… did he say the four of us?

[ending card]

[Roman, Virgil, Patton, Chris and Logan, who’s joined them, are eating the cream of broccoli on the living room’s table]

LOGAN: I give you my thanks for inviting me to dinner tonight with all of you. This cream of broccoli is more than adequate, Patton.

PATTON: Thanks, Lo. It’s the least I could do, inviting you for dinner, when I’m gonna have to spend a few nights here to help them.

VIRGIL: What? No, dad, that won’t be necessary. You can perfectly go home tonight with Logan, we can survive the night on our own, cause the only thing we’ll be doing is sleeping. And if anything goes wrong in the night, the only one who could get up anyway is me. You know you all fall asleep while Thomas is sleeping.

PATTON: Yeah, I know I’d spend the night sleeping in spite of myself… but I’d probably have nightmares all night out of the concern. If I was here, I’d feel more relaxed and my dreams would be more pleasant. Please, I can sleep on the couch if you want me to.

VIRGIL: No, dad. Should you come over here for the night, I would never allow you to sleep on the couch. We have a guest bedroom you can use… [sighs] Okay, if you think being away could cause you harm in your sleep… I accept. Both of you can sleep over here if you want, Logan.

LOGAN: Oh, I wouldn’t want to be a…

VIRGIL: It’s okay, there’s room in the bed for both of you, and I would be less worried knowing that I’m not separating you now that you’re just married. What do you think, Roman?

ROMAN: Oh, I don’t mind at all.

LOGAN: All right, if you don’t have any issues with it, I accept. The only thing that worries me is breakfast, I…

ROMAN: It’s okay, Logan, we also eat a lot of Crofter’s in this house in the mornings.

LOGAN: [speaking quickly and excited] I’m in!

PATTON: Then, it’s settled. We’ll be here as the lovely family I’ve always envisioned in my dreams!

LOGAN: But only for dinner and breakfast, though, at least me. I’m currently working on something that needs all my attention in my own room during the day.

VIRGIL: Oh, okay, if that’s what you need. Can I ask what are you working on?

PATTON: Yes, my love, I would also like to know, you never told me anything.

LOGAN: It’s a plan of action to try and make Thomas’ mood improve. It is my duty to create all the logical mechanisms that help Thomas enjoy life and understand why life is still enjoyable, so I have to do that. My goal is that, when I have settled that foundation, Thomas will be able to restore his levels of hope to a healthy level again.

ROMAN: Oh, that would be so great. If it would work, you would be saving my life, literally. Thank you, Logan.

LOGAN: Don’t mention. That’s my job, after all. How are Thomas’ pills of hope working, by the way? Are they doing the trick?

ROMAN: Yes, they’re working perfectly fine. I had the last one a couple of hours ago and when I take one, all the symptoms almost disappear, even the fever goes away. That’s why I’m feeling so fine right now. It’s a shame that the effect only lasts for around four hours per pill and that I can only get three pills each day so I have to spend a great deal of the day feeling the symptoms in all their crudeness, and in those moments I feel like trash, but when they’re working like now, it’s an absolute relief. Say, isn’t there any possibility that I could get a double dose to make the effect last longer?

LOGAN: [suddenly yelling, with a face of fear and tension] No! Don’t do that! [there’s a silence at the table, everyone looks at Logan in silence. Logan clears his throat] I’m sorry… I wish you could take more pills or that the effect was longer, but as I told you, hope is fragile when served in these small doses, and if you got more than the established dose, which is one pill each eight hours, the pills you’d take in excess would get corrupted inside of you, as if it was an overdose. And then, they wouldn’t be hope anymore, they would be delusion, irrationality, even dementia, and that would have dangerous consequences, for you and for Thomas, that we must avoid at all cost. Remember, Roman. Even if you’re tempted to do so when you’re feeling the worst, even if you feel like you’re gonna die if you don’t, don’t take more than the right dose each day, do you understand?

ROMAN: Okay. I understand.

LOGAN: And I’m warning you about this because… I’m sorry but, seeing the evolution of your illness…

ROMAN: What?

LOGAN: You’re getting worse, Roman.

VIRGIL: What?

LOGAN: The pills will keep rescuing you and making you feel fine while they’re working, but when the effect wears off… you’re gonna be feeling worse than you’re already feeling now.

ROMAN: Oh, no… There has to be something you can do.

LOGAN: We’re working on it. But you must have faith in us and be strong when you feel the worst.

ROMAN: You’ve managed to scare me… Is it going to be so horrible?

LOGAN: Maybe even worse than anything you could imagine.

VIRGIL: [distressed] Logan, please, there’s no need to say things so crudely.

LOGAN: I’m sorry, but I can’t lie in a matter so serious, and Roman has the right to know… to be ready for that when it happens.

ROMAN: Logan is right, Virge, I have the right to know to prepare myself mentally. Don’t worry, I’m a prince. I’ll be strong, I promise.

VIRGIL: Roman… I know you’ll do your best. And we’ll do our best to take care of you too.

ROMAN: I count on that…

CHRIS: I wish I could take care of you too, father, but my leg…

ROMAN: I know, Chris, don’t worry about anything. Save your energies to heal that leg and get back in perfect shape. Remember we have lot’s of fencing lessons to share together in the future. And I don’t have any intention to miss them!

CHRIS: [smiling] Right!

PATTON: Okay, soup is over. Would you like a nice cup of hot chocolate for dessert? I can make churros to go with it.

VIRGIL: I’m not in the mood, dad, sorry…

PATTON: And that’s why I want you to help me make them. We need to distract ourselves and enjoy Roman’s good moments while they last. I won’t take no for an answer, kiddo.

VIRGIL: [sighs] Okay… let’s make some churros, then.

ROMAN: I think I’m gonna enjoy Patton’s stay in this room more than I anticipated. Churros for everyone! Yummy!

LOGAN: I would have preferred to dip them in Crofter’s, but hot chocolate is good too.

[Virgil goes with Patton to the kitchen and they start gathering the ingredients while Roman looks at them with a face of love and satisfaction, even though his eyes can’t conceal the fear. Virgil looks furtively at him and notices this fear but says nothing, and focuses on not messing up the recipe again]

[abendrotbrav]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 & 𝐍𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄;  𝘔𝘶𝘯 & 𝘔𝘶𝘴𝘦 - 𝘔𝘦𝘮𝘦.

    fill out & repost ♥ This meme definitely favors canons more, but I hope OC’s still can make it somehow work with their own lore, and lil’ fandom of friends mutuals. Multi-Muses pick the muse you are the most invested in atm. 

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐈𝐒:   canon /  OC  / au / canon-divergent / fandomless /

Is your character popular in the fandom?  YES / NO / IDK (she oc???)

Is your character considered hot™ in the fandom?  YES / NO / IDK (have you seen them thighs)

Is your character considered strong in the fandom?  YES / NO / IDK (weak noodle arms)

Are they underrated?  YES / NO / IDK

Were they relevant for the main story?  YES / NO / IDK

Were they relevant for the main character?  YES / NO / THEY’RE THE PROTAG.

Are they widely known in their world?  YES / NO / IDK

How’s their reputation?  GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL. / ? 

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖  ‘ 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 ’ ? —  Preeeeeeeeeeetty well???

𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄! 𝐀𝐤𝐚 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐬.  —   Slaps the roof of my blog- this lady got trauma that can’t just be erased! She got horrible coping mechanisms! She got climactic moments built into her personality! She has a complex character and way of viewing the world! She got (uni)verses and she got verses (poetry)! Get your Sophia now for the low low price of only your soul a month! Order noW!

𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐄, 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞, 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤?).  —   You have to dig into her to get to the juicy parts because she tries to portray herself as a simple somewhat ditzy girl, and that can get super annoying to have to constantly fight her to pull apart. Likewise, she’s going to be fake to your muse for a long ass time. Also, since she’s a people pleaser who likes being liked, there’s a lot of interactions where she will yes man to other muses which can stifle the variety of interactions you get out of her at first.

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐎 𝐑𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄? —  Spite and soda. Seriously though. A very much ex-friend wanted to rp with, in hindsight, a very specific type of muse to ship his own oc with. I said “okay i’ll make a [type of character stereotype in question] but i’m gonna do it realistically.” That was Sophia 1.0 Beta Edition. Spoilers: said ex-friend was absolutely not satisfied with not getting the ship he wanted IDSUHNFK...

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆?  —  Spite and soda. BUT NOT SERIOUSLY (somewhat seriously) I really like doing things that are fun to me?? I like making complex and like, real-feeling characters. If you could see my character in a real-life setting, in the sense of like, getting that somebody could turn out that way, I’ve half-won. I also really like making characters... not sympathetic but like, you get them. If I can make somebody be able to feel alongside my muses, even if they don’t support them or even like them, that’s my second half-won because that’s one of the coolest powers of writing, to me!

&

𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐍

   Give your mutuals some insight about the way you are in some matters, which could lead them to get more comfortable with you or perhaps not.

Do you think you give your character justice?  YES / NO / IDK / I HOPE

Do you frequently write headcanons?  YES  / NO.

Do you sometimes write drabbles?  YES / NO

Do you think a lot about your Muse during the day?  YES / NO

Are you confident in your portrayal?   YES  / NO / IS ANYONE, EVER?

Are you confident in your writing?  YES / NO / KINDA???

Are you a sensitive person?  YES / NO / KIND OF

𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐄𝐏𝐓 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐒𝐌 𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐋 —  I think so?? I think with OC’s it can get a bit awkward with criticism because there isn’t a canon to compare to, but I totally get where some can come from especially on how muns handle certain issues. But I’m totally open to criticism where it’s coming from a good place if that makes sense??

𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒, 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑? — Oh my gosh so much yes! I love fleshing out my characters!! I love when I get a question I’m not sure of the answer to cause it means I get to dig deep and really think about my character, and likewise, love ones I immediately go “oh i GOTCHU FAM” because then I get to share more about my character!!

𝐈𝐅 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐀 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒, 𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐖𝐇𝐘? —   I mean all of my headcanons are about my own oc so i’m not sure how that would work esdhnijkf BUT I DIGRESS!! Yeah honestly go for it!! As long as someone doesn’t try to change my approach cause they disagree with a hc then yeah! I’m open to discussion and I don’t mind disagreeing, but I’m pretty stubborn admittedly on some stuff due to past experience.

𝐈𝐅 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐋, 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐈𝐓 ? —  Go for it? As long as, again, they don’t try to pressure me into changing it. I’ve had bad experience in the past with people (in past forums, not on here, luckily!) getting their own portrayal and ideas about my muses (canon and oc) so strongly against mine that I would get like messages CONSTANTLY about it, it was miserable. So at this point- ya disagree, ya disagree. Just don’t try to shove your viewpoint down my throat to make me change my muse awbhejsdmf...

𝐈𝐅 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐈𝐓 ? —  Can I be honest and say, yeah it stilts my ooc interactions a bit? I mean, I play some pretty nasty folks at times, so I totally get it, but I get nervous interacting with people that would flat out just hate a muse because I get... worried about ic/ooc leak? See above for where that comes from adsnjkfcv... I love when ic other muses don’t like mine, even if my own muses don’t like it, because it’s variety! It rocks! But ooc I like to be passionate about my muses, so I don’t know how I’d interact with someone who hated them?? I won’t try to stop someone from hating my muse but I honestly don’t know how I’d interact beyond “yeah my muse can suck lmao.” I really respect people who rp villains and fandom hated characters or just right proper nasty pieces of works as a result?? I dunno how y’all do it but you’re amazing!!

𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐎𝐊𝐀𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑𝐒 ? — I mean as long as it’s not the only thing we’re talking about, yeah!!

𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐘 𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐌𝐔𝐍 ? —  i THINK SO?? I’m generally very shy and nervous but very full of passion so I think I can come off as maybe intimidating? And admittedly I’m bad at reaching out to people I haven’t already interacted with. But I really try my best to be friendly too so, there’s that!!

𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵, 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵!

tagged by: you know what you did tagging: you. yes, specifically you. i am a psychic. yes, that thing you did last Tuesday WAS kinda weird but i won’t judge. fill this out.

[mlmdarkfiction]

Oh, Where Have You Been, Billy Boy?

A multichapter fic of Billy Lenz X Transman!Reader

Story Description:

You've taken the newly vacant position as head nurse of The Ontario Criminal Institute, a hospital to take care of and study the criminally mentally ill. One of the patience under your care happens to be the infamous Billy Lenz, a man who was caught one year after highhandedly destroying an entire sorority brutally. All you want is to give Billy, and the other patients at the Institute, the help and care they seem to have been seriously lacking under the direction of the last head nurse.

Chapter 1 Description;

TWs: none for this chapter

You experience your first day of training at the Institute and have your first interaction with the infamous Billy Lenz. 

Taglist: @datenightfright

Read Below:

There’s lots of reasons to be excited for starting your new job. It pays better, it has better benefits, and most importantly is closer to your home. Really, there’s only one major downfall about your new job, the patients. You’re going from being an Extensive Care nurse to a nurse in a facility holding the criminally insane. Before you rarely had any conscious patients to deal with, but now you’d be thrusted into a world of not only awake, but highly dangerous patients.

The thing is, you feel a lot of sympathy for these individuals. After all, criminals or not, they’re sick. And sick people need care. That was the main thing that drove you to take the job, not the extra pay or the benefits, that’s all nice of course, but more than anything you wanted to help people.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

Sergei, your boyfriend of the last five years, hovers nervously behind you as you dress in your scrubs, ready for the first actual day on the job. He’s been against your decision to go work at the Ontario Criminal Institute since the very beginning, you’d thought he’d gotten more used to the idea, but obviously not.

“It will be fine, Serg.” While you appreciate his concern, he as always, comes off a bit too strong. You wish he would understand that you’re not only capable of taking care of yourself, but capable of making your own complex decisions as well. “Besides, today is just to get the feel of things. Mrs.Macaty will be there the whole time to show me the ropes.”

You’ve not yet met Mrs.Macaty in person. What you know of her mostly comes from the phone calls you had over the phone, and what the head of staff at the institute had told you during your initial job interview. Mrs.Macaty was the head nurse for the institute, and had worked there for many years before finally deciding a few months ago to put in her retirement. Before she left the Institute for good she promised to show you what will be expected of you.

“I love you,” You press your lips to Sergei’s stumbled cheek as you make your way to grab your car keys. “You really need to shave.” With that you’re out the door.

-

The drive to work is about as nice as you’d expected. Most of the trip was regular early morning commute and traffic, but about half way the scenery changes. You go up through the mountains for twenty minutes before you catch sight of the Institution.

It’s a huge intimidating building. But it doesn’t scare you nearly as bad as it had during the time of your first interview. Still, even as your observe the heavily secure building, you find yourself doubting if you can really ever get used to working in such a gloomy place. You catch the humor in it. No, you’re not afraid (at least not outside the healthy realm) of your new job, that’s easy to adjust to, no the thing you’re having trouble coping with is the gloomyness of the facility.

It’s laughable. You muse to yourself about all of this as you park in the visitors entrance, and walk your way to the first set of doors accompanied by a matching set of metal detectors.  Although it’s unlikely any of the patients actually have visitors coming to see them, it’s nice of the hospital to even allow visitation.

“There you are,” Speaks a little old woman, shrunken with age, her hair in a high bun, and what you can only manage to describe as a friendly scowl taking her face. “You’ve last the first test.” The guard to her right hands you back your car keys, but not before telling you to place them in your locker.

“Don’t worry, I’ll show the boy the ropes.”

“So you’re Mrs.Macaty I’m assuming?” On your face is your best professional smile as you extend your hand out to her, but it seems she has no desire to shake your hand in turn. In fact she stairs at it for several silent awkward moments until you allow your hand to fall back to your side. The awkward silence makes you uncomfortable but thankfully after only another moment of her scruntinizing stare she clears he throat and finally leads you away from the main visitors entrance.

“This here’s the locker room. You can dress here in the morning if you don’t wanna wear your scrubs to work. There’s also lockers. You’ll be gettin’ one of your own today, all personal items, and sharp things like your keys go in there.”

It’s a decently sized space, the lockers lining the walls in a way that reminds you more of a high school locker room than anything else. With what little you can make out of coats and uncomfortable looking shoes left behind, you would guess the majority of your new coworkers would appear to be women. There’s nothing wrong with that of course, in fact it’s quite common in the nursing field, you had just hoped given the circumstance there may be some more male nurses than you are used to. It’s always a bit isolated to be one of the very few male nurses in a hospital.

“Now, before we get started, do you have any questions?”

“Oh- Um,  no ma’am.”

“Good, come on then.”

Mrs.Macaty shows you the ropes. You watch as she gathers medication for the patience on her part of the ward, and follow behind her as she gives them to the patients.

“Use a tongue depressor to make sure they took them, and be carefully, some of the nasty fuckers spit.”

The way she treats patients makes you upset, but you do your best to cope with it, all smiles and nodding, just wanting to get through the day. You try to give her the benefit of the doubt. You try to imagine how taxing it must be for he to have done this everyday for so many years.

She leads you to a door and then stops. “This man, this man will be the bane of your very existence as you work here.”

“Isn’t that a bit of an…”

A bit of an exaggeration is what you were going to ask her, but you trailed off as you see the patient name displayed on the door.

Billy Lenz.

The first patient whose name you actually recognize. You knew about the case, at least a little bit, about the sorority girls he’d murdered a year before he was caught, about the phone calls he made to his victims, how he was eventually caught because of the calls.

You remembered that case. You remembered it because you were in college yourself at the time, far away from the sorority, but at the time it had reminded you of an incident from when you were in high school. At the time you had felt such sympathy for his victims, and a deep fear that you could have easily been a victim as well. It was an overreaction by far. The calls you’d gotten in your senior year of high school on the family phone were nothing like the nasty calls those poor girls had gotten, it was just repeated calls of nothing but deep uncomfortable breathing.

Mrs.Macatay knocks on the door first, opening the sliding compartment to speak.

“Are you decent Billy?”

There’s no response,

“He hardly talks,” She tells you beginning to unlock the door. “Well he talks, but he never says anything worth listening to.”

You nod, mouth feeling like it’s filled with cotton, still caught up in your fears of a possible high school stalker. When the door is open, when you see Billy, a pathetic looking man, thin, and glaring at both you and Mrs.Macatay from beneath the locks of matted hair that covered his face.

Pity. You feel pity for the man. It’s obvious from his appearance alone that he’s not been getting the basic care he deserves, the basic care the facility is supposed to guarantee it’s patients.

When Mrs.Macatay approaches, paper cup full of pills in hand, Billy reacts violently. He hisses at her, dropping from his bed, and backing up against the wall.

It’s obvious to see he doesn’t like her. He’s trembling, and it’s that feeling again, that pity that entices you to act.

“Mrs.Macatay, would you mind if I gave Billy his medicine?”

Both parties stop, their attention on you.

“I watched you give the other patients their meds, and this will be my job from here on out, right?”

She eyes Billy warily, but nods backing up as she makes her way toward you. That’s another thing about this job, to never turn your back to the patients, lest you open yourself up for a possible attack.

“Billy,” Mrs.Macatay speaks the way your teachers regarded problem students, aggressive and authoritative. “This is ____, he’s going to be your new nurse.”  

“Hi Billy, it’s nice to meet you.”

He’s curious as you approach, his head is tilted, and although he stays scurried towards the back of the room and continues to tremble he doesn’t hiss at you, or lash out.

“Can you take your meds for me Billy?” You offer the paper cup to him, shocked by how quickly he snatches it from you. Despite his speed it gave you time to see his hands, nails bitten into bloody quicks, scratches on his arms and wrist. He wasn’t being taken care of at all.

Anger rises quickly in your throat, and you force it down. It would be different, with you in charge, you’d make sure the patients were all taken care of properly. That they got the help and care they desperately needed.

Billy takes the pills dry, or at least seems to. You’re relieved he’s behaving, after the way Mrs.Macatay had acted.

“Can I check your mouth Billy, to make sure you’ve taken them all?”

He hesitates, but nods moving closer to you. You barely catch it, the tail end of a murmured whisper hushed out by the scuffling of his clothes.

“ -pretty little mouth- “

Billy opens his mouth and even lifts his tongue for you. There’s no need to use the tongue depressor much to your relief.  Any reason to not get close to a patient’s mouth is acceptable in your book. The last thing you needed on your first day of work is to come home with stitches and a bite mark. You’re sure Sergei would just be thrilled with you, and your new job if that happened.

“Thank you Billy.”

You back up slowly, making your way to join Mrs.Macatay by the door. “We’ll be back later today okay?”

“Was...Was Billy a good boy?”

He catches you off guard with the question. You almost stop in your tracks. He seems lucid enough, at least right now, and the meds will help keep him that way. It just surprises you to hear him speak in third person like that.

There’s a click of disapproval, or maybe disgust, from Mrs.Macatay behind you, and you fight the urge to frown at her behavior.

But you don’t. You don’t frown, you don’t stop moving. You show no reaction to the sudden questioning or to Mrs.Macatay’s unprofessoinal behavior. Your caretakers smile remains on your face as you respond.

“Yes Billy, you were a very good boy today. Thank you for being good for me and taking your medications.”

The door to Billy’s room closes, and you let out a long held breath. Professionalism drops, along with your forced caring smile. That was stressful.

Mrs.Macatay and yourself are only just beginning to walk a way, pushing the medicine cart along with you, when you hear Billy again.

“ Bye, bye, pretty nursie… ”

And looking back you see him. Billy is looking at you through the metal sliding compartment Mrs.Macatay had left open, one green eye visible to stare at your retreating forms.

[juupajaa]

🌋Acts for change:

I chose the erupting volcano for this bc honestly that’s pretty much exactly what this stage is all about. This is the most difficult stage in eds, but also the stage that has the most powerful emotions and biggest character growth. It’s do or die and it’s ugly as hell, but we’re so close to being in the clear, we can’t lie down yet!

Ok it’s time to start a war lads. Acts for change is the worst when you’re in it, but afterwards it will feel like the most badass thing you’ve ever done. 

You’re ready to fight back and it’s time to take all those emotions you’ve been shoving under your pillow ever since things first started to go bad and you gotta take them out, and pour some gasoline on them, because we need to burn through all of it before this shit can stop. Acts for change is all about doing things you hate, fear and loathe. You’re going to go through a lot of shame, guilt, sadness, fear, anger, confusion, disgust, discomfort, anxiety yada yada yada. Just every nasty feeling you can imagine, you probably will go through it during this stage.

Depending on how long you’ve been stuck with your ed or how thoroughly the disordered thought patterns have infiltrated every corner of your mind, this part might be relatively easy or near impossible. For some, this part doesn’t need much, just some positive encouragement and a good enough lure at the end. For example, once you’ve pushed yourself out of hope for change and into this stage, you might have been building up a lot of willpower, and your life isn’t at a crumbling point. Maybe you know that something good is going to happen and you are extra motivated to recover for the sake of it. 

For others, their life still isn’t looking great and they’ve just barely made it into the acts for change by fear or pressure alone. In such a case, the workload can become overwhelming, and especially since there isn’t “much to look forward to” recovery doesn’t seem very appealing all the time. Needless to say, it is important to establish some sort of a dream for yourself. Anything to look forward to and fight for.

No matter the situation, everyone goes through some horrible days or even weeks during this stage and in general, you might be extremely confused by your mind, since it can pretty much turn upside down in an instant. One moment you’re full of might and you’re eager to get better, the next you’re regretting every step you’ve taken away from your ed. You’re going to be very moody, scared and irritated and that’s normal and everyone has to understand that you’re not yourself right now. Your mind is splitting in two and you’re constantly working extremely hard to save your life. Here are some thoughts you might be going back and forth with:

This is too hard, I will never succeed at this VS I can do this, I’m already doing so much

I wish I could go back to my ed VS I don’t ever want to go back to my ed

I am going to regret this so much VS I will never look back once I get out of this mess

I must have been faking the whole thing VS I know for a fact that I wouldn’t be fighting this hard if I had faked it

There’s nothing wrong with me, I should stop wasting everyone’s time VS I’m still very much ill and I am where I should be

Sometimes you don’t win this war and you relapse. It happens, but it doesn’t have to mean you sink back into the bottom. You can always climb back up to where you were, and every time you come here, you are smarter and stronger. If you do get overwhelmed and resort to going back a few stages, you can climb back up the same way you did earlier. Never think that you can’t climb back up here if you fall down. 

This stage requires you to face your fears and it isn’t easy. You can’t get it right on the first try, you’re bound to fail here and there, everyone does, but you have to make sure you keep your eyes to the future, rather than the past. Here are some things you might want to try/focus on during this stage:

Proper nutrition: the easiest way to do this is to get on a meal plan. You can find normal meal plans online. What you want to aim for is regular meals with enough nutrition to keep you healthy. This stage requires a lot of mental willpower and strength from you and you simply can’t beat this without being properly fed. It is such a bitch, because your relationship with food won’t get fixed without you eating normally. It sucks, it’s the worst, but honestly, try to imagine food is your medicine. You can hate it as much as you do, but you have to take it in order to get better.

Keeping external stress at bay: You are already under a lot of stress. If it’s at all possible, put a halt to most of your life. Ideally you could literally not think about anything but getting better for a few months, but that isn’t possible for many, so doing what you can and getting the help you can is a must. If there’s responsibilities you don’t have the energy to do, see if you can’t get someone to help you with them for some time. Keep your screen time very controlled, don’t let yourself see or hear anything that might upset you or make you feel more negative emotions. Surround yourself with things you like and things that make you calm.

Establish a dream, goal, or a future you’re working towards: I already touched on this briefly, but basically, you’ll need all the motivation you can get and sometimes it isn’t even enough. One of your main ways to cope with recovery/losing your old coping mechanism, should be daydreaming. Daydream all day if you like, make up big plans, make up small plans, just get busy and start picturing a life you want for yourself and keep thinking about it and how much you want it.

Practice mindfulness and consciousness: Yuck, I hate this shit. I’m too much of a hardass to feel totally composed regarding these exercises, but sure enough I have to do them at therapy every week. It does help, not gonna lie, but I don’t like it one bit. Some do, some find these things calming and enjoyable, but I mostly just start nervously twitching and squirming whenever I have to stay still and think about a happy place or to consciously tell myself that “I love myself and I wish good health for myself”. These exercises have helped me to stop running down my old disordered thought patterns everytime something bad happens to me and they help me to deconstruct those disordered thought patterns, but oh my god I hate doing these exercises, I just can’t calm down and relax.

During this stage, you are working to deconstruct the thought patterns that your ed has created for you. It is slow work, it is hard work, and it will feel like you’re stuck and not progressing at all, but trust me, you are making progress. Everytime you don’t do something you ed tells you to do, you’re undermining the thought pattern. Everytime you think something your ed makes you think, but add your own new recovery-flavoured addition to it, you’re undermining the thought patterns. Even if you don’t believe a word you’re saying to your ed when you’re trying to convince the both of you that this is the right thing to do, you’re making progress. These things are like picking up blades of grass with tweezers from a golf field. One at the time, slowly but surely.

This stage can last for months, you might slip backwards a few times, but rest assured, your progress won’t be undone. Just climb back up the next day, try again, and again, and again. Little by little you’re getting better and closer to the last stage of your ed (SPOILERS: it’s pretty good).

Let’s talk about treatment options, yeah? During the acts for change, you are extremely vulnerable to falling back into your disorder, for the negative emotions and discomfort are bound to be high and you are so used to using your disordered behaviour to compensate those emotions. 

This is why inpatient/residential is the most effective treatment option, because it relieves you of a lot of responsibility over yourself, while also removing you from you daily life and the stress. You are in a safe place where you can be as weak and miserable as you truly are, and someone is always there to help you through the hard moments and making sure you stick to your recovery. Inpatient isn’t the only way though and often not necessary. The only time inpatient is absolutely necessary is if your physical health is deteriorating and you need medical care. Being severy under or overweight, malnourished, or suffering from health complications might make inpatient needed, but in general, inpatient treatment is not necessary, unless you want it or can’t recover any other way. I went inpatient for my fourth episode with me ed. I was underweight and badly malnourished, but there was no medical emergency, so inpatient wasn’t exactly necessary, but I had the option to go and I took it.

Outpatient treatment, such as talk therapy sessions can be just as effective as inpatient, although it requires a lot more strength and willpower from you yourself. Outpatient treatment can be for example talk therapy, group therapy, regular check-ups with a doctor or a nurse, physiotherapy or seeing a nutritionist. The most effective way to make outpatient work is to make an outpatient team that communicates with one and other, and together you decide how to proceed each week.

Recovering without professional care is possible, but it is definitely the most difficult way to go about it and it can leave you unprepared for possible relapses. I’ve recovered on my own three times and each time it required me to sacrifice something in order for it to work. Usually I had to quit school or move back to my mother’s, so I could focus on what was important. I ate my mother’s food and didn’t do anything else until my disordered thought patterns had faded into oblivion. The support of family and friends is very important in every option, but especially if you don’t get professional care. 

I live in Finland and we have a really good healthcare system that didn’t absolutely bankrupt me and my family when I got help for my ed, but I know that’s not the case everywhere. However, even if you assume that you can’t afford care or don’t have options, I recommend confirming it from someone who knows these things. There are lots of ed centres online that you can contact and ask for advice if you don’t know what your options are. These places usually have some sort of crisis chat or number where you can talk to professionals, usually free of charge, if you feel like you’re about to lose your shit. Taking any help you can is key in recovery and trust me, you need it and you are absolutely worthy of it. These people get paid to do this, you’re not bothering them and they’re doing their job.

Acts for change lasts as long as it needs to and the shift to the next stage is gradual. It is the worst bullshit you’ll ever go through, but hey, you’re so close to being in the clear, you just gotta get through this one last stage and then it’s all going to fall into place and you’re gonna finally get to relax.

[omeliastories]

Battlefield

CHAPTER THREE

One Week Later

“Hey, can we–”

“I can’t. There’s a big trauma coming in, we need all hands on deck.” Owen said as he rushed past Amelia standing in the hallway.

Amelia sighed as she followed after him towards the ambulance bay. She grabbed a gown and some gloves on her way out and proceeded to put them on as they waited. “What happened?” She asked.

“Apartment building collapsed.” Owen said. “They’re bringing everyone here.” He told her.

Amelia nodded as she looked around, waiting for the ambulances to start pouring in. She could hear the sirens in the distance and she knew that they would be there soon. “Listen, I just wanted to–”

“Not here.” Owen told her.

Amelia sighed and looked up as the first ambulance came through. She followed after Owen as the EMTs opened the doors and pulled the gurney out. “24 year old female. She’s got internal bleeding and a broken wrist.” One of the EMTs told them.

“She’s got a nasty head lac. She’s gonna need a CT.” Amelia said as she used her pen light to check her pupils.

“We can do that later.” Owen said as they wheeled her into one of the trauma rooms.

“Owen, she needs a CT now–”

“Amelia, this woman has internal bleeding. Do you want her to die while you’re checking her head? It’s a cut. She needs stitches. Page plastics and go help someone else.” Owen told her.

Amelia looked at him in disbelief. Why was he acting like this toward her? She didn’t understand what she had done for him to be such an ass. Amelia sighed and took her gloves off, throwing them away as she walked out of the room. At this point, she wasn’t even upset about his behavior anymore. She was pissed. He had no right to treat her like that, especially in front of everyone at work. It was embarrassing. She didn’t know what the hell his problem was, but she planned on finding out soon.

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

Amelia took a deep breath and let it out slowly as she stretched just a little to keep herself from stiffening up. She had been in surgery for almost eight hours trying to remove this woman’s massive brain tumor. She hadn’t expected it to take this long and she was exhausted. Amelia hadn’t been getting much sleep, and she’d been taking cases that she knew would be quick, just in and out of the OR in no time. This woman, though, begged Amelia to try and take out her tumor, and she couldn’t back down from the challenge. Amelia loved her job and she loved big cases like this, but when she hadn’t had much sleep, it was exhausting.

“Dr. Shepherd, do you want me to call Dr. Nelson to finish for you?” Her scrub nurse asked.

Amelia shook her head. “Nope. I’m almost done.” She said quietly. When she was finally finished, Amelia took a step back and sighed with relief. She looked at her resident and smiled a little. “Can you close for me?” She asked.

“Of course, yes. Thank you.”

Amelia sighed as she took her gloves and face mask off. She threw them away before she took her gown off and threw it away as well. After she scrubbed out, she dried her hands and walked out into the hallway. She was exhausted and ready to go home. It had been a long day and she was still pissed at Owen for the way he spoke to her earlier that morning. As she walked through the parking lot to her car, Amelia heard footsteps coming up behind her. Just as she stopped and turned around to see who it was, Owen bumped into her, almost making her fall. “Owen, what the hell?” She said as she steadied herself.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to run into you like that.” He told her. “Are you okay?” He asked.

“I’m fine.” She said as she started walking again.

Owen quickly caught up to her and walked beside her to her car. “I owe you an apology.” He said softly.

“Really?” Amelia asked sarcastically.

Owen sighed and grabbed her hand to get her to stop walking. “Amelia..” He said softly. “I’m sorry. For upsetting you earlier and for how I spoke to you. I shouldn’t have yelled at you the way I did. You were only doing your job.” He said. “I’m really sorry.”

Amelia sighed and nodded once. “Thanks.” She said softly before she walked the few feet to her car and unlocked it. “I’ll see you at home.” She said before she got in and started her car. She pulled out of her spot and drove past him, still standing there.

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

The Next Day, 2pm

“Amelia?”

“I’m busy.”

“We have to go.”

“Owen, I’m in the middle of a surgery here.”

Owen sighed. “We have an appointment at 2:45.” He told her.

“I said I’ll be there, and I will.” She said. “I’m almost done. I’ll meet you there.”

* * *

“I am so sorry. I know I’m late. Surgery ran a little longer than expected.” Amelia said as she rushed through the door and sat down on the couch beside Owen.

“You’re fine. Owen and I were just talking.” Dr. Phillips told her.

“Oh.” Amelia replied as she glanced at Owen. “Did I miss anything?” She asked.

Owen shook his head. “Nothing important.” He told her.

“Okay..” Amelia said softly as she looked at the doctor.

“Okay, so today I’m going to ask you some questions to try and get to know you better as a couple.” Dr. Phillips told them. “First off... how long have you two been together?” She asked.

“We’re not together.” Owen said softly.

“You know what she means.” Amelia said with a sigh. “We’ve been.. on and off for about four years.” She told her.

“Okay.” The therapist said as she wrote that down in her notepad. “I remember Owen saying something last week about you being his wife. You’ve been married before?” She asked.

Amelia nodded. “Yeah, we got married about... two and a half years ago, I think.” She said.

“And when did you get divorced?” She asked, still writing.

“About a year and a half later. Give or take.” Amelia replied.

“Okay. And how was your marriage?” The therapist asked. “Was it good? Did you get along better?” She asked.

“It was good... at first–”

“Yeah, up until you just ran away and decided to hide out at your resident’s house until our marriage collapsed.” Owen interrupted.

“Owen, really... it’s in the past, can we please move on from it?” Amelia asked.

“Do you want me to talk about my feelings more or do you want me to shut you out? Make up your mind.” He told her.

“Let’s hear what he has to say...” Dr. Phillips said gently.

Amelia looked over at him and raised a brow. “Yes, please.. tell me what I did to screw our marriage up.” She said.

“You ran away.” Owen said. “You told me you wanted to have kids, so we started trying. Then you take a pregnancy test and it’s negative so you run away? And then all of a sudden you don’t want to have a baby.”

“It wasn’t all of a sudden–”

“It seemed pretty all of a sudden to me.” Owen said. “And that’s not even the point. You ran away, Amelia. You thought I was going to get mad at you for not wanting to try again so you ran away.”

“That’s not why I ran–”

“Then why?”

Amelia sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. “You know why...” She told him.

“Amelia...” Dr. Phillips said softly. “Tell him. This is how you communicate.” She said.

Amelia sighed again and looked over at Owen, meeting his eyes. She could already feel the tears welling up in hers and she hated it. “Because of Christopher.” She whispered. “I was scared to have a baby because of Christopher.” She admitted.

Owen sighed and looked away. He hated seeing her cry and he felt bad because he was the reason for it. “You could have told me before...” He said softly. “Before we even started trying... you seemed like you really wanted to have kids.” He said as he glanced at her again. “When I asked you how many, you said–”

“Five.” Amelia said with a nod. “I know.” She whispered. “And I did. I’ve always wanted kids. But,.. Owen, my baby died. And I don’t know what will happen if I ever get pregnant again. If I even can...”

“Why wouldn’t you be able to?” He asked her.

“I don’t know... I’m just.. it’s a possibility. We tried for weeks and I never got pregnant. Not to mention the times that we weren’t trying, but not doing anything to prevent it either.” Amelia said. “What if I can’t get pregnant again?” She asked. “Would you still want to be married to me if I couldn’t?”

Owen sighed. “Amelia... I tried. I tried to get you to come home and work it out. But, you wouldn’t. All you wanted to do was avoid me. And when I caught you and tried to talk to you, all we did was fight.” He said. “If I didn’t want to be married to you, I wouldn’t have married you in the first place.”

Amelia took a deep breath. It was her turn to look away this time. She blinked her tears away as she tried to breathe and calm herself down. She didn’t want to cry. Not in front of them.

“Let me ask... when did you adopt the child you have now?” Dr. Phillips asked.

“We just adopted him a little over a week ago. Just a day or two before we saw you last.” Owen said.

“Oh okay. Were you together then?” She asked them as she wrote in her notepad.

“No..” Owen said softly. He took a deep breath as she looked and Amelia. “That’s... a long story.” He told her.

“Okay. We can save that for another time.” Dr. Phillips said softly. “Let me ask you... and based on what I’ve got written down here, I already see where this is going, but... Owen. I want you to tell me... do you feel like you two communicate as well as you should? As much as you should?” She asked.

Owen sighed as he thought about his answer. He glanced at Amelia before he looked down at his hands. “Honestly? No.” He told her. He looked at the doctor again and shook his head slightly. “I don’t. We don’t. And I think that’s one of our main problems.” He said.

Dr. Phillips nodded and turned to Amelia. “Amelia, what about you? Do you think you two communicate as much as you should?” She asked.

Amelia shook her head and wiped her eyes. “I.. no. I know we don’t.” She whispered. She looked over at Owen, her eyes wet from the tears. “I’m sorry that I talk so much. I’ve done it all my life, but even more so since I got sober. It’s a coping mechanism. But, I... I’ll try.. to stop. I’ll try to slow it down or just... stop talking about my feelings altogether if it helps. I just want you to talk to me about how you’re feeling. If I do something that bothers you, tell me about it. Don’t shut me out. Because that makes things worse. I will do whatever it takes to make sure you feel comfortable talking to me about things.” She told him.

Owen sighed as he looked into her eyes. She was hurting and he hated that. They were far from okay, but maybe this was a step in the right direction. He knew Amelia couldn’t just stop talking about her feelings, but maybe if she let him talk about his instead of just assuming how he felt all the time, things would get better. “I’ll try.” He said softly. “But, I don’t want you to stop. Just... let me talk every once in a while. Give me a chance to tell you how I feel instead of assuming.” He told her.

Amelia nodded. “Okay... I can try.” She whispered.

Dr. Phillips smiled as she wrote in her notepad. “Alright. I think we’ve made great progress today.” She said. “We still have some things to work on, though, so I’d like to see you again.” She told them.

“Yeah, of course.” Owen said softly as they all stood up. “Thank you.” He said before they left.

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

When they got home, Amelia took Leo inside and set him down in the living room floor by his toys. Once he was occupied, Amelia took her coat off and hung it up by the door before she went to see what they had to cook for dinner.

“Amelia..”

“Yeah?”

Owen took a breath and waited for her to turn around before he spoke. “I just want to apologize... for making you cry earlier. I didn’t mean–”

“It’s fine. You don’t have to apologize.” She told him. “I knew that everything was going to come out eventually.” She said with a shrug. “It’s okay.”

Owen nodded and looked down. “This doesn’t mean that I think any less of you as a person.” He told her as he met her eyes again. “I just feel like... right now... that therapist’s office is the only place I can get things off my chest that have been bothering me for so long...”

“Owen, you can talk to me. I’ve told you that. You’ve known that for years.” Amelia said.

“I know. But, it’s hard to open up to you. And I’m not trying to upset you or hurt you... I’m just.. I don’t feel comfortable opening up to you right now. Maybe... one day.. but not yet.” He said.

Amelia nodded. “That’s fair..” She said. Owen nodded once and turned to walk out of the room. “Owen..”

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?”

He turned back around and met her eyes once more. “Anything.” He said.

Amelia took a deep breath and let it out slowly before she spoke. “Do you think we’ll be okay?” She asked.

“Honestly?” He said, then he shook his head just slightly. “I don’t know. But, I do know one thing...”

“What’s that?” She asked.

“In the end.. when this is all over... I really hope we are.”

[divagonzo]

Many times I’ve seen comments about how the Harry Potter cast avoided the “child star curse” and I want your opinion on that because I don’t think those kids were being treated well and I always find it shocking how everyone thinks their childhoods in the spotlight were something magically wonderful. Also, I hate how people talk about child-stars gone wrong because the aim is always to mock or attack the kid instead of realizing their behavior is a consequence of trauma and abuse.

Mornin’ Nonnie. Wow. That’s a bucketful of questions this morning.

Lemme get a huge cuppa so I can put some coherent thought into this set of questions.

RE: The Child Star Curse…. you’ve hit on the enormous Pandora’s Box here with this topic. No lie there.

Triggering mentions are in the tags for those who blacklist and don’t want to read on such things on a Sunday morning.

I’m putting all of this under the cut since this got really, really long really fast.

How did the kids avoid it where so many got lost and lost their way growing into adulthood? If you notice (I will speak of Eyebrows separately because her situation is pretty different by comparison)…. most of the main kids had a terrific support net of family at home - who could be wise to keep their kids grounded (as in feet on the ground and not under discipline/punishment). Sure they all had some mis-steps - but then I’ve never known a teenager who hasn’t made a mistake or 10 while transitioning to adulthood.

Dan? Dan had a serious drinking problem ‘til he decided to sober up (and I really commend him for taking that enormous step. It’s hard as hell to choose at such a young age that you have an addictive personality and that you can’t moderate the drinking and it’s smarter/safer to do without. (And it’s much easier to walk away at the younger age than in your late 20′s  30s 40s more when more damage has been done.)

Rupert? If anyone had been the most grounded, I’d say it’s him. His parents are top bants there, with his siblings and friends keeping him from being too much of a git. (And also being so b* smart in investing his funds early into a property owner to have his wealth but also paying his taxes, too.)

Emma? I think her situation was more fishbowl than the others because of the growing objectification of her and also how rude, lude, and crass men were treating her (including the paparazzi). I also think that she took advantage of such for her benefit to try and tame it down, and while it was mostly on point, there were moments where it was painfully obvious that she was there primarily for the male gaze. O_O She did take advantage of her privilege, with the additional benefits, but considering how much she’s been under the spotlight and constant attention of media and more, she’s done pretty well. (I won’t get into the issue of tax avoidance from the Panama Papers since I disagree with the mindset that the uber-wealthy should pay out 90% to benefit everyone else when they are already shouldering much of the social support net for those who need the assistance)

As for Tom and Bonnie and Evanna and the others? I think they have done pretty darn well for avoiding the child star curse.

But I also think the biggest part of it has been that they weren’t necessarily in the California/Hollywood scene, where it’s pretty much a free-for-all with access to anything and everything you’d want to delve into - along with the really ugly dark side of the business. (Yes, I’m tip-toeing around that issue since it’s pretty nasty.)

But how they were treated? I’m sure that the trappings of their situation made it more difficult, with constant media scrutiny and having so many people involved to have them appearing…. more appealing. While I’m sure for every one person there would be 100 who would give their toes and fingers to have that opportunity, it’s truly a Gilded Cage, of all of the pretty trappings and benefits - but with the enormous loss of privacy and anonymity.

Secondly, and more importantly, you also broach a huge issue, one that is constantly overlooked and also attracted the issue of victim-blaming. The ones who have gone off the rails, the kids who got lost along the way, were put under such scrutiny and given so much opportunity with little to no parental discipline to prevent problems, that, once again, media blame falls on the kids rather than the responsibility of the adults who should be there to support, encourage, and if need be, protect the kids.

I’m gonna say it right here in plain words: Being a teenager is Bloody Fucking hard. It’s triple hard if you are in such a position of making money hand over fist and people become blinded by the greed, attention, and privilege from what they have in those moments.  How many horror stories do you hear of where a young actor or actress gets into drugs/alcohol/pills and then crashes and burns spectacularly? For every one success story, there are dozens that crash and burn.

Is it a self-medicating of ones who aren’t necessarily neurotypical? Or is it the craving of the validation that comes from the attention and when not receiving it, needs the self-medication? Coping with trauma behind the scenes? Trauma before getting into acting and using the benefits to dull the pain?

I’ll bring up 3 in particular, just to make the point here.

One is Cory Haim. He was a young actor back in the 80s, in quite a few films, and was one of the teenage hearthrob pin-up boys. While he may have never been an A-lister as an adult (and reading up on his film credits, was probably B lister) he was an A-lister as a teenager. But there are plenty of speculation, especially by his friend Corey Feldman, of abuse when he was a teenager. (I won’t get into it because that’s rumor, speculation, and more) When he quit being cute his roles dried up to C-list roles, in straight to video shows, tv shows and voice-over work in video games.

From one of his interviews:

I was working on The Lost Boys (1987) when I smoked my first joint. But a year before that, I was starting to drink beer on the set of the film Lucas (1986). I lived in Los Angeles in the ‘80s, which was not the best place to be. I did cocaine for about a year and a half, then it led to crack. I started on the downers which were a hell of a lot better than the uppers because I was a nervous wreck. But one led to two, two led to four, four led to eight, until at the end it was about 85 a day - the doctors could not believe I was taking that much. And that was just the valium - I’m not talking about the other pills I went through. 

Did he get into drugs to dull the pain of trauma? Did he get into it out of boredom? We’ll never really know since he died back in 2010, penniless. His star burned out fast after he quit being cute/adorable/a money-maker. Was trauma involved? I sure think so (along with former child actor River Phoenix, who was also mentioned in the dark side of Hollywood, too.)

#2 is Justin Bieber. (Yes, I know. Bear with me.)

He got his break early on doing YT videos and got signed on - and took off like a rocket. But he (now that he’s older and hopefully a little wiser) now admits that he isn’t neurotypical and is pretty darn honest about his mental health struggles. (And yes, this also includes the few years before he was participating in bad boy behaviors, mistreating his girlfriends, etc.) Now? He found some stability in his life, able to admit he has problems and is getting help (and does have some support from his family including his new wife and her family.) (Let me also broach this here in plain language: Being Christian and having Grace doesn’t mean that you have zero problems from there on out. Far from it. It means that forgiveness is there with contrition. It means having a framework to work on being better.)

Will he still make mistakes? Oh sure. Being human means making mistakes. Wisdom is learning from them.

Lastly? Miley Cyrus. (Yes, I know. I’m mentioning those who are fun to laugh at. But these three are prime examples - but also with examples of coming through it all - or not.)

She’s been under the spotlight for decades, now. She’s in a show-business family. Godmother is Dolly “I love everyone and then some” Parton. And she’s one of the Disney Kids, including some spectacular failures on her part (and I’m lumping in her on/off again with her now-husband Liam.)

Did she lose her way for a while? I sure think so. But then the media spotlight x 100 made it harder, with every mistake under intense scrutiny. (This includes some questionable choices in a presentation of herself to the world. O_O)

Was she abused as one of the Disney Kids? Frankly? I think so. Disney isn’t all bright colors and silly shows and enormous paychecks. Rumours run amuck of behind the scenes abuse and mistreatment. Even having a famous father probably didn’t shield her completely from being mishandled by adults in her sphere of acknowledgment.

It’s the utter dark side of the business - that is an open opportunity for adults to take advantage of kids when they aren’t intensely protected and shielded from predator adults - straight and gay. There’s so many quiet mentions of adults abusing girls and boys in their charge - to disasterous results mostly.

But from 2 of the three here? They are examples of hope, where you can make mistakes, get lost along the way, feel the intense grip of imposter syndrome, of mediocre achievements and still succeed - and survive mistakes. They are a hope that whatever has happened, trauma and abuse wise, that you can survive it and, with serious professional help, get through it.

As I am prone to do, especially with those I mentor, is that I won’t tell you what to think - just that you do think. But if a mistake is made (or even a really p*ss poor choice made) I’ll help you survive it.

2 of the three had their family and support net available to help them survive the choices made, leading to wisdom on what not to do - how to cope/endure/survive what has happened.

These kids were probably victims of abuse and trauma, before and during their early acting careers. But 2 of the three are examples of not living a lifetime of being a victim - but a bad-fucking-ass survivor.

To those who have survived abuse and trauma as a child?

I’m gonna tell y’all who might be reading this, including my Kiddos:

It’s not your fault you were abused. Never. Full-stop.

It’s the responsibility of the ones who hurt you. They are to blame. And G_d as my witness I better never run into them. I have zero qualms burning a bitch for hurting a child.