#I’m in a very meta mood today

[pastself]

AAAAAAAAAAAAAA! I read the deleted scene with the phone and the scholarship and I wish there was moooooooooore. So like, Tony doesn't want to be seen as a daddy (which is interesting because of everything) and Peter doesn't have a daddy kink which fair. But what happens after Peter says if Tony was only else, he would have hung up?

lol so THIS is why I ended the scene there. Because at this stage in their relationship, Tony can barely talk about things and his default is still to expect the absolute worst from his partners — even Peter. It’s why he tried to break them up so early, why he was so afraid Peter would be angry about the apartment, May’s building, etc.

So, in this scene, he doesn’t hear Peter when Peter tries to compare the support to family — all he hears is “give me money for my attention” i.e. be my sugar daddy. Which, no, he absolutely doesn’t want that. Not from Peter. Not that he can express it out loud, but what he wants is someone who relates his gifts to his love. That’s what he thought he was getting from Peter (correctly) and he’s suddenly angry at having the terms changed on him (which Peter was not trying to do).

Peter meanwhile is going through the worst weeks of his life, facing financial ruin, and NOW has to deal with Tony being emotionally incompetent. He tried being reasonable and sensible, but he only has so many reserves. So either he was just going to end up giving in to Tony’s original request, or saying “fine, if that’s what that means, I want a daddy” and it would taint everything, or he’d give the apartment back. ALL BAD OPTIONS so aren’t we glad that’s not where this fic went!

For clarity, I don’t think Tony would mind roleplaying a sugar daddy with Peter (post-latest-chapter) — because he’s pretty sure now that that’s not what Peter’s going for. He also doesn’t give a damn if the press think that’s what he is, as long as Peter doesn’t think that. (In fact, I think there’d be nothing worse in the world for Tony than if Peter HAD been thinking that this whole time.)

Peter though — he could get into the own me/control me dynamic in some very specific, limited & defined aspects of their relationship. But he’d probably only make the effort if it was something Tony was into. Daddy kink, though? No. He just has a “this man loves me so much he will get me anything and everything and that level of love makes me self-combust” kink.

Thanks for the ask dear anon 💕

[dduane]

Is there an alphabet or lexicon of the human version of The Speech? And if so, where can I find it?

No, there's not.

(And as I've been asked about this before, I'm just going to paste the answer in here—since though the original post is buried in the depths of Tumblr somewhere, I do have my saved draft.)

Per these, which came in very close to each other:

@melbetweenstars

This is something I’ve always wondered but never realized I could actually ask about until I read through that long meta response. (go me.) How much of the Speech do you have fleshed out? Do you create it as you go on more of a need-to-know basis, or do you have vocabulary and grammar structures ready to go? Basically I’d be really interested to hear any Speech-related meta if you have the chance because fictional languages are hella cool!

and:

@sansa–clegane

I just read your post on dark wizards and field terminologies, and am totally loving the Speech translations you provided! Now I’m wondering, though, how much of the language you actually have mapped out or established? I’m very curious as to what, for example, the standard “I - you - he/she/it/etc. - we - you plural - they” conjugation endings would be– or if there even are any in a language as complex as the Speech. I’M JUST REALLY INTERESTED IN FANTASY LINGUISTICS AAAHH

Linguistics is a big deal for me too, as people who read my stuff will have guessed. And needless to say, the Speech is on my mind a lot (along with other “magical languages” and their history/histories).

So let’s take a moment to first to make it clear what the Speech is not. It’s not what’s sometimes referred to as an Adamic language  (whether you take the meaning that God used it to talk to Adam, or that Adam invented it to name things.) It’s also nothing whatsoever to do with Enochian. It’s not an occultic language, or anything invented by human beings.

The basic concept is that the Speech is the language, or the very large body of descriptors, used to create the universe (and very likely others, but let’s leave that to one side for the moment). Such words are also assumed, having been used in the building of the universe, to be able to control the bits they’ve built. Every word, therefore, when used ought ideally to sound as if it contains some tremendous power. 

Writing something like that every time the Speech is used, even for a much better writer than I am, would be very, very hard.

(We need a cut here. Under the cut: Ursula Le Guin, C. S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien, J. K. Rowling, and others. ...Also a fair number of beetles. And a bear.)

It’s worth mentioning as a matter of information that I met the concept of secret / divine magical languages in Le Guin’s Earthsea long before I ran into it in C. S. Lewis. (I came pretty late to Lewis’s non-Narnian work.) Yet here Lewis, as more than occasionally before, is my master, having been over this ground right back in the mid-1940s.

There’s a point in the final novel of the so-called “Planetary Trilogy”, that big fat (now endlessly problematic but still fun-in-the-right-moods) book That Hideous Strength, where Elwin Ransom—philologist, unwilling visitor to Mars and Venus, unnerved conscript into the wars in Heaven, and Lewis’s take on both the Pendragon and the wounded Fisher King—is instructing his friend and co-linguistics scholar Dimble on how to behave in a meeting with the newly awakened, and potentially quite dangerous, Merlin Ambrosius. (The POV in this passage is that of a lady named Jane who's just recently fallen into company with the group supporting Ransom.)

“You understand, Dimble? Your revolver in your hand, a prayer on your lips, your mind fixed on Maleldil [just think “Christ” for the moment: surprise surprise, that’s the parellel Lewis is using here]. Then, if he stands, conjure him.” “What shall I say in the Great Tongue?” “Say that you come in the name of God and all angels and in the power of the planets from one who sits today in the seat of the Pendragon, and command him to come with you. Say it now.” And Dimble, who had been sitting with his face drawn, and rather white, between the white faces of the two women, and his eyes on the table, raised his head, and great syllables of words that sounded like castles came out of his mouth. Jane felt her heart leap and quiver at them. Everything else in the room, seemed to have become intensely quiet: even the bird, and the bear***, and the cat, were still, staring at the speaker. The voice did not sound like Dimble’s own: it was as if the words spoke themselves through him from some strong place at a distance—or as if they were not words at all but present operations of God, the planets, and the Pendragon. For this was the language spoken before the Fall and beyond the Moon, and the meanings were not given to the syllables by chance, or skill, or long tradition, but truly inherent in them as the shape of the great Sun is inherent in the little waterdrop. This was Language herself, as she first sprang at Maleldil’s bidding out of the molten quicksilver of the star called Mercury on Earth, but Viritrilbia in Deep Heaven.

Now if that’s not like being hit over the head with a hammer, I don’t know what is.* That moment has been before the eyes-of-my-mind for a long time as I’ve worked with the Speech.

Note, however, that Lewis does a very wise thing here. He doesn’t actually spell out any of the words out for you. Because in the reader’s mind, there’s always the six-year-old saying, “Go on, say the word: see how it sounds, see what happens…!” And when you recite the magic spell, it doesn’t work. The words come out sounding, well, like any others. And maybe not your interior six-year-old, but your interior twelve- or fifteen-year-old—the ego-state that’s about keeping you from getting hurt or looking stupid in front of other people who aren’t privy to or supportive of your dreams—says, “See, it was just another word, just a bunch of nonsense. You got fooled. Dummy!” No wise writer, I think, willingly sets their readership up for such easy and constant disappointment. It's tough enough to weave, and hold in place, the spell that is prose. Handing the audience a potential spellbreaker, over and over again, is folly. 

And by rights the Speech ought to be like Lewis’s example above. If in reality you were to hear the words used to restructure matter or undo gravity, they ought to shake the air in your chest like a Saturn V launch, they should raise the hair on the back of your neck to hear them used; they should freak you out. But a long string of invented syllables isn’t going to do that. I’m stuck with using English to produce even the echo of such a result.

Which means I have to go Lewis’s route… mostly. Here and there I’ll add in a Speech-sourced word or phrase when it supports the narrative or makes it easier for characters to talk about what’s going on—as, when working with wizardry, you do sometimes have to call in precisionist-level language for words that have no casual English cognates: just as you would if you were working in particle physics or organic chemistry at the molecular level. But that’s all I’m going to do… because if you do too much linguistic work in this regard, you constantly run the risk of your readers being distracted from the real business at hand, which is the interactions between/among the characters.

The tech inherent to a work of fantastic fiction is always an issue in this regard. Ideally L. Sprague de Camp’s very useful definition of science fiction, tweaked here for fantasy, ought to be a guideline: “A fantasy story is a human story with a human problem and a human solution that could never have happened without its fantastic content.” Yet inside the definition, there’s still a lot of ways to go wrong. Too much merely human stuff, and a work of fantasy turns into a soap with some casual magical gimmickry—all too often these days labeled as “magic realism”, when it’s not publisher code for “We’d call this fantasy if we had the nerve and we didn’t think it was going to tag us as ‘genre’ and keep us off the best-seller lists”. Too little human-problem-and-human-solution, and it turns into a modern version of what James Blish (God rest him), when writing as the gently merciless science fiction critic William Atheling Jr., used to call “The 'Greater New York and New Jersey Municipal Zeppelin Gas Works’ school of speculative fiction”, where you tour your readership through the Wonderfulness Of Your Tech (magical or otherwise) until they expire of boredom while waiting for someone to fucking do something.

You have to find a centerline between the extremes—indeed pretty much a tightrope—and walk it with some care. I’d guess that J. K. Rowling ran into the need for this balancing act; while never having read the Potter books, I nonetheless get a sense that you get the occasional Wingardium leviosa without also being burdened with long strings of magical Latin. (Though I confess that the answer to the question “Where does the magic come from? And what’s it for?” as it applies to her universe could be of some interest. I have no idea whether this ever gets explicitly handled.**) 

Anyway, it’d be way too easy for the YW books to become long discourses on the Speech and its use. This aspect of the “tech”, I think, gets more than enough time onstage. Having once established that words are a tool, indeed the tool for a wizard, the ur-Tool, making every spell they build a resonance between what they do and the initial/ongoing work of Creation—my business is to stay focused on the challenge of driving plot forward by interactions between human beings (and all kinds of others) who have conflicting agendas.

…So much for the tl;dr. I do have some very basic grammatical structures tucked away, but they’re not in any fit state for other people to look at. The Speech, I think, is really best treated as an ongoing mystery that unfolds a little at a time, as required, and leaves everybody wanting more.

HTH!

*It also leads into one of numerous affectionate nods in this book toward Tolkien, as philologist, fellow novelist, and Lewis’s good friend. It's no accident that when Ransom meets up with Merlin himself, a little later in the narrative, the question of this language—the proper name of the Great Tongue is “Old Solar"—comes up again. When discussing what language they’ll speak with each other during their upcoming negotiations [they apparently start out in a rather beat-up and denatured medieval Latin], Ransom says to Merlin about the language he’d prefer to be working in, "It has been long since it was heard. Not even in Numinor was it heard in the streets.”

The Stranger gave no start … but he spoke with a new interest. “Your masters let you play with dangerous toys,” he said. “Tell me, slave, what is Numinor?” “The true West,” said Ransom. “Well,” said the other.

Yeah, “well.” Better scholars than I have dealt with the relationship between these two, as scholars and writers and friends, so enough of that for the moment. But it’s very sweet to see Lewis do something in his books that I’ve done with mine.

**It’s always possible, of course, that in the HP universe this issue is a surd: like asking “where physics comes from”. (Well, not a surd precisely, if your spiritual life tends a certain way. Mine tends toward “Whoever or whatever made the universe, that’s who made physics. And they must really like it, because they made a metric shit ton of it!” (This answer also works for beetles, though that's a slightly different issue.) :)

But if there’s a most-fundamental difference between my wizardly universe and Rowling’s, it might be best revealed in the third question that came up for me directly after “What if there was a user’s manual for human beings/the world/the universe?” and “If there was, where would it have come from?”: specifically, “And why?”

***There's a bear in the Pendragon's kitchen. Thoth only knows what initially brought that on for Lewis, but it's a character insertion that pays off later, so (shrug) wtf.

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

Wonderful World - Part 1

Hello friends, part 1 is here! This one is long, but it is setting the scene to show where each character is at as this story begins. I really hope you guys like it! And again, it's just starting to be developed so if there is anything that you'd like to see happen in the story please let me know, I'd love to hear your feedback and suggestions!

Learn more about the premise of the story, see main (original) character mood boards, and character casting HERE

Warnings: Brief mentions of suicide and depression

WC: 11.3k

“Alright, alright! Listen up!” Diana’s voice carried above the rest of the voices as her class continued chattering as the class period came to an end, “Before you go, I know it’s only our second week back, but I will remind you of the paper you have due in 2 weeks!” She called over the commotion, “Dos paginas, completamente en Español, sobre sus carreras y las metas que tienen para el futuro!” Diana reminded the students in her intermediate level Spanish class and a few of her students nodded while a few others looked on perplexed, “If you need to hear that in English you can find the information on your syllabus!” She smiled as they started filtering out. She rounded the podium at the front of the classroom and started packing up her things.

“Profesora Beltran?” She heard and glanced up to see one of her students approaching. She taught Spanish to college students and was proud to be one of the more popular professors of the World Languages department.

“Yes, Maddie?” She asked as she shifted her focus to the young girl before her.

“Ummm, I am still undecided in my major, so I’m not sure what my goals for the future are. I was wondering if you would allow me to write my paper on something else?” She asked nervously and Diana’s expression shifted into one of compassion and understanding as she removed her glasses.

“Oh, certainly Maddie. You can write about a profession that interests you or a career you’d like to have?” She suggested and Maddie smiled timidly.

“Ummm, I actually run a small candle making business, I mostly sell on Etsy and I want to do that full-time, but my parents are a bit opposed to that. They don’t see much of a future there, is that something I could write about?” She inquired and Diana smiled.

“I love candles! I think if you’re passionate about that then you should have plenty to say about that.” She decided and Maddie smiled brightly upon hearing this.

“Oh wow, thank you Professor.” 

“Of course.” Diana smiled and soon the girl was heading off.

Despite her win with one of her students right now, Diana wasn’t feeling too great, she was actually feeling extremely anxious today. More than she had in a long while because she would be taking her daughter, Celeste to a therapist for the first time in her life and these were the thoughts plaguing her mind as she made her way through the building and to her office.

Celeste, was her 14 year old daughter and she had been displaying symptoms of depression for a while and despite Diana’s efforts to try and talk to her about it she was consistently met with a huff or an eye roll, which were not surprising responses from a teen girl. But it was just the day before school was back in session that Celeste came up to her in tears and told her that maybe she was a bit depressed. She was 14, a freshman in high school, there were new pressures, academically and socially, and Diana explained to her tearful daughter that depression wasn’t uncommon in her age group and that it was something very treatable and with the right help she could be back to her old self in no time.

It was concerning to Diana when Celeste expressed her apprehension with seeing the school counselor. She said that she was really overworked and that when she first reached out for help in November she was assessed for suicide and upon determining that she was low risk, she was given a pamphlet with coping strategies as appointments were not available until they returned from school after Christmas break. So Diana did what any parent would do and researched for therapists in her area that were accepting clients. It was rather hopeless and eventually she resorted to checking Psychology Today, where she knew she might find options of newer clinicians who were building their clientele and would have time for their patients. She eventually did find one who had a relatively new practice, his name was Dr. Harry Styles, his website was really nice and easy to navigate, and the information provided there made her feel confident in him and so she made an appointment. It was only an intake, if the vibe wasn’t right she could continue looking, but she just wanted Celeste to get help sooner rather than later and well, today was the day.

She checked the time on her phone and saw it was already 2:30pm so she pulled up the intake forms that he had sent and got to filling them out. Celeste had already filled out an electronic questionnaire outlining her symptoms and Diana was just filling out the information about insurance and parental consent to treatment. Soon she was printing the forms out and locking up her office to pick up Celeste from school. 

Celeste was also really nervous for her appointment, which was completely understandable, but Diana talked her down and assured her that the first appointment was just going through the forms that had been filled out and feeling out the vibe with the therapist. Diana assured her that if she didn’t like the therapist that they could keep looking and that seemed to ease some of her daughter’s nerves. After a ten minute drive they were pulling up to an older apartment building and parking out on the street. They made their way inside slowly and right at the bottom floor they saw a directory and he was on floor 5, room A & B, so they rode up to the fifth floor and upon the doors sliding open it was evident that this apartment building had been modified into office spaces. There was a plastic plaque reading Harry Styles, MD beside the frosted glass door with a 5A painted onto the center of the glass. They headed inside and were met with an empty reception desk, but there was a sign on it reading “In Session, I’ll be with you shortly”, so they sat on the couch there and Diana looked around as Celeste pulled out her phone. It was home-y, the color palette was neutral, but not in the way that made you feel like you were in a model home or something of that natural. The couches they were on were evidently new, but the furniture looked loved-on, there were magazines and coloring books for kids and adults on the table before them, and the wall art was minimalistic with positive messages and bursts of color that drew her eye. It couldn’t have been more than five minutes before they heard some movement on the other side of the reception area and then another door close and moments later the door across the room opened up to reveal a tall and very handsome man. Upon seeing her and Celeste he smiled and stepped out to the reception area.

“Hello, you must be my 3:30, Celeste right?” He asked. He had an accent and his voice was deep, but calming - not daunting in any manner.

“Hi yeah, that’s me.” Celeste said standing and offering him reluctant smile.

“Nice to meet you, Celeste. I’m Harry.” He said coming over and extending his hand to her and she shook it politely as Diana stood as well and their eyes met and Harry’s pupils immediately grew in size at the woman before him. She was definitely shorter than him, but she looked really professional and put together, so he assumed she might be Celeste’s mother, but how? She looked young enough to be a sister, “You must be her…?” He asked Diana instead of just assuming her relation.

“I’m her mom, Diana Beltran.” Diana introduced herself, extending her hand to meet his, his beautiful eyes met her own as they greeted each other and she felt that his eyes were just burning into her soul; it almost felt like time stopped for the moment they greeted each other.

“Wonderful, nice to meet you as well.” Harry greeted with a warm smile. As soon as their hands broke contact he clasped them together in front of his chest, “Have you been waiting long?” He asked and she shook her head.

“Hardly, just a few minutes.” She assured.

“Perfect.” He smiled at her and then Celeste, “I know you filled out the online questionnaire, were you able to complete the other intake forms?” He asked them.

“Yes, here they are.” Diana cut in and reached into her tote to pull out a folder and handed them to him. 

“Excellent.” He smiled, “If you’re ready Celeste, we can head back now.” He said and she looked to her mom for a moment.

“It’s alright.” Diana assured softly, “I’ve got your things.” She said extending her hand and Celeste gave her mom her phone before following Harry back into the main space and then the door shut. Now that she was out of sight, Diana felt even more stressed and she just hoped that this guy made an attempt to make Celeste feel heard and comfortable.

************

Harry tried to reflect as much calm as possible because he could feel the apprehension and anxiety emanating from his new, young potential client. She took a seat on the couch in the position furthest away from his seat as possible, which was typical of most first timers. He let her know he was just going to check the forms out and she could look around and then proceeded to open up the folder that her mother had so kindly put together with the intake forms and he paged through them.

Celeste liked his office, it was cozy and his rug was cool. She then noticed a record player on the sideboard against the wall and she wanted to look at it more closely. As her eyes traveled down she noticed that one of the panels was open and that there were actually records in there and she was curious about what he had in his collection.

“Ummm, Dr. Styles, can I look at the records?” She asked nervously and he looked up from the form he was reading over, with a friendly smile.

“Certainly!” He encouraged her and she slowly got up and went over to look at the records inside of the cabinet. She smiled as she recognized a handful of them as she flicked through them. He also had some candle going on another little table by the window that reminded her of her mom’s bedroom, it was maybe the same one. When she spared him a glance she saw that he was still looking through the forms her mom had brought and she bit her lip nervously when they made eye contact.

“Y-your office is nice.” She said as she made her way back to the couch and he smiled.

“Thank you.” He expressed his gratitude at her compliment.

“I especially like your rug, it’s really cool.”

“Yeah? It’s my favorite thing in here actually.” He said excitedly and she smiled nervously, “Did you see any music you liked?” He asked and she nodded.

“Obviously the Beatles and some Elvis.” She said and he smiled, “And your Wings ones, Paul is my favorite Beatle.” She explained.

“Get out of town, mine too!” He grinned and she smiled wider, she was still looking really nervous, “So apart from having sick taste in music, what are other things that you enjoy?” He asked and she started to talk a little bit more about her interests. Harry learned that she played guitar and that her favorite classes in school were Human Biology and choir, and that she was considering joining the drama club, and a few other surface level facts. She seemed a little hesitant to talk about herself though, almost as if she was concerned that she would say something wrong.

“You know, it’s my job to listen to you, no matter what you want to talk about and I won’t judge you, so if anything comes to mind you can just say it.” He assured and she exhaled and nodded, “Is this your first time trying therapy?” He asked and she nodded.

“Yeah.” She then responded verbally, “I’m kinda nervous, I guess, sorry.”

“It’s normal for you to feel nervous when you’re doing something brand new.” He assured her, “What about it makes you feel nervous?” He asked and she sighed and looked down at her fingers that were twisting together in her lap.

“Just…I don’t know…I mean first of all you’re a stranger.” She said and he hummed.

“True.” He said and she shrugged before proceeding.

“And I guess I’m nervous that it won’t work on me?” She said in a questioning tone as their eyes met again and he bit his lip as he listened to her express her concerns over treatment and what had happened with the counselor at her school and it was honestly very disappointing to hear her experience.

“I’m so sorry that happened to you. I understand why you’re so hesitant about this, but let me let you in on something. Whether this works or not is totally up us being a team. It’s my job to listen, guide you, and give you tools to help you get better and it’s your job to try and use the tools I give you as recommended. The only way it won’t work is if one of us is not doing our part, and I promise you that if you decide to stick with me I will always do my part.” He said with certainty and a friendly smile and she nodded, “Of course, sometimes just talk therapy isn’t sufficient or isn’t working as quickly as we’d like and if that’s the case we can talk about medication to help. So if you really feel it’s not helping you can tell me so that I can make sure that I am doing everything I can do to get you back on your feet.” He explained and she nodded along again

“Well, I hope this works.” She said and he chuckled.

“I promise you I will do my absolute best.” He reassured her and she smiled and with that he started to get into the session. He started to explain to her the confidentiality clause and what kinds of things are excluded from that, he went over his role and responsibilities as the clinician, and then they started going over the questionnaire she had filled out, and what she wanted to get out of therapy. As Harry listened on he jotted down a couple things that stood out and his own questions that he wanted to ask and the longer she spoke the more it was evident that she was experiencing some depression. As she finished recounting her side of things he took over explaining what he thought would be the best treatment plan for her and how he wanted to approach her situation.

Celeste liked the way he talked to her and how he expressed himself very clearly. When he answered her or asked her a question she could tell he had listened to everything she had said and was so patient. The things she felt were confusing sometimes and he didn’t push her when she would answer with an “I don’t know”. He was just so nice that she felt comfortable with him quite quickly, a lot of the stuff she had told him about what was happening at school, she hadn’t even told her mom and that was new for her because they were quite open with each other. But once they wrapped up she felt really good and she had decided that she wanted to give him a chance.

“So in terms of scheduling, we need to work that out with your mom right?” He asked and she nodded, “OK, perfect. I’m going to have her switch with you in just a moment, but just so we’re clear, like I said at the start, anything we talk about in session just stays between us. I’m just going to go over some of the formalities with her and answer any general questions she might have for me. But if you would like me to be able to share your progress or any information about our sessions with your mom then you can always sign a release, but only if you really want to.” He offered.

“Thank you, I’ll give it some thought. And ummm, do I call you doctor or?” She asked and he chuckled.

“I prefer my name, Harry, but if Dr. Harry or Dr. Styles is more comfortable for you then that’s OK with me too.” He assured with a kind smile and she nodded and they both stood and headed to the door.

*************

As soon as the office door opened up Diana flew up from her seat and locked her phone. She saw Celeste come out and then Dr. Styles emerged with a small smile and that made her feel more at ease.

“Mom, he needs to talk with you now.” Celeste informed and Diana nodded.

“OK. I’ll be just a few minutes.” Diana said and reached for her bag before she followed him back to his main consultation room. She had a look around when she walked in and when she went to sit, she sat on the side of the couch nearest to his chair as Harry went to grab his laptop before settling into his seat.

“Is she alright?” Diana asked and he smiled.

“Yeah, she’s good. She did great, by the way.” He reassured her.

“That’s good to hear. I don’t know if she mentioned to you what the school counselor said to her?” Diana asked with a frown.

“Yes, she did. That must be extremely concerning to learn as a parent.” He acknowledged and she nodded, “And I can assure you, that will not be the case here.”

“I would hope not.” She said with a slight chuckle, “I have been to therapy myself and I had such a great experience, I just want to make sure it’s the same for her and that we find the best fit for her and that she won’t be pushed to the side until she’s in distress.” Diana explained and he nodded in understanding, “About how many clients do you have in total?”

“I have 35 total right now.” He said, “Of those 35 I’m seeing 10 on a weekly basis, 15 on a biweekly basis, and the other 10 on a monthly basis or as needed as they have already completed their treatment or just need their medication dosages adjusted.” He explained and she nodded.

“Oh, OK that’s pretty good.” He smiled and nodded, “And you specialize in CBT.”

“Yes, but I do have a more Humanistic approach which is derived from-”

“Dr. Carl Rogers.” She cut in and Harry smiled and nodded.

“Precisely.” He grinned, “And I will assume you know what his approach is about?”

“Yeah. I don’t mean to be a know it all, after I was in therapy I got really into learning more about it and did a minor in clinical psychology in my undergrad.” She explained and he hummed.

“Oh, no worries! It’s good that you know though. Especially with the younger patients, it’s good to see when the parents are invested. Celeste seemed to really understand the process today, which I’d like to think I’m thorough, but I’d assume you walked her through it before.” He said with a smile.

“Yeah, she was so nervous, I gave her a little run down on the way here.” Diana explained with a smile.

“Well, it worked! She opened right up once we got past the daunting stuff.” Harry assured her.

“Oh wow, that’s typically hard for her. You must be good.” She said and he chuckled.

“I think we just have the same taste in rugs and music.” He joked and she laughed a bit before looking back into his eyes.

“So in terms of your assessment, what do you have in mind for a treatment plan?” She asked.

“Well, starting out I would like to see her once a week, treatment is typically 8 to 10 weeks give or take, just depends on her progress.” He explained to Diana who nodded.

“OK, that sounds reasonable. In terms of charge, what is your rate?”

“I’m charging $125 a session. I do offer a special for new clients, if you commit to three sessions I use your intake fee towards the third session.” He explained.

“Oh, why three appointments?” She asked with a curious smile and he chuckled.

“In my experience it’s enough to have a somewhat comprehensive diagnosis at that point. And also by that point people will have hopefully learned some basic tools to use in the future. Also, that’s the point where you start to get annoyed with your therapist so a lot of people flake out for a while. And well for the people that just come in trying to get prescribed meds I mean, that’s a lot of work to go through and so they’ll just fall off the face of the earth.” He said with a grin.

“Oh, I see. That’s smart! Is that something that happens a lot?”

“It has happened to me a few times here, the university is nearby so a lot of self-diagnosed ADHD or OCD people.” He said and she grinned.

“Ah, TikTok fallacies.” She hummed and he nodded.

“Exactly! A lot of them don’t like to hear that they’re perfectly normal with a few quirks.” He explained.

“Geez…I don’t think I ever considered how challenging this job must be.” She said and he chuckled.

“There’s more good days than those kinds of days.” He assured her.

“Well, it’s good to hear that from you.” Diana said and he smiled, “Sorry, back to the topic at hand, how much is it for today’s session and do you accept insurance at all?” She asked.

“Not yet, unfortunately. I’ve submitted several applications to be a network provider but it’s been a nightmare.” He explained with a small frown, “But it’s $100 even.” He said.

“I can imagine the circles they must walk you in.” She sighed through a dry laugh and he nodded.

“You would not believe.” He joked back and she shook her head as she dug through her tote bag for her wallet and pulled out a crisp $100 bill and handed it to him.

“I promise it’s real.” She joked and he laughed.

“Well now I feel like I need to check.” He joked back but headed to his desk and pulled out a little iPad where he started inputting that to give her a receipt. She continued looking around his office, recognizing the scent of the candle burning by a little table he had near the window. Soon he was back before her with a receipt in hand and she took it and started to put it in her bag.

“Well, Dr. Styles-”

“Harry is fine.” He cut in and she nodded.

“OK, well Harry, it was lovely to meet you and I will have a chat with Celeste, see what she thinks and ummm, in any event I’ll be in touch.” She said and he nodded.

“I appreciate that. It’s good to know when people decide to go in a different direction, otherwise I’m left wondering.” He explained and she nodded.

“It’s just professional courtesy, in my opinion.” She shrugged as she fished her keys out of her purse and he saw her university ID on the lanyard.

“Oh, you work at the university?” He asked in slight surprise and she glanced over to him as they approached the door.

“Yeah, I’m the newest faculty member in the World Languages department.” She disclosed.

“Oh, that’s neat. I actually just got hired as an adjunct professor for the department of Mental Health & Behavioral Intervention.” He said with a bright smile.

“Oh congrats! What’re you teaching?”

“It’s a graduate course on Tele-health. After the pandemic it’s important to be able to translate our skills through virtual sessions and a lot of people are having trouble with that. It’s a new class. I teach it twice a week.” He explained and she hummed in interest.

“That sounds really cool.”

“Yeah, thanks. Well, I don’t want to detain you any longer, but it was a pleasure to meet you both.” He said as he opened up his office door and led them through towards the reception area.

“Likewise. Thank you so much for your time.” Diana said turning back to him once more.

“Of course. And Celeste, chin up.” He encouraged her with a smile and she nodded, offering back a smile and soon they were riding back down the elevator in silence. They settled into the car and Diana glanced to Celeste.

“What did you think of Dr. Styles?” She asked and Celeste smiled.

“I like him. He was easy to talk to and he’s really nice. I want to try another session.” She said and Diana smiled.

“OK, sweetie. I liked him too, he’s very sweet.” Diana agreed. 

In a few minutes they were taking off and Diana was driving them to the grocery store to pick up something for dinner. She couldn’t stop thinking about how there was an air of familiarity with this Dr. Styles. If his session with Celeste went anything like their conversation went, she was very happy with the type of help he could provide her. She liked that he still remained professional without making it feel too formal or rigid, there was flow and it was noticeable that he really enjoyed his job.

************

Harry sighed contently as he bid farewell to his final client of the evening and locked up the exit door in his office. He then went to the reception area and also latched that door shut and switched off the lights before heading back to his office. He plopped down into the chair behind his desk with his note pad and opened up his laptop to start typing out his session notes from that day to put in the patients’ electronic files. He then got to Celeste’s notes and started to create a new file for her in his system. He needed to scan in all her paperwork and session notes. Just as he was about to start scanning his phone rang and he saw it was his girlfriend, Rebecca, and he smiled and picked up.

“Hey, love.” He greeted her with warmth.

“Hey, babe!” She responded cheerfully, “How was your day today?” She asked.

“It wasn’t all that busy, but I might have a new client on my roster, things went well so I’m hoping to hear back soon.” He said.

“Aw that’s great! I’m happy for you, H.” She hummed.

“Thanks, love. What’s up?” 

“Well I was calling because I was wondering if you’d be able to join me for something tonight? I know it’s super last minute, but a colleague of mine is friends with the mayor’s wife and she knows about my aspirations in city government and she thought she might introduce us. It’s just a little fundraiser for a clinic on wheels, cocktail attire is what she said.” Rebecca explained and Harry nibbled on his lip pensively.

“Mmmm, I have to prepare for lecture tomorrow…what time is it at?”

“It’s now. But they she said it’s over at 10pm. My colleague, Joanne, is gonna be there until about 9:30, but she said to come earlier rather than later as Mayor Singh might not be there until that late.” She explained and Harry nodded as he pulled up his calendar for the following day and saw he didn’t have many client’s scheduled the next morning.

“Ummm, yeah I can make it. Tomorrow is pretty slow, I can work on my lecture then. I just need to finish all my client notes right now.” He informed.

“OK, thank you so much, babe! Is half an hour enough time? I can pick you up? I’m just changing and touching up now.”

“Yeah, that’s plenty of time. I’ll see you in a bit. Love you.”

“Love you too, bye.”Rebecca said before hanging up. He let out a deep exhale before rolling his shoulders back and standing to get the scanner on and finish up Celeste’s file.

Harry and Rebecca had been dating for almost two years. When they met, he was on his least couple months of his residency and she was fresh out of law school and working on the legal team for the community mental health center he would do some of his hours at. Every year they did a mandatory training on the procedures in the case of a malpractice suit or of a subpoena. Since they were a community clinic a lot of people that came through were court mandated clients and it wasn’t out of the norm for the court to subpoena the doctors, therapists, or social workers working with that particular client - it was fairly routine. Either way, that is how their paths crossed and she was actually the one who approached him shortly after their first meeting. Rebecca was bold and had big ambitions, this wasn’t something Harry could see himself being entangled with in the long run, but when they started to date she started to slow down and he figured that maybe her goals were changing a bit.

Because Harry was fresh out of med school and had a little more time on his hands, he was eager to jump into anything that wasn’t school related and when Rebecca asked him out he said yes. Rebecca was smart, gorgeous, and very pleasant, what wasn’t to like. He doesn’t think either of them were looking for a serious relationship when they first started out, but all on its own it kind of became serious. Something that worked well for them was that they both were kind of workaholics, they were both ambitious and out their professions first and they both liked that they were of the same mentality because it helped them not to feel so strapped down. He was always more of a loner and he enjoyed his space and she was very much that same way and so things worked and they didn’t mess with it and here they were today. 

Sometimes Harry did wonder if their relationship was normal; what they had was working for them, but in a way there was kind of a distance between them and many of their friends didn’t really get that. He recalls that at one point his best friend, Henry, once said that it seemed that the relationship was just convenient for them and while he took offense and disagreed immediately, Rebecca responded first and asked Henry if it was wrong that a relationship be convenient? And well, after a big fight about that Harry and Rebecca cleared up that it was OK that they were progressing slower than other couples because they had a lot going on personally and that if it worked for them then there was nothing they needed to justify to others. What did worry Harry was that every aspect of life felt like a routine and he knew that while consistency is great, routine could also be damaging to relationships and Harry didn’t want that for them. He did love Rebecca and often worried that the routine they’d been in this entire time would lead to their slow, but certain demise.

The time passed him by quickly between doing his notes and his thoughts and before he even realized it his phone was ringing again with her name lighting up the screen. This meant that she was downstairs, so he quickly shut everything down and he slipped his laptop it into his lockable drawer and rushed out. He popped a piece of gum in his mouth as he rode down the elevator and as soon as he stepped out of the building he waved as he approached the car and then slipped into the passenger seat.

“Hi love. You look nice.” He hummed as he leaned over and kissed her cheek quickly.

“H, I just did my make up…” she sighed as she flipped down the visor to check her make up in the mirror.

“M’sorry.” He said as he switched on the overhead light so that she could see if anything was out of place, “I don’t see any damage.” He assured and she glanced to him and rolled her eyes before leaning over and puckering her lips out and he chuckled as he kissed her quickly on the lips.

“You’re lucky there’s no damage.” She said as she settled back into her spot, “You’ve got lipstick on your lips now though.” She grinned and he huffed and rubbed over them with his palm as he took off. The drive wasn’t all that long and the event seemed to be pretty packed when they arrived. She did a loop around the block and found no parking so they circled around again to the entrance.

“We’re just gonna have to do valet. S’cash only, though. Do you have cash?” Harry asked and she sighed.

“I don’t have cash do you?” She huffed.

“No, sorry.” He sighed, the only cash he had received was Mrs. Beltran’s payment earlier and that was back at the office.

“Fuck, I don’t want to miss the mayor.” She groaned and Harry nibbled on his lip.

“I can find somewhere to park, you go on. I’ll meet you inside, yeah?”

“Are you sure?” Rebecca asked and he was about to respond, but he jumped when he heard some knocks on the window.

“You can’t stop here unless you’re going to park valet!” The man shouted through the glass and Rebecca rolled her eyes.

“Yes, yes! I’m getting off!” She called back in an aggravated tone and Harry chuckled. Rebecca had a rather short fuse, he got it, he did too, and while he was now used to it, it wasn’t something that made her very likable to people who only experienced that part of her. Harry hurried out of the car to get to the driver’s side.

“Sorry, mate. I’m just dropping her off.” He said and the guy just nodded and she rushed past them and towards the entrance as Harry settled into the driver’s seat and took off down the street. He was able to find a parking spot a few streets down in a residential area, luckily no permits were needed and as he locked up the car he opened up his phone to let Rebecca know he was on his way over and he saw a text from her.

Becs:

Hey H, it’s invitation only! Text me when you’re up front!

Harry sighed as he started the walk over and as soon as he got there he texted her letting her know that he was outside and then five minutes passed…then fifteen…he even showed the guy with the list the text and he said he needed her to verify that he was her plus one, even if it were via text. He tried calling and she still didn’t answer and so now he was grumpy and hungry and decided to just go back to the car and pick up something to eat until she decided to check her bloody phone. Unfortunately, he had left his wallet in the office as he left in a rush and all he had was $5 on his apple pay from god knows how long ago and he was able to score himself a burrito which he ate in the car. It had been nearly an hour before Rebecca called him to come up front and so once again, he made the walk over and she was waiting at the steps of the venue.

“I’m so sorry, babe! Joanne was chatting with the mayor and his wife right when I got there and we were able to talk for a while and I couldn’t pull out my phone!” She explained as they made their way inside and despite his irritation he just nodded.

“It’s OK, things happen.” He assured her, “What were you able to talk to him about?” He asked curiously.

“Oh, just some ideas I have when I run for office as a council member.” She said vaguely because she knew that he had no real interest in that and he hummed as they made their way further in. He was able to meet Joanne and her wife, Michelle, they were sweet and nice to talk to and it was around half an hour later when they decided to go out for some drinks and dinner. Harry was still in a sour mood from his multiple walks to and from he car and he had already eaten. Joanne was nice enough to drop them off at their car and Rebecca agreed to meet them at some restaurant before getting out.

“Babe, can you just drop me off at my car? I ate while waiting for you and I’m just not feeling up to staying out tonight. It’s already 9:30.” He said and she sighed as he unlocked the car.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” She said as she opened up her door and then groaned, “H, my car smells like Mexican food.” She whined.

“I’m sorry, love. I was super hungry and there was no garbage can and I wasn’t gonna leave it on the street. I’m sorry.” He said again and she just sighed as she turned on the engine and rolled down the windows.

“It’s fine.” She huffed as she started texting on her phone for a moment before they took off again. The drive back was a bit tense though, despite that when she dropped him off at his office building she kissed his lips quickly and bid him a good night before taking off. Harry was left to wander back upstairs and grab his wallet before he left for the night.

This was why he wondered if their relationship was normal. As a mental health professional, he knew that all relationships looked and functioned differently, but he didn’t feel awful about things with Rebecca. Just now, he was irritated with her and she with him and they just got over it, it wasn’t anything serious that they were irked about, so it didn’t warrant a long conversation, they just needed to grow up and get over it, like they had. And it wasn’t always this way, they hardly ever argued and they did love each other. But sometimes when things like this would happen he wondered whether they were truly just with each other because it was convenient, like Henry had said, and they had both settled for each other because they got on so well and were like-minded. He knew he wanted more of a relationship but he didn’t know if his relationship with Rebecca was capable of that, they hadn’t really talked about it properly. He didn’t feel like it was sometimes and it worried him that he was just wasting her time and his time.

*********

Diana knew it was late, but over dinner she had a lengthy conversation with Celeste about how serious she was in continuing to see Dr. Styles as her therapist and she was very serious about it. She said she felt really comfortable around him because the way he talked to her was similar to her uncle Damian, Diana’s brother. He lived in Mexico, but they visited each other regularly and since Celeste didn’t really grow up with a father figure he was someone that she looked up to a lot. Either way, this prompted her to call his office and she would leave a message about wanting to schedule another appointment. She wasn’t sure why she was so nervous leaving the message, maybe it was how soothing his voice sounded in the greeting, despite him saying that if it was an emergency whoever called should dial 911 - it was the delivery of it that made her feel a little out of sorts.

“Hi Dr. Styles, or ummm Harry, you had said to call you that. I’m sorry it’s late.” She said and then shook her head as she thought to herself ‘that’s the point of voicemails, idiot’, “Anyway, I just wanted to give you some of the times that would work best for Celeste to start treatment. So, Mondays work, but 6pm would be better as my office hours end at 5:30pm. Or Tuesdays and Thursdays also work anywhere from 5 to 7pm, and Fridays after 3pm as well. Just ummm, yeah let me know what works best for you. If none of these work out just let me know and we can figure something out, you can also email me as I’ll be teaching tomorrow and that may be easier for me to check. Thank you for your time today, I appreciated it, have a good night.” She said and pulled the phone away about to hang up and then realized that she hadn’t even said who she was, “Oh, ummm this is Diana Beltran, by the way! Sorry, I forgot to-”

“Your message has been recorded-” the machine cut her off and she groaned, “to play it back press 1, to re-record press 2, to delete your message press 3. If you are finished you may-”

“Ughhh…” she groaned in irritation and hung up, cutting off the monotonous voice from continuing to speak. She wasn’t about to do that again, so she just set her phone down and continued packing up their left over chicken and rice for their lunch the next day.

************

Fresh out of the shower, Harry got in a t-shirt and sweats quickly before hopping into bed. He lived two blocks away from the university campus, so the house he lived in was originally old and small, but with gentrification and all it looked a lot more modern now and the property had been reconfigured to give optimal space, it was rather nice. It had a lot of character, is what he would tell people. Over the pandemic he renovated the bathrooms and re-invigorated the original wood flooring of the home and even now, he continued with his project on updating things just a bit during his free time. Either way, he was happy here and he found it easy to rest in his space. He reached for his phone to just kill some time before he drifted off to bed and as it lit up he saw that he had a voicemail forwarded from the office phone. He always checked just in case he needed to call 911 for a client or something. So he opened up his phone and immediately played the message and brought it up to his ear to listen…

“Hi Dr. Styles, or ummm Harry, you had said to call you that.” The gentle and soothing voice spoke and he immediately smiled as he pictured the person it belonged to, Diana. “I’m sorry it’s late. Anyway, I just wanted to give you some of the times that would work best for Celeste to start treatment. So, Mondays work, but 6pm would be better as my office hours end at 5:30pm. Thursdays also work anywhere from 5 to 7pm, and Fridays after 4:30pm as well. Just ummm, yeah let me know what works best for you. If none of these work out just let me know and we can figure something out, you can also email me as I’ll be teaching tomorrow and that may be easier for me to check. Thank you for your time today, I appreciated it, have a good night.” She finished and he heard a bit of shuffling for a few moments before he heard the last bit, “Oh, ummm this is Diana Beltran, by the way! Sorry, I forgot to-” it suddenly cut off and he chuckled to himself a bit. 

His office phone had a time limit on the messages and he had no idea how to fix that. He was tempted to get out of bed and grab his laptop to look at his calendar to figure out when he could schedule Celeste so that he could return her call first thing in the morning, but he needed to chill out. He wasn’t sure why he was so eager to figure this out for them. Actually he was…she was striking. Absolutely gorgeous. From the moment they met he was drawn to her just because of her looks. But more than that, she was so sweet and clearly smart, and she was amicable and so easygoing, it drew him in. Harry told himself that he was thinking of her because she had left a voicemail and obviously, she was now stuck in his head. And his mind kept bringing back one thought: Someone like her had to be taken. Just then, his phone buzzed in his hand and it was a text from Rebecca apologizing once again for getting upset at him for the food thing and telling him good night. He assured her it was alright and wished her a good night before deciding to just get to sleep. The last thing he needed was to be in shambles and exhausted for his class the following day and more than that, whatever curiosity Harry had towards Diana ended now. Yes, she was beautiful and she seemed like a nice and wonderful woman, but he would be seeing her daughter as his client and entertaining those ideas of her wouldn’t be beneficial to anyone.

*************

After Harry got far too excited over hearing Diana’s voice last night, even if it was over voicemail, he decided that he needed to set up a boundary before he got too invested in her or developed any type of crush on her, as he had decided the night before. Her daughter, Celeste, had chosen to continue seeing him as her therapist and the relationship with her was his priority now. After emailing Diana back about scheduling (instead of calling back), his day went by rather slow. Harry was dedicating a lot of his time to review his lecture material for his class that evening. His class was technically an elective, so he had students who were interested in or leaning towards only providing therapy online. His class was actually a good number, they capped them at 30 for the graduate students and he had 23, so it was good that this topic had cultivated interest. He did have to mentally prepare himself though to be as stoic and neutral as possible because some of the women in his class were not subtle at all. And even thought they were closer in age to him, he was still their professor and the last thing he wanted was to give anyone the wrong impression and get himself into trouble. He wasn’t cocky, but he knew he was a handsome man and he was really nice, so he just wanted to be sure no lines were ever blurred or that a misunderstanding was even remotely possible. That was honestly his biggest stressor; he had been a bit nervous about actually teaching the students and being able to convey information to them, but as soon as he started doing it he felt comfortable and he understood why so many people loved to contribute to the growth of their profession in this manner. 

************

On her busy days, which were Tuesdays and Wednesdays, Diana’s best friend, Grace, would be the one to get Celeste from school. Diana was lecturing non-stop on Tuesdays and only got an hour break before her final class of the day, which started at 6pm. So now, she was rushing down the street to her favorite cafe on campus, Café Flores. It was a little over a 5 minute walk from where she lectured on Tuesdays, but even if it were out of her way, she would always find an excuse to go. Since most students were at dinner, it was slow at the cafe at that time. She would always order the same thing, the guy at the register smiled when he saw her come in.

“Hey, professor.” He said as she walked up, smiling as well.

“Hi Nico, how’s it been?” She asked.

“It’s slowing down.” He said with a smile and she nodded, “What can I get started for you?” He asked.

“I’m gonna do the 20oz today, café con leche.”

“The usual.” He smiled.

“I sized up, OK?” She said and he chuckled.

“And half & half is OK?”

“Always.” She said and he grinned.

“Anything else?” He asked.

“I’m also going to get the avocado toast.”

“With everything?” He asked.

“Ummm, no crema and no onions.” She said and he recited her order before submitting it and taking her payment. The owners of this cafe were originally from Chiapas, Mexico - the opened this place up in the late seventies and as they grew older their children took it over and it’s such a wonderful atmosphere to be in; it reminded her of being back in Mexico. And this spot was so popular that when the neighboring business relocated they bought it as well and that’s more of the study lounge vibe students are looking for. They were just as, if not a little more popular than the Starbucks across campus. It was really amazing to her how well this business had evolved to continue being around for that long.

“Professor Beltran?” She heard kind of from a distance and as she zoned back in and looked away from the little card with the shop’s story she blinked a few times before turning to her left and looking up to see none other than Dr. Styles who was smiling down at her.

“Oh, hello!” She smiled bright and stood immediately, extending her hand to greet him, “What brings you here?” She asked.

“I teach tonight and ummm, the last two weeks I’ve seen most of my students with cups from here and I thought I should check it out.” He said and she nodded.

“It certainly beats Starbucks.” She said and he grinned.

“Oh, perfect.” He hummed and she nodded, “You teach today as well?”

“Yes, I’ve got three classes today.” She explained and he grimaced and she chuckled.

“I know.” She sighed, “But to be fair this last one is an elective on Latin American art & culture so I don’t do as much talking as I do visual aids.” She said and he chuckled.

“That’s good.”

“It it’s a three hour class though, so I am pretty pooped afterwards but you know about that with the graduate students.” She said and he nodded. She remembered. Harry thought to himself.

“Order for Diana!” The girl at the pick-up station called out.

“Excuse me for a second.” She said to Harry.

“Oh, you can go if you need to, no worries.” He assured.

“I was actually going to stay and eat here, I lecture in the building just around the corner and it starts until 6pm. You’re more than welcome to join me if you’d like.” She said and before he could overthink it he nodded.

“That’d be nice, I still don’t know too many people.” He explained and she nodded.

“Yeah, of course.” She assured and hurried off but came back quickly as Harry was settling into the spot across from her and she was settling in.

“Do you want some?” She asked and he shook his head immediately.

“Oh no, I ordered something as well. But please get started.” He assured and she nodded and went for her toast right away. She finished chewing and hummed.

“Always hits the spot. I haven’t eaten since 11:30.” She disclosed.

“Oh god, I would be a proper grouch if I went that long without eating.” He said and she giggled.

“So you get hangry, I see…so does my teenage daughter.” she teased and he chuckled as he shook his head at her little joke.

“I mean, most people do.” He said and she shrugged her shoulders.

“That’s fair.” She responded and he chuckled again.

“You don’t?” He asked her and she shook her head.

“No. Being a parent often means staving off your own needs for your kids, even hunger. I will admit sometimes I forget to eat-”

“You forget to eat?” He asked in shock and she giggled.

“If I’m really busy. It’s usually during the end of the semester, but I don’t think any of my classes will push me to that this quarter.” She said and he nodded.

“Well good.”

“Yes.” She grinned. Then they called his name and he came back with his own order. He just had a regular black coffee and a capirotada - which is essentially a bread pudding.

“Ooh, good choice.” She said and he glanced up to her.

“Oh yeah? He told me it was like bread pudding.”

“It is! They make it really good here, it’s not too sweet or cinnamon-y, it’s just right.” She said and he nodded.

“Oh good!” I just got this because it looks kind of like a dessert from England and I admittedly got a bit nostalgic.” He explained himself and she smiled; she understood that feeling very well.

“Yeah, I get that.” She nodded, “So have you been in the US long?”

“Yeah, I came over for med school, so I’ve been here about…10 years?” He said, “Oh shit.” He then said lowly as the realization struck him and she laughed lightly as she watched it unfold before her.

“Do you miss England?”

“Some things I miss, but I really like it here. It was a fresh start.” He said and she nodded in understanding.

“Yeah, we need those sometimes.” She acknowledged, “But look at you now, your own practice and everything. Even teaching now!” She said veering the topic into a more positive light and he chuckled bashfully as he reached for his coffee.

“Living the dream.” He said and she quirked her face a bit with a confused smile because she did not miss the sardonic tone in his voice.

“You say that like you’re not convinced of it.” She called him out, which surprised him and he shrugged before he decided that he would explain himself to her.

“It’s just like, you work so hard for something…literally dedicate everything you are and all of your time and resources to it to get there and once you do it’s kind of the feeling of like “that’s it”?. Do you know what I mean?” He asked, an existential crisis was close if they were to continue not he topic of him so he had to turn it around and she hummed pensively at his question.

“Kind of… I mean, I hear med school is…horrific.” She said, “Highest suicide rate, no?” and he nodded.

“Well, three times more likely than our peers.” He corrected her and she frowned, it was still alarming. She had friends who had gone to medical school, a few dropped out because it was too intense, so yeah, maybe he was very valid in feeling like all of that made it out bigger than it needed to be.

“So it is horrific.” She said again an the sighed, smiling bit now despite the morbid topic they had just touched on.

“I love learning and I do love school, maybe that’s why I came back to teach… so ummm, I wouldn’t say it was horrific for me, but definitely challenging…and I don’t know, I was just one of those people that were so focused on school and being excellent in that capacity that I didn’t it as much as I could have or made the good kind of memories with the people around me. Like several of the people in my cohort were married over the last couple years and well, I wasn’t invited because, we were classmates but I didn’t take the time to make them my friends. And just little things like that, that I wish I had valued more at the time.” He explained and she hummed with a small frown, “And well now, yes, I have my practice, but having your own business is very time consuming and it makes it hard to have my own life too, you know? I love what I do, trust me, I would’ve never gone through with med school if I didn’t. I would do It for free! But like there are times in which I wish I didn’t have to answer a phone call of a patient in distress in the middle of a date with my girlfriend. Or have a patient go through that angry at my therapist phase and fear I’ll get sued and lose everything.” He chuckled and she did as well.

“Yeah, wow, that is…intense.” She said and he nodded.

“It is and again, I love to do it and I love to help people, but I’m still new at this so I’m just getting the hang of it. I’m sure I’ll be able to find balance with some time, but it does feel like I never will be able to start living my life sometimes.” He expressed, “Do you ever feel that way? Being a mum? Sorry, if that came out weird, Celeste mentioned that you were quite young.” He tagged in and she shook her head.

“It’s alright,” Diana assured him, “and not really… I don’t feel that I missed out on my youth or anything like that. I wasn’t all that social in college anyway.” She explained and he hummed in understanding, “Kind of also threw myself into the work and well, I had a baby, and well it’s not like I was a 16 year old mom, but being 19 with a baby still makes people look at you differently.” She shrugged and Harry frowned slightly upon hearing this.

“People are dicks.” He said and she smiled at his lame attempt to comfort her after what she had shared, but it wasn’t necessary, that had stopped bothering her a long, long time ago, “And Celeste’s dad? You guys were young, how does he feel about that?” He asked and Diana suddenly looked down at her coffee cup before clearing her throat and glancing into his eyes.

“Ummm…h-how’re you liking teaching?” She changed the subject all together, so fast and abruptly that Harry just went along with it, barely even noticing that his previous question had been completely ignored.

“It’s been great! I was dying of nerves beforehand but as soon as I got up there it just felt amazing to know that I could share what I knew like that. It’s made me fall in love with my profession even more.” He admitted and she smiled.

“Yeah, that happens to all the great teachers I know, at least.” She shrugged and he smiled before digging into his capirotada. He moaned in satisfaction at the taste of the dessert.

“OK, that’s phenomenal.” He said after he swallowed down the bite he took.

“Oh yeah, it’s a classic.” She agreed and he hummed.

“I can see why.” He acknowledged. 

They continued to talk a little bit more, though he noticed that after he had brought up Celeste’s dad the topic stayed more at the professional level as she discussed teaching and the university, and curriculum designs. He felt bad for bringing that up, but he was curious as Celeste had talked about her dad, but very briefly and he had meant to ask more questions, but then they progressed to something else in the session and he just wanted to know more about their family unit - maybe she wasn’t married like he initially assumed. Either way, after the reaction she had, he felt like he needed to apologize for it, but it seemed that just changing the topic was enough for her. Just as he was about to ask her something else her phone started ringing and she glanced down to it.

“And that’s my 15 minute timer!” She announced and his eyes widened.

“Already?”

“Yeah.” She giggled, “Time flies when you’re having fun!” She exclaimed and he grinned.

“I guess so. I should probably head out too, I’m lecturing further than you are and I walked too.” He said and she nodded.

“Then yeah, you should.” She agreed as she stuffed the last bite of her toast in her mouth and they both stood to clean up their table a bit and gather their things. “Well, it was nice running into you. I hope your class goes well.” She smiled and he nodded.

“Yeah, yours too.”  He returned her well-wishes and then they both made their way out only to realize that he had fallen a few steps behind her as they were heading in the same direction, “I’m not following you, I swear.” He said and she laughed; she had a pretty laugh. “You’re fine.” She assured him.

“Well, while we’re going in the same direction I guess I have a sort of question about something.” He said hurrying up to match her pace and she nodded, “So in my field, it’s a female-dominant one and ummm, obviously, my class is mostly women, there are 2 or 3 guys in it, but ummm, some of the women are-”

“Oddly friendly?” She grinned up at him in question and he smiled, a cute dimply one that made her heart race in a way it hadn’t in a long time.

“Yeah, ummm, to put it nicely.” He confirmed bashfully, “I just don’t want to accidentally miscommunicate things or give the wrong impression. And I can’t deal with it as a therapist because it’s a different scenario. In therapy we just tend to confront it directly and I don’t know it that’s the best approach here too? I do notice some of them looking at me in certain ways or just being a little flirtatious with me and I don’t know… I just don’t want to mess something up. Is that something you’ve dealt with?” He asked and she nodded.

“Oh yeah, being a young professor comes with unique challenges and ummm, yeah, some of my students have put me in a position like that too and I learned that when you directly confront it they immediately deny it and then make you feel like you’re being a cocky asshole or presumptuous, which also sucks.” She sighed, “H-have you ever had a client do that to you?” She asked and he nodded.

“Once or twice, but I was still a resident and like working in my fellowship at the time so I had a lot more help to navigate that.” He explained and she nodded, “I just got switched to another rotation, it was in a psych ward so it wasn’t like I was the clinician, it was more 51-50 situations, so I was just providing the meds while we were allowed to hold them.” He explained and she nodded.

“OK, so yeah, in this scenario, if they flirt or hint at liking you just act normal, don’t acknowledge the flirtations and advances if they’re very subtle, keep it professional, set the boundary with your response. But if they start to come on stronger or in more obvious  and bold advances, like I once had a student ask me if we could go out after the class was over and I wasn’t his professor anymore. Or if they bring you gifts,” She shared, “then you can be more stern in reminding them of the boundary. I know with graduate students it’s a little different as they are full-fledged adults,” she said, “but if there are students who just seek you out without reason or are just trying to get close to you, obviously try to keep those interactions documented. So if they want to see you try to keep it over email or zoom, document meetings and appointments on your calendar, things like that. We often think that we need to not have any evidence, but paper trails are your best friend if you’re not a sketchy person!” She explained.

“OK, that is the best advice I have ever received.” He smiled and she nodded.

“I came up with that one myself.” She grinned with pride and he chuckled, “Here’s a suggestion, I don’t know if you’ll need it for your courses, but I make a calendar for my office hours for each class and add all of my students to it, they can then book their own appointments, but everyone else who is in the class sees, kind of like a virtual sign-up sheet. In my experience it dissuades those students who are just coming by to “say hi”, as they like to say.” She said and he hummed, “That is time consuming though, so if anything just try not to let them catch you alone, causally bring up you’re in a relationship, stuff like that.” She smiled. 

“OK. Yeah, I just don’t want them to take it too far and I have to do something more serious about it, you know? Like I get having crushes on your teacher, in Med school I had this o-chem professor who was so attractive, I was one of his best students and he was like a genius, he was about my age now and I knew that he kind of liked me too. There was this unspoken tension that we both just…lived with for that entire semester, but he never said anything about it. He just let it be and then after I finished his class he just kind of never spoke to me again. I didn’t take offense to it, I know that once a line like that is crossed it just makes it easier for it to happen again. But it’s hard being a sapiosexual while running in academic circles.” He said with a breathy chuckle and she nodded as she started to slow down.

“Oh definitely, I’m with you on that one!” She giggled in agreement, she was a fellow sapiosexual and knew all about that on her own, “But I think he was smart about how he dealt, your professor.” She said and he nodded, “So yeah, just be nice about it, don’t make the student feel awkward about it if it’s just a crush. And well I’m sure the magic’ll wear off after midterms.” She joked and he laughed as they came to a stop in front of a large lecture hall.

“Most likely.” He chuckled, “This you?” He asked and she nodded.

“Yep! Well, Dr. Styles it was lovely running into you.” She said again.

“Likewise, Professor Beltran. And please, s’just Harry.” He insisted once more and she smiled and nodded.

“Right. Well, I’m just Diana too, so umm yeah. I’ll uh-see you around. Have a good night.” She bid him farewell.

“You too!” He called after her before he continued walking towards his class with his heart racing a bit more than it ought to. But he was walking at a relatively quick speed and he’d just had a plain coffee with an extra espresso shot, so it was likely that his heart was reacting to just that. It was ironic really, the conversation they had just had. He had too many questions for and about her and his interest was piqued after this. All he knew was that the next time he went by the cafe he would be taking his order to-go, he couldn’t sit with her like this again.

-------

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[littlestsnicket]

- lack of poor things gifs… i guess you can’t really gif things until there is better access to digital copies (i am usually late to every piece of media so i forget these things) (bella/toinette gifs when?!? toinette is in like none of the press release shots and it’s very sad)

- would be fun to write poor things meta but not sure if i have anything that interesting to say without rewatching it. (i read something while i was going through the tag about the ending being bad and it brought up some interesting things but ultimately felt quite wrong and missing-the-point to me)

- today really should be a fic writing/research day… it’s not like i don’t think rewatching bits of the witcher would be fun (i do) but i’ve been having a lot of trouble making myself sit down and do it

- i did get the time of contempt audiobook back from the library, not helpful for the very netflix continuity based fic i’m working on, but good for a bunch of other things that are floating around in my head. i probably should just buy these audiobooks but i don’t want to but since i can afford them i feel bad acquiring them less legally

- oh! i did also start watching 1670, it’s really very good, but it will probably take me a very long time to watch. like… it deserves the level of attention of a sitcom (that’s not at all a criticism) but i have to be paying way more attention than that to read the subtitles, so i have to be in a very specific mood to do that. i recommend it though (at least based on the first three episodes) (the daughter’s climate change stuff is especially good)

[basedkikuenjoyer]

Kishotenketsu & You, Part 2

Did I make this entirely for the title rhyme? No, but it was a factor. Because I’m in the refreshing mood, this is worth a post as well. We’re getting back to some anime fun next few days. Got Jojolands, and the OP Academy panels coming up. Kishotenketsu...naturally you can’t have a part 2 without a first so why write the same things twice? If you don’t want a second essay, it’s a four part story structure with mega deep roots in Asian writing. The Act structure, it works for that and Kiku/Yamato share names with their respective parts. Leaving off with the play wrapping up, the Rakugo narrator...that’s arguably leaving with only three out of four parts completed. Which is no problem! The next island serving as the final is just on brand. One Piece just does use this structure like this, but Wano does use its theatrical themes to be a little meta. It’s lowkey very similar in function to a school play as a penultimate saga in a slice-of-life series. Falls under the wonderfully weird umbrella of “pulling an Utena” as well.

So what are we doing today? Looking at how the structure applies to individual Acts of Wano then ruminating on just how well it does to Egghead at this juncture. So for a reminder, try it for yourself and compare: Part 1 is an introduction. Part 2 develops. Part 3 subverts. Part 4 draws out the point through the way 3 ultimately tied back to 1 all along.

Act 1: 

Ki - Curtains open through Hawkins’s tarot game and the Crane Returns a Favor re-enactment. 

Sho - Okobore, Bakura, back to Okobore & up to Oden Castle.

Ten - Kiku & Kin know each other? The Yama or big climax being the samurai leaping forward in time. Different tone because now we’re back to our main plot that was already established.

Ketsu - Luffy isn’t ready to fight Kaido, he jeopardized the plan by not waiting for the right time.

Act 2:

Ki - Curtains open through the first “wheel” of pairing off Straw Hats and local buddies.

Sho - Those wider Wano stories fleshing out. Yasu’s execution will be the climax of this and it’ll wrap up as the story focuses more on Udon.

Ten - The capture of Udon, an unplanned detour. The big twist here would actually be learning Kiku’s little secret at the climax. 

Ketsu - Wrapping up reaping the benefits of all these stories. Enma, the added reinforcements from Udon, etc.

Act 3:

Ki -Curtains open through the flashback. Easy peasy.

Sho - Kanjuro the Traitor and getting in position. Meeting Yamato. Akazaya v. Kaido. All the way up to around when Luffy/Kiku fall.

Ten - Subtle but we do shift from here into the full mainline shonen part of the arc. Wrapping up fights. The Yama is Luffy’s awakening.

Kestu - The short after the battle segment until the curtains close.

Egghead:

Now, Egghead probably won’t be as long as Wano so Act 2 is probably our best comparison. It’s longer than Zou but doesn’t feel like it has enough steam to stretch past a Punk Hazard or a Fishman Island. And obviously it’s hard to do this with a still-unfolding arc. Still, I feel like we see an existing trick. Act 1, Kiku’s introduction is bounded by mirrored chapter titles. [The Crane/Luffytaro] Returns the Favor. Egghead? [Luffy’s/The Genius’s] Dream. I don’t think that perfectly marks ki giving way to sho, but it’s somewhere around there. We’ll get more entrenched in the battle, the cutaway stories mature but they don’t dominate like we see right now. Wherever sho starts, it ends with 1078 as we’ll pull away revealing the traitor. 

Like we said yesterday, what remains to be seen is the nature of this extended break from our main cast. Six chapters is a lot already and I feel like we have at least two more. One more for Sabo’s story and Vivi/Marco’s groups still lack an update. Maybe we could do all that in one? Marco sorta has a precedent for playing us in so yeah I guess you could say...tie off Sabo’s in one while also showing how Vivi got up in the sky with Wapol (Hey, isn’t that thematically a little like starting her adventure like the next step of the crew’s without her?) and then 1086 starts with Marco leading back into Egghead. That’s theoretically all you’d need. But it could go longer, and we stay away for another round of Tales from the New World that spiral into all being shaped by the Incident at Egghead Island.

[voicefromthecorner]

Something that occurred to me about the situation Rindo’s in is that Haz is an Angel. So like. He’s gotta know stuff.

To put it in slightly less layman terms, Haz must be really freakin’ smart and have the inside info on everything that’s going down here. Whatever there is to say about the Angels, Haz strikes me as a fair guy and I’m gonna take the leap and trust that instinct. So what I’m getting at is that I don’t believe Haz would have given Rindo the choice to go back if he was faced with a no-win scenario upon doing so. I don’t think he would put Rindo in a position of false hope and inevitable annihilation like that when he didn’t have to.

I could be surprised, I suppose, but narratively speaking from that dratted meta-perspective, I doubt it would make much sense for Rindo to go to every length possible today and then fail anyway because it was always impossible. Not a third time in a row, at least.

So there must be a way to succeed that Haz knows exists, given that the threat wasn’t feasible to face before and has been multiplied since then. The Rhyme solution is one that’s been staring us in the face since the first time through this day, but there must be more to solve about today that Rindo hasn’t even considered.

I’m speculating here, but it seems likely. It’ll be interesting to see how we end up working around these odds. I’m definitely not in the mood to watch everyone die again plus Rhyme and Kaie, thank you very much!

[kinetic-elaboration]

August 18: Cafe; Walk

I think I’ve reached a new level of drop-dead tired. I went to get my customary Friday-afternoon coffee after work, and then after that B and I met up and took his dog on a walk around the campus area and so on. It was nice but I got so little sleep last night and I’m so tired and I’m so… the energy that I need to replenish in solitude in my introverted way has totally run out and then some, emergency lights on. I was going to go to the DMV tomorrow. I was going to go to the DMV just by myself and then B suggested we hang out on Saturday and offered to go with me to the DMV, and then today he asked to hang out, because he had totally forgotten about tomorrow, as he does. So now he’s like semi-backing out because he needs to do stuff to prepare to go back to work. WHICH, like, I totally get. I mean I’m not that keen to hang out more myself, mostly because as I said, I need some Me Time. I just don’t know when I’ll see him again because he’s going to be so busy with the school year soon, so I was willing to rearrange plans. Now, though, I’m…. rethinking everything. I don’t know if I’m up for the DMV. The thing is… I have spent the last couple weekends in my apartment and it would probably be a good idea to go out again. And I need to get my license renewed, so that would be 2 birds etc. But I feel right now like there’s a real argument to be made for staying in. I have stuff I need to do around the apartment, and I am way, WAY, behind on my writing, and I think resting and being creative would be good for me, better than dragging myself around on errands. Also my feet hurt really bad. Partly from the walking but honestly mostly from stress.

I know I do this to myself so this isn’t really a complaint but less than 5 hours sleep, I think, then a full day of work that I’m already hazy on, honestly about 2 hours at the café (because I arrived earlier and stayed later than usual) and an hour plus walk… I’m also starting to overthink literally everything I said to B and all the stuff we talked about. We’re old enough friends now that I don’t do that often so I think that I’m in this mood is a sign that I’m just… completely wrung out, left washed up on the shore.

I’ll see how I feel tomorrow. I realize all of this is just my trying to justify putting off the DMV.

I just looked up the hours. They close at noon on Saturday. So. I think that’s a no lmao. I mean like I could do that, it’s not literally impossible, but I would have to make an effort to get up, get ready, and get out early; I can’t just mosey in at some point in the afternoon when I feel up to it. I’ll need to prepare better. Alternately, take an hour or two off work in the afternoon and do it then, a thought that had previously crossed my mind and which is VERY tempting. Something to think about. Totally closed on Sunday so that’s that on that.

I think… I need to sleep, FIRST off. Still a little uncertain about the rest of the weekend but I know I want/need to write, that’s the first priority, and we’ll see how the rest of it goes. During my café time I didn’t do any useful sort of fic planning, because I didn’t have my regular notebook and I didn’t want useful notes to get lost, so I just did this sort of fantastical meta planning about stuff I could write/post for Halloween. It’s a tempting thought.

(Troped Timeloop first though.)

[taocrafttarot]

Please think of me if you ever want a private Tarot reading. Sage Sips' free Tarot content is fueled by private readings, memberships, and coffee (real and virtual.) Any likes, blog follows, social media follows, shares, or comments you can spare all help too! Thanks!

Well, this is interesting.

I've been doing these weekly readings for what, a couple of months now? I'd hoped this would happen, but this is the first time that a previous "growing energy" has moved through to be a "fading energy" card. That process alone is giving the Four of Swords special attention. It may be "fading" but honestly it feels more like "getting ready to maybe fade" The Four of Swords is still very much a prominent energy today, even if it isn't the ONLY energy today by any means.

I'll claim it. It's a mood.

The Four of Swords is a big energy for me right now. It was a long week at the day job and I'm glad for the holiday today. More on that later, probably on Sage's Other Words. I'm feeling my introverted, INTP aesthetic, cyberpunk, goth-ish side for some reason. Maybe pure rebellion to all of the sunny, hot weather we've had lately. I dunno.

Wherever the Four of Swords is falling into your personal energy arc - growing, strongly present, fading away, or maybe not there at all - it feels like it is asking for our attention just by virtue of showing up two weeks in a row from two different decks. This week I used the public domain Waite Smith, last week I used the Alleyman's Tarot. The four of swords look almost opposite in the two decks, but both bark up the same tree: mind, intellect, thinking, introspection, all of the rest and abide with your thoughts and feelings sort of thing. Last week the card was asking us to engage with deep thoughts, to contemplate, to contemplate contemplation if you want to get really meta about it.

This week it is more of a think things through before you act kind of vibe. The word "ABIDE" is coming to mind here. Think the thoughts and feel the feels for a little bit before jumping into action.

The two of swords typically means indecision, being of two minds about something. I've always resonated with another, less known, interpretation from Diane Morgan's excellent Tarot book Magical Tarot, Mystical Tao. No mystery why that is my favorite Tarot read ever, since it lands square in the middle of my personal wheelhouse, that liminal, Venn diagram overlap between western witchy Tarot and exoteric Taoism (meaning I follow the spiritual philosophy, not the religion)

Her interpretation is one of spiritual connection to the cosmos. The interconnectedness of everything. Oneness. Or as she put it "mystical unity" found in life. Think of the universality of the energy and the connection to the spirit and energy we talk about in Tarot. I think that is where the Two of Swords is pointing today. That connection to everything, that sense of cosmos, is a very internal, subjective, contemplative thing. If the two of swords in "mystic unity" mode is the current energy, it makes sense that the Four of Swords still seems strong  because the two energies are closely related and it makes sense that the two cards would work in tandem to pull our attention to our internal world.

But in typical squirrel rave, strip your gears, 90 degree Tron-turn fashion, life switches from strongly internal to strongly external. We drop the airy, mental, esoteric swords cards right into the action side of swords and the earth element physical realm pentacles. Swords can also be associated with action (like the knight, for example) so the swords are also acting as a bridge from internal focus to real-world focus.

Even though they are nearly opposites, we begin and end with fours. I'll let you figure out the numerology of that if numerology resonates with you. My instinct is to give a shoutout to all the April birthdays out there. A diamond ring and a sparkly, rainbow-y crystal suncatcher sort of crystal window decoration comes to mind here.

With the Four of Pentacles I get "eco-warrior" "ruthless conservation" but not on a political level...it feels very personal level. I connect it with looming potential drought. Save water. Water is life. Mind your budget and your resources. Instead of hunkering down to survive a harsh winter it feels like being disciplined in order to survive a harsh summer. Dune, both the book and movie, and the discipline of the Freman people need to survive in the desert comes to mind here. If you haven't read the books, they are classic science fiction. I totally recommend them for a satisfying pool or beach read this summer.

But that's the vibe on the horizon as it stands now. Mind your budget, conserve water and energy. Hopefully this is a good sign that the collective is gearing up for Plastic Free July both the Australian non-profit AND the just plain concept of reducing your single use plastics. I have it on good authority, that the blog How to Holistic will be talking more about that sort of thing in the near future.

Long story short: contemplate, connect, do

Thanks so much for reading! Next up, more oracle dice on Wednesday if all goes to plan.

See you at the next sip!

[twenytwenytwo]

Oct 8 2022 (10:15am)

So after yesterday’s longish entry about whatever, I felt a nice weight come off me. It seems that philosophization is also effective as a sort of positive thinking. Not surprising, in actuality.

The rest of the day was much more relaxed. By the evening I had transitioned into full on fun Adrian, and was in a very positive mood. The relief added an extra sense of energetic celebration, I was crackin jokes and not irritable at all. I slept decently 10-3:30, then to 5ish, 6:30ish, then to 8ish, as I had a little extra lazy in me.

This morning I had the now terrestrial swells of body anxiety, this buzzing I can feel in the back of my head, arms, thighs, and stomach. It doesn’t feel that vile, I could almost mistake it for stage fright or some more pedestrian type of nervousness. If I let it swell, it’ll go away, but it starts to get kinda like… okay… I get it, at which point I get outta bed and the periodic buzzing tension stops.

It doesn’t inspire any particular thoughts, it doesn’t really feel like it’s “about” anything. If anything it’s about how I’m going to feel today, or something general and uninteresting. The buzzing feeling itself does create (or is a product of) a general tension in me that I feel like can lens itself well to generating classic anxiety. Like anxiety about anxiety, that makes my mind search for something that it doesn’t like, and then fixate on it, thus creating anxiety. Somewhat obsessive compulsive, but only sometimes.

I fixate on things, concepts, pertaining to my life that I don’t like, and feel like I can’t change, therefore I’m stuck with the potential feelings of anxiety they can create, if I basically want them to. If I feel a little on edge (say this morning) and understand I need to change my mind space, but also that this thought or that thought could make me feel more negative, they kinda pop up like “hey how about this?”. The process that starts afterward is trying to make the thought not inspire anxiety (the feeling is in the top of my head, i think?) by like… I try to anxiously think about it until it doesn’t inspire anxiety.

These thoughts (having stolen, izzy and I, etc) don’t inspire anxiety unless I am anxious or a little worried about being anxious. They’ve come to mind during times when I’m not on edge and they don’t feel like anything other than things that, yeah aren’t my favourite, but they don’t snap me from my fully relaxed mood into a anxious mood. When I’m fully relaxed, I literally don’t care, and my mind wanders to something more interesting without any trouble, ever. They’re always like puppets of my meta-anxiety searching for something to be anxious about, and can’t find anything immediately, so it queues up stuff it could be anxious about if viewed through an purely anxious lens.

This process also relieves me of trying to think positively, something that despite how much I’ve enthusiastically talked about, still can struggle with. I feel like I don’t want to be that responsible for my good mood, I want it to happen to me, so to speak, so I don’t have to hold onto it, and worry about it. If it’s not mine, I’m not responsible for maintaining it, or worrying about it. I feel like when I try to think positively, I’m worried about my mood instead lol, so it has a inverse feeling BUT that only cause I’m literally NOT thinking positively. Just flat out not doing it.

This complex can be resolved by acknowledging (again) that these “happy thoughts” aren’t the mood. They’re poking at the mood to wake it up, they’re leaning the spout of energy away from the negative (that the worrying and body anxiety moved it towards) and toward the positive to prime it, and get it going, and create a habit of thinking positive. A chain reaction, a feedback loop.

So yeah, just kinda edgy so far today. In a subtle state of anticipation, wanting things to be good and for me to have nothing to think about anxiously, basically. This is impossible, obviously, but that’s how it feels.

[xerox-candybar]

Hello!! 😊

I noticed you are interested in Garou's parents from an ask you answered where his dad pays to the dojo and his mom is more or less like an esper where she can feel when Garou is doing something stupid.

And I was wondering if you have more headcanons about his parents?

It is actually kind of rare to find anyone with any kind of interest about his family since they are barely mentionated in the manga (his dad) and Bang became more like his grandpa since he started to train with him.

Sometimes I wonder if those 2 ever wonder:

"Where the heck is my brat?"

Just to find out that he is either hunting heroes or saving a whole town from an erupting volcano. 😅

Good evening, dear mutual, and thank you for dropping an ask about my writing! <3 You reached out over the weekend, but I wasn't able to get to the ask right away... which ended up being fortuitous because the latest chapter gave us some tasty, tasty breadcrumbs about Garou's home life. I’m going to try to keep this answer spoiler free but, like much of the fandom, I didn’t get much sleep last night lately, so if you haven’t indulged in the chapter yet, you may want to wait a few days.

So, you asked about my OC’s, Hiroki and Risa, who appear in some of my stories. Although I initially used the word ‘headcanon’ but they feel a bit heavier than headcanons at this point, because I’ve crafted these characters in service of my own plot. I’ve posted excerpts from that WIP here and here. I also published a short fic about Garou and Risa (“scars”), which you can read on ao3. Since then, I’ve moved much of my OPM-content over to my sideblog, Scary-Senpai, so future excerpts/etc will be posted there, along with my usual meta. Garou’s dad will also show up very briefly in Collateral Damage, but probably a bonus chapter--Collateral Damage is mostly about Garou’s time at the dojo, and his relationship with Bang. So memories of his dad appear mostly for contrast, to illustrate what Garou seeks and why he is seeking it. 

Even though these are original characters, there is plentiful psychology / storytelling technique meta that does directly relate to textual observations, so I hope y’all will join me for this bittersweet ride. 

I often think about Garou’s parents and how family dynamics may have impacted his canon behavior. All my fic ideas are lovingly constructed from canon clues, and even if it isn’t canon compliant, I like to think it is always canon complicit--the spirit of the story is the same, even when the details vary. For example, I’ve never written Garou’s mother as unkind, but I have written her as burned out and exhausted--and because she is so innately compassionate, the contrast in mood is incredibly jarring, especially for a sensitive kid like Garou. This is what “scars” is about, essentially--Garou, even at five years old, is determined to grow up to be as big and strong as possible, as quickly as possible, even if it means hurting himself. In the story, Garou gets scratched while trying to pet the neighbor’s cat:

“I keep telling you,” she repeated, turning the tap on. “Momo doesn’t like it when you pet her.”

Also false. The cat always approached him, taking caresses from his hand or winding herself across his legs, tickling him.

Today, she had been very friendly (purring, even!) until she suddenly wasn’t. He hadn’t quite cracked her strange temperament yet, but he would. In the interim, though, these things would happen. He was at peace with these little casualties.

I bolded this because Risa is very much not at peace with Garou hurting himself. She doesn’t like being a bystander to his reckless behavior, especially as he gets older and the situations get more severe--it’s one thing to get into playful scraps because you don’t know any better, it’s another to seek out violence when the world is painful enough. When I think of Risa, I think of the poem “good bones” by Maggie Smith--which I didn’t include in full here, because it mentions child death, but here’s an excerpt:

Life is short and the world is at least half terrible, and for every kind stranger, there is one who would break you, though I keep this from my children. I am trying to sell them the world.

You can read the full poem here: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/89897/good-bones

Anyway, Risa’s ennui encapsulates the same existential angst that Garou feels, even as a kid. Maybe it’s genetic because clinical depression certainly is. Risa’s attempts to navigate Garou’s emotions force him to think about things he’d rather bottle up and/or bypass, and that gets on his nerves. Again, even at five. This is from “scars”:

He hated everything—the pet names, her tone of voice, the necessity of help. It felt so patronizing—as if she wasn’t addressing him so much as the years between them, that vast expanse of lived experience that kept them separate, all the things he couldn’t know.

He didn’t like to feel dumb. He wasn’t dumb. That was all.

So, Garou doesn’t experience his mother’s actions as helpful--he finds her annoying, intrusive, perhaps even insensitive. Shouldn’t she be proud of him for getting stronger? That’s what Garou’s dad wants for him (which is, coincidentally, a constant source of tension between Hiroki and Risa). Going back to “scars,” Garou is so proud of himself for getting hurt but not crying, and Risa just finds his stoic reaction incredibly tragic. It worries and upsets her:

Garou looked up at his mother and saw that her cheeks were wet. He found himself furious at her for crying.

He had done everything right, hadn’t he? He wasn’t even making a fuss. He’d even kept his shirt clean. And yet here she was, tearing up, when he was doing his best to put on a brave face.

All Risa is thinking is: baby, you are five years old. You are allowed to cry. (Surprise surprise, Garou’s father thinks differently). Later, though, Garou comes to regret his harshness towards his mother.

He understands it now, being older, something he hadn’t believed at the time: it is possible to be angry for a child, on behalf of a child, and this is not the same as being mad at them, or because of them. For everything that’s coming, for all the pain that’s as good as promised, and the inevitability of wounds that will not heal. His mother had wanted to protect him, that was all. Even though she knew as well as anyone that this notion of “youthful innocence” simply wasn’t true—not in her day, not in his, and perhaps not ever. Children will see what they see.

Anyway, the OPM-verse abounds with tragic misunderstandings and sincere attempts to help that backfire stupendously, and I’ve always imagined Garou’s relationship with his parents as a continuation of that motif. Consider the type of relationship he seems to have sought out with Bang: Garou has a very specific attachment style--he prefers the sort of closeness that gives the illusion of distance, and this seems to make him feel safe.

Garou runs away hoping that someone will come after him, and he seems to ache for compliments he can boisterously refute, and for helping hands he can make a great show of refusing. He doesn’t always respond well to direct and obvious displays of affection.

Just some food for thought as we consider his interactions with loved ones.

In my longfic, Garou is from the same village as Genos an orphan--so his parents aren’t in his life, but that isn’t by choice. He narrowly survives the tragic accident that killed Hiroki and Risa, but Garou never actually confirms what happened to them. “My  parents are alive but I’m dead to them” is a much more palatable narrative than “my parents died mad at me and I can’t fix it,” and he is not interested in getting corrected, why Bang is vague on the details--Garou doesn’t tell him anything. Bang just assumed that Garou had a falling-out with his family; a lot of kids do at that age. I sometimes think maybe Bang also went years without speaking to his parents, possibly decades. In any case, Bang might jump to the conclusion that Garou’s mom is not a nice person, or project his own issues on her.

In any case, I’ve become very attached to Hiroki and Risa, and I’m grateful for this ask because I can imagine an AU where they survive. I think at this time in Garou’s life, the same situation plays out differently -- Garou’s parents care about him a lot, and they’re never not thinking about him, and if they’re absent from his life right now, it’s not by choice--it’s likely because he pushed them away. It strikes me that when  Cosmic Garou’s first response to Tareo’s fate is, “I got too close, and now--”

Garou is, for all his bluster, fairly insightful. He knows what he’s like, and how he gets, and how much he can (and cannot) control. This is why he seeks isolation, or so it’s always seemed to me. 

Additionally, “deeply flawed people trying very hard and still failing” is a much richer narrative than “deeply flawed people who are resoundingly absent” (in my opinion, your mileage is welcome to vary! that’s what makes fandom beautiful and fun). But in my imagination, Hiroki tries to fix his family so hard that he inadvertently breaks it; Risa tries so hard to be forgiving/accepting/compassionate that she burns herself out and enables manipulative behavior, and in this way, the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

As I mentioned previously, we tend to see the world as we are, rather than how it actually is, which hinders our ability to improve it. Garou’s parents are trying to be the person they need (or think they need), rather than the person their child needs (or thinks he needs), and if that wasn’t enough, all these ideals often find themselves at odds with one another.

Hiroki thinks Garou needs to get stronger; what Garou needs is a sensitive male role model to show that kindness, emotion, etc aren’t the same as weakness. But Hiroki isn’t strong, he’s just playing at it--which Garou picks up on, and ultimately drives him to Bang. Both Garou and Hiroki express fear/sadness/anxiety as anger, because that’s what feels more acceptable & palatable to them. Risa is forever trying to mediate between them, when she needs to encourage boundary setting.

To make matters worse, their family situation is complicated: Hiroki and Risa, were very, very young when Garou was born (18/19), and this was much, much earlier than they ever expected to get married, let alone have kids. They don’t regret having Garou, but it does change their lives a bit: Garou’s mom doesn’t finish high school, his dad drops out of college. This is what would have happened, I think, even if Garou hadn’t been born, but Garou perceives this as his fault. Which is a shame, because I think Hiroki loves kids and, because of Garou, discovers the one thing he wanted in life was to be a dad.

Hiroki likes anything Garou likes. This includes bugs, martial arts, cartoons and Christmas werewolves. I have a very fierce headcanon that Garou wants to make Christmas werewolves a thing again. Hiroki always puts up the Christmas werewolves, whether or not Garou is there with him.

So, to answer your question, “how would Garou’s parents react to seeing him on TV?” Ah, well, depends--I don’t think Hiroki would recognize him physically in monster form (although maybe Cosmic Garou, from the posture), but he knows what Fist of Flowing Water Crushed Rock looks like, and (more importantly) he knows what it looks like when Garou uses it, and he also his son has been in a Monster Phase for 10+ years, so he’s got a pretty good hunch about what’s happening.

If Garou got a job at the Hero Association, I think Hiroki would be proud of him and unilaterally supportive. I also think he’d have a hard time knowing how to respond if Garou has trouble adjusting to his new role as seemed to have been foreshadowed. I imagine the conversation would go something like, “hey, kiddo, do you want me to point out that I know you know you are struggling? or do you want me to smile and nod and pretend that everything’s fine? because I can do that! that is also my default. I could also yell at the secretary for you, would that help?”

...In a worst case scenario, Hiroki and Garou haven’t fully reconciled and gotten over their rough patch, Hiroki figures Garou doesn’t want to see him and Garou assumes the same--even if it isn’t true. Hiroki stays supportive from the shadows-- if Garou’s got Hero merch, Hiroki will buy it. He won’t buy a whole shipment of shoddy key-chains, as Genos does for Saitama, but he’s got a few sensible pieces that he casually shows off.

... which means that Garou ends up in the public eye, this is probably what circumspectly causes them to reconcile, because Hiroki can’t shut up about him. When Hiroki meets people, Garou is the first thing he talks about--even if it’s unrelated. “I have a keychain with my son on it,” Hiroki mentions offhandedly, smiling a little. “Ain’t the world a weird fucking place? Putting people’s faces on coffee mugs...” Which prompts whomever to ask, “oh, what does your son do? Is he a movie star? He’s very handsome.” “No, he’s a hero...”

So, cut to Garou, who will occasionally run into people who have also met his dad. “Oh, you’re Hiroki’s son,” they say. “He talks about you constantly.” at which point, Garou responds, “uhh... sorry, he does what now? he talks... to people? sorry, I think you got the wrong guy, my dad is kind of an ass.” but by the fifth or sixth time this happens, Garou works up the courage to ask a follow-up question (”so... when he talks about me, what does he say?”), and he’s pleasantly surprised (but disproportionately anxious) to find it’s all good things. Perceptive people will hint, “your dad seems to really miss you.” But it takes Saitama flat out chasing Garou down and shaking him. "Call your goddamn dad!” Saitama shouts. “He’s miserable. And for the last time, stop breaking into my house to pet my dog.”

As for Risa, she’s just glad Garou’s alive. As I mentioned, she’s a bit of an esper--but because she never cultivates her sixth sense, her telepathy only activates under duress (like slowing Garou’s descent if he falls out of a tree, or steadying his bike if he hits a pothole), and her premonitions are vague and fuzzy.

Speaking of premonitions, she’s had this sinking sensation that she would “lose her son” before he reaches adolescence--specifically, at whatever age Garou eventually leaves home to train full time (in my fic he’s 10/11, in canon he’s probably more like 13/14), she tries to imagine their future lives at that point and and she just gets a...black spot. A furious and painful absence. She’s terrified that this means that Garou is going to die, and that she’ll outlive him. So she’s actually a bit relieved to know he’s just leaving home and maybe also having an ego death, which is fine.

She calls Garou regularly while he’s at the dojo. On a bad day, Garou is completely drained and doesn’t have the energy to pick up. Also, questions like, “how are you?” / “how’s it going?” terrify Garou, because the answer is almost always “It’s going poorly, I feel like shit and I don’t know why.” If he tries to articulate this, his feelings of sadness always manifest as sass and frustration, which understandably upset Risa, which in turn annoys Garou, and the conversation spirals out of control.

...Even so, Garou is always reassured when Risa calls (even when he doesn’t pick up). Risa senses that he’s on the other line, watching the phone ring without the intention to answer--and if she texts, he always leaves her on ‘read’--and all this really, really hurts her. She stops calling as much. This hurts Garou. He doesn’t say anything. It’s all very sad.

Shortly after Garou moves out, Risa dreams about Bang. Even though she’s never met him in person, or seen current pictures (the ones in circulation are several decades old, that’s on purpose), her visualization is strikingly accurate. “I made a mistake,” she tells him. “I need my son back.” “I see,” Bang says, thoughtfully rubbing his moustache. “If I return him now, you might actually lose him. Are you willing to wait eight years?” (or, again, however many years he spends training). She thinks for a moment and decides this is acceptable. They shake hands as Bang reassures her, “When he is ready, he’ll find a way of telling you. Please don’t take offense, everyone is insufferable at that age. Trust an old man who knows.” 

Anyway, one morning she gets a feeling that she should treat herself to breakfast at a diner, the one with a television, even though she can’t normally concentrate with the news running in the background. She recognizes Garou right away, even in monster form. Tatsumaki’s attack takes down several cell phone towers, nobody’s at the dojo, and public transit is an absolute shit-show, so she can’t reach him immediately. Garou’s dad would probably bike or hitchhike or just fucking walk, but at this point he’s still the wrong kind of stubborn. In any case, this delay allows some time for news to trickle in--specifically, Garou’s job offer.

Risa is happy for Garous’ new career, but not thrilled. He’s only 18, and she still wants him to be a kid. He’s already been through so much, and had to grow up so fast. She hints that he might want to consider taking a year off or so, which he balks at. She lets him be.

In my fic, there are grassroots groups taking a preventative (and nonviolent) approach to monsters and mysterious creatures, and Risa would be actively involved with them. She’d want more for Garou than being a hero--arguing that his real strength is his kindness and intelligence, and given his experience, he has what it takes to cut the problem off at the root (since it’s implied monsterization is at least a bit of a public health/environmental health issue), but she doesn’t push it.

Essentially, Risa is like a hippie parent whose child goes to work for a hip/prestigious “socially conscious” consulting firm. My themesong for her is “wondering where the lions are.” She’s cautiously optimistic of the HA but also suspicious. Even a mission driven company is still a company, she reminds him. At the end of the day, you’re a cog to them and you need to look out for yourself.

In the past, I described Risa as weak but as I sit with her, I don’t think that’s true. She’s actually the strongest one in the family (because she’s the one quietly holding the universe together), and she also grows the most. She learns to set firm boundaries. I joke that Garou specifically mentions “free advice” to Tareo because if he doesn’t like you, he will invoice you for his thoughts. That is actually something Risa starts to do--the older she gets, the more she runs out of fucks, and if work keeps her up at night or detracts from Me-Time / Family-Time, you bet your ass those are billable hours.

I really like seeing Risa get bolder and sassier as she gets older, and I think this directness is something that Garou more willingly responds to...I also suspect she learned it from him. 

When I think of Risa, I think of a quote from Swami Satchidananda: if you have to be selfish about anything, be selfish about your inner peace. (This comes from his translation of Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras). So, Risa is selfish in a way that women (particularly mothers) aren’t allowed to be...and I think this causes some tension with Hiroki, not because he expects a Stepford wife, but because he has a very specific visual of what success looks like, and he can’t articulate it well. Risa, like Garou, incorrigibly questions rules and authority, so when Hiroki insists “Everyone is home for dinner at 6pm because I said so,” they don’t respond well. “We should spend time together every day because you’re important to me,” would go over better, but Hiroki can’t say that yet. He ends up begrudgingly doing most of the housework.

There are dishes in the sink because fuck it, Risa needs a nice long bath so that she can think up a bedtime story for Garou, one that is exactly the right amount of scary so he’ll be interested but not awake all night. They’re just pots and pans--it’s not like he’s going to bed hungry or anything. Also--dinner hacks that result in less cooking? Risa is here for it. “What’s the point of being an adult if I can’t add Nutella and Wonderbread to my charcuterie? I don’t feel like cooking and I am certainly not making a second dinner for my toddler, because I need all my energy for Date Night.” You know, she’s trying to put more energy into being fun: “Yes, I packed macaroni and cheese for lunch again but this time it’s blue and that, my love, is called winning. WHIMSY IS WHAT GROWING UP IS ABOUT, GODDAMMIT--you get to make your own rules now which is why we’ve had pancakes for dinner every night this week.” She’s trying so hard, you guys.

So maybe you can see how Garou’s so-called “whimsical kindness” (which iirc are the words Murata used for him) might a manifestation of two contrasting parenting styles but also probably mood swings.

[purrincess-chat]

I've had this discussion before with friends, but I wanted to delve into it more. In a meta mood today I guess, but I've been thinking while watching s4 (well, I've thought it for a while but it's glaringly obvious in s4), but ML has a huge pacing problem.

I know that s1 was more or less a pilot season. It introduced the concept and dynamics of the show, and they weren't exactly sure if it would get its feet off the ground yet, but seasons 2-4 so far have just had a lot of pacing issues.

And I'm going to preface this by saying that everyone who can't understand the difference between critical discussion and salt, feel free to leave. I don't care if you think the show is perfect the way it is. Go do that somewhere else. People can and should be able to look at the media they consume critically. It doesn't mean it's bad or that they hate it. They just fundamentally understand that it is flawed, and enjoy discussing the plot and its flaws on a deeper level. Refusing to see flaws where they exist isn't the positive power move you think it is.

Anyway, back to the pacing issues.

S2 and s3 had barely any plot. The plot we did get was trickled in. Crumbs. Now we got to s4 and Thomas has declared that every episode will have Chat Blanc levels of bombshells dropped as if that's a good thing. Don't get me wrong, s4 has been better than prior seasons, but I still leave every episode feeling like they rushed to cram in too much.

We all know how I feel about the love rivals, and setting aside personal feelings, the rivals from a writing standpoint were not necessary. At least not functioning as love rivals. Introduce Luka and Kagami, sure, but from a storytelling standpoint the purpose they served in s2 and 3 was just to be a cheap distraction. And they didn't have to be.

The big draw of this show is the love square and its subversion of the love triangle. Now people argue that it's realistic to explore other options before getting together, and while that might be true of real life, that isn't in line with the genre/style of this show. It wasn't a needed lesson, so to speak. They drew us in with the promise to subvert a specific trope in an interesting way, then immediately dragged out that very trope. And not even for any big reason. They just needed an excuse to keep the endgame ship split. And as we can see with how swiftly they dropped the rivals when they were no longer "necessary" as distractions, the writers were always using them as an excuse not to put the square together earlier. They knew the square's chemistry was too good and fans were going to be foaming at the mouth by s3 if they didn't do something. Then the second they have another excuse for the square not to get together, boom. Dropped the rivals.

You felt cheated because it was a cheap tactic, and honestly, it was so avoidable if they had just paced things better.

Honestly, I feel like Alya should have found out in s3. Granted, in order to do that they would have had to changed a lot. So this is what I personally (you are welcome to your opinions elsewhere if you disagree or enjoy canon the way it is) feel would have helped fix this pacing problem:

S1 was a bit unavoidable, and it works for what is is: a market tester.

S2 should have focused more extensively on the lore and Marinette's guardian training. We should have been introduced to Mayura earlier. They should have spent more time expanding Master Fu's story and the order's backstory. They could have created tension with the girls/Alya/Marinette's relationships by having her constantly sneaking around to either fight bad guys or train as a guardian which begins to harbor Alya's suspicion. They very well could have moved Master Fu passing his role onto Marinette to the s2 finale if they were more efficient with their time, leading into s3.

S3 could have had Alya finding out. Marinette becomes too overwhelmed with her new duties as guardian and being Ladybug just as she is in s4. S3 could have been her exploring her new role with her bff by her side for support while they begin to build up the Agreste plot more.

S4 then would have been free to expand the Agreste plot without having to crowd in so many other plotlines. Everything would have room to breathe. Marinette would have been busy enough in prior seasons to justify not dating anyone.

What the rivals effectively did was waste time that could have been utilized to develop the plot further in other areas. I get some people like them, but from an objective storytelling perspective, they were filler. When you write a story, like an honest to God professional story, everything has to serve a greater purpose for the plot and move it forward, and if you are experiencing pacing issues or a plot line isn't working, you have to make the executive decision to cut it or change it. I get that time constraints are a thing in TV. Executive meddling happens. Deadlines are tight, which doesn't always leave room for this kind of long game thinking. I also get that this is (I believe) the first time Thomas has been a head writer. Mistakes are bound to happen. It's how you learn and get better. I get that.

This post is more just me speculating what would have made things work better. For me. So backspace over your butthurt comments. Your precious canon is still untouched. I promise. This is just my opinion, shared on my own blog (and not even tagged). Go make your own meta post.

But that being said, I enjoy s4, but it still doesn't quite sit right with me because they are putting too many eggs in their basket now in an attempt to be epic and up the stakes, but in reality, it just leaves the show feeling really unbalanced. To me.

If you like ML the way it is, great. Go enjoy it, scamp. I wouldn't be here if I didn't glean some enjoyment from it too. I just like to think about things sometimes. And that's perfectly okay.

[imoldgreggory]

Today I’m not in the mood for sad, tragic or bitterwseet, I’m in the mood for happy, and hopeful, and whole; so naturally, I’m listening to ‘Wonderful One’. But this time, I notice more not the lyrics we normally discuss - the more obvious ones, about desire and all that, - but rather those that I, in my distraction, never gave the proper attention they deserve.

There’s probably an analysis of this one in the big Jimbert meta already, isn’t there (and I still don’t know *hides in shame*)? Anyway, this is no analysis (especially since I’ll be ignoring half the lyrics, like I said) - just some comments and personal impressions of mine. Because I’m in the mood.

So throw it down, Cleveland rain

So, in case you don’t know, I’m quite useless at knowing the actual canon, and this is no exception. I hope we all agree the song is undoubtedly about Jimbert, but I have no clue why Cleveland might be significant - so much, in fact, that it opens such a song as this. But it sure is intriguing. As we know, Robert tends to write about his own experiences, not to make things up.

The Queen of Love has flown again To seek her daughter

Oh, this whole part is so charming. I haven’t the foggiest idea whom or what he might be singing about(*), even though it’s certainly a metaphor, but the words themselves sound so so beautiful put together - it kind of reminds me of ‘Stairway to Heaven’ in how the words sound magical but try as you might you cannot explain their meaning. And it’s okay. 

(*) Okay, not quite true. In fact, I have at least two possible interpretations (unlike with STH, where I genuinely believe the lyrics were meant to be abstract and that’s the whole point). But I’ll keep them private, I think. But maybe notice the words ‘again’ and ‘to seek’. Especially ‘again’ - for me that’s where it’s at.

Who must lie beside the thief Whose golden tongue she will believe Defies the order 

Okaaaaay. A lot to unpack here - especially considering the metaphor started in the first two lines is still unclear to us. Keeping the Jimbert in mind (always), ‘the thief’ is clearly an echo of ‘who stole the keys to the gates of the castle of love’ (’Calling To You’ from RP’s Fate of Nations, written a year prior). The connection doesn’t help much, because it doesn’t clarify who exactly is the thief - but I’d say it’s one of them either way. (Maybe Robert himself isn’t so sure, thus phrasing it as a question, ‘Who stole the keys...?’ - just a thought).

Then, ‘whose golden tongue she will believe defies the order’ - I don’t think ‘golden tongue’ here means lies so much as beautiful words, maybe promises. Also notice ‘golden’ instead of traditionally used ‘silver’, which, meter-wise, would have worked just as well. ‘Golden’ is very definitely an attribute of Robert’s - as well as being skilled with words is a quality of his. So in this case, ‘the thief’ might be Robert himself (or I can be way off the mark, but, you know, that’s always a possibility, so).

Notice the phrasing ‘she will believe’ - he sounds very sure. Why? Because it’s happened before (see ‘again’ in the stanza above, and many other instances in Robert’s lyrics over the years - repetition is a big thing for him, and them in particular). Also notice in the line, ‘who must lie beside the thief’ - there was never any choice, whoever ‘she’ is, she cannot change what happens or fight it. It’s about fate. It’s also about sex, and love, and possibly equality, or at the very least togetherness (towards the end of the song he changes the words and already sings she ‘must lie beneath the thief’ which is interesting).

 ‘...she will believe defies the order’: what order? Most likely, the cycle of comings and goings, of being together and then inevitably parting again - that is the natural order of things in the Jimbert canon (referred to in a number of songs), and that is the crux of the conflict also. She will believe, once again, that they’ll stay together this time, and then she’ll get her heart broken, once again - and at least one of them knows this from the very start (this is 1994). But even the singer, who knows it’s not to last, still hopes against all hope that maybe it might (see next stanza).

Oh, that is why Oh, that is why Shall we dance and never stop Take my hand and stop the clock From turning over

‘Shall we dance and never stop’ - ‘dancing’ has been commented on lots of times in all the analyses so I’m not repeating it here. But again, this is a question, wistful rather than hopeful, reflecting the singer’s heart’s true desire in that moment. If you think about it, he’s not actually offering a forever to the addressee, he’s really already lamenting the impossibility of this forever.

 Then, ‘Take my hand and stop the clock from turning over’ - a continuation of the thought from the previous stanza: the singer knows he can’t go against his own nature (which compels him to be constantly moving and ‘turning turning’), and this is a desperate plea for his lover to do something to break the cycle and freeze the time in this perfect moment (which the lover would gladly fucking do, as we know, were it actually possible).

And spirit weave, spirit bend In the move that has no end That we must follow Oh, oh

Well, this is about the symbol of eternity, I think it’s quite obvious - the endless cycle they cannot escape, and all that. (Compare with, ’These are the seasons of emotion / And like the wind they rise and fall’ from the Rain Song)

Show me your eyes Oh light of the sun

’Speak to me only with your eyes’ (duh). Also, in the Rain Song, if we are so inclined, we may find another line that echoes the way he addresses his lover: ‘You are the sunlight in my growing’. I know there are other takes on the Rain Song in the Jimbert analyses, but I personally always read these lines as addressed to Jimmy, especially the speaking ‘only with your eyes’ (I mean if we read the Rain Song as Jimbert at all, that is. Which on this blog, we do.).

Touch me with fire My mind is undone All life inspire My freedom has come I drift through desire My wonderful one

I don’t quite get the ‘all life inspire’ bit grammatically, to be honest. Any native speakers who can rephrase it so it’s clearer and less poetic? But as for the next line, I think it’s quite significant that RP regarded the Page/Plant period as a time he could finally feel free (/freer). Even though, paradoxically, in the very next stanza he says ‘you can never let it show’. Still, something had changed in his attitude, in the way he felt about the whole thing, perhaps. Compare with ALS, where he longed for ‘the sweet refrain’ and a freedom ‘to ride the wind / to tread the air above the din’. Maybe this time it was different because ‘the shackles of commitment’ had indeed fallen (I don’t believe he was dating/living with anyone at the time?) Maybe it’s about them doing the touring on their own terms this time, but considering the context I believe it is about matters of the heart. I don’t really know, but the main thing is that he apparently felt this way - free at last.

When you do what you do I can never, never, never let you go And when you feel the way you feel You can never, no, never let it show ... ... That is why, that is why That is why, that is why

Well, this is it for today. If you’ve reached this paragraph, thanks for staying (and bearing XD) with me. I don’t know who needed to hear all this, but I sure needed to get it out. Turns out the song is not so idyllic and blissful as it might seem at a glance, is it? Still, how beautiful.

[skylarmoon71]

Reverse Flash x Reader- Oneshot (Flash)

Dealing with this yellow suit wearing maniac was not how you thought you’d spend the night. As an ex citizen from Central city, you knew just about every villain that came out of the tragedy of the explosion. Every day a new one seems to arise, and since you liked having all your body parts as they were, you stayed caught up with the news.

That’s why you’d left the place for some much needed peace. 

Rockstone was quiet, and still pretty populated. It wasn’t that far away from Central City either, so you could still visit your family every now and then.

“You seem awfully calm for someone being threatened."

The dark haired male raised his vibrating hand, hoping to urge at least some kind of reaction. After being brought back and wiped from existence so many times, this time around he’d just been looking to have a little fun. Chasing Barry around was starting to get redundant. And then he supposed the hero had his own problems to deal with right about now.

He planned to stay as low key as possible until he could figure out what his next move was. So kidnapping an unsuspecting victim and forcing them to provide him shelter seemed like the best way to go.

“Not gonna lie, scared the shit outta me when you appeared out of that little portal. Really thought I dodged a bullet leaving CC. Just my luck.” you grumble. Sipping at your coffee, you adjusted your bag strap. “Sorry old man, got a job to get to so if you’ll excuse me.” you walk around him. It was already dark, and since you had a night shift at the university today, you really weren’t in the mood for this.

Your hair is taken with the whip of the wind, and it feels like a blink. Drink discarded on the ground, you stare in shock. He has you pinned to the wall, snare on his face, blue eyes emitting so much raw agitation. “I’d advise against mocking me.”

He’s started to vibrate, the red light overtaking his eyes.

“It’s not wise to test me.”

The echoing of his voice would bring any person to their knees in fear. The look in your eyes shifts from shock to annoyance. Your free hand is hanging at the side of your waist. You raise your palm, and he looks down just as a blue light shoots out. He’s gone once again, obviously not anticipating this. No longer forced up on the wall, you shrug your shoulders, straightening your shirt that was ruffled.

Eobard is now standing at a distance, intrigued. He halts his speed for a second to observe you. He’s positive he has no recollection of you. Being the evil genius that he is, he’s pretty much recorded all the villain metas in Central City. All those years travelling through time also played a big part in it. So why does he have no profile on you?

“Who are you?” He narrows his eyes, and all you provide is a smirk.

“I think you mean what.” You open both your palms, and your eyes are now emitting the same glow as your hands.

“Great.”

What in the world did he get himself into. He really had a knack for picking bad situations.

~Three Months Later~

“I could have just. “ He makes a hand motion, and you don't need to even guess what he means. This guy. You'd just been telling him about your experience yesterday with one of your peers.

“Now now, don’t make me put you to sleep again Bardy-poo. “ You could tell from his facial expression that the name was anything but desired.

“How long do you intend to keep me hostage?” you scoffed at his statement.

“Hostage, I’d like to think of it as a gracious service to society. “

Eobard was still glaring in your direction.

Running into you that night was such terrible luck on his part. He really thought he’d be lucky this time around, but he was dead wrong. You were unlike anything or one he’d ever met. Certainly not a meta. Since you weren’t exactly forthcoming about your origin, there wasn’t much to go on. What he did know is that every time he attempted to do something even remotely evil, you knew about it.

His powers also had very little effect on you. Trying on many occasions to drill a hand through your chest with no luck. You had him mentally and physically subdued. What’s even worse is he was trying to avoid time travelling, cause that would catch Barry’s attention, and the prospect of the male finding him was even less appealing. With nowhere to go, and you keeping him on a tight watch, his only option was to stick around.

It wasn’t like he was completely stranded. He had means to get by for moments like this. With his abilities he could take whatever he wanted without so much as a flinch. You apparently didn’t care much for his little adventures as long as no one got dead. For all intents and purposes, he was a free man, minus the unnamed being keeping him on a leash.

“I can feel you plotting from all the way over here. Something you’d like to share with the class?”

“Will you remove the bind?” He asked. You click your tongue.

“You know I can’t do that. Evil villain and all. I wouldn't sleep very well if I knew you were out there impaling civilians. “

His eyes were still marking you, and you shifted, brows knitting.

“Well...I’m gonna go because that look is a bit off putting.”

Moving to pick up your cup of coffee and head for the door, you’re once again trapped between the speedster and the wall. You’re about to give him another snarky retort, but you become a little distracted by how deliciously rosy his lips are.

You divert your eyes quickly before your mind can stray any further. He doesn’t speak for a moment, and for a second you almost think he’s trapped in the same haze you are. He’d obviously prepared something diabolical to say, but like some of your most recent interactions, his usual malicious intent is missing.

“So, you're gonna say something or are you trying to relive some Korean drama scene."

He blinks, then takes notice of the position. You’re a bit confused at the lost look on his face. If you didn’t know any better you would have said he didn’t intend to do that. Taking a step back, the coldness returns to his eyes, and just like that he takes off. You release a breath.

“It’s getting harder.”

This little ploy was becoming difficult to keep up. If he ever figured it out you’re not sure what his reaction will be. Your reason for doing this has greatly changed from the beginning.

~~~~~~

The little mental battle has been going on all day.

You could barely focus on anything even when you were teaching your criminology class. That night walking to your door, you felt heavy. Not just from the secret you were keeping from Eobard, but also the feelings you’d lectured yourself not to grow.

The dark haired male is not a good man. You keep telling yourself that. But you’d hope that these months being around you would change that. He hadn’t hurt anyone since his arrival. You honestly thought that you could change him for the better. Opening the door, you step in. The area is silent, and it sort of makes you a tad bit suspicious.

“Eo-”

“Good evening.” You jump, glaring in his direction as you push the door close. He’s sitting on the couch casually like he didn’t just scare the shit out of you.

“Geez don’t do that!!”

He’s once again strutting that stupid smirk.

“It’s uncomfortable isn’t it, when things happen that we have no control over. Surprises.” you squint.

“Why do I feel like that has some alternate meaning."

He’s dressed in dark clothing, glasses perched on his nose. Everything about his body language tells you something is up. With his attention now fixed on you, the bag in your hand is placed on the counter. You’re preparing for anything. As you’ve realized Eobard is very unpredictable.

“I’m done playing your game, release me at once. “

Trying not to pay much mind to his request, you walk past him.

“Come on, we've been at this for months. I can’t let you go on a rampage. Innocent lives and all. If you really wanna blame someone then blame yourself. What are the odds that out of all of the people here you decided to grab me right?” you laugh, but you don’t receive any in return.

“You’re under the impression that this is a game.”

Eobard knows there’s no harm he can inflict on your body, doesn’t mean his actions don’t make you nervous. He approaches slowly, but with purpose. With your back now to the fridge, you try to move to an area where you won’t feel as trapped. Eobard in no way allows this. His hands press into the cool surface of the fridge.

“Y-You know this fetish you seem to have with pushing me against stuff is getting kind of old.” Who were you kidding, shit was driving you mad.

“You can’t keep me here.”

There was no humor in his voice. Just flat out hostility. Yet he wasn’t emitting the anger you knew he had inside. Just because he couldn’t kill you didn’t mean he couldn’t hurt you. You’re positive he’s realized that by now. The prospect of him leaving, somehow it caused an ache in your heart. Eyes connected, it was impossible for you not to look so vulnerable.

“I-If you really want to leave then just go.” you willed your body not to shake, but it was becoming difficult to even keep your tears at bay. “Are you toying with me?” He clenched his fist.

You shook your head, lowering your eyes. Why did you have to feel guilty for keeping the truth from him. The guy wasn’t exactly an upstanding citizen. “I’m not. You can leave Eobard. “

His eyes grew a little wide at the information. 

“I’m not a witch, or a metahuman. I’m just a mutant.” you state. 

“It’s how I’m able to produce barriers like the one I placed on you. It can only be sustained for a maximum of three weeks. It’s taken me years to get to that point of control. You just assumed I always had the barrier up after a month, and I never corrected you because I was trying to keep people safe.”

That wasn’t your only reason.

This entire time he’d been trying to solve your mystery when the answer was right in front of him. It still made no sense. Why didn’t he leave?

“The only reason you’re still here is because you want to be.” Eobard took a step back.

“That can’t be right, why would I want to be stuck in this wretched town.”

All you offer is a smile. At the back of your mind you hope it’s because he’s grown closer to you than he wants to admit.

“I’ve been wondering the same for weeks now. “

You aren’t sure what else can be said. Thankfully you haven’t started breaking down. You sort of want him to leave so you can have the privacy to do so. You take a breath, forcing a confident smile on your face. “Well the cat’s out of the bag so I guess this is goodbye. Just because I can’t hold you doesn’t mean I won’t know when you’re causing mayhem. Better not fall back to your old ways.”

You refuse to look him in the eye, so you have no idea what kind of expression he’s wearing.

Eobard steps forward and grabs your arm.

“Wha-” your swept right off your feet, and you grunt when your back suddenly comes in contact with the softness of your mattress. Eobard is hovering over your body, and you realize he’s just taken you into the bedroom without so much as an explanation. Not just that, but the hunger behind those dark rimmed glasses is enough to turn you into putty.

“W-What are you doing!!”

“Testing a theory.”

“The fu-” His lips collide with yours and your eyebrows shoot up. If you had expected something, it wasn’t this. His entire body is now pressed into you. You’ve held your breath, whimpering.

This is bad, wrong even. His hands are pressed into the mattress, as he shows no signs of moving, or slowing down. His lips are moving eagerly against yours, and at some point your body has started to respond. You reach up, grabbing a fistful of his black shirt, forcing him closer. Your kisses are desperate now, and raw. One of his hands lands on your thigh, trailing up your leg. Because you’re wearing a dress, you can feel his palm against your skin. You moan, and he takes full advantage, slipping his tongue in.

“So good..”

He tastes amazing. His kisses are even more incredible. If you never came up for air that would be too soon. Eobard parts for the breath you are both in need of. Sapphire orbs have changed to navy, and it elects another needy moan from you. His hand is still on your thigh, caressing the skin teasingly. He’s so close to where you need him the most. Eobard takes pleasure in your soft cries. Now it all makes sense. The reason behind your need to keep him there, his apparent unconscious reluctance to leave you.

“Delicious.”

He licks his lips, pulling off his glasses and tossing them overhead.

“I hope you understand what you’ve gotten yourself into. “ You gulp.

Did you?

His lips hover over yours and the logical part of your brain has vanished. You lean up to connect, but he’s keeping you at a distance with that stupidly sexy smirk on his face."

”It appears I’m the one who has you bind now. “

What an unusual turn of events.

Not that you’re complaining.

[backtothestart02]

February 2022 - 4/? | westallen fanfiction

A/N: Canon divergent from here on out b/c otherwise these events will be sans Iris due to her disappearing. Hope you enjoy anyway!

...

Chapter 4 - Barry's Haircut

Barry woke up on Friday of that week and looked over at the empty side of his bed. He groaned. Iris had left for Coast City on Tuesday for a story, which had ended up being good, since criminal metas had increased out of nowhere, but he missed her like hell and was eager for her to come back.

He had spent every evening with her for dinner the past few nights, but he felt it was best if he stayed in the city overnight, should metas attack during the nighttime hours, which had happened a few times already, including the previous night. He didn’t know what was in the water, but it sucked.

He wanted to be with his wife. He wanted to hold her during the night, go to bed seeing her next to him and wake up with her either in his line of vision or hearing her move around in the bathroom or downstairs. He didn’t like this business of her being across the country during the hours when they’d normally see each other.

But, she had said she’d be back today before dinner, so he was definitely looking forward to that. On his lunch break, he was getting his hair cut before their date night in a couple days, so he was looking forward to that too. Jeff always did such a good job on his hair. He’d had the guy for years, and he was a pro. The results always had Iris touching his hair, and that gave him tingles all over.

He wished she could be home right after he got it done, but he supposed before dinner would work too.

Grudgingly, he got ready for work, and was deliberately late because of his sour mood. Kramer knowing he was the Flash paid off because she probably thought he was away on Flash business.

By the time lunch came around, he was more frustrated than ever. And when he asked for Jeff after walking into the barber shop, a permanent frown fixed on his face when they said he’d called in sick for the day.

“But Judy is here!” the other hairstylist said, smiling brilliantly. “She’s new, but she does an excellent job!”

Barry tried his best to hold back a scowl and failed miserably.

“Or I could reschedule you for sometime next week?” she offered.

Barry sighed and hung his head.

“No, I’m sure she’s fine,” he muttered. “Date night with the wife is in a couple days. I can’t wait till next week.”

“Date night with the wife, huh?” A pretty girl walked up to the counter. “Let’s get you looking sharp then, Barry, is it?” Her eyes sparkled, and she was clearly checking him out, despite the comment about his wife.

Barry pursed his lips and nodded. He hung up his coat on one of the hooks, patted his pocket for his wallet, and followed her to one of the chairs.

“So, what are you thinking, handsome?” she asked, drawing her fingers down his neck as she put the large black smock around him.

“Just a trim,” he said, forcing a smile. “Maybe shorter on the sides.”

“Will do.” She leaned down to whisper into his ear. “I am very good at what I do.”

He cleared his throat.

“I’m sure my wife will appreciate it then.”

She stood back up and grabbed her spray bottle of water to start dampening his hair and combing through it.

“Well, it’s your hair, honey. You should love it too.”

“If it’s what Jeff usually does, I will.”

That seemed to shut her up – momentarily.

“So, what’s the wife’s name?” she asked, halfway through his cut.

“Iris,” he said. “Iris West-Allen.”

“Wait. The Iris West-Allen? As in CEO of CCC Media?” she blanched.

Barry’s lips parted.

“One and the same.”

“Oh, my gosh, I love her writing. I read her stories all the time. She’s such an inspiration.”

He grinned from ear to ear, his sour mood dissipating.

“I’ll be sure to tell her you said so. She’s coming home today.”

“Where did she go to?” she asked, this time no attempt at flirting in her voice. “Somewhere exciting for a story, I hope.”

“Coast City, and yes, exactly for that.” He paused. “I miss her.”

“I bet you do, honey. Who wouldn’t? She’s an icon.”

His smile was misty, and her hand stilled. He looked in the mirror, and she grabbed a handheld mirror before spinning him around and handing it to him.

“What do you think?”

He gave himself a good look, and his smile spread further.

“I think you’re worthy of a tip, Judy.”

A sparkling smile appeared on her face.

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

…

Barry got several compliments on his hair after walking into CCPD following his haircut, which heightened his mood further. Nothing could have prepared him though for Iris West-Allen sitting, one knee crossed over the other, on the corner of his desk when he walked into his lab.

“Iris!” He grinned, dropping his Big Belly Burger take-out bag he’d grabbed on the way back immediately and racing into her arms.

“Hey, Baby!” She laughed, wrapping her arms around him and immediately inhaling the scent of his hair and winding her fingers through his hair, messing up the style. He didn’t care. “Someone got a haircut. Did Jeff do a good job, or what?” she teased.

He pulled back to stare into her eyes and then kiss her.

“Not Jeff, some new chick. Julie, I think her name was. Or Judy. I can’t remember.” He kissed her again.

“A female, huh?” she asked, skeptical.

“Don’t be jealous,” he said.

“I’m no-”

“She’s a fan of yours, you know.”

“Oh, yeah?” Her mood immediately switched.

“Mhmm.” He nodded. “Couldn’t stop gushing about how great your work is and how she reads everything you write. I tipped her because of it.”

“Not because of how she did your hair?” She blanched.

He shrugged.

“It’s nice, but Jeff does it better.”

She chuckled and pulled him in for another kiss. He decided not to mention all the flirting Judy had been aiming at him before he mentioned Iris’ full name. Better for the marriage, especially since Judy had changed her tune by the end of her services.

“How was your trip?” he asked when they parted. “I’ve missed you.”

She raised her eyebrows, amused.

“You’ve seen me every day this week for dinner.”

He tugged her closer to him somehow.

“But not in bed I haven’t. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you in our bed,” he murmured into her ear. “Too long.”

Iris bit her bottom lip as her eyes rolled back, clearly aroused, especially when he tugged on her earlobe with his teeth.

“My trip was good,” she said breathily.

The sound of footsteps echoed down the hall, and they reluctantly pulled apart. Kramer’s voice could be heard before she appeared in the doorway.

“I’ll tell you about it later,” she said, sending him a wink on her way out, and nearly running into his boss as she did.

“Oh, Iris, you’re back! Good to see you. I’m sure…” Kramer shot a glance at Barry. “Am I interrupting…something?”

“Nothing at all,” Iris assured, then looked at Barry. “I’ll see you after work.”

“Miss you already,” he said back, and Iris waved and smiled before leaving.

“I definitely interrupted something,” Kramer said on a chuckle before approaching Barry about some new case files she needed him to look over.

Barry tried his best to focus on what she was saying, but the memory of Iris all over him after days without such affection was still very present in his mind.

He couldn’t wait to get home, and he knew Iris couldn’t wait till he did either.

Maybe distance did make the heart grow fonder.

[shijas]

touched-starved megumi slowly being acclimatised to touch really lives rent free in my head.

like, his childhood was pretty all over the place, and he clearly spent middle school getting into fights and straight up brooding, so it’s make sense for touch in megumi’s mind to be associated with strength and violence and pain and vulnerability, the latter two things would especially be hard for megumi to live with i think???? i don’t really know how to explain??? but like we see that uncontrolled vulinerabilty, and leaving yourself vulnerable is like putting yourself on a wanted list for shamans. and so touch, in megumi’s eyes, should only occur with a few specific purposes and those purposes usually weren’t the most pleasant experiences in his mind. i assume people only touched him for: training/sparring, which is literally allocated time when someone can just straight up, inflict harm; someone deciding to fight him out of jealousy or revenge or fear or some sort of negative emotion; and in the worst case scenario people are touching him to heal him because in some capacity he’s weak, he was not strong enough to do whatever he needed to do without injury. i think healing touches, when the touch has to be gentle because fundamentally megumi is already vulunerable and already hurting would sting the most, like emotionally and physically because sometimes touch, even gentle touch, do he hurting tho... (this got long, but for how nobara/yuji break this pattern keep reading!)

and then nobara and yuji arrive and it’s like a hurricane of positive touching. yuji is affectionate!! physical touch is definitely a part of his love languages and so yuji just enjoys giving hugs!! yuji likes high fives!! and fist bumps!! and holding hangs while swinging them in the space between eachother while walking, even though it’s kind of childish. and megumi doesn’t know how to say no to these things, to the boundless enthusiasm that is yuji!! and he also feels a little guilty because he kinda dragged yuji into this world, away from his friends and the familiar comfort/touch he was used too. so megumi doesn’t like, consciously, try to stop any of the touch despite his general aversion. instead he indulges yuji to the best of his ability, because he comes to find that it’s not always bad and he doesn’t really mind; it takes a while to fully like not have a defensive, fight or flight response to the touches and he defo judo flips and sucker punches yuji over and over, because yuji is 1000000% a sneak affection attacker. the closest touch has ever been to ‘nice’ for megumi is probably healing for his stupid amount of serious wounds, and as both an apology and his first steps in reciprocation, megumi applies the gentleness of healing touches he remembers to the injuries he (accidentally??) gives yuji, because all he really about touch that isn’t supposed to hurt is how to rub softly against a spot that will probably bruise, and how to wrap or plaster a cut from a judo flip that led to some scrapes, he’s very good at icing bumps and twists and strains; and so they put themselves back together like that, and yuji keeps up his ‘surprise back hug events’ like they don’t straight up lead to a bruised sternum.

nobara breaks down the ‘touch is violence, touch is pain and pain is bad’-thing even faster than yuji, because she’s lived by her philolosphy as an affectionate puncher, a sweet kicker; she’s defo the type to bite your fingers and pinch your arm, but it’s well and truly out of all the love she cannot contain in her heart (which frustrates her a little bit so she will give you a sharp jab in retribution for feelings). what helps uncross the wires of megumi’s learnt behaviour (or maybe cross them idk) that ‘touch and violence and therefore bad’, is that her teasing and, honestly barely painful, ribbing is always interspersed by the softest of touches that aren’t tinged by the smell of antiseptic, blood or pity. this type of touch gets more frequent the more comfortable they get with eachother (think learning to lean on eachother post yuji death), like nobara will say ‘ew’ while forcing megumi to lay his head in her lap when they’re tryna catch their breath during training, and if his towel is nearby she’ll pat the sweat off his forehead and then complain about said sweat just because she knows he likes listening to her complain about mundane stuff; and she’ll make a million and one spiky sea urchins puns (did you know the japanese word for urchin is uni and linguistically meguni is a hilarious pun that i can see happening in canon) but is the first to rake her fingers through the mess of megumi’s hair, if she noticed he’s tried and hasn’t been taking care of himself. like yeah she throws her pens at him when he tries to help her with their maths homework, but her aim is so scary good it’s funny, and he can always throw them back and she won’t really get any more angry, and so they throw pens at eachother and laugh about it and nobara sketches random patters on to megumi’s skin with the pen she almost used to impale his eye.

anyway the point i’m getting at (probably incomprehensible into this mess of hc and meta) is: yuji and nobara come along, and suddenly, touch isn’t something that burns a little, isn’t something that spooks, isn’t something that requires the tightening of megumi’s jaw and his ribs and his spirit, and of course, sometimes it gets a little overwhelming (WHICH IS OKAY!! TOUCH AS STIMULATION IS OVERHWELMING SOMETIMES AND THATS OKAY AND VALID, EVEN IF YOURE AN AFFECTIONATE OR TOUCHY PERSON!!) and megumi needs to like take a couple of steps back. and they talk about it, because communication is key, and boundaries are healthy things to put in place, and by god the first years will try and build as safe and healthy a relationship between the three of them as they possibly can! and yeah they talk about it, and some days touch is too much for of them and that’s okay, affection, fondness, compassion can be shown in other ways, through other actions and they’ll utilise those a bit more as easily as they utilise touch a bit less, and slowly but surely, megumi becomes a lot less touch-starved and starts to seek it out on his own and initiate it in ways that are comfortable to him, like learning to braid hair so he can play with nobara’s or grabbing yuji’s hand first while their walking or just pressing his thigh into whoever he’s sitting next to in class and that’s fine and that’s good!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and i’m very much attached to this idea.

bonus gojo (as per usual): when megumi became his ward, for obvious, bitter, reasons he wasn’t really tryna like touch. this kid. riling megumi up was easy enough with just words and i feel like firstly, teasing is a part of gojo’s love language in a mirror of how it’s a part of nobara’s (mmmmmmm gojo and nobara parallels are another brain worm that EATS me) and secondly, gojo goes through his own thing with touch, and like affection. as someone whose essentially raised on an absolutely, ridiculous, pedestal and then successfully surpasses even the heights of that pedestal to basically become a living legend AND the whole physical, literal thing with infinity or limitless (or whatever his cursed technique is i’m sorry i didn’t pay attention to the cursed energy explanation any of the times it came up) ANYWAY, so gojo and megumi probably both touch-starved idiots. but, like gojo does care for megumi, like as his student and as this kid he watched grow up, like ofc he does because he’s not a completely useless person. and so he definitely encourages nobara and yuji’s plan to positively reinforce touch in megumi’s brain and slowly, for fear of being straight up bitten, endeavours to extend the casual affection he easily applies to the other two, to megumi too. idrk the logistics of it, but i think it’d be cute for one day gojo putting his hand out to ruffle megumi’s hair, but like not imposing his hand, like it’s just out and about really, and usually megumi nopes or hisses or whatever other gremlin mood he’s decided to incorporate to the finite number of facial expressions he’s willing to make, but today he’s feeling charitable and lets gojo ruffle his hair, kinda like a cat ya know, like leans into it a bit in a very clear you have permission to pet!!!! and gojo’s just jojo sobbing through his blindfold like “oh my god my son loves me” and megumi is regretting not biting him.

[sleepyowlwrites]

find the word tag CCXII

you know Sleepy’s tired if she isn’t posting word searches all the time. even when I’m not writing - which I am not - I still post them because I have a backlog. I have no shame about posting old, non-canonical, not-even-really draft 0 stuff. I do not fear the word count or the lack of a recent last line or whatever. but if I am tired, then I really won’t do anything. and I love omni, but it sure does take the stuffing out of me. today’s tags have been snatched from unsuspecting rabbits by my sneaky, sneaky hands. the rabbits? @ambiguouspuzuma and @red-the-dragon-writes 

prove (don’t run with scissors, 2011)

Plus, you might do something stupid Just to prove something to your sister That you are superhuman And run with scissors

Which now I know Is never a good idea

patch (discord poetry no.8, 2020)

for a moment you imagine yourself falling down into the dark. but you don’t. the glass is still there, you’re just looking down. but then you look up again and see the garden and birds and jackets with lots of patches and you’re wondering about the stories hiding in its pockets. and you’re safe. as long as you don’t look down.

purple (meta-portal)

speaking of stabbing, Changmin was stabbed by a mystical dagger when he was a child in the crook of his elbow. he's got a purple mark there as a scar and it doesn't bother him or anything, but he is susceptible to illusionary magic which is how Chanhee lured him into the labyrinth in the first place and then kept him there.

pale (the princess, 2013)

"What's the matter with you, princess?" My pale professor said. "Have you been poisoned, stabbed or tortured, Have you lost your head?

"Then use it, girl, before you're dead. Get that mind to thinking. You need to use the time you have, Every day you're sinking!”

shadow (youth story draft 0)

R narrowed his eyes and poked at Mark’s other shoulder blade. “You. Have you not drunk before?”

Mark shrugged. Then, “Only a couple times. And like, a sip each time?”

“I don’t think that counts,” Irina said. She was on her back now, letting Nyks play with her hair. Irina was very beautiful when she was half in shadow. Made her easier to look at.

cloud (youth story draft 0)

“Not all bruises form right away, idiot.” Mark pulled his hood up, further obscuring his already cloudy features. “Let’s just go at it until Evie stops us. Why do we need rules?”

“Because the two of you are impossible and need boundaries.”

“We clearly suck at those,” R pointed out. “We’ll just brawl for a bit and then go back to being on somewhat amicable terms.”

echo (shiver, 2012)

Silence Is ever A very loud word An echo of longing Dropping, falling, reaching into the chasm of desire Pouring a rivulet of tears To match the even breathing of your chest Further, farther

Echoes Darkness Silver pebble shivering among the stars

wind (you, of flight, and I, of falsehood, 2021)

Today I thought I saw a bird, but it was just my cheekbone, adrift on the wind; broken off by a bite of indecision, it glowered at the sun, the wax on its wingtips melting less with the coming dark.

well. hmm. mood, atmosphere, temperature, vibe, presence. BONUS: shiver, shake. @woodhousejay @vellichor-virgo @sleepy-night-child @lunarmoment @klywrites @ashen-crest OR ANYBODY or nobody